"Your Majesty must not misunderstand. Prince Ping was merely concerned for his daughter and wished to see the Little Princess." Consort Xue swayed slightly as she knelt down. "This concubine feared Prince Ping might intrude into the palace, so I took the Little Princess to the imperial garden to meet him. I—"
Her lips parted, but suddenly, no words came out.
Because the emperor had seized her hand—the very hand Prince Ping had just touched.
Consort Xue’s heart trembled.
"My beloved consort, why are you afraid?" The emperor helped her up, but his arm around her waist did not loosen. "I naturally trust you."
Yet as he spoke, his thumb traced slow circles over the back of her hand, as if wiping away some invisible mark.
"I specifically ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare dishes to your taste. Come, try them." He guided her affectionately, seating her on a chair without hesitation.
Consort Xue dared not sit.
But when she met the emperor’s gaze, she could not refuse.
The emperor personally fed her a few bites from a bowl, then leaned in and asked, "How is it?"
The chilled dessert did soothe the summer heat, and Consort Xue gradually relaxed. She pressed her lips together, then looked up at the emperor with a faint smile. "It’s quite delightful. Your Majesty should try it too."
Instead, the emperor set the bowl aside and lifted her chin.
The lingering sweetness on her lips was stolen by his kiss.
Consort Xue’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening slightly. She could even see her own reflection in the emperor’s gaze.
"Indeed, delightful." The emperor stroked her silken hair. "You’ve suffered."
Just those few words reignited the emotions she had barely suppressed. Her nose tingled, and tears quickly pooled in her eyes.
The emperor embraced her, murmuring softly, "It will all be over soon."
...
It was dusk by the time Consort Xue returned to Yuxi Palace, her expression somber—something the palace servants noted silently.
No doubt the emperor and his consort had quarreled again.
Consort Xue observed their reactions but chose to ignore them. Only when Leng Ying approached did she finally vent her frustration, coldly dismissing the other attendants.
Alone with Leng Ying, she exhaled, the earlier cold fury melting into exhaustion.
Every day, she never knew when Prince Ping’s people might appear. Now, the only person in Yuxi Palace she trusted was Leng Ying—sent by the emperor himself.
"Consort, have you eaten?" Leng Ying knelt beside her, concerned.
Consort Xue shook her head. "I had a little at His Majesty’s side. I’m not hungry... Where is the Little Princess?"
"In the afternoon, she painted. Now she’s in the rear courtyard making lanterns from orange peels and refuses to be disturbed," Leng Ying reported.
Reassured, Consort Xue reclined on the daybed, her gaze drifting to the golden sunset beyond the courtyard wall.
The fading light stretched longer and dimmer, and for a moment, she lost herself in it.
She wondered if the walls they had climbed as children were now covered in moss...
Once childhood companions, now locked in a ruthless struggle—how things had changed. Anyone would sigh at the cruel passage of time.
"Consort, are you upset again?" Leng Ying fanned her gently, noting the sorrow in her mistress’s eyes.
Consort Xue shook her head.
"Upset? Hardly." She closed her eyes with a sigh. "I just never imagined I’d become a pawn in their rivalry... Perhaps that’s a skill in itself."
Her laugh was bitter.
Leng Ying knelt closer, earnest in her counsel. "Hearts change, Consort. Don’t dwell on it too deeply. Falling out with His Majesty would only bring trouble..."
Consort Xue suddenly smiled, opening her eyes. "Don’t fret. Of course I trust His Majesty."
Leng Ying relaxed. "You frightened me. I thought perhaps Prince Ping had swayed you..."
Consort Xue’s gaze sharpened as it settled on the small figure in the courtyard.
"Even if I were a fool, I’d never believe such words from him."
Seizing power—for her sake?
Absurd.
That was Qi Xiuyuan’s own ambition! What did it have to do with her?
Even his own daughter had been reduced to this state... The kind-hearted boy from their youth was long gone.
After leaving the palace, Prince Ping made another stop before returning to his estate. There, he immediately spotted Mei Wuchang—now wearing a half-mask—beside Jiu Yue.
Previously, Mei Wuchang had hidden the scar on his left cheek behind a curtain of hair. But with the mask, he had swept his hair back, transforming his appearance entirely.
He looked unexpectedly dashing.
Clearly, Mei Wuchang was pleased with the change.
Jiu Yue sat across from him, equally admiring. "See? I told you it suited you. Why didn’t you think of wearing a mask before?"
Her eyes held only genuine curiosity, no trace of mockery.
Mei Wuchang touched the mask self-consciously. "The scar made me look more intimidating."
Honestly, a knife-marked face screamed "don’t mess with me," didn’t it?
Jiu Yue suddenly recalled his signature eerie grin. After a pause, she asked, "And that sinister smirk of yours...?"
Mei Wuchang smirked—right on cue. "Even more intimidating, right?"
Jiu Yue: "..."
She clapped slowly. "Brilliant. You’re a natural."
A natural-born villain.
Mei Wuchang preened, but his expression froze when he noticed Prince Ping standing at the courtyard entrance, watching them silently.
"Your Highness, you’ve returned." Mei Wuchang quickly schooled his face into deference, bowing his head guiltily.
Jiu Yue, unruffled, turned to see Prince Ping approaching with his usual practiced smile.
"I didn’t wish to interrupt your lively conversation," Prince Ping said, settling beside Jiu Yue. "I hope I’m not disturbing you."
Jiu Yue mentally rolled her eyes but feigned surprise.
She scratched her arm casually, deftly evading Prince Ping’s attempt to take her hand.
"Why are you back so late?" she asked.
Prince Ping’s hand hovered mid-air. His eyes softened with regret. "Jiu Yue, are you upset I didn’t accompany you today?"
Jiu Yue: "...I suppose I should be?"
Prince Ping sighed, adopting that infuriatingly tender tone. "You must believe me. In my heart, there’s only you now."
Jiu Yue: "...Hah." A laugh would suffice.
Prince Ping caught her indifference but let it pass, turning instead to Mei Wuchang. "I have matters to discuss with you."
He then gave Jiu Yue a reassuring glance. "It’s late, and your injury hasn’t healed."
Taking the hint, Jiu Yue rose and headed to her quarters.
She glanced at the bandage on her hand. Days had passed since she first approached Prince Ping.
Was he keeping her sidelined because of this injury?
It made no sense. She was capable—why waste her skills cooped up in the manor? Was Prince Ping out of his mind?
With Prince Ping’s hypocritical demeanor, Jiu Yue wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he had suddenly grown protective of her after their reunion, unwilling to let her engage in dangerous missions anymore.
After pondering for a while, Jiu Yue found this reasoning increasingly plausible.
In a couple of days, she’d remove the bandages and show Prince Ping exactly what she was capable of!
……
In the study.
Prince Ping studied Mei Wuchang for a moment before asking curiously, “Why the sudden decision to wear a mask?”
Mei Wuchang recounted the day’s events.
Prince Ping smiled again. “So it was a gift from A-Yue… It does suit you. Keep it safe, then.”
His interlaced fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound subtly grating on Mei Wuchang’s nerves like a silent warning.
Mei Wuchang was both surprised and amused.
So it was true—people only learned to cherish what they had after losing it. In the past, no matter how many times Jiu Yue had deliberately tried to provoke Prince Ping’s jealousy, it had never worked. Yet now, after merely gifting him two masks on a whim, the prince was visibly unsettled.
Still, Mei Wuchang made no offer to discard the masks.
“Your Highness mentioned having orders for me?” he redirected the conversation.
Prince Ping glanced at him but didn’t press further about the masks.
“Recently, the Prefect of Yunjiang’s household was purged. Though the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review has returned to the capital, he dispatched the Vice Minister to investigate all the way to Qingnan…” Prince Ping lowered his gaze, his voice quiet but sharp. “They’ve overstepped their bounds.”
Mei Wuchang understood. “I’ll depart tomorrow.”
After waking, Jiu Yue had little to do, so she sat in her room writing her mission report—ah, right, she hadn’t forgotten she was a spy, sending updates to Sima Qing every couple of days.
Not that she’d gathered any particularly useful intel.
Propping her chin on one hand, she lazily scribbled: Prince Ping leaves early and returns late. No idea who he’s meeting in the palace.
Then, the memory of Prince Ping’s reaction the previous evening flashed through her mind—
That infuriating mix of guilt and denial, typical of a two-timing scoundrel?
Jiu Yue frowned slightly, replaying his words carefully.
She had only asked why he’d returned so late… and what had he said in response? Out of nowhere, he’d declared, “You’re the only one in my heart.”
Now that reeked of juicy gossip.
Jiu Yue immediately straightened, swapping the paper for a fresh sheet as she wrote with renewed focus: Prince Ping’s frequent palace visits suggest he may be meeting a woman there.
A woman in the palace…
Ah! Who was in the palace? Wasn’t Consort Xue there?!
That night, when she’d merely glimpsed Consort Xue passing by with Xue’er—without even seeing her face clearly—fragmented memories had surfaced. Jiu Yue would stake her gender on it: something was definitely going on between Prince Ping and Consort Xue!
She changed papers again, rewriting: Suspected that Prince Ping met Consort Xue in the palace. Verification requested.
After setting down the brush, she quickly blew on the ink to dry it, then disposed of the earlier drafts. Once the message was rolled up and hidden away, she pushed open her door as if nothing had happened.
By this hour, Mei Wuchang should have been waiting outside for her.
But today, it was Prince Ping himself who stood there.
Jiu Yue froze for a split second.
Prince Ping looked deliberately well-dressed, his appearance polished, a fan swaying in his hand—the very same concealed-weapon fan that had once blocked her strike.
Jiu Yue forced herself to look away, then met his gaze again, her expression perfectly calibrated to show just the right mix of surprise and curiosity. “Your Highness isn’t going out today?”
Prince Ping extended a hand in invitation. “I’ve had some free time lately, and it’s been ages since we strolled together… The lotuses at Yan Lake are in full bloom.”
“…” Jiu Yue glanced around. “Just the two of us?”
Prince Ping smiled, pleased. “Naturally.”
“Where’s Mei Wuchang?” she asked.
“I sent him to Qingnan on business,” Prince Ping replied, then paused.
“Qingnan…” Jiu Yue mused, walking ahead. “I’ve never been there. Is it beautiful?”
She turned back as she spoke.
Sunlight draped over her like a shimmering veil, ethereal in its radiance.
At least she was curious about Qingnan, not Mei Wuchang.
Prince Ping caught up to her. “It will be breathtaking in time. When the opportunity arises, I’ll take you there.”
Jiu Yue: “…”
Fortunately, that opportunity would likely never come.
