Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Cheng Muning’s face betrayed no emotion as she took a cup and lightly sipped the tea, seemingly dismissing Du Linyi’s words.

As night fell, she lay down in the main courtyard of the princess’s residence. Aunt Cai, meticulous as ever, had arranged this place to be no different from the Fuluan Palace, yet the unfamiliar scents caused Cheng Muning to toss and turn until the third watch before she finally fell asleep.

That night, she had a dream.

It was nine years ago, when the late emperor was still alive.

That year, the Wumeng tribe from the north launched a massive assault on the border. The late emperor personally led the army to repel the invaders. Before the expedition, the provisions and supplies were stationed at the capital camp. Cheng Muning and Cheng Zheng were still young then, crouching behind the screens in the council hall to eavesdrop on the ministers’ discussions out of curiosity. On the day the army set off, they hid inside the carriage frame of Cen Rui, who was then a royal guard, and sneaked off to the capital camp. They climbed onto a supply wagon, and by the time they were discovered, the army had already been on the march for seven or eight days. Their silks and brocades were rumpled and worn, their meals irregular, and their faces pale and gaunt.

Her father, Emperor Yan Jing, was stern and rarely smiled in public; on the battlefield, he was even more severe. Though Cheng Muning was favored by him, she still felt uneasy under such circumstances, and Cheng Zheng, most afraid of their father, shrank behind her. Yet Emperor Yan Jing furrowed his brow and studied them for a moment before saying, “If you go any further, there’s no turning back. The battlefield offers no luxuries for you to enjoy. Yongning, Crown Prince, the choice is yours.”

Cheng Zheng, having been coaxed into this, and having gone hungry for several days, immediately hung his head and said, “I... I want to return to the palace.”

They had agreed to go together, but Cheng Muning was abandoned unilaterally and was displeased, frowning as she called him, “Ah Zheng.”

Cheng Zheng, feeling guilty, whispered, “Father is leading the army; as Crown Prince, I should remain in the palace. Sister, after you’ve been, please come back and tell me what you hear.”

In the end, Cheng Zheng was sent back to the palace, and Cheng Muning continued on with the emperor’s carriage.

The carriage was spacious, and on Emperor Yan Jing’s writing desk lay a map of the Six Provinces of Yingdu, marked with several chess-like tokens indicating locations. Cheng Muning propped her chin in her hand, studying it carefully, though at the time, she didn’t truly understand what war meant; she was mostly fascinated by the novelty of the journey. She never anticipated that this war would last two full years and end in such a devastating defeat.

No one could have predicted.

The Wumeng had united the various tribes on the grasslands. The Great Zhou underestimated their fighting strength, losing two cities in just three months. Cheng Muning wandered with a band of soldiers, rarely seeing her father. During this time, she grew rapidly, rendering her silks and brocades useless.

A woman distributing porridge gave her two sets of coarse cloth garments. That very night, Cheng Muning broke out in a rash, but the hardships of war far exceeded these few spots. She crouched beside the porridge stall, gazing out at the land littered with starving corpses, and suddenly burst into tears.

Just then, Emperor Yan Jing, returning from battle, passed by and took Cheng Muning back to his tent.

Seeing her father’s somber expression, Cheng Muning gradually stopped crying. “Your servant was wrong...”

“It’s right for you to cry.” In just a few months, Emperor Yan Jing had grown several white hairs, his face still marked with freshly scabbed wounds. He said heavily, “You are the princess of the realm, Yongning. They are your people as well.”

Cheng Muning slowly opened her eyes, watching the curtains flutter in the wind.

That war cost the Great Zhou the entire Six Provinces of Yingdu. Her father, burdened with grief, grew increasingly ill after returning to court. Not long after, the Empress Dowager passed away. He dragged his ailing body through a long period of mourning before finally being confined to bed to recuperate. It was then that some old ministers, coveting control of state affairs, began to emerge at court. Their power grew like a rolling snowball, aiming to divide and consume the emperor’s authority.

Before his death, her father did everything in his power to clear obstacles for Cheng Zheng, whispering “Yingdu” even in his last moments. He believed Cheng Zheng could be the hope of Great Zhou, capable of fulfilling his unfinished ambitions. But in the very first year of his reign, Cheng Zheng married Yongzhao off to the Wumeng.

He trampled Great Zhou’s dignity underfoot and led himself into a tiger’s den.

Reflecting on this, Cheng Muning took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

...

Two days later was the day she had arranged to meet Xu Wanyue. Yin Zhu waited early at the city gate.

The appointed hour was at sunset. As the sky darkened and dusk passed, Yin Zhu turned and entered a nearby tavern, climbing to a private room on the third floor. Pushing the door open, she said, “Princess, an hour has passed. The city gates will soon close. I’m afraid Miss Xu won’t be coming.”

Opposite Cheng Muning sat a thin, small boy about nine years old. He had been seated here all afternoon, seeming perpetually hungry. Seeing him hiccup and reach for the last piece of cake, Cheng Muning gently stopped him, speaking softly, “No more eating, or your stomach will be upset.”

Xu Cong’s round eyes blinked, reluctant but obediently nodding. Just as Xu Wan described, he seemed born without the gift of speech. Now his arms were folded on the table as he quietly watched Cheng Muning.

He clearly had never met this cousin before. The child’s gaze held no malice, only curiosity. Cheng Muning smiled faintly, letting him look.

It had taken considerable effort to bring Xu Jingqing’s son out from under his watchful eyes. Fortunately, the boy’s stepmother was no kind woman and neglected her care of the illegitimate child. When the court physician said he had contracted smallpox, she hurriedly sent a maid to take him to a village, ostensibly for rest, but in truth, she left him to fend for himself.

Cheng Muning gently wiped the rouge spots from his face with a handkerchief, then had Hong Jin take him aside to play. Rising, she composed herself and walked to the window to look down. The procession leaving the city was growing smaller by the moment.

Yin Zhu asked, “Princess, shall we wait longer?”

“Another half an hour,” Cheng Muning said, eyes fixed outside. “Even if Xu Wan failed to bring the ledger, she should have come to explain. If she doesn’t show—”

Suddenly, Cheng Muning narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the window sill.

Yin Zhu was startled, following her gaze to the southeast, where thick smoke billowed upward. Her heart sank. Just as she sensed something was wrong, Cheng Muning suddenly tugged her aside. An arrow thudded directly into the window frame. Yin Zhu was immediately terrified.

“Princess!” Yin Zhu anxiously pulled Cheng Muning behind a wall, shouting, “Protect the princess!”

The household guards burst in at the door, and below the building came sounds of fighting. Assassins leapt down from all directions, and outside, the townsfolk cried out in alarm as they scattered in panic.

Yin Zhu quickly closed the window, fearing more arrows. Panting, she said, “Could this be an ambush set by Miss Xu?”

“That’s unlikely.” Cheng Muning glanced at Xu Cong. “We’ve been here for two hours. If Miss Xu had conspired with others, they would have struck already.”

She seemed unfazed by such surprises. After all, four years ago, even within the palace’s inner courtyard, eunuchs had attempted assassination with knives. Returning to the capital, she had expected such dangers and quickly regained her composure. “Let’s leave now.”

Yin Zhu guarded her side, while Hong Jin carried Xu Cong. Many disguised soldiers followed them out. The ground floor had already erupted into chaos. A few close attendants escorted Cheng Muning toward the tavern’s back door, where a carriage awaited. But just as they stepped outside, arrows rained down, flying diagonally. The guards struggled to parry with their blades, urging, “Princess, get in the carriage quickly!”

At that moment, a gleaming blade descended from above.

Cheng Muning looked up to see several deadly warriors leaping down from the rooftop, wielding steel blades. Hastily, she pushed Hong Jin aside, who was holding Xu Cong, as a sword struck between them.

The gust from the blade caused ringing in Cheng Muning’s ears, and a cut opened on her arm. The assassin raised his weapon again with such force that he shattered the guard’s steel blade. The guard had no choice but to hold his arm in front of her, struggling to defend. The assassin raised his blade once more—

Hong Jin cried out, “Princess!”

At that moment, there was a sharp clang. Out of nowhere, a shadow appeared with lightning-fast steps too swift to follow. By the time they saw his figure, he was already standing with his sword raised, blocking Cheng Muning’s path.

It was Zhou Min.

Cheng Muning breathed a sigh of relief but was startled. Zhou Min was here, then—before she could turn, a fiery chestnut horse reared up, hooves high. Before she could react, her waist was suddenly gripped, and she was hoisted onto the horse.

Pei Shao’s presence swept over her as he shouted, “Zhou Min!”

Zhou Min, leading dozens of household soldiers, had completely surrounded the street, leaving no escape.

Still catching her breath, Cheng Muning looked back up at him. His gaze traveled from her pale, unaware face, down to the blood seeping from her arm, then furrowed slightly as their eyes met.

The pain in her forearm began to spread, and suddenly, Cheng Muning found it difficult to breathe.

Meanwhile, at the Hou residence, the fire had broken out suddenly during the sweltering summer heat. Although the soldiers arrived promptly, most of the pavilions in the Wude Marquis’s estate had already been consumed.

When Xu Jingqing arrived, the Wude Marquis was kneeling beneath the charred corridor, weeping. “My treasures—”

Xu Jingqing glanced around, his eyelids twitching. “Tell me, where did you put those things?”

The Marquis sobbed miserably. “What things? These treasures were all bought with real gold and silver—”

Xu Jingqing, losing patience, grabbed him roughly. His face darkened like ink as he lowered his voice. “In these times, a fire breaks out for no reason. I’m asking where you hid the ledgers!”

The Marquis choked, briefly stupefied, then his face changed drastically. He broke free and rushed toward the abandoned back hill. There, among the wasteland, was a dry well. Struggling, the Marquis climbed over and grasped the rope, descending into the depths.

A knowing, mocking smile spread across Xu Jingqing’s lips. No wonder the Supreme Court had turned the estate upside down but found nothing.

Xu Jingqing followed the Marquis into the well, and indeed, below was a hidden world.

The Marquis quickly found a secret compartment, but upon opening it, it was empty. His face instantly turned pale, his whole body trembling. “It’s over. It’s all over...”

He slowly turned to Xu Jingqing. “What are we going to do now?”

Xu Jingqing’s temple twitched violently. Seething with anger yet laughing bitterly, he curled his lips darkly. “I told you long ago—some things cannot be kept.”