“Who’s there!”
The shout startled Nianyao, nearly causing her to tumble down the steps.
She stretched out both hands, hastily steadying herself to avoid falling, then slowly approached, speaking cautiously.
“Um… Eunuch Xu, this servant didn’t mean to.”
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s, and she dared not let her gaze wander, fearing she might see something she shouldn’t. If she did, the seemingly decisive and ruthless Xu Mo before her might end her life with a single stroke.
The palace was filled with palace servants.
It was no surprise if a few palace servants went missing from any palace in any given year.
Nianyao trembled so much her legs shook.
Xu Mo raised his head, his black hair covering half his face and jaw. Behind him, the flickering flames cast a shadow, making him appear like a wrathful deity, evoking fear in anyone who saw him.
He bore no resemblance to a teenage boy.
His voice, cold as lake water, echoed.
“What are you doing here?”
Nianyao cautiously lifted her eyes to glance at him, but his grim appearance frightened her into lowering her head again.
She swallowed hard. “This servant… this servant wanted to take advantage of the quiet night to pray to the Buddha and make a wish.”
Xu Mo snorted coldly.
“At this hour?”
Nianyao nodded vigorously. “Exactly because it’s this hour, when mortals are asleep and only the gods are awake, they can hear this servant’s wish.”
This explanation was the first of its kind Xu Mo had ever heard.
He straightened his posture. “Then tell me, what wish did you make?”
Xu Mo’s voice suddenly changed—no longer the icy, piercing lake water but more like a gentle spring stream. Hearing it, Nianyao felt a slight calm in her heart.
She pursed her lips and spoke earnestly.
“I wish for my family’s health and for the wrongs done to them to be righted.”
Nianyao’s words took Xu Mo by surprise. He raised his head to look at her features.
This was the first time Xu Mo had truly looked at her.
In his mind flashed Pan’er’s chattering praise of Nianyao’s beauty.
Xu Mo suddenly spoke. “Pan’er was right.”
Nianyao was taken aback, lifting her head with a look of confusion.
Xu Mo explained, “She said that beautiful women are all poisonous.”
Nianyao’s face flushed crimson, but under Xu Mo’s gaze, she found herself unable to utter any of the countless words swirling in her mind.
She could only swallow her frustration in silence.
Nianyao quickly glanced at the objects in front of Xu Mo, but just as she was about to retort with a few sharp words,
her words stuck in her throat, and a look of astonishment slowly spread across her face.
Xu Mo had merely spoken to her in a momentarily good mood, never expecting this seemingly delicate woman to be so bold.
Thinking of the shameful spirit tablet hidden behind him,
Xu Mo lifted his eyes, a flicker of killing intent appearing in his gaze as he looked at Nianyao.
He placed his hands behind his back, about to take action,
when he heard the woman before him murmur softly.
“Aunt?”
Aunt?
Xu Mo’s movements halted abruptly. He stared into Nianyao’s eyes, unwilling to miss any of the emotions flashing across her face.
Shock, confusion, astonishment, delight…
Even Xu Mo hadn’t known that so many emotions could cross a person’s face in such a short time.
Finally, Nianyao’s eyes met his.
“Plop”
In the silence of the night, her tears fell onto the bluestone floor.
In the dim, candlelit darkness of the night, it was hard to see clearly.
Yet Xu Mo inexplicably understood the emotion in her eyes—it was astonishment, immense astonishment.
The flickering lamplight made Nianyao feel somewhat dizzy.
But she stared fixedly at the memorial tablet behind Xu Mo.
“Mother, Spirit Tablet of Jiang Panyue.”
Nianyao’s heart was in turmoil.
Jiang Panyue was her aunt who had married into the palace and died during a difficult childbirth.
Her aunt was over a decade older than her, and Nianyao had hardly ever seen this aunt who existed only in her parents’ memories.
But there was a portrait of her hanging in the family study, painted by her father before her aunt had left home to marry.
And those eyes were exactly the same as those of Xu Mo, who now stood before Nianyao.
Only now did Nianyao understand where the sense of familiarity she felt when looking at Xu Mo had come from.
Gazing at this memorial tablet, a sense of unreality washed over Nianyao.
Back then, news had come from the palace that her aunt, a Zhaoyi, was pregnant and had given birth in the eighth month, but both mother and child had died.
Yet now, this memorial tablet was placed right before Nianyao’s eyes, impossible to ignore.
It took a long time before Nianyao shifted her gaze to the frail figure.
She spoke softly, but the tenderness overflowing in her words even distracted herself.
“My name is Nianyao, Jiang Nianyao.”
Nianyao’s voice trembled slightly, though even she herself did not notice it.
But Xu Mo before her noticed it clearly.
Xu Mo lifted his eyes, looking at this beautiful girl who claimed to be from the Jiang family.
His eyes were dark and deep, yet his thoughts were tangled in his mind.
He reached out and pushed her away.
“This is not a place you should be. Leave quickly.”
Nianyao stumbled from his push. She turned to look at Xu Mo, wanting to say something more.
But meeting his guarded gaze,
Nianyao found herself unable to utter a single word.
Her heart was filled with unshed tears. Nianyao said hoarsely,
“Alright, I’ll leave now.”
She watched as Xu Mo quickly gathered the memorial tablet that had been placed on the table earlier, along with the pastries beside it, and extinguished the burning flames in the brazier.
Before Nianyao, he firmly closed the door,
not even leaving a crack for her.
Nianyao no longer knew in what manner or under what circumstances she should face Xu Mo.
Only, when Nianyao looked up again,
the layer of dark clouds that had covered the sky had, at some unknown time, drifted away.
The moonlight was pure and bright, spilling over the earth.
A smile that she could not suppress lingered at the corners of Nianyao’s lips. She sat on the steps, gazing at the moonlight.
Even as the cold seeped into her clothes, making her shiver, the smile on her face never faded.
After an unknown length of time, Nianyao’s face had grown somewhat stiff.
She tugged at the corner of her mouth but suddenly tasted a hint of saltiness.
Nianyao reached up and touched her cheek,
only to find it covered in tear stains.
Why was she crying? She should be happy instead.
If she could still encounter a relative within these palace walls now,
what great fortune that would be.
If Father knew that her aunt’s son had survived and was now about her age,
he would surely be overjoyed.
Don’t cry.