Empress Feng wasn’t practicing calligraphy this time. She was standing in the courtyard, looking into the large stone vat where she kept her goldfish.
The water in the vat was crystal clear, with coin-sized lotus leaves sprouting from split lotus seeds lining the bottom. Various types of goldfish were swimming leisurely through the water.
She scattered a handful of fish food, and one goldfish leapt up toward the sky and snatched up all the food in an instant. She couldn’t help but chuckle, then handed the rest of the fish food to a nearby maid. Turning to look at Xiao Yunting, she said, “You’re here?”
Xiao Yunting nodded.
“Then you must already know what happened today?” Empress Feng got straight to the point, hiding nothing. “You know what kind of influence Li Changqing had on your imperial grandfather. He believes what Li says, so…”
“But you, Royal Grandmother,” Xiao Yunting interrupted calmly, “you said it yourself—my imperial grandfather believes him. That means you don’t, do you?”
He didn’t conceal his attitude at all. “Royal Grandmother, the Feng family colluding with Li Changqing is digging their own grave!”
Empress Feng was stunned.
She hadn’t expected such a reaction from Xiao Yunting.
Not that she was surprised by his stance on Li Changqing—after all, years ago Li had used the same trick to bring down the Crown Prince, making him unable to raise his head ever since.
What shocked her was that Xiao Yunting immediately assumed Li Changqing had been acting under the Feng family’s orders.
She frowned. “He used to belong to Duke Chu’s household. How could the Feng family be giving him orders?”
“Then are you saying Feng Caiwei really has a phoenix destiny?” Xiao Yunting gave a scornful laugh. “Royal Grandmother, do you think I believe that?”
Empress Feng was silent for a moment before replying, “But your Royal grandfather believes it. That’s all that matters.”
She rubbed her temples and sighed. “If Caiwei has a phoenix fate and you marry her, isn’t that a good thing for you?”
“No. If I can’t marry the one I love, what’s so good about that?” Xiao Yunting said coldly. “And using such disgusting methods? Royal Grandmother, you know my nature. I will never marry Feng Caiwei. If anyone forces me, I’ll break her neck myself and see if a corpse can still become an empress.”
……
Empress Feng hadn’t realized his loathing for Feng Caiwei ran so deep. The advice she’d prepared had to be swallowed back.
She knew very well that Xiao Yunting was a man who always meant what he said.
But even so, she couldn’t help but say softly, “Even so, you still won’t be able to marry Qi Yuan. Yunting, I won’t force you, but… your Royal grandfather believes Li Changqing completely. You absolutely must not bring this up again!”
Xiao Yunting sneered. “Royal Grandmother, if we keep someone like Li Changqing around, who knows when he’ll declare me a doomed short-lived star?”
Empress Feng had not expected him to be so forceful. For a moment, she didn’t even know how to respond.
Xiao Yunting, meanwhile, didn’t bother explaining himself. He left to request an audience with Emperor Yongchang in Taiji Hall.
Empress Feng stood dazed for a moment, then turned to her maid and asked quietly, “That Qi Yuan… what kind of girl is she really? I’m quite curious now.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Summer skies changed like a stepmother’s face—clear one moment, storming the next.
Qi Yuan stood calmly in an alley in the western part of the city, her expression cold as she watched the temple grow quiet after nightfall.
Inside, a ragged Taoist priest was closing the door and hurrying beneath the eaves.
He shook the water from his head, swore irritably, and kicked a stone stool. “D*mn it, all those herbs I left out to dry—ruined!”
But still, he turned and went into the main hall, reaching for a broom.
The temple had been littered with offerings and trash all day. If it wasn’t cleaned, the worshippers would complain.
His hand reached toward the broom leaning against the wall. As his eyes narrowed at the puddles on the floor, he suddenly lunged left and grabbed at a piece of silk fabric—
But he grabbed nothing.
Instead, someone caught his arm and yanked him forcefully into a storage room filled with incense, candles, and joss paper.
A master!
He realized it instantly—and couldn’t help but feel a jolt of fear.
This Huang Daxian Temple had stood for over a century. He had taken the place of the previous priest and hidden his identity flawlessly for years. No one should’ve known who he really was.
How had such a skilled person tracked him down?
Had His Highness’s side found out?!
His heart was pounding, but his reactions were quick. As soon as he was dragged inside, he pushed off the floor with his waist and launched himself at the attacker.
But the other person was even faster. As he leapt, they sprang backward, kicked off the wall, and flipped mid-air to dive toward him.
So fast!
He ducked reflexively—but as he rose again, there was already a sword at his throat.
He immediately stopped and raised his hands above his head. “You…”
Qi Yuan sneered. “No need to pretend. I’m one of the thousand souls you helped slaughter on Mount Mao. I’ve come for revenge.”
Daoist Qiu felt a chill crawl up his spine and shoot straight to the top of his head.
What did she just say?!
A vengeful spirit?
The Mount Mao incident… that had been years ago! How could anyone still be chasing it?!
He immediately denied it: “Young lady, you must be mistaken. I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Qiu Chuying,” Qi Yuan cut him off coldly, “you know exactly what I’m talking about. You and I both know. Heaven sees all—I’m here to settle the score.”
Qiu Chuying secretly reached for a pigeon whistle to send out a message.
He didn’t know exactly who she was, but it was obvious she had come with deadly intent.
But before he could even bring the whistle to his lips, Qi Yuan kicked it out of his hand, then chopped him hard across the neck.
Qiu Chuying collapsed, unconscious.
Thunder rumbled overhead. A torrential downpour began in an instant.
Qi Yuan dragged him onto the rooftop, then shoved him onto the tiles.
Lightning danced in the sky, flashing again and again.
The Huang Daxian Temple in the western city had already been struck by lightning several times in the past.
Qi Yuan tilted her head, gazing coldly at the unconscious Qiu Chuying lying on the rain-slick roof.
He stirred slightly, his neck throbbing with pain. As he slowly regained consciousness, a thunderclap exploded above—and a blinding white flash struck in front of him.
He let out a blood-curdling scream.
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