◎”She doesn’t fear the fire burning her body, but I fear she… will be reborn from the flames.”◎

At the Eastern Palace, as Yu Qingwu’s final words fell, the Grand Heir’s face instantly turned deathly pale. He shot to his feet, knocking over the chessboard and pieces before them.

But he couldn’t care about any of that, rushing frantically outside and calling loudly, “Yuanniang—A’Li, A’Man!”

His voice was terrified to the extreme, reminding Yu Qingwu of what Nanny Qian had said before: “As if Wu Qingchuan had died.”

As if in mourning for a parent.

Yu Qingwu’s expression grew even more grave.

Just from speculating in front of the Grand Heir, he had already reacted this way. If Prince Qi truly made a move against the Grand Heir’s consort, the Eastern Palace would likely suffer tremendous damage.

Outside, the Grand Heir’s consort was in the east wing reviewing account books. Hearing this, she rushed out anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

The Grand Heir’s health was already poor. After shouting so loudly, he immediately became short of breath and couldn’t speak at all. He leaned against a pillar, his breathing unstable, frightening the Grand Heir’s consort so much that she hurried over in two steps instead of three. “A’Hu! What on earth happened?”

The Grand Heir managed to speak with difficulty: “Where are the children?”

Grand Heir’s consort: “They’re sleeping.”

She also called for the wet nurse to confirm everything was safe before the Grand Heir finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The Grand Heir’s consort remained uneasy, quickly helping him inside to sit down. She frowned at Yu Qingwu. “What did Minister Yu say to the Grand Heir?”

Yu Qingwu had already picked up the scattered chessboard and pieces from the floor. He said respectfully, “I merely reminded the Grand Heir that Prince Qi’s methods have always been sinister—he’s capable of anything. This time we’ve pressed him until he can’t breathe, and he’s lost His Majesty’s favor, so he will certainly retaliate.”

“Based on his methods this time, he seems to enjoy instigating conflict between the Grand Heir and His Majesty. Perhaps next time will be the same. So I speculated—might he directly use His Majesty’s hidden pawns to harm the Grand Heir’s consort and the two young highnesses? This would make the Grand Heir resent His Majesty. Once the Grand Heir misspoke, all previous efforts would be wasted.”

The Grand Heir’s consort remembered what Lan Shanjun had told her before and understood. “Shanjun thought of this, didn’t she?”

Yu Qingwu nodded.

The Grand Heir was surprised. “Minister Yu’s wife said this?”

Grand Heir’s consort: “Shanjun told me before that Prince Qi might target me.”

So that was it. The Grand Heir felt reassured. “In that case, I’ll quietly investigate thoroughly.”

He had thought Yu Qingwu had received some intelligence.

The Grand Heir’s consort smiled. “When Shanjun mentioned it last time, I already investigated once.”

But being extra careful couldn’t hurt—investigating again would be fine.

Seeing there was no further issue, she didn’t stay longer but smiled at Yu Qingwu. “These past few days the Grand Heir has been in good spirits, able to eat three bowls of rice per meal. Today you’ve frightened him—I estimate he won’t be able to eat a single bite now.”

The Grand Heir smiled helplessly. Yu Qingwu bowed his head respectfully. When he sat down to play chess with the Grand Heir again, he was unusually distracted.

From yesterday until now, he had actually been harboring a question in his heart.

Shanjun was so intelligent—Shanjun was the most intelligent person in the world.

Yet when she spoke of worrying that the Grand Heir’s consort might be harmed by Prince Qi, she hadn’t mentioned the young Imperial Grandson or young Princess at all.

From the very beginning, she seemed to believe that if Prince Qi were to harm anyone, he would only harm the Grand Heir’s consort.

This wasn’t quite like Shanjun’s character.

He observed Shanjun daily, just as in his youth he had scrutinized court affairs—in minute detail, wanting to know everything, fearing that insufficient or imprecise knowledge might lead to errors that would cost him his pallet bed.

So from which comb Shanjun preferred using in the morning to which hairpin she liked removing first from her hair bun in the evening—he knew it all clearly.

He had already become familiar with her way of doing things without realizing it.

He knew that when Shanjun thought about matters, she liked to be exhaustively detailed, and loved placing people and events with little or even no connection together in her considerations.

He had once wondered why she had this habit, and also knew this trait was deeply ingrained in her, unchanged to this day.

Then she couldn’t possibly have overlooked the possibility that Prince Qi might also murder the Imperial Grandson and Princess when considering Prince Qi and Eastern Palace affairs.

Shanjun… seemed more like she had determined from the start the outcome that Prince Qi would harm the Grand Heir’s consort, then continuously deduced the reasons.

Yu Qingwu took a deep breath and placed today’s suspicions together with his previous suspicions about Shanjun.

Dian Tianguang, Song Zhiwei, the Grand Heir’s consort… there should be a reason that could connect them all.

This should be Shanjun’s greatest secret.

When Yu Qingwu returned to the Court of Imperial Stud, Gonglin came over to deliver the roster of Court of Imperial Stud officials from various regions. Seeing his poor complexion, Gonglin advised, “No one’s body is made of iron. Junior Minister Yu, you must take care of yourself.”

Yu Qingwu smiled slightly, saying gently, “I’m fine.”

Gonglin, true to his wastrel nature, brought his unique perspective even to consoling others, saying in a low voice, “Don’t push yourself too hard. If you’re tired, you must rest properly—otherwise you’ll quickly become… unable! This would be counterproductive—how would your wife view you then?”

Yu Qingwu, being a man himself, understood his meaning almost instantly. His face immediately darkened. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

Gonglin: “I’m just advising you.”

But he had heard that Minister Yu’s wife remained childless. He earnestly counseled, “For upstanding men like us, we can’t shirk responsibility like those pedantic people. From what I know, if you’re too busy and your health deteriorates, it’s also difficult for a woman to conceive.”

“So you see, whether a man is capable or not is very important—it relates to continuing the family line. Minister Yu, you absolutely must not exhaust yourself.”

This was getting more and more outrageous! Yu Qingwu hurriedly sent him away. “This is a government office—why are you talking about such things?”

But when it was time to leave for the day, after hesitating for a moment, he returned home early.

Nanny Qian was biting into a newly grown radish. “Oh my, Young Master Yu, you’re home early today.”

Yu Qingwu stood there awkwardly: “Do I usually return very late?”

Nanny Qian: “Naturally. At least not as early as today.”

Lan Shanjun happened to walk out, smiling. “The Court of Imperial Stud is very busy—it’s already quite good that he can come home at all.”

Yu Qingwu felt very ashamed. He shamefully lowered his head, shamefully reached for a radish from the basket, shamefully took a bite, and just as he was shamefully swallowing, he saw Nanny Qian making eyes at him.

Yu Qingwu tilted his head, looking over in confusion.

Nanny Qian: “Young Master Yu, eating raw radishes will make you pass gas in the evening. This old woman doesn’t mind being alone—”

Yu Qingwu hurriedly spat it out.

Lan Shanjun couldn’t help but laugh. “Nanny Qian is teasing you.”

Yu Qingwu’s face grew even redder.

But Lan Shanjun had actual business waiting for him. She pulled him aside to ask, “Did you speak with the Grand Heir?”

Yu Qingwu nodded.

Only then did Lan Shanjun feel at ease. They should at least be on guard.

She also mentioned Minister Zhu’s promotion. “Yuннiang has invited us to a banquet.”

The former Vice Minister of Justice had been implicated in the Court of Imperial Stud war horses case, creating a vacancy. Minister Zhu had filled it and was now Vice Minister of Justice.

Yu Qingwu lowered his head and murmured agreement, his face still flushed.

Lan Shanjun looked at him and smiled. “Wu Qingchuan also had someone send an invitation—he’s celebrating his birthday.”

Yu Qingwu was taken aback. Wu Qingchuan’s birthday was indeed approaching. Previously he would always prepare a gift, but this year there was no need.

He said sarcastically, “He still sent me an invitation—how conscientious of him.”

Lan Shanjun: “Now that Prince Qi has been suppressed, of course he also wants to ease relations with you.”

Once a person fell into the trap of weighing pros and cons, they thought only of weighing pros and cons in everything, so nothing they did was strange.

But the more he was like this, the more Yu Qingwu hated him.

Yu Qingwu: “I’m afraid he thinks that eventually I’ll consider elder brother’s death unimportant. Just as he has ‘gotten over it.'”

Lan Shanjun said, “So I tore up the invitation, packaged the pieces nicely, and sent them back along with a bottle of aphrodisiac medicine as a birthday gift.”

Yu Qingwu nearly choked on his own saliva. He stopped being angry and kept coughing. “What did you send him?”

Lan Shanjun hesitated for a moment but still reached out to gently pat his back to help him breathe, saying in a low voice, “Prince Qi sent him several concubines as congratulatory gifts.”

Yu Qingwu understood. He had been busy with Wang Deyi and the horse plague matters lately and hadn’t heard about this.

Then his face grew somewhat hot. “Given his temperament, receiving your birthday gift will probably make him furious.”

Lan Shanjun scoffed. “A fifteen-year-old concubine—he has the nerve to accept it.”

Yu Qingwu joined in cursing a few times. “Good thing you sent it… to humiliate him.”

But before long, he couldn’t help but lower his head and discreetly glance at his lower body.

Should be fine, right?

By evening, lying on his pallet bed, he tossed and turned sleeplessly, feeling uncomfortable in his private areas.

After all, he wasn’t a holy monk. When encountering some suggestive words, he would suffer in the evening.

He endured it rigidly like this, not daring to make a sound or move, trying hard to think of nothing.

But the more you fear something, the more it comes. Lan Shanjun carried the blue-and-white porcelain lamp to the archway and called softly, “Yu Qingwu.”

Yu Qingwu was startled and delivered a crisp slap to his own face.

Hearing this, Lan Shanjun asked in surprise, “What happened?”

Yu Qingwu’s face was pale as a sheet: “There was a mosquito.”

Lan Shanjun: “It’s already late September—are there still mosquitoes?”

Yu Qingwu said dully: “Yes.”

He climbed up with difficulty, wrapping himself in a quilt as he came over. “Shanjun, is there something you need?”

Lan Shanjun had initially wanted to discuss the Grand Heir’s consort, but seeing him bundled in the quilt, wrapping himself so only his head was visible, she gasped. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yu Qingwu: “I’m a bit cold.”

Lan Shanjun was puzzled. “Cold?”

Yu Qingwu: “Yes.”

He lowered his head, not daring to let her lamp illuminate the awkwardness on his face.

He sat down again, retracting even half his head into the quilt. He said, “I’m fine. You were saying—”

Before he could finish speaking, he saw her hand reach over, accompanied by her leaning figure, and press against his forehead just like that.

Yu Qingwu should have refused. When she reached out, he could have refused. But his head couldn’t help but lower first, pressing properly against her hand.

Being so close, their two shadows intertwined together. He couldn’t help but think—shadows follow people, and could also be considered a person’s other self.

So he shifted his body slightly, imperceptibly making the shadows on the ground entangle more deeply and tightly.

But after Shanjun’s hand withdrew, an even greater sense of loss arose in his heart, vast and empty.

Lan Shanjun: “You don’t feel feverish. I’ll go pour you some hot water.”

Yu Qingwu watched her busying herself for him and sighed deeply. “Shanjun, don’t be so good to me.”

Lan Shanjun said with amusement, “This counts as being good?”

Yu Qingwu didn’t dare say more. He tested the waters ambiguously: “Later… after we truly settle matters with Prince Qi… what will I do alone? Even if I have a fever, there will be no one to care.”

Lan Shanjun handed him the teacup: “That is indeed true.”

That is indeed true… So she really was planning to leave.

Yu Qingwu knew she was this kind of person—heartlessly so. Like radishes in a vegetable patch—once pulled out, never mind if the soil was left with an unfillable hole.

But he also felt his hole was truly an insatiable abyss—couldn’t really blame Shanjun for it.

For the first time, he felt resentful, yet when he spoke, he remained a refined gentleman, not even daring to change his tone, fearing she might notice even a trace: “Where will you go then?”

But Lan Shanjun thought of Zhu Yun and Su Hexiang. One wanted to control floods, the other wanted to practice medicine.

If she cast aside these hatreds, what would she want to do?

But she truly couldn’t think of anything. She said, “I still want to return to Huailing to guard the old monk’s grave. However long I can live, I’ll guard it for him.”

She murmured, “This lifetime of mine… I owe it all to him that I could return to Luoyang. If I can avenge this great grievance, spending the rest of my life on the mountain will be enough.”

But Yu Qingwu’s hand gripping the quilt tightened.

The next morning he rose early and wrote three characters in his journal: Return to Luoyang.

Why “return”?

The mysteries in his heart grew larger and larger, the thoughts in his mind more and more numerous. Unable to solve them, he simply went to chop firewood.

Nanny Qian laughed with a sound of surprise. “Minister Yu, playing the snail again!”

Yu Qingwu stopped to wipe his sweat. “Nanny Qian, how can I see inside a snail shell?”

Nanny Qian peeled corn while smiling. “You’d definitely have to hook out the meat inside.”

Hooking it out still wasn’t enough. “You’d also need to light a lamp and look closely—otherwise how could you see clearly what’s inside? Snail shells wind round and round—at least two turns.”

Yu Qingwu: “But I don’t want to take the snail meat out—”

Nanny Qian: “Then what can you do? You simply can’t see it!”

Scholars just loved thinking about these strange things all day.

Yu Qingwu deliberated further. “If I absolutely must take it out… how would I do it?”

Nanny Qian peeled the last section of corn: “First boil it, then use a bamboo skewer to pick it out. Using a needle works too.”

Yu Qingwu was greatly alarmed: “Won’t that hurt the snail?”

Nanny Qian raised her head in disbelief: “…”

She respectfully smacked him on the head with the corncob. “Young Master Yu, there’s something wrong with you!”

Teasing an old woman so early in the morning!

She scolded, “I wouldn’t let you eat radish yesterday, so you’re taking revenge on me!”

So that morning, all the corn kernels fried with eggs over noodles went to Lan Shanjun.

Yu Qingwu only got plain water noodles.

In mid-October, Su Hexiang returned to Luoyang. Lan Shanjun took her to meet the Grand Heir’s consort, asking her to check the Grand Heir’s consort’s pulse.

Yu Qingwu saw this and asked her thoughtfully, “You think Prince Qi will use poison?”

Lan Shanjun: “It’s not impossible.”

She didn’t trust the imperial physicians in the palace, so she wanted to have Su Hexiang try.

She smiled in explanation: “For women’s illnesses, female doctors understand them better.”

But Yu Qingwu, observing her expression and based on his understanding of her, discovered that her tone still predetermined the outcome that the Grand Heir’s consort would die before making all these current speculations.

She hadn’t worried the Grand Heir’s consort might die in a fire or by drowning. She seemed only concerned the Grand Heir’s consort would die of a serious illness.

Or rather, a sudden illness.

Shanjun was too anxious—she was desperate to save the Grand Heir’s consort.

She was certain the Grand Heir’s consort would die.

Why would she have such thoughts?

Yu Qingwu’s heart slowly sank, sinking to the bottom.

But Lan Shanjun hadn’t noticed at all. She kept looking ahead and never looked back at him.

Because of her anxiety, even her nighttime nightmares increased.

She woke startled more and more frequently.

But Yu Qingwu didn’t dare enter the inner chamber to comfort her when she woke. He could only pretend to be asleep, as if he had never awakened.

Yet the next morning, he would still go in to change her candles.

He would see the tears on her face not yet dried, see the bruises in her palms from clenching them in her dreams.

But he could do nothing.

He tiptoed out and stood under the eaves looking at the sky.

Shanjun loved looking at the sky.

She had said, “The old monk used to love taking me to stand under the eaves watching the birds fly in the sky.”

But she hadn’t looked up at the sky in a very long time.

Yu Qingwu wrote obscurely in his journal: “From the moment the mountain sage first entered the forest, it seemed there was some destiny.”

She said he was the embers remaining from that great fire of the thirty-first year of Yuanshao, but observing her, she seemed more like an obsession that fire could never burn away.

“Ultimately where this destiny lies, I do not know. I only know the mountain sage does not accept fate and still walks against the fire…”

His heart trembled as he wrote with difficulty: “She doesn’t fear the fire burning her body, but I fear she… will be reborn from the flames.”

His gaze turned to the strange tales and anecdotes he had bought recently.

This kind of reliving a life, knowing past events, wanting to save people—it wasn’t rare in the strange tales.

But stories were stories precisely because they were absurd and preposterous.

He too was preposterous enough to actually have such thoughts.

“I know my thoughts are absurd, my notions preposterous…”

“I know there are no ghosts or spirits in this world. I also don’t fear ghosts and spirits. I only fear my thoughts and notions… what I imagine becoming true.”

“I only fear… I only fear she once fell into hell, unable to see daylight.”

He dropped his brush, placing it back with trembling hands.

The cold wind pierced to the bone. A gust blew over, scattering the journal pages on the desk. He hurried to gather them. As he bent to pick up the papers, the speculations written on them came into view.

Ten years, Grand Heir’s consort, Song Zhiwei, suspects I am an old acquaintance, Wu Qingchuan…

When he picked up the last sheet and saw the four characters “reborn from flames,” his eyes stung. His already bent back slowly collapsed, and he crouched on the ground for a long time, unable to rise.

It was snowing.

Blown by the wind and snow, he regained some clarity. He quickly gathered his journal back to the desk, took up his brush, and wrote devoutly: “May my thoughts not prove true, may my imaginings not become prophecy.”

But prophecies coming true were truly not empty words spoken by the ancients.

On the eighth day of the twelfth month in the forty-ninth year of Yuanshao, a eunuch from the Eastern Palace brought word that the Grand Heir’s consort had fallen to sudden illness and was unconscious.

Lan Shanjun’s legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground.

Yu Qingwu hurried to support her.

The young eunuch came to invite them into the palace, crying, “The Eastern Palace is in complete chaos. The Grand Heir has sent for Miss Su and ordered this servant to invite you both.”

But Lan Shanjun seemed not to hear, her ears ringing continuously. Then she murmured in a lost voice, “It still happened…”

Yu Qingwu supported her, standing so close—how could he not hear?

If this were before, this would be just the simplest of sentences. But now, every sentence she spoke would be recorded in his heart for contemplation.

That preposterous notion in his heart swept through his entire body again, making his eyes burn hot, tears nearly falling.

His tears did fall, dropping straight onto Lan Shanjun’s hand.

In winter, tears were too hot and thus especially scalding.

Lan Shanjun’s hand was scalded back to her senses. Seeing his appearance and thinking he was worried about the Grand Heir’s consort, her rationality returned somewhat and she calmed down again.

She consoled him: “She should be fine. Don’t panic.”

Yu Qingwu lowered his head, choking up: “All right.”

The young eunuch found it very strange. Minister Yu’s wife wasn’t crying, but Minister Yu, such a stalwart man, was crying.

It seemed he truly cared about the Eastern Palace—a most loyal minister of the first rank.

But Lan Shanjun had no time to comfort him further. She only asked the young eunuch, “Have they determined what illness the Grand Heir’s consort has?”

Young eunuch: “It seems to be a cold. She fell ill as soon as the weather turned cold.”

He wiped his tears. “This cursed weather—this year’s wind and snow are still too severe.”

——

At the Eastern Palace, all the servants knelt in the wind and snow, not daring to make a sound. Several couldn’t help but weep—without asking anyone, everyone knew what fate awaited them.

That they might still be alive tomorrow would be heaven’s mercy.

People were continuously dragged away for interrogation, screams coming one after another. Several imperial physicians examined everything the Grand Heir’s consort had used and eaten in the room but could find no cause, cold sweat constantly beading on their foreheads.

The Grand Heir sat pale-faced to one side, not looking at them, only asking Su Hexiang, “How is it?”

Su Hexiang frowned. “I’ve already induced vomiting of everything she ate and administered medicine, but she still won’t wake. It appears she’s been poisoned, injuring her internal organs.”

Grand Heir: “Poisoned?”

Su Hexiang nodded. “Yes.”

But only she dared speak so directly.

The several imperial physicians outside looked at each other—none dared echo these two words.

In a place like the Eastern Palace, if the Grand Heir’s consort was truly poisoned, then none of them should expect to live.

Just then, the Emperor arrived.

Despite his body’s chill, he asked with concern, “What happened? Liu Guan said Yuanniang fell suddenly ill? What sudden illness? I was truly worried all the way here.”

The Grand Heir’s surface composure couldn’t match his after all. At this moment, he couldn’t put on a tearful display of weakness, couldn’t produce any other expression for acting, and even more couldn’t speak a single sentence.

He seemed sustained by only a single breath. Trembling, he knelt before the Emperor and said shakily, “Poisoned.”

The Emperor’s hand paused. He looked at the imperial physicians. “Who diagnosed this? What poison?”

Chen Yuanzhen, the head of the Imperial Medical Bureau, came forward trembling with fear, saying carefully, “We… have not yet confirmed the Grand Heir’s consort was poisoned.”

The Emperor frowned. “Then who said so?”

Su Hexiang bowed in salute. “It was I.”

Emperor: “Whose family’s daughter are you?”

Su Hexiang: “The late Minister of the Court of Imperial Stud, Su Huairen, was my grandfather.”

The Emperor remembered.

Su Huairen had died not long ago—he still remembered the Su family matter.

He looked at Yuanniang lying lifeless on the bed, then at Su Hexiang, narrowing his eyes. “You’re still young—your medical skills may have gaps. Do you dare guarantee the Grand Heir’s consort was poisoned?”

Su Hexiang showed no fear whatsoever. “I don’t understand other things—I only understand healing people. Poison is poison—it cannot be concealed from others. Since I’ve said it, I dare acknowledge it. If I truly misdiagnosed, then my skills are insufficient, and I’m willing to accept punishment.”

These words actually made the Emperor regard her with new respect.

He didn’t ask further but instead asked, “When can she wake?”

Su Hexiang shook her head: “I don’t know.”

The imperial physicians were more experienced. Though they didn’t dare say it was poison, they could say other things: “If she wakes before noon tomorrow, she’ll be fine.”

Grand Heir: “What if she doesn’t wake before noon tomorrow?”

The imperial physician dropped to the ground with a thud. “In reply to the Grand Heir… then there will be mortal danger.”

The Emperor kicked him. “Mortal danger? If the Grand Heir’s consort has even the slightest problem, I’ll exterminate your nine familial relations!”

He flew into a great rage and ordered people to investigate: “I want to see who dares poison someone in the palace!”

The Grand Heir knelt to one side, knowing what truly enraged him was that poison could be administered in the Eastern Palace.

He remembered what Yu Qingwu had said before.

He had said: “I fear Prince Qi will act through His Majesty’s pawns.”

Could it be so?

In this Eastern Palace, even after such thorough investigation, there were still the Emperor’s minions? How many more were there?

Lan Shanjun and Yu Qingwu arrived at this moment.

The Emperor frowned: “Why summon them?”

Grand Heir: “Your grandson heard Yu Qingwu say he had studied medicine. In desperation, I had people summon them to the palace. And Minister Yu’s wife is also Teacher to A’Man. With Yuanniang in trouble and the children worried, your grandson has no time to attend to them, so I can only have Minister Yu’s wife watch over them.”

Emperor: “You certainly trust this couple.”

But at such a time, he didn’t say much more. Instead, he reminisced about Yuanniang’s good qualities from before. “This girl has been audaciously brave since childhood. She must get better.”

When Lan Shanjun entered the room, these were the words she heard.

This was an elder’s loving care for a junior. From the tone alone, not the slightest thing seemed amiss.

Yet it was this very person who, after the Grand Heir’s consort’s death, began to despise the Grand Heir and never vindicated the Grand Heir’s consort’s death.

【Author’s Note】

I’m really exhausted from diarrhea—only wrote three thousand characters today, with three thousand more from yesterday!

Damn, I’ll post another update tomorrow at noon at twelve o’clock. I’m going to sleep first, feeling dizzy and woozy. Good night, good night.

Yuanniang is fine, no need to worry.