Inside the Princess’s study, candlelight burned bright.
Qingluan stood before the desk, reporting every detail of the wild rumors spreading outside. She even repeated some of the most vivid descriptions.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince’s move is vicious!” Qingluan’s voice carried suppressed fury. “He seeks to demonize you completely—not only to destroy your reputation, but to make you a terror in the eyes of the people, a monster to be shunned. His malice is extreme. Should we send men to trace the source and silence it?”
Baili Jun set down her brush, her face calm, untouched by anger or panic.
“Silence it?” she spoke slowly, voice steady. “Why silence it?”
Qingluan blinked. “Your Highness, such slander…”
“Slander?” Baili Jun cut her off, eyes sharp as ice. “To the ignorant masses, strange tales are more alluring than truth. The Crown Prince thinks that by spreading these horrors, he can cast me into ruin—force Father to act against me under pressure of ‘demonic rumors,’ or incite the people to rise against me, so he can fish in troubled waters.”
He failed to cut out her heart, so now he spreads tales that she eats hearts. Clearly, he will not rest until he destroys her.
Baili Jun rose and walked to the window, gazing at the capital cloaked in night.
“He is wrong.” Her voice was soft, yet carried absolute certainty. “Fear is also a kind of power. When one is painted as a demon, people may shun them—but there is another possibility.”
She turned back, candlelight flickering in her eyes. “And that is awe.”
“The Crown Prince thinks fear will isolate me. He does not know that absolute fear can breed absolute submission. He believes the name ‘Princess Who Eats Hearts’ will cripple me? Ha. He does not see that it may become the sharpest blade in my hand.”
Her gaze swept Qingluan. “When enemies and fools believe you wield powers beyond reason, every gesture carries its own intimidation. Sometimes, that is more useful than a reputation for virtue.”
Qingluan understood instantly.
A princess rumored to devour hearts would inspire dread far greater than a dignified princess ever could—especially among those with guilty consciences.
“Then Your Highness means…?”
“Let them spread it.” Baili Jun sat again, voice calm. “The wider, the stranger, the better. No clarifications, no suppression. Let the seeds of fear take root in every heart.”
Her eyes flashed cold. “The Crown Prince wants to burn me with rumor’s fire? Then I will fan the flames higher—burn away false masks, expose the demons in men’s hearts, and see who is consumed first.”
Since they call me a demon, I will show them a demon.
“Understood!” Qingluan bowed deeply.
“How goes the Ministry of Revenue?” Baili Jun sipped her tea.
Qingluan answered softly: “The Crown Prince’s men moved quickly. Before the Ministry of Justice and Court of Judicial Review arrived, they had already destroyed a batch of records. The markings showed they were the original northern payroll ledgers. Our people could not act inside, but we recorded the names of those involved and the details of the destruction.”
“No matter. Originals gone, traces remain. When the Ministry investigates, the Crown Prince’s men cannot escape.” Baili Jun sneered.
Just then, the steward Qingshuang reported from outside: “Your Highness, the Third Prince’s residence has sent a card and gifts of rare tonics, saying he heard of your illness and wishes to pay respects.”
Baili Jun and Qingluan exchanged a glance, both seeing the same understanding in each other’s eyes.
Qingluan went to open the study door.
Qingshuang entered quietly, presenting a gilded card and a gift list.
Baili Jun didn’t even open them—just one glance at the familiar royal insignia was enough.
Faster than she expected. Clearly, the Crown Prince’s counterattack in court had struck the Third Prince’s sore spot.
“Where is the messenger?” Baili Jun asked calmly.
“Still waiting in the side hall, saying he must hear Your Highness’s reply directly, by order of the Third Prince,” Qingshuang answered respectfully.
Baili Jun’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk. The confinement decree was both a shackle and a shield. She understood her father’s warning well, but it also meant that for the next month, she was safe—at least from open assassination attempts. Any faction wishing to reach her would have to use “visiting the sick” as a pretext. That gave her breathing room—and time to plan.
After a pause, Baili Jun spoke evenly: “Tell him this princess is confined by imperial order, a guilty soul unfit to receive guests, and dares not trouble Third Brother with concern. His thoughtfulness is noted, but the gifts are too precious. I cannot accept them. Return them as they are, and thank him on my behalf.”
Her refusal was crisp, leaving no room for negotiation.
Qingshuang bowed and departed.
Qingluan murmured: “The Third Prince seeks alliance?”
“Alliance?” Baili Jun gave a soft laugh, tinged with irony. “Baili Jing is more patient and better at disguise than Baili Zhang. He only covets the evidence I hold, hoping to use my blade to strike the Crown Prince faster and harder. Once the Crown Prince falls, his next target will be any sibling who threatens his claim.”
“To conspire with a tiger is to be devoured. Let the brothers fight. The harder they clash, the safer we are—and the more leverage we gain.”
Qingluan nodded thoughtfully. “Your foresight is deep, but the Third Prince won’t give up easily.”
“No matter.” Baili Jun’s tone was calm. “He won’t dare storm the Princess’s residence. At most, he’ll try tricks in secret—or test me in another way.”
Just then, the distinctive signal of the Crimson Feather Guard sounded outside.
“Your Highness, news from the Crimson Guard. I’ll check immediately,” Qingluan said.
…
At the Third Prince’s residence.
The prince was discussing court strategy with Master Fang, analyzing the Crown Prince’s possible countermoves.
His trusted steward Li Zhong hurried back, face grim.
“Well? Did Zhaohua accept the gifts? When will she meet?” The Third Prince set down his chess piece, voice carrying a subtle urgency.
Li Zhong bowed, cautious. “My lord, Princess Zhaohua… refused all gifts, and declined the visit.”
“Declined?” The Third Prince’s gentle mask froze, his gaze sharp on Li Zhong. “What exactly did she say? Word for word!”
Li Zhong dared not omit a syllable, repeating Baili Jun’s words precisely:
“…Confined by imperial order, a guilty soul unfit to receive guests, dares not trouble Third Brother with concern… thoughtfulness noted, gifts too precious, returned as they are…”
The Third Prince sneered coldly. “So, she looks down on my olive branch?”