He still harbored dreams of using the Empress Regnant’s influence to convince his father to name him the new King of the Western Regions. He could not allow a mere female favorite to ruin his grand design.
Baili Xuan, the Prince of Baiyue who had arrived alongside him, shared similar concerns.
As the eldest son of the Baiyue royal family, Baili Xuan should have been the rightful heir to the throne. However, his father was a man who favored his concubine over his queen, doting on his youngest son to the point of obsession. The King had repeatedly proposed naming the younger brother, Baili Qing, as the crown prince during court sessions.
Originally, Baili Xuan hadn’t been particularly attached to the throne. Yet his younger brother viewed him as a constant stumbling block, threatening him both openly and in the shadows. Baili Qing had made it clear: once he ascended the throne, neither Baili Xuan nor the Queen would be spared.
Driven by desperation, Baili Xuan had no choice but to seek external aid to break the deadlock.
As for the Princess of the Western Regions, Lou Yanhui, she had not come seeking political leverage, nor did she have any intention of joining the Empress Regnant’s harem. Her journey to the capital of the Kingdom of Luo was for… another matter entirely.
Thinking of the person she had missed and worried over for so long, a flicker of vulnerability and longing crossed Lou Yanhui’s frost-cold features.
She… had long since been filled with regret.
Once she finally understood the depths of her own heart, she had spent two full years systematically subjugating or destroying every major power in the Western Regions. Now, her word was law across those lands. No one was left to stand in the way of them being together.
Now, she was going to claim her love.
Only…
Little Jin, are you still waiting for me?
Upon leaving the Imperial Palace, Lou Yanhui shook off her attendants and boarded a nondescript, windowless carriage alone. The carriage wound through winding streets and narrow alleys before finally coming to a halt before a prestigious-looking estate.
Gazing at the words “Princess Manor” inscribed in a bold, flowing script upon the plaque, Lou Yanhui took a deep breath and knocked on the heavy gates.
“Who is it?”
The gates slowly groaned open from within. Lou Yanhui did not recognize the sentry, but when she produced the jade pendant Luo Yunjin had left her—a symbol of her identity—she was immediately ushered inside.
What met her eyes was a desolate, bleak courtyard.
Lou Yanhui’s brow furrowed, her heart racing with trepidation. Little Jin said she would wait for me. She wouldn’t break her word, would she?
“Is your Princess in the manor?” Lou Yanhui’s voice was hoarse with tension. She stared at the guard without blinking.
She saw the guard’s brow twitch as if the question were strange. However, after glancing at the jade pendant she gripped so tightly, he finally answered.
“Her Highness hasn’t left the manor in two years.”
Two years? That was exactly when Little Jin had left the Western Regions.
Over those two years, Lou Yanhui had sent countless letters, yet she had never received a single reply. Was Little Jin still angry with her?
After asking for directions to the main hall, Lou Yanhui—usually so composed—rushed forward with urgent steps. She was desperate to see the person who had occupied her every waking thought. She wanted to know if, over these two years, the other woman had missed her just as much.
However, the further she walked, the deeper her frown became. Why were there so few servants in such a vast estate?
It wasn’t until she reached the main hall that she encountered a somewhat familiar figure. Lou Yanhui suppressed the excitement surging in her chest and called out:
“Jiuming.”
Jiuming, who had been leaning against a pillar with her eyes closed and her sword held to her chest, frowned and looked up at the sound.
The moment she recognized the visitor, her face turned cold. Her hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of her sword.
Lou Yanhui didn’t notice Jiuming’s hostile shift; her mind was entirely consumed by her beloved. Jiuming was Little Jin’s Secret Guard, and the two were practically inseparable. If Jiuming was here, then Little Jin had to be here as well.
The knot in Lou Yanhui’s chest loosened slightly. She was about to ask where her Little Jin was when she was interrupted by Jiuming’s low, furious snarl.
“Get out! Get out of the Princess Manor!”
“My Master will not see you again.”
Lou Yanhui froze, the words feeling like a physical blow that shattered all her hope.
“Is it… that Little Jin doesn’t want to see me?” Lou Yanhui asked softly, her fingertips trembling uncontrollably.
Had Little Jin finally given up on her? Lou Yanhui had cleared away every obstacle; there was no one left to stop them. But did Little Jin no longer love her? If so, what was the point of everything she had endured over the last two years?
As Lou Yanhui spiraled into panic and confusion…
Jiuming, clad in black, fought the overwhelming urge to run the woman through. She watched Lou Yanhui’s collapse with cold, detached eyes.
Hasn’t my Master suffered enough because of her? Now she decides to come looking? Where was she when it mattered!
Thinking of her Master’s current state, Jiuming’s gaze grew predatory. It seemed as though if Lou Yanhui took even one more step forward, Jiuming would not hesitate to put a blade to her throat.
Lou Yanhui lowered her gaze, hiding the despair in her eyes, and whispered, “How is she? Is she… doing well?”
At that, Jiuming could no longer restrain herself. Her sword cleared its scabbard in a flash, the tip pointing directly at the space between Lou Yanhui’s brows.
“Begone, or die where you stand!”
Jiuming’s voice was even colder than her gaze. Lou Yanhui’s heart plummeted into an icy abyss. Jiuming had always been strictly obedient to Little Jin; more often than not, the guard’s attitude was a direct reflection of her Master’s will.
Was this what Little Jin wanted?
Though her heart throbbed with pain, Lou Yanhui remained stubborn. She needed an answer.
“Where is she? I must see her!”
Even if Little Jin truly hated her, she wanted to hear it from her own lips.
Jiuming said nothing, merely sneering as she lunged the sword tip forward. As the blade grazed Lou Yanhui’s forehead, the princess could feel the biting chill of the steel and the raw killing intent behind it.
Without the slightest hesitation, Lou Yanhui stepped forward. The moment her skin touched the tip, a bead of crimson blood bloomed on her forehead.
Jiuming instinctively withdrew the blade. No matter how furious she was, she remembered that this woman was the person her Master cherished most in the world. Her Master would not want to see this woman hurt, and Jiuming could not bear to cause her Master more grief.
Lou Yanhui reached out to push open the doors to the hall. Even as she felt the lethal pressure of a sword point pressed against her back—aimed directly at her heart—her movements did not falter.
Yet, the ordinary wooden doors felt as heavy as a thousand pounds in her hands. Jiuming’s behavior allowed her to guess what kind of reception waited for her. But she still had to see Little Jin. She had to know if there was even the slightest chance for a second beginning.
Creeeeeak.
The doors swung open slowly. The sight that greeted Lou Yanhui turned her limbs to ice.
A coffin made of Phoebe zhennan wood, lacquered in vermillion and carved with phoenixes, sat squarely in the center of the main hall.
Aside from a mess of wine jars scattered across the floor, there was no sign of life in the room.
Lou Yanhui bit her tongue hard, the sharp tang of blood allowing her to maintain a shred of sanity. After a long, agonizing silence, she asked in a trembling voice:
“Where… where is Little Jin?”
Jiuming retracted the sword from her back, her face grim and silent.
“She’s… she’s still alive… right?”
Watching the dazed, stumbling Lou Yanhui enter the room, Jiuming remained silent.
Perhaps, she thought, Master has been waiting for this person for a very long time.
None of the royal family has any interest in men!