Lu Chao tucked the drawing he had written into his robe and hurried toward the general's residence with the hexagram slips in hand.
The familiar silhouette on the wall flickered past, but the guards at the general's residence were long accustomed to it and didn't even bother to lift an eyelid.
"Ah-Zheng!"
Xiao Zheng was soaking in a bathtub, the steam blurring his vision as his thoughts lingered on the day's events at the Crown Prince's Residence.
Suddenly, Lu Chao's voice reached his ears. He froze, wondering if he had misheard—until urgent knocking snapped him back to reality. Without bothering to dry his dripping hair, he grabbed an outer robe and hastily pulled open the door.
"What's happened?"
Xiao Zheng's brows furrowed slightly, his tone laced with tension.
Lu Chao stood outside, colliding with Xiao Zheng, who was still damp with steam. Xiao Zheng's wet hair cascaded loosely over his shoulders, framing a strikingly handsome yet sharp-featured face that exuded an air of quiet intensity.
For a moment, Lu Chao stood rooted in place, his gaze involuntarily lingering on Xiao Zheng—who, at this moment, resembled a sword temporarily sheathed, its edge concealed yet no less unsettling.
Noticing his stare, Xiao Zheng brushed aside any awkwardness and pressed again, "What's wrong?"
Lu Chao snapped out of his daze, coughing lightly, his cheeks tinged pink.
"Ah—my apologies. I didn’t realize you were… bathing. Are you free now?"
Xiao Zheng stepped aside, gesturing for Lu Chao to enter.
Lu Chao strode in and shut the door behind him, then unfurled the drawing in his hands and murmured,
"Ah-Zheng, I recall you know some Tartar script. Can you tell me if this is a character? I think I saw it back in Shuozhou."
Xiao Zheng took the drawing, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the markings.
"'Wu'? This is indeed Tartar script. Where did you see it?"
Lu Chao's heart jolted, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
"I found this in the imperial mausoleum's underground palace. How could Tartar script appear there? What does this mean?"
Xiao Zheng's expression darkened as he explained in a low voice,
"'Wu' holds immense significance in Tartar culture. Their shamans rank just below royalty—masters of medicine, rituals, divination, and even communion with spirits. Some say they can bridge heaven and earth, foreseeing the future. If this character appeared in the imperial mausoleum… the situation is far more complicated than we imagined."
His mind raced, connecting fragments of his recent investigations.
Was this the reason the old man had gone to the underground palace?
Realizing the gravity, Lu Chao met Xiao Zheng's gaze solemnly.
"This matter is too dangerous. I must report to Prince Kang immediately. Xiao Zheng, you must keep this secret—not a word to anyone!"
Xiao Zheng steadied himself, his gaze unwavering as he nodded.
"Don’t worry. I understand the stakes. This concerns the foundation of the state—I won’t act recklessly."
Yet Lu Chao’s unease lingered. Thinking of the shadowy forces Xiao Zheng had been pursuing, he braced for the worst.
"Prince Kang has also been quietly investigating unusual movements in court. Perhaps he’ll find clues. But you—be careful. I know you’re eager for vengeance, but protect yourself first. Don’t make me worry."
He turned to leave but paused, glancing back at Xiao Zheng.
"Remember, our wedding is in three months. We have a long future ahead—don’t rush."
A flicker of emotion passed through Xiao Zheng’s eyes.
"Understood."
Lu Chao vanished into the night. Xiao Zheng remained motionless, staring at the empty path long after he had gone.
In Prince Kang’s residence, candlelight flickered.
The master and his two disciples sat facing each other, the air thick with tension.
Murong Yun clutched the slip of Tartar script, his brow deeply furrowed as he studied it.
He glanced at Xiao Zheng, surprise and approval coloring his tone.
"Never thought you’d recognize Tartar script!"
Lu Chao smirked, a hint of pride in his voice.
"I’ve only seen it once before, so it didn’t click at first. Tonight, while teaching Xingyao to write, her scribbles reminded me—back when His Highness sent me to Shuozhou with provisions, the magistrate of Mingxiang County mentioned that Tartar shamans are revered. If you encounter their raids, knowing even a bit of their lore might spare your life."
Lowering his voice, he added,
"Master… is this why you’re going to the underground palace?"
Murong Yun exchanged a glance with Prince Kang, who gave a slight nod. Sighing, he finally revealed the truth.
"Only partly. We kept this from you because you’re frail—we didn’t want you entangled. But since you’ve uncovered it, I’ll speak plainly."
His eyes darkened as he gazed into the candlelight.
"Shortly after the Emperor ascended the throne, he traveled incognito and met a woman of unparalleled beauty—a skilled healer versed in divination and spirit communion. He brought her to the palace, naming her Concubine Ling. For a time, she was his most favored consort."
"But rumors soon spread that she was of foreign blood. Historians and ministers submitted memorials denouncing her. The Empress Dowager, fearing she’d destabilize the court, forced her to drink a sterility potion. The Emperor, still reliant on noble support, had no choice but to stage her execution—while secretly hiding her away."
"The mausoleum?"
Murong Yun nodded.
"Yet time erodes all things. The Emperor’s visits dwindled as Concubine Ling aged. Desperate to escape her gilded cage, she revealed a secret: her mother was a Miao saintess, and she possessed a life-extending ritual—one requiring a blood sacrifice from kin."
Even hearing it again, Prince Kang clenched his fists.
"The Emperor believed her and brought her back. The Crown Prince was only four. She took a drop of his blood… and planted a gu worm in him."
Lu Chao stiffened, stunned that the Crown Prince’s affliction traced back to the Emperor.
Murong Yun shook his head, sighing.
"But Concubine Ling was a woman of the jianghu—unyielding, sworn to vengeance. She seized her chance, stabbed the Empress Dowager to death, then… took her own life. Every palace maid and guard who knew the truth vanished overnight."
Lu Chao struggled to process it.
"So Concubine Ling was Tartar?"
"Yes. More than that—her father descended from Tartar shamans, and her mother was a Miao saintess."
