Absurd!
Those were the only two words left in Emperor Yongzhao’s mind, pounding against his temples until they throbbed.
What he had thought was control had been her calculation.
What he had thought was a favor had been her test.
What he had thought was anger had been the answer she wanted.
And he had truly walked, step by step, straight into the trap she had laid.
She had played him completely in the palm of her hand!
How utterly ridiculous!
His killing intent did not erupt outward.
Instead, it sank into his chest, then climbed into his eyes.
Kill her.
Kill her!
Emperor Yongzhao tightened his five fingers and once again seized that slender, fragile neck.
Yes.
Just like this…
Kill her, and everything could return to the way it had been!
But…
Just as his fingers were about to crush the bones of her throat—
The curse that had haunted him suddenly came shrieking back as her breathing weakened.
The candlelight dragged countless distorted streaks of light across his vision, like golden venomous snakes gnawing at his nerves.
The wind passing beneath the eaves turned into blades, scraping repeatedly through his skull.
The patterns of gold and silver threads became so painfully distinct that they seemed to burn countless tiny points of agony across his skin.
Everything beneath heaven became an instrument of torture.
He… couldn’t kill her.
That realization humiliated him more than having every one of his secrets seen through.
It filled him with despair.
Like being slowly sliced apart with a blunt knife.
Cruel beyond measure.
Emperor Yongzhao abruptly released his hand.
His fingertips began to spasm and tremble uncontrollably.
“Cough… cough, cough, cough!”
Fresh air flooded into her lungs.
Song Ying collapsed forward onto the ground, coughing so violently it seemed to tear through her chest.
Her shoulders and back shook with every desperate breath, tiny tears sliding down her cheeks.
She looked exactly like a butterfly with broken wings caught in a violent storm.
But what Emperor Yongzhao saw was a vicious wolf that had just won a fight to the death and was now lowering its head to lick its sharp fangs.
He staggered backward.
One step.
Then another.
He had lost.
Lost so completely that nothing remained.
He wanted to roar.
He wanted to overturn everything around him.
He wanted to drag her down into hell with him, condemned beyond redemption for all eternity!
But all that surging rage, all that boiling killing intent, ultimately jammed in his throat, strangled by an even fiercer fear—
He couldn’t live without her.
“…Get out.”
His voice was hoarse, so quiet it was almost inaudible.
He turned his back on her and stopped looking at her.
He didn’t dare look at her again.
One more glance, and that helplessness, that suffocating sense of powerlessness, would crush him completely.
Then came a much louder roar.
“Get out!”
Amid the furious shout, Song Ying struggled away and crawled behind one of the corridor pillars before finally using it to steady herself and stand.
The numbness in her knees and the dull ache in her throat made her vision darken.
“Little Miss Song.”
At some point, Eunuch Runde had appeared beside her.
He held out a soft handkerchief, his expression complicated beyond words.
“His Majesty… is still angry.” He lowered his voice. “Come with this old servant for now.”
Song Ying accepted the handkerchief and carelessly dabbed at the tears she had coughed out from the corners of her eyes.
“Thank you, Eunuch,” she rasped.
The moment her fingers touched her neck, the burning pain made them shrink back slightly.
That layer of window paper had to be pierced sooner or later.
It was better for her to do it herself.
If she didn’t risk everything, how could she ever test the limits of that damned emperor?
She had won the gamble.
—Emperor Yongzhao truly couldn’t bear to kill her.
But her family was still waiting for her.
She had vanished without a word after leaving home.
Would her father and mother fall seriously ill from worry?
Would they wear themselves down waiting for news?
Song Ying didn’t dare think about it.
It wasn’t as though she had never brought it up with that damned emperor.
But the way he looked at her was as though he were looking at some carefully maintained object.
He allowed her days off.
He let her choose freely from three meals a day.
All of it was simply to keep this body of hers “pure” and “clean.”
That was why Song Ying could no longer find a booklet and scribble or draw in it as she had before entering the palace.
Because the scent of ink would contaminate her fragrance.
All she could do to pass the time was make decorative knots.
—Song Ying understood perfectly well that Emperor Yongzhao’s needs would always come before her wishes.
She couldn’t even write a letter home.
Let alone return home.
Since there was nowhere left to retreat, all she could do was gamble.
The “couldn’t bear to” that she had won today would become the stake for her next round.
Eunuch Runde led her along the palace road and sighed.
“In a few days, it will be His Majesty’s birthday. Every office and courtyard is so busy their feet barely touch the ground, especially the imperial kitchen.”
“Miss, why don’t you… go to the Imperial Food Service for a while and stay out of the way? It would count as changing places while still helping ease His Majesty’s burdens.”
He paused, turned to look at Song Ying, and spoke pointedly.
“His Majesty also needs a way to step down once his anger passes. Miss, do you understand what this old servant means?”
The final step of her escape plan was right there in the Imperial Food Service.
Song Ying’s heart stirred.
Even the heavens were helping her.
She lowered her long lashes, hiding the delight in her eyes, and obediently curtsied.
“I’ll leave everything to Eunuch’s arrangements.”
The Imperial Food Service was the place in the palace most skilled at judging people and treating them according to status.
The moment Song Ying’s name was passed along, everyone pricked up their ears.
—One of the twelve selected maidens, yet also a fourth-rank palace maid serving at Wanchun Hall.
Those two completely contradictory identities should have made her a joke when placed on the same person.
Yet because she was the only one of her kind, they somehow gave her a weight that others could not hope to reach.
Song Ying was slender and delicate, with clear, pretty features.
Standing among a group of broad-shouldered, thick-waisted cooks, she looked like a flower that had somehow fallen into a vegetable market.
And so, the moment she arrived, she was invited into the pastry section, which specialized in delicate pastries, without having to touch even the slightest trace of greasy heavy work.
Perhaps Eunuch Runde had already spoken to them.
Everyone understood the situation perfectly well and silently assumed that Song Ying wouldn’t remain at the Imperial Food Service for long.
Song Ying also knew exactly how capable she was.
Her half-baked kneading skills would only make things harder for people who could do the job better themselves.
So she was reassigned to serving dishes and arranging plates.
Walking around everywhere suited her perfectly.
It gave her the chance to plan something important.
Today, Eunuch Runde came as usual to deliver the skin-soothing ointment.
“In two days, it will be the Longevity Festival. I’ve already arranged your duties. When the time comes, you’ll be serving and arranging dishes. Make sure you show your face before His Majesty.”
The injury on her neck had already faded.
Only if someone looked closely could they still make out the faint bluish-purple traces.
The Longevity Festival…
This was the day she had been waiting for.
That afternoon, Song Ying finished arranging a plate and handed the flower-shaped flaky pastries to a young eunuch responsible for carrying dishes.
Suddenly, a figure darted out from the side and timidly tugged at her sleeve.
“S-Sister Song.”
Song Ying glanced over.
The newcomer was a young eunuch from the imperial kitchen named Xiao Anzi.
He usually handled miscellaneous chores.
He was thin and frail, timid as well, and was constantly ordered around by everyone else.
“What is it?”
“Sister, c-could you help me?”
Xiao Anzi looked so anxious he was nearly crying.
“I… I’m clumsy with my hands and accidentally ruined several honey melons while carving them. They’re all meant to be presented as tribute… If anyone finds out, I’ll definitely get a beating with the boards!”
“I saw that Sister is good with her hands, so please… give me some guidance. Please!”
Song Ying got along fairly well with Xiao Anzi.
“Don’t panic.”
She nodded.
“I’ll go take a look with you.”
“Thank you, Sister! Thank you!”
Xiao Anzi thanked her repeatedly and hurried to lead the way.
The two walked one behind the other, passing through the bustling stove area and around the covered corridor piled with baskets of vegetables.
The farther they went, the quieter their surroundings became.
Without realizing it, Song Ying slowed her steps slightly.
“Where are the melons?” Song Ying asked.
Seeing that she wasn’t taking the bait, Xiao Anzi froze for a moment.
Slowly, he turned around.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he raised a hand and reached behind his ear.
His fingertips lightly hooked along the edge of his cheek.
Then pulled—
A sallow human-skin mask peeled away completely from his face.
Beneath the mask was an entirely different face.
Song Ying’s breath stopped for a beat.
She recognized that face.