Chapter 56

Xiao Jin was caught completely off guard by the unlocking of Chu Shao’s affection.

Before she could even react to what she herself had done, she turned her head only to find that Chu Shao was no longer by her side.

Looking straight ahead, she saw that pure white silhouette standing beneath a lantern frame. Sleeves fluttered as the figure moved amidst the brilliant, colorful lights.

Xiao Jin watched Chu Shao, and the person under her gaze was tilting her head up, quietly observing the paper-folded colored lanterns hanging on the frame.

The halos of light illuminated her robes and face in waves. Chu Shao’s gaze touched the lampshades, as if she were looking toward some very high, very far place, lost in thought for a long time.

The moon rose from behind the clouds. Chu Shao turned around and looked at Xiao Jin. “Is today the Lantern Festival?”

Xiao Jin nodded. “It is.”

The candlelight flickered; Chu Shao’s face was faint and hazy in the lamplight. A trace of a smile appeared between her brows. Softly, she said, “Thank you.”

This time, Chu Shao’s thanks omitted the prefix “Your Highness,” nor did she use any honorifics like “you (formal).”

This meant the words were not meant for the original host, nor for the Prince Yan of Qi.

Chu Shao was thanking her.

Xiao Jin paused, then replied, “You don’t need to thank me.”

…

Back in her room, Xiao Jin pondered what kind of conditions Commandery Governor Xu would propose.

However, Commandery Governor Xu actually had no other choice.

The struggles within the imperial family seemed complicated, but in reality, they were quite simple. Commandery Governor Xu had offended Chancellor Mu, which meant he had offended the faction of the Fourth Prince.

If Commandery Governor Xu wanted to be transferred back to the capital city this time, he would have to attach himself to a power outside the Fourth Prince’s faction.

And aside from herself, the only ones capable of contending with the Fourth Prince were the Eldest Princess and the Crown Prince.

Not to mention that the Eldest Princess was secretly supporting the Fourth Prince, the mere fact that Commandery Governor Xu was just a minor Prefect of Qingzhou meant he was limited to local posts. Wanting to meet the Crown Prince of Qi and the Eldest Princess Zhaoyang was nothing short of a fool’s dream.

So Xiao Jin believed that before the male lead extended an olive branch to Commandery Governor Xu, the best ally he could choose was herself.

And the reason Xiao Jin wanted to recruit Commandery Governor Xu for her own use was not just because this man had personal grievances with Chancellor Mu.

More importantly, in the original plot, Commandery Governor Xu held a secret concerning Chancellor Mu.

When the former Commandery Governor of Wanzhou was convicted and exiled to Lingnan, because he had always been on good terms with Commandery Governor Xu, he had entrusted a messenger to deliver a ledger to Xu. That ledger recorded the detailed expenses Chancellor Mu had claimed for disaster relief in Wanzhou.

Chancellor Mu was no honest, incorruptible official; on the contrary, he was deeply fond of amassing wealth. When it came to disaster relief, naturally, he would take the opportunity to line his own pockets.

However, for some unknown reason, after Chancellor Mu finished the flood relief, the Blood Rain Pavilion actually leaked the news of his embezzlement.

Seeing rumors spreading throughout the capital, Chancellor Mu was terrified and ultimately sacrificed his rook to save his king, pushing the Commandery Governor of Wanzhou out as his scapegoat. And on his way to exile, the Commandery Governor of Wanzhou also died of a “sudden vicious illness.” These flames never reached Chancellor Mu.

Although Commandery Governor Xu held evidence of Chancellor Mu’s embezzlement, his power alone was ultimately far too insignificant.

One had to understand that the Mu family had produced a Prime Minister, and there was also a favored Noble Consort in the palace.

If one wanted to shake the Mu family’s position and completely topple Chancellor Mu using the matter of embezzlement in disaster relief, it would be like smashing an egg against a boulder—foolishly overestimating one’s own strength.

Therefore, even after being demoted repeatedly, Commandery Governor Xu never revealed this matter.

He had been biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity.

Xiao Jin looked at the calligraphy scroll in the room and thought to herself that in the original novel, the right opportunity you waited for was the Crown Prince. But unfortunately, the one who met you first this time was me, so you’ll just have to resign yourself to your bad luck.

Having finished thinking about these serious matters, her mind inevitably still held some things that were not serious but equally important.

That white silhouette beneath the colorful lanterns truly lingered in Xiao Jin’s mind, vanishing the moment she closed her eyes.

It was difficult to describe the posture of Chu Shao tilting her chin up at that moment. Looking into Chu Shao’s eyes, she always felt this person seemed to be thinking about many things, yet also seemed to be thinking of nothing at all.

Chu Shao was someone who existed between innocence and cruelty. The mundane affairs of the world seemed to be mere pastimes for her when bored.

What kind of person was Chu Shao? Xiao Jin could not see through her.

But when Xiao Jin looked up and saw hundreds of bright lanterns reflected in Chu Shao’s eyes, she suddenly very much wanted to know: what kind of magnificent scenes had this person once been amidst, and what kind of decay and desolation had she witnessed?

To turn around and gaze at her with such a smile, such a look.

…

The night deepened.

Xiao Jin, preoccupied with her thoughts, drank a few cups of wine within the Governor’s Residence.

Initially, she didn’t feel the wine was particularly intoxicating, but while alone in her room, she pressed a finger to her temple and felt the aftereffects were still a bit strong.

Although she wasn’t drunk to the point of unconsciousness and babbling nonsense, the dizziness and headache were real.

Fortunately, Juege had sent two maidservants some days ago, named Yin Zhu and Zi Ling. Both had grown up in Yan territory since childhood, knew Xiao Jin was a woman, and were convenient for meticulous personal attendance.

Seeing Xiao Jin slightly drunk, Yin Zhu helped her remove her outer clothes and brought a bowl of hangover soup, serving her as she drank it.

Having drunk several cups, Xiao Jin inevitably smelled of alcohol, so bathing that night was a must.

Zi Ling found a clean snow-white inner garment. After helping Xiao Jin change, she pushed Xiao Jin to the bathing pool in the rear courtyard.

The pool was very large, the floor paved with jade.

Although Xiao Jin’s legs were afflicted with illness, after soaking in the pool for a while, she felt that when her toes touched the hot spring water at the pool’s bottom, she could sense the touch as though it were a soft layer of gauze.

The pool water was a light jade-green color. Xiao Jin, eyes half-open, casually asked Yin Zhu, “What’s soaking in this pool?”

Yin Zhu replied, “Answering Your Highness, what’s inside are the spirit medicines sent by Commander Ye. It is said this medicinal liquid is extremely precious and greatly beneficial for your leg ailment.”

The effects of the alcohol hadn’t worn off yet. Xiao Jin took a moment to react before realizing that the “Commander Ye” in Yin Zhu’s mouth was Ye Juege.

On the surface, she nodded in agreement.

But inwardly, she was thinking: even the Divine Doctor Su from the original novel couldn’t cure the original host’s leg ailment. This medicinal liquid probably just treats the symptoms, not the root cause, and its effects would be extremely limited.

But then again, feeling better for a while is better than nothing.

Although she knew the effects the medicine could maintain were likely brief, when Xiao Jin discovered her legs could move slightly, her heart was somewhat comforted.

Using her legs for the first time since coming to this world was truly worth remembering.

Zi Ling watched Xiao Jin’s legs sink to the pool’s bottom, moving only a strand of cold-jade-like white. For some reason, a faint blush appeared on her face.

Then she averted her gaze, presented a letter to Xiao Jin, and said respectfully, “Your Highness, Commander Ye has basically finished investigating Shen Lang’s background. Please review it.”

Xiao Jin took the secret missive.

She forced her eyelids open and skimmed the contents, finding nothing particularly suspicious.

Until she saw the line: In the twelfth year of Yongning, met Rong Lian at Reed Pavilion.

Xiao Jin’s brow furrowed slightly. If she remembered correctly, Rong Lian… seemed to be Chu Shao’s birth mother?

Just then, a mechanical voice suddenly sounded in Xiao Jin’s mind: “Congratulations, Host! You have gathered the third condition concerning Side Quest One.”

Hearing the system’s words, Xiao Jin was somewhat puzzled.

Apart from speaking a few words with Eldest Princess Zhaoyang, she didn’t seem to have deliberately collected any clues. How had she gathered all the conditions?

The system seemed to know Xiao Jin’s thoughts and offered an explanation.

“The conditions to trigger Side Quest One are four in total: First, possess the key item ‘Ice Bellflower Handkerchief.’ Second, obtain ‘Eldest Princess Zhaoyang’s Conversation.’ Third, unlock information related to Shen Lang’s background. The fourth condition is…”

“Unlock the affection of the female lead, Chu Shao.”

Xiao Jin fell silent.

So the system knew from the very beginning that completing this side quest required unlocking Chu Shao’s affection, yet it had kept this hidden from her all along?

The system explained further: “The female lead Chu Shao’s affection is a hidden, additional condition. The system cannot detect whether the Host can achieve it, so it did not inform you of this condition.”

“Simply put, if the Host had not unlocked the female lead Chu Shao’s affection, you would still receive a reward upon completing Side Quest One, but the reward would be halved.”

Xiao Jin understood the system’s meaning.

This meant that her failure to achieve this condition wouldn’t be a major issue; there would still be a reward.

However, achieving it was certainly better.

Xiao Jin hadn’t even finished reading the remaining contents of the letter when she asked impatiently, “So, what exactly is the reward?”

The system replied, “The reward includes one month of lifespan and a memory fragment related to the ‘Flower of Auspiciousness.'”

“A memory fragment?”

“Yes.”

Xiao Jin’s intuition told her this memory was likely related to Chu Shao. She frowned and asked, “When will this memory fragment be triggered?”

The system answered amiably, “Now.”

“Right now?” Xiao Jin was shocked, feeling this was coming a little too fast.

“Yes, Host.”

“The system is very efficient.”

Before Xiao Jin could even manage to curse out loud and use all her strength to resist the triggering of the memory fragment—

She lost consciousness.

…

After returning to her room, Chu Shao had been pondering one thing she couldn’t quite figure out.

Or rather, many things.

By the moonlight falling in the courtyard, Chu Shao raised her hand, looking at the pale blue veins on her wrist.

She knew the blood inside was flowing, but such flowing did not bring her any sense of the pleasure of being alive.

The pulse at her wrist was truly present.

Even if the tip of a dagger were to press against the veins, the blood inside would still flow.

Whether existing as a silent surging posture, or as a state that sprays and splashes outward—to Chu Shao, they were both the same.

But tonight, when she saw the colorful lanterns suspended on the wooden frame, she felt the blood throughout her body fall into an extremely tranquil state.

It was as if they had been tamed by something, becoming very docile.

Docile to the point that it was somewhat unlike her.

Chu Shao paced amidst the burning lanterns. Uncharacteristically, she was seriously doing something so boring and utterly meaningless.

Until she turned around and looked at Xiao Jin, she felt the blood throughout her body burning along with the flames stirred by a swarm of butterflies.

Chu Shao felt she was overlooking a very important matter, something she very much wanted to understand, very much wanted to explore.

What exactly was this matter?

Chu Shao wasn’t very clear, but she understood that she absolutely had to know. No matter what means she used, no matter what method she employed to investigate, she had to know what that feeling in that moment originated from.

She wanted to know very much, so she walked out.

Into the night, into the darkness.

Passing through wooden frames overflowing with lamplight, passing through cold, solitary flowers, Chu Shao arrived in front of the bathing pool in the rear courtyard.

She knew this place was garrisoned by the Prince’s manor guard army, but they all recognized her and did not stop her.

The only ones who blocked her were two maidservants with wary expressions: “Princess Consort, the Prince is bathing inside. Please halt.”

Hearing their words, Chu Shao smiled, expressing understanding.

Then she precisely delivered a knife-hand strike to each of their necks, felling them.

Watching the two maidservants collapse softly, Chu Shao considerately supported them, placing their bodies by the pillars.

A smile still on her lips, she continued forward.

Chu Shao’s steps were very light.

Gently she pushed open the door, gently stepped across the slightly damp jade tiles, and even the act of removing her shoes and slipping into the pool water was extremely soft and gentle.

The bath was thick with moist steam.

Within it, Chu Shao could clearly feel the hot spring water soaking through her robes and hair, but she didn’t care.

She simply walked, slowly wading through the water.

Like a pure white carp, dragging its drenched hem, swimming to the other side where nothing could be seen clearly.

Only when she saw Xiao Jin at the edge of the pool did Chu Shao stop, coming to shore.

Looking at the three thousand strands of black hair scattered on the water’s surface, and Xiao Jin’s peaceful sleeping face, her heart was still full of confusion.

Taking another step closer, Chu Shao gazed at Xiao Jin’s dark, damp eyelashes. The thickening mist rising from the pool seemed to faintly disperse, gradually becoming clearer.

The lowered, fine eyelashes, the soft nape of her neck—these were all familiar to her.

So when Chu Shao extended her hand, grasped her knuckles, and gripped Xiao Jin’s neck, the series of actions was undoubtedly easy and natural.

The smile remained on her lips, soft as a fragrant breeze stirring on a spring night.

Chu Shao didn’t apply force to strangle her.

Merely feeling the flow of blood within the neck was already enough to make her excited.

But at this moment, Chu Shao was not satisfied with just enough. She wanted to explore even more.

Chu Shao looked at the deeply sleeping Xiao Jin, always feeling that although the other’s sleeping appearance remained cold as ever, the outline of her face traced in the mist seemed to soften considerably, becoming somewhat gentle.

Quiet as a doll that had lost all vitality, a beautiful, fragile piece of porcelain.

Chu Shao released the hand gripping Xiao Jin’s neck.

Smiling, she slowly leaned close to that expanse of fair skin. Just as she was about to part her lips and bite down, her elbow suddenly touched something soft.

Something… unexpectedly soft.

Chu Shao’s movements halted.

She froze.