Cao Jing also rose, his gaze toward her rather cool, his lips moving as if to speak, yet he ultimately said nothing. He simply stepped forward to open the door and walked out with her.
Upon entering the main hall of the Drum Audience Hall, they saw a purple-robed official standing with his hands behind his back, waiting for them.
The commoner who had filed the complaint had already been taken outside and was no longer visible.
Meng Tinghui’s expression darkened. Recalling the earlier clerk’s remark that the matter had been reported to the Court of Imperial Stud, she cupped her hands in salute to the official and said, "You must be Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Stud, Lord Wei Mingxian."
Wei Mingxian smiled, giving her a thorough once-over before replying, "Lord Meng." Glancing toward the door, he lowered his voice slightly and spoke bluntly: "I have heard about the matter concerning Wang Qi and have come specifically to ask a favor of you, Lord Meng. Could you return this petition?"
Meng Tinghui suddenly smiled at his words. "Easily done." She saluted again and said, "I have other matters to attend to and must take my leave now. Once the petition is returned, I will send someone to the Court of Imperial Stud to inform you, Lord Wei."
Wei Mingxian, taken aback by her prompt agreement, showed a flicker of surprise but maintained his smile. "Then I shall await your message at the Court of Imperial Stud."
Meng Tinghui nodded, lowered her eyelids to adjust her sleeves, turned, and swiftly exited the Drum Audience Hall. She instructed the clerk outside to escort the commoner out of the palace gates to find a place to rest, then hurried alone toward the Chancellery.
When she reached the Left Flank Gate, she frowned and glanced back, realizing Cao Jing had not come out with her. But the thought passed quickly, and she returned alone to the Remonstrance Hall.
First, she sought out the Diarist to inquire about the Crown Prince’s current whereabouts. Then, she sealed the petition, attached a memorial explaining the situation, and ordered it to be delivered directly to the Crown Prince’s desk in the Eastern Palace.
Not long after the messenger departed, Cao Jing returned.
Meng Tinghui sat solemnly at her desk, head bowed as she reviewed documents.
Cao Jing looked at her, his tone hesitant. "Did you truly return the petition?"
Meng Tinghui did not look up, merely uttering a vague acknowledgment without answering him.
He did not press further, his gaze lingering on her face for a few moments before he returned to his own desk to attend to official matters. For a long while, he did not speak to her again.
Around dusk, someone arrived outside the Remonstrance Hall and entered, calling out, "Lord Meng?"
Both Meng Tinghui and Cao Jing looked up to see the Crown Prince’s Yellow-robed Attendant. They quickly rose to greet him.
The attendant approached, ignoring Cao Jing, and addressed her directly: "Lord Meng, the Crown Prince has reviewed the petition and memorial you submitted. He has issued a vermilion endorsement directing the Censorate to detain Director Wang Qi of the Court of Imperial Stud in the Censorate Prison before dawn tomorrow. He has decreed that this matter, along with the previous Qing Province camp incident, be thoroughly reinvestigated. In two days, Minister Pan of the Court of Judicial Review, Vice Minister Liu of the Ministry of Justice, and Vice Censor-in-Chief Xue will conduct a Joint Trial by the Three Judicial Offices."
Meng Tinghui was startled. She had assumed that at most, Wang Qi would be ordered to remain at home pending investigation. She never expected he would be imprisoned in the Censorate Prison, let alone that the Crown Prince would order a Joint Trial by the Three Judicial Offices for this case!
She hadn’t anticipated that the petition she submitted would be endorsed so swiftly and so severely.
It seemed the Crown Prince had long harbored anger over the previous two Qing Province incidents, where senior court officials had blocked efforts to dismiss and prosecute Wang Qi. This presented a perfect opportunity to target Wang Qi again—how could he possibly let it slip away?
Cao Jing’s face also showed shock. He turned to look at her but could not utter a word. After a long pause, he frowned, gave a slight bow to the attendant, and strode out, lifting the hem of his robe.She watched Cao Jing's retreating figure for a long moment before finally withdrawing her gaze, letting out a soft sigh. She imagined Cao Jing must despise her utterly at this moment.
The Yellow-robed Attendant addressed her again: "His Highness inquires if Minister Meng has any further words to present?"
Meng Tinghui lowered her head and murmured softly, "His Highness is most discerning."
The Yellow-robed Attendant glanced around the empty advisory hall before revealing a smile. He stepped closer to her desk, unfurled his wide sleeve, and produced a small square wooden box which he gently placed before her. "This is what His Highness ordered this humble official to bring for Minister Meng."
She raised an eyebrow, studying the small wooden box.
Perfectly square, crafted from vibrant vermilion wood, it was intricately carved with vase patterns and highlighted with colored lacquer—exquisite and dazzling.
Her heart suddenly tightened. As she reached for the box, her fingertips trembled, then she opened it right before the attendant. Inside, the box was divided into four small compartments, each containing various delicacies.
Looking them over one by one—preserved plum ginger, fragrant fruit candies, crystal sugar lychees, and translucent dumplings—each appeared glistening and irresistible, leaving her momentarily stunned.
Meng Tinghui stood frozen in place, holding the wooden box, her cheeks faintly flushed.
The Yellow-robed Attendant said quietly, "Minister Meng, His Highness sent this humble official to purchase these from the night market at West Ferry Street last evening. They've been kept in the imperial kitchen's ice compartment for most of the day before being brought to you."
She lowered her gaze, closed the box lid, pressed her lips together, and finally said, "Please convey my response to His Highness: This subject thanks His Highness for his kindness, but feels unworthy to accept it."
Though claiming unworthiness, she clutched the box tightly, her palms burning.
Seeing her reaction, the Yellow-robed Attendant said nothing more, simply smiled and bowed before taking his leave.
Her legs suddenly weakened, and she sat down.
Unable to resist, she opened the box again, carefully examining each treat inside. No matter how long she looked, she couldn't bring herself to close it.
The attendant's words still echoed in her ears—
Purchased from the night market at West Ferry Street...
Bought from the night market...
The night market...
She couldn't suppress the smile forming at her lips, her eyes growing moist. She feared this might be a dream, that she would wake the next moment to discover it was all her imagination.
The fine patterns on the wooden box pressed into her palm, each line imprinting itself deep within her heart.
When a shadow suddenly passed by the hall entrance, she snapped back to reality, quickly closing and storing the box away. Her expression shifted as she assumed a formal demeanor, picking up a brush and lowering her head.
·
Though it was spring, the sun still set early, the sky soon shifting from dusky gray to deep indigo.
The Chancellery halls had grown quiet, with palace candles extinguished in several large chambers. Only then did Meng Tinghui close her records, gather her belongings, blow out her candle, and depart.
The early spring night wind remained bitingly cold. She tightened her collar and walked briskly, her hair bun slightly loosened, stray strands whipping wildly in the wind.
As she walked, her hand unconsciously slipped into her sleeve pocket to feel the plum-red wooden box.
A faint smile returned to her lips.
Even the night wind seemed pleasant now, the long brick path beneath her feet feeling neither as lengthy nor as difficult to traverse.
She tucked her chin into her official robe's high collar, biting her lip with a quiet laugh.
After all... after all, she hadn't been imagining things.
Her mind flashed with his stern countenance, and her heart instantly grew warm and soft, as if soaked in honeyed sweetness.
Taking a deep breath of the cold air, she gripped the wooden box and strode purposefully around the street corner.Shadows beneath the vermilion walls suddenly erupted with several figures lunging toward her. They seized her from behind, choking her neck and covering her mouth, then swiftly dragged her toward a nearby dead end.
Her throat burned with pain. She tried to scream in panic, but the hand muffling her mouth stifled any sound. A heavy blow struck her back, and amid dizzying disorientation, she was slammed onto the hard stone ground.
A sharp pain bloomed in her chest as multiple male hands clawed at her, tearing violently at her official robes. The faint, terrifying rustle of shredded fabric rippled through the silent night.
She struggled desperately, her long hair wild and tangled, but couldn't break free from the numerous hands pinning her limbs.
A bitter wind swept across her exposed skin, stinging sharply.
A man's coarse lips pressed against her body, biting and kissing fiercely while his large hands tugged at her long skirt, forcing her legs apart.
The ragged panting of other men echoed in her ears.
Tears dampened the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. In the darkness, she couldn't distinguish their faces, only feeling the rigid agony consuming her body.
The man atop her shifted slightly, one hand moving to undo his trousers.
Sensing some slack at her knees, her heart hammered wildly. Summoning all her strength, she jerked her leg upward, striking hard between the man's legs.
A low grunt of pain escaped him.
Instantly, a brutal slap smashed against her right cheek, so violent it made stars explode behind her eyes.
She choked silently, mouth still blocked, struggling to breathe. Another slap landed on her left cheek, and her head cracked sharply against a brick corner. The piercing pain instantly obliterated her consciousness, plunging her into oblivion.
The night was ink-black. On the long path outside the Eastern Palace, someone hurried urgently.
Near the palace gates, a crisp whip crack cut through the air as a horse and rider emerged against the lantern light, arriving abruptly.
The rider's lean figure shifted, bow and sword casting long shadows as he prepared to dismount.
The hurrying figure on the path recognized him and cried out, "Your Highness!" before jogging closer. "Where has Your Highness been? This humble servant has been searching everywhere!"
Palace Guard Commandant Di Nian had entered the palace by decree today for an audience. At sunset, the Crown Prince had accompanied him to the Palace Guard training grounds to practice archery and swordsmanship. When dusk fell, Di Nian took his leave and departed the palace, but the Crown Prince hadn't returned directly to the Eastern Palace. None of the Eastern Palace attendants knew his whereabouts.
Ying Gua tilted his head on horseback, noting the attendant's anxious expression. He straightened in the saddle, frowning. "What matter causes such alarm?"
The Junior Palace Attendant replied, "Half an hour ago, someone from Grand Tutor Shen's residence came to the palace gates with a message for Your Highness, reporting that Left Remonstrating Official of the Chancellery, Lord Meng, has met with misfortune."
The palace lanterns hanging behind them glared brightly. Against the light, his features remained indistinct, veiled only by the cold haze of night. After a long pause, he finally asked slowly, "Is Meng Tinghui safe?"
He didn't question why the messenger came from Shen Wuchen's residence, nor what incident within the imperial grounds could compel the Shen household to report so late at night despite avoiding suspicion. He only asked—whether she was unharmed.
The Junior Palace Attendant wiped his sweat with a sleeve, lowering his voice. "The messenger from the Shen residence only gave a general account. This humble servant was too rushed to inquire about Lord Meng's condition in detail and came straight to find Your Highness. But judging by the messenger's calm demeanor, Lord Meng likely isn't seriously harmed."
Hearing this, Ying Gua straightened and urged his horse forward, his voice carrying a faint chill. "What happened?" As he spoke, his right hand already reached for the previously stowed whip, fingers curling tightly around it.People shifted and horses moved, a side profile briefly appeared as the slanting glow of palace lanterns illuminated half his face—calm, unstartled, and strikingly stern.
The Junior Palace Attendant seemed hesitant to speak, lingering for a moment before stepping forward. Rising on tiptoes, he waited for the man to lean down before whispering rapidly into his ear.
Before the final word faded, a terrifying crack of a whip echoed through the air. In the next instant, the black steed shot forward like an arrow, its long mane slicing through the night, leaving only moonlight in its wake.
The man’s low, fierce shout urging the horse onward came from ahead. The Junior Palace Attendant shuddered and hurried back toward the Imperial City Guard outside the Forbidden Palace.
Passing the Horizontal Gate, the horse’s hooves pounded violently against the ground as the whip cracked more urgently. Guards at the palace gate near the Proclamation Tower barely dodged in time, nearly thrown off their feet by the horse and rider.
The long imperial street lay cold and deserted, the clatter of iron hooves growing increasingly chilling. The galloping figure never slowed, charging straight through the northern Watchtower gate of the palace city and heading directly toward the Shen residence in the eastern part of the city.
Nighttime dew condensed on his brows, the chill seeping layer by layer, filling his heart with frost.
All along the way, only her clear, untainted eyes occupied his thoughts.
As the horse raced on, the cold sword at his waist hummed and trembled. He tightened his grip on the reins, the whip cracking more urgently, wishing he could see her in the very next moment.
The high gate of the Shen residence came into view, the entire courtyard ablaze with light. Servants outside, seeing him galloping toward them, rushed to receive him while others hurried inside to report.
Ying Gua did not wait to rein in the horse; he leaped down before it had fully slowed, striding swiftly into the Shen residence. His tone, however, was unusually calm as he asked, "Where is she?"
A servant replied, "In the Eldest Young Miss’s room."
He walked briskly, only to collide unexpectedly with someone hurrying around a corridor corner.
"Your Highness?" The voice, both startled and urgent, was strikingly familiar.
His gaze sharpened as he recognized Di Nian, his expression shifting slightly. "Why are you here?"
Di Nian stepped aside to make way, walking with him further inside. "It’s not something to explain in a few words, Your Highness. You should go see Lady Meng first."
Though the inner corridors of the deep residence twisted and turned, he navigated them with familiarity, soon arriving at Shen Zhili’s courtyard. There, he saw Shen Zhili sitting on the corridor steps, hugging her knees, her expression somber.
She stood immediately upon seeing them. "Your Highness." She glanced at Di Nian but said nothing more.
Di Nian remained outside, not entering.
Ying Gua took two steps forward but paused at the doorway. Slowly, he untied the sword from his waist and handed it to Di Nian. His gaze shifted to Shen Zhili. "...Is she alright?"
Shen Zhili’s expression darkened further, anger flashing in her eyes. After a long pause, she replied, "She’s relatively fine."
Only then did he turn back to Di Nian. "Why was she brought to the Shen residence?"
Di Nian raised an eyebrow, his expression matter-of-fact. "When I rescued her, I didn’t think that far ahead. Given the circumstances, I couldn’t very well take Lady Meng back to the Female Officials’ Dormitory, could I?"
Ying Gua fell silent, realizing it was indeed Di Nian who had saved her. But he had no desire to inquire further at that moment. Slowly, he raised a hand, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
The room was warm, with long incense curtains hanging down, pooling gracefully on the floor. The delicate plum blossom patterns were exquisitely beautiful yet carried a lonely air.
He stood at the doorway, unmoving for a long while, simply gazing at the figure on the bed.
Through the sheer curtain, her form was indistinct—a slender shape beneath a thin quilt, her sharp chin brushing against the soft silk. Hearing the sound, she stirred uneasily.
Then her eyes opened, looking directly at him.He closed the door behind him and walked inside, his face expressionless, yet his gaze never left her.
Meng Tinghui watched him approach the bedside, her expression equally composed. She withdrew her hand from beneath the quilt to lift the bed curtain. "Your Highness."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Ying Gua remained silent, lifting the gauze curtain for her and hooking it onto the bedposts. He slowly gathered his robes and sat at the edge of the bed.
Her eyes were clear and unusually serene as she spoke again: "Your Highness has forgotten—there must be boundaries between ruler and subject." With that, she pushed herself up, but after only two movements, his hand abruptly pressed down on hers.
"I haven’t forgotten," he said, his tone icy.
She glanced down at his large hand covering hers, her arm trembling faintly. When she looked up, she met his inscrutable gaze.
He stared at her, a flicker of fire passing through his heterochromatic eyes—anger surging, mingled with reluctant tenderness.
She was wearing Shen Zhili’s dress, and the exposed skin of her neck bore glaring bruises, clearly from being gripped with force. Her long hair was tied high, and the area behind her right ear was swollen and red, medicated but still oozing traces of blood.
As if unaware of the pain, her gaze remained clear and steady. She lifted her lips slightly and said to him, "This subject is unharmed. It’s just that the plum-red wooden box Your Highness had delivered to me was lost. I hadn’t yet had the chance to taste the snacks inside…"
Before she could finish, he abruptly pulled her into his embrace.
She gasped softly, a sudden storm rising in her heart. Instinctively, she tried to push him away, but as her hand pressed against his chest, he tightened his hold, leaving her unable to move an inch.
His scorching breath brushed her ear: "Meng Tinghui."
Tears welled in her eyes.
Yet she stifled any sound, lowering her gaze as teardrops fell silently onto his shoulder.
Where her hand rested was his left chest—warm, his heartbeat steady and powerful, each beat striking her palm.
He held her, refusing to let go.
Just like that rainy night over a decade ago, when she had trembled all over, curled in his arms without a word or movement, until after a long, long time, she finally wept timidly.
Hearing her sobs, he loosened his hold slightly, moving his hand to cradle the back of her head and pressing it against his chest.
His long fingers threaded through her tightly bound hair, brushing against the swollen lump on the side of her head from the impact.
She muffled a groan, her shoulders and neck trembling—clearly in extreme pain.
He immediately released his hand, glancing sideways to see the blood behind her ear and the red marks on her face. In an instant, fury surged within him, burning through his chest with a searing pain, scorching his organs layer by layer until they felt raw and mangled.
For years, he had been called unfeeling and detached. Only today did it seem he had learned that the heart resides within the body—and the heart can ache.
He had never before taken the initiative to embrace her like this.
Yet this single embrace made her feel that all she had ever sought or longed for over the years was just such a hold—warm and strong, firm and unyielding, enough for her to lean on and trust.
He expected her to weep uncontrollably, but after only a few soft sobs, she buried her head against his chest, her damp lashes drooping slightly as her breathing grew faint, as if her strength had been spent.
This night must have been filled with terror and exhaustion for her; she was undoubtedly utterly weary.
He sat motionless, his arm bent around her waist, letting her lean against his chest and fall asleep. He lowered his gaze to her seemingly tranquil face.
Every time he saw the stark slap marks, the flames in his heart flickered faintly.The skin exposed beyond her dress bore so many bruises that he could almost imagine how she had been mistreated earlier.
His hand resting on the bedside involuntarily clenched.
Fortunately, she wasn’t seriously injured.
Otherwise…
As if sensing his anger, she stirred lightly in her shallow sleep, her eyelids fluttering slightly before opening. Her dark pupils, still hazy with moisture, looked toward him.
He slowly laid her flat and pulled the quilt up over her. "Sleep."
When her head touched the soft pillow, she winced slightly. Realizing he had inadvertently pressed against her injuries again, his expression darkened instantly. He called sharply toward the door, "Someone!"
Shen Zhili pushed the door open, took in the scene, and instinctively retreated half a step before lowering her head. "Your Highness."
He frowned sternly. "Send someone to the palace to summon the Imperial Physician."
Without a word, Shen Zhili withdrew, gently closing the door behind her.
Meng Tinghui reached out to lightly tug at his sleeve. "Your Highness, why trouble Lord Shen?" She shifted slightly and smiled. "Before I woke, Lord Shen had already called a physician to examine me." She pointed to several small medicine boxes on the bedside table. "The physician said these are all external injuries. Applying these ointments for a few days will suffice."
Seeing her faint smile, his expression grew even colder, his face darkening further. He remained silent, reaching for the medicine boxes and opening them one by one. He carefully sniffed each, his tightly knit brows relaxing only slightly. Selecting a pale cream-colored ointment, he dipped his finger, scooped a layer, and cradled her face with his other hand, gently applying it to her wounds.
The ointment was cool and soft, but his fingers were firm and warm. Though he was cautious, his touch remained unconsciously heavy. Where he touched her, it ached, but she endured without complaint, simply staring at him in a daze.
She knew he was always meticulous and focused, capable of handling anything with unparalleled skill, but she had never imagined he would be so attentive... toward her.
His expression remained stern and unyielding, yet his gaze held a gentle indifference that made her heartbeat gradually quicken, until her cheeks flushed with warmth.
She recalled that night when she had bared her heart to him, and he had turned his face away, refusing to meet her eyes.
She remembered the mix of surprise and joy she had felt upon receiving the street snacks he had sent her during the day.
Before she could ask how he truly felt, this incident had occurred. Yet, looking at him now, she suddenly felt that some things didn’t need to be asked to be confirmed.
This was enough.
He applied the ointment to the bruises on her face, behind her ears, and along her neck. Then, closing the medicine box, he rested his hands on his knees and gazed at her intently for a long moment before speaking in a hoarse voice, "...Did you see those people clearly?"
At his words, her expression instantly turned cold.
She knew he would not let those people off lightly and that he must have restrained himself for a long time before asking this question. Yet, she had nothing to tell him.
The night had been so dark. In her struggle, she had been knocked unconscious before she could see anything clearly. By the time she woke, she was already in the Shen residence, unaware of what had transpired afterward.
After a long pause, she shook her head.
He noticed the complexity in her gaze but did not know what she was thinking, assuming she was reliving the terrifying experience. He reached out to stroke her hair, then stood up. "Stay at the Shen residence for the next few days. Return to court only when you have fully recovered."But her expression remained composed, not as if recalling something unpleasant. Seeing he was about to leave, she suddenly called out to stop him: "Your Highness."
He turned back, raising an eyebrow.
She propped herself up halfway, "Your Highness, this subject has a request."
He saw the glimmer in her eyes and knew she must be scheming something again. Frowning, he couldn't understand how she could still have the mind to seriously make requests at such a moment. He watched her coldly for a long while, but ultimately couldn't bear to refuse her, saying only: "Speak."
Her voice cooled, each word deliberate: "I request Your Highness permit me to participate in the trial of Wang Qi's case."
"Absurd!" he refuted without hesitation, his face turning angry.
Never mind her current state covered in wounds—why wasn't she considering her own condition? Just the fact that he had already handed Wang Qi's case to the Joint Trial by the Three Judicial Offices—the Dali Temple, the Ministry of Justice, and the Censorate—how could the Chancellery be allowed to interfere!
Seeing his expression change, she said nothing more, quietly gathering the thin quilt around herself. Her lashes lifted then fell, her face pale and faint.
Even if she were foolish, she would know tonight's events must be related to Wang Qi's case—previously, the memorial impeaching her by Censorate Attendant Censor Yan Sou had been suppressed by him. No doubt the Censorate officials privately discussed how the Crown Prince favored her excessively, and her reputation as a sycophant was inevitable. Today, Wang Qi had been imprisoned in the Censorate Prison because of one memorial from her—in others' eyes, this would surely be seen as another result of her flattery.
Those Eastern Faction court officials...
As she thought, a pain began to throb at her temple.
She had been too naive, thinking she could remain safe by avoiding conflict with others. Little did she know that while she didn't intentionally harm others, they wouldn't spare her because of it.
Ultimately, this must have been done to intimidate her—Wang Qi alone wasn't worth the Eastern Faction retaliating against her over this matter. They merely feared her growing influence after hearing rumors of the Crown Prince's favor, wanting to teach her a lesson so she wouldn't spend her days currying favor.
Her expression grew colder, her hand clenching lightly beneath the quilt.
If they were going to push her to this point, then don't blame her for abandoning the path of virtue.
She lifted her gaze to him: "Your Highness came here tonight without concealment again. By now, everyone in the Forbidden Palace of the Great Within must know. The Censorate officials already say I receive excessive favor—where will I ever recover my clean reputation?"
Meeting her gaze, his tone turned sharp: "You're dissatisfied?"
She suddenly smiled softly: "How could I be dissatisfied? I merely..." Her delicate brows relaxed slightly, her voice lowering: "I merely feel that since I already bear this reputation for currying favor and being a sycophantic favorite, if Your Highness doesn't grant my request, these injuries would have been suffered in vain."
He fell silent, his stern expression softening slightly.
Suddenly—suddenly he felt like laughing.
He knew her little schemes, knew she was playing her tricks, but looking at her like this, he could no longer bring himself to refuse.
Moreover, those who harmed her deserved no mercy.
Though he would investigate thoroughly for her, he also knew she wouldn't rest content.
Since that was the case, so be it.
He tilted his brow and glanced sideways, murmuring: "Granted."
She pressed her lips together, watching him push the door open and leave, her heart suddenly trembling.
Who was it that said, long has it been since the Crown Prince smiled, little knowing his smile could also intimidate...
Indeed, it was no falsehood.
OpenNovel