The woman standing against the light had a tall, slender figure.
The warm sun shone mildly, but upon her, it all turned to frost.
Gazing at her back, Zhuyu’s brows furrowed as tightly as they could. Although Zhao Huairen hadn’t said a word, Zhuyu grew even more worried.
This family didn’t know the origins of the item.
But this token—she and the Heir Apparent—recognized it clearly.
“My Lord… you saved this old man’s entire family. I shouldn’t ask for more… but my son and daughter are still young. I beg you to consider…” Sun Shi trembled as he spoke. He knew the item in his hand was tied to grave matters, no different from a death warrant for his family. “This old man has never seen this token before…”
A hot potato hidden in the house for years.
He didn’t dare discard it casually, nor hand it over to the court.
If the rightful person could take it away, it would resolve one of his worries. But… he didn’t want to come forward as a witness, nor did he want his family dragged into it.
Hong Xiujie understood the meaning in his words. Her heart pounded faster than ever before. She clenched her teeth and dropped to her knees with a thud. “This common woman found this item by chance seven years ago and entrusted it to my father for safekeeping. Lord Zhao! This common woman is willing to testify for you!”
“Xiaojie!” Hearing his daughter’s words, Sun Shi shuddered all over.
A flash of surprise passed through Zhuyu’s eyes.
She might even lose her life for it.
She hadn’t expected Hong Xiujie to dare come forward as a witness?
Kneeling on the ground, Hong Xiujie straightened up. She looked up at Zhao Huairen, her face pale but her gaze resolute. “Lord Zhao, this common woman once promised you that as long as you saved my father and brother, I would go through fire and water for you!”
“Shut your mouth!” Sun Shi roared at her. He held up the token in his palms high and prostrated himself, crying out, “Lord Zhao… Lord Zhao, please don’t listen to my foolish daughter’s nonsense. I beg you… to grant this old man’s wish.”
“Father—” Hong Xiujie stubbornly refused to yield.
Zhao Huairen’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before she calmly shifted it away. Her thin lips parted slightly, and her voice, cold as fine jade, grew even clearer than before. “This official promises you. Pretend you’ve never seen this thing.”
“Thank you, my Lord!” Sun Shi hurriedly kowtowed in gratitude.
Without needing Zhao Huairen to speak, Zhuyu understood her intent. She stepped forward and took the token from Sun Shi’s hands.
The breeze carrying frost paused briefly in the courtyard.
It left no trace behind before vanishing without a shadow.
Even after they left, Hong Xiujie didn’t rise from the ground. She stared unblinkingly at the back of her hand, her eyes filled with complex, chaotic emotions—fleeting fear, and an indescribable regret.
She might have risked her life.
But she always felt that it was a completely different world.
–
The carriage departed from the decaying village.
It kicked up yellow dust, leaving two shallow ruts behind.
Not only had they obtained testimony on this trip, but also physical evidence. They could almost call it a triumphant return. But—the atmosphere inside the carriage was chillingly cold.
Her distinct knuckles hovered in a loose grip over her knee.
Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes lowered slightly, her long lashes veiling the emotions in her gaze.
The not-so-large half token felt immensely heavy in her hand. Zhuyu watched her own Heir Apparent with worried eyes, but for some reason… the calmer Zhao Huairen seemed, the more afraid Zhuyu felt.
“I’m fine.”
Seeing Zhao Huairen look at her, Zhuyu raised her hand and made a few gestures, hoping to divert her attention.
“Take her to testify?” The fingers resting on her knee curled slightly. Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes were serene as she said faintly, “Even with both witness and evidence in hand, who will pass sentence on him? The law… can only judge those under its domain.”
That person stood at the pinnacle of Great Yong.
“When the Son of Heaven breaks the law, he is punished like the common folk”—it was just a story told to the commoners.
In her year at the Dali Temple, Zhao Huairen had pieced together from fragments that Liu Zhengkang was the mastermind behind the case. Unfortunately, she lacked concrete evidence, and there was always one—self-contradictory crux.
Her father hadn’t been alone at the time.
Liu Zhengkang wasn’t in Yanjing and had no spare capacity to set such a deadly trap.
So, he must have had other accomplices. Back then, the Meng clan was weak, the Lin clan was watching from the sidelines, and aside from the Deposed Crown Prince’s faction, no other clans had the power to orchestrate it.
Except…
“Give it to me.” It was like the final crisp crack before an ice river split—clear and cold.
Zhuyu pressed her lips together. Looking into Zhao Huairen’s eyes, she unconsciously gripped the half token tighter.
Zhao Huairen didn’t urge her.
She simply extended her hand, her eyes devoid of emotion.
Zhuyu gripped the token so tightly that its edges pressed red marks into her palm, but she shook her head as if unaware of the pain. Yet in the end, under Zhao Huairen’s gaze, Zhuyu still handed the token over—
A stabbing, grotesque weight pressed into her palm.
The shattered insignia roared silently, desperately accusing a truth.
The cold metallic tang instantly seeped into her skin. Zhao Huairen closed her fingers, letting the broken edges dig harshly into her palm flesh. Her knuckles whitened from the excessive force, blue veins bulging on the back of her hand, while sharp pain lanced through her palm.
A drop of warm, sticky liquid oozed slowly from between her tightly clenched fingers. The scarlet blood droplet fell onto her robe, scorching like azalea tears.
The worry in her eyes turned to panic in an instant.
Zhuyu’s throat squeezed out a few hoarse sounds. Ignoring the difference in status, she reached to snatch the token from her hand.
Zhao Huairen lowered her gaze to her clenched fist, her voice very soft. “Do you think… Mother was involved?”
A question impossible to answer.
Zhuyu grew so anxious she nearly spoke.
She shook her head vigorously and tugged at Zhao Huairen’s wrist.
The moment her fingertips touched the wrist, the clenched palm suddenly relaxed. The bloodstained token clattered to the floor.
Her crow-black lashes cast heavy shadows beneath her eyes.
Completely veiling the scorching storm that threatened to destroy everything.
Zhuyu watched Zhao Huairen in trepidation, unsure what to do. She wanted to pat her shoulder. But the Heir Apparent never needed her comfort.
“No… urp—”
The soothing words caught between her teeth.
The moment she made a sound, a surge of burning nausea roiled in her stomach.
Zhao Huairen abruptly turned her face away, her thin lips pressed into a tight line. But the foul, rotten bitterness still rushed up her throat.
Fine cold sweat beaded on her pale forehead.
Her long lashes were soaked with tears, like ink-black crow feathers.
Zhuyu had never seen Zhao Huairen like this. She grew frantic like an ant on a hot pan, making squeaking gas sounds and gesturing hurriedly: Heir Apparent, it’s just a token… Madam might not know. Madam definitely doesn’t know…
The cracked blue porcelain endured unbearable weight time and again. The water leaking from the fissures was her blood, yet she tirelessly bore the scars as her innate mark.
The storm-torn petals drifting on the lake sank to the bottom, leaving no trace of life.
She didn’t know how much time passed.
Half a cup of tea, perhaps a quarter-hour.
“I left too early today and forgot breakfast.” Zhao Huairen bent down to pick up the half token. She took a brocade handkerchief from her sleeve and elegantly wiped the blood from it. “Sorry for worrying you.”
Zhuyu looked up at her, shook her head, and silently lowered her eyes.
–
At the third quarter of the chen hour, sunlight pierced through the gaps in the branches, sprinkling onto the ground and drying the moisture between the veins.
She sat on a small stool at the steps of the official residence.
Humming a tune, Yan Yiqing spun a fresh ink-black envelope in one hand.
She had already written the letter Huairen wanted. When she returned, she’d hand it over for her to see, then settle accounts with her… Hmph. They’d agreed she’d take care of her, but she’d vanished at dawn.
“Whoa~” The carriage bearing Duke Rui’s Mansion insignia stopped steadily at the official residence gate. The coachman yanked the reins tight and swiftly placed the mounting stone.
Her dark, glossy pupils filled with anticipation. Yan Yiqing pursed her lips, forcibly suppressing some of the joy in her eyes.
She was still angry…
She couldn’t seem that devoted.
Zhuyu raised her hand to lift the carriage curtain. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Yan Maomao waiting by the door, and her lashes trembled ever so slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Seeing her hesitate, Zhao Huairen asked warmly.
The fingers gripping the curtain tightened a fraction. Zhuyu shook her head slightly and shifted aside to make way for Zhao Huairen.
An indigo hem swept out of the carriage.
Like flowing seawater, brushing coolly through the air.
Sitting on the stool, Yan Yiqing’s eyes brightened. She instinctively straightened, but suppressed the urge to stand, instead sitting calmly as if waiting patiently.
Catching sight of the figure at the door.
A faint, almost imperceptible glint flashed in the serene phoenix eyes.
Her steps steady as always, Zhao Huairen ascended the stone steps slowly. She passed by without stopping.
Yan Yiqing, who had deliberately turned her head toward the wall—
Only realized something was wrong when the clear, cold fragrance brushed past her shoulder.
?!
She was still mad first?!
Unhappy, Yan Maomao flicked her tail. She jumped up from the stool and hurried after the graceful figure not far ahead. “Heir Apparent, didn’t you see me? I was sitting right at the door—a big person like me!”
She didn’t stop at the call.
The woman tightened her fingers in her sleeve and headed straight for the study.
Wow?! Forgot after one dream?
Her peach-blossom eyes watered with anger again. Yan Yiqing trotted two steps and grabbed Zhao Huairen’s wrist with one hand, stopping her fiercely. “Heir Apparent—”
The fresh red stood out starkly on the back of her hand.
Like red plums fallen into snow—piercing and resolute.
“Who did this?” Fury ignited in her eyes as Yan Yiqing frowned and asked.
Wanting to pull her hand back but mindful of the injury, Zhao Huairen furrowed her sword brows slightly. Her shell-like teeth nipped her lip lightly as she explained softly, “I just accidentally cut it. Let go.”
“How could you be so careless? Tsk… you’re such an idiot…” Seeing Zhao Huairen fall silent, Yan Yiqing scratched at her wrist to force her palm open. After seeing the injury clearly, a hard-to-describe shadow flashed in her eyes.
How could it be just a cut like that?
The wound on Huairen’s palm was clearly from gripping something sharp.
Catching the fleeting doubt in Maomao’s eyes, Zhao Huairen suddenly tried to withdraw her hand while she was distracted—
With a soft clack.
The token slipped straight from her sleeve to the ground.
Her attention fixed on Zhao Huairen, Yan Yiqing—who had “captured” her wife for the second time—wrinkled her nose, her voice laced with clear pique. “Hiding what? If I really wanted to grab you, do you think you could escape?”
She couldn’t use force on Qingqing.
What if she accidentally tugged the wound.
Unable to think of an excuse to send her away, Zhao Huairen’s lashes trembled faintly. She said softly, “Young Master Yan, I want to be alone for a while.”
Yan Yiqing had originally planned to wait for Zhao Huairen to uncover the true culprit from back then herself. Once she discovered it was the dog emperor, she could… pull Huairen to their side.
But now, it didn’t seem right.
After learning the truth, Huairen—was very sad.
Wasn’t it the dog emperor?
Impossible. Who else could it be?
“What happened?” Yan Yiqing softened her voice as much as possible, like a stealthy little cat.
An unspeakable secret.
She didn’t even know how to comprehend it herself.
Let alone how to explain it to someone else.
A rare vulnerability showed in the serene phoenix eyes. Zhao Huairen shook her head gently. Though she tried to restrain it, her voice was still much colder than usual. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Young Master Yan, don’t press me.”
Afraid of making her sadder without knowing the reason, the stubborn Yan Maomao finally decided to respect Zhao Huairen’s wishes.
“Promise me one thing, and I’ll let you go.”
Zhao Huairen endured patiently. “What?”
“Remember… to clean the wound.” Before Zhao Huairen could agree, she released her hold. Maomao sneaked a glance at her, pouting as she said, “It’s almost summer. If you don’t treat it, it’ll easily fester.”
The cracks oozing blood drop by drop.
Blocked bit by bit by Maomao’s body and paws.
Seeing Zhao Huairen stare at her silently, thinking she didn’t care about the wound, Yan Yiqing frowned. “The Heir Apparent’s wound looks shallow, but it’s messy and numerous. If not treated properly, it’ll hurt for days.”
“Hey, are you listening?” Yan Yiqing waved her right palm in front of her.
“What about your injury?”
Yan Yiqing replied without hesitation, “I’m different from you.”
Like a withered leaf drifting aimlessly, unable to find a place to land.
Until it finally returned to its home amid the faint light.
“What’s so different?” Zhao Huairen lowered her eyes, her tone soft and carrying a hint of knowing pretense.
“That’s not what I meant.” Her fluffy ear tips flushed faintly pink. Yan Yiqing tucked away all her cloyingly sweet affection deep in her heart and feigned casualness. “I’ve already been injured. If the Shizi gets hurt too, then who will take care of me?”
“So that’s how it is.”
Maomao nodded, then earnestly reminded her again, “So, Shizi, you must remember to clean the wound.”
“Alright.” Zhao Huairen softly agreed.
The heart that had been lodged in her throat finally settled. Seeing Zhao Huairen about to bend down, Yan Yiqing beat her to it and lowered her head first, picking up the item that had fallen to the ground. Her fingertips brushed against the cold, hard iron and copper, and she frowned as she asked, “What is this?”
“A broken piece of a token.”
…
She had eyes too, of course she could see it was a broken token.
Maomao imperceptibly pursed her lips. Seeing that her lady didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t press further. “Put it in your sleeve?”
It was like taking care of a little girl who hadn’t grown up yet.
Yan Yiqing lifted Zhao Huairen’s sleeve and returned the token to its owner.
Her gaze subtly swept over Zhao Huairen’s left shoulder. Zhao Huairen’s fingertips trembled slightly, but she said nothing and turned to leave.
Maomao gazed at the beauty’s unyielding back.
She kicked at the fallen leaves by her feet, her eyes filled with unconcealed resentment.
She picked up the thing and left just like that—even though she was the one who had picked it up for her! Not even a thank you. To Huairen, she… wasn’t even as important as that broken token…
What kind of lousy token was this?
As she grumbled, Yan Yiqing’s gaze suddenly froze.
She seemed to… have seen this token somewhere before.
