Xie Yanlai’s quarters were spotlessly clean with incense burning, no less comfortable than the Empress’s residence.

A-Le circled through the rooms: “He didn’t return all night. Nothing here has been used.”

Was he in a bad mood last night? Is that why he didn’t return? Chu Zhao asked the soldier standing guard: “Where did he go? Was anyone following him?”

The soldier replied: “Last night General Xie was with his guards. He told us not to wait for him.”

Although Xie Yanlai had come claiming to recover from his injuries, he had also brought more than a dozen personal guards.

Chu Zhao immediately sent people to summon them. The soldiers went and quickly ran back.

“Those men are also gone,” they reported, their expressions shocked. “The sentries said General Xie left with his men last night and hasn’t returned.”

Hearing this, A-Le exclaimed: “Young mistress, he’s run away.”

Run away? Chu Zhao was momentarily stunned.

“He always said he didn’t come to fight. He must have grown tired and gone back,” A-Le said. “Check the routes to the border provinces and the capital—we’ll surely find him.”

Chu Zhao smiled and shook her head: “No, he wouldn’t run away.”

But the next moment her brow furrowed. Not only would he not run home, he might have gone to do something dangerous.

In Uncle Zhong’s past letters, half or more were complaints, denunciations, and curses about Xie Yanlai—how he disobeyed orders, acted on his authority, and no one ever knew what he was thinking. Launching a surprise attack on Western Liang every ten days or half a month was considered a minor issue, until finally he pulled off the capture of the King of Western Liang.

Uncle Zhong said that when he learned of this news, he felt no joy at all; instead, he was so frightened he nearly couldn’t catch his breath.

Xie Yanlai hadn’t truly been recovering quietly here either. Soon after arriving, he had commanded troops to launch a surprise attack on Xiao Xun’s rear, helping her cross the Yellow River. Later, when faced with Xiao Xun’s army threatening civilians, he had ordered a retreat—an action the commanders were still dissatisfied with. It wasn’t that they wanted to disregard civilian lives, but they felt there should have been a discussion, or at least informing the Empress first. Yet Xie Yanlai had decided on his own.

Now he had suddenly disappeared, and no one knew what frightening thing might happen.

His injuries had indeed been severe; it had taken all this time for him to just begin recovering.

Chu Zhao’s hand at her side clenched, and suddenly she, too, could barely breathe as a thought occurred to her.

Could he have taken his men and gone after Xiao Xun?

“Your Highness,” a soldier asked, “should we pursue and investigate or not?”

Chu Zhao slowly shook her head, then nodded: “We can’t pursue, yet we can’t not pursue.”

The soldier was confused. So what should they do?

A-Le sighed beside her. A-Jiu had confused the young mistress.

What she meant was that she feared Xie Yanlai had truly gone after Xiao Xun, and pursuing him might alert the enemy and expose his whereabouts. But if they didn’t pursue, and Xie Yanlai had truly gone after Xiao Xun, he had only a few men—undoubtedly like a moth to the flame.

Find him, stop him. If they couldn’t stop him, they should help him.

Chu Zhao took a deep breath and had A-Le bring the phoenix seal to issue an order. She instructed the soldier: “Dispatch a group of scouts to investigate secretly.”

The soldier acknowledged the order.

Watching the soldier leave with his orders, A-Le quietly advised: “Young mistress, please rest for a while. You haven’t slept for a day and a night.” Then she quickly added, “Otherwise, when there’s news of Xie Yanlai, you won’t have the strength to catch him.”

Chu Zhao smiled and said: “You’re right. I’ll go to sleep well to regain my strength.”

A-Le nodded happily, secretly relieved. She had been worried that the young mistress would be so concerned about A-Jiu that she couldn’t eat or sleep, so she had used A-Jiu to persuade her. It worked indeed.

But then she became confused—what was there to be happy about using A-Jiu to persuade the young mistress to eat and sleep well? This was all because of that A-Jiu in the first place!

Regardless of how A-Le repeatedly complained about Xie Yanlai in her heart, Chu Zhao ate, bathed, and then lay down on the bed, lowering the thick curtains. Inside the bed curtains, it was as dark as night.

Chu Zhao closed her eyes.

He must have been upset by seeing the civilian casualties.

But why couldn’t he talk to her about it?

What was there that couldn’t be discussed?

She hated Xiao Xun too—no one in the world hated him more than she did.

What if he never returned from this journey?

Chu Zhao opened her eyes and pressed her hand against her chest, her heart pounding so hard it made her feel suffocated.

Would Xie Yanlai die?

In that other life, she had never heard of a person named Xie Yanlai. She didn’t know what kind of person he was, or whether he lived or died.

Chu Zhao couldn’t lie still. She wanted to get up, but feared that A-Le would hear from outside and worry. So she simply sat on the bed, covering her face with her hands and burying her head on her knees.

What would she do if Xie Yanlai died?

……

……

The weather grew increasingly hot. Spring flowers had barely wilted before summer arrived.

Sitting in the main hall of the Prince’s residence, Xiao Xun vigorously fanned himself a few times, then slammed the fan heavily on the table.

A letter on the table fell to the ground.

Ning Kun walked in, saw this scene, and said: “Young Master shouldn’t have paid any attention to this letter. Chu Zhao is certainly trying to provoke you.”

Earlier, news that the noble clans of Han Commandery had rebelled and turned to the Empress had temporarily interrupted Xiao Xun and Ning Kun’s discussion about writing to Chu Zhao to persuade her to surrender. But later, Xiao Xun had still written to Chu Zhao.

And Chu Zhao had replied. The letter had just been delivered.

Xiao Xun glanced at the letter that had fallen to the ground and smiled slightly: “Lady Chu Zhao says she has no interest in being my Empress because she has already been an Empress. However, if I truly admire her and am willing to be her secret lover, she would reserve a place for me in the palace.”

Ning Kun was furious: “This shameless wench is truly disgraceful.”

Xiao Xun laughed: “Indeed, this sounds like something Lady Chu Zhao would say.”

Ning Kun said coldly: “This wench is smug because she has captured two cities, both due to local noble families’ betrayal. She truly thinks she’s so formidable.”

The smile disappeared from Xiao Xun’s face: “I was just troubled about this very thing.” He pressed his forehead and sighed lightly, “I don’t know where I went wrong, causing them to betray me, giving no thought to their family members serving as officials in the commandery city.”

Of course, now all these noble families’ relatives had been beheaded.

Ning Kun said angrily: “This has nothing to do with you, Young Master. These noble families are just like this—cunning with multiple escape routes. They had been planning this for a long time. On one hand, they gained the Prince’s trust; on the other, they must have also established connections with the imperial court. Making them rebel couldn’t have happened overnight.”

At this point, he glanced outside.

“Of course, if we must blame ourselves, it’s because of Deng Yi.”

Xiao Xun sighed lightly: “It seems Deng Yi’s execution of the Lin family over grain prices still disheartened many people. I wasn’t able to reassure everyone.”

“Deng Yi shows off his power even in front of you,” Ning Kun said softly. “How could your reassurances convince everyone?”

Xiao Xun was silent for a moment: “Currently, he has the right to show off in front of me.” He glanced at Ning Kun. “You understand this better than others.”

Outsiders saw that because Deng Yi held the late Emperor’s decree as regent, the Young Master, not yet having reclaimed the throne, was in a weaker position before him.

But for Xiao Xun, what Deng Yi truly held over him was the poisoning of the Prince of Zhongshan.

The character for “longevity” that had poisoned the Prince of Zhongshan was not a plot from the imperial court—it was painted by the Young Master’s hand. Ning Kun lowered his gaze. All of this had been arranged by him.

He had stolen the Prince of Zhongshan’s seal and given Xiao Xun access to connections in the capital, enabling Xiao Xun’s comprehensive planning.

If this fact were revealed, the crime of patricide, despite the late Emperor’s decree, would ensure Xiao Xun could never sit on the throne.

Ning Kun sighed inwardly. What could be done? To get what one wants, one inevitably loses some freedom. Life is just that difficult.

“Young Master—” a guard rushed in from outside, “The Imperial Tutor has been attacked—”

Imperial Tutor? Deng Yi?

Xiao Xun stood up abruptly. Ning Kun’s expression was shocked, but the next moment they exchanged glances, and each saw a question in the other’s eyes.

Was it you?

Instantly, they both realized. Ning Kun quickly lowered his gaze, with his action denying that it was him.

Xiao Xun frowned and called for Tie Ying.

Tie Ying entered from outside.

Tie Ying was his most trusted and capable man. If he truly wanted Deng Yi dead, he would have Tie Ying do it.

So this wasn’t his doing either.

He didn’t want Deng Yi dead right now.

“Tie Ying,” Xiao Xun said, “go find out what happened.”