“Afraid? Ridiculous,” Madam Zhuang scoffed, turning her head away disdainfully.
“Oh?” Fu Yixiao drawled, her smile laden with meaning. She stepped aside, “If you’re not afraid, then please follow me inside to wait for a while. The other consorts should arrive soon.”
Madam Zhuang followed Fu Yixiao involuntarily. As they walked, Yixiao asked casually, “Does Madam Zhuang know why I chose Shuchen Hall for the trial, scheduled it at night, and invited all the consorts to attend?”
Curling her lip, Madam Zhuang mocked, “Besides showing off your power in front of us, what else can you do?”
Yixiao smiled, gently running her hand over the hanging veils as they passed. “Guyu has been gone for over a month, and I still haven’t found the true culprit. So, I thought I’d use the energy of Shuchen Hall and the spiritual essence of all the madams to summon his soul back, to let him tell me who harmed him.”
Madam Zhuang’s heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to ask calmly, “If any of the consorts are frightened, you won’t be able to bear the consequences.”
“All the madams are under the Emperor’s blessing. How could they fear spirits?” Yixiao replied without turning back, continuing to walk into the side hall where the altar was set up.
The side hall was only a few walls away from the Cold Palace where deposed empresses and consorts were confined. Clear sounds of sorrowful weeping could be heard from the Cold Palace, but Yixiao seemed not to notice. She stood before the altar, her expression reverent and serene as she merged into the incense mist, murmuring prayers. As the wind stirred, the candle flames flickered, casting an eerie light on her profile.
Madam Zhuang stood awkwardly to the side, while the maid who had accompanied them was already shaking like a leaf in the wind. Suddenly, they heard the sound of carriages and laughter from outside. Madam Zhuang brightened immediately, “They’re here. I’ll go greet them.” She quickly left Fu Yixiao and hurried towards the main hall.
From a distance, Yixiao turned to watch her retreating figure, smiling as she slowly inserted the incense bundle into the censer on the altar. “Guyu, it’s your turn.”
Rushing into the hall, Madam Zhuang suddenly stopped, looking around uncertainly, as if searching for something.
As the maid was wondering, Madam Zhuang suddenly grabbed her, asking anxiously, “Did you hear any sound?”
Seeing her panic, the maid also became frightened. “Just… just now I heard carriage sounds and laughter, but I couldn’t tell which consort it was. Now I don’t hear anything.”
Madam Zhuang’s grip on the maid’s hand loosened slightly, then tightened again. “If they’ve arrived, why hasn’t anyone come in yet?”
The maid swallowed hard, glancing around fearfully, forcing a smile, “Perhaps they’re walking slowly…”
Just as she said this, her words were cut off abruptly. Because at that moment, a sound seemed to come from somewhere in the hall. It was like a sigh, or a deep, slow breath. It seemed far away, yet also right by their ears. Accompanying it was a series of heavy, slow footsteps, one after another, as if treading on one’s heart.
Madam Zhuang was too shocked to speak, her fingers clutching tightly at her collar, her knuckles white from the force. Her eyes were fixed on the pitch-black hall entrance, as if the moment she looked away, a hideous monster would pounce out.
“Your Highness… Shuchen Hall has always been… unclean. We should… go out first…” The maid’s voice was already tinged with tears. Hearing this, Madam Zhuang shuddered and abandoned the maid, running madly towards the hall entrance.
The moonlight streaming in from outside seemed to ripple like blue waves against the white veils. In an instant, Madam Zhuang had run to the front hall. She wanted to escape this gloomy, dark hall, to flee this terrifying place!
Her frantic footsteps suddenly stopped. In the moonlit shadows of the veils, a tall figure was gradually emerging, slowly walking out step by step. Bright red blood dripped from his body onto the ground, and wherever he passed, the white mourning clothes turned deep red…
Madam Zhuang wanted to scream, but no sound came from her mouth. She took one step back, then two, and on the third step, she suddenly bumped into something. She turned her head in terror, and the maid who had been following her had somehow turned into Consort Hui, her face covered in blood yet twisted in a smile, just inches away…
“Ah—!” She finally screamed, waving her arms wildly. “Don’t blame me… don’t kill me, no, no, no, no—!”
The maid had not yet recovered from the shock of the figure appearing in the veils when she was startled out of her wits by Madam Zhuang’s scream. She saw Madam Zhuang stumbling towards the entrance like a drunk, shrieking, “It’s the Emperor, it is the Emperor… don’t come after me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me…”
She shouted incoherently as she rushed out of the hall like a gust of wind, suddenly colliding with someone. In her shock, she even forgot to scream, her eyes rolled back, and she fell backward limply.
Outside stood many people. Yes, many—not just the beauties from various palaces, but also all the civil and military officials of the court. Standing at the front, the one Madam Zhuang had bumped into, was the Emperor, Feng Qishan.
Feng Qishan’s cold gaze swept over Madam Zhuang, who lay unconscious at his feet, then slowly moved up, finally settling on the figure walking out of Shuchen Hall. In the moonlight, his face was somewhat distorted, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. “So, this is what you call overseeing the trial!”
Fu Yixiao walked gracefully, soon stopping in front of Feng Qishan. She tilted her face up slightly, smiling as she spoke, “I was in the inner room just now and couldn’t hear Madam Zhuang’s statement. I can only boldly ask Your Majesty and the other consorts to pass judgment on this case.”
There was complete silence.
Those behind Feng Qishan all looked at each other, no one daring to speak. Some of the more timid ones had already begun to slowly retreat. Among the crowd, the Yu father and son looked as pale as death.
After a long while, Feng Qishan let out a long breath and said in a deep voice, “The forest ambush case was plotted by the Yu clan, with Madam Zhuang providing inside information. Their crimes are equally severe. Convey my decree: strip Madam Zhuang of her rank, confine her to the Cold Palace and sentence her to three years of hard labor. The Yu clan, having attempted to assassinate royal kin, should be executed according to the law. However, considering Madam Zhuang’s years of service and the Yu father and son’s repeated contributions to Susha,” he paused, glaring fiercely at Fu Yixiao, “the Yu clan will be demoted to commoners for three generations and barred from official positions for ten years!”
Meeting his gaze, Fu Yixiao smiled slightly, kneeling and bowing, “Your Majesty’s wise judgment.” Only then did those behind Feng Qishan come to their senses, kneeling in disarray and hailing, “Long live the Emperor!”
Feng Qishan looked around at the kneeling crowd, then at Feng Suige, who was hurrying out of the hall with a smile. Feeling both ashamed and angry, he swept his sleeves and turned to leave.
Hearing the footsteps, Fu Yixiao had already risen and rushed back to Feng Suige’s side. Feng Suige’s slightly worried gaze moved from Feng Qishan’s retreating to Fu Yixiao’s spirited brow, softening into spring-like tenderness. “Go tell Guyu,” he said softly.