Chapter 158: Confrontation (1)

Since returning south in March, Shen Xiling had not seen Qi Ying again.

That night at the city gates, he had promised to visit Fenghe Garden soon. But no matter how long she waited, he never came. Her letters to him were like stones sinking into the ocean—there was no reply.

It was as if he had vanished, even though she knew he was still in Jiankang, still at the family estate.

The lack of communication left Shen Xiling feeling deeply anxious and uneasy. But she was no longer the same as when she was a child, relying solely on his responses to know what was happening outside Fenghe Garden. She now had her own ways of gathering information, and it didn’t take her long to learn that the Qi family was in dire straits. She even discovered that Qi Ying had been stripped of his authority and was now essentially under house arrest at the family estate.

Upon hearing this news, Shen Xiling was overwhelmed with fear.

Perhaps no one understood this kind of terror better than she did, for a similar abrupt change had happened to her more than four years ago. That catastrophe had taken the lives of her parents and left her homeless.

She couldn’t bear to imagine such a fate befalling Qi Ying.

Her nights were sleepless, her days restless. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how she could help him, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t find a single solution. All she had was a bit of wealth, which was nothing compared to the vast power arrayed against them.

… She was still so weak, utterly useless.

Time dragged on painfully slow during this waiting period. The maids tried to cheer her up, but it was futile. Even they sensed something unusual in the air, and the entire Fenghe Garden grew somber.

The only thing unchanged was perhaps the lotus flowers in the pond.

They were in full bloom, emerging from the mud to blossom vibrantly yet serenely. A gentle breeze carried their fragrance, but alas, this year’s beauty went unappreciated, making the scene feel lonely.

Then, at the end of April, Fenghe Garden was suddenly surrounded by heavily armed soldiers who came to arrest Shen Xiling and throw her in prison.

This scene mirrored her childhood memories all too closely—another catastrophic fall of a family, another sudden intrusion by soldiers, another imprisonment. The only difference was that this time, it wasn’t a dilapidated courtyard but Fenghe Garden.

The maids who served her were accustomed to being treated with respect, having spent years serving the Qi family. They had never encountered such a perilous situation before and were trembling like leaves. Even the usually composed Shui Pei turned pale when seized by the soldiers. Panicking, she shouted, “Who are you? On what grounds do you dare arrest us?”

The soldiers paid her no heed, locking them up and roughly shoving them along. Zijun began to cry but still managed to muster a defiant retort: “How dare you! We are from the Qi family, serving Lord Qi Ying. If you treat us like this, don’t you fear our master will hold you accountable later?”

The Qi family had always been a source of pride and protection for the servants, especially the name of Lord Qi Ying. Normally, just invoking his name would solve any trouble they encountered. But this time, things took an unexpected turn. When the soldiers heard them mention the Qi family or Qi Ying, instead of showing deference, they sneered and said, “Accountable? Your master can barely save himself. Whether he’ll even have the chance to settle scores is uncertain. What makes you think he has time to worry about you?”

These words plunged the hearts of those in Fenghe Garden into despair, and Shen Xiling felt…

…an overwhelming coldness.

Shangfang Prison.

This was Shen Xiling’s second time entering this jail. The last time, her mother had been with her, and it was there that she first truly met the Shen family, listening to them endlessly berate her father—a cacophony of noise.

This time, it was quieter. Shui Pei and the others were not imprisoned with her; she was alone in a cell, her only companions the rats and the biting chill that lingered even in summer.

The only interaction she had was with the jailers who occasionally brought her meals. They entered with lecherous gazes, scrutinizing her up and down, reminding her of Yang Dong’s actions back at the southeastern manor. Fortunately, these men only looked—at least they didn’t touch—but their raucous laughter outside the cell walls still filled her with dread.

Such circumstances naturally led to melancholy, but more than her own plight, she worried about Qi Ying.

Never had she been so consumed with concern for someone.

She dared not imagine the hardships he faced, not even a little, but her thoughts kept circling back to him, over and over, obsessively. She wondered what he was doing now, how his family was faring, whether the eldest and third sons of the Qi family had cleared their names, if he had regained his position, whether he was eating well, if his stomach pains had returned, if he was exhausted, if he was enduring sleepless nights…

She thought about these things all day, from the first glimmer of light filtering through the narrow window of her cell until the sun set entirely, leaving the cell in complete darkness.

She quickly lost weight.

She had always been slender, but now she was so frail it seemed a mere breeze might sweep her away. Yet she couldn’t eat—not because the food in Shangfang Prison was coarse, but simply because she had no appetite.

She longed to see him, desperately so. But it wasn’t to seek his affection or comfort as she once had—it was because… she wanted to take care of him.

She wanted to protect him.

Shen Xiling leaned against the damp, cold wall of Shangfang Prison, silently crying.

“Oh gods above,” she prayed, “whoever you may be, please let me give everything I have to protect him.”

Perhaps this was the hardest separation she had ever endured.

Though these months hadn’t been long—only two since their parting in March—every moment stretched endlessly, gnawing at her heart like ants. Sometimes, unable to bear the torment of her cramped cell, she would force herself to recall happy memories. But she found that every memory she conjured was tied to him.

Even the memory of their first meeting, when he had been distant toward her, now felt precious.

Any connection to him, no matter how small, was beautiful.

Perhaps her sincere wish to see him moved the heavens, for one day, she finally left that cell.

Several palace eunuchs came to retrieve her, their faces expressionless, their demeanor stern. The jailers bowed obsequiously to them, but the eunuchs ignored them completely, coming only to escort her.

The head eunuch gestured with a slight tilt of his chin, and the others entered the cell, seizing Shen Xiling by both arms. Their grip was tight, causing her pain, but she was too preoccupied to notice. Struggling to stand despite her weakened state, she asked where they were taking her.

The head eunuch looked at her with a mixture of disdain and pity, replying condescendingly, “To the most precious place in the world. As for why, you’ll understand when you get there.”

Confused by his cryptic words, Shen Xiling tried to ask more, but the eunuch refused to elaborate, turning away with a dismissive, “Take her away.”

No sooner had he spoken than her vision went dark—she felt a black sack being pulled over her head. Her heart raced, but she had no control over the situation. She was led out of the prison, placed onto a carriage, and heard the rumble of wheels as they set off to an unknown destination.

Later, she learned that the “most precious place in the world” referred to the grand hall of the Liang Palace, where the emperor and officials convened for governance.

Many people she knew had ties to this opulent palace—Qi Ying, her father, the Left Chancellor, and the eldest son of the Qi family. And now, here she was.

The hall was majestic, like a coiled dragon resting upon golden steps. Its towering red doors exuded an imposing grandeur even greater than the Qi family estate, leaving her breathless.

Anyone encountering such a sight for the first time would naturally feel fear, but when Shen Xiling saw it, she felt none. She had only one thought: Qi Ying must be inside.

He must be there.

She would see him.

At the mere thought of him being so close, her entire being came alive. Her blood surged through her veins, and her frail body, weakened from days without food, suddenly found strength. She even walked faster than the eunuchs flanking her, surprising them.

She was brought into the hall.

The hall was packed with people—the emperor and countless officials, a bustling sea of faces glittering under golden light, like a scene from Buddhist scriptures depicting paradise. As the eunuchs pushed her to kneel on the floor, everyone turned to look at her. Their gazes ranged from curious to mocking, lewd to derisive—each unique.

But Shen Xiling saw none of it.

Her vision narrowed sharply.

She could only see Qi Ying.

There he stood near the front of the hall, close to the emperor due to his high rank as a second-rank official. Though he was far from her, obscured by the throng of officials, she spotted him instantly, clearly.

He had grown thinner…

She knew him so well that just his silhouette told her everything. He must have endured great hardship while she was unaware, for his usually well-fitting court robes now hung loosely on his frame.

Her eyes immediately welled with tears.

She knelt far from him, unable to see his face. Moreover, everyone else had turned to look at her—everyone except him. He remained cool and unmoving, never once turning to acknowledge her presence. It was as if he didn’t know she was there, and thus she never saw those familiar phoenix eyes that had captivated her heart day and night.

In that moment, a strange feeling arose within her: he wouldn’t turn around.

She didn’t know where this certainty came from, but it was undeniable and strong. It made her feel his distance acutely. Though they were under the same roof, separated by only a few steps, those steps felt like an insurmountable chasm. She gazed at him as if across mountains and rivers, unable to bridge the gap.

She felt a deep sense of loss and panic.