“Young Mistress must have grown somewhat anxious after not seeing the Emperor for the past few days. Please do not take it to heart.” Lanzhi placed the medicinal ointment Lü Yanghua had given her earlier onto the table.
“I am fine,” came Tingyuan’s voice.
“Speaking of which, it is indeed strange. Why hasn’t His Majesty set foot in the inner palace for so many days?” Lanzhi could not refrain from asking. The Emperor had never been one to frequent the inner palace often, yet he had never stayed away for such an extended period either.
Tingyuan shook his head. “He did indeed come, and according to Godfather, there were no other consorts accompanying him.”
“If that is the case, then we ought to inform Young Mistress so she can make preparations early to rekindle her connection with His Majesty!”
“No rush. I always feel there is something peculiar about this matter. He will head to Xiaoxiang Garden again this afternoon; if I can spare the time, I will go take a look.”
The sound of a stool dragging across the floor echoed inside the room as someone began walking toward the door. Fearing she might be discovered, Lü Yanghua hurriedly held her breath and retreated.
Having deliberately made the noise, Song Heting watched the sneaky shadow at the doorway vanish into thin air, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face.
On her end, having learned this monumental secret, Lü Yanghua returned to her room, unable to sit or stand in peace.
*What a clever Tingyuan! How dare you fool me! You knew the Emperor’s whereabouts yet kept them from me; you have no sincere intention of helping me at all. Fortunately, I was sharp enough to discover your true colors…*
She thought to herself: *Once I succeed tonight and win the Imperial favor, you will be the very first person I send packing.*
She waited and waited until nightfall finally arrived. To prevent Tingyuan from ruining her plans, she deliberately dismissed him, claiming that she only needed Lanzhi to attend to her tonight. The moment his figure vanished beyond the doorway, Lü Yanghua sat straight up in one smooth motion, not a trace of sleepiness left in her eyes—a sudden move that startled Lanzhi.
“Young Mistress?”
“Hush.” Lü Yanghua gestured for her to lower her voice. Scrambling off the bed, she dragged Lanzhi over to the dressing table, sat down, and said, “Lanzhi, hurry up and dress me up. Braid a lovely hair bun for me.”
Infected by her cautious behavior, Lanzhi lowered her voice as well, softly asking, “Who is Young Mistress dressing up so late at night to go out and see?” Even as she asked, her hands had already picked up the comb.
“The Emperor, naturally.” Lü Yanghua raised her delicate chin slightly, her face brimming with triumphant pride. “I know he will be taking a stroll through the palace tonight, so I am going to chance an encounter with him.”
Hearing this, Lanzhi remained silent. Lü Yanghua guessed she was likely wondering how she had come by this information.
After securing a hairpin in her hair, Lanzhi spoke with hesitation, “But why are we keeping this from Tingyuan?”
At the mention of him, Lü Yanghua felt displeasure rise within her. The upturned corners of her lips pressed downward as she replied, “What is there to tell him?”
She checked her makeup from side to side, feeling reasonably satisfied. “He is an unloyal servant. He clearly knew things, yet he hid them away to deceive me. Once I rise to power, I will surely banish him to the farthest, most remote palace, never allowed to return!”
“Let’s hurry and go; tonight is a rare opportunity.” She walked to the doorway, while Lanzhi stood behind her with an unreadable expression.
“Lanzhi?”
“Young Mistress, this servant…” Lanzhi seemed to find it difficult to speak, clutching her stomach. “Could you wait for me a moment? I… I seem to have an upset stomach…”
“Oh dear! Why must you have trouble the moment we step out!” Lü Yanghua certainly wanted to wait for her, as she was terrified of the dark path ahead. Yet she feared missing the Emperor even more. It was already late; what would be left if she delayed any further?
Taking the lantern from Lanzhi’s hand, she said, “There is no time left. You rest here; I will go and return shortly.”
“Perhaps you need not wait for me either; maybe I won’t be back until tomorrow.” After a moment’s thought, she let out a soft laugh infused with naive charm, giving one final instruction: “You are not allowed to tell Tingyuan that I went out.”
“Yes, this servant understands.” Lanzhi leaned against the doorway, wanting to follow yet not daring to, as she bade farewell to Lü Yanghua. “Young Mistress, going out alone so late at night, you must be exceptionally careful. If things truly do not work out, remember to return.”
“I know, I know.” Lü Yanghua’s voice scattered into the night.
After she departed, Song Heting revealed his figure from the shadows, stepping beside Lanzhi. Together, the two watched her back disappear into the dark night.
“She left?” His voice carried no noticeable tremor; he was not angry about Lü Yanghua keeping things from him. Rather, this was entirely within his expectations.
“Yes.” Lanzhi turned around to face him, the expression on her face returning to indifference, void of the excruciating abdominal pain she had displayed just moments ago. She asked Song Heting, “Should I quietly follow behind her?”
“No need.” Song Heting looked her up and down from above before stepping out the door himself. “Since Young Mistress told you to rest, then rest.”
He then walked unhurriedly toward the direction where Lü Yanghua had vanished.
Lü Yanghua did not wander around the palace often. However, she possessed a good sense of direction, keeping every path she walked memorized in her heart. Following behind her, Song Heting watched her all the way until she reached Xiaoxiang Garden.
Lü Yanghua found a gazebo to sit in, feigning an attempt to admire the barren water surface.
Watching her clumsy display, Song Heting could barely hold back a laugh. Admiring a frozen lake in the dead of winter was altogether too forced. Seeing that the timing was about right, he made a slight disturbance, causing Lü Yanghua to snap her head up like a startled cat, searching for the source of the noise.
He guided her all the way to the correct position. The location was ingenious—she remained concealed in the shadows while the Emperor stood out in the open light.
No one discovered that an additional woman had appeared here, as the Emperor had his back turned to her, tending to his own business.
From her vantage point, Lü Yanghua could clearly see every single move he made, her eyes wide with shock.
Even a mind that was far from sharp realized in that instant that something terrible was afoot. She forced herself to cover her mouth, not daring to utter a sound.
“Will you still not speak?” The Emperor stood beside a headless corpse, asking in a cold voice.
No one before him answered.
Enraged to the extreme, the Emperor broke into laughter, his laughter growing louder and louder until every hair on Lü Yanghua’s body stood on end. He said, “Very well.”
“Very well indeed.”
“You bunch of cheap bones, pigs and dogs who deceive your sovereign.”
No one would ever have the chance to speak again. Lü Yanghua watched with her own eyes as he personally slaughtered those people one by one. The stench of blood surged fiercely into her nostrils, leaving her forgetting even to blink as she watched their blood spread across the ground, seeming to creep toward her. Unable to help herself, she took a step backward.
As a result, just one step short of escaping, she stepped on a dry branch. The sound echoed with terrifying clarity in the quiet night.
“Who’s there?!” The Emperor indeed heard someone. He whipped around, his eyes filled with gloom as he searched for whatever was hiding in the shadows. Yet Lü Yanghua was no longer in her original spot; her mouth was currently being covered from behind as she was pulled behind a fake rock, her heart pounding so hard it threatened to leap out of her throat.
In the spot where she had originally stood, a cat had taken her place.
Thanks to it, the Emperor did not venture further in this direction to search.
Having vented his madness, he accepted a handkerchief handed to him by an eunuch to wipe his hands.
“Dispose of all of these.”
“Yes.”
Tossing the soiled handkerchief onto the ground at will, he turned and left without looking back once. After he had gone, Song Heting brought the thoroughly terrified and limp Lü Yanghua back to Ningzhu Courtyard.
Neither of them said a word. Lanzhi had already gone to bed as previously instructed and did not come out. Song Heting poured a cup of warm tea for Lü Yanghua and took the extinguished lantern—which she had been clutching tightly—from her hand.
Looking at Lü Yanghua, who was scared out of her wits and unable to recover, he spoke, “Do not be afraid. Everything is fine now.”
The room was deathly quiet, until the sound of Lü Yanghua’s quiet sobbing broke the silence. Her tears fell in pattering streams, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
Song Heting used a handkerchief to wipe her tears away. As if finding a pillar of support, Lü Yanghua threw herself into his arms, wrapping her two slender arms around his waist. Her soft body pressed against his, warm and tiny.
“How could it be like this?” She cried for a long while before squeezing out this single sentence.
Song Heting allowed her to hold him tightly, as though she were grasping a life-saving straw. His hand rested on her shoulder, and then his dry palm covered her thin nape, giving it a gentle squeeze to offer comfort.
“I found it strange earlier as well, but now I understand. This is precisely the secret of the Emperor that Godfather spoke of.” His voice was low and raspy, stating the truth in the tone of someone recounting a story. “I fear he is overly prone to slaughter and is already ill.”
“Heavens above.” Lü Yanghua shuddered once more. She naturally knew nothing of such matters; in her mind, she had no real concept of what a ruler of a nation entailed, holding only a vague notion that he was merely a husband she needed to please. Now that she had suddenly witnessed his true face, she was terrified to the core.
“Young Mistress, why don’t we just leave it at that?” Song Heting probed her, wanting to see whether she was truly willing to abandon everything for the sake of wealth and glory.
To his surprise, Lü Yanghua lifted her face from his chest. With the corners of her eyes flushed red, she spoke with firm resolve, “No.”
“Whether he is a man or a ghost, I am going to fight for it.”
How could she not know the dangers involved? With an Emperor so violent, remaining by his side meant risking step into a place of eternal damnation at any given moment. Yet if she did not fight or grab for power, other wolves would tear her to pieces all the same.
She did not want to die nameless in some forgotten corner of the palace, with no one left to collect her body after her death.
“It was all thanks to you today.” Lü Yanghua snapped back to her senses. How could Tingyuan have appeared there so coincidentally? Had she not prepared a spirit-dumbing soup for him?
Song Heting knew what she was thinking the moment he saw her expression. He spoke, “The soup Young Mistress bestowed had gone cold. I thought of warming it up, but then I saw you head out. Feeling uneasy, I followed behind to check.”
Song Heting lowered his head, appearing to confess with utter sincerity, “For following Young Mistress without permission, I ask Young Mistress to punish me.”
Lü Yanghua looked at him with a complex expression, and after a long pause, she repeated her earlier words once more: *It was fortunate that you came.*
Had Tingyuan not followed her, Lanzhi truly might not have needed to wait for her anymore. Not just tomorrow—from then on, there would no longer be a person like her in this inner palace.
“Did Young Mistress learn of something? Otherwise, why would you run to Xiaoxiang Garden so late at night?” Just because she let it slide did not mean Song Heting would do the same.
A flash of guilt showed on Lü Yanghua’s face. Turning her eyes away, she finally let out a soft hmph. “You refused to tell me the Emperor’s whereabouts all this time, so I grew a little anxious. Besides, my original intention was to check whether your injury was serious or not. Who asked you two to speak without closing the door?”
Without requiring Song Heting to probe any further, she had completely exposed herself with just this single slip of the tongue.
“Young Mistress, this is precisely why I did not tell you,” Song Heting said. “I was afraid you would not listen to anything else and rush headlong into danger, trapping yourself just like today.”
Lü Yanghua felt somewhat at a loss. “I… I didn’t know…”
“Therefore,” Song Heting interrupted her, tilting her chin up as he leaned close, speaking word by word, “You must do as I say—when to meet, how to meet, and what to do after meeting.”
“I will arrange every single detail for you.”
His gaze was as cold and deep as a frozen pool, causing Lü Yanghua to tremble all over, completely awestruck. She murmured softly, “Very well.”
Her submissiveness pleased Song Heting greatly. His thumb brushed across Lü Yanghua’s delicate cheek, wiping away the tear stains upon it.
After all this commotion, Lü Yanghua was undoubtedly exhausted. Having settled everything for her, Song Heting tucked in the corners of her quilt and bade her get a good rest.
Yet he saw her scramble back up in one sudden movement. Her movement was so hasty that her collar gaped open, revealing half of her exquisite collarbone. She grabbed Song Heting’s hand and said, “Go fetch the sandalwood box on the third shelf of the cabinet.”