10
Ignoring Xiao Jingyao behind her, Yu Shu knelt on the prayer mat with unwavering focus, pressing her palms together in devout worship.
Today was the anniversary of her elder brother, the Crown Prince’s, passing. Given her current status, she couldn’t openly pay her respects at his grave, so she had come to Fahua Temple to pray for him instead.
After a while, she finished her prayers and stood up, glancing back to find that Xiao Jingyao had already left.
Good. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips—now she could continue her prayers undisturbed.
Leading Qingli, Yu Shu made her way to the adjacent hall, where donations were accepted. She stepped forward, retrieved her pouch, and took out a banknote worth a hundred taels, dropping it into the offering box. Then, she picked up the brush and paper from the nearby table and wrote down her name—not as “Yu Shu,” but using her childhood nickname, “Xiao Jiu.”
At the same time, when Qingli wasn’t paying attention, she discreetly left a contact mark beside the table.
Once everything was in place, Yu Shu bowed in prayer once more before leaving the hall with Qingli and heading toward a side chamber.
She remembered that there was a place in the side chamber where one could light an eternal lamp. She wanted to light one for her late mother, father, and elder brother.
They had been her closest family when they were alive, they had cherished her dearly, giving her everything good in the world. Then, her brother was killed by schemers, and her mother and father turned against each other, barely meeting again. Yet, their love for her had never wavered. She remained the most beloved and honored Princess Yu Shu of the Dayan Dynasty—until the dynasty itself ceased to exist.
Although the Dayan Dynasty was no more, and her father bore the greatest responsibility for its downfall, he was still her father. Her mother and the Crown Prince would always be her dearest family. Lighting an eternal lamp for them was the least she could do to express her devotion.
Following her memory, Yu Shu made her way to the hall where the lamps were lit. But the moment she stepped inside, her heart sank.
Damn it.
Xiao Jingyao—again!
Yu Shu felt like her luck had hit rock bottom today. Had she known, she would’ve checked the almanac before leaving.
She instinctively turned to leave, but it was too late—Xiao Jingyao had already noticed her.
“You—are you following me on purpose?” His tone was sharp with irritation. “This isn’t the first time!”
He had come to this hall to light a lamp for a close friend, only to find that the Xijiang’s Jiang Ninth Princess had trailed him here as well. Did she have no sense of propriety? The very sight of her was grating.
The disdain in his eyes, the clear contempt in his voice—it sent a surge of anger through Yu Shu.
“Who’s following you?” she snapped. “I came here to—”
She stopped herself just in time.
Damn. She couldn’t say she was here to light a lamp. If she did, and he pressed her to reveal for whom, she’d have no way to explain without giving herself away.
Frustration gnawed at her, but her mind worked quickly. Her eyes flickered with thought before she hastily changed her words.
“I was just wandering around!” she declared. “I’m not following you at all!”
Xiao Jingyao let out a cold laugh, his lips curling in mockery.
Did she take him for a fool? Her actions were so blatant it was almost insulting. Or did she assume that just because she was the Ninth Princess of Xijiang, he wouldn’t dare do anything to her?
Hmph. A mere backwater kingdom—hardly worth his concern.
“Stop following me,” he warned icily. “I know exactly who you are. And I know why you’re here. Do all Xijiang people lack this much basic decency?”
At first, Yu Shu panicked when she heard Xiao Jingyao say, “I know who you are.” For a moment, she thought she had been exposed. But when he followed up with, “You Xijiang Jiang people,” she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
So, he hadn’t actually recognized her.
Wasting no time, she quickly clarified, “I’m not following you, and I certainly don’t want to!”
Xiao Jingyao was clearly unconvinced. His gaze turned sharp, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge.
“If you follow me again, bear the consequences.”
Yu Shu was speechless.
Is something wrong with this man?
She had tried explaining, but he refused to listen. Now he was acting as if she were deliberately trailing him? Absurd! Did he really think she wanted to run into him?
“Excuse me, could you be any more self-absorbed?” she snapped. “Why on earth would I follow you? Who do you think you are? The road is open to everyone—I go my way, you go yours. Just because we happen to be in the same place doesn’t mean I’m following you!
“Does this temple belong to your family? Did your ancestors build these roads? If they did, go ahead and call out to them—see if they answer!
“And another thing—just because you have a half-decent face doesn’t mean the whole world is obsessed with you! Maybe take a good look at yourself in a basin of water before assuming everyone’s after you. What do you even amount to? A handful of nothing! Absolutely ridiculous!”
Having unleashed her fury in one breath, Yu Shu grabbed Qingli and stormed off.
Move, move, move!
They needed to leave before Xiao Jingyao recovered from the shock of being scolded. If he snapped out of it too soon, they might not get the chance to escape.
Dragging Qingli behind her, Yu Shu sprinted away without a single glance back, fearing that Xiao Jingyao might suddenly give chase and block her path.
Luckily, he didn’t.
He remained standing in the hall, unmoving.
The temple was silent, filled only with the lingering scent of burning incense. Xiao Jingyao stood frozen in place for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
And then, like a mirage, an image surfaced in his mind—
A woman in red, hands on her hips, chin raised high in defiance. With unwavering confidence, she had once scolded him in the very same way:
“Who are you calling a stalker? Which of your eyes saw me following you? Did you build these roads? Did you plant these trees? If you did, go ahead and call out—see if they answer you!”
“Could you stop being so self-absorbed and full of yourself? I’m walking my own path—how does that suddenly mean I’m following you? Maybe have a little shame for once!”
The woman in red hurled her words at him, let out a cold huff, then turned and strode away.
Xiao Jingyao stood frozen, watching her retreating figure in a daze. Almost involuntarily, he took a few steps forward, reaching out as if to grab hold of her.
“Yu Shu…”
Come back. Don’t go…
His fingers closed around empty air. Desperation seized him, and before he could stop himself, he called out, “Don’t go!”
“Your Majesty.”
Wei Zhuo, vice commander of the Imperial Guards, quickly approached. Sensing something was off, he asked, “The Xijiang’s Ninth Princess has left. Shall I have our men stop them?”
Wei Zhuo’s voice pulled Xiao Jingyao back to reality. The illusion in front of him shattered, and a sharp pain slammed into his mind like a wave. It took him a long moment to find his voice again.
“No need. Let them go.”
With a heavy heart, Xiao Jingyao turned back toward the long table where the ever-burning lamps were placed. Hundreds of lanterns flickered before him, their flames casting shifting shadows over his face.
In the far corner of the table, two lamps stood side by side.
One bore the name Shen San.
The other—Shen Yushu.
Wei Zhuo took a single glance before quickly averting his eyes. He knew exactly who Shen San was—the former crown prince of the previous dynasty, once the emperor’s closest friend. Since His Majesty couldn’t openly honor him, he had used this alias instead.
But the other name—Shen Yushu.
That was something far more dangerous.
She had been the most beloved Ninth Princess of the fallen empire. The one who had once held the emperor’s heart. The one he could never forget. The one he could never have.
Xiao Jingyao stood motionless before her lamp, his gaze locked onto the flickering flame.
Wei Zhuo, knowing his place, remained silent beside him, standing guard as a loyal shadow.
Wei Zhuo’s legs had almost gone numb from standing so long when he finally heard Xiao Jingyao’s low voice break the silence.
“Let’s go back.”
Xiao Jingyao turned and strode toward the temple’s exit, and Wei Zhuo hurried to follow.
The moment they stepped outside, golden sunlight poured over Xiao Jingyao, illuminating his figure. Whatever lingering melancholy had clung to him inside the temple vanished, replaced by the unshakable authority and decisiveness of an emperor.
“At Fahua Temple just now—aside from following me, did the Xijiang’s Ninth Princess do anything else?”
“She just visited the different halls, prayed, and made offerings,” Wei Zhuo reported.
“That’s all?”
“She also donated a hundred taels in incense money.” As he spoke, Wei Zhuo handed over the donation slip that Yu Shu had signed.
Xiao Jiu?!
Xiao Jingyao’s gaze froze on the name.
A name that struck him like a distant echo.
A name that belonged to her.
She had been the ninth among all her siblings—cherished by them all, their beloved Xiao Jiu.
Yet Xiao Jingyao remained perfectly clear-headed. He would not mistake the Xijiang’s Ninth Princess for his Xiao Jiu. That she happened to be the ninth in her family was her own matter—it had nothing to do with his Xiao Jiu. He wasn’t about to view her differently just because she had written those two characters.
If anything, was all of this truly just a coincidence?
A growing suspicion took root in his mind. The so-called chance encounters, the scent of her perfume, the deliberate act of donating incense money under the name Xiao Jiu—it all felt like a calculated attempt to draw his attention. If she had managed to uncover such hidden details, then she was far from simple.
“Keep watching Xijiang’s Ninth Princess,” Xiao Jingyao ordered, his expression dark as he handed the slip back to Wei Zhuo. “I want to know exactly who’s feeding her information. There are far too many coincidences surrounding her.”
And the more coincidences there were, the less they seemed like coincidences at all.
Wei Zhuo accepted the slip and bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The streets bustled with activity, vendors’ calls mingling with the chatter of passersby. Inside the carriage, the rhythmic movement suddenly came to an abrupt halt.
Wei Zhuo leaned out and inquired, “What’s going on?”
A guard quickly stepped forward to report, “A carriage has broken down ahead.”
“Whose carriage?”
“It appears to belong to Xijiang’s Ninth Princess.”
Wei Zhuo hesitated briefly before turning back to seek Xiao Jingyao’s instructions. “Your Majesty, shall I go take a look?”
Xiao Jingyao’s gaze darkened. That Xijiang’s Ninth Princess truly thrived on causing trouble—she couldn’t stay quiet for even a moment!
“Go check the situation,” he ordered in a low voice. “But don’t let yourself be seen.”
“Understood.” Wei Zhuo grasped his meaning immediately and stepped down from the carriage.
He returned shortly and reported, “The wheel on Xijiang’s Jiang Ninth Princess’s carriage cracked. When she stepped down, she seemed to have twisted her right ankle. She’s now sitting by a pancake stall, waiting for someone to pick her up.”
Xiao Jingyao let out a low hum of acknowledgment.
After a brief pause, Wei Zhuo hesitated before asking, “Should I send some men to assist her?”
Xiao Jingyao shot him a cold glance. “No. We’re leaving.”
Wei Zhuo immediately dismissed the thought and signaled the driver to turn the carriage around.
But just as the wheels began to roll, Xiao Jingyao suddenly spoke again.
“Stop. Go take another look.”
Wei Zhuo was momentarily stunned—His Majesty’s decisions were changing a little too fast!
Before he could gather his thoughts, Xiao Jingyao had already risen to his feet and stepped out of the carriage.
**