"Your Majesty, are you alright?"
On the sickbed, the Successor Empress lay pale, her gaze at the Crown Princess filled with exasperation.
"Even a child couldn’t be coaxed back—what am I to say to you?" The Successor Empress gasped for breath, her chest heaving. The Crown Princess pursed her lips.
"Your Majesty, your daughter-in-law did try to persuade her, but the child’s heart is set on the Qin Prince's Mansion."
The Crown Princess herself felt uneasy. It was her Chang family who had been dragged into this mess, yet the Successor Empress was blaming her instead.
"You saw how the Emperor treated her today. How will the Chang family answer to His Majesty in the future?" The Successor Empress was deeply troubled. "If you had just brought her back, we wouldn’t be forced into this predicament."
"Imperial Grandmother, some people are simply impossible to tame."
Song Yanzheng spoke calmly. "She sees the Eastern Palace as a den of beasts. Even if she returned, she wouldn’t truly work for its benefit. In that case, it’s better to draw the line between friend and foe from the start."
"As for an explanation—that’s simple." A shadow of ruthlessness flickered in Song Yanzheng’s eyes.
The Successor Empress studied her grandson intently.
This year, Song Yanzheng had just turned eighteen, the age to enter court affairs and seek a suitable marriage.
"Go on." In the Successor Empress’s eyes, this eldest grandson carried significant weight.
"If the rumor-mongers were to take their own lives out of guilt, that would suffice as an explanation."
The Successor Empress waved her hand. "Then let it be done. Just ensure no loose ends remain."
With those words, the fates of several men were sealed.
"Xiyan, stay here and keep Imperial Grandmother company." Song Yanzheng patted Song Xiyan’s shoulder. "She adores you—just seeing you lifts her spirits."
The Successor Empress chuckled in agreement. "Indeed, the sight of my flower-like granddaughter always brings me joy."
Only when laughter once again filled the room did Song Yanzheng leave, satisfied.
Xiyan was so pure and kind—she deserved to be cherished by all.
......
Three days later.
"What?" The teacup in Song Shihuan’s hand fell to the ground, shattering with a crisp sound.
"Your Highness, when the guards found those who spread the rumors, they were already dead. Upon investigation, it was discovered they had all poisoned themselves." Wu Qi hesitated. "Upon hearing the news, Lady Chang was so frightened she fell into a high fever."
"Frightened?"
Song Yu curled his lips in disdain. If anyone should be frightened, it was his A’huan. Lady Chang was old enough to have grandchildren—how could she still be so easily startled?
How dramatic!
"His Majesty suggests that the Qin Prince's Mansion ought to send condolences to the Chang Residence."
Just as Song Yu was about to speak, Song Shihuan’s voice cut in. "Thank you for the reminder, Eunuch. Father, since Lady Chang fell ill while defending my innocence, we should indeed send gifts to the Chang Residence."
"Nanny taught me recently—one must observe propriety."
Only then did Song Yu agree, ordering the servants to prepare the gifts.
Cold sweat dampened Song Shihuan’s palms. She never imagined those men would all be killed.
That night, Song Shihuan was haunted by nightmares.
In her dreams, she ran desperately forward, pursued relentlessly by shadowy figures.
Drenched in sweat, she was shaken awake by her Nanny.
"Your Highness, was it a nightmare?" The Nanny lit calming incense. "It must be the shock from today’s events. Don’t be afraid, Your Highness—this old servant will stay by your bedside."
Song Shihuan stared blankly at the bed curtains. "Nanny, I’m fine."
She had thought cornering Lady Chang would at least force the Emperor to see that the rumors originated from the Chang family.
But she never expected the rumor-mongers to be silenced so completely.
What a masterstroke—not only did it cut off all leads, but it also made the Emperor believe the Chang family genuinely cared for her, improving their standing in his eyes.
She had underestimated her opponent.
Song Shihuan spent half the night analyzing her missteps, her gaze boring holes into the bed curtains.
The next morning, a palace servant announced Song Yanzheng’s arrival.
The moment he entered, Song Yanzheng’s lips curled at the sight of Song Shihuan’s dark-circled eyes. "A’huan, you didn’t sleep well last night?"
Song Shihuan froze.
That look—she knew it too well. It was the expression Song Yanzheng wore when he had successfully manipulated someone.
In an instant, she realized: the killings weren’t the Chang family’s doing.
It was Song Yanzheng standing before her.
"What brings the Imperial Grandson to my quarters?" Song Shihuan forced a bright smile, feigning nonchalance. "Nanny, serve His Highness some tea."
"I brought you something today." At Song Yanzheng’s signal, a eunuch behind him opened a lacquered box. "These are Xiyan’s paintings and poems. I thought you might be bored, so you can see if there’s anything you’d like to learn."
He watched Song Shihuan expectantly, hoping to catch a flicker of dismay on her face.
The moment he heard she had shattered a teacup yesterday, he had been unable to resist coming to the Purple Dawn Hall at dawn.
Nothing delighted him more than seeing his prey distressed and helpless.
"Nanny, please accept these. My thanks to the Imperial Grandson."
Song Shihuan’s smile only widened, leaving Song Yanzheng no choice but to storm off in frustration.
Alone, Song Shihuan stared at the direction he had left, lost in thought.
How should she return the favor?
......
About a quarter-hour after Song Yanzheng’s departure, Song Yu barged in. "I heard that brat Song Yanzheng was here. A’huan, did he bully you?"
Three seconds passed with no response.
Song Yu looked closer—the girl was holding a history book, but her gaze was vacant, clearly not absorbing a word.
"A’huan?"
Finally snapping back to reality, Song Shihuan mumbled, "Father, am I... inadequate?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Then what about Imperial Grandfather? I want to ask him too."
Her lips trembling, the young girl had both Emperor Yuanyou and Song Yu standing before her in an instant.
"A’huan, in Our heart, you are far from inadequate."
"But I can’t paint, and I can’t compose poetry." Song Shihuan’s face fell. "I know the Imperial Grandson meant well, but seeing those things just made me feel terrible."
"What exactly happened?" Emperor Yuanyou turned to the Nanny, who nervously recounted the events.
Song Yu roared in outrage. "That brat Song Yanzheng did this on purpose!"
"Father, the Imperial Grandson was just being thoughtful. It’s my fault for not having Xiyan’s talents."
"What talent?" Emperor Yuanyou looked at his nearly tearful granddaughter and had an idea. "Wu Qi, summon the Crown Princess and Xiyan. Let Xiyan explain how she’s been making up for her shortcomings through diligence these past years."
When the Crown Princess and Song Xiyan learned what had transpired, Song Xiyan nearly burst into tears.
"Your Majesty, Xiyan has always been naturally gifted."
"We distinctly remember you and the Crown Prince always boasting how Xiyan practiced before dawn—isn’t that the mark of a slow bird flying early?" Emperor Yuanyou frowned disapprovingly.
At that, Song Xiyan’s eyes truly reddened.
