“Still, Her Highness was way too strange today.”
Once Duoming started talking, he couldn’t stop.
Dropping into an empty chair, he launched into an endless stream of commentary.
“I remember clearly. In the past, whenever the Princess saw our General, she’d act like he didn’t exist.
Today, not only did she invite him to sit with her in front of all those people, she even spoke up for us!”
“The things she said were incredible. I was so moved listening from a distance.”
“Oh, right!”
“She even helped the General up afterward!”
“My heavens!”
Duoming slapped his thigh dramatically.
His face was animated with excitement.
“Today really opened my eyes!”
“Six years! A whole six years!”
“In all that time, I’ve never seen a single young lady willing to get close to the General.”
“Forget physical contact!”
The more he talked, the more excited he became.
Turning toward Zhuihun, he asked:
“Hey, Zhuihun, what do you think Her Highness is trying to do?”
“Is she trying to recruit our General to her side?”
“Or has she secretly been in love with him for years and finally worked up the courage to confess today—”
“Aaaah! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
Duoming clutched his head and howled.
Only after seeing what had struck him did he instantly shut his mouth.
The culprit was none other than his master.
Immediately abandoning his relaxed posture, he jumped to his feet, hurriedly picked up the folded document from the floor, and scampered over to Xiao Ji.
With an awkward smile, he lightly slapped himself on the cheek.
“Your subordinate was wrong.”
“General, you know how I am. My mouth just can’t stop running.”
“Please be magnanimous and forgive me.”
Then he flashed a fawning grin.
“Besides, what I said was obviously nonsense.”
“What girl would ever dare like you?”
“If such a woman exists, she’d have to be incredibly brave.”
“Otherwise, absolutely impossible. Absolutely impossible!”
Zhuihun looked at Duoming as though staring at an idiot.
Did this fool hear himself?
Was that even something a human being should say?
Still…
The Princess had helped the General up?
How?
When?
Why hadn’t he seen it?
And afterward?
Did sparks fly like in those romance storybooks sold on the streets?
Did they lock eyes beneath the moonlight and fall hopelessly in love?
Xiao Ji spoke.
“Investigate.”
“When did the Princess learn martial arts?”
“And who taught her?”
After that, he said nothing more.
Understood.
Zhuihun immediately knew there was no romance to speculate about.
Suppressing his increasingly absurd thoughts, he cupped his fists.
“I’ll see to it immediately.”
He then dragged the chatterbox Duoming out of the study with him.
Silence returned.
Xiao Ji reopened one of the memorials on his desk.
Rows upon rows of densely packed characters filled the page.
Yet no matter how hard he tried to focus, all he saw was her.
The way she had spoken those forceful words before the crowd.
The way she had smiled beneath the moonlight and casually waved him over as though they were old acquaintances.
The way she had swung her sword twice without hesitation, every strike brimming with killing intent.
The way she had abandoned her former gloomy, irritable demeanor and replaced it with radiant confidence and uninhibited charm.
…
…
Closing the memorial, Xiao Ji leaned back into his chair.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
Trying to clear his thoughts.
Trying to silence the distractions.
Unfortunately—
it didn’t work.
Even after a long time, the image of the woman refused to disappear.
Instead, her face became even clearer.
Her stunning features seemed almost real, as though she were standing right before him.
Those eyes, openly declaring their questionable intentions, stared directly at him.
Her red lips moved.
One “General Xiao” after another.
Xiao Ji suddenly opened his eyes.
His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed.
Deep within him, a stagnant pool that had remained still for years finally rippled.
In the quiet study, his deep, magnetic voice sounded almost like a sigh.
Part acknowledgment.
Part admiration.
“The most beautiful woman in Qingyan…”
“She truly is beautiful.”
Meanwhile—
at the Princess Estate.
A massive white-jade bath pool sat shrouded in drifting steam.
The pleasantly warm water was covered with delicate flower petals.
Shang Changge rested against the edge of the pool with her eyes closed.
Completely content.
Having several maids attend to her bath was honestly wonderful.
“Your Highness.”
Qingyao entered quietly.
As she spoke, her gaze landed on Shang Changge’s left shoulder.
There, she spotted the two familiar crimson beauty marks.
Only then did the weight in her heart finally lift.
Her voice became noticeably lighter.
“The two assassins have regained consciousness.”
“However, no matter what methods I use, they refuse to speak.”
“They clearly came prepared to die.”
“Should we continue interrogating them?”
Shang Changge didn’t even open her eyes.
“No need.”
She already knew exactly who had sent them.
“Go tell them this.”
“I don’t care who sent them.”
“And I’m not interested in finding out.”
“Tomorrow, when we enter the palace and appear before Father Emperor, all they need to do is insist that the Wen family hired them.”
The old emperor wasn’t someone she could deal with yet.
The Wen family, however, was another matter entirely.
She wasn’t completely certain whether Jing Xiuming would betray her at the last moment.
Adding another crime to the Wen family’s name would be safer.
Besides—
the Emperor would likely welcome such a result.
After all, someone needed to take responsibility for the assassination attempt.
A scapegoat was required.
Qingyao hesitated.
“Will they really cooperate?”
Given that she didn’t know the deeper political implications, the question was perfectly reasonable.
Shang Changge finally opened her eyes.
“They will.”
Then she smiled.
“Of course, if you’re worried, you can threaten them a little.”
“For example…”
“Assassinating a princess leads to death no matter what.”
“If the Emperor orders their execution, at least they’ll leave behind an intact corpse.”
“But if they refuse to cooperate…”
Her smile grew mischievous.
“Then they might lose something before they die.”
“Such as their manhood.”
The maids attending her bath all visibly shuddered.
They had been thoroughly frightened.
Shang Changge looked puzzled.
“What are you afraid of?”
“You don’t have one.”
The maids turned even paler.
Immediately dropping to their knees around the pool, they cried out:
“Spare us, Your Highness!”
“Spare us!”
Shang Changge: …
Was she some kind of monster?
Qingyao, already accustomed to this sort of thing, scolded the maids and ordered them back to work.
Just before leaving, however, Shang Changge called her back.
Surrounded by mist, she looked like a seductive spirit capable of stealing souls.
Yet those sparkling eyes were full of mischief and bad intentions.
“After you’re done, go to Mingxuan Hall.”
“Ask Jing Xiuming whether he’s prepared what I requested.”
“Oh, and tell him this.”
“If he accompanies me to the palace tomorrow, the charge of conspiring with Wen Wanyi to harm me will fall upon him.”
“Which means he’ll die.”
“If he doesn’t want to die…”
Her smile widened.
“He can leave the letters behind, pack his bags, gather his people, and run while it’s still dark.”
“There’s still time.”
“Understood.”
After confirming that her mistress was truly herself, Qingyao had returned to her usual unwavering loyalty.
She never asked unnecessary questions.
Whatever her master ordered, she obeyed.
The night passed quickly.
The next morning.
Shang Changge appeared dressed in a magnificent emerald-green gown.
Luxurious and dazzling.
At the estate entrance, she found Jing Xiuming already waiting to accompany her to the palace.
Seeing him, she teased:
“So the Divine Doctor isn’t afraid of death after all.”
She had genuinely expected him to flee.
The previous night, she’d ordered Qingyao to withdraw all visible and hidden surveillance around Mingxuan Hall.
She’d assumed he would have escaped under cover of darkness.
Yet here he was.
Jing Xiuming’s clothing matched his appearance.
Elegant.
Refined.
The robes he wore today, from their color to their embroidery, perfectly suited the image of a gentle young nobleman.
Shang Changge, meanwhile, was the complete opposite.
From the jeweled hairpins in her hair to the embroidered shoes on her feet, she practically radiated wealth.
Everything about her screamed extravagance.
Their eyes met for only a moment.
Jing Xiuming quickly lowered his gaze.
Concealing the turbulent emotions within.
His voice carried a faint, unnatural hoarseness.
As though he hadn’t slept all night.
“This commoner is not unafraid of death.”
He paused.
“But if I don’t accompany Your Highness today…”
“The things you wish to accomplish will not proceed so smoothly.”
He owed her too much.
Far more than just a single life.
Shang Changge said nothing.
She didn’t even spare him an extra glance.
Taking Qingyao’s arm, she stepped into the carriage.
She had already given Jing Xiuming a chance to escape.
He had chosen not to take it.
The weather in the capital was excellent that day.
The sky was brilliantly blue.
The sunlight warm.
The air fresh and clear.
A long procession of carriages stretched across the street.
With Qingyao’s command, the convoy began moving steadily toward the Imperial Palace.