In the spring of the fourth year of the Shenglin era, a fine drizzle fell from overcast skies.

The Luanyi Pavilion of Crown Princess Yang Fu, once the most opulent palace hall in the Daming Palace, now had half its candles and floor lamps extinguished, with palace maids long since dismissed. The incense burners that had run dry and the gilt decorative vessels were covered with a layer of desolate, declining shadow.

Ten days ago, the Crown Prince had been thrown into the imperial prison. Emperor Chenming had fallen ill in haste, and Prince Yan, the Emperor’s third son, had barely removed his armor before sitting upon the throne with a clatter. Rumor had it that Prince Yan was bloodthirsty, and the entire palace trembled beneath his shadow, unable to predict this new emperor’s temperament.

The Crown Prince hadn’t died, and Prince Yan hadn’t acted with complete abandon—except for frequently summoning the confined Crown Princess to the Liangyi Hall to copy Buddhist scriptures and pray for Emperor Chenming’s recovery.

Yang Fu was a princess of the former dynasty, educated and versed in Sanskrit.

However, the carriage bearing the terrified Yang Fu would only return past noon, and with each return came later than the last. Gossip among the cleaning palace servants spread like wildfire.

Some said they’d seen the Crown Princess weak-legged and unable to walk, carried back by her wardrobe maids.

Others said that Prince Yan’s prayers were merely pretense, his personal revenge the truth—because years ago when the state of Chu fell, Prince Yan had sought to marry the beautiful Princess Bao’an, but Yang Fu had ultimately rejected him to marry the Crown Prince instead. Prince Yan didn’t believe in gods or Buddha anyway, so now that he held great power, he imprisoned his imperial brother and claimed his sister-in-law. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d acted this way…

The gossip grew increasingly ugly. Qun Qing could listen no longer and struck the window lattice forcefully.

The “thud” startled like a stone thrown at sparrows. The whispered rumors at the base of the wall scattered in alarm, while the sound of knuckles against lattice lingered endlessly.

Inside the hall, the water clock dripped—drip, drop—like a countdown, synchronizing with Qun Qing’s disordered heartbeat. She stared unblinking at the palace path, completely ignoring the pain seeping into her bones.

Finally, Qun Qing saw that figure with the high chignon and jacket-skirt running back along the palace path, calling out as she ran: “Qun Siji! Qun Siji! This servant has returned!”

It was Xiang Cao, Yang Fu’s wardrobe maid.

Before Xiang Cao could approach, Qun Qing pushed open the window. Her first glance fell on that rosewood box still sealed and clutched in Xiang Cao’s arms. Her heart grew half cold: “You didn’t see the Crown Princess?”

“No. There were so many armored men outside Liangyi Hall—护 护guards from Prince Yan’s mansion. They wouldn’t let palace servants enter. This servant said she was delivering medicine to the Crown Princess, but they still wouldn’t allow it.” Xiang Cao spoke with a tearful voice. “They only relayed a message saying that three volumes of Buddhist scriptures remained incomplete, and His Highness Prince Yan would keep the Crown Princess for a meal to continue this afternoon. It’s already past noon—who knows if the Crown Princess’s body can endure…”

Qun Qing’s expression froze for an instant: “Today there were mansion troops surrounding the hall entrance?”

Xiang Cao wiped the sweat from her face: “Yes. They said that when Prince Yan supervised the state, he ordered an attack on Nan Chu, and spies from Nan Chu in the palace heard the news and desperately lashed out. Recently there have been three or four assassination attempts, so these past days, wherever His Highness Prince Yan goes, protective guards accompany him closely. That’s what they say, but…”

Xiang Cao glanced fearfully around, then suddenly stopped, looking as if she might cry. “Siji, this servant is terrified something happened inside the hall. Tell me—could the Crown Princess have angered Prince Yan somehow, alarming so many mansion troops? Otherwise, why wouldn’t they let this servant see the Crown Princess?”

Qun Qing stared at her with jet-black eyes: “I asked you to remind the Crown Princess to return early to take her medicine. Did the Crown Princess send a reply?”

“Yes.” Xiang Cao calmed somewhat. “The Crown Princess had someone relay to this servant that… she knows, and will return once the copying is complete.”

Qun Qing was silent for a moment, then dismissed her: “Since the Crown Princess said so, there’s no need to worry.”

“This servant frightens herself too easily.” Xiang Cao lifted her skirts to leave, then suddenly turned back with a smile. “Siji has come to Luanyi Pavilion to teach only a few times, yet you’ve already memorized the times when the Crown Princess takes her daily medicine. Since the palace servants were reduced, this servant has been busy as a spinning top. If not for your reminder, even I, her maid, would have forgotten to deliver medicine to the Crown Princess.”

Qun Qing seemed slightly surprised, but this surprise was quickly concealed beneath her crow-black lashes. She curved her lips almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment.

The female officials of the Six Offices were mostly composed and unsmiling. Their intelligence, learning, and career ambitions rivaling those of men left them with virtually no common language with palace maids. Qun Qing was particularly taciturn among them, quietly arriving with her box and departing with it, yet Xiang Cao sensed none of that inscrutable coldness and arrogance from her.

Once, Xiang Cao had exchanged tokens with a young man she fancied in the front courtyard. It was Qun Qing’s thrown stone that warned her, preventing Zhu Shangyi from catching them. Since then, Xiang Cao had determined she was someone cold-faced but warm-hearted.

If not a person of feeling, she wouldn’t continue teaching the Crown Princess as before when the Crown Prince was confined and everyone avoided him like plague.

Only in these past months, Qun Siji had grown thinner day by day, as if bearing some heavy burden on her heart.

Xiang Cao glanced at the empty sleeping chamber, wanting to help: “Will Siji still wait for the Crown Princess? Won’t it delay your later duties? Should this servant make another trip to Liangyi Hall to ask…”

“No need for your meddling.” Qun Qing abruptly cut her off. “Just attend to your assigned duties.”

Xiang Cao bit her lip and withdrew.

Qun Qing closed the window, her face instantly becoming pale and tense. She spread paper and gripped her brush with terrifyingly hasty movements. The sky outside grew darker, the window light insufficient to illuminate the characters on the paper, as if heavy rain approached.

Just mansion troops surrounding the hall had already sparked unpleasant associations in Xiang Cao.

If this little maid knew that Crown Princess Yang Fu had gone today precisely to assassinate Prince Yan, she’d likely faint from fright on the spot.

Now Yang Fu was like meat on a chopping block, detained in Liangyi Hall with layers of mansion troops surrounding it—no matter how one looked at it, this was no auspicious sign.

Qun Qing stared at the paper as calmly as possible, suddenly thinking this might be the last letter she left for the princess. At this thought, she bit through her index finger, squeezing out bright red droplets to write in blood.

Amid piercing pain, a sudden wave of nausea surged from her lungs, soaking her clothing with sweat.

Since the failed assassination at winter solstice, her grave injuries hadn’t healed. Her body had reached its limit, frequently experiencing sensations of approaching death. Qun Qing endured the dizziness, her characters slightly crooked.

Over these years, Nan Chu’s hope of national restoration had vanished. Da Chen had devoured them bite by bite, finally reaching this last step where even Princess Bao’an was sacrificed.

In truth, Nan Chu’s people had long wanted to make use of Princess Bao’an. Though Prince Yan possessed imperial talent, he had one enormous weakness: his obsession with Princess Bao’an. Disregarding her status as a princess of the former dynasty and her marriage to the current Crown Prince, his judgment clouded by lust—this was an exploitable opportunity. They should persuade Princess Bao’an to feign submission to Prince Yan, then seek future opportunities to steal the state. Could there be any easier method?

But Qun Qing didn’t want the princess to submit herself.

Yang Fu had already lost her state and family. To also humble herself pleasing a man she detested—what heart-piercing agony would that be? Qun Qing chose the most foolish method. She never relayed this suggestion to the princess. All bloody matters, she handled personally.

Princess Bao’an lived peacefully in the palace. She married as she wished the young lord Li Xuan whom she’d loved since childhood, becoming Crown Princess.

The Crown Prince governed with warmth and benevolence. Had he become the new emperor, he might have allowed Nan Chu a corner of peace and recuperation for the princess’s sake. Unfortunately, within a few years, the Crown Prince was maneuvered by Prince Yan into the imperial prison. Prince Yan excelled at warfare. His first act upon seizing power was personally leading troops to attack Nan Chu, completing the unification of the central plains.

Crown Prince Zhao of Nan Chu panicked completely. Bypassing Qun Qing, he used a family letter to assign the mission directly to Princess Bao’an.

“I received Imperial Brother Zhao’s letter.” That night, Yang Fu’s tears fell in streams. She leaned in to embrace Qun Qing, the princess’s body ice-cold and heavy like a jade sculpture collapsing onto her, pressing until she couldn’t breathe. “I am ultimately a nation’s princess. Li Huan treating me this way, treating me like this… If I endure even this humiliation, how can I face Father Emperor, Elder Sister, the ancestral temple and state?”

“And you, Qing Qing—when you returned that time, bleeding so much, you terrified me.” Yang Fu cried in her ear. “Qing Qing, only you remain to me. Without you, surrounded by wolves and tigers, what will I do hereafter? Li Huan has eight sworn guards around him. To get close to him, won’t you shed a layer of skin? But I can approach him conveniently. Isn’t he asking me to copy scriptures? I’m willing to do this—please stop frightening me with talk of limited time…”

Unable to dissuade the princess, Qun Qing treated this assassination as a desperate gamble. She personally removed the poison pearl her mother had left her, affixed it inside the princess’s long nail sheath, and taught her how to poison Li Huan subtly before escaping unharmed.

However, though planning seemed simple, execution proved difficult.

Li Huan was a battle-hardened military man, while Princess Bao’an was a sheltered flower who had never once attempted assassination. When she didn’t return, Qun Qing knew trouble—she feared some flaw exposed, allowing Li Huan to see through it.

Sending Xiang Cao to deliver medicine to Princess Bao’an was merely sending a coded inquiry about the princess’s safety—a code she and Yang Fu had agreed upon.

If successful and safe: “Already took it this morning.”

If trouble arose: “Will take it tonight after returning.”

But Yang Fu’s answer wasn’t either of their prearranged responses.

Most likely the princess had fallen under Li Huan’s control, this sentence perhaps even answered by Prince Yan himself.

Xiang Cao said those Nan Chu spies who assassinated Li Huan had been sent to the Ministry of Justice—they’d captured someone alive. She didn’t know how many among them knew she, Qun Qing, was hiding within the Six Offices. If anyone confessed, her death was only a matter of time.

Had she known this outcome, she shouldn’t have agreed to Yang Fu, shouldn’t have let the princess take such risks.

She must preserve the princess before being exposed herself.

Qun Qing folded the letter and placed it in Princess Bao’an’s jade pillow when hurried footsteps suddenly came from behind. The hall doors burst open as Xiang Cao stammered: “Qun—Qun Siji, Eunuch Liang who serves His Highness Prince Yan has arrived.”

Behind her, an inner attendant in a date-red robe strode into the hall. Eunuch Liang’s gaze fell upon her with a sharp expression: “By decree of His Highness Prince Yan—”

Xiang Cao prostrated herself. Qun Qing stood with hands lowered to receive the command. Eunuch Liang withdrew from his sleeve a piece of white silk covered with writing, glanced at her, and announced in a high, affected voice: “Qun Qing, Rank Six Compiler of the Shangyi Bureau, suspected of treason and attempted assassination of an imperial prince, is summoned to Jinglian Pavilion for questioning.”

These unfamiliar words crashed down. Xiang Cao’s body shook like a sieve, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at Qun Qing as if not recognizing her.

Qun Qing’s face paled. She stared fixedly at that decree, feeling as if she stood on a lone boat leaking from all sides: “Subject Qun Qing declares this a grave injustice. One dwelling in the inner palace, not at court, who cannot even see His Highness Prince Yan’s face in daily life—what treasonous acts could be committed? Please, Eunuch, clarify.”

While her mouth stalled for time, her mind turned the decree over and over, trying to find some flaw. Treason, assassination of an imperial prince, Jinglian Pavilion, Jinglian Pavilion…

Something was wrong. Prince Yan should currently be at Liangyi Hall—why would he summon her to distant Jinglian Pavilion for questioning? These two locations were practically at opposite corners of the palace.

Eunuch Liang: “This servant wants to ask you—you’re a compiler of palace regulations for the Shangyi Bureau. On duty days, you shouldn’t be at the Crown Princess’s sleeping chamber. Don’t you know the Crown Princess is confined and cannot receive guests?”

Xiang Cao wanted to speak but stopped. Qun Qing said: “The Shangyi Bureau, on Her Majesty the Empress’s orders, teaches the Crown Princess inner palace etiquette on the second and third of each month. Zhu Shangyi delegated this task to me. Since she hasn’t countermanded it, I continue fulfilling my duties. Eunuch may verify this with Zhu Shangyi.”

Eunuch Liang laughed twice: “This servant needn’t verify with anyone—Siji’s words are already full of holes! Lessons for nobility begin early morning and end after one hour, absolutely cannot drag past noon. Moreover, the Crown Princess went to Liangyi Hall early. You didn’t take your leave but stayed alone in Luanyi Pavilion teaching to empty air? Or perhaps,” Eunuch Liang narrowed his eyes, “you were hiding here acting as military advisor behind the Crown Princess?”

As his words landed, Qun Qing’s expression remained unchanged: “Eunuch Liang, I did indeed finish teaching this morning. But the Crown Princess, distressed by her confinement, insisted I play chess with her. Midway through the game, His Highness Prince Yan suddenly requested the Crown Princess go to Liangyi Hall to copy scriptures.”

She slowly shifted aside half a step, revealing the chessboard on the table. “The Crown Princess couldn’t bear to abandon this game and ordered me to guard the board until her return to continue. Eunuch Liang, while the Crown Prince remains unconvicted, the Crown Princess remains the future nation’s mother for one more day. I’m merely a minor sixth-rank official—how dare I offend her? If you were in my position, Eunuch, how would you refuse?”

Eunuch Liang craned his neck. On the chessboard, black and white stones were densely arranged in a deadlocked killing game. Beside it sat cold teacups and half-eaten pastries, making truth difficult to discern.

The notion that these two young women, usually having nothing to do with each other, spent their days plotting national rebellion together—it did seem absurd.

Eunuch Liang felt both embarrassed and annoyed: “This servant merely relays the command. Qun Siji wastes words with this servant to no purpose—hurry and depart.”

Xiang Cao’s hands and feet were ice-cold as she lay on the ground in silent stillness. She remembered when the princess left, there was clearly no chessboard on the table, nor those refreshments…

More terrifying still—Qun Qing dared so boldly defy Prince Yan’s decree. Wasn’t she afraid of being beaten to death? Xiang Cao mustered all her courage, trembling as she reached for Qun Qing’s hem, but unexpectedly she suddenly moved forward, leaving Xiang Cao sprawled on the floor.

“With slight inquiry, Eunuch can learn that Qun Qing has been conscientious in the Six Offices, every action according to palace regulations, precisely to maintain an official’s good reputation. Without stating reasons, His Highness Prince Yan shouldn’t rashly suspect, sullying my reputation and also sullying the Crown Princess’s reputation.” Qun Qing had slowly advanced toward Eunuch Liang. With phoenix eyes and thin lips, her face appeared cool and pale, yet the slender neckline beneath her chignon possessed a kind of solitary, upright curve. When she assumed an official tone, she carried some authority.

Her gaze fell directly on the silk in Eunuch Liang’s hand—that piece seemed casually torn from a sleeve, its edges rough. After staring awhile, she suddenly snatched it away. Eunuch Liang jumped in alarm: “What are you… How dare you!”

“Since the second year of Shenglin, there has been a decree informing the Shangfu Bureau that mulberry silk clothing, hats, scarves, and silks must not be given to His Highness Prince Yan, precisely because His Highness develops hives and itching from silkworm silk. Around His Highness, probably not even a single silk article can be found—how could he use it to write a decree?”

Qun Qing rebuked: “Eunuch Liang, you’re the bold one. At whose command do you falsify an imperial prince’s decree? Can he endure severe punishment for you, lose his head for you?”

Though not loud, this voice brought instant silence to the hall. Xiang Cao was dumbstruck. Eunuch Liang, unable to explain himself, revealed a trace of panic in his eyes.

There’s still hope… Like a drowning person catching a breath, Qun Qing spread the silk to examine it carefully. Just now when the silk was backlit, viewed from behind there were indeed characters. This closer look reassured her further. The silk bore neither Li Huan’s handwriting, nor was its content remotely what Eunuch Liang had proclaimed as the “decree.”

Qun Qing focused her gaze, then suddenly felt coldness creeping from her back to her tailbone. The characters on the silk were beautiful, drawing out wanton claws and fangs:

“Siji’s dutiful diligence puts me to shame.

Princess Bao’an’s fortune or calamity depends upon you.

Having seen this letter, Qun Siji is well. I anticipate our meeting.”

The writer of this silk letter spoke with a smiling tone, addressing her directly.

Connecting this to the previous scene, it seemed he had predicted she’d detect flaws in the decree and seize the silk to examine it, deliberately arranging this grand yet absurdly ridiculous charade for her.

Had she panicked and exposed herself, she would have already been captured just now!

Eunuch Liang’s voice sounded nearby: “To speak truthfully, Siji, this servant acted at the command of Chief Administrator Lu of Prince Yan’s mansion. This servant is guilty and will accept punishment afterward. Please, Siji, show forbearance.”

Lu Huating—this name was even more terrifying than Prince Yan’s name.

Every time, he gave her this same spine-chilling sensation.

This man was a strategist in Prince Yan’s mansion, extremely cunning. With his assistance, Prince Yan could ascend so rapidly. She and Lu Huating had clashed covertly several times. Each time she sought revenge against Li Huan, she failed precisely because Li Huan had Chief Administrator Lu beside him.

Lu Huating was like a snake lurking in darkness, waiting to strike, following any thread relentlessly. Several times he nearly bit back at her, so that this name pressed on her heart like a mountain, becoming her nightmare.

At this moment, holding the silk, Qun Qing broke out in cold sweat, her heart lodged in her throat pounding wildly—all instinctive bodily reactions.

Previously Prince Yan was in the light while she remained in shadow, an inconspicuous hidden agent among the courtiers. Now Lu Huating summoned her by name—there was the absurdity and terror of having her veil torn away, exposed before others.

In this instant, Qun Qing felt with absolute clarity that he had discovered her identity. One song had ended, victory and defeat decided. The plan had failed!

“Princess Bao’an’s life depends upon you…”

Those serpent-like characters coiled on the paper. The princess’s life, rather than falling into Li Huan’s hands, was grasped in Lu Huating’s palm.

Li Huan still harbored lustful desires that hindered him regarding the princess. What did Lu Huating have? He struck without mercy. Long ago he’d wanted to kill Princess Bao’an, only restrained by Li Huan’s obstruction.

These years as Prince Yan’s influence grew daily, Lu Huating’s power also soared. He acted with impunity. Previously he’d killed many against Prince Yan’s wishes, yet in the end, Li Huan still chose to protect him.

For an emperor, after all, beauties were easily obtained, good generals difficult to find.

Qun Qing suppressed her trembling hands, touching her sleeves and collar: “Please wait a moment, Eunuch. Allow me to change clothes.”