9
The night was deep, and darkness shrouded the world. The moon hid behind thick clouds, leaving only a few stars to cast their faint glow across the vast, inky sky.
This was Prince of Rui’s residence, once home to Shen Jiaqing, the seventh prince of the fallen Dayan dynasty and the younger brother of the late crown prince.
Before the collapse of Dayan, the Prince of Rui’s residence was a place of grandeur and prestige, where countless people sought favor with its master. Born to the empress, Shen Jiaqing was destined for a life of effortless luxury, enjoying boundless wealth and honor simply by virtue of his birth.
Yet, no one could have predicted the sudden downfall of Dayan. In the blink of an eye, the empire crumbled, and Xiao Jingyao ascended the throne, ushering in a new dynasty. The once-revered son of heaven became nothing more than a prisoner, confined within these four walls—like an eagle with its wings cruelly clipped.
Shen Jiaqing sat in the courtyard, his expression despondent, clutching a wine jar as he drank in silence.
Just then, a tall, gaunt man in long robes hurried down the veranda. As he neared, he lowered his voice and called out, “Your Highness.”
With a loud crash, Shen Jiaqing hurled the wine jar at the man’s feet. Fueled by alcohol, he spat out his words in a drunken rage. “What your highness? I haven’t been a prince for a long time! That bastard Xiao Jingyao—he only kept me alive so you people could humiliate me! You’re all just a pack of dogs!”
Zhang Wei paid no heed to Shen Jiaqing’s outburst. Instead, he stepped forward and extended his palm, revealing a symbol drawn upon it. “Your Highness, do you recognize this mark?”
Shen Jiaqing glanced at it, and in an instant, his drunken haze vanished. His expression shifted sharply. “Where did you get this?”
That symbol… He knew it well. After his crown prince brother was murdered, their mother—fearing for their safety—devised a new, secret method of communication. Only a handful of trusted individuals were aware of it.
He, his mother, and his late sister, Yu Shu.
Shen Jiaqing’s mind reeled. Could it be… Yu Shu was still alive?
The mere thought sent a tremor through his body. His drowsiness evaporated as he grabbed Zhang Wei’s arm, his voice urgent. “Where did you find this mark?”
Zhang Wei replied, “The same mark was left at Linglong Pavilion and Xiao Sixi today. I thought it was unusual, so I came to report it to you immediately.”
Shen Jiaqing scrutinized Zhang Wei’s expression. This man had served him faithfully for over a decade, originally assigned by his mother. Even after the fall of Dayan and the change of emperors, Zhang Wei had never abandoned him, remaining steadfastly loyal.
Zhang Wei could be trusted.
Clearing his throat, Shen Jiaqing asked, “Did you see who left the mark?”
“No, I didn’t,” Zhang Wei admitted. “But I figured that whoever left it must be important—someone with a close connection to you. That’s why I came to inform you right away.”
Shen Jiaqing hummed in acknowledgment. “You did the right thing.”
“Then what should we do next, Your Highness? Should we respond?” Zhang Wei awaited his orders.
Shen Jiaqing hesitated. He couldn’t be certain whether the one who left the mark was a friend or foe. His gut told him it could be Yu Shu, but logic argued otherwise.
After her death, Xiao Jingyao’s men had scoured the northwest before eventually finding him and taking him to the palace. There, he had personally seen Yu Shu lying peacefully in her coffin—silent, motionless, and cold as ice. Not the faintest trace of life remained in her.
She couldn’t possibly be alive.
So, if it wasn’t Yu Shu who left the mark… then who was it?
Shen Jiaqing couldn’t think of anyone else who might have left the mark, so he decided not to act rashly.
“For now, do nothing. Don’t respond, don’t make any moves—just wait and see if more marks appear,” he instructed Zhang Wei. “This could be a trap, someone trying to lure us out. We must not fall into their scheme.”
“Understood.” Zhang Wei nodded.
Shen Jiaqing added, “Be careful when handling matters outside. Unless it’s something truly urgent, avoid coming here. Xiao Jingyao may appear indifferent toward me, but I’m certain there are eyes watching my every move.”
“I understand.”
“Then you should go.”
“I take my leave.” Zhang Wei bowed before turning and disappearing into the night, leaving the Prince of Rui’s residence behind.
….
Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, five days had gone by.
Following Yu Shu’s advice, Mu Liangzhe refrained from seeking help from any officials and instead waited patiently for Xiao Jingyao to summon them.
Unfortunately, much to his growing frustration, the emperor never did. The longer he waited, the more restless he became.
“Xiao Jiu, what do you think this Emperor of Daxia means by this? So many days have passed, and he still hasn’t summoned us!” Mu Liangzhe stormed in from outside, plopping down across the table with a frustrated sigh.
“The emperor is probably busy,” Yu Shu replied calmly, pouring him a cup of tea and motioning for him to drink and ease his impatience.
“No matter how busy he is, he should make time to see us!” Mu Liangzhe groaned, lifting the cup and downing the tea in one gulp.
Yu Shu glanced at him, then picked up the teapot and refilled his cup. “Third Brother, we are the ones seeking an audience. The Emperor of Daxia holds immense power—he’s not someone we can simply meet at will. We should be patient. When he decides to see us, he will.”
But Mu Liangzhe had long since lost his patience and wasn’t in the mood for reasoning. “I’m done listening to you. Who knows how much longer we’ll have to wait if we just sit around? Tomorrow, I’m going to see Prime Minister Liu again and ask for an update.”
To him, Yu Shu’s advice to wait was nothing more than a waste of time.
Yu Shu’s hand paused slightly as she held her tea cup, her gaze lowering. “If you want to ask, then go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—you’re not going to get any good news.”
Mu Liangzhe snorted, unwilling to believe her words.
Seeing that he had already made up his mind, Yu Shu didn’t press further. Taking a sip of her tea, she said casually, “I heard there’s a Fahua Temple in the capital that’s said to be very effective. I’m planning to go pray there tomorrow.”
Mu Liangzhe glanced at her and smirked. “We Xijiang people don’t believe in Daxia’s Bodhisattvas.”
“Can’t I follow local customs?” Yu Shu rolled her eyes at him and set down her teacup. “You know we’re in Daxia’s territory. What’s wrong with me praying to their Bodhisattvas? Besides, Fahua Temple has ties to the royal family. If I go and pray there, who knows? Maybe it’ll bring us some luck. Don’t you want to meet the Emperor of Daxia smoothly?”
Mu Liangzhe didn’t put much faith in prayer—he believed in taking matters into his own hands. But since his sister was so insistent, he figured there was no harm in letting her try. “Fine, fine, go ahead and pray if you want.”
“Then I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” Yu Shu’s face lit up slightly. Tomorrow, she would finally have the chance to take care of her own business.
Mu Liangzhe didn’t suspect anything and simply reminded her, “Make sure to bring enough guards with you.”
Yu Shu tilted her head, smiling. “Then let Lian Sheng accompany me.”
Mu Liangzhe hesitated for a moment before refusing. “No. Lian Sheng stays with me.”
He knew what Lian Sheng was thinking and wasn’t comfortable letting him go with Yu Shu. Keeping him by his side was the safest option.
“Forget it then.” Yu Shu didn’t argue. She had only made the suggestion to test Mu Liangzhe’s reaction. His refusal worked out in her favor—without Lian Sheng shadowing her, she would have more freedom to act.
It had already been five days since she left her marks at Linglong Pavilion and Xiao Sixi, yet there had been no contact and this unsettled her. She decided to visit the area around Fahua Temple the next day, hoping to leave more marks. If her mother’s remaining allies were still out there, she wanted them to find her as soon as possible.
At dawn the next day, Yu Shu instructed Qingli to bring out the Daxia-style clothing she had worn a few days earlier. She changed into it and ordered Qingli and the guards to do the same, disguising themselves as ordinary citizens of Daxia before heading out.
She still wore a veiled hat to conceal her face. After all, her current appearance bore an uncanny resemblance to her original self. In a place like Xiadu City, that could easily invite trouble.
The carriage pulled up at the entrance of the guest residence. With Qingli’s support, Yu Shu stepped inside, while the guards took their positions on either side. The carriage slowly rolled away, making its way toward Fahua Temple.
Before long, they arrived at the temple gates without incident.
Qingli was the first to step out of the carriage before turning to help Yu Shu down.
Yu Shu lifted her gaze. The Fahua Temple remained unchanged from before—the same red-lacquered doors, the bold golden characters spelling out “Fahua Temple,” exuding an air of grandeur and solemnity.
Only two or three carriages were parked in the spacious courtyard outside, suggesting that today wasn’t a major gathering day, and few visitors had come to offer incense.
Yu Shu, accompanied by Qingli, ascended the steps and entered the temple, the guards maintaining a discreet distance behind them.
Upon passing through the temple gates, they were immediately met by the sight of a large, round-bellied Maitreya Buddha, his beaming smile welcoming all who entered.
Yu Shu and Qingli stepped forward to pay their respects before continuing toward the main hall at the back.
Fahua Temple was vast, occupying an extensive area. The outer and inner halls each had three grand buildings, accompanied by various side halls, and behind them lay a lush forested mountain.
Yu Shu led Qingli into the rear hall, only to lift her eyes and spot a familiar figure up ahead—none other than the Daxia Emperor, Xiao Jingyao. She had only encountered him a few days ago and had no desire to run into him again, yet fate seemed intent on proving otherwise.
Xiao Jingyao had just finished his prayers. As he rose to his feet and turned around, his gaze landed on Yu Shu and Qingli stepping in through the doorway.
His brows furrowed slightly in surprise. Why was he running into the Ninth Princess of Xijiang again?
He had left the palace today to offer prayers for a departed friend. Due to the sensitive nature of that person’s identity, very few were aware of his visit to Fahua Temple. How did the Ninth Princess of Xijiang find out about it?
While Xiao Jingyao was lost in thought, Yu Shu was equally caught off guard. Why was she running into him again?
Doesn’t he have an empire to rule? Shouldn’t he be enjoying the splendor of his palace? What is he doing wandering around outside all the time?!
She instinctively wanted to turn and leave, but reconsidered. If she immediately fled upon seeing him, it would be far too conspicuous, certain to arouse suspicion. The smarter approach was to treat him as any other worshipper—ignoring his presence, minding her own prayers while he offered his incense. No interaction, no attention.
Having made up her mind, Yu Shu tightened her grip on Qingli’s hand and walked straight ahead.
As she brushed past Xiao Jingyao, her heart pounded like a drum, but she remained steadfast, not sparing him even the slightest glance. To her, he was nothing more than an invisible stranger.
A faint, familiar fragrance drifted past Xiao Jingyao’s nose. The scent stirred a memory in his mind.
This scent… It could only belong to Yu Shu.
Xiao Jingyao’s gaze turned cold as he scrutinized the woman kneeling on the cushion, offering her prayers.
The Ninth Princess of Xijiang has only been in Xiadu City for a few days, yet not only has she managed to uncover his whereabouts today, but she’s also learned of Yu Shu’s preferred fragrance. Whoever was feeding her information was quite capable.
He truly underestimated this princess.
A flicker of disdain crossed Xiao Jingyao’s striking features, his dislike and suspicion toward the Ninth Princess deepening.
Those who have a death wish never live long.
**