Chapter 37: Probing Part 1

Not up yet?

Xun Changqing glanced at her, still stepping onto the stairs with one foot. Xian Yu moved swiftly, flashing in front of her to block the way. She lowered her brows, the earlier smile fading by half. “County Princess, do you not believe this servant’s words?”

“Sister is joking. Changqing just wants to go in and take a look, just one glance to see that Master is well, then come right back out without disturbing her,” Xun Changqing said quietly, gazing at her with a rare sharpness in her eyes.

Xian Yu’s expression remained unchanged, showing no trace of anxiety or panic, though the faint furrow between her brows betrayed her. “Miss hasn’t left the room at all, so she is naturally fine. County Princess, your words are quite strange. Besides, if you go in, Miss sleeps lightly and will surely be disturbed. It’s best if you wait a bit.”

Xun Changqing placed both feet on the first step, her gaze clear and cold. “What if I don’t want to wait?”

The two stood in a standoff. Xian Yu hadn’t expected Xun Changqing to be so direct and was stunned for a moment before saying, “You and Miss are master and disciple—this would be overstepping bounds.”

The inexplicable behavior deepened the doubts in Xun Changqing’s heart. She looked toward the door behind Xian Yu. Her voice had grown louder; someone as vigilant as Wei Lingci should have woken up by now, no matter how deeply she slept.

“How is it overstepping? This is my Qingtang Pavilion, and the ground beneath your feet belongs to the Pingnan Prince’s Mansion. I call the shots here.” Xun Changqing let out a cold laugh, stepping back down and looking at Zi Jin. She instructed, “She won’t listen to me—throw her out. If Master wakes, I’ll handle it.”

These words were utterly unreasonable. When Wei Lingci had arrived, she brought only Xian Yun and Xian Yu. Now, with Xian Yun nowhere in sight, only Xian Yu remained. If Xun Changqing truly lost her temper, this somewhat willful and unreasonable County Princess might actually have her thrown out of the mansion.

Xian Yu hesitated for a moment, then slowly stepped back, voluntarily making way.

Seeing her yield, Xun Changqing curved her red lips slightly. She dismissed the servants outside, then hurried up the steps two at a time and opened the door herself. Incense wafted thickly inside, the light a bit dimmer. She stepped in lightly and lifted the beaded curtain.

Beyond layers of gauze curtains, she glimpsed the pure, pale face of the person on the bed. It was her—Wei Lingci.

Had she been mistaken?

On the street, the black-clothed figure had a chance to kill her but held back. The sword blocked by the guards wasn’t aimed at her at all; it was timed precisely so the guards would rush in at that moment. And just before Yuan Qingming arrived, by an assassin’s standards, there was ample time for another strike, but she hesitated those few breaths, allowing Yuan Qingming to arrive.

All signs pointed to the black-clothed person’s goal not being to kill her—it was just for show.

Wei Lingci’s swordsmanship was otherworldly, not limited to the Lingyun Sword Technique. Similarly, the assassin’s strikes during the attempt were profound and unpredictable, impossible to trace to any school. It was all too coincidental.

Since she was asleep, Xun Changqing decided to check closely. She lightened her steps and approached the bed, slowly raising her hand. Lifting the quilt would reveal the truth.

She studied her for a long while. Wei Lingci lay with eyes closed in deep slumber. Xun Changqing’s movements were feather-light, but her gaze burned like fire. She grew afraid—if it really was Wei Lingci, it meant Wei Lingci was also reborn!

She closed her eyes briefly, holding her breath in concentration. Hesitantly, she reached out, her once-relaxed heart tightening again. No sound reached her ears. She leaned down, her fingertip touching the edge of the quilt. As she moved to lift it, a warm hand caught her finger just in time, right before she could uncover the secret.

Wei Lingci slowly opened her eyes, her gaze landing on Xun Changqing’s face with a hint of confusion. Her voice was slightly hoarse. “How did you get in here?”

The hand caught by Wei Lingci grew slick with thin sweat in an instant, filled with the shame of a thief caught in the act. Xun Changqing steadied herself and withdrew her hand. “It’s noon, but Master hasn’t risen. Changqing was worried and came to check. Master, shall you get up?”

The room was very quiet. Wei Lingci looked at Xun Changqing with puzzled eyes, glancing toward the bright light outside. It stung, so she closed them again. After a moment of silence, she said faintly, “What were you trying to do just now?”

“When I returned to the palace, I encountered an assassin. Her swordsmanship was mysterious—I couldn’t tell its origin at all. All the guards fell to her blade…”

Xun Changqing paused deliberately, trying to spot anything unusual in her expression, but she failed. Wei Lingci’s face showed only exhaustion. Sitting up on the bed, she pressed her fingertips against the bedframe, knuckles whitening from the force. “Changqing suspects you were that assassin.”

“You think I wanted to kill you?” Wei Lingci countered. Her tone was casual, unhurried, calm and composed, though the earlier daze in her eyes had turned to cold sharpness.

“Five years ago, in the Battle of Lingyang, your skills already left me in awe. Back then, I only thought how formidable your martial arts were and didn’t notice you weren’t using the Lingyun Sword Technique. A few days ago, you defeated Wang Pingjun in a few moves—I watched closely from the side. You know more than just the Lingyun Sword Technique. The profound style you used to beat him, I didn’t recognize, but I saw it on the assassin today.”

Her heart ached with bitterness. She stepped back a few paces, her gaze still fixed on the quilt draped over Wei Lingci’s shoulder, embroidered with bamboo stalks, section upon section, rivaling the towering phoenix tree—much like Wei Lingci now, her thoughts as deep and vast as the ocean, impossible to fathom.