By An Jing Bu Liao
The emperor took a deep breath, sat up, arms crossed, and stared at the beauty beside him.
Jing Miaoyi instinctively tugged at the brocade quilt beside her, revealing only a pair of round, misty, shining eyes—like a raccoon cautiously peeking out.
The emperor raised an eyebrow, and all traces of displeasure at her repeated refusals vanished.
Now he understood why the empress seemed happier to see the “raccoon servant” than to see him.
“Jing Miaoyi, what other rules does your Jing family have? Tell me everything. Even the imperial family doesn’t have as many rules as your Jing family.”
Jing Miaoyi’s pupils constricted slightly. She pressed her lips together, trying to gauge whether the emperor’s words were meant in anger or amusement. “Your Majesty, rites are like the warp and weft, regulations like a measuring line; following them brings peace, breaking them brings disaster. Rules and rites restrain one’s words and actions, locking away desires so they do not control us.”
Got it. Not cute again. Like some old man.
He raised his hand and tapped her on the head.
Outside the room, Li Dequan mustered courage and called, “Your Majesty, it’s time for morning court.”
The Linhui Emperor sighed helplessly—destined to be a wise and mighty ruler, indeed.
A palace maid entered carrying a dark bowl of medicine and stopped in front of Jing Miaoyi.
To prevent concubines of low birth from giving birth to heirs, if a favored woman was “unfit,” she would be given a sterilizing potion.
Jing Miaoyi didn’t care and reached out to take it.
“Who prepared this?”
The maid replied, “It was prepared by eunuch Li.”
The emperor raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a smile. “Let that dog of a man come in.”
Li Dequan slinked in nervously. He saw the emperor from behind, arms wrapped around Jing Miaoyi, holding the bowl of sterilizing potion and gently blowing on it.
The emperor, despite being a ruler, was surprisingly considerate—men truly become thoughtful when dealing with someone they care for.
In the past, no matter how favored Consort Guo was, it was always her attending to the emperor.
The Linhui Emperor lifted the bowl as if to drink it in one gulp.
“Y-Your Majesty, no!” Li Dequan froze, kneeling quickly. “Your Majesty, this medicine is for Miss Jing. You absolutely cannot drink it—it’s harmful to your health!”
The emperor’s beautiful eyes sparkled with a smile as he stared at Li Dequan, who, sweating nervously, lowered his hands.
That smile—
“Since you know it’s harmful, why did you still have it prepared?” The emperor spoke with a grin.
This was exactly the kind of thing that sent chills down the spine.
Li Dequan had no choice but to explain, “Your Majesty, I was only following ancestral regulations. Miss Jing is not a palace concubine, and if she were pregnant before marriage, it would tarnish her reputation.”
Li Dequan was clever—he knew what to say and what not to say.
“Your Majesty, eunuch Li is only thinking of your best interests,” Jing Miaoyi interjected just in time, taking the medicine from the emperor’s hand.
The Linhui Emperor held her hand, resting his head on her shoulder. “If I cannot protect you, how could I protect the people of Da Qian?”
He glanced around and handed the bowl to Li Dequan. “I see your mind is always scheming. Drink this—maybe it’ll wash some sense into your head.”
“Ah?” The eunuch’s face contorted in pain. This medicine was for women; he was already powerless. If he drank it, he’d become even more effeminate.
“Hmm?” The emperor raised an eyebrow.
Li Dequan took a deep breath. So be it—granted by heaven’s grace.
Jing Miaoyi stepped forward and quickly drank the medicine from Li Dequan’s hands.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your compassion,” she said, knowing the emperor would be displeased—but she did it on purpose.
She had heard too many hollow words of affection. Unless the emperor offered something tangible, she would give him no hope.
The Linhui Emperor froze slightly. In the harem, every woman fought desperately to bear the emperor’s heir. Yet this woman, when offered the chance, refused.
Very well—Jing Miaoyi, you have some nerve.
“Miss Jing is so obedient, yet Li Dequan hasn’t returned her. How could a divorced woman remain in my Changsheng Hall? If word gets out, how would the ministers scold me?”
The emperor threw the Buddha jade pendant he had been fiddling with straight into the ice basin.
“What does the Treasure Department do? How dare they send such garbage to me?”
The emperor clenched his fist, and the familiar martial finger ring he always carried shattered with a crisp sound.
Everyone present was startled and knelt quickly.
“Your Majesty, please calm your anger!”
The Linhui Emperor looked at the women kneeling respectfully around him with no trace of regret.
Inside, a fire surged up.
Good. Good. Good.
The Linhui Emperor swept his sleeve and strode away.
Li Dequan, kneeling, wiped his sweat. “Thank you, Miss Jing, for defusing that. But you should still soothe His Majesty. You must know—no one can predict an emperor’s mind. Now that His Majesty likes you, you should seize this opportunity and secure your place in the palace.”
He hurried after the emperor.
He never spoke so much before, but Miss Jing had a bodhisattva’s heart—she even spoke on behalf of the servants. He had to remind her.
The emperor wasn’t upset because of her—it was because he thought he had an obedient pet, only to find the pet not only disobedient but also capable of biting.
There are plenty of people to pacify the emperor. She wasn’t needed for that.
Jing Miaoyi lowered her eyes and straightened her clothes.
Xiao Anzi carried someone out, glancing at Miss Jing in amazement.
To dare defy the emperor and walk away unscathed—she was the first.
Is Miss Jing showing beauty and fierceness?
Jing Miaoyi noticed the bloodstain on his face and frowned slightly, finally taking a bottle of medicine from her sleeve.
“Sir An, this medicine is good for your wound.” She pointed to the injury on his face.
Xiao Anzi froze.
The June breeze was slightly warm, yet at this moment it felt refreshing. Light filtered through the treetops like a sky full of stars, falling on Jing Miaoyi.
She wore a long peacock-blue dress, draped in an ivory-white cloud-patterned coat.
She seemed almost sacred.
A bodhisattva.
Xiao Anzi’s mind could only think of that word.
Even after Jing Miaoyi walked away, he hadn’t recovered. Only when Qiu Chan, a first-class palace maid from Changsheng Hall, tapped his head did he come back to himself.
“Were you stunned?”
Xiao Anzi lowered his head quickly. “Sister Qiu Chan jokes too much. Miss Jing is truly a good person.”
“Of course she is, though fate is cruel to good people.”
Xiao Anzi grew curious. “Sister Qiu Chan, you know Miss Jing?”
“Yes, in Qingzhou, everyone praises her as a living bodhisattva.”
At Yulan Residence.
Jing Miaoyi frowned slightly at the tightly closed gate. She felt a hint of unease.
By rights, Baozhu should have been waiting at the gate.
She carefully removed the gold hairpin from her hair and pushed the gate open.
“Waaah—”
Baozhu was tied to a pillar, gagged, her eyes filled with fear.
“Baozhu.”
Jing Miaoyi rushed over and tore the cloth from her mouth.
“Miss, be careful—”
Jing Miaoyi was about to move when a cold, sharp voice rang out: “Jing Miaoyi.”
She spun around and thrust her gold hairpin—but it was easily taken from her.
Ruan Xi’s eyes were cold, a smirk playing at his lips, watching her with interest.
“Duke Zhenguo, you’ve gone mad.” Jing Miaoyi forced calm.
“No, you should thank me.”
“You’re insane.” She turned to untie Baozhu.
Ruan Xi pressed her down. “Insane? Bodhisattva, that hurts my feelings.”
Jing Miaoyi pushed with all her strength, trying to get up, but before she could rise, a chilling force gripped her ankle and dragged her toward the back courtyard.
“Let go of me, Ruan Xi, you madman!”
Her struggle was like a kitten scratching.
Ruan Xi’s eyes gleamed with bloodlust, enjoying the bodhisattva’s helplessness.
The mottled blood on his boots, the tassel on his waist blade swinging like a funeral march—he was utterly unhinged.
Jing Miaoyi kicked with all her strength, but couldn’t escape. Each step felt like every whip strike from her past life.
Shivering uncontrollably, she summoned all her strength to kick his hand away.
She tried to get up, crawling back, her pale hands smeared with blood and dirt.
Before she could react, she was suddenly thrown, crashing onto the stone slab with excruciating pain in her waist and abdomen.
She struggled to stand, noticing her blue dress was covered in blood.
This… wasn’t her blood.
She turned sharply.
“Ah—”
She screamed and stumbled back.
People. Dead people. So many.
She had to report to the authorities.
Her eyes met Ruan Xi’s mocking gaze.
“It’s you.” She panicked, keeping distance. “You’re mad! Under the emperor’s nose, how dare you kill people at will? Who are they?”
Ruan Xi squatted before her, tilting his head, smiling strangely. “Bodhisattva, you ask me who they are? How should I know? You should thank me—if I hadn’t arrived in time, not a single soul at Yulan Residence would have survived.”
Jing Miaoyi drew a sharp breath, backing against a pillar, eyes fixed on him.
“Don’t believe me?” Ruan Xi feigned tears, “Bodhisattva, bodhisattva, do you really think I’m the only villain in this world?”
He released his grip. A single crystal “crocodile” tear fell from his eyes as he looked at her.
“Changqing, bring him up.”
Changqing’s face cold, pressed someone forward, kicking them in the knee to force them kneel before Jing Miaoyi.
Ruan Xi hugged Jing Miaoyi’s waist from behind, forcing her to look at the person.
“Tell me, who sent you?”
The man was covered in blood, swollen eyes barely open, gasping as if struggling for air, his jaw dislocated.
“Look at my mind,” Ruan Xi said, raising his eyebrow, signaling Changqing to put the jaw back.
“If you dare try to kill yourself again, I’ll cut off your head and leave it at the city gate. Do you think anyone would collect your corpse?”
The man’s pupils trembled as he weakly spoke, “It… it was the Princess.”
Jing Miaoyi shivered slightly. How could she forget? For someone like this small-time lackey, why would the princess bother? In the past life, one cup of poisoned wine sufficed; in this life, she still sent assassins so elaborately.
Ruan Xi bit Jing Miaoyi’s fair earlobe and smiled. “Want to kill someone?”
He pulled a dagger from his sleeve and placed it in her hand.
“Go ahead, Bodhisattva.”