Lying?

Xuanyuan Lige denied it immediately. “Mother, this child wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t dare? What exactly wouldn’t you dare do? You even dared let someone like Han Ziqing go free once—what else wouldn’t you dare do?” the Empress said with a cold laugh, tilting Xuanyuan Lige’s chin further upward.

Xuanyuan Lige’s expression remained unreadable. “I never expected she would turn out to be the kind of person she is.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Li’er, don’t you dare tell your mother that any woman Jun Beiyue has taken a fancy to could possibly be simple,” the Empress said with another laugh.

At these words, a sudden chill flashed through Xuanyuan Lige’s eyes. At that very moment, Great Zhou’s Seventh Prince, Jun Beiyao, slowly emerged from nearby, dressed in an elaborately refined blue robe that concealed his inborn princely dignity beneath an air of polished sophistication. He looked at Xuanyuan Lige, his lips curling into a sly, cold smile.

He hated him—hated Xuanyuan Lige’s soft-heartedness back then, hated his warnings!

For the rest of his life, unless he died, he would either marry Han Ziqing or kill her—whatever means it took, he would avenge this humiliation he’d suffered!

What more could Xuanyuan Lige possibly explain? Jun Beiyao would tell their mother everything, whether it needed to be said or not!

Suddenly, without warning, a sharp crack rang out—the Empress of Eastern Qin had slapped Xuanyuan Lige hard across the face, the force sending him stumbling back several steps, his pale face immediately swelling on one side!

“So you’ve grown bold enough to hide so much from me! Even though you saved her from Zhaoxi’s hands back then, you had plenty of other opportunities to kill her afterward! Xuanyuan Lige, everything I taught you as a child—have you thrown it all to the wind? You’ve disappointed me greatly!”

The Empress pointed directly at Xuanyuan Lige, her phoenix eyes sharp and merciless, her expression utterly severe!

“Speak! What did I teach you as a child!” she demanded coldly, insisting on an answer!

“Mother, send him out first,” Xuanyuan Lige said flatly.

“No need! Let me tell you—from this moment forward, the Seventh Prince is under my protection!” the Empress said coldly. “Tell me, what did I teach you as a child!”

Xuanyuan Lige remained silent for a long while before finally speaking. “Lige’s life is short—there’s no time to waste. When facing an enemy, kill without hesitation, leave no way back.”

At these words, Jun Beiyao was struck with sudden shock—short life? So this man, who took medicine constantly, truly was gravely ill?

Short life—but exactly how short?

He didn’t dare ask. He now wished more than ever that Xuanyuan Lige would die soon, because he understood clearly—if Xuanyuan Lige hadn’t moved against Han Ziqing before, he certainly wouldn’t do so now either!

“Very good, I’m glad you still remember. Is Han Ziqing an enemy?” the Empress demanded pointedly!

Xuanyuan Lige fell silent once more. The Empress waited patiently—she understood her own son better than anyone. As long as she berated him until he had nothing left to say, he would submit, would stop resisting.

But unexpectedly, after a long silence, Xuanyuan Lige suddenly lifted his head, his cold face utterly expressionless, yet the words that came from his mouth sent the Empress into a fit of rage.

He said, “Han Ziqing is my friend.”

He admired her talent with the qin, admired her clear-cut way of loving and hating without ambiguity, liked… liked how she maintained a stern, serious expression in front of others, yet would secretly break into foolish, delighted smiles when alone.

Yet none of this was truly what made this woman so fatally compelling to him.

It was that time in the innocent, deep ravine, when he had played “Battle Cry” to rally the three armies before their great battle, only to watch them suffer defeat, snapping a string on his demonic zither.

In that moment, he had seen genuine heartache in that woman’s eyes!

In that moment, that woman had told him, “A general does not die; there will always be another day to fight again.”

A general who does not die will always have another chance for a greater battle!

That woman would never know—that was the first time anyone had ever felt genuine heartache on his behalf. Even the mother standing before him now had never once felt such sorrow for him.

That an Eastern Qin prince was destined to die young seemed to have become an entirely unremarkable fact, something no one found surprising, worth mourning, worth aching over—no one ever felt any sadness over it at all!

Even his own sister, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi, feared nothing more than his survival, feared him contesting the throne!

This life, clinging on for so many years, and only Han Ziqing had ever told him that friendship meant cherishing one’s own life.

Ten years of scheming, all poured into that battle at the Realm of Three Boundaries—why had he promised to teach her the entire art of the qin, teach her “Requiem of Parting” in full, once that battle concluded?

Because that battle, win or lose, would mark the end of his time in Eastern Qin!

If he lost, he wouldn’t survive long enough to continue anyway!

And if he succeeded, all his achievements would ultimately be credited to whoever eventually inherited the throne, someone who would need the loyalty of the military and the people—namely, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi!

Yet, because of Ziqing’s single remark, he had gambled once more before his mother, setting his sights on the northern Xiongnu.

He simply hadn’t expected Ziqing to struggle so intensely to play through “Requiem of Parting” in such a short time, nor had he ever imagined that Han Ziqing’s own birth mother was none other than Lady Ci.

There was a secret hidden within “Requiem of Parting” that he himself couldn’t unlock—but Ziqing surely could!

The one small comfort now was that Jun Beiyao had absolutely no knowledge of Ziqing’s true origins, knew nothing at all of the seductive fragrance’s poison, nothing of the secret hidden on her face!

Otherwise, he might well spend the rest of his life owing that woman a debt he could never repay!

If Mother ever chose to act personally, it would spell disaster for any woman in this world.

Hearing Xuanyuan Lige’s words, the Empress was stunned—such an answer was clearly far beyond anything she had anticipated.

Friend? So what if she was a friend?

“Xuanyuan Lige, then answer me this: is Great Zhou’s Princess Yao an enemy of our Eastern Qin?” the Empress pressed further.

A flicker of darkness passed instantly through Xuanyuan Lige’s eyes. Princess Yao—even she herself had said it, again and again: they were enemies.

The Empress glanced at Jun Beiyao, her lips curling with a cold edge, and said icily, “Li’er, answer me.”

“Yes.”

Xuanyuan Lige understood better than anyone that Han Ziqing served as a powerful asset to Jun Beiyue, and that the mystery surrounding her origins could very well prove to be a significant advantage for him as well.

He had already considered this back at the gates of the Ministry of Justice.

“Very good. Since you understand this clearly, this matter no longer requires your involvement going forward. You should head to the northern frontier,” the Empress said coldly.

Xuanyuan Lige said nothing, neither refusing nor agreeing, rising to withdraw.

But the Empress spoke sharply. “Answer me. Do you understand?”

Xuanyuan Lige paused slightly, forced to respond. “I understand.”

“Very good. Someone, escort the Crown Prince to the northern frontier, and report his whereabouts daily!” the Empress declared seriously.

Only then did Xuanyuan Lige slowly withdraw. The moment he left, Jun Beiyao hurried forward, fawning shamelessly. “Your Majesty, what remarkable authority you wield!”

“Seventh Prince, I despise nothing more than flattery and sycophancy. Tell me, what exactly did that totem you saw look like?” the Empress said flatly.

Could anything involving Li’er possibly escape her notice?

The Seventh Prince immediately produced a drawing of the totem he’d copied, presenting it respectfully. “This totem is one I secretly witnessed the Crown Prince personally paint. It was drawn on the roof of Han Ziqing’s carriage. I didn’t dare ask too directly, but this totem surely holds some secret! When Han Ziqing returned, I made a point of paying close attention—her carriage had actually been replaced! By all rights, the Prince Yao’s estate wouldn’t casually swap out its carriages.”

The Empress said nothing, studying the totem on the paper with a furrowed brow, sensing a faint familiarity she couldn’t quite place.

Where had Li’er gotten hold of this totem?

“Your Majesty, those guards can’t be relied upon—the Crown Prince could slip away at any moment,” Jun Beiyao said, still more concerned with Xuanyuan Lige than anything else.

The Empress merely gave a cold laugh. “He wouldn’t dare. I want to restore Eastern Qin’s glory even more than he does!”