Luo Shuran maintained her composure and replied respectfully, “Your servant fears the heat. Seeing how cool it is here, I came over. I beg Your Majesty not to blame me.”
Just moments ago, sitting here, she had been thinking about how Shu Fei intentionally sought to sever the Emperor’s interest, repeatedly seeking favor in hopes that his novelty toward her would fade.
This was Shu Fei’s usual tactic, but this time Shu Fei seemed genuinely anxious. After all, novelty is indeed fleeting, but it also depends on whether one has had enough of it.
If a favorite dish isn’t savored to satisfaction, abstaining from it for a while only makes it more enticing.
Now, with the Emperor not watching the commotion outside but appearing here instead, wasn’t it just like that?
Qi Jingheng saw her behaving properly and obediently, his hands slowly lowering from behind his back. For some reason, he disliked seeing her timid and submissive demeanor, especially in his presence.
“I am here to inquire about your crime,” Qi Jingheng said calmly. Without looking at her, he strode past her and sat in the spot she had just occupied.
Luo Shuran’s eyes flickered slightly. She turned to look at the Emperor sitting there, took a few steps forward, lifted her skirt, and knelt on the ground. “Your Majesty, please forgive my offense.”
Chen An, who followed behind, remained silent, though he was somewhat surprised by Luo Shuran’s sudden admission of guilt.
In the past, concubines would only approach the Emperor, coquettishly brushing off the matter with a playful act, thus resolving it and even delighting the Emperor in the process.
But she, on the other hand, knelt and pleaded for forgiveness.
It was hard to tell whether she was genuinely honest or simply foolish.
Chen An instinctively glanced at his Emperor. Though the Emperor’s expression appeared no different from usual, his eyes seemed much deeper and more profound.
Based on his past experience, Talent Luo was likely to fall out of favor.
Qi Jingheng stared at the person before him, his gaze finally settling on her delicate, petite earlobes. It reminded him of the scene in the study where he had placed earrings on her, and in that hazy memory, he could almost smell the faint fragrance from her neck.
“Tell me, what crime have you committed?” Qi Jingheng lowered his gaze, resting his arm on the stone table and propping his forehead with his fingertips as he awaited her response.
Luo Shuran raised her head, the scattered sunlight casting a particularly pure glow on her face. Her red lips parted slightly as she spoke, “If Your Majesty says your servant is guilty, then your servant is guilty. There is no need to specify the reason.”
Her words sounded almost like a retort, but the sincerity in Luo Shuran’s eyes made it seem as though she wasn’t lying—she truly believed it.
Qi Jingheng had initially thought she would come up with some excuse or downplay the matter. He hadn’t expected her to respond this way, and for a moment, a smile escaped the corners of his lips.
Then, as if recalling something, the Emperor’s smile deepened, and a clear, hearty laugh escaped him.
Chen An lowered his head, surprise flickering in his eyes. Having served the Emperor for a long time, he knew the Emperor’s emotions were always restrained, and even when they fluctuated, it was often carefully calculated.
But today’s laughter felt somewhat different.
Luo Shuran did not smile. Instead, she frowned, as if unable to understand why the Emperor was laughing.
“Your Majesty, you are teasing your servant,” she said, her tone now carrying a hint of coquettishness, her fair cheeks flushing slightly.
Qi Jingheng narrowed his eyes, reining in his laughter somewhat, and gestured for her to rise. “I think you’re foolish. You haven’t done anything wrong, yet when I say you’re guilty, you truly believe it? Come here.”
Luo Shuran pushed herself up, maintaining her composure as she carefully walked over. Listening to the Emperor’s words, she inwardly disagreed.
Initially, hearing the Emperor speak of holding her accountable did cause a flutter in her heart, but upon reflection, what crime could she possibly have committed? At most, the Emperor likely wanted to know how much she had been involved in today’s events.
If she were truly guilty and began evading the topic or diverting attention elsewhere, it would only lead the Emperor to distrust and suspect her.
As Qi Jingheng watched her approach, she wore an emerald-green high-waisted dress, her snow-white skin particularly striking in the shadow of the rockery. The jade ornaments at her waist accentuated her slender, almost fragile figure, with curves in all the right places—every movement carried an air of grace.
Especially her willow-leaf eyes, shimmering like water. If they were to tilt upward, she would resemble a captivating enchantress.
No one could resist admiring beauty.
The Emperor was no exception.
Qi Jingheng observed her, reaching out to grasp her arm. With just that touch, he could feel Luo Shuran’s body tremble, her brows furrowing as if she were suppressing pain.
“What’s wrong?” Qi Jingheng naturally sensed something was amiss.
Luo Shuran immediately shook her head, smiling. “Your Majesty, this humble concubine is fine.”
Qi Jingheng could tell she was lying. He released her hand, but before Luo Shuran could withdraw it, he lifted her sleeve. There, on her right arm near the elbow, was a large, dark bruise, almost purple, spreading across nearly the entire limb.
One could only imagine how much it must hurt.
“What happened?” Qi Jingheng asked, his gaze fixed on her.
Luo Shuran looked up at him, her willow-leaf eyes curving as if to smile, yet tears welled up first. She forced herself to remain composed. “The other day, after serving Your Majesty with ink, this humble concubine accidentally offended Qi Zhaorong on the way back.”
She didn’t elaborate further. Some things, the Emperor would understand clearly. As a mere low-ranking concubine, how could she be so reckless as to provoke a Zhaorong?
Qi Jingheng’s eyes darkened as he held her hand. “Summon the imperial physician for treatment. Use the finest medicine available.”
Chen An could hear the Emperor’s anger and quickly arranged for someone to call the imperial physician. When he learned of the matter, he could guess that Qi Zhaorong had deliberately caused trouble, relying on her status as the mother of the Second Prince to stir up conflicts.
Luo Shuran stood close to the Emperor, able to smell the blend of ambergris and ink on him. She tried to pull her hand away. “This humble concubine is already fine. Your Majesty need not worry on my account.”
Qi Jingheng didn’t release her hand but instead shifted his grip to her wrist. Then he spoke, “Qi Zhaorong wronged you, so today you sought revenge.”
Hearing this, Luo Shuran knew her guess was correct—the Emperor would never truly trust anyone.
Luo Shuran lowered her head, unconsciously tightening her grip on his hand. “This humble concubine is timid. Since entering the palace, I’ve been cautious and fearful, not daring to act or resist.”
Qi Jingheng felt the chill in her palm and naturally recalled their first meeting—how sorrowful and fearful she had been. The next time he saw her, she was dressed as a dancer, performing.
She hadn’t wanted this, yet she had no choice but to comply.
Luo Shuran slowly raised her eyes to meet the gaze of the man above her. Her tear-filled eyes shimmered with light, so clear they almost reflected his image. “It was Your Majesty who saved this humble concubine, who bestowed favor upon me. Even if being close to Your Majesty makes me a thorn in others’ eyes, whether I am slandered, bullied, or used, I accept it all. Because compared to those things, what I fear most is Your Majesty disliking me.”
Her every word was soft, yet they stirred an unusual feeling within Qi Jingheng.