Chapter 9: The State Preceptor Scheming to Overthrow the Court

Xu Zhaosu’s hands were very beautiful, with skin like ice and jade, ten slender fingers, and a thin callus on the index finger from years of practicing calligraphy. However, after being locked in the dungeon for too long, the chill had caused them to deform somewhat.

Some nails had embedded into the flesh and had to be pried out. Shi Qingyi fetched a small knife and placed that overly thin pair of hands on her knee.

“It might hurt a little, Your Majesty. Just bear with it for a moment.”

A soft scoff came from the head of the hall, laced with inexplicable mockery.

She had endured all the torments of the human world over the past year—what was this bit of pain? It was as if she truly cared that much.

Shi Qingyi ignored the deliberate scoff and moved very gently, carefully carving out the edges embedded in the flesh with the knife and trimming the jagged nails neat and tidy.

Finally, a small piece on the index finger had pierced particularly deep. When she pried it out, blood flowed along with it. Without thinking, Shi Qingyi took that transparently pale finger into her mouth.

Xu Zhaosu lounged lazily in the sunlight, wanting to see what tricks this woman had left, but she froze in shock when her finger was suddenly sucked in, her entire arm stiffening as she dared not move.

The sunlight was fine, the mouth warm, soft, and moist. The tip of the tongue gently swept over the wound, and Xu Zhaosu felt her heart inexplicably tug, a torn, aching pain amid the daze.

Just as she sensed the impropriety and prepared to pull it out, the Female Sovereign’s finger suddenly stopped. Her voice was icy: “Did I tell you to spit it out?”

Shi Qingyi: “…”

It was just a habitual action. She had no idea what Xu Zhaosu was imagining this time.

Xu Zhaosu’s heart was a mess of irritation. Back then, when she had admired her, she wished she could hand over the entire world to her on a platter, but she had scorned it. Now that she was in such a state, she came over to carefully fawn and grovel, humiliating her without any dignity—

She was about to say something when hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside. A palace maid stopped at the corridor, and upon seeing the scene, she abruptly fell silent, dropping to her knees with a thud and bowing her head deeply.

Heat crept up her cheeks, but she dared not look up.

A spring afternoon, with the State Preceptor and Her Majesty flirting—what right did they have to see such a thing?!

This definitely wasn’t one of her people, so it must be someone looking for Shi Qingyi. Coming to Yuming Hall in such a hurry—had something happened? Could it be her aunt—

Xu Zhaosu’s thoughts raced, her expression darkening. After a long moment, she only heard the helpless voice beside her: “The matron came looking for this servant. Can this servant spit it out now?”

Though the voice was lowered, it was still particularly clear in the empty courtyard.

The bowing palace maid’s face flushed even redder, wishing she could bury her head in the dirt and pretend she had seen nothing.

“Scram—”

The Female Sovereign’s angry voice instantly echoed through the entire Yuming Hall. Only after the footsteps truly faded did her face darken further. She reached out and smashed the porcelain warmer at her side.

The shattered porcelain scattered under the sunlight like hearts that could never be gathered back. Xu Zhaosu’s emotions surged, and for some reason, her five fingers gripped the blanket on her knees tightly.

The Medicine Apprentice fetched a broom and carefully swept up the fragments, desperately minimizing his presence. It was a long time before he heard the Female Sovereign speak: “Go investigate what happened.”

Receiving the order, the Medicine Apprentice quickly cleaned up and fled. The Female Sovereign’s mood was as gloomy as a sky about to rain; just staying here felt terrifying. He had no idea how the State Preceptor, who accompanied Her Majesty at all times, endured it.

Bah, that treacherous minister Shi Qingyi must be biding her time for some scheme!

Xu Zhaosu’s mood was extremely poor that day. When the medicine was delivered, she smashed three bowls in a row and, despite all the persuasion, still didn’t drink a single sip. It dragged on until the midnight hour when the Medicine Apprentice hurriedly returned and entered the hall, steeling himself.

Mindful of the Female Sovereign’s gaze, the hall’s lights were dim, casting only a vague silhouette—gaunt and solitary.

The person who heard the sound turned from the shadows, eyes deep and dark. Perhaps because the night light wasn’t so piercing, the Female Sovereign wasn’t covering her eyes with a thin gauze. That faint glance carried a chill.

The Medicine Apprentice quickly lowered his head, telling himself it was an illusion—he had just seemed to see disappointment in Her Majesty’s eyes?

“Your Majesty, it’s been investigated. Master Jing E has come down the mountain.”

The person on the couch suddenly stiffened. The Medicine Apprentice carefully continued: “Shi Qingyi is still in Mingze Hall accompanying Master Jing E. Perhaps…”

“Perhaps she won’t come today.”

As his words fell, there came the crisp sound of the Female Sovereign clutching the porcelain warmer in her hands hitting the ground.

—

In the fourth month, it had only cleared up for two days before the rain started falling again. A white horse galloped in from outside the palace, carrying the chill of spring straight to the front of Mingze Hall.

The palace maids and eunuchs had only vaguely heard that this female Daoist far away in Zhongnan Mountain was the State Preceptor’s master but had never truly seen her. At that moment, they heard a “whoa,” and the horse’s hooves kicked up countless clods of mud and dust.

Everyone dodged or scattered. Finally, a palace maid braced herself to approach and try to drape a cloak over the woman soaked through, but she was stopped by a cold hand.

“Jing… Jing E Daoist—”

The Daoist nun wasn’t frightening in appearance; on the contrary, she could be called beautiful. Even without makeup, her brows and eyes showed a clear, elegant refinement, though her expression was indifferent, carrying a silent chill.

“No need.” She took the cloak herself and draped it on, her movements clean and decisive. “Take Treading Snow and feed it well. Have the State Preceptor come see me at once.”

Her thunderous efficiency was evident.

A quarter of an hour later, the State Preceptor arrived belatedly.

Shi Qingyi listened boredly to her master in the hall. Her master was only in her early thirties, dressed in a light cyan Daoist robe with a few scattered bamboo leaves embroidered on the wide sleeves. Her brows and eyes were refined yet carried an indescribable sharpness.

She had grown up on Zhongnan Mountain since childhood, raised single-handedly by this woman, who taught her propriety, righteousness, poetry, and song. Later, she had been spotted by Xu Zhaosu and brought down the mountain, and they hadn’t seen each other again until she was burned alive.

—At least, that was the case in the previous mission. This time, things with Xu Zhaosu had changed unexpectedly, and now there were other complications.

The tea in her hand wafted fragrance. The woman in plain clothes had trembling eyes: “I didn’t expect you still remembered that this master likes Sheep Rock Hook Green.”

The tea leaves were hooked and curved, tightly rolled with a fresh tender green hue, brewing to a clear, bright liquor—truly a rare fine tea.

“I always keep Master’s preferences in mind.” Shi Qingyi took a sip as well. It was slightly bitter. She thought for a moment and quietly pushed the tea farther away. Sure enough, she still preferred sweets.

“Qingyi, I originally didn’t want to interfere in your affairs…” The tea lid clinked shut.

Originally didn’t want to—that meant she was going to now.

Shi Qingyi sighed inwardly and unconsciously straightened her posture.

“Several years ago, when Her Majesty wanted to bring you down the mountain, this master couldn’t protect you. Later, through all sorts of twists and turns, I never interfered in what you thought. I only assumed you were enduring humiliation for a greater purpose. But now, you’ve released her—”

“What do you intend to do?”

Spring thunder boomed, shattering the calm surface like a still pond, splintering the mirror-like peace just like that shattered teacup.

—

Xu Zhaosu had a nightmare.

She dreamed of that year at eighteen when the Imperial Astronomical Observatory divined that she would face great calamity. The court ministers suggested she go far to Zhongnan Mountain to pray for blessings. She hadn’t believed in such things, but that winter she had nearly died from a severe illness, and only after worried old ministers persuaded her did she reluctantly go.

Zhongnan Mountain was blanketed in endless wind and snow, white peaks covering the ranges, far from worldly dust and the revelry of music and dance. She had planned to put on a show and return, but unexpectedly encountered an assassination in the mountains.

The attackers came fiercely. Her hidden guards’ strength was greatly diminished in the vast snowy mountains. As they fled, just when it seemed they couldn’t escape, a woman in white saved her.

The sharp white robes were like eternal, unmelting snow. She reached out to steady the Female Sovereign’s arm but refused to get any closer, her voice merely indifferent: “Careful.”

The Female Sovereign, in her high position, looked up upon hearing the voice. The woman’s three thousand strands of dark hair were simply pinned with a wooden hairpin, her plain white robes untouched by dust. Without makeup, she outshone all the beauties Xu Zhaosu had seen over the years.

Love at first sight—nothing more.

Later, Xu Zhaosu thought that it had probably been a lifelong mistake from that one glance. Even after the white-clad woman released her hand, the Female Sovereign hadn’t snapped out of it.

Disciples of Zhongnan Mountain never descended; lifelong ascetic cultivation in the mountains was their destiny. The Female Sovereign was momentarily bewitched and recklessly wanted to draw this immortal-like person into the mortal world to share the prosperity and vast landscapes with her.

Shi Qingyi was Jing E Master’s one and only disciple. At first, she absolutely refused. For this, she knelt unyieldingly before the Female Sovereign’s gates, but the Female Sovereign was determined not to let go.

Snow fell heavily. An hour later, the white-clad youth arrived hugging a sword, her expression calm yet cold. She nodded slightly and said only: “I’ll go with you.”

In that instant, the snow-filled courtyard seemed to melt into spring warmth and bloom. The Female Sovereign personally pushed open the doors to welcome her, but she only saw Shi Qingyi carefully helping up the long-kneeling Jing E Master, then kneeling straight on the ground for three solemn kowtows, never once turning back to look at her.

She stood quietly in the snow for a moment, then went over and seized Shi Qingyi’s hand. At that time, she was the ruler who held the heavens in her grasp—whatever she wanted, she got. Even a proud female Daoist from Zhongnan Mountain would be made to secularize for her.

She had thought that once she seized her, she would never let go—not for a lifetime.

Later, Xu Zhaosu always thought that it had been wrong from the start. Forcing something never came willingly and was doomed to backlash.

Thus, the palace coup came fiercely without respite. She sat in Yuming Hall listening to the clash of arms outside, the great fire burning from one end of the Imperial Palace to the other. The person she cherished in her heart burst into Yuming Hall sword in hand.

What followed was endless darkness in a cage, her leg bones dragged into disability in the icy snow, her eyes gradually losing sight, frostbite wounds breaking open and healing, healing and reopening, festering with pus and rot like a lump of mud struggling to survive in some unknown place.

“No—”

She abruptly opened her eyes, a dull pain in her chest making it hard to breathe. Her back was soaked in cold sweat, drenching her clothes. A hand stroked her back, the voice very soft. It took her a long time to distinguish it clearly amid the chaos.

A voice she wouldn’t forget even as a ghost—

The current State Preceptor, Shi Qingyi.

The voice was gentle: “Your Majesty, it was all a dream… not real… don’t be afraid…”

Before she finished speaking, a cold hand suddenly climbed up like a venomous snake, precisely seizing her throat. In the darkness, she couldn’t see, only the patter of rain outside and bursts of spring thunder.

“What do you want? To kill me?”

The voice was bitterly cold, laced with poison that could seal throats at a touch. Moments later, it turned frenzied. Even in the dark, Shi Qingyi could see the mad, baleful glint in her eyes.

“—Or do you want to go with her?!”