Qingfeng and Baiyu were tidying up the aftermath when Leng Mingye hurried back to the capital with the child in his arms.
Inside the palace, in a secluded courtyard with a plaque that read “Xuanming Hall,” stood a middle-aged man in his early forties, dressed in black brocade. The man was dignified, exuding an air of aloofness. Though his appearance carried an indescribable coldness—even a sense of detachment—he sat alone under the setting sun, basking in its glow. The twilight cast a gentle warmth upon him, yet his inherent chill kept others at a distance.
This man was none other than the renowned State Preceptor Ye Mei. True to his name, he radiated a solitary, nocturnal coldness, embodying the loneliness and desolation of the night. Yet, at this moment, a faint, enigmatic smile played on his lips as he held a wine cup, savoring the scenery of the courtyard under the fading light.
“Master…”
Just as he set down his cup to pour another, hurried footsteps approached from behind a tree adorned with falling petals. A woman clad in black, her expression as cold and emotionless as ice, stepped forward and bowed low before him.
“How are things on their end?” Ye Mei asked indifferently, his gaze still fixed on the surroundings. His tone was so detached that one might think he hadn’t even noticed her arrival.
“Liu Cuishan and his wife are dead, along with their daughter. That girl’s skills were formidable, and with Mu Zhenfeng and several other capable youths assisting her, our men dared not act recklessly,” the woman replied, her voice respectful but her expression flickering uneasily.
“So, they failed to obtain what I sought, is that it?” Ye Mei’s voice remained calm, his eyes unmoving. As he turned to look at her, the woman’s face instantly paled.
Though his expression showed no ripple of emotion, the woman reacted as if she’d seen a ghost, dropping to her knees in panic and begging for mercy. “Master, please spare us! We did our best. That girl’s poison skills were truly exceptional—we—”
Before she could finish, Ye Mei flicked his sleeve. The seemingly casual motion sent a gust of wind from his palm, knocking her back several steps. She staggered to her feet, clutching her chest in terror, blood trickling from the corner of her lips.
“Years of planning, and yet we still failed. What use are you fools to me?” Ye Mei sighed, his voice laced with disappointment. “I had hoped that cutting off Liu Cuishan’s antidote would force him to use his pawns to retrieve the item, but alas… You may leave.”
Though visibly injured, the woman bowed her head in fear, listening to his reprimand. With a dismissive wave, Ye Mei sent her away, his true thoughts inscrutable.
“Mu Wanqing… I’d like to see just how capable you really are,” he murmured to himself after she left, tilting his head back to drain his cup before rising and departing.
—
“Qing’er, you’re badly injured. You should rest properly. At least wait until you’ve recovered before thinking of entering the palace,” Prince Ning urged that evening upon returning and learning of the incident involving Wanqing. Relieved to see Qingfeng and the others unharmed, he was deeply concerned about his sister’s condition. Recalling her injuries from the Princess’s residence just days prior, he immediately brought Qingfeng—now free of poison but still weak—to his estate.
Seeing Wanqing plead with him to take her to the palace the moment he arrived, and knowing from Qingfeng’s report that things were slipping beyond his control, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry. Her pale face and frail state moved him to dissuade her gently.
“Did you… visit the Empress Dowager today? And did she learn of your recovered leg?” Wanqing asked, recalling his words from the previous day and noting his absence at the scene. Though frustrated, she reluctantly lay back and turned to him.
“Yes. Her Majesty was overjoyed to hear of my recovery. She also happens to suffer from headaches, so I took the opportunity to recommend you. She hopes you can treat her soon, but given your injuries…” Prince Ning sighed. “Qingfeng has told me everything. Any leads on the mastermind behind this?”
Wanqing, unusually compliant, nodded. “I wanted to pursue it, but events unfolded too quickly. Still, if I enter the palace and reveal the Dragon-Tiger Token, someone will surely show themselves—”
“No,” Prince Ning cut in firmly. “That method might expose the culprit, but it’s far too risky. Proceed with caution. Focus on recovering first. Once you’re better, I’ll take you to see Her Majesty. With her granting you an official position, future actions will be much smoother. Agreed?”
Seeing her eagerness, he softened his tone. Though he trusted her abilities, her current lowly status and unresolved engagement with the Sun family made restraint necessary.
“Fine. I’ll wait a few more days…” Wanqing relented, though her frustration with the shadowy schemer simmered.
As the siblings spoke, Honglian rushed in, her usual composure shattered.
“Miss, Young Master—something terrible has happened!”
“What is it?” they asked in unison, startled by her agitation.
“Mu Wanxia’s body has disappeared! Marquis Mu, though she wasn’t his blood daughter, still felt some familial bond and went to see her remains. But a black-clad figure stole her corpse! As for Lady Liu and that man… their bodies were reduced to bare skeletons!” Honglian reported, hesitant to disturb Wanqing but compelled to share the news.
“Such a thing… Brother Ning, help me up. Take me to the scene,” Wanqing demanded, her chest aching but her resolve unshaken.
“Qing’er…” Prince Ning hesitated, torn between the mystery’s urgency and her fragile state.
Just then, another voice broke in—Lian’er, Mu Zhenfeng’s maidservant, her face streaked with tears.
“Second Miss, Your Highness! Please, save the Marquis! He merely touched the skeletons to investigate, and now… he’s been poisoned!”
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