“Miss Qu’s performance was truly remarkable. Had I not witnessed the lady wielding a longsword, taking lives without batting an eye, I might have been convinced.”
Qu Yi finally understood—this man had indeed mistaken her for her sister!
“Qu Qing? Qu Yi? The Qu Family? I truly cannot tell what is real and what is false about you, miss.”
The suspicion and wariness seeping through Jing San’s brief words made it impossible for Qu Yi to ignore.
Qu Yi lowered her gaze in thought for a moment. When she looked up again, her demeanor had completely shifted. Not a trace of shyness remained; her eyes were cold, her expression detached, and her every gesture now mirrored Qu Qing’s poise.
She lifted the teacup in her hand, gently rotating it. Her gaze seemed partly directed at Jing San, yet entirely absorbed in the intricate patterns of the cup as she asked indifferently, “I, too, wonder why Jing San has sought me out in such a manner?”
All Qu Yi wanted to know now was whether this Jing San was friend or foe.
“Haha, could it be that Miss Qu truly does not recognize who I am?”
Jing San laughed arrogantly, causing Qu Yi’s nerves to tense even further.
“It seems the Pavilion Master of Shumiao Pavilion is nothing extraordinary after all. Eagerly clamoring to enter the trap, yet failing to recognize the master of the trap itself.”
Enter the trap? Qu Yi pretended to focus on the cup while her mind raced. Suddenly, she recalled the conversation she had overheard yesterday between her sister and their father—that assassination plot intended to lure the enemy into a trap, which had left her trembling with fear.
“Is this cup more pleasing to look at than I am, that the Pavilion Master cannot take her eyes off it?”
As soon as Jing San uttered these words, he swiftly moved in front of Qu Yi, placing his hands on the armrests of her chair and looking down at her, trapped within.
Qu Yi’s expression remained unchanged. She raised her eyes coldly to meet his star-like gaze and parted her thin lips slightly. “If Your Highness does not admit it, how dare Yi’er presume to speculate?”
With Jing San’s use of the term “this prince,” Qu Yi could finally confirm that the man before her was none other than the current Crown Prince, Shang Jingci—an enemy who sought to coerce and confine her sister, not a friend.
Shang Jingci leaned close to Qu Yi’s ear, exhaling softly. “Since you know, why aren’t you armed? Aren’t you afraid?”
Qu Yi chuckled lightly, as if entirely unaffected by the deliberate pressure he exerted. “Why should I be afraid? Yi’er believes that the so-called ‘trap’ is both a restraint and a shelter. How could Yi’er use a sword to stab the one who shelters her?”
Shang Jingci’s expression softened slightly. He reached out, pinched Qu Yi’s chin, and tilted her face from side to side, wearing a half-smile. “My fourth brother was right about one thing—a lady like you would indeed make a fine mistress.”
This “fourth brother” likely referred to the thoroughly deceased Prince Zhen.
A mistress? How dare he say such a thing? No wonder someone of her sister’s temperament had fed Prince Zhen to the birds and beasts.
Qu Yi silently cursed in her heart, but her face betrayed nothing. “So, Your Highness caught my embroidered ball and now rushes to propose?”
A wide, yet utterly artificial smile suddenly spread across Qu Yi’s face. Gently, she pulled down the hand gripping her chin and, taking the initiative, wrapped her arms around his neck. Leaning in close to his ear, she asked softly, “I only wonder, does Your Highness favor Yi’er more, or Shumiao Pavilion more?”
Even in this act, Qu Yi felt a flush of embarrassment, her heartbeat quickening involuntarily.
Without hesitation, Shang Jingci wrapped an arm around Qu Yi’s waist and whispered into her ear, “If the Pavilion Master is willing to hand over Shumiao Pavilion, this prince will naturally favor Yi’er more.”
At this moment, the two were embracing each other, whispering intimately into each other’s ears. Anyone who saw them would surely think they were a loving couple, as sweet as honey. Yet, this exceptionally tender scene shattered completely in the next instant.
“If that’s the case, Your Highness should refrain from speaking ambiguous words or acting inappropriately,” Qu Yi said coldly, immediately pushing him away and glaring at him with considerable force.
Shang Jingci was taken aback for a moment, retreating awkwardly before sitting back down.
“If Your Highness has something to say, please speak plainly. After all, you and I are already tied together on the same rope.”
“What else could it be? Naturally, I’ve come to invite the young lady ‘into the trap.'”
Qu Yi pondered briefly before replying, “Very well.”
Shang Jingci laughed heartily. “The Pavilion Master is decisive.”
Qu Yi added, “But I have three conditions.”
Shang Jingci’s expression instantly darkened, his gaze turning obscure and unreadable. “Oh? Let’s hear them.”
“First, from now on, Shumiao Pavilion can assist Your Highness. I am willing to accompany you to the Crown Prince’s Residence, but the private affairs of my pavilion must not be spied upon in the slightest.”
“Agreed.”
“Second, our relationship is purely one of cooperation. There will be no marriage rites, and no talk of romance.”
“That is also acceptable.”
“Third, to the world, I am merely the legitimate daughter of the Qu Family, not the Pavilion Master of Shumiao Pavilion. Therefore, you must keep my secret. When I go to the Crown Prince’s Residence, I will not bring a single blade or sword, nor will I use any martial arts. I want your guarantee that you will protect my safety.”
Though Qu Yi’s tone was calm, her words were firm and resolute. Her gaze was clear and unwavering, meeting Shang Jingci’s eyes, which flickered with surprise.
“You trust me so much?”
“I do.”
These two short words were spoken without hesitation, almost casually, yet they left Shang Jingci momentarily stunned. After a long pause, he nodded and smiled faintly. “Agreed. All of it.”
“Since that’s settled, please return to your residence first, Your Highness. Once Yi’er has arranged everything, I will follow you into the trap.”
With his objective achieved, Shang Jingci had no reason to stay. However, as he reached the door, he suddenly turned back, wearing a flirtatious smile. “But having a beauty by my side without speaking of romance might be a bit too unfeeling.”
“If Your Highness wishes to succeed, it would be better to be more proper,” Qu Yi responded coldly.
Shang Jingci let out a loud laugh and strode away.
Seeing him leave, Qu Yi let out a long sigh of relief. The icy composure she had struggled to maintain melted away, and she picked up her teacup, taking several large gulps. Only then did her tense emotions gradually ease.
Today’s events had been entirely unexpected. Qu Yi dipped her finger into the tea and lowered her head, tracing something on the table. The side hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. After a long while, she finally seemed to have devised a plan, her expression softening slightly as she stood up and walked out.
When Qu Qing hurried back to the Qu Family, Qu Youyu was standing beside Du Youxia, holding a cup of tea and trying to console her. Qiao Shi had returned empty-handed, Jing San’s identity remained unclear, and Du Youxia was both anxious and angry, leaving her in no mood to be pleasant to Qu Youyu.
Qu Qing asked urgently, “Father, Mother, where is Yi’er?”
Seeing Qu Qing return, Du Youxia quickly stood up, wanting to tell her about the day’s events. But before she could speak, Qu Yi’s voice came from outside the door.
“Sister, were you looking for me?” Qu Yi approached her.
Qu Qing turned around, staring intently at her, her eyes dark and cold like the oppressive stillness before a storm.
Qu Yi had never seen her so angry and was frightened, her heart trembling. Struggling to maintain a smile that looked worse than tears, she took small, hesitant steps closer to Qu Qing. “Sister, what’s wrong?”
Qu Qing grabbed Qu Yi’s right hand. Her index finger had already grown a new nail, though it was not yet fully grown, only about half its length, while the part without the nail was exposed, revealing tender, congested, reddish flesh.
Qu Qing’s gaze shifted back to Qu Yi’s face, but her eyes grew increasingly dark and flickered uncertainly. Qu Yi knew her sister must have learned everything and was even more terrified.
She feared her sister might act impulsively and harm herself, and she also feared her sister might resent her for deliberately hiding the truth and no longer care for her.
At this moment, she was clearly more afraid of the latter.
Thinking of this, Qu Yi’s smile grew even more strained, as if she were afraid Qu Qing would turn and abandon her. She gripped Qu Qing’s hand tightly, lowered her head, and pleaded softly, “Sister, it’s all Yi’er’s fault. Please don’t be angry with Yi’er, okay? Yi’er truly knows she was wrong. Yi’er will tell you everything from now on, alright?”
Qu Yi kept apologizing, her searching gaze never leaving Qu Qing’s face.
Qu Qing’s persistently cold expression made Qu Yi unable to maintain her forced smile any longer. She lowered her head, hiding the desolation in her eyes, and when she spoke again, it was no longer the childish coquetry of the past but instead hoarse and tinged with tears.
“Sister, Yi’er is fine, truly fine.”
“Sister, please don’t be angry. Yi’er is really okay.”
“Sister, please talk to Yi’er, won’t you?”
“Sister, do you not want Yi’er anymore either? Sister, please say something, okay?”
Qu Yi dared not look at Qu Qing’s icy expression any longer. Her heart grew increasingly fearful, and tears poured down like a breached dam.
Qu Qing had originally prepared a barrage of questions and reprimands, but Qu Yi’s rapid-fire apologies gave her no chance to speak.
Qu Qing still could not understand why her sister, having suffered such grievances, was unwilling to tell her, why she could not rely on her more. She had clearly told Qu Yi she would protect her; she had said this to her sister many years ago.
Qu Qing sighed softly and reached out to embrace Qu Yi. Qu Yi, as if granted a great reprieve, burst into loud, childlike sobs, as if all the grievances and fears of the past days had finally found an outlet.
In Qu Qing’s mind, all the blame now lay with Shang Jieshi. Even a thousand cuts would not suffice to vent her anger. Even if he were dead, she would skin him and make a human-skin lantern, placing it over an oil lamp to be fried by oil and scorched by fire, never finding peace.
Qu Qing gently stroked Qu Yi’s head, soothing her, “I’m here, Yi’er. Don’t be afraid. Sister is here.”
Under her comfort, Qu Yi had gradually calmed down when, suddenly, for some unknown reason, she erupted into an even more deafening wail, so loud it startled a flock of winter birds resting in the trees.
Qu Qing thought she simply hadn’t cried enough yet. After a brief moment of distraction, she continued to comfort her.
But at this moment, Qu Yi’s heart was in turmoil, her mind on the verge of exploding—not for any other reason but the conversation she had just had with the Crown Prince. She feared she would have to deceive her sister again.
Qu Youyu and Du Youxia, standing nearby, were utterly dumbfounded. They exchanged glances, both seeing the words “extremely bizarre” in each other’s eyes.
Imperial City, Qinlan Palace.
The woman seated on the high platform wore a water-pink palace gown embroidered with gold thread, adorned with a pair of gold hairpins and tassels. A lotus-shaped forehead ornament graced her brow, and her light gray eyes resembled ink wash paintings. This was Consort Lan, who had held the emperor’s favor in the harem for over twenty years—Lan Wan, the legitimate daughter of the Right Minister and the mother of Prince Zhen, Shang Jingcheng.
“A bunch of useless fools!” Consort Lan roared in fury.
The young eunuch, having been kicked to the ground by her, tremblingly crawled back and clutched at the hem of her robe, stammering, “It is this lowly one’s fault, Your Highness must not let anger harm your health!”
“Report—” A guard hurried in, knelt, and said, “Your Highness, faint flames were spotted about fifty li outside the capital’s outskirts. When our men arrived, they found only a field of corpses. Their identities have been confirmed—they are indeed guards from the Prince’s Mansion, and… and…”
Consort Lan’s voice trembled. “And what else?”
The guard continued, “Among the bodies, two appear, by their features, to resemble the prince’s favored concubine, Hong Qu, and the other… seems somewhat like the prince himself… However, the mountain fire has burned the corpses beyond recognition. This subordinate is merely speculating; perhaps our men misidentified them.”