Chapter 161

The entire imperial palace was now under Xie Zheng’s control.

For the time being, the coup on the night of the palace banquet had been officially announced as an act of treason by Grand Tutor Li and Wei Yan, while the emperor had supposedly fallen gravely ill from the shock. Everyone involved had already been imprisoned, though the exact charges would not be determined until the emperor had “recovered.”

The court officials all understood the truth perfectly well.

After the outrageous events that had unfolded during the palace banquet, the emperor’s “illness” was unlikely ever to improve. The Dragon Throne was almost certainly about to change hands.

Qi Min’s injuries were extremely severe. Gongsun Yin had ordered him to be temporarily confined in one of the imperial villas, guarded inside and out by heavily armed soldiers.

To seize the Divine Machine Battalion’s firearms, Qi Min had previously dispatched many of the Shadow Guards’ elite to the Western Garden. After their fierce battle against Fan Changyu and the Left Auxiliary Camp, those elite Shadow Guards had been wiped out almost to the last man. The Shadow Guards who had remained by Qi Min’s side had likewise been killed or wounded while shielding him from cannon fire and volleys of arrows. Only a handful survived, and they were now under arrest.

When Fan Changyu entered the palace villa, she saw a pale-faced man lying half-dead on the bed, coughing weakly.

She had never met Qi Min before. Since he was the young emperor’s uncle, she noticed the two resembled each other somewhat. Their features carried the same oppressive gloom.

He noticed her as well. After finishing his coughing fit, he leaned against the cushions and spoke in a feeble voice laced with mockery.

“General Yunhui? What a rare visitor.”

Though now nothing more than a prisoner, he still carried himself like the descendant of the Crown Prince of Chengde who had once stood on the verge of claiming the highest position in the realm.

Fan Changyu had no interest in exchanging pleasantries.

She got straight to the point.

“Seventeen years ago, during the Jinzhou Massacre, what exactly did Wei Yan and the Sui family do?”

Why had the Sui family refused to send reinforcements to Jinzhou?

And why, even after the Sui family later rebelled, had Wei Yan never exposed their failure to reinforce Jinzhou and their disastrous delay in the battle?

Qi Min lowered his eyes with a faint smile.

“They naturally… committed deeds worse than beasts.”

“Speak!” Fan Changyu barked coldly.

The smile at the corner of his lips deepened.

“With the Blood-Clad Cavalry’s efficiency, you’ve probably already found my concubine. If you want to know what dealings Wei Yan and the Sui family had, fine.”

“Let me see her.”

Fan Changyu rejected him without hesitation.

“Dream on.”

Her eyes were crystal clear, as cold and sharp as a blade coated in frost.

She still vividly remembered how, to prevent Yu Bao’er from falling into their hands, Qi Min had ruthlessly tried to kill the child.

Yu Qianqian had only just escaped his clutches. Fan Changyu would never allow her to see this scoundrel again.

Qi Min lowered his gaze.

“Then… I have nothing to tell you.”

Without warning, Fan Changyu drew her sword and pressed it against his throat.

“I didn’t come here to negotiate.”

After everything she had experienced, from the military camp to the imperial court, she had long since learned how to intimidate others with ruthless resolve.

Yet Qi Min merely smiled.

“Since I’ve fallen into your hands, death is all that awaits me anyway. If all General Yunhui wants is my life…”

“Then go ahead.”

He had even begun referring to himself as “I” in the imperial sense. Though battered and defeated, an innate pride still radiated from his bones, making it clear that if she refused his condition, there would be no further discussion.

Fan Changyu held her sword against him for two silent breaths.

Its edge sliced open the skin on the side of his neck, and beads of blood slowly emerged.

Yet not a trace of fear appeared on his face.

Frowning deeply, Fan Changyu finally sheathed her sword.

Without another word, she turned and left the palace villa.

—

The moment she stepped outside the gates, she saw someone ascending the white marble steps.

Snowflakes dotted the gold-embroidered brocade cloak draped over his shoulders. His face was as cold as polished jade, and his eyes were as dark as lacquer.

Fan Changyu paused in surprise.

“What brings you here?”

The chill in Xie Zheng’s eyes softened the instant he saw her.

Noticing that she wore only a thin suit of soft armor, he immediately removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

“I came into the palace to investigate something. I heard you’d come to the villa, so I came to see you.”

The cloak still carried his warmth, along with his crisp, snow-like scent.

Fan Changyu was much shorter than he was. Wrapped in the oversized cloak, she was almost completely enveloped by it, with only her radiant face and high-tied hair visible outside.

She looked rather like a young boy who had secretly borrowed his elder brother’s clothes—bright-eyed and handsome, yet still possessing unmistakable heroism.

She adjusted the cloak before walking down the steps beside him.

She told him about how the Sui family had forged the Tiger Tally and deliberately withheld their troops.

“I thought the Imperial Grandson might know something, so I questioned him. But he insists on seeing Qianqian before he’ll speak.”

The moment he heard about the forged Tiger Tally, frost instantly filled Xie Zheng’s eyes again.

“The palace maid from the Cold Palace also died three days ago.”

Unable to get any answers from Wei Yan, Xie Zheng had continued investigating Wei Yan and Consort Shu after leaving the imperial prison.

Fan Changyu wasn’t surprised.

“The emperor killed her?”

Judging by the timing, the palace maid had died shortly after New Year’s Eve.

Xie Zheng shook his head.

“I interrogated the eunuch who served Qi Sheng. After the plot in the Cold Palace failed, Qi Sheng went to seek Wei Yan’s protection that very night. The palace maid was the leverage he used to force Wei Yan to protect him. He wasn’t foolish enough to destroy his own bargaining chip.”

Fan Changyu looked at him.

“So it was Wei Yan?”

Xie Zheng said nothing.

His silence was answer enough.

Fan Changyu couldn’t make sense of it.

“Wei Yan killed the palace maid before Grand Tutor Li launched the coup. Was he afraid Grand Tutor Li would discover his scandal? Or did he simply refuse to leave any weakness in someone else’s hands?”

Looking at the snow blanketing the distant palace walls, Xie Zheng replied quietly,

“He’s always been ruthless. Since he’d already driven the Li family into a corner where rebellion was their only option, once he learned there was still another hidden danger in the palace, he naturally wouldn’t leave it alive.”

Fan Changyu recalled what Grand Tutor Li had said—that Wei Yan’s younger sister had been close friends with Consort Shu before entering the palace, and that Wei Yan had once served under the old General Qi.

That meant Wei Yan and Consort Shu had already known each other before either of them married.

Combined with the fact that Wei Yan had taken only a wife in name while living separately from her, the relationship between him and Consort Shu seemed increasingly suspicious.

She hesitated before asking,

“So… there’s an eighty or ninety percent chance that Wei Yan and Consort Shu really did have an affair?”

If it were false, why would Wei Yan have silenced that palace maid after taking control of the young emperor?

Xie Zheng remained silent.

He continued walking steadily through the heavy snowfall.

Without the cloak shielding him from the wind and snow, his tall, rigid figure somehow appeared a little lonely and fragile, just like the orphaned child he had once been.

After a long while, he finally spoke in an almost indifferent tone.

“Perhaps Qi Min was telling the truth.”

“Perhaps Wei Yan really did corrupt the imperial harem and scheme for the throne… and that’s why he engineered Jinzhou’s downfall.”

Fan Changyu looked at him.

Then she suddenly stopped walking.

“What is it?”

Xie Zheng turned back.

Fine snow had settled across his shoulders, and the black robe embroidered with a coiling dragon made his face seem as pale and cold as winter frost.

Without warning, Fan Changyu stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

Her voice was muffled but unwavering.

“From now on… I’ll walk the rest of this road with you.”

He had hidden his emotions well.

But in that fleeting instant, she had still sensed something was wrong.

After all, no matter how unforgivable Wei Yan was, he had also been the uncle Xie Zheng had called family for over twenty years—the only blood relative he had left in this world.

Yet that same relative was also the murderer of his parents.

How could he not be heartbroken?

Perhaps… he had simply forgotten how to grieve.

Xie Zheng lowered his eyes, quietly looking at the dark hair atop the young woman’s head.

She hadn’t thrown herself into his arms with much force, yet that small impact made his heart tremble.

A strange numbness mixed with a dull ache spread from his chest all the way to his fingertips.

He stood frozen for quite some time.

Only then did he slowly raise a hand, pressing it against her back through the cloak and drawing her completely into his embrace.

Tiny flakes of snow clung to his lowered eyelashes.

Stubbornly and earnestly, he said,

“Of course.”

“You’re not getting away.”

Snow drifted through the air like soft feathers as the two continued walking back side by side.

—

After learning that no more information about Consort Shu could be obtained from the palace maid, Fan Changyu paid a visit to Dowager Consort An on Xie Zheng’s behalf.

In truth, when Xie Zheng had first asked Gongsun Yin to use the Grand Princess’s connections to investigate the Sixteenth Prince, the person he had truly hoped to reach had always been Dowager Consort An.

Though the palace servants had changed generation after generation, Dowager Consort An had remained one of the few imperial consorts who had stayed out of political struggles ever since seventeen years ago.

She undoubtedly knew far more about the events of those days than ordinary palace servants did.

Perhaps because the overall situation had already become clear, once Fan Changyu explained her purpose, Dowager Consort An offered no excuses or evasions.

“I’ve known Consort Shu since our maiden days. Even now, I still prefer calling her by her given name—Rongyin.”

The doors of the hall were tightly shut, and the small Buddhist shrine was dimly lit.

Dressed in plain Buddhist robes, Dowager Consort An lit a stick of incense before gently replacing the intricately gilded lid of the Boshan incense burner with her well-maintained slender hands.

Thin wisps of fragrant smoke slowly drifted through the carved openings, curling lazily toward the ceiling.

After a brief pause, a trace of melancholy crossed her face.

“She always liked it when I called her by her given name.”

Fan Changyu sat quietly across the low table, silently committing Consort Shu’s maiden name—Qi Rongyin—to memory.

It truly was a beautiful name.

Dowager Consort An returned to the table and sat down gracefully.

Every movement she made carried the elegance and composure that only the passing years could bestow.

“We entered the palace together. Because of Empress Dowager Qi, she was immediately granted the rank of Consort, while I was only made a Jieyu.”

“At that time, Noble Consort Jia was the late emperor’s favorite. Every woman who caught His Majesty’s eye suffered under her. Rongyin once helped me out of a difficult situation, and since we’d already known each other before entering the palace, we gradually became close.”

The sound of flowing tea echoed softly.

Dowager Consort An pushed a freshly poured cup toward Fan Changyu.

As if lost in old memories, she smiled faintly.

“Rongyin had an exceptionally quiet temperament. She never seemed like someone who had entered the palace to compete for favor on behalf of the Qi family.”

“But it was precisely because she wanted nothing that the late emperor wanted to give her everything. Noble Consort Jia resented her bitterly for quite some time.”

Her smile gradually faded as she shook her head.

“Perhaps it had nothing to do with temperament after all.”

“What man could see a beauty like her and remain unmoved?”

“When she wasn’t smiling, she was as aloof and elegant as a night-blooming flower. When she smiled, she blossomed as brilliantly as a lotus.”

“In those days, the capital’s greatest men were Wei Yan and General Xie—the twin pillars of civil and military excellence.”

“And among its beauties, Rongyin and Wei Wan were celebrated as the capital’s two unmatched flowers.”

Fan Changyu knew that Wei Wan was Xie Zheng’s mother.

Perhaps it was because Dowager Consort An’s calm voice carried the weight of years gone by.

Fan Changyu found herself completely absorbed in the story, cradling her teacup without taking a single sip.

“Life in the palace never truly made Rongyin happy.”

“No matter what rewards the late emperor bestowed upon her, they could never draw a smile from her.”

“She loved high places. The Star-Picking Tower was where she often went. Sometimes she’d stand there for an entire morning.”

“Later, for reasons unknown to me, the late emperor ordered the Star-Picking Tower demolished and neglected her for quite some time afterward.”

“I once asked her what she was always looking at from the tower.”

“She simply said…”

“‘I miss home.'”

Dowager Consort An poured herself another cup of tea.

After taking a gentle sip, she continued smiling, though there was unmistakable sorrow hidden beneath it.

“I never knew whether she truly meant those words.”

“But during her second year in the palace, Wei Yan married.”

“By the end of that year, he already had a son.”

“That year’s New Year’s Eve banquet, the late emperor had intended to bring Rongyin to meet all the ministers.”

“But she fell ill.”

“In the end, Noble Consort Jia accompanied the late emperor instead.”

“Noble Consort Jia believed Rongyin had finally admitted defeat, and she strutted around proudly for quite some time.”

“During that period, the palace was actually much more peaceful.”

Fan Changyu had already begun to suspect the truth.

She asked quietly,

“Did Consort Shu’s death… really have something to do with Wei Yan?”