After turning Duke Shen’s Estate upside down, the instigator departed with unhurried ease.
Inside the carriage, the two sat facing each other.
Chu Zhao stared at the hand gripping her wrist. Her red lips parted to utter two words: “Let go!”
The man didn’t move a muscle. He fixed his eyes on her. “The Princess Consort’s madness cured itself without medicine. Not only have you gained extraordinary strength, you’ve also learned spear and staff techniques—and mastered the Mystic Arts.”
“How remarkable. Could it be that your Ancestors have blessed you again?”
The words “your Ancestors have blessed you” rolled over his lips, their drawn-out ending laden with meaning.
Chu Zhao shot back, “Just yesterday, the Prince of You said he wanted a divorce. Last night, he was offering himself to me, behaving like some brothel courtesan. And today, it’s ‘Princess Regent’ this and ‘Princess Regent’ that.”
“Such fickleness—is that another family tradition of your Ancestors’?”
Yan Qi’s grip on her hand abruptly tightened. “The King of Xuanzhao…”
Those three words made Chu Zhao’s heart skip a beat. Her expression didn’t change; she even looked faintly puzzled. “What about the King of Xuanzhao?”
Yan Qi couldn’t read a thing from her face.
“The King of Xuanzhao’s signature art was the Overlord Spear. The staff techniques the Princess Regent used earlier bore traces of it.” He leaned forward, and the distance between them suddenly shrank until she could see the curve of his lashes. “Where did you learn them?”
Chu Zhao narrowed her eyes. Instead of retreating, she leaned in a little too.
Their breaths nearly mingled.
“The King of Xuanzhao died three hundred years ago. Where did the Prince of You ever see the Overlord Spear?”
“I have a cook in my service,” Yan Qi said. He didn’t retreat. If anything, he moved closer still, near enough that if she came another inch forward, her nose would touch his chin. “He’s a descendant of the King of Xuanzhao and knows the Overlord Spear.”
Chu Zhao: “…”
Her descendant?
Serving Yan Fuwei’s grandson?
And he’d only managed to become a cook?!!
Chu Zhao felt as if she really was about to burst the lid off her coffin.
What kind of useless lot had the Chu Family raised by now?! Not only were they good-for-nothings, they’d forgotten their roots! Three hundred years, and not one of them had come to pay respects to her!
Chu Zhao forcibly suppressed the anger surging up inside her, keeping the same nonchalant expression on her face.
“Three hundred years have passed, and people still remember the King of Xuanzhao?” Chu Zhao asked in return, studying the man before her. “You seem unusually interested in the King of Xuanzhao’s descendants.”
“Are you interested in the people—or in something else?”
“You know what I’m looking for?”
Chu Zhao smiled, her expression inscrutable. Of course she knew. Though she couldn’t freely use her ghost power, all the winds blowing north and south could serve as her eyes and ears.
Yan Qi had deliberately spilled tea on his clothes and left. While she was dealing with the impostor Madam Chu and Shen Yuzhu, his guards had been rummaging through the impostor Madam Chu’s room.
The two of them stared each other down.
“Whoa!”
The carriage came to an abrupt halt.
Inertia hurled them both forward.
Yan Qi reacted swiftly, bracing one hand against the carriage wall to steady himself. At the same moment, Chu Zhao’s knee had already driven into the vulnerable spot at his waist and abdomen.
He didn’t dodge.
Not only did he fail to dodge, he seized the crook of her knee, tightening his five fingers. Even through the fabric, she could feel the warmth of his lower leg.
The next moment, both of them had a hand at the other’s throat.
She gripped his neck; he clutched her throat.
As they grappled, the distance between them shrank to almost nothing.
Nose to nose, breath mingling with breath. Whoever moved first would die under the other’s hand.
Their eyes, blazing with murderous intent, locked on each other from inches away.
Their breaths tangled—hot and damp, carrying each other’s scent.
That scent filled Yan Qi’s nostrils, and the dull ache inside his skull faded once more. His fingers loosened a little without his meaning to, but he didn’t pull away. His fingertips brushed the delicate skin of her throat, as smooth as the finest silk.
Chu Zhao’s lashes fluttered.
She stared at the wound on his lips, remembering the taste of his blood from the previous night.
Her gaze drifted uncontrollably to the side of his neck, and her throat bobbed.
Yan Qi noticed her gaze. There was no murderous intent in it, but rather… greed and hunger?
Yan Qi suddenly recalled something he’d once heard: evil ghosts had always relished human blood.
When he woke that morning, there had been blood on her lips, and his own tongue and lips had been bitten, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. Yan Qi’s eyes darkened slightly. Without a sound, he bit the tip of his tongue.
He deliberately leaned closer and asked in a low, coaxing voice, “The Princess Regent has been blessed by her Ancestors and become enlightened. Which Ancestor might that be?”
Chu Zhao’s gaze grew noticeably unfocused. She murmured, “Mine, naturally… Whose else would it be? Your family’s dogs?”
Yan Qi frowned and lowered his eyes to meet the woman’s mocking gaze. There wasn’t the slightest trace of enchantment in her eyes. She’d been pretending all along.
Outside the carriage, Qi Yun said cautiously, “Your Highness… We’ve arrived at the residence.”
Chu Zhao shoved him away and brushed imaginary dust from her clothes. Before getting out, she shot Yan Qi a sidelong glance. “If you want to find that thing, first learn how to serve your Ancestor.”
With that, Chu Zhao stepped out and strode into the residence. To the steward who came hurrying out to greet her, she said, “Prepare the bath. I’m going to bathe!”
“And see that the old nanny we brought back is properly settled. Anyone who dares neglect her will be dealt with under military law!”
The steward stood dumbfounded, staring blankly at the Prince of You in the carriage.
Qi Yun was just as astonished. “Your Highness… the Princess Regent, she…”
“Do as she says.” Yan Qi’s gaze darkened as he seemed lost in thought. “Send for Chu Nanxing. Have him ride hard to the capital.”
“Yes, but if Chu Nanxing comes to the capital now, the one in the palace will only grow more wary.” Qi Yun was still concerned. His Highness had returned to the capital this time with only a thousand elite soldiers.
But there were still fifty thousand troops stationed outside the capital, and Chu Nanxing was their deputy general.
“The Princess Regent was humiliated when she returned to her family home. As a member of the Chu Family, Chu Nanxing has every reason to come to the capital and seek justice for his older cousin.”
Qi Yun was taken aback. From the sound of it, His Highness intended to assign Chu Nanxing to the Princess Regent?
But why?
That night,
Wutong Courtyard was completely transformed. Not only had all its furnishings been replaced with items befitting the Princess Regent’s station, but a full complement of maids and servants had also been assigned to her.
Even the evening meal had been prepared with considerable care.
Chu Zhao eyed the table laden with rich, heavily sauced dishes and frowned.
Was that grandson Yan Qi trying to kill her with chili?
“Take it away. Bring me something light.”
In her previous life, she’d loved spicy food, but this body was fragile in every other way despite its strength. Xiaokugua had often been denied food in the past, and her stomach had been ruined early on.
The servants attending her didn’t dare say a word and hurriedly cleared away the dishes.
A soft scoff suddenly came from outside the door.
Chu Zhao glanced sideways. A spirited young man in brocade robes stood in the doorway, giving her an unfriendly once-over.
“I heard your madness has been cured. You do seem sharper than before—you’ve even learned to throw your weight around as the Princess Regent!”
Chu Zhao’s gaze swept up from his feet and finally settled on his face.
“Whose brat are you?”
Chu Nanxing felt thoroughly uncomfortable under Chu Zhao’s stare, as if she were looking at him like he was her grandson. When he heard what she said, he flared with anger. Did she really think he was her grandson?
“I’m Chu Nanxing!”
Chu Nanxing? Who was that?
Chu Zhao vaguely dredged up a few scraps from Xiaokugua’s memories, then recalled what Yan Qi had said earlier about “a cook in his service.”
So this arrogant little brat in the doorway was that useless waste of space?
Chu Zhao’s expression darkened at once.
“You. Get on your knees!”
Chu Nanxing: ????