Chapter 25: Sister-in-Law: Eyes Locked Part 2

“I’ll relay what you’ve told me to Minister Meng.” Resuming his elder’s demeanor, he cleared his throat. “But you’re far too arrogant. Some words can’t be spoken lightly—that’s treasonous.”

Zhao Huairen lowered her phoenix eyes. “Thank you for the guidance, Uncle.”

Her attitude was utterly deferential.

Yet Wang Qiyong vaguely felt she didn’t take him seriously at all.

“Alright, Minister Meng is still waiting for me.”

“Take care, Uncle.” She dipped her head slightly in a bow.

Wang Qiyong glanced at the impeccably courteous Zhao Huairen, flicked his sleeves, and departed. He couldn’t help rubbing the goosebumps on his arm, thinking: The late spring breeze was more biting than winter’s chill.

Zhao Huairen stood alone under the corridor.

Bamboo shadows danced, moonlight speckling her eyes.

Her light brown eyes were gentle and serene, the beauty’s lips curved in a smile, yet the edge about her overshadowed the surrounding splendor.

“Huai Jin brother!”

Hearing the call from behind, the coldness in Zhao Huairen’s eyes softened somewhat. She turned and asked, “It’s so late—why are you running around?”

“This is a Paired Heart Knot Jade Pendant I wove myself.” Zhao Qingyue offered the indigo brocade box, blinking. “One green, one white—you and Sister-in-Law each get one.”

Sister-in-Law…

Had she originally planned to address Yan Yiqing that way too?

“What is Huai Jin brother thinking?” Zhao Qingyue peered over.

A faint flush crossed her phoenix eyes, barely noticeable. Zhao Huairen pressed her lips and took the box. “Your tutor says your studies have fallen behind lately.”

At those words, the little girl shrank back immediately.

Here we go again! She truly couldn’t fathom why Zhao Huairen monitored her and Zhao Yueqing’s lessons more closely than even her two older brothers’.

“It’s not like… learning helps anyway.”

Zhao Huairen’s sword brows furrowed slightly. “Literacy and knowledge belong to you once learned—how could it be useless?”

“Girls can’t take the imperial exams.” Zhao Qingyue pouted, murmuring, “Even if I excel at home studies, no one would be happy for me.”

“I would.”

Zhao Qingyue’s eyes lit up at that, but dimmed soon after. “But… girls still can’t enter court as officials.”

“Why not?” Zhao Huairen countered.

Meeting her gaze, Zhao Qingyue blinked, then realized belatedly, “Right—Sister-in-Law is Vice Minister of the Si Nong Temple.”

“Women can be generals and enter court as officials.” Her voice, laced with a cool edge, soothed the heart, like stars falling into the Milky Way, rippling outward. “Study diligently—I won’t let your efforts go to waste.”

Under Zhao Huairen’s gentle, affirming gaze,

Zhao Qingyue nodded lightly, her steps much lighter.

The crimson robe brushed softly over the stone steps.

Sister and little sister enjoyed a rare moment alone.

The girl in her tender years brimmed with whimsical thoughts. Zhao Qingyue suddenly halted and turned back. “Huai Jin brother, is Sister-in-Law very fierce?”

Images flashed in her mind: Yan Yiqing in high spirits, crouching before gold ingots, standing under a tree in tears. A tenderness crept into Zhao Huairen’s eyes, unnoticed even by herself. “Mm… not bad. Why do you ask suddenly?”

“People outside say she’s ruthless, kills without batting an eye.”

Zhao Huairen lowered her gaze to the curious girl and asked softly, “Qingyue, do you like killing?”

“How could I? All that blood is so scary!”

“Then she wouldn’t like it either.”

“But I heard someone saw her hang a person’s head on her horse’s saddle as decoration.”

Her fingertips lightly rubbed the edge of the brocade box as Zhao Huairen pursed her lips. “There might be some misunderstanding in that.”

Zhao Qingyue nodded thoughtfully. Then, a sly glint flashed across her almond-shaped eyes. She lifted her chin and asked, “But what if Sister-in-Law just likes killing people?”

Mercy does not command soldiers.

A general was never truly free.

“She has her reasons for doing so.”

Like a squirrel discovering something novel, Zhao Qingyue’s eyes sparkled, her voice crisp. “Brother, you like Sister-in-Law so much.”

Her footsteps suddenly halted. Zhao Huairen frowned. “Stop reading those ridiculous storybooks.”

From a young age, she had always taken good care of Zhao Qingyue. Even though Zhao Huairen looked stern now, Zhao Qingyue wasn’t too afraid. “I’m not wrong. Every word you say defends Sister-in-Law. My father never protected my mother like that…”

It wasn’t favoritism toward Yan Yiqing.

She was simply thinking rationally.

“Besides, Sister-in-Law is your wife. What’s there to be embarrassed about favoring her?”

The girl spoke every word with conviction. Zhao Huairen gripped the brocade box tightly, at a rare loss for words.

“Wow, Brother can get shy too?”

Zhao Qingyue had always greatly admired Zhao Huairen, thinking she was perfect in every way, except perhaps a bit too emotionless. But now, it seemed different?

Humming a little tune, the girl said, “Ever since Brother entered officialdom, it’s been so long since we talked like this.”

Zhao Huairen’s gaze fell on the girl who seemed to have grown a bit taller. She lowered her eyes to the brocade box in her hand, about to speak—when her expression suddenly changed.

Tonight’s wedding banquet separated men and women. How did Qingyue know where she was?

“Qingyue, how did you know I was at Listening Wind Pavilion?” Zhao Huairen asked gravely.

Unsure why she suddenly asked this, Zhao Qingyue tilted her head and recalled, “I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow to give the congratulatory gift, but Xiangrou told me a female servant said she saw Brother heading to Listening Wind Pavilion.”

It was a joyous day with countless guests.

The female servants in each courtyard were all run off their feet.

Someone in Duke Mansion who could keep tabs on her, know the depth of her relationship with Qingyue, and leak information to Xiangrou to use Qingyue to delay her…

Her breath hitched for a beat.

Her crimson robe sliced through the air as Zhao Huairen turned and dashed toward Linzhu Courtyard.

–

Drifting clouds veiled the moon, casting the stone path in flickering light and shadow. Fallen petals on the steps were swept up by the hem of her robe.

Countless strands of dark hair scattered across the soft pillow.

Having removed her hairpins, Yan Yiqing lay on the bed fully clothed.

The Xuan-iron dagger Zhaoye, which could cut iron like mud, lay harmlessly in her palm. Yan Yiqing stared boredly at the bed canopy and let out a lazy yawn.

People in Yanjing sure were inefficient.

If the assassin didn’t come soon, even she, the victim, would fall asleep.

She had originally thought that since Zhao Huaijin was Huairen’s brother, when the time came for blades to clash, she would spare his life.

But sometimes, there was just no helping it.

She wanted to show mercy, but others insisted on courting death.

She had to lure him outside to kill him. She couldn’t let blood stain Linzhu Courtyard—or the wisteria tree… She wanted to transplant that wisteria tree…

An extremely faint footstep sounded outside the window.

Her eyes sharpened. Gripping Zhaoye tightly, Yan Yiqing’s lips curved up slightly.

As the door was pushed open, moonlight broke through the clouds. The assassin’s shadow fell on the coiled-grass patterned tiles. Yan Yiqing was about to move—when her sharp ears twitched slightly.

“Crack.”

The brocade box slipped from her hand, its gilded edge slicing through the night.

The assassin turned to dodge but couldn’t fully avoid it. The edge of the box cut a gash across his neck, blood surging out.

She made out the intruder’s face.

Her eyes flickered. The assassin had no desire to linger.

Before he could flip over the wall to escape, Zhao Huairen flashed into view. Her left hand seized his left shoulder and twisted hard. The sound of tearing fabric mixed with the dull crack of a dislocated joint, resounding clearly in the quiet night.

“Heir Apparent,” the assassin gritted out.

Seeing she had stopped moving,

He breathed a sigh of relief, about to seize the chance to flee.

A heavy kick landed on him. Zhao Huairen stepped on his back, her gaze like she was looking at a dead man. “Half a shichen. Get the antidote to Linzhu Courtyard immediately.”

“Heir Apparent, I was acting on orders—”

Before he finished, the weight on his back increased again. He felt his spine would shatter.

Her nails dug deep into her palm. Zhao Huairen suppressed the urge to kill and forced the words through her teeth. “Go back and tell your master to drop this idea forever.”

“Yes…”

He felt that saying one more word would get him killed.

Swallowing the blood in his throat, the assassin scrambled away.

In the courtyard, only Zhao Huairen remained.

–

Sweat beaded on her smooth forehead.

The night breeze silently brushed past, stirring the loose strands of hair by her ear.

Taking a deep breath, Zhao Huairen steadied her emotions and slowly walked toward the main room.

Propped up on the bed with one leg crossed, Yan Yiqing had already pieced together the fight in the courtyard from the sounds alone. Now hearing Zhao Huairen’s footsteps, she gently closed her eyes.

Interesting.

A chuckle escaped her. Hero comes to the rescue of the beauty.

Though she had arrived in time, seeing Yan Yiqing seemingly unconscious stirred waves of lingering fear in Zhao Huairen’s heart.

If she hadn’t taken the initiative to drink that cup of wine, with Yan Yiqing’s personality, she probably wouldn’t have touched the dishes on that table. Mingchun had died saving her; she couldn’t bear for anyone else around her to be hurt because of her.

The candle flames crackled.

The door stood open, the night breeze making the red canopy billow up and down.

Her dark hair hung quietly by her ear, dense lashes casting shadows under her eyes. Yan Yiqing looked like a sleeping little black cat.

Zhao Huairen walked slowly to the bedside and pursed her lips. She cautiously reached out.

Feeling those hands slowly approaching her chest, Yan Yiqing cursed inwardly and flung Zhaoye out.

Her eyes snapped open.

But Yan Yiqing saw no lecherous rogue in panic.

Before her were only scattered cotton wads, and Zhao Huairen clutching the bed curtain.

Fortunately, Zhao Huairen dodged in time and blocked with the bedding, so her left hand wasn’t crippled by the strike. But a bloody mark marred her otherwise flawless face.

Their four eyes met.

The air filled with frozen silence.