Chapter 73
Proofreader : Mim
The next day, Li Zhi heard in the Palace Administration Bureau about the news of an inner servant hanging himself in Yaohua Palace.
In the depths of the palace, the most ominous places were always the dead trees and wells.
Although such occurrences were far from rare in the palace, Li Zhi’s instincts told her to dig deeper into the specifics of this particular case.
When she learned the location where the inner servant had hanged himself, the image of Xie Lanxu’s worn, pale purple belt flashed vividly in her mind.
The creases and claw marks on the belt now had an explanation.
A life had been lost because of her. Li Zhi couldn’t remain completely indifferent, though she was far from being overwhelmed by guilt. If she had been the one to encounter the servant from Yaohua Palace, what would she have done?
She could only feel relieved that Xie Lanxu had spared her from having to make such a choice.
After finishing her duties for the day, Li Zhi returned home to find—unsurprisingly—that Xie Lanxu was already there.
It seemed the Prince Langya had forgotten where the Langya Residence was. For days now, he had made a habit of returning to Li Zhi’s home after court duties, conducting official business from her study. The two would part ways on their way to the palace in the morning, only to reunite again afterward.
Li Zhi pushed aside the lingering image of the pale purple belt and the desperate hands that had clawed at it. Plastering on a deliberately nonchalant smile, she walked over to where Xie Lanxu was reclining on the daybed.
Following his gaze, she noticed he was staring blankly at the withered wisteria vines outside the window.
“The person spreading the rumors has already been dealt with. What else are you worrying about?” Li Zhi leaned against him, her voice soft.
Xie Lanxu lifted a hand and wrapped it around her shoulder.
“It was resolved too easily,” he said slowly.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Li Zhi laughed lightly. “The princes of the capital, pampered and idle, can’t possibly outmaneuver my Ah-Li.”
“No, something isn’t right.” Xie Lanxu shook his head, his tone contemplative. “The investigation progressed too smoothly. It feels as if everything was prearranged.”
“You think…” Li Zhi trailed off.
“Someone’s helping us from the shadows,” Xie Lanxu said, frowning slightly. “But I don’t know who it is.”
Li Zhi tried to reassure him. “When the time comes, the truth will reveal itself. As long as they don’t mean us harm, there’s no need to worry.”
Xie Lanxu nodded faintly. Then, his hand shifted, resting lightly on her stomach.
“Have you been taking medicine?” he asked, looking directly at her.
“What medicine?” Li Zhi feigned ignorance.
Xie Lanxu didn’t beat around the bush. “Contraceptive medicine.”
Of course, Li Zhi had been taking it.
Having witnessed her sister die from excessive blood loss due to failed abortive remedies, she couldn’t allow herself to risk carrying a child that would inevitably have to be aborted.
She wrapped her arms around Xie Lanxu’s neck, pressing her face affectionately against his collarbone, hiding her eyes.
“I’ll do whatever Ah-Li says,” she murmured.
She wanted him to tell her to keep taking the medicine so that she could do so without guilt, without hesitation—so she could justify extinguishing the possibility of their future together.
In truth, Li Zhi had never seriously considered a future with the current Xie Lanxu.
Although Xie Lanxu bore the title of Crown Prince, his father had died branded as a traitor. His support came from the fleeting remnants of the previous dynasty’s loyalists and rumors of buried treasures. If those forces managed to stage a successful rebellion and restore the old regime, Xie Lanxu might inherit the throne. If they failed, his lineage and his father’s infamy as a traitor ensured he would never ascend to power.
Li Zhi, on the other hand, aspired to be the empress—to command the court and rule as mother of the nation.
The only child she would bear would be the heir to the throne.
“Even the best medicine has its risks. The imperial harem is full of concubines who have damaged their health by drinking abortifacients,” Xie Lanxu said softly, his hand resting gently on her abdomen. “I won’t let you follow the same path as them.”
Li Zhi raised her eyebrows and asked deliberately, “What if I were to become pregnant?”
Xie Lanxu lowered his gaze, his voice steady but resolute. “Then, until we’re married, I will not touch you again.”
Li Zhi had expected him to make a promise, but she hadn’t anticipated this kind of promise.
When she had posed the question, sharp and probing, she had already decided internally that no matter how Xie Lanxu responded, she would continue taking the medicine.
She had assumed his answer would be something self-assured, like, ‘If you’re with child, then we’ll marry immediately.’
But instead, he said something entirely unexpected.
“When the time is right, I’ll request an imperial decree for our marriage,” Xie Lanxu continued, as if sensing her surprise. “I told you before—I will marry you.”
Li Zhi couldn’t help but ask, “…Do you think the Emperor will agree?”
“If I wanted to marry a woman from a noble family, he would strongly oppose it,” Xie Lanxu said, his tone calm. “But marrying you? That aligns perfectly with his wishes.”
Li Zhi pondered this briefly and quickly understood.
If Prince Feng wanted to marry her, both the Emperor and Noble Consort Yi would never sit idly by—they intended for Prince Feng to inherit the throne, after all.
But Xie Lanxu? The Emperor had no plans for him to ascend the throne. If anything, the Emperor harbored suspicion and caution toward him due to his connections with the deposed Crown Prince. For Xie Lanxu to marry the daughter of a convicted criminal would only tarnish his standing—something the Emperor would happily approve of.
Yet, there was one thing Xie Lanxu seemed to have overlooked.
For all his keen foresight, even he hadn’t considered this detail: the Emperor’s personal feelings toward her.
While the Emperor currently seemed devoid of romantic or sexual interest in her, there was no guarantee he would be willing to see someone with her face marry another man.
Li Zhi asked quietly, her voice tinged with curiosity and testing, “So, Ah-Li, are you only marrying me to put the Emperor at ease?”
Xie Lanxu’s eyes darkened, and he replied coldly, “Then perhaps I should make it widely known that I prefer men and intend to marry Hei Huo.”
His sarcasm was as sharp as a blade. “You know the answer, yet you still ask to toy with me. Are you pleased with yourself now?”
Li Zhi couldn’t help but laugh, burying her face in his chest to stifle the sound.
Outside, winter’s chill blanketed the world in stillness and frost. But inside, it was as warm as spring, and not just because of the crackling brazier.
Li Zhi closed her eyes and murmured softly, “If only time could stop in this moment…”
—
The midnight had just passed, and the area outside Chunyu Gate was already bustling with the clatter of officials’ carriages, each waiting their turn to enter the palace for morning court.
As a prince without an official position, Xie Jingtan was not qualified to attend court. However, this didn’t dampen his obsession with Ziwei Palace.
Though his body wasn’t present in the hall, his heart certainly was.
Like the court officials who rose before dawn to prepare for court, Xie Jingtan woke early to wash and dress meticulously. While fifth-rank and higher officials jostled for their place in line at the palace gates, Xie Jingtan was in his private garden, eyes closed as he practiced a full routine of Luohan Boxing.
After completing the set, his body and spirit felt reinvigorated.
A maid handed him a towel to wipe his sweat as he stood to catch his breath.
Only after making his subordinates wait for an hour—leaving their legs sore and stiff—did he finally permit them to approach and report.
“Speak. What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until after dawn?” Xie Jingtan asked casually, dabbing his face with the towel.
One of his subordinates bowed deeply before responding. “Your Highness, our spies in the capital have made an interesting discovery.”
“Oh?” Xie Jingtan raised an eyebrow, his tone now tinged with curiosity.
“Yesterday, after his duties ended, the Prince Langya visited the residence of Li Zhi, the Vice-Chief of the Palace Administration Bureau. He stayed the entire night and only left at the midnight. This morning, the two entered the palace separately—Prince Langya through Chunyu Gate, and Li Zhi through Cheng’an Gate.”
“This is a serious claim. Are you certain it’s true?” Xie Jingtan asked, his expression unreadable.
“It is absolutely true, Your Highness.”
“It’s absolutely true. Our men witnessed it with their own eyes.”
“How interesting… very interesting…” Xie Jingtan couldn’t hide the excitement in his expression. He waved his subordinate away and summoned a maid to help him prepare a bath and a change of clothes.
After dressing in fresh, clean attire, Xie Jingtan ordered an invitation to be sent to the Li residence in Hulu Alley, addressed specifically to Xie Lanxu. The note extended an invitation for a private meeting at his estate.
—
By evening, when the officials returned home from court, Xie Jingtan’s guest had arrived.
“Prince Langya, you seem remarkably calm,” Xie Jingtan remarked with a grin, motioning for a maid to serve them two cups of tea.
“If you, like me, had no parents to rely on and were left with no one to complain to about those who scheme in the shadows,” Xie Lanxu said politely, “you, too, would find no reason to panic in such situations.”
The jab about “scheming in the shadows” didn’t faze Xie Jingtan. He chuckled. “Ah, dear nephew, it seems you’ve forgotten that your imperial grandfather is still alive and well.”
“My imperial grandfather may live, but I am of little consequence. How dare I bother His Majesty with such a trifling matter?” Xie Lanxu replied evenly. “However, if my dear uncle would be so kind as to request an imperial decree for my marriage, it would certainly save me a great deal of trouble.”
Xie Jingtan’s expression soured slightly. He hadn’t elicited the reaction he was hoping for. Was Xie Lanxu truly so naive, or was he simply playing the fool?
“Surely you know, Prince Langya, that this Li Zhi you’re so fond of was once groomed by Li Qiaonian, the former Grand Chancellor, to be presented as a pawn for our father. His Majesty was well aware of this arrangement. Had Li Qiaonian’s treachery not been exposed, Li Zhi might very well have been your imperial grandmother by now,” Xie Jingtan said with a sly smile.
“Uncle’s argument is flawed,” Xie Lanxu countered with a polite smile. “If we’re speaking in hypotheticals, then if the Virtuous Consort had not fallen into the lake and been rescued by His Majesty, she would have been nothing more than a drowned ghost. By that logic, you wouldn’t be sitting here discussing hypotheticals with me now, would you?”
Xie Lanxu’s response left Xie Jingtan momentarily baffled.
It sounded logical at first, but upon closer inspection, it seemed to make no sense. And yet, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly where the flaw lay.
Realizing he’d been outmaneuvered in their verbal sparring, Xie Jingtan quickly changed the topic.
“Tell me, my dear nephew, would a man as upright as yourself ever lower his pride and pledge allegiance elsewhere in pursuit of the truth behind your father’s treason case?”
Xie Lanxu’s face remained calm, but his eyes sharpened, his gaze focusing intently.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you not curious how the letter accusing the Crown Prince and the Li family of collusion ended up on the Emperor’s desk?”
“…Do you know?” Xie Lanxu asked, his voice steady but his eyes unyielding as they bore into Xie Jingtan.
“It’s often said that the letter mysteriously appeared in Ziwei Palace without anyone noticing. But in truth,” Xie Jingtan said with a sly smile, “it was first discovered inside the mouth of a stone dragon head in the palace. During a rainstorm, one dragon out of a thousand failed to release water, and a servant investigating the blockage found an oil-paper-wrapped letter hidden within.”
Xie Jingtan leaned back, sipping his tea leisurely. “Although the Emperor has yet to uncover the letter’s author, I have acquired crucial evidence. The question is—do you want to know?”
“Why bother asking when you already know the answer?” Xie Lanxu replied.
“I’ve located someone who saw the letter firsthand. There aren’t many people who can move freely in the palace. With this person, it would be effortless for you to confirm the truth,” Xie Jingtan said. “All I ask is that you abandon your current position and serve me. If you agree, I will give you this person’s identity.”
“This is no trivial matter,” Xie Lanxu said after a long pause. “How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?”
“You know as well as I do the gravity of this matter. How could I dare lie to you?” Xie Jingtan replied smoothly. “I’ve said all I need to say. How you choose to proceed is up to you. I hope you will carefully consider your decision.”
The two cups of Dragon Well tea on the table had gone cold. Its fine aroma lingered in the air, but neither man paid it any attention.
After a long silence, Xie Lanxu finally said, “Let me think about it.”
Xie Jingtan smiled, confident and triumphant. “Of course.”
He believed he had finally hooked the slippery eel that was Xie Lanxu.
–
After Xie Lanxu left, Qian Yiwang emerged from the adjacent room where he had been eavesdropping through a small peephole.
“Your Highness, your skill in manipulating Xie Lanxu with just a few words is truly impressive. I pale in comparison,” Qian Yiwang said with a fawning smile.
“A mere greenhorn,” Xie Jingtan scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. “The moment he hears anything about the deposed Crown Prince, he loses all composure. Far too young and inexperienced.”
“Your Highness, while Xie Lanxu may appear uninvolved in courtly affairs, he’s a cunning and unpredictable individual. I urge caution in dealing with him,” Qian Yiwang advised.
“No matter. I never intended to truly rely on him,” Xie Jingtan said with a smirk. “As long as he doesn’t side with my ninth brother, he can do as he pleases. For now, I’ve thrown him some bait to keep him occupied. Once my ninth brother is dealt with, I’ll discard that ‘dear nephew’ without hesitation.”
Qian Yiwang offered a few more flattering words. A man of letters praising another always seemed effortless and natural, leaving the listener feeling both satisfied and undeserving of the compliments.
Xie Jingtan, his smile widening, radiated the confidence of someone firmly in control.
“Your Highness,” Qian Yiwang said after a moment, his tone growing serious, “is the story you told about the letter genuine?”
“Of course,” Xie Jingtan replied without hesitation.
“And the source of your information—is it reliable?”
“Absolutely reliable,” Xie Jingtan said confidently. “But I can’t reveal their identity just yet. It’s not a matter of trust—it’s for your safety. After all, this concerns a royal scandal. The fewer people who know, the better.”
Qian Yiwang smiled faintly, his expression smooth and unreadable.
“…I am deeply grateful for Your Highness’s consideration,” he said.
