Chapter 23: The State Preceptor Scheming to Overthrow the Court Part 1

Objects themselves were blameless; the sin lay in human hearts.

The young sovereign remained silent for a long time. The lamplight flickered in the wind, casting vast shadows across the empty white marble floor tiles of Xuande Hall. The silence stretched on endlessly, seemingly without end. Only after a long while did the voice from the head of the hall deliver a thin, cold decree.

“Extract it.”

She was indeed prone to anxiety and suspicion, but leaving the Mother Gu behind would always be a hidden danger. If one day the Mother Gu fell into someone else’s hands, it would be equivalent to grasping Shi Qingyi’s lifeline.

Moreover—

She looked toward the girl behind the gauze curtain. Her first half-life had already been so arduous. She ought to be free, unburdened and uncontrolled by anyone or anything—not even by herself.

She had already missed too much in the first half of her life. At the very least, she should not repeat the mistake.

The Miao Frontier physician looked up in astonishment. A wind blew through the hall, and the Female Sovereign’s voice sounded like a sigh.

“Those who wish to leave cannot be kept; those who wish to stay will not leave.”

After a long while, a hand quietly reached out from behind the gauze curtain and hooked into her palm.

The person had awakened from deep sleep without a sound—or perhaps she had never slept at all. Lying amid layers of cloud brocade, she slowly opened her eyes and extended a hand to the small of the Female Sovereign’s back, massaging her sore waist.

The Female Sovereign’s gaze darkened slightly. Unwilling to let others see the disheveled and languid woman, she leaned down to kiss her, pulling the gauze curtain closed with one hand. The Miao physician’s face flushed faintly, and she tactfully withdrew.

In the heat of passion, Shi Qingyi kissed the wound on her heart where an arrow had pierced through her lungs and whispered softly, “If Your Majesty is willing to keep it, I wouldn’t mind…”

Xu Zhaosu closed her eyes and held her tightly. “But I am not willing.”

She did not want to see her held hostage by others again, unable to live as she pleased.

She could not tolerate anyone harming her in the slightest—not even herself.

—

Various Side Stories

1. Writing Characters

After Shi Qingyi recovered, Xu Zhaosu still refused to let her go out, insisting on pampering her carefully. When bored, Shi Qingyi practiced calligraphy or read books. Xu Zhaosu had nearly emptied the national treasury’s rare editions overnight and moved them to Mingze Hall, ensuring she would not be bored.

One day, as Shi Qingyi practiced writing, Xu Zhaosu hugged her waist from behind and nibbled at her ear.

She asked what Shi Qingyi had wanted to write in her palm at the end of her illness. She had written “never,” but Xu Zhaosu had stopped her from continuing, insisting she wait until she was better—afraid that if she said everything, she would not have the will to hold on.

Shi Qingyi picked up her brush, but before it could touch the paper, the Female Sovereign snatched away the rice paper. She simply stood by the desk alone, her eyes clear and filled with amusement.

Shi Qingyi: “…”

Later, Shi Qingyi wrote the remaining characters stroke by stroke on her heart before finally stopping.

It was nothing much, just eight characters.

—Meeting Your Majesty is the greatest fortune of this life.

2. Golden House for a Beloved

Xu Zhaosu harbored an immense obsession with Yuming Hall and was determined to live out the phrase “a golden house to hide a beauty.” She summoned Li Yue’s finest craftsmen to draft designs. Dissatisfied with the initial plans, she reviewed them with Shi Qingyi to see what needed adding.

It truly deserved the description “magnificent and exquisitely beautiful.”

Somehow, the designs leaked out. The court officials wailed like ghosts and wolves, calling Shi Qingyi a fox spirit who brought calamity to the nation and deserved to be executed by a thousand cuts. The uproar was fierce, with two veteran ministers threatening to crash into pillars to prove their point with death.

They called her a fox spirit—that was one thing—but they also implied she was ugly, plain as dirt. The moment the words left their mouths, the Female Emperor’s face darkened instantly. The group, oblivious, dragged the Eldest Princess into a united front to remonstrate with Her Majesty.

The Eldest Princess’s mouth twitched. That very night, she took sick leave, claiming illness and skipping court.

The Female Sovereign was no longer the ruler who humbly courted the wise. She ignored their pedantic rituals and outdated rules, showing no fear or compromise amid the chaos. Instead, her reputation for stubborn single-mindedness spread.

When the matter could no longer be contained, the Eldest Princess had to step in—not to persuade Her Majesty, but to enter the palace and meet Shi Qingyi, the current apple of Her Majesty’s eye.

Xu Zhaosu had been terrified by the time the Eldest Princess had forced Shi Qingyi to kneel in the snow for three hours. Hearing of her visit, she abandoned a crowd of people and rushed back, only to see the usually stern Eldest Princess sitting across from Shi Qingyi, drinking tea without exchanging a word.

Xu Zhaosu hugged Shi Qingyi in lingering fear. Shi Qingyi merely patted her hand, calming her once more.

No one could sway Xu Zhaosu. She was resolute in following her heart. Then one rainy day, Shi Qingyi held an umbrella to meet her. The two huddled under the same umbrella, rain pattering outside. By the time they returned to Xuande Hall from handling affairs, their clothes were soaked through.

After bathing, Xu Zhaosu personally combed her damp long hair, refusing anyone else’s help. Shi Qingyi hugged her waist and whispered softly, “Your Majesty, it’s so far…”

Xuande Hall was far from Mingze Hall; even Yuming Hall, separated by just a wall, felt far. Anywhere not by her side felt too far.

Xu Zhaosu’s heart instantly melted into a puddle, overflowing with sweetness that filled every crevice, with nowhere to vent. She could only kiss her frantically. Shi Qingyi held her, tilting her neck to let her bite wildly.

The matter ended there, all because of Shi Qingyi’s single sentence. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. No golden house was built; what was hidden was no beauty, but her beloved.

Only the System hesitated slightly: “Host, have you gone soft?”

Shi Qingyi sipped her tea and responded nonchalantly, “What makes you say that?”

The System began counting on its fingers: “Xu Zhaosu’s character is a paranoid villain—brutal and tyrannical, destined to be replaced by the heroine and hero. You’re protecting her like this; how will she lose the people’s support and face a united rebellion?”

“You think those two protagonists can take her down?” Shi Qingyi lifted her gaze and blew on her tea.

The System choked. It recalled the protagonists who had barely escaped death recently, still scraping by somewhere in the world.

Unwilling to admit it, but… doubtful.

“If the protagonists could beat her, the Main God wouldn’t have thrown me back here. Since they can’t win, for the sake of this world’s common people, shouldn’t I persuade her toward goodness?” Shi Qingyi guided patiently.

The System: “…Seems logically sound?”

But something felt off?

3. Jealous of Myself

Shi Qingyi still habitually wore her mask. Xu Zhaosu, not wanting to upset her, never asked too much. Only much later did she dare inquire why she wore it, even during intimate moments.

Shi Qingyi turned away, saying she feared scaring her in the middle of the night. Xu Zhaosu immediately sat up straight. “I’m not afraid.” Then she carefully removed the mask and kissed the scars on her face tenderly.

“Appearance is secondary, unimportant. I only want you.” The Female Sovereign held her face, speaking with deep affection, only to receive a cold glance from the State Preceptor.

“Oh? Then when I wasn’t around, why did Your Majesty stock the rear palace with so many beauties?”

Xu Zhaosu: “…”

Her heart clogged; she said nothing.

After being teased, she finally leaned in softly: “Back then, I missed you so much…”

She had nearly gone mad with longing, but you never came to see me. I thought you’d never appear in this world again in this lifetime, so I collected everyone who resembled you. I never touched them—just looked from afar.

—A craving of the heart, hard to quit.

Shi Qingyi sighed quietly: “I know.”

Which made her heart ache even more.

During the time Shi Qingyi had just returned to the Imperial Palace disguised as a medical girl, she had taken Xu Zhaosu’s pulse. The gloomy, frail girl on the bed said she felt terribly unwell. Shi Qingyi couldn’t diagnose it and anxiously asked where it hurt.

The Female Sovereign on the bed placed her hand over her heart, closed her eyes, and rasped, “It hurts here.”

Though she knew it might truly be heartache—a knot, an old wound—placing it there still led to misunderstandings!

Shi Qingyi’s face burned like fire; she hurriedly tried to pull her hand back.

The woman seemed about to cry, her eyes reddening, refusing to let go, yet a chill gathered in her gaze: “It hurts…”

The thin-skinned one finally snapped: “How can Your Majesty be like this? Didn’t you say—didn’t you say there was a… State Preceptor? She died, and your heart turned to ashes, yet so quickly—?”