“The one who pushed me into the pond wasn’t Her Highness—it was His Majesty,” Qi Jingqing said again into the silence.
Qi Zhen finally came to his senses. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Jingqing, this isn’t the time for nonsense,” Song Lian pleaded with a choked voice.
Qi Jingqing remained calm. “It’s the truth.”
“You didn’t even turn around back then. How could you know the emperor pushed you?” Qi Zhen said irritably.
Qi Jingqing looked at him steadily. “The reflection.”
Qi Zhen froze, and Qi Jingren immediately understood. “The pond’s reflection? Right—you were crouching by the water. It’s not strange that you saw who pushed you through the surface.”
“The one who pushed me was never Her Highness.” Qi Jingqing could feel Feng Lezhen’s gaze on his face, yet he didn’t dare meet her eyes.
But Qi Zhen still didn’t believe it. After muttering several “impossible”s, he pointed at Feng Lezhen. “You were close with her at the time. If it really was the emperor, even if the late emperor didn’t want a rift between us and the crown prince, and made her take the blame, with your temperament, once you woke up you would’ve defended her. Why did you never say anything—only that you fell in?”
“If I had said the emperor did it, would Father have let it go?” Qi Jingqing asked.
Qi Zhen choked.
“He may have been the late emperor’s only son, but that didn’t mean the throne had to be his. Even if Father had spared him out of respect for the late emperor, I’m afraid later you still wouldn’t have allowed him to ascend the throne peacefully. What then? Would you support Qing Wang or secretly sabotage everything?” Qi Jingqing gave a bitter smile. “Throughout history, kings have always feared powerful lords with military strength. You never cared about court politics, but once you got involved in factional disputes, no matter who became emperor, you would’ve been their first target.”
Qi Zhen stared at him, clearly shaken but still unwilling to believe. “No, no… You mean to say I’ve hated the wrong person all these years? That’s impossible—how could I have…”
“Qi Jingqing’s plan wasn’t even complete, yet the emperor suddenly rescinded the decree. Doesn’t the Marquis find that odd?” Feng Lezhen interrupted coldly.
Qi Zhen looked up sharply.
Feng Lezhen met his gaze and said slowly, “It’s because I had Jingren use your private seal to send him a letter. In your name. The letter described what happened back then.”
That old matter had long since become a muddled account with no proof. Yet even without evidence, those slandered knew they were slandered, and the real culprit knew they were guilty. What she hadn’t expected was that the one who had been pushed also knew the truth all along.
“You—why didn’t you ever mention this before…” Qi Jingren asked hesitantly.
Feng Lezhen shot her a glance. “While the late emperor was alive, I couldn’t say it. After he died, no one would’ve believed me anyway. So if no one would believe it, why should I say it? If not for Feng Ji panicking and rescinding the decree himself today, even with Qi Jingqing testifying, wouldn’t your whole family still think I was just lying?”
Qi Jingren moved her lips but said nothing.
Song Lian sat limply on the ground, staring blankly at the floor. Qi Zhen’s face was ashen, unable to recover for a long while.
The drama of the day was almost over. Feng Lezhen adjusted her robes and turned to leave.
“I believe in Your Highness,” Qi Jingren suddenly said.
Feng Lezhen paused and came to a halt again.
“If Your Highness had spoken of this earlier, others might not have believed it, but I definitely would have,” Qi Jingren said, looking at her back. “Because the Feng Lezhen I’ve known since childhood—though annoying—has always been someone with principles, too proud to lie or make excuses.”
Feng Lezhen’s lips curved slightly, but she said nothing and walked away.
Qi Zhen and Song Lian remained silent, still unable to recover from the revelations just now. Their hatred for the Eldest Princess had lasted over ten years. Now they were suddenly told they had hated the wrong person. Besides finding it absurd, they also felt a deep sense of disorientation, as if their feet no longer touched the ground.
When Feng Lezhen returned home, dawn was breaking. The internal upheaval had ended quietly, and by the time the sun came out, it was just another ordinary day.
“Your Highness, you should rest,” Ah Ye softly urged.
Feng Lezhen leaned wearily in her chair. “No rush.”
She seemed to be waiting for someone. Ah Ye lowered her gaze and waited with her.
They didn’t wait long before the person Feng Lezhen was expecting arrived.
“Your Highness.” It had only been half an hour since they last met, but he already looked more worn. After taking off his heavy cloak, he stood thin and frail at the door, as if a gust of wind might blow him away.
Feng Lezhen glanced at Ah Ye, who immediately left and closed the door behind her.
With the wind shut out, Qi Jingqing seemed to finally come back to himself. After a moment of silence, he walked over and sat across from her. “Your Highness was waiting for me.”
“Shizi came all this way—do you have something to say to this princess?” Feng Lezhen replied with a question.
Qi Jingqing was silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “When I fell into the water and was unconscious for a long time, the first thing I heard after waking was that you had been kneeling outside.”
“You must’ve been surprised that even though it was Feng Ji who pushed you, I was the one who took the blame,” Feng Lezhen continued.
Qi Jingqing lowered his gaze. Red blood vessels traced faintly across his eyelids. “I was surprised, but quickly understood. Your Highness is not someone who would suffer injustice willingly. If you accepted it, someone must have persuaded you. And in this world, only the late emperor could have done that.”
“So you just let the lie continue?” Feng Lezhen asked.
Qi Jingqing replied, “I never went along with the lie.”
Feng Lezhen paused. Then she remembered—every time he brought up the incident, he had always said he fell in by accident. He had never accused her. But no one believed him, and it only caused more trouble for her. So, over time, he stopped mentioning it. Still, whenever he did speak of it, his story remained the same.
“Why are you willing to tell the truth now?” she asked.
Qi Jingqing gave a bitter smile. “I thought I’d never say it in this lifetime. But who would’ve thought Jingren would side with Your Highness and be determined to tear open the heavens? Since that’s the case, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”
Back then, he had kept silent for the sake of peace in Yingguan and the Qi family. But now that Jingren was ready to lead the Qi family into chaos, what reason did he have to keep hiding?
Since they had already made their decision—why not send them off, rising on the wind?
The room fell silent. Only after a long time did Feng Lezhen speak. “So this is one of the two things you said you were hiding from me?”
“Yes,” Qi Jingqing answered.
Feng Lezhen’s lips curved upward briefly, then quickly settled.
After a pause, she said, “Got it.”
It seemed there was nothing more to say. Qi Jingqing stood slowly, shakily, and took a few steps toward her. Feng Lezhen watched him quietly, wondering what he was doing—until, in the next moment, he knelt down, supporting himself on one knee.
Feng Lezhen’s eyelids twitched and she moved to help him up. “What are you doing—”
“Your Highness.” Qi Jingqing grabbed her hand and looked up into her eyes. “Do you hate me?”
He knelt at her side, in a posture that seemed both like reverence and submission. Feng Lezhen stared at his elegant features, feeling a strange tightness in her throat.
“If I had spoken the truth back then…”
“Then, just as you guessed before, the Marquis would have resented Feng Ji and refused to let him ascend the throne. Given how he treats Jingren, we know he’s old-fashioned. If he won’t even support his own daughter, he certainly wouldn’t have supported me. He might’ve allied with other branches of the royal family and thrown the entire country into chaos,” Feng Lezhen interrupted him. “So, your silence back then was the right choice.”
“I caused Your Highness to suffer injustice for over a decade,” Qi Jingqing said hoarsely.
Feng Lezhen gave a soundless smile. “This injustice wasn’t suffered for nothing. The late emperor, out of guilt, gave me an elite guard and granted me the right to travel freely throughout the empire. Now, among the fifty-three cities of Great Qian, over half have my people stationed. The reason I can summon aid with one word today—all stems from what happened back then.”
“Qi Jingqing, I know what you’re thinking. But once power and interests are involved, things can’t be viewed so simply. Even taking ten thousand steps back—it was I who volunteered to take the blame, turning retreat into advance, trading small for great. What does that have to do with you?”
After speaking, she went silent. Then, with slender fingers, she gently touched his face.
“Because of that incident, the late emperor and Feng Ji found peace of mind, the Marquis gained trust and lost suspicion, and I got the power I wanted. Everyone benefited—except you. You, who could never live a normal life because of it, have already suffered enough. So why burden yourself with guilt?”
Qi Jingqing’s hand, which had been resting on her knee, clenched tightly, then slowly loosened. After a long while, the tension in his shoulders finally eased.
Feng Lezhen knew then—he had come to terms with it.
Of course. He was that intelligent. Naturally, he understood exactly what she meant.
“Go home and don’t think about anything. Get some proper sleep. This matter is over now, alright?” Feng Lezhen said as she helped him up.
Qi Jingqing pressed his lips together, as if a little embarrassed by his earlier moment of weakness, and naturally agreed to whatever she said.
“Your Highness should rest early as well,” he said.
Feng Lezhen replied, “Alright.”
“Jingren is already determined to follow you… I’ll persuade Father and Mother,” Qi Jingqing added.
This time, Feng Lezhen smiled sincerely. “Good.”
Qi Jingqing looked at her smiling eyes, as if he still had something to say, but after hesitating for a long time, he gave up.
Feng Lezhen watched him slowly turn and leave, leaning on his cane. Just as he was about to reach the door, she suddenly grew curious and asked, “Back then, if I hadn’t confessed, what would you have done?”
Qi Jingqing stopped in his tracks and looked down at the cracks in the floor tiles. “I would have said the same thing—Your Highness didn’t push me. I fell because I was careless.”
“Sounds like whether I admitted it or not, the outcome wouldn’t have changed much,” Feng Lezhen chuckled softly.
“Of course it would have,” Qi Jingqing turned back to look at her. “Your Highness is clever, and I’m not stupid either. Given time, we would have made them believe in your innocence.”
Feng Lezhen paused slightly, then let out a faint laugh. “True enough.”
Even long after Qi Jingqing had left, Feng Lezhen’s mind lingered on those words. She sat alone for a long time, then calmly looked out the window toward the sky.
Yes, she was clever, and Qi Jingqing wasn’t stupid. If they had worked together, they might have convinced everyone she was innocent. But unfortunately, someone had been too eager to protect their only son, and the only way to bring the matter to a swift conclusion had been to force her to confess.
“Your Highness? Your Highness?”
Feng Lezhen returned to her senses. When she looked up, she met the calm eyes of Chen Jinan.
Gathering herself, she asked, “Why are you here?”
“Miss Ah Ye said you were feeling down. I came to check on you,” Chen Jinan replied with concern.
Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment, then reached out a hand. Chen Jinan hesitated, stepped forward, but before he could grasp her hand, she suddenly embraced him. His back stiffened, and for a moment he didn’t know where to place his hands. After a long pause, he finally rested them lightly on her back.
“It’s alright, Your Highness,” he said softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll carry it for you.”
The corners of Feng Lezhen’s lips curved up silently. After holding on for a while, she finally felt some strength return and let go of him. “I’m sleepy.”
“Then get some rest,” Chen Jinan said.
Feng Lezhen thought for a moment. “But I’m a little hungry.”
“Then eat before sleeping. I’ll inform the kitchen,” Chen Jinan said, and hurried off.
“Why are you coming out?” Ah Ye’s voice drifted in from outside.
Then Chen Jinan’s voice: “Her Highness said she’s hungry.”
“Oh, oh, then hurry and prepare food. We can’t let Her Highness go hungry.”
“Make it something light, so she won’t feel sick when she rests.”
“But not too light—Her Highness doesn’t like food that’s too bland.”
Their voices trailed off into the distance, chatting back and forth. Listening to them fade away, Feng Lezhen suddenly felt a wave of lightness in her heart.
In this world, people who go through worldly affairs are always full of countless considerations, thinking over and over, looking forward and backward, needing to understand everything clearly. But there are always exceptions—those who cast aside all thought, who take her worries as their own, take her joys as theirs, hesitate not at all, and never harbor a second thought.
Thinking that, it didn’t seem like the heavens had treated her too poorly.
Though the internal chaos of the Marquis’s household had been quelled, the power struggles outside had only just begun. The common folk continued with their lives, still looking forward to the festivals as they always had, unaware that some things had already undergone earth-shattering change.
As the first rays of dawn pierced the sky in the eighth year of Chenyuan, Feng Lezhen spent her third New Year in Yingguan. Counting the years, she was now twenty-four.
The past few years in Yingguan had gone by in a blur. Everything about the capital seemed to have grown distant, but the ever-growing stack of official documents on her desk and the secret letters hidden in the drawer beneath it all reminded her: one day, she would return to the capital—the city that symbolized imperial power.
Qi Jingren had spent several months proving her resolve and capability to Qi Zhen, and Qi Zhen, in turn, had spent that same amount of time slowly realizing—he truly was getting old.
“To have a daughter like you—I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse,” Qi Zhen said. In just a few months, he looked as if he had aged several years; even his voice was faint and tired.
Qi Jingren’s expression remained calm. “Of course it’s a blessing.”
“Then let’s wait and see,” Qi Zhen sneered. “I hope in the end you won’t meet the fate of a rabbit slaughtered after the hunt.”
“The Art of War says to employ people without suspicion. As the one being employed, the same logic applies,” Qi Jingren replied coolly.
Qi Zhen scoffed and said nothing more.
At that moment, the balance between father and daughter finally tipped. The 30,000 troops of the Qi family now followed the banner of Feng Lezhen.
Shen Suinian was the first to hear the news. Upon learning of it, he sat alone in the courtyard all night, finally letting out a resigned sigh—
So be it. If she truly was the one destined by fate, then he would follow fate. There was no harm in that.
“Brother.”
Shen Suinian paused and, turning around, instinctively hid the letter behind his back when he saw who it was. “What is it?”
“I heard you didn’t return to your room all night. I came to check on you,” Shen Suifeng said gently, as if he hadn’t noticed the motion at all.
Shen Suinian nodded. Just as he was about to speak, he heard Suifeng ask, “Are you going to Yingguan?”
Shen Suinian froze. “I’m not—”
“Take me along. I should go check the shizi’s pulse anyway,” Shen Suifeng interrupted.
