Cui Xingyao’s seventeen-year-old life had been irrevocably changed on that day.
She still remembered the scene as she sat in the palanquin, entering those triple-layered palace walls for the first time.
She had been wearing the most magnificent clothes she had ever owned since birth. Her hair was swept high into a cloud-like coiffure, adorned with ornaments that represented the accumulated wealth of several generations of her maternal clan.
Layers of silk and satin wrapped around her, perfectly fitted without a hair's breadth of error. Yet, just before she crossed that threshold, the auntie who had dressed her pulled the collar at the back of her neck down by an inch. She said Xingyao’s neck was beautiful, and that in years past, His Majesty had spared an extra glance for a candidate with a graceful neck.
Her body had remained still, but her heart was filled with loathing.
Her father, Prince Kang, was dead, and the Yu clan had long since fallen into ruin and decay. The "Bright Pearl" once raised in the Prince’s traveling palace—whose silken socks used to reach her calves—was now to be selected and toyed with like a common courtesan.
By the banks of Yueqi Lake, he had sat behind nine layers of gauze curtains, nothing more than a slender shadow.
His voice was somewhat low and raspy, his tone impossible to read.
He had kept her, and she likely knew the reason why. She was the daughter of Prince Kang, a pawn to appease the vassal states, the final piece carrying her family's hopes.
Their first meeting had been a fleeting glimpse; she did not see him again until half a year later. He finally stepped out from behind those layers of gauze, walking toward her step by step.
He was much younger than she had imagined. Not only young, but strikingly handsome. He never spoke with harshness or severity; the expressions and gaze between his brows were as tranquil as if he were not an emperor dwelling in high places.
He was elegant and refined, always as gentle as a spring breeze when he was with her. Yet his word was law, and he had been decisive and ruthless when suppressing the wars in Bigui Jiang from the imperial court. He never exploited her identity for political gain. Aside from occasionally inviting her to Yueqi Lake to watch the stars and moon through that gauze screen, they rarely met.
But amidst the shimmering reflections of Yueqi Lake, she had wavered.
This life she had once loathed and despised gradually became her crutch, the very meaning of her continued existence in this world.
He never called her by name, addressing her only by her formal title.
But what did that matter? After all, she was currently the only woman who could sit by his side with full legitimacy.
She had never seen another woman near him.
Perhaps she was the person closest to him.
Her fate and his were the same, so she understood his hardships—the hardship of being trapped upon a throne, within palace walls. She would be the only one who truly understood him.
Perhaps she was destined to come to his side; they were destined to accompany one another, growing old together within this deep palace.
In the depths of the night, she often woke from those sweet dreams of growing old together, looking at the bleak moonlight on the floor as she gradually remembered the cold reality that belonged to her.
Her maternal clan had exhausted their strength to send her here, and the orders they gave her were so hollow and devoid of leeway: Kill the Emperor, retrieve the Secret Seal.
She had often thought the difficulty of this task lay in the act of murder or the theft of the treasure; she had never imagined it would ultimately be difficult because she had uncontrollably lost her heart to him.
She could not bear to kill him, but if he did not die, where would the Yu family go?
But was she not innocent as well? Had those who sent her into these palace walls in the name of the family ever considered where she was supposed to go?
The day of destiny's choice finally arrived. On the night she went to find him, she had prepared a bowl of soup and a sachet.
In the soup was a gut-wrenching poison; in the sachet was a soul-confusing powder.
Her family had placed her fate in her hands, and she placed her fate in the hands of Heaven.
If he chose the soup, then she would submit to her destiny and bring everything to a close.
But what if he did not touch the soup?
The longing she had harbored for so long stirred in the depths of her heart, ready to break through the soil. Perhaps she could rewrite it all and have an ending of her own.
Those things that entered her dreams every night, as distant as the stars, might one day truly belong to her.
She had anticipated two endings, repeatedly sketching the most cruel images in her mind, but she had never imagined the one before her now.
He had known everything all along, and he told her: her affection was worthless.
"The thing you seek is not here." His expression remained elegant and indifferent, just as it always was when he spoke to her. "I have entrusted it to the person I trust most."
*Who is the person you trust most? Shan Jiangfei? Or...*
Her thoughts were a chaotic mess. The man before her was both familiar and strange; she could not see through his emotions.
"I do not know what Your Majesty refers to; I am deeply terrified..."
"Lady Cui, you and I are both sober people. Why bother pretending the dream hasn't ended at this stage?" As he spoke, he opened the sachet in his hand. The burnt incense ash fell in a flurry, sending up a thin trail of smoke. "Or has this bewitching incense muddled your head so much that you've forgotten your true self?"
The situation was shattered, impossible to restore.
Cui Xingyao’s heart pounded wildly. She was not good at handling such situations; she was supposed to be composed, beautiful, measured, and elegant. She should not be in such a wretched, dead-end state.
"Throughout this journey, I have kept you by my side, which can be considered giving you many opportunities. You certainly kept your composure, waiting until now to strike."
Where exactly had it gone wrong? Cui Xingyao was utterly perplexed.
"Since when did Your Majesty begin to suspect me?"
"From the moment you entered Que City."
So, from the very beginning, he had never trusted her.
"Is it because of my maternal uncle..."
"Yu Youwei?" The look he gave her held a hint of surprise, as if he found her question strange. "He is he, and you are you. However, if you were not Yu Youwei’s niece, I truly would not have seen you."
This answer was less hurtful than it was humiliating.
The heart-wrenching agony and bitter sorrow she thought she felt were all merely illusions; all that remained was a blunt knife scraping back and forth against her heart.
She was indignant, she was unwilling, she could not believe that all of this was just her delusion.
Perhaps—perhaps he was saying this on purpose to make her give up hope.
She stubbornly raised her head, looking directly into the Emperor's eyes.
"Since Your Majesty suspected me from the start, why did you invite me to Yueqi Lake to watch the stars night after night?"
However, the other's eyes were perfectly clear—perhaps so clear that nothing could be probed, like a mirror that only reflected her own shadow.
"Watching the stars night after night? Did you see clearly? Was the one watching the stars with you truly me?"
Cui Xingyao froze, the light in her eyes gradually fading. She recalled those spring nights over the past few months when the breeze had blown gently. She had been intoxicated by that tenderness and kindness, never once considering a single question.
Why did the Emperor always separate himself from her with a gauze screen every time he saw her?
"But... your voice..."
"Even seeing is not necessarily believing, let alone hearing."
Cui Xingyao’s body went rigid; she remained in her kneeling position on the floor.
He had never felt anything for her, had never even lingered in her world. Yet she, in those long nightly dreams, had already lived out a lifetime with him.
She suddenly remembered before dawn yesterday, when she had again been unable to sleep and had gone to the window. She had unintentionally heard the faint sound of a woman's voice coming from his courtyard.
At the time, she thought it was the voice of a palace servant from the villa, but remembering it now, she sensed the anomaly. When had he ever had a female official serving near him?
Like a dreamer suddenly startled awake, Cui Xingyao murmured her question.
"Is it because of the person in Your Majesty’s courtyard last night?"
The moment she spoke those words, the expression on the young Emperor's face changed.
It was as if a long-worn mask had shattered in an instant—perhaps it was the slight arch of his brow, or perhaps a faint tremor within his pupils. Only then did she realize that the face she had seen all along was nothing more than a monotonous stone statue assumed by a Buddha when facing sentient beings.
"You noticed her?" He smiled, a coldness hidden deep within his gaze that could not be concealed. "I used a pair of boots as an excuse to trick her into coming, only keeping her for one night, yet it was enough for an irrelevant person to notice a clue."
*Boots?*
The stubborn figure standing in the mud, covered in dust by the carriage, flashed before her eyes. A layer of incomprehension and madness surfaced in Cui Xingyao’s heart.
*How could it be her? How could it possibly be her?!*
"How can she be compared to me?! She is of military stock, crude of mind, and utterly shallow in her ways..."
"I believe that love is inherently shallow." The cold light in the Emperor's eyes gradually dispersed, leaving only a smile devoid of warmth. "She can die for me. Can you?"
As if grasping at a final straw, she raised her snow-white neck and accused him without concealment.
"Xingyao once blocked an arrow for Your Majesty on the Yue River. Does Your Majesty not remember?"
"Oh, is that so?" He tilted his head slightly, seemingly truly reminiscing about that day. "How do I remember that the arrow was originally aimed at you?"
Even after being flayed and lashed repeatedly earlier, Cui Xingyao had not expected this matter to be spoken so easily from his mouth.
Even she herself had taken a long time to accept this fact.
"The daughter of the Bai family was precocious from youth, skilled at manipulating hearts and staying one step ahead. She knew I was protected by top-tier experts; even if that Yan Zi struck, she wouldn't have a hundred percent certainty. Why would she attempt a solitary assassination at such a grand occasion as the sacrificial ceremony?"
Her tears stopped on her face, gradually turning from warm to icy cold.
She wanted to cover her ears, to stop listening to that voice that sounded like the whispers of an evil spirit, but the voice refused to stop.
"On the final day of the ceremony, you used the excuse of observing the rites on your father's behalf to beg me to bring you along and sit by my side. You were waiting for that very moment."
He picked up the bowl of soup that had already gone cold, lifted the lid, and stirred it with a porcelain spoon. The crisp clinking of jade against porcelain echoed in the tent along with the sound of dripping liquid.
"That arrow of hers was meant to send you to my side."
The man turned his wrist, and the honey-colored liquid in the bowl poured down, soaking the brocade carpet on the floor. However, in the next moment, a plume of blue smoke rose from the carpet's surface. Accompanied by a pungent odor, the silk fibers were scorched into a patch of pitch-black char.
"Unfortunately, there was already someone else by my side."
The black hole on the silk carpet grew larger and larger until the blackened, foul-smelling edges stopped spreading. Cui Xingyao finally laughed.
Fate was called fate because it was so difficult to shake, so impossible to change.
Her life had, in fact, never been changed.
"I did not wish for this either. Prince Kang’s line is severed, and the Yu family’s foundation is destroyed. This... this was the last chance. If it succeeded, my maternal clan would have a chance to rise again. If it failed..."
Cui Xingyao suddenly pulled out the silver hairpin she had been clutching and stabbed it fiercely toward her own neck.
She had prepared it for herself long ago. She wanted to keep one last shred of dignity for herself.
*Clack.*
Her hand froze. Her gaze slowly lowered, only to see the broken head of the hairpin resting bluntly against her neck. Beside it were two severed fingernails.
She had not even seen what had sliced her hairpin in two, let alone who had made the move. The delayed, sharp pain swept over her, causing the dignity she had maintained for so long to shatter in an instant.
A cry of agony escaped her as the young woman's face contorted with pain.
The green-clad guard glanced at her and turned to report.
"The matter was urgent, and my strike was slightly off. I ask Your Majesty’s forgiveness."
The man did not reply, only walking to stand before the woman.
"There are some matters that have not yet been questioned clearly; you cannot die yet. Of course, after everything is over, if you still wish to die, I will no longer stop you."
Outside the tent, the head eunuch, hearing the commotion, lifted the curtain and entered. Seeing the situation before him, he lowered his eyes and clapped his hands. Several eunuchs in deep red palace robes entered, clearing away the mess on the floor before pulling Cui Xingyao up and carrying her away.
Shan Jiangfei finally picked up the severed tip of the hairpin from the floor, carefully wrapping the poisoned part in a handkerchief to put away. Finally, he looked at the swordsman standing to the side.
"Lieutenant Ding, it has been a long time."
Ding Weixiang glanced at the mild-mannered eunuch and merely gave a cold snort.
Shan Jiangfei paid no mind to the other's arrogance and turned toward the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, there is about an hour until dawn. Shall we..."
His words were cut short by a sound from outside the tent.
It was a crisp, metallic ringing—not as heavy as a drum, yet carrying further.
The beginning and end of the Spring Hunt were signaled by the sounds of the *zhu* and *yu*.
The *zhu* was struck at the start, and the *yu* was tapped at the close.
The timing of the hunt's opening and closing was bounded by sunrise and sunset.
To sound the *yu* before the sun had risen was a sign of an anomaly.
"Report!"
A shadow stood outside the tent, appearing there as if in an instant.
"A report from the Black Feather Ren Battalion: Incursions at the Gen position, Fourth Palace, and the Xun position, Eighth Palace. Thousand-man strength."
"Report!" Another shadow followed immediately, speaking in a low, urgent tone. "A report from the Black Feather Xin Battalion: Incursions at the Dui position, Seventh Palace; Kan position, First Palace; Kan position, Third Palace; and Kun position, Ninth Palace. Ten-thousand-man strength."
"Report!"
"There is no need to report further." Inside the tent, the Emperor looked up. His dark pupils were a void of deathly stillness, devoid of any ripples. "Pass the order to all Black Feather battalions: proceed as planned, everything remains as before."
"Understood."
Three voices answered in unison outside the tent. Before the sound had even faded, the area outside was empty.
The long-sword-bearing guard instinctively looked toward the Emperor, who was placing the soup bowl on the high-legged side table, his hand casually brushing over the stacks of memorials and the opened copper box.
"Weixiang, Jiangfei."
The two answered respectfully in unison.
"Present."
"Do you two believe tonight is an auspicious day?"
Ding Weixiang said without hesitation, "If Your Majesty says it is an auspicious day, then it is an auspicious day."
Su Wei’s voice was somewhat raspy.
"An auspicious day, a day of death. There is but a single word's difference."
Ding Weixiang faltered. Before he could think of how to respond, Shan Jiangfei softly picked up the thread.
"Your Majesty has never lost. Since this has been planned for many years, everything will surely be settled today. After today, there will be no more lingering concerns. Your Majesty should be happy."
"No more lingering concerns? I hope so."
A rare trace of bewilderment appeared on the Emperor's face, but it was fleeting. He quickly regained his look of ancient, unruffled stillness.
"Shan Jiangfei of the Black Feather Jia Battalion, hear my command."
"Your servant is here."
In an instant, Shan Jiangfei shed his persona of a serving attendant. His movements were so agile he didn't look at all like a eunuch who spent his years walking the palace halls.
"I fear many variables will arise tonight. No matter what happens, you must stand by the throne. You must not let anyone take advantage of a gap."
"Understood."
"Ding Weixiang, Commander of the Black Feather Secret Guards, hear my command."
Ding Weixiang stepped forward, dropping to one knee with a solemn expression.
"Your servant is here."
"Set the array at the Beast Taming Platform. Order all battalions to hold their positions to the death."
"Understood."
"Is everything I asked you to prepare ready?"
"Everything is in place, awaiting Your Majesty’s command."
"Good."
The Emperor turned, his long sleeves sweeping as the gauze curtains opened wide to both sides, revealing the void of the eastern night.
"Bai Heliu, I have waited for you for a long time."
****** ****** ******
Xiao Nanhui had been galloping through the dense forest for nearly half an hour. The continuous noise in her ears had dulled her hearing; it was only after the sharp, thin friction sound had been ringing for a moment that she realized it wasn't a ringing in her ears.
At first, she thought it was the sound of another swarm of Night Bats approaching.
But she soon sensed something was wrong. There was an irregularity in the sound—sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, pausing and then starting again.
In the space of just a few breaths, the swarm of Night Bats that had been ahead of her suddenly scattered. The original black mass turned into a few stray black dots, quickly vanishing into the night, their tracks impossible to find.
Xiao Nanhui did not give up. Her legs stepped onto the saddle as she leaped from Jixiang’s back, grabbing a thick pine branch and using the momentum to climb. In a few movements, she reached the canopy.
The moment she poked her head out from the leaves, she felt a long-awaited breeze blowing from the open sky above, carrying a hint of moisture, clear and cold.
All around were dense, boundless treetops, and above the treetops was the vast, infinite night sky.
The bright moon that had guided her way tonight had become somewhat blurred, and the stars had dimmed accordingly. Thin water vapor came with the wind from the south; clouds and mist began to entwine between the stars and the moon. The rain of Yu'an was coming again.
Xiao Nanhui understood that her time was running out.
Once the cloud layer completely obscured the night sky, she would lose her direction in these boundless mountain ridges and dense forests.
And now, the only clue was that bit of sound she had captured earlier.
Taking a deep breath, Xiao Nanhui focused her gaze on the surroundings, concentrating with all the focus she possessed to observe the quiet, boundless canopy.
There had to be—there had to be some trace.
A shaking branch, a startled night bird, or perhaps the faintest, most fleeting glimmer of light or shadow.
Suddenly, a tiny flash of light crossed her peripheral vision.
She quickly turned her gaze toward the rear right, only managing to catch a dissipating shadow.
Something had leaped and fallen between the treetops.
A color like moonlight—thin and bright.
Xiao Nanhui’s eyes widened, almost unable to believe what she saw.
Then, instinct awakened her memory. She finally recalled where she had heard that sound before.
In the old Xiong family residence in the northern marshes, and in the bizarre caves of Bigui Jiang’s Color Hill, she had heard that sound.
It was a flying thread.
Xiao Nanhui’s gaze locked tightly onto the distant area that had returned to calm. Something was hidden within this seemingly peaceful forest.
****** ****** ******
Deep within the boundary of the mountains and forests, countless Night Bats shrieked past.
They had encountered a difficult hunter and seemed to have lost their way in panic, plunging headlong into the depths of the mountains.
Only one arrow remained in Lu Songping’s quiver. He paused for a moment, then decisively drew it, aiming at the strongest one among the restless black dots.
To capture the rebels, one must first capture their leader.
He had observed them all the way. Although that particular Night Bat might not necessarily carry information, it could still be the leader of the swarm.
*Whoosh.*
The arrow flew out, striking directly at the vital spot beneath the clever beast's jaw. With a screech, the Night Bat’s body faltered as if it were about to fall. Lu Songping urged his mount forward a few steps, only to see the falling figure suddenly return to life, rejoined with the swarm.
Then, as if receiving some kind of summons, the swarm swirled into a side of the mountain, vanishing completely in the blink of an eye, leaving not a single trace behind.
Lu Songping dismounted, slowly approaching the place where the bats had disappeared. He soon discovered that within the mountain lay a bottomless rift valley.
The noisy sounds of the bats came from the depths, gradually fading into a deathly silence.
Bats naturally preferred dark, narrow caves as hiding places; plus, his repeated pressure with arrows made their flight into the mountain seem logical.
But for some reason, he felt something was strange about the surroundings.
The mouth of the cave was too clean. There wasn't a single trace of bat guano, which was enough to prove that this was not a place where living creatures frequently moved.
He slowly drew the silver soft sword from his waist. The moonlight suddenly dimmed at this moment. Using the last bit of light reflecting off the blade, he looked into the depths of the abyss.
****** ****** ******
On the northwestern Douchen Ridge, upon the southern cliffs where vegetation was sparse and the rocks were steep, a winding, narrow stone trestle path spiraled upward in broken segments.
There were countless mountain paths in Douchen Ridge, but only one could accommodate horses and carriages.
It had been carved out years ago by the government for mining ore. However, the ore in the mountains had been exhausted, and the stone path had long been abandoned. Weeds covered the road surface, and rocks washed down by rain had collapsed it into several sections. No one dared to risk passing through it anymore.
And yet now, upon that narrow, dilapidated, and precarious mountain path, a carriage was actually parked.
No one knew exactly how this carriage had been driven onto a mountain road that resembled a sheer cliff, let alone how long it had been parked there.
If not for the two horses in front of the carriage, one would truly suspect it was a derelict vehicle abandoned here years ago.
The horses pulling the carriage had their eyes covered with black cloth to prevent them from being startled. The driver was clearly well-prepared and was not traveling such a road for the first time.
Bolao lay behind an autumn jujube tree, her gaze fixed on the tightly closed carriage. It was silent there; not a single breath could be heard.
*Drip, drop.*
Sparse raindrops fell, creating faint tapping sounds among the surrounding wild grass.
After an unknown amount of time, just as she finally decided to step forward and investigate.
*Creak.*
The carriage window was pulled open a crack. Half a purple sleeve emerged from the window, followed by a man's hand.
The hand was palm-up, catching a few raindrops before rubbing them between the fingertips.
"It really is raining."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 柷 | Zhu | An ancient Chinese percussion instrument used to signal the start of a piece of music. |
| 敔 | Yu | An ancient Chinese percussion instrument used to signal the end of a piece of music. |
| 飞线 | Flying thread | A specialized weapon or tool involving thin, strong wires, previously seen in the story. |
| 艮位、巽位、兑位、坎位、坤位 | Gen, Xun, Dui, Kan, Kun positions | Directions/coordinates based on the Eight Trigrams (Bagua) used in military formations. |
| 壬字营、辛字营、甲字营 | Ren Battalion, Xin Battalion, Jia Battalion | Designations for different units of the Black Feather guards based on the Heavenly Stems. |
| 伏兽台 | Beast Taming Platform | A specific location or structure within the hunting grounds. |
