The next day, Jiang Yu went to Princess Ruiyang Meng Qingyao’s residence.
Meng Qingyao’s only daughter had been sent far away to Mobei for a political marriage three days prior.
Having relied on each other for decades, the forced separation had left Meng Qingyao ill.
Upon hearing Jiang Yu was visiting, Meng Qingyao struggled to rise and greet her.
“Aunt, how did you fall so gravely ill?” Noting Meng Qingyao’s pallid complexion, Jiang Yu stepped forward to support her.
Jiang Yu’s mother had been very close to Meng Qingyao, hence Jiang Yu affectionately called her “Aunt.”
“Last night I dreamed bandits with knives were chasing my daughter. My child was covered in blood, crying for my help.” Meng Qingyao wiped her tears. “It’s my fault for being lowly—just the emperor’s half-sister—unable to protect my own daughter in the end.”
“It was only a dream! Younger sister is a princess—who would dare act so recklessly?” Jiang Yu patted Meng Qingyao’s hand reassuringly. “Besides, my husband personally oversaw the bridal escort—it must have been properly arranged.”
“P-Pei Xiao?” Meng Qingyao’s tears stopped. Her slightly contracted pupils met Jiang Yu’s gaze before hastily looking away.
This aunt of Jiang Yu’s had always been straightforward, fearless even toward the emperor. Why did she avoid mentioning Pei Xiao like he was poison?
Jiang Yu couldn’t directly inquire about her own husband from an outsider, so she changed the subject: “Aunt, I came today because I noticed some fine embroidery patterns in the embroidery room last time. May I borrow them to study?”
“Of course, of course.” Meng Qingyao still seemed distracted, mumbling vaguely, “Yu’er, was it the wedding dress with the dragon and phoenix design you fancied?”
Suspicion grew in Jiang Yu’s heart.
In truth, the embroidery patterns were merely a pretext. She recalled that two days ago, it was in the embroidery room where she had felt headaches and chest tightness, leading to a series of nightmares.
She wanted to search the embroidery room for clues.
But Meng Qingyao seemed to have anticipated she would come for the embroidery patterns. Had Meng Qingyao truly tampered with something in the embroidery room last time?
Maintaining her composure, Jiang Yu followed along: “Yes, the dragon and phoenix embroidery is exquisite. I’d like to examine it again.”
Hearing this, Meng Qingyao unconsciously tightened her grip on Jiang Yu’s hand. “Yu’er, have you remembered what happened on your wedding night?”
Uncertain of Meng Qingyao’s meaning, Jiang Yu smiled noncommittally. “The bandits were rampant then—I can’t recall anything clearly.”
Three years ago, on the night the Pei family welcomed their new bride, charred corpses had piled up like mountains, indistinguishable from one another.
It was hardly surprising that Jiang Yu, a delicate girl raised in seclusion, had been frightened into amnesia.
Meng Qingyao hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
Until a few days ago, when she accidentally learned a horrifying secret about Pei Xiao.
Uncertain whether it was true, she decided to probe through Jiang Yu, his closest companion.
“Yu’er, I’ll be frank with you—that dragon and phoenix wedding dress was the one you wore on your wedding day! Look at it carefully—perhaps you’ll remember something?”
Mysteriously, Meng Qingyao retrieved a wedding dress from the octagonal cabinet in the embroidery room.
Just then, the door swung open.
“Princess, an esteemed guest requests an audience!” a maid announced.
“Not now!” Preoccupied, Meng Qingyao had no time for distractions and presented the dress to Jiang Yu. “Yu’er, look, there’s still…”
“Princess, it’s Lord Pei requesting to see you.” The maid steeled herself, tugging at Meng Qingyao’s sleeve and whispering in her ear.Pei Xiao held a high position and wielded great power, with the current emperor relying on him more than his own children.
He had nearly reached the point of controlling the emperor to command the nobles. Not to mention the maids not daring to neglect him, even Meng Qingyao, a princess, dared not show the slightest oversight.
Moreover, while this man appeared radiant and honorable on the surface, Meng Qingyao, after learning that secret, realized he was nothing but a vicious wolf skilled in disguise.
Meng Qingyao felt slightly dizzy and rubbed her temples. “Liu Er, please escort Lord Pei to the drawing room…”
“Aunt, your nephew-in-law apologizes for the intrusion.”
At that moment, a clear voice sounded from outside the door.
Pei Xiao, dressed in white with a jade crown, stood at the entrance of the embroidery room and cupped his hands in salute to Meng Qingyao.
His tall figure blocked the light. Despite it being the height of sunny season, the embroidery room felt dark, cold, and cramped.
Pei Xiao entered uninvited. Disgust flashed across Meng Qingyao’s face, but her words transformed into a smile as they reached her lips. “You’re too courteous, Lord Pei.”
Pei Xiao ignored her and turned his gaze toward Jiang Yu, who was sitting on the daybed, showing surprise. “Oh? Yu’er? What are you doing here?”
“Aunt has been feeling depressed lately, so I came to visit her.”
Jiang Yu didn’t know why Pei Xiao had arrived so promptly, but investigating her husband in secret wasn’t something to be discussed openly.
She discreetly tucked the wedding dress under her skirt and countered, “What about you? Why are you here at this hour?”
Logically, he should have been at court at this time.
Pei Xiao’s peripheral gaze swept with interest over her spread-out ruqun skirt, and he offered a faint, indifferent smile. “What a coincidence. I also heard that Aunt has been seriously ill recently and specially brought a gift.”
“Aunt, please come this way.” Pei Xiao gestured politely and stepped aside to make a path.
As Meng Qingyao stepped over the threshold, she saw a vermilion lacquerwood box, wide enough for one person, placed beneath the corridor.
Faintly visible, thick, bright red liquid dripped from the bottom of the box, pooling into a glaring puddle of blood.
The autumn wind carried a salty, fishy scent. Meng Qingyao’s stomach churned, and she recoiled, stepping back.
But Pei Xiao stood behind her, cutting off her retreat. “Your nephew-in-law thought this item would surely ease Aunt’s longing, so I had someone bring it back from the distant northern deserts. Won’t you take a look, Aunt?”
The northern deserts?
Meng Qingyao’s eyelids twitched. Looking closer, she recognized the nanmu box—it was the one she had used for her daughter’s dowry, still bearing yellow sand from the northern deserts.
“My daughter?” Visions of the grief-stricken, helpless eyes from her nightmares surfaced before Meng Qingyao’s eyes. Her steps faltered as she moved toward the corridor.
A trace of mockery flickered at the corner of Pei Xiao’s mouth but vanished quickly. He then turned and extended a hand to Jiang Yu. “Will Yu’er join us as well?”
“No, my shoes are soiled. I need some time to clean them.” Jiang Yu lifted her skirt to show him the stains on her embroidered shoes, further concealing the wedding dress.
Yet the dust on her shoes was fresh, mixed with wood shavings—clearly rubbed off just moments ago on the daybed.
Indeed, after spending time with those filthy flies, even Yu’er had learned to be cunning.
Pei Xiao’s dark lashes lowered. “Then clean them properly, Yu’er. Be careful not to bring any filth back home.”
“Of course not. If my husband is as pure as the clear wind and bright moon, how could I possibly harbor any filth?” Jiang Yu’s almond-shaped eyes smiled meaningfully.
But Pei Xiao couldn’t resist her flattery. He chuckled helplessly, leaned close to her ear, and whispered gently, “Yu’er is right. Yu’er cannot harbor filth. Yu’er can only harbor her husband.”
Pei Xiao lightly tapped her forehead and turned to find Meng Qingyao.Jiang Yu watched his tall, elegant figure recede into the distance, then suddenly came to her senses. Her ears flushed crimson with a mix of embarrassment and panic as she stuffed the wedding gown beneath the daybed.
After tidying up, Jiang Yu curiously glanced out the window.
Though she hadn’t seen what gift Pei Xiao had brought, she had clearly sensed Meng Qingyao’s terror.
Pei Xiao’s words had sounded perfectly ordinary—what kind of magic could have frightened her aunt so thoroughly?
At that moment, Meng Qingyao had rushed ahead to the wooden chest, eager to open it, when a pale, jade-like hand rested on the lid.
Pei Xiao brushed his fingertips over the grit on the chest, casually grinding it as he spoke. “Your Highness is a virtuous soul who fasts and chants Buddhist sutras. This humble official advises you to brace yourself, lest you grieve at what you see.”
A mournful sigh nearly made Meng Qingyao lose her balance; her fingers dug into the side of the chest.
At such close range, the sour, putrid odor from inside the chest assailed her once more.
If it wasn’t the stench of a decaying corpse, then what could it be?
The nightmare from last night must have been real!
Tears welled in Meng Qingyao’s eyes. “My daughter gave herself to Southern Qi by marrying into another land. Why, Lord Pei, have you harmed her so cruelly?”
“Harmed?” Pei Xiao replied indifferently. “It was this beast who lacked the sense to stay clear of the wolves. Torn open, guts spilled, organs gone—such a short life. I kindly gathered what remained of him. How could you wrong your own nephew-in-law, Aunt?”
He made it sound as if he were blameless!
Meng Qingyao stared at the bloodstains on the ground, her eyes reddening. “Pei Xiao, what do you mean by this?!”
“And what do you mean, Aunt?” Pei Xiao’s gaze swept toward the bridal chamber.
Only then did Meng Qingyao understand: Pei Xiao did not want anyone interfering in his affairs with Jiang Yu.
She hadn’t even spoken a word, yet Pei Xiao had mercilessly killed her darling.
How arrogant!
Truly, unbearably arrogant!
“I’ll tell Jiang right now what kind of monster you are!” Blood rushed to Meng Qingyao’s head. Gritting her teeth, she staggered toward the bridal chamber. “Yu’er, I must speak with you!”
Pei Xiao did not stop her. Leaning lazily against the wooden chest, he remarked unhurriedly, “The scenery at Azure Cloud Temple in the northern part of the city is quite pleasant—a fine place indeed.”
Meng Qingyao halted in her tracks, her face turning ashen.
Only a handful within the royal family knew that Azure Cloud Temple was where disgraced imperial consorts were sent to atone. Those inside were either mad or wicked—Meng Qingyao’s own mother had died there.
Did Pei Xiao intend to lock her away as well?
This hypocrite would stop at nothing to silence her!
“I am a princess of Southern Qi! How dare you think you can imprison me at will?” Meng Qingyao spun around in fury.
Pei Xiao stood bathed in sunlight at a distance, his face as flawless as carved jade. He resembled a Buddha enshrined in Azure Cloud Temple—untouched by mortal suffering, yet with the power to command the clouds and rain with a single thought, evoking both awe and dread.
Though he had done nothing overt, Meng Qingyao’s chest heaved uncontrollably, her defiance waning.
“Aunt?”
Just then, not wanting Pei Xiao to enter the bridal chamber and notice anything amiss, Jiang Yu pushed the door open and stepped out. She found the two standing face to face.
One observed the passing clouds with detached calm; the other stood at the brink of an abyss.