Before Chunxue arrived at the Zhao residence, she had already sensed that something was amiss. Upon hurrying back, she happened to encounter the maidservant Zhu Yue had dispatched to the palace to request the imperial decree.
She feared that by the time a genuine decree from the Empress Dowager was secured, it would be far too late.
Merely walking from the palace gates to the Empress Dowager’s residential quarters took nearly half an hour, to say nothing of the trivial delays involved in waiting for reports, transmitting messages, and having the decree approved. Moreover, Lu Bingqiu would have reached them long before then.
Consequently, she went to the Cangsheng Pavilion, where she obtained a fake decree that was utterly indistinguishable from the real thing.
There are transactions for the daytime, and there are transactions for the dark of night.
The Cangsheng Pavilion was a place that conducted business solely under the cover of night. Those who entered were known by the elegant moniker of “seekers of life” seeking life or questioning death, capable of handling anything.
At times, even the imperial government and the imperial court were forced to afford it a wide berth. It wasn’t quite out of sheer terror, but rather because the Cangsheng Pavilion invariably possessed things they desperately desired.
Yet the rules of the Cangsheng Pavilion were bizarre: it accepted no silver, only items it deemed useful to itself. It might be a piece of jade, a common stone, or quite possibly the very life of the seeker.
In exchange, she was required to perform three tasks for the master of the Cangsheng Pavilion.
The pavilion master had not specified what those three tasks were, merely instructing her to accept the terms, promising she would be contacted when the right moment arrived.
Chunxue originally had no intention of disclosing these matters to Zhu Yue. However, Zhu Yue possessed a penetrating mind; if Chunxue said nothing, Zhu Yue would inevitably sense the anomalies.
Therefore, she spoke though she altered the three tasks demanded by the pavilion master down to just one.
Once she finished, Zhu Yue did not immediately erupt in anger. Instead, she grew deathly quiet, fixing her gaze solely upon her.
What Chunxue feared most was this exact reaction from Zhu Yue—silence, accompanied solely by that steady gaze, which left her feeling utterly unmoored.
Outside, the daylight grew brighter, and the cries of street vendors drifted inappropriately into the carriage.
Zhu Yue had previously dealt with people associated with the Cangsheng Pavilion. The Empress Dowager felt uneasy about an independent entity existing outside government authority within Yecheng, and had therefore sought to fabricate a crime to have the pavilion raided and suppressed, entrusting the task to Zhu Yue.
Zhu Yue had taken on the assignment, but failed to complete it. She discovered she could secure no leverage or handle of any kind against the Cangsheng Pavilion.
Her investigations into the master of the pavilion revealed that this person had never once shown their face, to the extent that no one yet knew who they were.
Had it merely been a matter of operating with extreme caution, it might have been passable. The most unsettling aspect was that the pavilion seemed forever capable of anticipating her next move in advance, as though spies had been planted all around her.
Ultimately, the matter yielded no results and was allowed to fade away; after all, the Cangsheng Pavilion posed no existential threat to the Empress Dowager.
Yet she never imagined Chunxue would go so far as to petition the Cangsheng Pavilion for a forged imperial decree.
To them, this was equivalent to handing another person a knife, providing a potential handle to be used against them.
Moreover, the Cangsheng Pavilion never engaged in unprofitable ventures; no matter how business was conducted, they invariably emerged with a profit.
The single task Chunxue had promised the pavilion master would not be easily accomplished.
A moment of carelessness, and it would cost her life.
Though Chunxue had been picked up by Zhu Yue from a pile of corpses, the bond between them had long since transcended the relationship of mistress and servant, existing more as a familial connection.
When Zhu Yue found her, Chunxue had been on the very verge of death, taking half a year to recover. Zhu Yue knew nothing of Chunxue’s past; Chunxue refused to speak of it, and Zhu Yue never pressed. Thus, Chunxue accompanied her willingly and joyfully, dancing and licking blood from the edges of blades side by side.
Merely realizing this filled Zhu Yue’s heart with profound guilt.
She had never spoken harshly to Chunxue, but today was the first time. She resented Chunxue for holding her own life so cheaply.
“How could you be so foolish? At worst, I simply wouldn’t have saved Xie Zi’an, and I wouldn’t have claimed the ledgers, rather than letting you take such a reckless risk!” Zhu Yue lowered her voice into an angry rebuke.
Her emotions ran too high, her breathing involuntarily growing heavier as the rims of her eyes turned red.
Chunxue offered a flat, terse reply: “Not foolish.”
Though she inwardly believed she had committed no error, she nonetheless lowered her gaze and averted her eyes.
For she dared not look into Zhu Yue’s wet, reddened eyes.
From the very day Zhu Yue pulled her out of that heap of corpses, she had sworn a blood oath: whatever the Princess wished to accomplish, she would dedicate every ounce of her strength to achieve.
The carriage sped onward. A gust of wind whipped the edge of the carriage curtain upward, gently brushing the stray lock of dark hair hanging over Chunxue’s left cheek revealing an ugly scar that covered nearly half of her face.
Following several consecutive days of rain, the sky looked as though it had been thoroughly scrubbed, arching overhead like a colossal sapphire gemstone unmarred by a single cloud.
The estate servants tasked with sweeping the grounds had faces frozen bright red. Brushing the paving stones, one complained: “I thought it would warm up after the spring rain, but it’s even colder than the dead of winter. My ears are about to freeze right off.”
“You’ll only lose your ears at worst; some people are losing their lives entirely.”
Anyone listening could tell the speaker was implying something specific. Exchanging knowing glances, they huddled together, lowering their voices as they chimed in one after another.
“Did you hear? The Empress Dowager has summoned that young marquis of the Xie family?”
“The Xie family is gone, so what marquis is left? A fallen phoenix is less than a chicken; he’s in even worse shape than us right now. At least we get to keep living as for him, who knows if he’ll be dead or alive after entering the palace tomorrow?”
“Didn’t the Princess plead with the Empress Dowager on his behalf? How could he still not survive?”
“You’re a fool. When has the Empress Dowager ever truly shown consideration for our Grand Princess’s estate?”
With those words, the air plunged instantly into a heavy silence.
Such topics were unsuited for public discussion, yet every single one of them understood the reality all too well.
“Cough, cough, cough!”
A violent fit of coughing erupted from the covered corridor behind them.
A frail youth appeared, supporting himself against the wall as he inched slowly forward. His right arm and hand were wrapped in multiple layers of thick gauze, hanging limply and heavily against his side.
Noticing their stares, the youth lifted his head to look in their direction.
That once-striking face now bore no resemblance to the living; every trace of color had drained away, and his eyes in particular resembled the dying embers of a firework display, on the verge of extinguishing completely into the dark.
The servants sweeping the floor felt goosebumps crawl across their skin under his gaze.
They recognized this youth the “fallen phoenix” they had just been gossiping about. Unsure whether he had overheard their conversation, they scattered instantly like startled birds, fleeing to attend to their respective chores.
The sunlight outside was pleasant, untainted by wind.
Having remained confined to bed for half a month, Xie Zi’an had wished to step out and stretch his legs.
He simply hadn’t anticipated that the outdoor temperature would lack the welcoming warmth of the indoor sunlight. Dressed too thinly, the cold air invaded his lungs, triggering uncontainable fits of coughing with every few steps.
He resembled a delicate blossom teetering on the brink in winter, vulnerable to shriveling away beneath the cruel frost at any moment.
Xie Zi’an paid no further attention to the gossiping servants; such chatter was something he encountered frequently.
He harbored neither hatred nor the inclination to refute those who kicked a man while he was down. After all, the temperature of human interaction in a hyper-developed modern society could occasionally drop below freezing let alone in this feudal era, where mere survival constituted a daily battle.
Lacking mobile phones, computers, gaming consoles, and social apps, people possessed remarkably limited outlets for amusement while scrambling simply to stay alive. The most readily accessible diversion was drawing entertainment from the misery of others.
After all, people suffered amid hardship every single day, did they not?
The youth pressed his chapped lips together and continued walking forward in silence.
Chunxue hurried over, appraised his physical condition, and stated: “Someone has arrived from the palace, and the Princess can stall no longer. Since you are able to walk, prepare yourself to enter the palace and face the Empress Dowager.”
“The Empress Dowager is interrogating you for two reasons: first, to provide an explanation to the Emperor, and second, to test your character. Pass this trial, and you earn a second lease on life. At that time, both Jinyiwei and Eastern Depot operatives will be present, so you needn’t be overly terrified. The Princess has already squared things away with the Eastern Depot, and she is currently smoothing the path for your palace entry the people around the Empress Dowager have voracious appetites.”
“Once inside the palace, those individuals will take whatever they want to take, and they won’t make things overly difficult for you along the way.”
Do not underestimate the brief journey from entering the palace gates to standing before the sovereign; without greasing the palms of the right people beforehand, those officials possessed countless ways to torture Xie Zi’an.
The Princess hoped Xie Zi’an would survive for a single, specific reason.
Chunxue, however, felt differently: she hoped Xie Zi’an would survive for the sake of the Princess. If Xie Zi’an managed to stay alive, he would inevitably end up working for the Empress Dowager down the road. She harbored the quiet aspiration that one day, he might transform into another blade belonging to the Princess otherwise, his survival served zero purpose for Zhu Yue.
Reflecting upon this, she added: “If you survive, remember the Princess’s grace. If you die, consider it your destiny, and harbor no resentment toward anyone.”
“Understood. Zi’an will engrave the Grand Princess’s immense grace upon his heart forever.”
Xie Zi’an’s expression remained tranquil. He had long since deduced that merely handing over the ledgers would not entirely pluck him from the jaws of death; danger was an omnipresent, unending shadow.
Since his legs and feet remained weak, Chunxue summoned a manservant to carry him piggyback to the front hall.
Upon arrival, Zhu Yue was conversing with Miao Xin, an older eunuch/matron sent from the palace.
He stood respectfully to the side with lowered head, casting a covert, assessing glance toward the palace attendant seated beside Zhu Yue.
It was a woman around forty years of age, dressed sumptuously and wearing an amiable expression with the corners of her mouth perpetually curved upward. Yet, true benevolence was a rarity among those dispatched directly from the inner palace.
“Cough, cough, cough!” The fit of coughing broke out uncontrollably once more, rippling through the chilly air in successive waves. Xie Zi’an hastily covered his mouth, striving to muffle the sound as much as possible.
With a flat tone, Zhu Yue remarked: “Dressed so thinly, someone is bound to accuse me of mistreating you later. Chunxue, go fetch a thick cloak for him.”
Xie Zi’an acknowledged: “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Taking a slow sip of tea, Miao Xin drawled lazily: “Her Highness is truly benevolent, worrying that even a prisoner might catch a chill.”
Unobtrusively removing a jade bracelet from her wrist, Zhu Yue slid it seamlessly into Miao Xin’s palm: “Please don’t disdain it, Matron. This child has had a miserable time of it.”
To her surprise, Miao Xin offered a cold laugh: “Hasn’t Your Highness heard the saying? Pitiful people invariably harbor hateful traits.”
She pushed the bracelet right back.
Without needing to guess, Zhu Yue seasoned in political calculations comprehended the old fox’s intent: Miao Xin was demanding hard cash.
Extracting several banknotes from her sleeve, Zhu Yue slipped them across alongside the bracelet once more: “I must ask the Matron to show him some mercy.”
“Easily done, easily done.” Pocketing what she wanted, Miao Xin’s expression shifted faster than the turning of a book, and she let out a hypocritical sigh. “I find this child pitiable myself. Who knows if that arm of his can even be saved?”
Those words struck directly at Xie Zi’an’s lingering anxieties. His right arm currently possessed virtually no sensation. Imperial Physician Blue from the palace had assured him that as long as he avoided further injury and changed the dressings on schedule, it would heal properly.
Yet an interrogation in the palace promised to be no kinder than dealing with Lu Bingqiu. If they didn’t strip away a layer of his skin, how could the Empress Dowager furnish a satisfactory explanation to the Emperor?
Thus, whether he would survive remained an entirely open question.
After a brief wait, Chunxue returned with a heavy cloak. Anxious to return to the palace and deliver her report, Miao Xin declined further delay and hurriedly urged Xie Zi’an to depart.
Zhu Yue escorted them all the way out to the gates of the Grand Princess’s residence.
Thump, thump, thump!
The sound of pounding hoofbeats suddenly rang out, causing a few passing pedestrians on the street to scramble out of the way in panic.
Two massive, powerful steeds materialized out of nowhere, galloping straight toward Xie Zi’an’s position.
For a single second, Xie Zi’an’s mind went blank. He could barely manage walking how on earth was he supposed to dodge this?!
Xie Zi’an could practically feel the hot breath puffing from the horses’ nostrils.
At the very last split second, thanks to Chunxue’s lightning-fast reflexes, she yanked him backward by his uninjured side causing the two horses to sweep past him by a hair’s breadth.
Though they only brushed past his shoulder, the impact struck his severely injured arm directly, sending a wave of agonizing pain that left him unable to stand straight.
The incident unfolded with such ferocious speed that Xie Zi’an hadn’t even managed to identify the riders on horseback.
Enduring the searing pain, his heart pounding with lingering terror, he stared in the direction the horses had vanished. Sitting astride one of the steeds was a figure whose appearance struck him as intensely familiar.
The rider possessed a tall, upright frame, with several small braids interwoven with dark-colored cords hanging amidst his raven hair, alongside two dangling silver chains swaying at his temples. He wore a pair of deerskin boots.
It was none other than Li Hanchi.
His attire was brazenly conspicuous. Recognizing him immediately, neither the guards of the Princess’s estate nor the palace attendants uttered a sound, simply allowing the reckless young troublemaker to pass unhindered.
Xie Zi’an’s complexion turned several shades paler, his fingers tightening convulsively into the fabric of his sleeves.
He had successfully rerouted the young marquis’s original path of death, but the pre-existing narrative threads of the original book were not so easily rewritten; the plot was actively working to correct the deviations Xie Zi’an had introduced.
Li Hanchi must have anticipated that the palace would send someone to collect him, and had deliberately laid in wait here solely for the purpose of trampling him with horses.
Had those hooves landed square on him, given his current shattered physical state, he undoubtedly would not have survived.
Li Hanchi was explicitly trying to take his life!