Returning to the palace, Jing Hengbo was about to remove her makeup when she suddenly remembered a plan she’d made this morning and hurriedly dragged Yong Xue to the small kitchen.

Zirui sat in the room as if in a dream, thinking about everything that had happened today, giggling foolishly while supporting her chin.

With no one else in the room – Jing Jun and Cui Jie were both tired and had returned to rest – Zirui sat dreamlike at the vanity, weakly slumping over it and cupping her burning red face.

Entering the palace at sixteen, four years had passed. Accustomed to strict palace rules, daily reciting regulations, every word and action measured as if by a ruler, constantly being instructed in feminine virtues and conduct to become the most qualified female official. She had never been so indulgent as today, never enjoyed such passionate gazes, never imagined that women could live so beautifully!

With her emotions running high, she unconsciously imitated Jing Hengbo, lazily supporting her chin with elegantly interlocked hands – a very feminine pose.

…

When Gong Yin entered, he saw a purple-dressed figure from behind.

The clothing was clearly Jing Hengbo’s – a very distinctive and beautiful long dress with a puffy skirt spread across the floor, showing delicate pointed shoe heels below and a snow-white slender neck above.

She maintained her usual posture, lazily leaning with chin propped up. The purple rhinestone lily hairpin at the back of her head was both elegant and alluring, like herself.

Her hair was slightly disheveled, gilded golden and fluffy by the evening light, with a few strands gently rising and falling with her breath.

Gong Yin suddenly felt his own breathing become irregular.

He was struck by this charming yet noble silhouette.

In a trance, deep palace halls and layered skirts… who was looking back in the light and shadow of memory, red lips like blood…

He fell into a bewildering state between reality and illusion, his heart mixed with sorrow and joy.

“You today…” he said somewhat dazedly, not knowing his own words escaped, “truly beautiful…”

The silhouette seemed to stiffen.

He also shuddered, as if not expecting such words from himself, yet after speaking them, felt nothing inappropriate. His heart vaguely felt – yes, this was right, stop being stuffy, tell her, tell her these hidden feelings, buried past events, memories from forgotten corners, and the sudden surge of overwhelming joy and slight bewilderment.

He had struggled to be strong all his life, unwilling to yield even before her, but what could such stubbornness bring? He suddenly wanted to try letting go.

He shouldn’t let his avoidance disappoint her expectant eyes. He wanted to see if his outpouring could truly light up her smile.

His heart ached slightly, but he didn’t want to care about it now.

He gently walked forward, his hand slightly raised, pausing in mid-air.

Crossing certain barriers required courage and strength. Fortunately, he never lacked these – once decided, he would act.

His hand gently fell on her shoulder, the position he had long anticipated.

“Hengbo…”

…

Zirui’s entire body had already stiffened.

When Gong Yin appeared at the door, she had already seen him in the mirror. Her first reaction was to kneel, but suddenly realized her current attire and behavior were treasonous.

How could she wear the Queen’s clothes, sit at the Queen’s vanity, and lazily lean like this!

This was a capital offense!

The meticulous Right State Preceptor would never forgive her!

Before she could figure out what to do, the State Preceptor entered and his first words shattered her sanity.

That voice, striving for stability yet slightly trembling – was it really the State Preceptor’s voice? However naive she was, she could understand how much unspoken affection leaked from that voice.

With those words, the entire room was immediately filled with ambiguous and romantic atmosphere. Behind her, the State Preceptor’s breathing slightly fluctuated. She tensed even more, her heart beating as if it would burst from her throat.

Such terrible luck…

The State Preceptor and the Queen…

How could someone like her overhear the private feelings of such important people?

Zirui prayed frantically for the State Preceptor to just leave.

But she was disappointed.

He stopped, he was silent, he seemed to be pondering… deciding… he was coming over!

Zirui was going crazy. The enormous psychological pressure made her want to immediately turn around, kneel down and cry for mercy, but she couldn’t move at all.

The State Preceptor walked behind her. Tension and fear made her quickly duck down lower so the mirror couldn’t reflect her face, but she could see the State Preceptor’s raised hand.

Heaven, no…

That hand still came down, and then the State Preceptor’s voice slowly rang out…

He was saying…

He was saying!

Zirui’s mind went blank, only his words forcefully entering her consciousness. For a moment she didn’t know what he was saying, her whole body extremely rigid, yet her mind frantically screaming: Heaven no don’t tell me these things don’t tell me these things heaven I’m dead I’m dead…

The hand on her shoulder was actually trembling slightly. The State Preceptor also seemed agitated, so his usual sharpness didn’t notice?

Heaven, let time flow back half a day – I’d never wear this dress!

…

“What are you doing!”

A voice suddenly broke the current stiffness.

Jing Hengbo stood dumbly at the threshold, unable to quite process the scene before her.

She even stepped back and looked up at the sky. Huh, no lightning striking down.

Simultaneously, Gong Yin abruptly withdrew his hand, looked down and his expression changed drastically, roaring: “Who are you!”

With a “thud,” Zirui flipped and fell to the ground, her knees hitting the floor with a heavy sound. She seemed to feel no pain, banging her head on the ground: “State Preceptor, spare my life! State Preceptor, spare my life!”

Gong Yin’s face rarely showed shocked anger. He turned to stare at Jing Hengbo standing at the threshold with an astonished expression, her Bohemian-style long dress wild yet flowing, red lips and sparkling eyes enchantingly curved – so alluring it made his heart clench.

Then he turned to stare at Zirui, immediately understanding what had happened. A flash of dark anger crossed his pale face.

Jing Hengbo’s heart jumped.

“Don’t!” she cried out.

Gong Yin’s command had already echoed through the palace: “Drag her out and execute her!”

“Your Majesty, save me!” Zirui let out a desperate wail.

Meng Hu and Yu Chun appeared from somewhere like lightning, grabbing and dragging Zirui out.

“Stop!” Jing Hengbo ran over, blocking the unmoved pair: “I said stop!”

“Wait.” Gong Yin said coldly behind her.

Hope rose in Jing Hengbo’s heart as she turned to look at him.

“Please don’t kill her? It was me…”

“Don’t dirty the clothes.” Gong Yin told Meng Hu.

Meng Hu understood, throwing Zirui to the ground: “Remove the clothes you’re wearing! You don’t deserve to die wearing them!”

Zirui trembled, too frightened to cry for help or beg for mercy, numbly reaching to untie her sash. Her hands shook too violently – she couldn’t untie it after two attempts.

“Don’t remove it!” Jing Hengbo stepped forward to shield her, glaring at Gong Yin: “Why kill her and humiliate her too! This isn’t her fault! I made her wear it!”

“Your Majesty…” the one weakly tugging at her skirt behind her was actually Zirui: “Don’t… don’t… this servant was wrong, this servant overstepped… this servant willingly accepts death. Please don’t say more, don’t say more!”

The frail woman wept, knowing today she was doomed – what condemned her to death wasn’t wearing inappropriate clothes or doing inappropriate things, but hearing inappropriate words.

Every sentence the Right State Preceptor spoke struck her like lightning. Not only the State Preceptor’s perhaps never-to-be-shared emotional thoughts, but also perhaps his first heartfelt revelations of imperial secrets, court privacy – those truths hidden deepest in history and old events, untouchable, carrying the dynasty’s buried bloody aura, unable even to be written down, only passed orally between the dynasty’s most noble people.

After hearing just a few sentences she despaired – not to mention her, even a Vice Minister hearing such words could only die.

She had made the mistake herself. If she hadn’t worried so much at the beginning, hadn’t been so afraid, had immediately knelt and confessed when the State Preceptor appeared, avoiding the State Preceptor confiding in the wrong person, maybe she’d still have a chance.

Now… all was lost…

“Don’t easily lose hope.” Jing Hengbo pushed away Meng Hu and Yu Chun, helping her up: “I’ve never heard of wearing clothes being a capital offense! Moreover, I forced you to wear this dress!”

Zirui found it hard to express her suffering, silently shedding tears.

“Your Majesty.” Gong Yin’s voice was very cold: “This is not your concern. Please withdraw temporarily.”

“This is my bedchamber.” Jing Hengbo turned around, not expecting Gong Yin to be so domineering and unreasonable. Anger also rose in her heart as she pointed at her nose: “Gong Yin, am I still the Queen or not?”

Gong Yin turned his face, his nose tip jade-cold in the evening light, his features clear as snow sculpture.

“Yes.”

His voice also emotionless.

“Am I the nation’s highest ruler?”

“Nominally, yes.”

“Do I have the power to pardon others?”

“As long as their crimes don’t warrant death.”

“Is wearing clothes a capital offense?”

“Wearing the Queen’s ceremonial dress is the crime of usurping power.”

“That’s not my ceremonial dress, it’s my ordinary daily dress.”

“Equivalent.”

“I’m not pursuing it!”

“If you don’t pursue it, others will naturally pursue it according to law.”

Meng Hu and Yu Chun dragged Zirui around Jing Hengbo, moving forward.

The woman said nothing, her long hair hanging down, having lost the will to live and not hoping for rescue.

Gong Yin avoided Jing Hengbo’s pressing gaze and turned away.

Jing Hengbo’s voice came clearly from behind him.

“Can’t I, as Queen, even protect one innocent person?”

Her voice seemed tragically bitter.

Gong Yin’s heart stirred.

She was hurt.

This cheerful, carefree woman with a strong, bright inner core who seemed never to be trapped by adverse circumstances had finally been wounded.

Jing Hengbo stood in place, clenching her fists, trembling slightly.

She knew it would be like this.

Seemingly possessing everything, actually having nothing.

Was he using such tragic consequences to warn her that her indulgences might not harm herself but would bring disaster to those around her?

Was he telling her not to think her outstanding performance at the welcoming ceremony would make her a true queen – before his long-established power, she would forever be a puppet!

A puppet who couldn’t even protect innocent people around her!

Zirui was silently dragged out, wearing only a white undergarment, the purple long dress scattered in the dust, dimmed and colorless.

Gong Yin lightly stepped out the door.

No one knew his hand was clenched into a fist in his sleeve, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

Just as no one understood his disappointment and shock at that moment, his mood plummeting into an abyss.

His chest felt blocked, or perhaps burning with heat – that was blood.

The heartfelt confidences he’d broken through barriers with great courage to pour out had been cast to a stranger’s ears. This was even harder to accept than having dynastic secrets discovered.

By emotion, reason, and reality, this female official absolutely could not be spared.

“Gong Yin!”

Now her voice no longer held the sharp anger from before, but rare calmness. The two words were spoken decisively and clearly – he had never heard her call him this way.

As if the moment after calling these two words, she would never call them again with such finality.

The lazy, cunning Jing Hengbo was never decisive.

His heart actually shook. Originally determined not to acknowledge her anymore, he now involuntarily stopped.

He stopped but didn’t turn back, his silhouette straight and unshakeable.

Her voice came, clear, calm, seemingly carrying three parts killing intent.

“If you kill her today, you’re declaring I can never protect those I want to protect. Then what use is being Queen? Why should I contribute to your Dahuang? I’m no saint – I won’t wrong myself. If you harm those I want to protect, I’ll leave here. Swamp cultivation, soil improvement, species experiments, and everything I know that could help Dahuang’s economy – I’ll never give Dahuang another bit!”

Jing Hengbo’s face was iron-blue, staring intently at his seemingly immovable silhouette.

Perhaps only by adding national interests and people’s livelihood would he seriously consider it.

She thought somewhat desolately – if she only threatened to leave herself, it probably wouldn’t work at all.

Gong Yin, with his back to her, still showed no movement. Meng Hu and Yu Chun, encountering their first formal argument, tensed their shoulders, stopping at the door with lowered heads, not daring to move.

Zirui turned her tear-stained face in shock, unable to believe the Queen would make such threats for her – this was the Queen’s only treasure for securing her position in Dahuang!

She couldn’t believe that the usually decisive, uncompromising State Preceptor was actually silent because of this, seeming to deliberate.

Right State Preceptor Gong Yin was famous for his rigid character. When he first became State Preceptor, facing a Huangjin tribe rebellion, he immediately led the Kanglong troops to suppress it despite his unstable position. After three days and nights of bloody battle in the Desolate Dragon Wastes, blood dyed the snow red. When the rebels desperately counterattacked in a last stand, taking innocent civilians hostage to storm the city – including elders from Gong Yin’s hometown – Gong Yin remained unmoved before the city, using heavenly fire tactics. Before the thirty-zhang city gate, corpses lay everywhere.

It was said that since then, Gong Yin never returned to his hometown.

Such a person wanting to kill someone like her – no one in the world could save her, especially when she truly deserved death.

Silence.

The air in the chamber seemed compressed into a thin, blade-sharp piece, blocking everyone’s throats, ready to cut them open the next instant.

Zirui trembled all over, prostrate and not daring to lift her head, no longer having courage to face her fate.

Jing Hengbo’s widened eyes gradually dimmed in the continuing silence, like evening when the sunset withdraws its brilliant glow.

Then she silently turned and walked away, struggling to drag her suitcase from the dressing room.

Cui Jie and the other two had already rushed over upon hearing the commotion, but dared not enter or mediate, standing on tiptoe by the window, watching with worried hearts.

The huge suitcase’s wheels rolled on the azure stone floor with rumbling sounds, as if grinding on people’s hearts.

“Have her swear a death oath.”

Gong Yin’s suddenly sounding voice was almost drowned by the suitcase’s dragging sound, yet everyone immediately heard it.

Zirui suddenly raised her head, desperate eyes bursting with enormous joy.

Jing Hengbo stumbled, pulled down by the huge suitcase.

Meng Hu and Yu Chun’s tensed shoulders relaxed, not daring to sigh with relief, only secretly exchanging glances.

Gong Yin still didn’t turn back, the back of his hand under his snow-white sleeves also bloodless.

“What does a death oath mean…” Jing Hengbo asked with a trace of hope.

“An oath guaranteed with one’s life. The oath-taker must take a court secret medicine. If they reveal anything, they’ll suffer ten thousand poisons devouring their body and die horribly. It’s the most serious type of oath…” Meng Hu quietly added, “At least life is preserved… Master is very merciful this time.”

Jing Hengbo nodded approvingly – not approving someone’s mercy, but thinking preserving life was enough. Keeping secrets was a proper duty anyway… wait, keeping secrets? What secrets? Wasn’t it just wearing her dress and sitting in her place? This needed a death oath for secrecy?

Jing Hengbo suddenly felt something was wrong. Had Gong Yin said something important to Zirui just now? Was that why he was so furious? Why Zirui had no hope of survival?

Her curiosity was suddenly piqued, but looking at Zirui, then at Gong Yin’s obviously cold back, she knew this matter would probably remain unknown to her forever.

“Guilty woman Xia Zirui swears with my humble life: throughout my life I’ll carefully guard secrets, not transmit to outside ears, until death. If violated, my family and I will suffer ten thousand poisons gnawing our hearts, sinking through generations in black water swamps, never to be freed!” Zirui had already eagerly sworn the oath, tilting her head back and swallowing without hesitation a foul-smelling pill Meng Hu handed over.

Afterward she collapsed as if severely punished, her back soaked with sweat.

Gong Yin still didn’t turn around, finally stepping over the threshold.

“Jing Hengbo.” Before leaving the palace gate he said finally, “Never again threaten me with national interests!”

Jing Hengbo’s mind was chaotic. Without thinking she retorted, “What else should I use? Emotions? Do you have any?”

Gong Yin’s silhouette stiffened, then he lifted his legs and walked away extremely quickly.

Meng Hu and Yu Chun’s faces turned ashen.

Young lady, that last line had even more devastating power than your threat just now!

Do you think Master only compromised against his principles because you threatened him with national interests?

Unable to speak these words, Meng Hu pointed at Gong Yin’s retreating figure, then at Jing Hengbo, gesturing frantically in sign language. Jing Hengbo watched in bewilderment and spat “Bah!” loudly.

Meng Hu held his forehead… Oh Master, meeting Jing Hengbo was your true tragedy…

“Still not leaving!” Gong Yin, who had walked quite far, barked sharply. Meng Hu and Yu Chun had no choice but to follow reluctantly.

Jing Hengbo stood at the door, watching Gong Yin cross through the palace gate back to next door. The study door slammed shut with a bang, no longer half-open for her peeping as it had been yesterday.

“Hypocrite!” Jing Hengbo cursed and sat back on her bed, sulking.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty…” Zirui crawled over sobbing, hugging her legs. “Sorry… sorry…”

“I should apologize to you.” Jing Hengbo helped her up, casually taking a handkerchief to wipe her face. “I shouldn’t have been willful, only to end up harming you…” She smiled bitterly. “Get up, get up. It’s fine now. Don’t look at me with such a miserable face – it makes me think you owe me eight million… Tsk tsk, look at your makeup, you’ve cried yourself into a ghost. So ugly…”

Under her nonsensical yet unusually warm chatter, Zirui gradually calmed down.

“That… the secret you swore to keep…” Jing Hengbo hesitated, wanting to pry.

“This servant swore a poison oath. If Your Majesty wants to know, you’ll have to wait until this servant dies.” Zirui looked up seriously.

“Fine, fine, I won’t ask. Keeping promises is good.” Jing Hengbo felt frustrated, wondering what exactly had happened.

“This servant only wants to say,” Zirui said softly, “Your Majesty must not misunderstand the State Preceptor. Today’s events were truly this servant’s fault. His punishment was reasonable. He… he’s truly a good person, and to Your Majesty he’s also… also very good.”

“Good?” Jing Hengbo’s anger surged, sneering coldly and grinding her teeth: “Good? So good indeed!”

Seeing her expression, Zirui knew she couldn’t persuade her now and could only sigh softly: “Your Majesty, this life of Zirui’s was saved by your desperate efforts. From now on, whether you beat or kill me, whether you want Zirui to go through fire or water, Zirui is willing. This life, from now on, belongs to You.”

“Why bother.” Jing Hengbo smiled casually, patting her shoulder. Her gaze involuntarily drifted toward next door.

She wasn’t an ancient person after all. Having someone’s life or loyalty held no appeal for her.

What she truly wanted, she didn’t know if others could give.

…

Jing Hengbo was sweating profusely in the kitchen.

Not because she’d lost her mind and started cooking herself – she was drilling into the steam from Yong Xue’s soup, excitedly shaking a small paper packet in her hand.

“I had Zirui find this for me.” Jing Hengbo was triumphant. “Palace secret medicine, specially for dealing with stubborn palace maids. After taking it, they become weak and have diarrhea, their whole body like pulled tendons, letting people bully them. Symptoms disappear after three days, and they can’t even remember clearly what happened during those three days… How perfect! It’s practically tailor-made for Yelu Qi!”

“Codonopsis, astragalus, and old duck stew,” Yong Xue said. “Clear broth with strong flavor can mask it.”

Yong Xue’s father had been a cook before dying of illness. Her mother sold her to a brothel to support her younger brother. She’d learned cooking from her father since childhood, starting to cook and care for her mother and brother at six. She was skilled at all household tasks. Jing Hengbo discovered that compared to tomboy Cui Jie and sickly beauty Jing Jun, the unremarkable little girl was a treasure.

Yong Xue placed the doctored soup on a tray. Just as Jing Hengbo was about to carry it away, Yong Xue suddenly asked: “Should we prepare another portion?”

Jing Hengbo understood from her look – she was asking whether to save good soup for Gong Yin. Yesterday’s delivery had gone undrunk.

“Hmph! Hot face won’t touch cold butt!” Jing Hengbo lifted her chin and carried the soup away.

Yong Xue looked strangely at her retreating figure – Huh? Haven’t you always been putting your hot face to his cold butt, quite happily too?

…

Gong Yin buried himself in memorials again, this time not even lighting lamps in the study.

Meng Hu and Yu Chun could only stand in darkness, not daring to breathe heavily. Meng Hu especially didn’t dare hint about dinner matters like yesterday at Jing Hengbo’s place.

Yet continuous fragrant aromas drifted over. Both men tensed, knowing that normally the neighboring kitchen was too far for aromas to carry over – unless the Queen was again parading around with soup.

Meng Hu’s scalp prickled as he secretly prayed Her Majesty would have a change of heart and bring soup to the State Preceptor, resolving the low pressure in the room.

But judging from the persistence and approach speed of the aroma, something seemed problematic.

Meng Hu stole a glance at Gong Yin.

He was concentrating on memorials, face slightly turned, handsome features showing no change, as if smelling nothing.

Meng Hu shifted slightly and peeked outside, seeing the noble Queen pacing with soup by the door.

…

Jing Hengbo had already walked back and forth three times by the side door.

She wondered curiously – clearly the door was unlocked, the palace road was close, the aroma was penetrating, and the timing was right. Yesterday Yelu Qi could snatch the soup, so why wasn’t he coming today?

If he didn’t come, she couldn’t sell this bowl of codonopsis, astragalus, old duck, and heavenly silk powder stew. Wouldn’t that be casting flirtatious glances at a blind man?

She wanted to see what soft-bodied creature Yelu Qi would look like.

If he still didn’t come, what should she do? Should she just open the door and go over there?

…

Meng Hu groaned inwardly.

Her Majesty was too good at provoking people.

Actually continuing to bring soup and lingering endlessly. Of course she didn’t know that last night, Zhaomin Public Office had been strictly guarded, making it difficult for State Preceptor Yelu to come out.

This aroma was so destructive, parading endlessly under Master’s nose like this – was she finding life too peaceful?

The State Preceptor sat motionless like a statue submerged in light and shadow, looking increasingly alarming.

Just as Meng Hu was thinking of sneaking out to persuade the Queen away, Gong Yin suddenly slapped his memorial on the desk. The paper hitting the pear wood surface made a sharp sound, startling both men.

Then Gong Yin suddenly stood and walked out without hesitation.

Direction: the side door.

…

Jing Hengbo stopped after her third round, ultimately unwilling to abandon her plan. Carrying the soup, she kicked open the side door.

Suddenly a hand reached from behind her, taking the jar.

This action was identical to yesterday’s. Jing Hengbo was delighted, thinking Yelu Qi had ambushed again, when she suddenly realized the direction seemed wrong.

She turned around somewhat dazedly.

She saw Gong Yin in the dim light, like distant green bamboo and mountains.

Gong Yin held the soup bowl, eyebrows raised, looking at her with frost and snow between his brows.

“Wanted to send this over?” he asked.

Jing Hengbo thought about it – yes, that was right. She nodded.

“Wanted to give it to him to drink?” His expression seemed more somber, though his tone remained calm.

Jing Hengbo nodded again.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” He suddenly changed topics.

Such a jumping topic, yet Jing Hengbo actually followed it, because a surge of anger suddenly rose and she couldn’t help venting.

“Ah ah ah you’re a paralyzed face who always opposes me! Iceberg! Aloof emperor! Show-off…”

“You’re right.” He raised the soup, toasting her with it. “I always oppose you.”

He lifted the bowl, drank two mouthfuls, then casually threw it. The porcelain bowl shattered on the ground, soup splashing everywhere.

Then he said nothing and gracefully turned to leave.

Leaving behind Jing Hengbo, stunned speechless by this sudden action.

Only when Gong Yin’s satisfied silhouette disappeared into the neighboring study did the awakened Jing Hengbo let out a frantic scream.

“Ah ah ah you drank the wrong one!”

…

That night Jing Hengbo couldn’t sleep.

She kept tossing and turning in bed, her mind filled with the scene of Gong Yin drinking soup like a toast.

That scene was so sudden and shocking, overturning her understanding of Gong Yin, that she hadn’t reacted at all at the time. Thinking back now, she felt angry, wanted to laugh, yet felt uneasy.

Why did Gong Yin run over to snatch soup for no reason? Was he upset about Yelu Qi’s behavior yesterday and learning from him?

No, he wouldn’t deign to imitate anyone.

Simply opposing her? Whoever she sent things to, he wouldn’t let them drink it?

Could he be so childish? Had his IQ regressed?

But thinking about it, God Gong’s IQ was sky-high, but his EQ wasn’t necessarily superior, right? This clearly belonged to the EQ category.

Sigh! Whether IQ or EQ, the most important problem now was that he’d drunk the doctored soup!

Now… what was the situation?

Soft-bodied creature Yelu Qi would be worth anticipating, but soft-bodied creature Gong Yin… something felt strange.

Besides, with Gong Yin’s personality, even if affected, he wouldn’t tell anyone. If he collapsed in bed… would Dahuang rebel?

Jing Hengbo felt she wasn’t worried about Dahuang rebelling at all, but inexplicably she got up.

Throwing a cloak over her nightgown and putting on soft-soled slippers, she tiptoed outside.

No one slept in her chambers, and the night-duty palace maids outside were dozing. Jing Hengbo freely walked to the side door connecting to Jing Ting.

With no one disturbing her journey, she felt cheerful.

Of course she didn’t know that the moment she stepped out of her bedroom, countless people in her palace compound and the neighboring one made countless inquiring gestures.

“Queen leaving chambers.”

“Observe carefully.”

“Heading toward Jing Ting.”

“Cancel observation.”

“Queen opening side door to Jing Ting.”

“Excellent, withdraw secret sentries, remove hidden locks. Make no sound, don’t disturb the Queen, kill all birds and insects that might call, ensure the Queen successfully enters the State Preceptor’s bedroom.”

“Queen successfully reaches study.”

“Queen successfully reaches front courtyard.”

“Queen successfully reaches… State Preceptor’s bedroom.”

“Mission accomplished! Return to posts!”

…

Gong Yin’s bedroom was in Jing Ting’s southwest corner, connected to the study through a corridor.

All of Jing Ting was quiet without any lamplight, only pearls embedded at corridor corners for illumination. The light was cold and white, like Gong Yin himself – untouched by earthly concerns, both low-key and luxurious.

Jing Hengbo naturally noticed encountering no guards along the way, but being too lazy to think deeply, no interference was better.

She’d inquired about Gong Yin’s bedroom location beforehand and heard that like her, he didn’t want people keeping night watch inside or outside his room. But when she stood at the corridor’s end, she was still dumbfounded.

Where was the door?

Before her was a wall – white stone surface with jade-like texture. The stone wall had either naturally formed or carved mountain-water images with bold, powerful brushstrokes. Stone cracks and folds naturally formed rivers and mountains – very distinctive and impressive.

This should be the door, apparently with mechanisms and passwords.

Perhaps this was why Gong Yin needed no guards – this door looked as difficult as him.

Jing Hengbo could of course pass through without problem, but her curiosity was strong and she couldn’t help studying it while supporting her chin.

Then she discovered words on the door panel. The words seemed hollow, but touching them revealed they weren’t hollow but movable – each character could be shifted.

“日好纵长深横水景乘还媚啭莺更日阔浪风初波”

A jumbled line of characters with unclear meaning. After studying for a while, counting the characters, Jing Hengbo felt they were scrambled poetry that needed arranging by rhyme and meter. Once properly arranged, the door would open. Naturally this was beyond her capabilities.

But this arrangement gave her a strange feeling, as if seeing something very familiar.

After thinking and shaking her head, not wanting to waste time here, she flashed and entered inside.

First impression: so big.

Gong Yin’s bedroom was so vast she couldn’t see the end – spacious as a great hall, spanning several zhang in length and width.

Second impression: so white.

The bedroom was entirely white – white walls, white stone floors. Even beds, tables, and chairs were white, pure as a snow cave.

Third impression: so cold.

Completely unlike Jing Ting’s ordinary study, Gong Yin’s bedroom was very cold – at least ten degrees lower than outside temperature. It didn’t feel gloomy and chilly, just mountain snow-like coldness.

After looking around, Jing Hengbo discovered that at the hall’s far end was a single irregular white stone, faintly glowing with scattered white light, emanating pale white breath. The entire bedroom’s coldness came from there.

Gong Yin’s bed was below the white stone, hung with snow-white curtains, graceful as an immortal’s couch.

Jing Hengbo pursed her lips, disdaining someone’s constant pretension of grandeur.

She looked around for quite a while, calmly waiting for Gong Yin’s questioning. Normally, when she approached his bedroom, he should know.

No sound – the hall felt like it contained no human presence, as if empty.

Jing Hengbo suddenly felt eerie, stroking her raised arm hair. Could Gong Yin not sleep here? Was this an empty hall? Would a white-haired zombie sit up from behind the curtains like in tomb-raiding novels…

“Holy shit!” Scared by her own imagination, Jing Hengbo had to make noise herself: “Hey, Gong Yin, sister’s here to inspect you. Get up and welcome me!”

Her voice crashed against the empty hall’s echoes: “welcome me welcome me welcome me…”

Still no answer.

“Damn, did the heavenly silk powder knock him out?” Jing Hengbo felt something was wrong. She wanted to leave but was worried. Though Gong Yin often bullied her, and she was happy to see him suffer from drinking the doctored soup himself, if Gong Yin really had problems from the doctored duck soup, her troubles would be enormous.

“Oh oh oh, being shy…” She changed expressions, rubbing her hands with a lewd smile approaching: “Gong baby, Gong darling, Gong little white, Gong Yinyin, little Yinyin, little darling… say something, sister’s here to see you… if you don’t speak, sister’s climbing into your bed…”

While spouting nonsense, she quietly approached. She didn’t believe Gong Yin could tolerate hearing such words, whatever schemes he had. With his nature, he’d definitely push her away with cold arrogance.

Sure enough, there was movement.

Layers of silk curtains nearby suddenly flew up, and something white came whirling and rotating toward Jing Hengbo’s face. She quickly dropped flat as it brushed over her hair and shattered with a crash on the ground.

Looking back, Jing Hengbo saw it was a porcelain pillow.

Was this telling her not to approach?

Jing Hengbo turned to leave.

She’d only come to check if he was alright, afraid something happened. Since he had strength to throw pillows, he was obviously fine. Why should she stay? To stare at each other and argue?

She was still angry from today!

Turning around, her steps too quick, she suddenly stepped on porcelain shards. The pieces were smooth-surfaced, the white stone beneath also very slippery. This step made Jing Hengbo lean backward and slide out!

“Bang” – she fell backward onto Gong Yin’s bed, her lower back painfully jabbed. Layers of white gauze fell down, covering her face.

“Ptui ptui ptui.” Jing Hengbo clawed away gauze that fell in her mouth, waving away obstacles before her eyes. Trying to get up with “ow ow” sounds, her back really hurt badly, so she maintained her position, turning her neck while lying backward.

Then she felt something unusual beneath her neck.

Then her eyes widened.

Then she froze.

Then… the entire bedroom seemed to freeze instantly.