“How is the disaster situation in Yumu County?”
Zhuyu was momentarily stunned, unsure why Zhao Huairen had suddenly brought up the distant Yumu County. After a pause, she gestured: The floods are severe, and the local magistrate has already submitted a request for aid.
A faint glimmer flashed across Zhao Huairen’s light brown eyes. She lowered her gaze and said, “Within the next few days, His Majesty will issue a decree for disaster relief.”
The assassination of the Vice Minister of War and the disaster in Yumu County.
Was there some connection between the two that she hadn’t seen?
Doubt flickered in her eyes, and Zhuyu’s face clearly showed her questions.
“Let’s go. We should head to Dali Temple now.” Zhao Huairen didn’t answer her unspoken queries. After destroying the secret letter, she rose and walked toward the door.
Yan Yiqing had been waiting by the window, timing it perfectly. The moment Zhao Huairen stepped out of the study, she “coincidentally” emerged from the main room.
Zhao Huairen greeted her politely, “Good morning, Young Master Yan.”
“Good morning. Did the Heir sleep well last night?” Looking at Zhao Huairen, Yan Yiqing curved her lips in a perfectly natural smile—one she had practiced in the mirror. It wasn’t exaggerated, but warm enough to feel like a spring breeze.
They both wore scarlet official robes with golden belts.
Yet today, Yan Yiqing seemed slightly different from usual.
“What’s wrong? Did the Heir not sleep well last night?”
Zhao Huairen withdrew her gaze imperceptibly, her thin lips pressing together slightly. “Thanks to Young Master Yan’s blessing, I slept very well last night.”
“That’s good.” Yan Yiqing replied.
The two walked side by side along the bluestone path.
Their figures were similarly tall, both dressed in the same scarlet casual robes.
“It’s not fully summer yet, but the days are already getting warmer.” Yan Yiqing folded her fingers to fan herself, stealing glances at Zhao Huairen now and then.
Her steps were steady and elegant.
Zhao Huairen kept her eyes forward and didn’t respond.
Thinking she had spoken too softly, Yan Yiqing cleared her throat and tried again, “It’s not fully summer yet, but the days are brightening earlier, and it seems to be getting warmer these past few days.”
Zhao Huairen turned her head to look at her. “Is Young Master Yan speaking to me?”
There was no one here except her and Zhuyu. Who else would she be talking to—chatting with a mute woman out of madness? Yan Yiqing suppressed her inner retort and bit her lip. “Can’t I talk to you?”
Zhao Huairen shook her head lightly and gave her a meaningful look.
“Right? I can talk to you.”
“Young Master Yan said before that one should focus while walking.” Zhao Huairen arched a brow deliberately. “I didn’t remember wrong, did I?”
The words had come from her own mouth, and trying to backtrack now wouldn’t work… Yan Yiqing scratched her ear awkwardly and explained, “I didn’t know the way before, but now I’m familiar with the Duke Mansion. I can chat while walking.”
“I see.”
A barely perceptible amusement flickered in her eyes.
Her lashes trembled slightly, but Zhao Huairen ultimately didn’t expose her clumsy excuse.
—
Outside Duke Rui’s Mansion, Qin An was already waiting by the carriage.
Dali Temple and Si Nong Temple were not far apart. The first time after their marriage when they had gone to their posts, Zhao Huairen had politely invited Yan Yiqing to share the carriage, but she had been bluntly refused. After that, she never mentioned it again.
They lived in the same courtyard and worked at nearby offices, yet no one had ever seen them ride together in one carriage.
Each time, one rode horseback while the other took the carriage.
News of their discord had long spread through Yanjing.
Given their history of clashing, it wasn’t surprising that they despised each other after this sudden arranged marriage.
Zhao Huairen nodded slightly to Qin An.
As she stepped onto the mounting stone and prepared to lift the carriage curtain—
“Heir, could you give me a ride?”
Zhao Huairen turned at the sound.
She stood alone under the mansion’s plaque.
Her fingertips clenched her sleeve, her eyes carrying a cautious fear of rejection.
Whenever Zhao Huairen recalled Yan Yiqing in her mind, it was always the defiant figure in dark armor, proud and unyielding. Seeing her so restrained now stirred an inexplicable discomfort in her heart.
“Of course.” Her jet-black lashes hid the emotions in her eyes as Zhao Huairen extended her hand.
The heavy stone weighing on Yan Yiqing’s chest finally lifted. Staring at her palm, her obsidian eyes gleamed faintly. “Thank you, Heir.”
Her palm was spotless.
Yet she wiped it on her sleeve subconsciously.
Her callused fingertips rested lightly on the soft palm. Yan Yiqing wanted to grip tightly but restrained herself to a gentle hold.
Noticing her gaze on her fingers, Yan Yiqing flushed slightly. “Are my hands too rough?”
She could feel Zhao Huairen’s softness.
Surely, she could feel her own roughness too.
“You’ve worked hard.”
Yan Yiqing looked up abruptly. “What?”
“General Yan has guarded the borders for years. You’ve worked hard.”
A warm, slightly humid fragrance crossed time and the lands of Great Yong, gently stroking the girl’s head and brushing away the sand from her hair.
Yan Yiqing stared down at her toes.
She bit her lower lip hard and slipped into the carriage without a word.
“What’s wrong with her now?” Qin An mouthed, looking at her own Heir left outside the carriage.
A complex scrutiny flashed in Zhao Huairen’s eyes.
She lifted the curtain and entered the carriage as well.
Her hands rested loosely on her knees. Seeing Zhao Huairen get in, Yan Yiqing immediately grumbled, “There was sand in the wind, and some got in my eyes just now.”
“Feeling better now?” Zhao Huairen asked gently.
Yan Maomao pursed her lips and nodded lightly.
Zhuyu removed the mounting stone and sat beside Qin An on the carriage shaft. Once she was settled, Qin An lightly tugged the reins, and the horse began to trot forward.
“Why is she willing to ride in the carriage today?” Qin An whispered, her voice trailing off amid the rumbling wheels.
Zhuyu glanced back at the carriage and shook her head.
“Young Master Yan.” Zhao Huairen took the initiative to break the awkward silence.
She fiddled absently with the callus on her fingertip, glanced up at her, and Yan Yiqing said softly, “You’re also a Vice Minister, and I’m a Vice Minister too. It’s hard to tell us apart. You can just call me Yiqing.”
Zhao Huairen hadn’t expected that response—it deviated from her predictions. Her phoenix eyes narrowed slightly. “Whatever you prefer, as long as it feels right to you.”
Yan Yiqing’s movements suddenly stopped, and she stared at her intently.
“Yiqing.”
She pinched her earlobe and replied, “Mm.”
The conversation veered far from her expectations, and Zhao Huairen frowned slightly. She cut straight to the point, “Young Mas—Yiqing, don’t you have anything you want to say to me?”
“Say what?” Yan Yiqing lifted her gaze.
“Have you heard about the Vice Minister of War being assassinated in his residence last night?”
There was no evidence left at the scene.
From start to finish, including Shi Yun Si himself, everyone pointed to the Meng Family.
Why would Zhao Huairen suspect her?
A cool voice echoed in the carriage again, laced with a subtle probe. Zhao Huairen met her eyes. “Starting from last night, you’ve been sneaking around me constantly.”
“Sneaking around?” Yan Yiqing frowned.
“Of course, that doesn’t prove anything on its own.” Zhao Huairen paused, realization dawning in her eyes. “What matters is what happens after the Vice Minister of War dies.”
The process didn’t matter.
Only the outcome pointed to the truth.
“The Meng and Shi families have long clashed politically. With him dead, Meng Shu Ting is naturally pleased.”
“Beyond that, what benefit does he gain?”
“He wouldn’t get the meat and still stir up trouble. He’s a Minister of the court, after all—he’s not that foolish.”
Yan Yiqing straightened her shoulders, meeting her scrutiny head-on.
“If I’m not mistaken…” Zhao Huairen toyed with the jade pendant at her waist, saying casually, “Soon, Yiqing, you’ll be promoted straight to the Ministry of War.”
She had no prior dealings with Shi Yun Si, no evidence pointed her way, and even the Hejia Princess was insisting on the Meng Family. How did Huairen know?
“You’ll find out in time, so… do you want my help in this matter?”
Confusion clouded Yan Yiqing’s eyes as she frowned. “Help me with what?”
“Haven’t you already calculated it?” Seeing her continued bewilderment, Zhao Huairen frowned and explained, “You know the Hejia Princess won’t agree to the Ministry of Punishment taking the lead. The case will end up at Dali Temple, or at least jointly handled with Punishment.”
“I didn’t know.” Yan Yiqing clenched her fists.
“Then what were you doing last night?”
It was true she coveted the Vice Minister position, but Dark Tower’s actions left no traces. They had prepared a perfect scapegoat for the assassination. She had never intended to use Zhao Huairen.
Dali Temple…
Before learning her identity.
She truly hadn’t paid much attention to Dali Temple.
Every phrase flashing in her mind was like an ink-stained brush—trying to explain would only make it worse. She couldn’t mention Mingjing Division or Dark Tower, nor reveal that she knew Zhao Huairen’s identity.
Explaining under these constraints was utterly indefensible.
Seeing her brows furrowed yet silent, Zhao Huairen parted her thin lips. “What’s wrong? Why won’t you speak?”
“Will you help me?”
There was no solid evidence pointing at her. Zhao Huairen had expected her to deflect or evade, but she never imagined Yan Yiqing would admit it outright. She was momentarily stunned.
“If you’re willing to help, then I’ll owe you a favor. I’ll protect you from now on.” Emotions unreadable in her eyes, her nails left white marks on her palm as Yan Yiqing stared fixedly at her.
The moment she received the secret letter, Zhao Huairen had planned the follow-up. But every reaction from Yan Yiqing was outside her expectations.
“Even if I suspect you, without your admission, I might not find evidence.”
“You’ll help me.”
With lowered brows, Zhao Huairen asked softly, “Why would I help you?”
“Will you help me?”
Her pale lips pressed into a straight line. Zhao Huairen frowned at her, eyes filled with confusion and wariness.
Why was she so certain?
That she would definitely help?
Could Yan Yiqing have… No, impossible. Only she knew about Yumu County—not even Zhuyu had been told.
“I believe in you.” Yan Yiqing’s voice was soft, but those four words carried weight.
A small pebble struck the frozen lake surface.
The force wasn’t great, yet it left a mark on the hard ice.
“I don’t need your protection.” Scraping her nail against her fingertip, Zhao Huairen’s voice was cool as spring water. “I need a promise from you.”
“Okay.”
Zhao Huairen’s gaze was complex. “You won’t even ask what I want you to do?”
“I’m your wife. You won’t harm me.”
This baseless trust sent a strange panic through the strategist. Her fingertips curled slightly as Zhao Huairen said coldly, “In Yanjing, it’s best not to trust others lightly.”
But you’re not others.
Yan Yiqing lowered her eyes. “Mm, thank you for the reminder, Heir.”
