The entire imperial palace was now under Xie Zheng’s control. The official announcement regarding the night of the palace coup stated that Grand Tutor Li and Wei Yan had plotted a rebellion, causing the Emperor to fall gravely ill from shock. All involved parties had been imprisoned, but the specific charges would be determined after the Emperor “recovered.”
The court officials were well aware that after the scandalous events at the palace banquet, the Emperor’s “illness” was unlikely to improve. It seemed the Dragon Throne was about to change hands.
Qi Min was severely injured and had been temporarily placed in a detached palace by Gong Sun Yin, with heavy guards both inside and out.
To seize the firearms from the Divine Machine Camp, Qi Min had sent many elite shadow guards to the Western Garden. After a fierce battle with Fan Changyu’s Extreme Left Wing Camp, those shadow guards were all lost. The remaining few who had stayed to protect Qi Min during the cannon fire and arrow barrage were now under arrest.
When Fan Changyu entered the detached palace, she saw a pale man lying half-dead on the bed, coughing.
Fan Changyu had never seen Qi Min before. She noticed that he bore some resemblance to the young Emperor, probably due to their uncle-nephew relationship. Both had a layer of deep melancholy in their eyes.
He noticed her presence and, after finishing his cough, leaned against the soft pillows. His voice was weak but still carried a mocking tone: “Cloud Banner General? What a rare guest.”
He acted as if he weren’t a prisoner, but still the descendant of Crown Prince Chengde about to ascend to a high position.
Fan Changyu didn’t engage in his pretense and got straight to the point: “The Jinzhou bloodbath seventeen years ago, what exactly did Wei Yan and the Sui family do?”
Why hadn’t the Sui family sent troops to aid Jinzhou, and why hadn’t Wei Yan exposed the Sui family’s delay in military action all these years, even when they rebelled?
Qi Min lowered his eyes and smiled faintly: “Naturally… they did things worse than beasts.”
Fan Changyu shouted coldly: “Speak!”
His smile deepened as he negotiated with Fan Changyu: “With the Blood Robe Cavalry’s acumen, you must have found my concubine’s whereabouts. If you want to know about Wei Yan and the Sui family’s dealings, fine, let me see her once.”
Fan Changyu immediately replied: “Dream on!”
Her gaze was clear and cold, like a frost-covered blade.
Fan Changyu still vividly remembered how this man had tried to kill Yu Bao’er, a mere child, to prevent her from falling into their hands.
Yu Qianqian had barely escaped his clutches; she wouldn’t let Yu Qianqian see this scoundrel again.
Qi Min lowered his eyes: “Then… I have nothing to say.”
Fan Changyu suddenly drew her sword and pressed it against his throat, her expression icy: “I’m not here to negotiate with you.”
Her time in the military camp and at court had taught her how to threaten someone with a fierce demeanor.
But Qi Min just smiled faintly: “Since I’ve fallen into your hands, death is my only fate anyway. If Cloud Banner General only wants my life, you might as well do it now.”
He began using royal pronouns, and despite his disheveled state, an air of arrogance emanated from his very bones, as if telling Fan Changyu that there was nothing left to discuss.
Fan Changyu held her sword against him for a moment, the blade cutting through the thin skin of his neck, drawing blood. Yet he showed no fear.
Fan Changyu frowned deeply and finally withdrew her sword. She pressed her lips tightly together and left the detached palace without another word.
As soon as she stepped out of the palace gates, she saw someone ascending the white marble steps outside. His gold-embroidered brocade cloak was covered in snowflakes, his face as cold as jade, his eyes like drops of ink.
Fan Changyu was slightly startled. “Why are you here?”
Seeing her, the coldness in Xie Zheng’s eyes softened a bit. Noticing she was wearing only thin armor, he immediately pulled off the cloak from his shoulders and draped it over her. “I came to the palace to investigate some matters. Hearing you were at the detached palace, I came to check on you.”
The cloak still carried his body heat and his icy, snow-like scent. Fan Changyu was shorter than him, and she was almost entirely enveloped in it, with only her beautiful face and high-tied long hair exposed. She looked like a small boy who had stolen his elder brother’s clothes, her features clear and bright, yet not lacking in heroic spirit.
She raised her hand to adjust the cloak and walked down the steps alongside Xie Zheng. She told him about the Sui family’s forgery of the tiger tally and their deliberate failure to send troops. “I thought the Imperial Grandson might know something, so I came to question him. He said he would only speak if he could see Qianqian.”
Upon hearing about the Sui family’s forgery of the tiger tally, frost immediately colored Xie Zheng’s eyes again: “The palace maid from the Cold Palace died three days ago.”
Unable to get answers from Wei Yan, he began investigating the matter of him and Consort Shu after leaving the dungeon.
Fan Changyu wasn’t surprised: “Was it the Emperor’s doing?”
Calculating the time, the palace maid had died right after New Year’s Eve.
But Xie Zheng shook his head: “I interrogated the eunuch close to Qi Sheng. After the Cold Palace plot failed, Qi Sheng went to Wei Yan in the middle of the night seeking protection. That palace maid was his leverage to threaten Wei Yan for protection. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to destroy his lifeline.”
Fan Changyu looked at him: “Was it Wei Yan?”
Xie Zheng didn’t respond, clearly confirming it.
Fan Changyu couldn’t understand: “Wei Yan killed that palace maid before Grand Tutor Li’s coup. Was he afraid of his scandal being known to Grand Tutor Li? Or did he not want any evidence falling into others’ hands?”
Xie Zheng gazed at the snow covering the distant palace walls and simply said: “He has always been ruthless. Having forced the Li family into a corner where they could only attempt a coup, upon learning of another hidden threat in the palace, he certainly wouldn’t leave it be.”
Fan Changyu recalled Grand Tutor Li mentioning that Wei Yan’s sister and Consort Shu were close friends before marriage and that Wei Yan had served under Old General Qi. This meant Wei Yan and Consort Shu must have known each other before their respective marriages. Coupled with the fact that Wei Yan had only taken a wife in name, the relationship between Wei Yan and Consort Shu seemed increasingly complex.
She hesitated: “Then the affair between Wei Yan and Consort Shu must be true?”
If it were false, why would Wei Yan silence the palace maid after controlling the young Emperor?
Xie Zheng remained silent, walking steadily through the heavy snow. Without his cloak to shield him from the wind and snow, his cold, hard figure suddenly seemed somewhat thin, reminiscent of the orphaned child he once was. After a while, he spoke in an indifferent tone: “Perhaps, as Qi Min said, he did disrupt the imperial harem and plot for the throne, which led to the loss of Jinzhou.”
Fan Changyu glanced at him and suddenly stopped in her tracks.
“What’s wrong?”
Xie Zheng turned to look at her, snow covering his shoulders, his black gold-embroidered dragon robe making his face appear as white as frost and snow.
Fan Changyu suddenly raised her arms and hugged him tightly, her voice muffled but firm: “I’ll walk the path ahead with you.”
He had hidden his emotions well, but at that moment, Fan Changyu still sensed something was off.
Indeed, no matter how evil Wei Yan might be, he was still the uncle Xie Zheng had called for over twenty years, his only living relative in this world.
Yet this only relative was also the murderer of his parents.
How could he not be upset? He just… didn’t know how to be upset anymore, perhaps?
Xie Zheng lowered his gaze, silently looking at the black hair of the girl in his arms. The force with which she had crashed into his embrace wasn’t great, but it made his heart tremble. A tingling sensation and a faint pain, wrapped in that tremor, spread to his fingertips.
He remained stiff for a while before raising his hand to press against her back through the cloak, fully embracing her. His half-lowered long lashes were dotted with fine snow, and he spoke stubbornly and earnestly: “Of course, you can’t escape.”
Snow fell like cotton, and the two continued walking side by side.
After failing to learn about Consort Shu from the palace maid, Fan Changyu visited Consort An on Xie Zheng’s behalf.
When Xie Zheng initially had Gong Sun Yin use the Princess Royal to investigate the Sixteenth Prince’s affairs, his real intention was to approach Consort An.
Although the palace staff had changed many times over, Consort An was a consort who had remained uninvolved in palace affairs since seventeen years ago. She must know more about the events of that time than ordinary palace servants.
Perhaps because the current situation had become clear, Consort An didn’t evade the topic at all when Fan Changyu visited and explained her purpose.
“This grieving one and Consort Shu were acquainted since our maiden days. Even now, this grieving one still prefers to call her Rong Yin.”
The hall doors were closed, and the light in the small Buddhist shrine was dim.
Consort An, dressed in Buddhist robes, lit incense and then used her well-maintained delicate hands to replace the gold-inlaid openwork carved cover of the incense burner. Wisps of blue smoke seeped through the gaps, slowly rising to the ceiling of the shrine.
She paused, her expression momentarily wistful: “She also liked it when this grieving one called her by her maiden name.”
Fan Changyu sat upright on the other side of the low table, silently noting Consort Shu’s maiden name, Qi Rong Yin.
She thought it was indeed a beautiful name.
Consort An returned to the low table and sat down gracefully, her every movement exuding an elegance refined by the passage of time: “This grieving one entered the palace with her. Because of Empress Dowager Qi, she was given the title of Consort upon entering the palace, while this grieving one was only made a Worthy Consort. At that time, Noble Consort Jia was highly favored. Any consort who gained the late Emperor’s favor would suffer at Noble Consort Jia’s hands. She once helped this grieving one out of a difficult situation. With our acquaintance from our maiden days, we became quite close.”
The sound of water was clear and melodious as Consort An pushed a cup of brewed tea towards Fan Changyu. She seemed lost in memories and smiled faintly.
“Rong Yin was a person of very mild temperament, not at all like someone who had entered the palace to vie for favor for the Qi family’s honor. But it was precisely this detachment from worldly affairs that made the late Emperor want to give her everything, causing Noble Consort Jia to be jealous for quite some time.”
Consort An’s smile faded, and she shook her head: “Perhaps it had nothing to do with temperament. After all, what man wouldn’t be moved by such a beauty? Cold as a secluded orchid when not smiling, yet radiant as a lotus when she did. At that time, in the capital, Wei Yan and General Xie were the twin pillars of civil and military beauty among men, while Rong Yin and Wei Wan were the twin beauties among women.”
Fan Changyu knew that Wei Wan was Xie Zheng’s mother.
Perhaps it was Consort An’s clear, calm voice that carried a sense of time-worn melancholy, but Fan Changyu found herself absorbed in listening to this tale of the past, holding her teacup without taking a single sip.
“In the palace, Rong Yin was never truly happy. No matter what the late Emperor bestowed upon her, it was difficult to make her smile. She liked high places, and the Star-Plucking Tower was a place she often visited. Sometimes she would stand there for an entire morning. Later, for some unknown reason, the late Emperor ordered the Star-Plucking Tower to be demolished and neglected Rong Yin for quite some time.”
“This grieving one asked Rong Yin what she always looked at from the tower. She said she was homesick.”
Consort An poured herself a cup of tea as well. After taking a small sip, she continued smiling, though with a hint of sadness at the passage of time: “This grieving one doesn’t know if her words were true, but in her second year in the palace, Wei Yan got married and had a son by the end of the year. That New Year’s Eve, the late Emperor had intended to bring her to meet the court officials, but she fell ill. In the end, it was Noble Consort Jia who accompanied the late Emperor. Noble Consort Jia thought Rong Yin was showing weakness and became quite smug for a while. During that period, the palace was relatively peaceful.”
Fan Changyu had already begun to guess something and asked, “Was Consort Shu’s death truly related to Wei Yan?”