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After receiving the emperor’s favor, Ye Tingyan was moved to a private room within the Qiongting Library to recuperate from his injury.
The room was furnished with simple tables, chairs, and a bed. It was said that this setup was originally created during the compilation of the previous dynasty’s history. The historians worked tirelessly in the library, and there were two instances when they forgot the time for the palace gates to be locked. The late emperor praised them and specially permitted them to stay overnight.
However, the place was heavily guarded, and they were not allowed to leave the library.
Since then, apart from members of the royal family, no one else had stayed overnight in the Forbidden Palace.
The news that Ye Tingyan hadn’t left the palace due to his injuries and was entrusted with the investigation of the Western Garden murder case quickly spread. People said it was a sign of the emperor’s favor. Coupled with the rumors of him cutting off his old brand on Dianhong Terrace, it showcased the spirit of a scholar, further enhancing his good reputation.
Pei Xi couldn’t stay in the palace with him, and it was already late that day. It wasn’t until after the morning court session the next day that he could come to Qiongting to take care of him.
Ye Tingyan was still reclining on the couch but had dressed neatly. The palace attendants didn’t know; seeing someone come, they bowed and rolled up the bamboo curtain by the window.
The morning sun was bright and dazzling. Ye Tingyan glanced outside, raised his hand to shield his eyes, casting a black shadow over his face.
Hearing footsteps, he turned his head and saw Pei Xi, smiling: “Cuozhi, next time you come, bring me some cheese pastries from Fenglelou.”
Pei Xi silently approached with a food box, placed it down heavily, and opened the lid, releasing a sweet fragrance.
He sat on a stool by the couch, his face stern as he said: “I have important matters to discuss with Lord Ye. Please excuse us, everyone.”
The palace attendants didn’t suspect anything, closed the door, and dispersed.
Seeing them gone, Pei Xi immediately stood up, quickly pulled down the bamboo curtain beside Ye Tingyan, completely blocking the blinding early morning sun, then sighed in relief.
As soon as the curtain fell, Pei Xi saw Ye Tingyan’s expression change. He leaned back against the soft cushion, coughing heavily.
He covered his eyes, blinked a few times, and tears flowed freely.
Pei Xi hurriedly took a white silk ribbon to cover his eyes, then handed him a silk handkerchief to wipe away the tears and cover his face while coughing.
Ye Tingyan accepted it, his face still bearing tear streaks, but a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: “Cuozhi, Cuozhi, staying with a sickly person like me for so long, you’re becoming more and more like Master Zhao.”
Pei Xi called out in a low voice with a gloomy face: “Your Highness...”
Ye Tingyan interrupted with a chuckle: “Be cautious, be cautious. In today’s imperial city, where is there any ‘Highness’?”
Thus, Pei Xi corrected himself: “Master’s eye condition needs careful treatment, and light should be avoided as much as possible. In spring, even the early morning sun makes you tear up. If it’s already like this at 7-9 AM, what will happen at noon or in the depths of summer?”
“When I’m fine, I’ll wear this ribbon,” Ye Tingyan said somewhat guiltily, “Today is because—”
Before he finished, he couldn’t help but cough again, so he feigned complaining in between coughs: “Because of last night’s spring chill, coupled with my new wound. It’s already March, how can it still be so cold?”
Pei Xi suddenly said: “Seeing her, does it really make you this sorrowful?”
Ye Tingyan waved his handkerchief: “No, no...”
Pei Xi’s gaze swept over his shoulder and neck, pained as he said: “You are a person of great value. Back then, you barely survived death, and you still branded yourself with such a—such a—”
Tears welled up in his eyes, choking him into silence.
Hearing the sobbing, Ye Tingyan was startled and quickly patted his shoulder, comforting him instead: “It’s alright. Look, it finally came in handy, and no scar was left. It wasn’t in vain. Without it, how would I have concealed this sword wound?”
But Pei Xi grew increasingly agitated: “I’ve long advised Master not to return to Bianjing. Stay in Beiyōu longer to recover. We have power and troops. Once we expose the Emperor and Empress’s collusion to the world, you can lead the army to the gates of Bianjing, and everything will be as easy as taking something out of a pocket—”
“Cuozhi,” Ye Tingyan called his courtesy name softly, finally suppressing his jesting expression, “Do you think he has no power, no personal guards? Do you think a coup without meticulous planning can be fought so easily?”
Pei Xi didn’t respond, and Ye Tingyan continued: “Neither rhinoceros nor tiger, roaming the wilderness, pity our soldiers, day and night without rest. War, throughout history, has always been an act of desperation. When I read books in my youth, I despised warlike rulers. The world has enjoyed peace for over twenty years. Reflecting on history, even if I don’t become an emperor, I refuse to become someone I myself despise.”
At this point, he suddenly laughed bitterly: “Though now, it seems I haven’t fared much better...”
Pei Xi didn’t want him to continue down this line of thought and hastily interrupted: “His Highness was taught by Master Su to be a gentleman. As for this subordinate, only petty-mindedness exists.”
Upon speaking, he suddenly realized he had misspoken. Ye Tingyan calmly dropped the handkerchief, not correcting him again, leisurely leaning back on the cushion to close his eyes and rest, seemingly already asleep.
About a quarter of an hour later, Pei Xi heard the sound of the green-robed nobleman murmuring like in a dream: “Seeing her again isn’t sorrowful, just... a bit reluctant.”
•
Three days passed swiftly. Fearing delays would cause more trouble, the Inner Service Bureau retrieved the body, examined it quickly, and sent a eunuch to report to Qionghua Palace. They also brought the palace maid who witnessed the incident, changed her attire, and handed her over to Yanluo for assignment.
Coincidentally, Song Lan was in Qionghua Palace at the time. Upon hearing the report, both the Emperor and Empress were astonished—the female corpse found in the Western Garden wasn’t anyone else but Zhang Siyi from the former Qionghua Palace.
Zhang Siyi was originally an embroiderer. She was praised by the late emperor for her embroidery work on the crown prince’s ceremonial attire and transferred from the Lingjin Academy to the inner palace to manage the royal family’s clothing. Later, after Luo Wei became empress, she served as a lady-in-waiting responsible for clothing in the empress’s quarters.
She excelled in hibiscus embroidery, and Luo Wei once commissioned her to create a flower-sprinkled skirt.
Thus, even Song Lan had some impression of Zhang Siyi.
However, towards the end of last year, Zhang Siyi caught a cold. After recovering, she submitted a request to Luo Wei, expressing her desire to leave the palace and asking for the empress’s permission.
Zhang Siyi was only fifteen or sixteen when she started as an embroiderer and was younger than Luo Wei. At this age, serving as a close attendant to the empress held limitless potential. Few chose to resign hastily.
Though regretful, Luo Wei granted the request, bestowed silver money, and replaced her with a palace maid named Wan from the Shangfu Bureau. Zhang Siyi came to express gratitude before the New Year, saying she temporarily resided in the Shangfu Bureau and would leave the palace soon.
Those about to leave the palace naturally received little attention. After Zhang Siyi’s resignation, Luo Wei never heard of her again.
How did she meet such misfortune, and why was her body dumped in the Western Garden?
As Luo Wei expected, some rumors leaked out on the day of the Dianhong gathering. Some deliberately stirred up trouble in court, claiming unrest in the inner palace led to the murder case being revealed during scholars’ visits, directly targeting the empress.
The Censorate merely urged action, but Luo Wei’s reputation had always been excellent, so no one dared impeach the empress for incompetence yet.
However, if this matter wasn’t resolved, it would eventually fall to the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review, which wouldn’t benefit her.
The deceased was an old acquaintance. Unwilling to pin the blame on just anyone, Luo Wei decided to investigate further. To her rare displeasure, Song Lan erupted in anger in Qionghua Palace, scolding the Inner Service Bureau for taking three days to identify the body, questioning its usefulness. The young eunuch was scared witless, sweating profusely, and stumbled upon leaving.
The Inner Service Bureau handled internal palace affairs, while the Golden Sky Guard provided security, lacking experience in investigation. Not long after Song Lan left, Luo Wei heard that he ultimately handed the matter to the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review. Before filing the case, Ye Tingyan, still in the palace, temporarily took charge. If results were given within seven days, it would save a lot of trouble.
Former Emperor De set up the Jinzuan Guard to handle dirty tasks and confidential missions. Song Lan’s actions made Luo Wei guess some intentions—he wanted to emulate the previous dynasty by establishing an intelligence agency. A noble son with old ties and intellect coming forward provided the perfect opportunity.
Perhaps he was worried about lacking opportunities to do this. While officials focused on criticizing the inner palace, they didn’t realize the emperor’s plans.
Once the institution gained momentum, they would have no chance to obstruct anymore.
The young emperor, who had been docile for many years, finally couldn’t resist revealing his claws.
Ye Tingyan didn’t disappoint. Within four days, he uncovered the truth but didn’t report directly to the emperor. Instead, he discreetly sought out an unfamiliar eunuch to deliver a string of poetic tones to Luo Wei.
The young eunuch didn’t understand, looking troubled and distressed.
“Level-tone, oblique-tone, level-tone, oblique-tone, level-tone, oblique-tone, level-tone...”
After reciting, seeing Luo Wei’s meaningful look, he said: “This humble servant is merely a book sorter in the library, truly unable to comprehend. From dawn till dusk, Your Majesty, please forgive me.”
Yanluo was equally bewildered, but Luo Wei said: “Yanluo, reward him and send him off.”
She grabbed a handful of golden melon seeds. The eunuch happily accepted them, and Yanluo escorted him out. Upon returning, she saw the empress roll up her sleeves, casually pick up a brush, and begin writing a new poem.
“Hometown whereabouts, lantern flames flicker in the wind, gazing at flowers and moonlight...”
Dissatisfied with her writing, she threw down the brush, looked up to see Yanluo return, and smiled at her.
“Exceedingly wise, nearly demonic—” Luo Wei softly commented. Though she didn’t mention names, Yanluo knew she referred to Ye Tingyan. “Whether it’s good or bad remains to be seen.”
•
Between Qiongting and the inner palace lay a forest. Within it was once a terrace named Gaoyang, which had long been abandoned, more desolate than the Western Garden. It was unknown how Ye Tingyan knew of such a place.
After much deliberation, Luo Wei risked traveling at night before the酉时 (5-7 PM) palace gate closure. Fortunately, the journey went smoothly.
In front of the Gaoyang Terrace stood a grotesque stone sculpture. Passing by, Luo Wei gave it an extra glance, not recognizing it.
The pavilion inside was dilapidated, lit only by two candles in a golden candleholder. The flickering shadows illuminated only a small area. The inner hall was eerie, inducing shivers even on a spring evening.
Ye Tingyan, wrapped in a severe black cloak, stood before the candleholder. Under the warm glow, his face was snow-white, strikingly beautiful like a ghost.
Upon entering, Luo Wei saw him trimming the candle wicks with silver scissors, dressed in a palace guard uniform, presumably in disguise. Seeing her arrival, his hand trembled slightly, and a piece of candle heart with a flame drifted down beside him, extinguishing quickly.
“This humble servant pays respects to Her Majesty.”
He knelt respectfully, but Luo Wei remained silent, leisurely approaching and standing behind the candleholder to survey the surroundings.
There was no one around, eerily silent. By now, even guards rarely patrolled the forest, let alone her having Yanluo check beforehand.
She removed her hood, her gold and silver phoenix-patterned nails gliding over the fabric, emitting a faint “sizzle.”
Ye Tingyan didn’t wait for her command to rise. His tongue slid along his jawline, and he lifted his head first. Under the dancing flames, a captivating beauty’s face emerged, stirring myriad emotions within him, all swallowed down, leaving only one sentence: “Why doesn’t Your Majesty speak?”
Luo Wei suddenly raised her voice, firmly stating: “You have great audacity!”
Ye Tingyan wasn’t afraid: “Why does Your Majesty say so?”
“The crime of secretly exchanging messages within the inner chambers is grave. I don’t believe Lord Ye is unaware. If His Majesty finds out about today’s affair, what do you think he would feel?” Luo Wei spoke slowly, her tone mocking, “Last time, when I wanted to reminisce with you, you refused. Why now do you ask me to travel at night?”
“I have devoted my loyalty solely to His Majesty and Your Highness. There is a compelling reason for summoning Your Majesty here.” Ye Tingyan didn’t answer her question but quickly said, “Doesn’t Your Majesty know that everyone in the world has a flaw called ‘saying one thing but meaning another’? I have it, and so does Your Majesty. Otherwise, why would Your Majesty risk ‘private communication’ to come to this meeting under the cover of night?”
He deliberately emphasized the word “meeting,” yet showed no shame. He expected this subtle audacity to embarrass the person opposite—she used to get flustered by such teasing.
Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Luo Wei merely raised her eyelids and insincerely scolded: “I didn’t expect Lord Ye to be so eloquent, daring to say such things.”
But she was no longer the same person from before.
Ye Tingyan pretended to be oblivious: “This humble servant misspoke, please punish me, Your Majesty.”
Luo Wei nodded slightly, signaling him to rise: “You sent someone who knows nothing to recite the tonal patterns of ‘Gaoyang Terrace’ to me and specified the time for the next evening. Weren’t you afraid I wouldn’t understand?”
Ye Tingyan replied: “When we parted last time, I said I hoped Your Majesty would come. Hearing this, Your Majesty surely understood.”
“In that case, tell me. Why did you invite me here? If I find your reason unsatisfactory, I’ll first charge you with the crime of disrespect.”
Ye Tingyan calmly explained: “Your Majesty, the person who discovered Zhang Siyi’s body was the palace maid you met earlier in the Western Garden. She reported that while sweeping, she noticed a broken lock on a rarely used part of the garden. Out of curiosity, she entered and smelled an unusual scent, finding the body in the well.”
He paused, carefully observing her reaction, then continued: “This maid, whom you’ve brought into Qionghua Palace, is trustworthy. However, according to palace rules, lower-ranking maids shouldn’t approach wells or secluded areas without permission. Her presence there alone raises suspicion.”
Luo Wei listened quietly, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.
Ye Tingyan lowered his voice: “Furthermore, the maid mentioned seeing someone else near the well that day—a man in dark robes. She couldn’t identify him clearly but recalled hearing whispers and muffled sounds. Given the circumstances, it appears someone intended to frame her, luring her to the scene to either witness or discover the body.”
Luo Wei narrowed her eyes: “And you believe this is related to the palace’s internal strife?”
Ye Tingyan nodded: “Indeed. The timing is too coincidental. With the recent banquet and external pressure, someone likely aimed to destabilize the inner court. Using a trusted maid to stumble upon the body ensures the story spreads quickly, creating chaos.”
Her expression hardened: “Continue.”
He hesitated briefly: “From what I gathered, Zhang Siyi requested to leave the palace recently. Perhaps she knew something or posed a threat to certain parties. Someone silenced her permanently and orchestrated this elaborate scheme to implicate others.”
Luo Wei remained silent, absorbing his words. Finally, she asked: “What evidence supports your theory?”
Ye Tingyan produced a small bundle, unwrapping it to reveal a torn piece of fabric and a hairpin. “These were found near the well. The fabric matches the robes worn by certain palace attendants, and the hairpin bears the mark of the embroidery workshop. I believe these items were planted to mislead investigators.”
She examined the items closely, her mind racing through possibilities. Standing abruptly, she declared: “Very well. You’ve earned my trust thus far. Continue investigating discreetly. Report only to me.”
Bowing deeply, he replied: “As Your Majesty commands.”
As she prepared to leave, Luo Wei turned back, her voice carrying a warning: “Remember, Ye Tingyan—one misstep, and your head will roll.”
Watching her depart, Ye Tingyan’s lips curved into a faint smile. The game had only just begun.