It was Di Yue standing guard outside today.
Nan Rao reacted swiftly, signaling quickly. Xie Mingyi moved fast, using the bed curtains as cover, her form vanishing into the darkness in an instant.
Nan Rao walked over slowly and opened the door. Under the soft moonlight, Di Yue stood in light armor, his hand already resting on his sword sheath. She furrowed her delicate brows slightly, feigning confusion. "What is it?"
Di Yue was taken aback. Seeing that she was safe and sound, he hesitated, then said in a low voice, "It's good that you're unharmed, madam. I just heard some noise and nearly thought—"
Nearly thought someone had snuck in.
Nan Rao listened, then probed casually, feigning nonchalance: "It's cold tonight. Why are you still out here, General? Would you like to come inside and sit for a while?"
Di Yue's face flushed with embarrassment. He raised a hand to rub the back of his head. "No need. I'm just patrolling the area…"
Nan Rao smiled lightly, hiding a soft cough behind her sleeve, but inwardly she thought: Di Yue is truly sharp—no wonder he's one of Pei Ling's trusted men. The fact that he claims to be patrolling yet appeared so quickly likely means Pei Ling had assigned Di Yue to watch her before entering the palace.
He really keeps a tight leash on her. Nan Rao felt both helpless and secretly irritated.
Her eyes darted rapidly, then she suddenly lowered her gaze and bit her lip. Her lashes trembled, her gaze timid and soft like mist veiling the moon. She spoke in a quiet, dejected voice: "It seems the General is unavailable… I was thinking—since the Chancellor isn't here right now, being alone is rather…" Her fingers gripping the doorframe unconsciously tightened, as if in distress.
Di Yue was stunned. Seeing her hesitant demeanor, he couldn't help but recall what Yan Boyu had told him earlier.
Yan Zhan had said that ever since the Princess fled last time, she had been overcome with fright and feared being alone—she would only settle down if the Chancellor stayed with her. Now that the Chancellor had entered the palace, her being alone would likely cause her unease.
That was also why Di Yue was the one standing guard here now.
Di Yue was fairly familiar with her.
Thinking this, he looked up at the Princess before him. Her black hair hung loose, her shoulders were slender, her waist delicate, her bearing frail and weak. She coughed softly now and then, looking utterly pitiful.
His sympathy grew, and he wavered. After deliberating for a long moment, he reluctantly agreed. "…Then I suppose I can keep you company for a short while, madam?"
Nan Rao immediately nodded with delight and opened the door to let him in.
The room was dim, lit only by a lamp or two. The warm candlelight silently mingled with the cold moonlight spilling in through the window.
Di Yue found a place to sit by the light.
Ever since Nan Rao had escaped last time, Di Yue had been consumed by self-blame, believing it was his fault for failing to notice the Princess's emotional state in time. Afterward, ashamed of his own recklessness, he had rarely approached the Princess again, worried that Nan Rao might hold a grudge against him over the incident.
This was the first time he had spoken with Nan Rao since that day. Di Yue's fingers rubbed against his sleeve, his palms inevitably sweating.
Normally articulate and talkative, at this moment he had no idea where to begin.
Nan Rao pondered for a moment, then took the initiative to start the conversation: "General, could you tell me… something about Princess Huayang?"
Di Yue hadn't expected her to ask about that. He paused before saying, "To be honest… I didn't see the Princess often in the past. Most of what I know came from what others told me… But one thing I'm certain of is that although the common folk say Her Highness Huayang was proud and domineering in her day, in truth, the Princess was… noble of heart and upright in character…"
Once he touched on this subject, he couldn't help but speak at length.
In the past, Nan Rao had listened to such stories as if they were tales from a storybook about someone else. But ever since she began to suspect she was the Princess herself, hearing them now stirred a complex mix of emotions.
Di Yue talked for a long while, then noticed Nan Rao's lashes lowered, lost in thought. He couldn't help asking, "What's wrong, madam?"
She hesitated, then said, "I was thinking—the Princess is so wonderful. The Chancellor surely couldn't easily forget her, could he?"
"Of course not!" Di Yue replied without a second thought.
Her smile was strained. Beneath the candlelight, her thick lashes trembled, faint tears glistening as if she were deeply dejected and disheartened. "The Princess was so beautiful. Even years after her passing, the Chancellor still remembers her fondly, his feelings deep and true. But I am but a humble woman of low birth, drifting without roots, and married before. If the Princess is the clouds in the sky, then I am like the mud on the ground…"
Di Yue was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected Nan Rao to think this way.
Why was she comparing herself to the Princess?
How was he supposed to explain that they were the same person, that she didn't need to belittle herself like this? Di Yue scratched his head, his expression conflicted and troubled. "Madam, don't say that. The Princess was wonderful, but you are wonderful too."
But Nan Rao remained immersed in her sorrowful mood. "The Princess and I are as different as clouds and mud. I imagine that's how it is in the Chancellor's heart as well."
Di Yue was again left speechless. It took him a long moment to realize—so this was what she cared about? It was because of the Chancellor? She wanted to hold more weight in the Chancellor's heart, was that it?
She had finally opened her heart to the Chancellor! Di Yue was at a loss for how to explain, yet simultaneously overjoyed. "Madam, if this is what worries you, then you truly need not think so much. Rest assured, the Chancellor's feelings for you are genuine!"
"But how could I ever compare to those noble-born young ladies from prestigious families, so full of learning and poetry…"
"How could that be? You have a gentle temperament, a kind heart, and you're beautiful too—I think you're better than all of them!"
Nan Rao lifted her eyes and asked softly, "But didn't you just say, General, that no one in this world could compare to the Princess?"
Di Yue was instantly stumped. He scratched his head, looking left and right, and stammered, "Ah, I… I… that's not what I meant…"
He scrambled to explain himself, his words coming out in a jumble.
Seeing this, Nan Rao appeared pitiful on the surface, but a trace of mockery gradually crept into her eyes—it seemed that even those around Pei Ling had long known that he had been deceiving her from the very start, and they were all doing their utmost to make her submit to him.
While Di Yue was frantically trying to explain himself, he failed to notice a shadow silently closing in behind him. The next moment, a hand blade struck hard against the back of his neck. Di Yue's eyes flew wide open, but before he could utter a single word, he collapsed stiffly to the ground.
Xie Mingyi stared at the man on the floor and said coldly, "Hypocrite."
He claimed to admire the Princess, yet he helped the Chancellor spy on her.
The more Xie Mingyi thought about it, the angrier she grew, and she couldn't help but give him a hard kick.
Nan Rao watched Xie Mingyi vent her frustration and couldn't help but smile. She didn't actually dislike Di Yue. He was merely carrying out orders, and he was a straightforward man. Perhaps he genuinely believed that she would only live well if she stayed with Pei Ling.
Nan Rao then thought to herself that she was fortunate it was Di Yue guarding her tonight—it made things easier to handle. Come to think of it, Pei Ling was a deeply scheming man, yet he could tolerate such a frank and guileless subordinate by his side. That was truly rare.
She crouched down and removed a waist token from Di Yue's side.
Holding it up to the candlelight, she examined it and discovered it was actually a token of the Imperial Guard.
"So he's not a guard of the Chancellor's residence after all," Nan Rao murmured, her mind racing. Di Yue said he was patrolling tonight, but his true identity was that of an Imperial Guard Officer—he shouldn't be patrolling the Chancellor's residence at all.
Could this mean that other Imperial Guards were currently stationed silently around the residence?
…Then how did Xie Mingyi get in?
The more she thought about it, the more unsettling it became.
A cold sweat broke out on Nan Rao's back.
She suddenly said, "I can't leave with you."
Xie Mingyi was startled. "Princess?!"
"Thank you for coming to find me tonight, but my own affairs shouldn't drag others down." Nan Rao made her decision swiftly, lifting her head to meet Xie Mingyi's gaze and speaking calmly: "Tonight is likely not as simple as it appears on the surface. If I go with you, there's a good chance neither of us will make it out."
Xie Mingyi frowned. "But Princess, if we don't leave today, there may never be another chance."
Since Xie Mingyi had dared to break into the Chancellor's residence, she had already prepared herself for the possibility of not escaping. To her, as long as the Princess was safe, that was all that mattered.
When the Princess had been in trouble all those years ago, she hadn't been able to stay by her side. How could she stand by and watch now?
She gazed at Nan Rao with determination, refusing to leave. Nan Rao's eyes went blank for a moment—whether it was sudden resignation or unwavering resolve, she smiled and said, "Even if I leave, so what? Pei Ling now holds immense power. If I seek refuge with others, I'll only bring trouble upon them, and if I rely on myself alone, I'll never escape anyway."
Better to face it head-on.
She lowered her eyes, her voice soft but resolute: "Besides, no matter who I am, I don't want to be a Princess. You needn't waste your efforts."
Xie Mingyi said, "This servant still doesn't understand…"
Nan Rao said, "Everyone speaks of how magnificent Princess Huayang was back then, yet in the end, she met such a fate. Clearly, being a Princess doesn't guarantee a good life. Even if I were to reclaim my title, could I truly protect myself in Luoyang? Moreover, fine robes and colorful garments are merely external trappings. As long as I can live in peace, that is enough for me."
Nan Rao had always known exactly what she wanted.
As someone who had lost her memories, she appeared adrift and dependent, yet she refused to simply go with the flow.
Xie Mingyi's heart trembled slightly. Seeing how resolute Nan Rao's words were—far more composed and at ease than the fear and helplessness she had shown the day she first learned the truth—she fell silent for a long moment before bowing to her once more. "Since the Princess has made up her mind, this servant will say no more. To me, as long as the Princess is safe, that is all that matters. But if the Princess remains constrained by Pei Ling, I will come to rescue you again no matter what in the future."
Nan Rao smiled faintly.
Since the danger outside was unknown, Nan Rao told Xie Mingyi to hold off on making any rash moves. She would go out first to scout and draw attention away, and Xie Mingyi could then seize the opportunity to escape.
Nan Rao tucked a dagger into her clothing, picked up Di Yue's waist token, and went out.
With the token in hand, everything became much smoother.
Although Di Yue was an Imperial Guard Officer, his relationship with Pei Ling was closer than Nan Rao had imagined—many people in the Chancellor's residence recognized his token.
Nan Rao possessed a delicate, elegant beauty. At first glance, she appeared pitiful and fragile, as weak as a willow swaying in the wind—a picture of utter frailty. No one could have imagined that this token had been forcibly taken from the martial arts-trained Di Yue.
Nan Rao hurried all the way to the entrance of Pei Ling's study. As before, she presented Di Yue's waist token, but this time she was stopped. "Without the Chancellor's written order, no one is permitted to enter."
Nan Rao said, "And what if I insist on going in?"
The guard replied coldly and firmly, "You cannot. You—"
Before he could finish, Nan Rao's gaze turned icy in an instant, and she snapped with a cold rebuke, "How dare you!"
The reprimand carried considerable authority.
Before they could react, Nan Rao questioned them coldly, "Are you all blind? I accompany the Chancellor in and out of this study every single day. I've been here more times than I can count. Even Chancellor Pei doesn't mind, yet you dare to block me with such dim eyes? What, do you truly believe I haven't obtained the Chancellor's permission this time?"
Nan Rao was naturally born with upturned eyes, the corners slanting upward—when she was affectionate, they were gentle and lovely, but the moment she cast a cold glance and lifted her chin, those upturned corners seemed like a cold blade drawn from its sheath, exuding an inexplicable air of dignity.
Combined with her truly intimidating words, she carried the bearing of the future mistress of the Chancellor's household. The two gate guards, who were seasoned enough in their own right, were momentarily stunned by her, frozen in place for a long while.
They were stationed here and indeed saw Nan Rao every day; they also knew the Chancellor doted on her greatly… If she lacked the Chancellor's permission, an ordinary woman would hardly dare to barge into the study so openly.
For a moment, they wavered in hesitation.
"Move aside, now!"
Her gaze cold, she barked again.
The two guards exchanged a glance and finally lowered their halberds in silence, stepping aside.
Nan Rao pushed open the door and entered the study.
As was customary, after nightfall when the palace gates were locked, the Emperor would no longer summon ministers to the palace. Moreover, Pei Ling held the esteemed position of Chancellor—without matters of great importance, he was not to be disturbed casually. Thus, when Pei Ling entered the palace that night, the eunuch leading the way, Lu Zhihe, explained as they walked, "A battle report arrived from the front tonight. There's movement in the north, and His Majesty is deeply concerned."
Pei Ling understood.
When he arrived, he indeed saw Grand Commandant Deng Si, Palace Secretary Chen Zhizhao, and Grand Tutor Yang Jin among those present.
A few days prior, Yang Jin's son, Yang Zhao, had been abducted by Pei Ling's men. When Grand Princess Cheng'an watched her son being taken away in broad daylight, she flew into a rage and was about to enter the palace to lodge a complaint. She had already set one foot through the palace gates when she heard that Pei Ling intended to send him to the Commandant of Prisoners' court, with the charge being "ordering servants to commit murder." If he were truly locked up there, it would be nearly impossible to rescue him.
The Grand Princess had no choice but to abandon the idea of making a scene before the Emperor. Instead, she intercepted Yang Jin halfway and together they went to stop the men, narrowly saving Yang Zhao.
The affair had caused quite a stir—countless people in Luoyang were watching in secret—yet in the end, it was quietly dropped.
The Yang family had swallowed another bitter loss.
After Yang Zhao was brought back to the residence, he was subjected to family discipline.
It was said that that night, Yang Jin personally took a whip in the ancestral hall and lashed his unfilial son severely. Yang Zhao, still unwilling to accept it, wailed, "That Pei Ling definitely has something wrong with him! Maybe I discovered some terrible secret of his—why else would he single me out? There really is a woman! Father, your son would never lie! I've been watching Pei Ling for sister's sake, for our Yang family!"
Yang Jin's face was ashen. "You dare speak still! You've shamed me completely!"
Yang Jin broke two whips before ordering his men to carry the unconscious Yang Zhao away.
At this moment, the moment Yang Jin laid eyes on Pei Ling, his face turned ashen once more, and he barely stopped himself from sneering twice as Pei Ling passed before him.
Emperor Chengshuo, Xiao Wenyan, took note of this. He had heard of the events of the past few days and was pleased to see the two men at odds—so long as no one ended up dead.
Unlike the undercurrents between Grand Tutor Yang and Chancellor Pei, Grand Commandant Deng Si sat to the side, coughing from time to time, appearing detached from the proceedings.
During the previous emperor's reign, because both the Empress and the Empress Dowager were women of the Deng clan, the Deng family had wielded immense power. But since the new emperor ascended the throne five years ago and Princess Huayang passed away, Deng Si had begun to frequently plead illness and shut his doors to visitors.
Though he held one of the Three Excellencies, over the years he had gradually ceded his authority to others.
Whether to protect his family or because he was truly unwell, Deng Si now kept a low profile, rarely even attending court assemblies. That night, he was only present by "barely propping up his ailing body."
After Pei Ling took his seat, the Emperor spoke calmly: "A battle report has just arrived. Another state in the north has chosen to submit to the Xiongnu. It seems the difficulty of the spring campaign has increased considerably."
The Emperor had summoned the Three Excellencies that night precisely to discuss this matter.
Deng Si said, "This old minister will speak plainly. I believe we should not go to war after spring arrives. These past two years of conflict have drained much of our resources. Now is the time to recuperate and avoid exhausting the people and depleting the treasury."
Palace Secretary Chen Zhizhao said, "I believe we must not act rashly."
The Emperor unconsciously turned his gaze to Pei Ling. In matters of statecraft, Pei Ling's insight was unique—he had almost never made a misjudgment. "What does the Chancellor think?"
Pei Ling said coldly, "Do not fight."
In previous years, given Pei Ling's decisive and ruthless style, he would have been the one advocating for war. His words now left Yang Jin momentarily stunned.
Pei Ling lowered his eyes slightly, his voice cool and unhurried. "In past years when we went to war, seizing the initiative in early spring was key. First, the warming weather and abundant rain favored cavalry raids. Moreover, after winter, warhorses were lean and starving, and early spring was precisely the critical period for livestock and agriculture. Striking then was best suited to disrupting the enemy's recovery and replenishment. Thus, during the late Emperor's reign, whenever we fought the Xiongnu, we often dispatched troops in the first month, winning a hundred battles in a hundred attempts—not merely due to the generals' merit, but determined by the strength of the state."
"But times have changed. At present, military pay is tight, warhorses are not in good condition, and without a single grain of supply, how can we launch a thousand-li raid and seize the initiative? Duan Hong died in battle not long ago, and morale is low. We must not act rashly. Moreover, if we are to send troops, who should be appointed?"
With the winter solstice approaching, the Emperor had already ordered the palace banquet to be more modest than in previous years—precisely because military funds were strained.
After Pei Ling finished speaking, Grand Commandant Deng stroked his beard and nodded, but Yang Jin said, "We may be resting and recuperating, but we are also giving the enemy a chance to recover. After more than a year of attrition, the Xiongnu must have little usable warhorses and provisions left. Now is the time to press our advantage in one surge, to prevent them from gaining any breathing room."
The Emperor wavered. He understood the reasoning behind Pei Ling's words, but now that he had lost the Duan family as a piece on his board, Pei Ling's power was at its zenith. If he heeded him entirely, he feared it would become even harder to contend with him in the future.
The capable military commanders available at court were now few.
When Duan Hong died in battle, the former Chief Equerry Sun Yu had dispatched troops in time and rendered meritorious service. The Emperor had already enfeoffed him as Marquis of Boyang and issued a decree betrothing his younger sister, Princess Rongchang, to Sun Yu's eldest son, Sun Chang. He had long intended to send this man on campaign after spring, and if he achieved military merit, to appoint him as the next Grand General.
But thinking was one thing—how many at court could truly match Pei Ling?
And how could he guarantee this one would not become another Duan Hong?
The Emperor's expression was grave, and for a long while he said nothing.
Pei Ling kept his lashes lowered throughout, his expression cold. He could well guess the Emperor's thoughts, and he knew clearly that no conclusion would be reached tonight.
After leaving Chongde Hall, Pei Ling took his carriage back to the residence and strode swiftly through the gates of the Prime Minister's mansion.
The wide sleeves of his official robes snapped loudly in the cold wind. The man's handsome, cool features were illuminated by the lantern light—elegant in bearing, refined and composed.
As he walked, he asked in a low voice, "Any movement?"
Li She, Right Supervisor of the Imperial Guard, who had been on standby inside the mansion, stepped forward and said, "Reporting to the Prime Minister, all is quiet. No unusual activity."
Li She had been dispatched today and had arranged for men to lie in ambush around the Prime Minister's residence.
These past few days, Nan Rao had been obedient and well-behaved, as if all her sharp edges had been worn away. But Pei Ling knew well that his princess had never been foolish, and her pride was unbreakable. A person who had declared in the Court of Judicial Review prison that she feared not even death by poison—how could she be cowed into timidity merely by an attack?
These past days, Pei Ling had appeared distracted, but there was an element of improvising along with her act.
He held all the winning cards, so he indulged her coquettish clinging, simply wanting to see what she was truly up to.
When he had discovered her at the inn that day, he had sensed something amiss, suspecting she had met someone, heard something, and that was why she had suddenly changed her ways.
Leaving the residence tonight was also deliberate.
Tonight, the Prime Minister's mansion was easy to enter but hard to leave. It appeared unusually lax on the surface, but in truth it was a trap to catch the turtle in the jar. If anyone dared to take Nan Rao away—whoever they were—the moment they stepped out of the mansion gates, they would be shot full of holes.
Though Pei Ling was not physically in the residence, no one would be able to abduct Nan Rao again.
He had expected to hear Li She's report and had raised an eyebrow, thinking there might be a big fish tonight. It seemed he had been overly suspicious. He walked unhurriedly in the direction of Nan Rao's quarters and asked again, "Has she been quiet tonight?"
Li She knew who "she" referred to.
He thought for a moment and said, "Lady Nan Rao was walking about tonight, seemingly taking a stroll to clear her mind?"
Pei Ling's footsteps halted.
He clasped his hands behind his back and turned sideways, his gaze landing on Li She's face. "What do you mean?"
Li She said, bewildered, "Just half a quarter of an hour ago… she took Physician Di's token and said she wanted to take a walk alone. I thought it was only a stroll, so I didn't stop her… Was it not with your permission?"
Given the closeness between Di Yue and Pei Ling, the patrolmen who saw the token had all assumed exactly that.
But Pei Ling's gaze suddenly turned icy.
Just then, someone came rushing in panic. "Prime Minister, something terrible has happened! General Di—General Di has been knocked unconscious in Lady Nan Rao's room…"
Nan Rao could kill an ordinary adult man, but there was absolutely no way she could silently subdue Di Yue, who knew martial arts.
Pei Ling was far too clever. He quickly connected the dots and turned, striding swiftly toward the study.
In the simply but elegantly arranged study, the light was dim. Nan Rao had followed Pei Ling here several times and was already familiar with the layout. Under the soft, bright moonlight, she lit the candles one by one.
Her gaze swept across every corner of the study, and she began to search carefully.
Time was limited.
Pei Ling could return at any moment.
Nan Rao hurried, focusing her attention on checking for hidden compartments and mechanisms. A man as suspicious as Pei Ling would never keep important things right under his nose.
Nan Rao's entire body was tense as she frantically rummaged through boxes and cabinets.
However, the weakness she had displayed before Pei Ling over the past few days was not entirely feigned.
At this moment, Nan Rao was completely oblivious to her head injury. She hadn't expected that rising too hastily from her crouch would send a sharp, needle-like pain stabbing into her brain, and her vision went black—she could see nothing at all.
Damn it!
Her body swayed, and with lightning-fast reflexes she reached out to grip the nearest bookshelf, her knuckles whitening from the force. She fought through the dizziness to steady herself, barely managing not to collapse.
Soon, the darkness receded, and her vision cleared once more.
Nan Rao furrowed her brow in pain, gasping for breath, unable to resist pounding her throbbing temple with her fist. For just a moment, she felt as though some vague image had flashed through her mind—too fast to grasp.
She rested for a long while before slowly straightening up.
Her shoulder accidentally brushed against something.
Nan Rao turned and discovered a hidden cabinet here. She raised her hand and opened it.
Inside hung a portrait.
A young woman in resplendent attire, with soft black hair and eyes like lacquered dots, stood amidst a profusion of flowers, holding a feather fan in her hand. Her slender neck arched in a graceful curve, her posture as proud as a solitary crane standing apart from the world, casting a sidelong glance with clear, bright eyes.
Her features were identical to Nan Rao's.
In the lower left corner of the painting, there was a small inscription:
— Painted by Pei Guanqing, autumn of the thirty-seventh year of Jingyuan.
The thirty-seventh year of Jingyuan.
That was six years ago.
This was what Pei Ling had painted with his own hands back then… a portrait of her former self…
Nan Rao stood for a long time, staring at the painting before her. No matter how Xie Mingyi had told her the truth, no matter how suspicious everything seemed, she had always clung to a sliver of hope.
Until this very moment, when she finally confirmed it with her own eyes.
She was Princess Huayang.
Her real name was Xiao Lingzhang.
She was no pitiful orphan—she was of imperial blood, daughter of the late emperor, and the once-renowned Grand Princess.
At that very moment, torchlight suddenly approached from outside, accompanied by hurried, chaotic footsteps.
Pei Ling had returned.
The moment the door was pushed open, a fierce gust of wind surged in from outside, whipping up Nan Rao's robes and long hair, as if heralding a raging storm in the depths of winter.
Pei Ling was followed by a group of people, and nearly all of them saw what was inside, realizing what had happened.
No one dared to make a sound.
Nan Rao stood in the bright, warm light, turning around without flinching or avoiding, meeting the man's heavy gaze from the darkness.
This time, she spoke first.
"I think we need to have a proper talk."