It was quite the coincidence.
Initially, Zhao Qihuang’s aunt had been confined to her sickbed, reportedly showing ominous signs. Yet, within half a month of Zhao Qihuang being brought back to the capital, her aunt’s health improved daily, gradually recovering completely.
Following this, the Old Madame of the Manor became a firm believer in the high monk’s assessment of Zhao Qihuang’s Fate. Zhao Qihuang’s treatment improved by leaps and bounds. The Old Madame treated her as the precious cornerstone of the family’s prosperity, ensuring she received the best of everything—food, clothing, and daily necessities.
Soon after, Zhao Qihuang’s aunt rose above the schemes and struggles of the imperial harem, soaring to become the current Empress. The Yongan Marquis Manor benefited immensely, achieving immediate prominence and becoming one of the most powerful and sought-after noble families in the capital.
Her Imperial Majesty the Empress doted on her like the apple of her eye. In the circle of noble young ladies in the capital, if Zhao Qihuang claimed to be second, no one dared to claim first.
With such favor, she could summon the wind and the rain. Zhao Qihuang could not fathom how her later life had become so utterly miserable.
Seeing that she hadn’t rested, Xiao Hong’s voice sounded from outside the curtains: “Commandery Princess, are you still awake? Were you perhaps frightened by the scene of the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate being raided today?”
Zhao Qihuang silently stared at the tassels on the canopy and sighed.
Frightened? It was more than just fright.
If it were merely the fall of the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate, she would certainly be shocked. But what truly terrified her was the dream, which was as vivid as real life.
In the dream, the masked man stood high above, giving a cold order: “Fire the arrows!”
Pierced by countless arrows. That heartbreaking pain still left her chilled to the bone even after waking up.
Thinking about it, the eyes of the man in the dream, visible through the mask—that lofty indifference, that icy control over everything—bore a disturbing resemblance to Wei Lanzhou, who had been in the prisoner cart today.
“Xiao Hong!”
Zhao Qihuang suddenly sat up, the silk quilt slipping to her waist. Her voice trembled slightly from the rush of emotion.
“I am here, Commandery Princess.” Xiao Hong hurriedly replied, “What are your orders?”
Zhao Qihuang stared at the halo cast by the pearl atop the canopy, her gaze flickering between light and shadow: “Tomorrow, go investigate exactly what crime the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate committed.”
“This…” Xiao Hong paused, then bowed her head: “I understand. I will go inquire as soon as dawn breaks.”
That night, Zhao Qihuang tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
At the first hint of morning light, she went alone into the study, locked the doors and windows tightly, and began carefully recalling the dream’s details.
In the dream, the Fourth Prince’s successful rebellion depended entirely on an extremely formidable strategist. He planned everything meticulously, building his campaign step by step. It was he who pushed the Fourth Prince onto the throne. It was also he who proposed the scheme to use the woman Li Mingxiao loved most as a Sacrifice to the Flag, to destroy the Emperor’s fortune.
But who was that person?
Zhao Qihuang clenched the wolf-hair brush in her hand, the cinnabar ink bleeding onto the rice paper. Although the silhouette should have been familiar, her memory was veiled behind layers of gauze. Whenever she neared the truth, an inexplicable resistance and chill surged in her heart.
Zhao Qihuang gritted her teeth. If she couldn’t see the path ahead, she would simply do the opposite! If becoming Empress in the dream meant endless torture, then in this life, she would never touch the Phoenix Seat.
As for the Fourth Prince’s strategist hiding in the shadows, the one who ordered her death by countless arrows to serve as a Sacrifice to the Flag… Her fingertips lightly tapped the desk, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.
If she could subdue him, she would use him for her own purposes. If she couldn’t, then she would make him disappear forever!
“Commandery Princess, the Second Miss is here,” Xiao Cheng’s voice softly announced from outside the door.
“I am unavailable,” Zhao Qihuang replied coolly, without raising her head. Her emotions were in turmoil; she had no patience to deal with others, especially Zhao Qiyun, who had always been antagonistic toward her.
Xiao Cheng received the order and was about to refuse entry, but then a commotion broke out outside the door.
“Second Miss, the Commandery Princess is currently…”
Before the maid could finish, the carved wooden door was pushed open with a squeak.
Zhao Qihuang’s eyes darkened. She slowly lifted her head.
She saw Zhao Qiyun in a goose-yellow chiffon dress, wearing her usual gentle smile. “Isn’t Sister free right now? You girls actually tried to lie to me.”
Zhao Qiyun wasn’t alone; trailing behind her was the capital’s famous First Talented Lady, the Grand Tutor’s legitimate granddaughter, Liu Wanru.
A cold light flashed in Zhao Qihuang’s eyes. She said coldly, “Zhao Qiyun, did your mother never teach you to knock before entering someone else’s courtyard?”
Zhao Qiyun pouted, a look of disgust on her face: “If it weren’t for Sister Wanru insisting on seeing you, who would bother coming to this dreary place?”
Zhao Qihuang frowned and turned to Liu Wanru: “What do you want with me?”
Unexpectedly, the normally dignified and elegant Miss Liu suddenly dropped to her knees with a *thump*, weeping profusely: “I beg the Commandery Princess to save Brother Jiming!”
“Jiming?”
Zhao Qihuang’s heart gave a violent lurch. Wasn’t the treacherous and ruthless strategist beside the Fourth Prince in her dream also referred to as “Mister Jiming”?
“Who is this Jiming you speak of?” Zhao Qihuang’s voice was shaky.
Liu Wanru lifted her tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling: “It’s Wei Lanzhou, the Shizi of the Duke of Zhenguo. Jiming is his courtesy name. It’s normal that the Commandery Princess wouldn’t know; only those close to him call him that…”
A thunderclap seemed to explode in Zhao Qihuang’s mind.
Wei Lanzhou?! The mastermind who helped the Fourth Prince ascend the throne in the dream and personally ordered her death—could it really be him?
She forcefully suppressed the shock in her heart and said coldly, “I cannot save him.”
Liu Wanru immediately burst into tears, moving forward to clutch her sleeve: “Commandery Princess! You are the Empress’s most favored niece, and you can speak directly to the Emperor…”
“The Wei family has suffered this great calamity; how can you stand by and do nothing?” She bit her lip, then suddenly lowered her voice: “Besides, Wanru knows that the Commandery Princess must hold Brother Jiming dear in her heart…”
“Silence!” Zhao Qihuang violently shook off her hand. “Miss Liu, mind your words! How dare you casually slander my reputation as a Commandery Princess?”
Liu Wanru was startled and retreated half a step, but quickly straightened her back: “If the Commandery Princess does not agree, Wanru will simply kneel here until I die!”
Was she trying to force her hand?
Zhao Qihuang sneered, slowly smoothing her sleeves. “Miss Liu, you jest. You are the Grand Tutor’s cherished granddaughter. I certainly cannot accept such a grand gesture.”
Although she spoke these words, Zhao Qihuang remained seated steadily, showing no intention of avoiding the kowtow or helping her up.
Seeing that her close friend was truly about to kneel down, Zhao Qiyun, standing nearby, couldn’t help but interject: “Sister, why be so petty? If you actually managed to save the Wei family, perhaps the Wei Shizi would be so moved he might take you as a concubine.”
Hearing the sarcastic, mocking tone, Zhao Qihuang grabbed the inkstone beside her and fiercely hurled it at Zhao Qiyun. Ink splashed all over her.
“My skirt!” Zhao Qiyun clutched her bruised leg, staring at her new tunic. She raged, “Zhao Qihuang! You—”
“Dare to say one more word,” Zhao Qihuang said, slowly wiping her hands, “and believe me, I will rip your mouth apart right now.”
Zhao Qiyun immediately choked on her words. She distinctly remembered the feeling of being pressed against the rockery and slapped several times last year in the garden, all because she had been gossiping behind Zhao Qihuang’s back. She’d hidden for three days afterward with half her face swollen.
Seeing Zhao Qiyun flinch, Liu Wanru cursed her inwardly as a failure, biting her lip and preparing to kneel again: “I beg the Commandery Princess for mercy…”
“What is all this commotion?” A voice as gentle as water suddenly drifted in from outside the door.
Everyone turned around. They saw a noblewoman with a circular bun adorned with kingfisher feather hairpins approaching gracefully. It was the Yongan Marquis Manor’s current wife, Zhao Qiyun’s mother, Lin Wangshu.