Love and Crown

Calming down and thinking carefully, everything became clear.

Yesterday afternoon, Xian Xue must have already entered the palace and been discovered.

Xiao Huan acted decisively, summoning me to his side to keep me occupied. On one hand, it was to prevent Xian Xue and me from colluding; on the other, even if Xian Xue fought his way to the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Xiao Huan would have an extra hostage in hand.

As for Little Ma, who had spent the afternoon searching for an opportunity to pass me a message, he likely wanted to inform me that Xian Xue was already in the palace before Xian Xue was captured—unfortunately, he was a step too late.

Then came the scene last night. After half a day of struggle, Xian Xue, outnumbered, was captured but demanded to see me.

Xiao Huan granted this favor, taking me to see Xian Xue, then knocking him unconscious and imprisoning him.

Last night, I thought Xiao Huan might kill Xian Xue with a single strike—how needlessly anxious I was. Without extracting any confession, how could Xiao Huan let such an important witness die?

Now, the only remaining question is: Why did Father send Xian Xue to assassinate Xiao Huan? He knew full well that even if Xian Xue was one of the top assassins in the Martial World, the chances of success in an assassination attempt within the palace were slim. Even if he miraculously succeeded, he likely wouldn’t make it out alive. This was practically sending Xian Xue to his death!

Why was Father so determined to have Xian Xue die?

A faint sting pricked my heart, and vaguely, I understood Father’s intention.

Having sorted everything out, I got out of bed and called the maids to help me wash and dress.

Once I was ready, it was still early.

There was no grand court session today, but before noon, Xiao Huan would be in the front hall, listening to the Grand Secretariat Ministers report on state affairs. The entire Hall of Mental Cultivation was quiet, with even the eunuchs and maids moving about sparingly.

I stepped outside and made my way to the front hall, lifting my skirts to kneel at the base of the steps.

The maids following me were startled, but none dared to approach and dissuade me, kneeling at a distance instead.

Though quiet, the Hall of Mental Cultivation still saw many attendants coming and going. Several eunuchs on their way to deliver messages saw me kneeling before the hall, their faces filled with fear, afraid of inadvertently inviting misfortune. None dared to enter and report to Xiao Huan.

Before I knew it, I had been kneeling for over half an hour.

Then, an elderly man in court robes emerged from the hall—Qi Xiangfei, the Minister of War and a veteran of three reigns. Seeing the scene before him, the old minister paused in surprise before walking over to me. "Your Majesty the Empress, what is the matter?"

I looked up and smiled at him but did not answer.

The old minister hesitated, then stamped his foot and returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Soon, movement came from inside the hall—many footsteps approached swiftly, led by a pair of black court boots.

Standing before me, Xiao Huan’s voice was icy. "Get up."

Not even addressing me as "Empress," just saying "you"—it seemed my deliberate act of kneeling before the Hall of Mental Cultivation for all the attendants and officials to see had angered him greatly.

"Last night, this subject unwittingly offended Your Majesty. I have come to seek forgiveness." I kept my head lowered, reciting the prepared words.

I didn’t know whether the murderous intent I had shown last night had already enraged Xiao Huan, but with Xian Xue in his hands, if I wanted Xian Xue to live, the last person I could afford to offend was Xiao Huan. Whether he was angry or not, this kneeling at least expressed my resolve to settle the matter peacefully.

Silence lingered on the other side. Then he coughed lightly before speaking again, his voice now carrying the usual faint politeness. "Empress, please rise first."Only then was I able to get up. I secretly sighed in relief, holding onto my skirt as I stood, my legs stiff from kneeling. I staggered slightly as I rose.

Feng Wufu, who was beside Xiao Huan, quickly stepped forward to steady me. "Your Majesty, be careful."

Xiao Huan watched coldly, coughed once more, and ignored me, turning instead to the gathered ministers with a smile. "Gentlemen, let us return."

The crowd dispersed before me, but Feng Wufu remained, bowing slightly. "Your Majesty, please wait for His Majesty in the side chamber."

I nodded and followed him. Unintentionally, I heard him sigh very softly as he turned.

This wait lasted over two hours. By midday, Feng Wufu came to escort me to dine with Xiao Huan.

I had expected to see an enraged emperor, but Xiao Huan, already seated at the table, wore a faint smile, not a trace of anger on his face. Then again, Xiao Huan’s composure was always impeccable—I had rarely seen him lose his temper, let alone raise his voice.

He smiled at me. "Has Her Majesty grown impatient waiting?"

"Your Majesty jests. Having erred, it is only right that I wait—or even kneel outside for half a day," I replied earnestly.

His smile remained unchanged. "Is that so? Then why has Her Majesty come so sincerely to apologize?"

Since he was being direct, I saw no need to hide my intentions. "Your Majesty knows that the person captured last night is an old friend of mine. I wish to ask Your Majesty to grant me this favor."

He smiled but didn’t answer, simply watching me with that same faint amusement.

His gaze made me uneasy, and I couldn’t help frowning. "Will Your Majesty not grant me this favor?"

"And if I refuse, what will Her Majesty do?" He chuckled. "Continue kneeling before the hall?"

I was taken aback, but before I could respond, his tone softened slightly. "You haven’t eaten since morning, have you? Have something first."

Lowering my gaze, I finally noticed the dishes on the table. Placed closest to me was the First-Rank Rice Wine Osmanthus Soup, my favorite. The attendant beside me, quick to notice my glance, ladled half a bowl into a delicate Blue Porcelain cup and set it by my hand.

A soft cough came from across the table. I looked up to see Xiao Huan, now dressed in a pale blue casual robe, holding an amber wine cup, his eyes half-lowered as if deep in thought.

I took a large spoonful of the osmanthus soup and lowered my head again, avoiding his gaze.

The rest of the meal passed in silence—I ate while he sipped his wine. Neither of us looked up again until the meal was over.

The favor Xiao Huan granted was allowing me to see Xian Xue.

Xian Xue wasn’t held in the Brocade Uniform Guard’s Secret Prison but in a secluded chamber within the palace.

When Shi Yan, his face stern and square, led me there, Xian Xue’s wounds had already been treated. Thick bandages wrapped around him, he lay awake on the bed, staring at the canopy above, lost in thought.

I approached slowly, and only then did Xian Xue turn his head to look at me, smiling faintly. "Young Miss."

Xian Xue’s face was pale, his voice weak. If I hadn’t listened carefully, I might not have heard him at all.My eyes stung with unshed tears. In my memories, Xian Xue was always full of vigor—his sword had made him famous across the land, he would spend fortunes on wine without a second thought, and even those seemingly lazy amber eyes of his would occasionally reveal a proud, brilliant light when he glanced around.

"Xian Xue, I'm sorry." I didn't know why those were the first words out of my mouth, but truly at a loss for what else to say, I repeated, "I'm sorry."

Xian Xue looked at me, a smile gradually appearing in his calm eyes. "Silly girl, you don't need to apologize to me."

My eyes stung even more. I knelt by the bed and grasped his cold hand. "Xian Xue, I will save you, no matter what it takes. I will get you out of here!"

I had long vowed never to cry again, yet at this moment, my eyes burned unbearably. I pressed my forehead hard against the edge of the bed, afraid that if I moved even slightly, tears would spill down my cheeks.

Why had Father sent Xian Xue into the palace to assassinate the emperor? The answer was simple: because my father, Ling Xuefeng, the empire's foremost minister, wanted him dead. A peerless sword like him could not simply be left to gather dust—so he was sent on a mission to assassinate the emperor, a task doomed to fail, meant only to be the sword's final blaze of glory. Even if it couldn't shake heaven and earth, it would leave behind a fleeting brilliance like fireworks.

But why did Xian Xue have to die? The answer was just as clear: because his daughter, the empress of the empire, had grown too close to this sword... dangerously close.

It was I who had dragged Xian Xue into this, using him as a shield against Xiao Huan. It was I who had recklessly left the palace to see him, heedless of the risk of discovery. It was I who had made Father realize he was a dangerous tool, prompting the decision to discard him... If I couldn't save Xian Xue now, then his death would be on my hands.

I lifted my head and looked at him, forcing a smile. "How are your injuries? Are you in much pain?"

"The internal injuries aren't life-threatening," he said with a weak chuckle, still managing to joke. "Don't worry, your master has walked the edge of blades before. A little wound like this is nothing." Then he asked, "How is he doing?"

I froze, completely baffled. "Who? Who do you mean?"

A flicker of confusion passed over Xian Xue's face before he smiled again. "Never mind, just a passing thought."

Shi Yan, waiting by the door to escort me out, didn't rush me, so I lingered a while longer, chatting with Xian Xue until he seemed tired, and only then did I leave.

Walking down the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the Forbidden Palace afterward, I racked my brain for a way to save Xian Xue, but my thoughts were too tangled to find any clear solution.

At this point, all I could do was take things one step at a time.

After returning from Xian Xue's quarters, I went to the Palace of Compassionate Tranquility to see the Empress Dowager. I told her I missed my family and wished to see my father.

The Empress Dowager was quite accommodating in this regard and immediately sent word to my family. As it happened, my father wasn't on duty at the Grand Secretariat that day, so by afternoon, I met with him at the Palace of Gathered Elegance.

It hadn't actually been that long since we last saw each other at the Empress Dowager's birthday banquet, but it felt like ages since my father and I had sat down together like this, just the two of us.I was four years old when my father brought me from the countryside to the capital. Before that, I had lived with Granny in the village. Though she was already very old and illiterate, she always kept our small home spotless, and I was invariably the cleanest and neatest-dressed child in the entire village.

At four, Granny had someone deliver a letter to the capital. Soon after, one early morning, I saw my father at our doorstep, his face weathered from the journey to fetch me. It was only then that I learned my mother had abandoned my father and elder brother while pregnant with me, coming alone to this small village to give birth. After leaving me with the midwife who delivered me, she vanished without a trace. The Granny who raised me had no blood relation to me at all.

After bringing me to the capital, my father took me everywhere when he wasn’t attending court, seating me on his knee as he wrote those convoluted and incomprehensible memorials. For a time, I truly believed I was the most cherished child—with a doting, indulgent father and an elder brother who played wildly with me and fought my battles.

Even until the year before I entered the palace, my father would often open a jar of wine on moonlit nights, drinking and chatting idly with my brother and me. My capacity for liquor, unshaken even after a thousand cups, was entirely the result of his influence.

Back then, my father was like a myth in my eyes.

He passed the provincial examination at seventeen, was personally named Zhuangyuan by the late emperor in the palace examination at twenty-four, and entered the Hanlin Academy. By twenty-six, he was Vice Minister of Rites. At twenty-seven, he impeached a powerful minister, offending influential officials, and was imprisoned on trumped-up charges. Reinstated at twenty-eight, by twenty-nine he single-handedly thwarted the then-overbearing Grand Secretary Gao, forcing this veteran minister of two reigns to retire to his hometown. At thirty, recommended by the court and approved by imperial edict from the late emperor, he entered the Grand Secretariat, becoming the youngest minister in recent dynasties. A few years later, when the then-Grand Secretary Li Yi suddenly fell ill and died, my father smoothly succeeded him, becoming the youngest Grand Secretary in the empire’s history—at just thirty-five.

Over twenty years of political turbulence and a decade as the empire’s foremost minister, my father showed not a trace of worldly compromise or cunning. "Uncorrupted and upright"—this was the praise I heard countless times from others, spoken with genuine reverence by every court official who mentioned him.

Such a father made his children so proud that the thought of surpassing him never even arose. We felt that if we could come infinitely close to his shadow in this lifetime, it would be enough.

That was why, when I discovered the side of my father I had never known, it struck me so profoundly.

Vast sums of secretly hoarded wealth, assassins and disciples sworn to loyalty unto death, an all-pervasive intelligence network—these too were under my father’s control.

That day, when I saw the means by which my father consolidated his power, something shattered piece by piece. The world that had once been clearly divided into black and white, good and evil, was gone forever.

Up close, the white hairs at my father’s temples seemed more numerous than a few months prior, though his face remained as composed and serene as ever.

After entering and seating ourselves, I signaled for Xiaoshan to clear the room.

As my fingers absently traced the Doucai tea bowl beside me, my father spoke first, without waiting for me to begin: "Are you well in the palace?""Good or bad, this is how it is." Not in the mood for lengthy explanations, I cut straight to the point. "Let Luo Xian Xue go. This is my fault."

Father seemed momentarily stunned, then frowned. "What nonsense are you talking?"

I sneered. "Wasn't it you who feared I was getting too close to Xian Xue, so you sent him into the palace to die? This is all my fault—I seduced him, I caused this mess, and I'll clean it up myself. So there's no need for you to interfere!"

Father's hands trembled slightly as he glared at me.

I raised my head and met his gaze.

"Is this how you speak to your father?" he suddenly sneered.

I had never seen Father sneer before. Under the weight of decades of official authority, I couldn't help but avert my eyes, though I still held my head high. "Do I have a second father to speak to?"

Father was furious, letting out a series of cold laughs. "Very good, very good... Your mind hasn't improved, but your ability to provoke with words has certainly grown!"

I bit my lip. "What can I do? As I grow older, I have to develop some skills so I don't look like a fool!"

Father's chest heaved as he narrowed his eyes at me. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "Believe it or not, Luo Xian Xue was not sent into the palace by me. You're right—this is your matter, your own mess to clean up. I won't ruin your plans, but don't expect any help from me either!" With that, Father abruptly stood up, ignoring the teacup he knocked over, and stormed out.

I lowered my head and stared at the fallen teacup, watching the tea seep into the crimson carpet. After what felt like an eternity, I finally exhaled, as if releasing a long-held tension.

This was how it always was. Ever since those events, every meeting with Father seemed to end in an argument.

At first, it had been tearful accusations. Then, it escalated into words meant to wound. Though we had quarreled countless times since childhood, it had never felt like this—each argument leaving us colder, each one making reconciliation seem more impossible.

"Miss..." Xiaoshan hesitantly entered, having likely overheard some of the commotion. "His Lordship rarely visits. Why couldn't you speak properly..."

"Now isn't the time for proper conversation." I took a deep breath and raised my head, only to notice a paper package lying on the floor by the door.

Xiaoshan saw it too, picked it up, and brought it to me. When we opened it, we found it was a packet of sesame candy.

When Father first brought me to the capital, I would cry every day and refuse to eat. After court, he would carry me to Chalou Theater on Qianmen Street to watch operas. Next to the theater was a pastry shop that sold delicious sesame candy—a childhood favorite of mine. Before entering the palace, I would often go there myself to buy a couple of packets.

The long, twisted strands of sesame candy were now completely shattered, likely having fallen from Father's sleeve during his hurried exit.

Xiaoshan remained silent. I smiled faintly, took the package, and handed it to Jiao Yan, the palace maid who had come in to clean up the spilled tea. "This is for you."

Jiao Yan looked surprised but smiled and accepted the package with both hands. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

I smiled again, took another deep breath, and exhaled slowly. At least now I knew Xian Xue hadn't been sent into the palace by Father. If Father didn't want him dead, then there was still some hope—things might be a little easier now.Then it occurred to me: If it wasn't my father who sent him, then who instructed Xian Xue to enter the palace, and for what purpose?

My mind was in turmoil, feeling that the more I thought about it, the more mistaken I became, so I had no choice but to stop dwelling on it.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, I barely ate anything during dinner.

After dinner, I decided to go to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to see Xiao Huan and try to gauge his reaction.

Having made up my mind, I put on my hooded cloak, instructed Xiaoshan to stay in the palace, and quietly slipped out through the Gate of Gathered Elegance alone.

Perhaps I was walking too fast, and the night was dark—I nearly collided with someone head-on. The person steadied me by the shoulders and laughed, "Where is this young lady rushing off to in such a hurry?"

I recognized the voice as Li Hongqing's. The deputy commander of the Imperial Bodyguards was known for his casual demeanor, often joking with the palace maids. Young and handsome, he was quite popular among them.

I smiled. "And where is Deputy Commander Li rushing off to?"

Recognizing me, Li Hongqing immediately released me and stepped back, maintaining proper etiquette, though his tone remained lighthearted as he continued to smile. "Greetings to Her Majesty the Empress. This humble official isn't in nearly as much of a hurry as Your Majesty." He reached up and touched the top of his head, signaling for me to do the same. "Your Majesty's hood."

I touched my head—indeed, I had put it on too hastily, and half of it had slipped beneath my hair bun. I adjusted it and smiled. "Thank you, Deputy Commander Li."

He smiled back, bowed again, and then took his leave.

I walked along the corridor all the way to the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Just as I was about to ask the attendant to announce my arrival, I saw Feng Wufu hurrying out from inside. He froze when he saw me. "Your Majesty the Empress, what brings you here?"

He seemed somewhat flustered, which struck me as odd. "I've come to see His Majesty. Is he unavailable at the moment?"

"Available... and yet not..." He sighed. "For the past two hours, he hasn't allowed anyone inside, and he hasn't had dinner. It's truly worrying."

"His Majesty?" I asked.

"Yes," Feng Wufu sighed again. "His Majesty never allows attendants inside unless he calls for them. But since the Hour of the Monkey today, no one has been summoned... and yet we can't just barge in..."

"Perhaps he was absorbed in reviewing memorials and forgot," I offered casually, trying to reassure him. "Why not go in and check? Others might displease His Majesty, but he surely wouldn't blame Eunuch Feng."

Seemingly persuaded by my words, Feng Wufu nodded slowly, then suddenly brightened and looked at me. "Right! If it's Your Majesty the Empress, His Majesty definitely wouldn't be angry." As he spoke, he beckoned a young maid over and took my hand. "Then may I trouble Your Majesty to go inside? Didn't you also have matters to discuss with His Majesty? Perfect timing, perfect timing." Before I could react, a tray with a teacup was thrust into my hands.

Feng Wufu pulled me toward the hall, muttering, "Bring this bowl of Ginseng Tea to His Majesty, and remember to urge him to drink it quickly—it's no good if it gets cold."

Dazed, I found myself shoved to the entrance of the warm chamber before realizing: I had just been used by Feng Wufu as both a maid and a shield...

There was no time to argue with that old fox. Since I was already at the door, standing there awkwardly wouldn't help. Holding the tray, I cleared my throat and announced, "Your Majesty, your consort requests an audience." After waiting a moment with no response, I called again, "Your Majesty, your consort requests an audience!"There was still no sound from within, so I had no choice but to push the door open with one hand while carefully balancing the tray with the other, stepping inside cautiously. "Your Majesty? This concubine..."

No wonder Feng Wufu had been so anxious. The sky had long since darkened, yet only a single palace lantern was lit in the Warm Chamber. If not for the light filtering through the large glass panes of the windows, one wouldn't even be able to make out human shadows inside. The flickering darkness made the entire chamber feel even more desolate and cold.

As I approached, I saw Xiao Huan leaning against the wall with his head propped on his hand, his head bowed so low that I couldn’t tell if his eyes were closed. Given how dim the lighting was, it was unlikely he was reading memorials.

Everyone outside was nearly frantic with worry—was he really just taking a nap here?

I cleared my throat loudly. "Your Majesty, your consort has arrived!"

He finally stirred, taking a moment before seeming to rouse himself. With a light cough, he lowered the hand propping his head and pressed it to his forehead, his voice slightly hoarse. "Empress?"

I smiled in response. "It is I. I wished to discuss some matters with Your Majesty. Upon arriving, I learned you had barred entry for the past two hours. Eunuch Feng took the liberty of allowing me in to wake you. I hope you do not take offense?"

He gave a faint "Mm," then asked inexplicably, "Has it been two hours already? What time is it now?"

"The first quarter of the Hour of Xu. The night watch has already sounded." Finding his behavior odd, I spoke while stepping closer to the couch.

Unprepared for my sudden approach, he lowered his hand and coughed out a laugh. "I truly must thank the Empress. If I had slept any longer, I fear I wouldn’t have finished reviewing these memorials tonight."

Only when I drew near did I notice how pale his face looked under the dim lamplight, a sheen of fine sweat covering his forehead. Beneath his propped arm lay an unfolded memorial, faint traces of vermillion ink scattered across it. The red brush that should have been on the desk had fallen onto the couch, staining the bright yellow brocade.

This state of his—had he really just been lazily napping earlier?

If he wanted to hide it, why should I expose him? Smiling, I set the teacup in my hand down by the table.

I decided to cut straight to the point. "Your Majesty is wise. Surely you know why I’ve come?"

Another soft "Mm" escaped him, followed by a few light coughs as he kept his head lowered.

I waited for him to finish, but the coughing persisted intermittently, growing so severe that he bent forward over his arm, yet it still didn’t stop.

Already somewhat irritated, my tone turned sharp. "Does Your Majesty wish to hear what I have to say?"

Hearing me, he lifted his head with a smile, still coughing. "My apologies... this cup of tea... might the Empress... pass it to me...?"

I froze, only then realizing I had placed the teacup too far out. For him to reach it, he would have to lean forward—an effort he clearly couldn’t manage.

Pressing my hand over the teacup, I mustered my courage. Driven by urgency, afraid I might never get another chance to make this request, I blurted, "Your Majesty, I can hand you this tea—but first, I beg you to promise me that you will drop the charges against Xian Xue and release him from the palace." The words spilled out in one breath, and I watched him, waiting for his answer.

He said nothing. His deep, dark eyes were utterly still. Though the light was dim, the intensity of his gaze made me unable to meet it directly.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke between light coughs, a faint smile touching his lips. "I promise..."

Relieved, I quickly lifted my hand from the teacup—only to fumble. The already unsteady cup tipped over, slipping past my grasping fingers and shattering on the floor.

The Warm Chamber’s floor was covered in a navy-blue carpet, so the cup didn’t break, but the tea spilled out, soaking a dark patch into the fabric.

This was the second cup of tea spilled before me today.

I looked up at him, momentarily stunned, then hurried to say, "I’ll fetch another one right away—"He smiled slightly and closed his eyes. "It's alright... no need..."

I didn't know what to say, so I nodded. "This concubine will take her leave now."

After taking two steps away, I heard him speak softly behind me. "Three days later..."

I immediately understood he was referring to when Xian Xue would be released. Turning back quickly, I asked, "Why three days later?"

He paused, then smiled at me. "By then, his external injuries should have healed..."

I froze. After a moment, I forced a smile at him and turned to leave.

Xiao Huan was right—he didn't need me to refill his tea.

As soon as I stepped out of the Warm Chamber's door and merely said to Feng Wufu guarding the entrance, "The teacup spilled," he had already rushed inside with a young eunuch. With a loud "bang," the door was shut right in my face.

Standing at the foot of the steps, I was momentarily stunned. Some of the spilled tea still lingered on my hand—it had been hot when first spilled, but now, cooled by the night breeze, it felt slightly chilly.

Clenching my palm, I felt a sudden daze. The person I am now—isn't she detestable? Suspicious, distrustful, scheming... always wanting to owe no one, yet it seems I owe everyone.