“Hmm, that makes sense. There’s no time to waste. Let’s go to the palace now and explain everything to our young master,” Honglian said with a frown, turning to head toward the palace with the other woman.
“Wait, miss. Who is your young master?”
As the two women turned to leave, the man in the bamboo hat suddenly called out to them.
“You…” Honglian hesitated, recalling how her mistress had saved this man, yet he had only shown a brief flicker of emotion before regaining his composure. His rare inquiry about their young master made her pause and glance uncertainly at Zhao Zhong.
“Don’t be wary, ladies. My master only asks out of concern for Miss Mu’s safety…”
Zhao Zhong, sensing the tension, forced a smile and tried to mediate.
“Oh, our young master is His Highness Prince Ning. If you want to help, come with us. Otherwise, it’s best you leave now.”
Though Honglian didn’t fully understand the conversations between her mistress and the prince, she had been by Wanqing’s side long enough to grasp some of the situation. The emperor was shrouded in too many suspicions—not only was he deeply connected to Consort Hui’s death, but his own behavior was raising alarms.
Though surprised by their offer of help, Honglian prioritized her mistress’s safety. “Let’s go,” she said to Wanjun, leading the way into the palace.
“Who said we wouldn’t help? Let’s all go and see,” the man in the bamboo hat replied calmly, motioning for Zhao Zhong and the others to follow.
—
“What? You’re saying Prince Ning left the palace right after my mistress? But Eunuch Xu, do you know where he went?”
Upon reaching the palace and meeting the emperor’s personal eunuch, Xu, Honglian was stunned by the news. She couldn’t understand why they hadn’t encountered the prince on their way back.
“I don’t know, miss. If you’re looking for Prince Ning, you’ll have to search elsewhere. I must attend to His Majesty now.”
Eunuch Xu spoke politely but firmly before leaving with his attendants.
“We left when His Highness was still drinking with the emperor. How could he have left so suddenly? And why didn’t the eunuch notice anything? Wanjun, do you think something’s wrong? My heart is uneasy—it feels like something terrible is about to happen…”
Rebuffed, Honglian grew increasingly anxious. Less than a quarter-hour had passed since their departure, yet everything had changed. She turned to Wanjun, her face full of worry.
“It seems we’ll have to sneak in and find out for ourselves. Zhao Zhong, come here…”
The man in the bamboo hat, though unclear about the details, remained composed. After questioning Wanjun about the drinking location, they stealthily avoided the patrolling guards and made their way through the palace.
—
“Wanjun, don’t you think it’s strange? That man in the hat seems to know the palace like the back of his hand—as if it were his own home. He even anticipates the guards’ movements. Could he be from the imperial family?”
As they followed the three men, Honglian whispered to Wanjun, noting how effortlessly they evaded detection.
“I don’t know. But as long as we can find our young master and save our mistress, that’s all that matters.”
Though equally puzzled by the man’s familiarity with the palace—far beyond even Prince Ning’s knowledge—Wanjun remained focused on their mission.
—
“Here.”
Soon, they reached the pavilion where the prince and the emperor had been drinking. The man in the hat signaled for them to crouch under the eaves.
“Your Highness…” Peering out, Honglian gasped as she saw Prince Ning being escorted out by two guards, while Qingfeng and his brother were dragged behind them—all unconscious, their pressure points sealed.
Shocked, Honglian nearly rushed forward, but the man in the hat stopped her.
“Stay calm. Let’s follow and see what they plan to do.”
Reluctantly, the women nodded, and they trailed the guards from the rooftops.
—
“Why are they taking His Highness here?”
To their surprise, the guards led the prince and Qingfeng to the Cold Palace.
“Let’s observe first,” the man in the hat murmured, watching intently.
The group was taken to a small courtyard—a place where the dying in the Cold Palace were often left.
“Are they going to kill them?” the man muttered under his breath.
The guards dumped Prince Ning and Qingfeng inside before locking the gate and leaving.
“Wait—someone’s coming.”
Just as Honglian and Wanjun prepared to descend, the man in the hat halted them.
A black-clad figure appeared, his face hidden beneath a hood.
“Bring them.”
Behind him came Sun Fengyu and another man, dragging Wanqing—her acupoints sealed, unable to speak.
“Miss…”
Horrified, the women barely restrained themselves under the watchful eyes of the man in the hat and Zhao Zhong.
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