"Thank you, Your Highness," Imperial Tutor Ye leaned back on the bed, signaling a servant to fetch a stool for the Prince. Shangguan Lin sat down, and after a cup of tea was served, Imperial Tutor Ye waved his attendants away.
"May I know why Your Highness has come to the Ye residence today?"
Shangguan Lin took a sip of tea. In that moment, he suddenly felt he could say nothing, for there was no one he could trust.
If this fake emperor remained undiscovered, and the Empress Dowager, the Imperial Tutor, and many ministers in the court—who knew which faction that emperor belonged to—then revealing anything would be like beating the grass to startle the snake.
"I heard that Minister Ye has not yet fully recovered. I happened to be passing by the Ye residence, so I came to visit Minister Ye."
"I am honored by Your Highness's concern."
As Imperial Tutor Ye replied, he pondered. He and Prince Lin had no significant prior dealings, and his visit today was rather peculiar. Thus, he observed Shangguan Lin without betraying any emotion.
Shangguan Lin felt two gazes fixed upon him. Feigning ignorance, he merely drank his tea, surveyed the bedroom, and then, as if nothing was amiss, made some irrelevant small talk.
He advised Imperial Tutor Ye to rest well, stating that the court could not do without him, and finally, he rose to take his leave.
Upon leaving the Ye residence, he wished he could slap himself. His actions were utterly thoughtless; how could he not have considered one crucial detail?
The fake emperor bore a strong resemblance to the Empress Dowager. What did this signify?
He was also the Empress Dowager's son. However, the Emperor had only two sons, himself and the Crown Prince. This implied that the other person was the Empress Dowager's illegitimate child.
And in this vast court, the one person connected to the Empress Dowager was precisely this Imperial Tutor Ye. Perhaps the fake emperor was Imperial Tutor Ye's child. Hadn't his visit just exposed his own identity?
He could only hope that Imperial Tutor Ye would not overthink things.
As Shangguan Lin mounted his horse to return to his mansion, in the bedroom of the Ye residence, Ye Qing Tian grew increasingly uneasy. Prince Lin had clearly wanted to say something earlier, his eyes flickering, his words halting – it was obvious he had something on his mind.
Ye Qing Tian's heart skipped a beat. He immediately struggled to rise, penned a secret letter, and dispatched it to Shangguan Yao. The letter quickly reached Shangguan Yao, whose expression turned somber and unfixed, his eyes cold and piercing. He slowly contemplated, and then a slow smile spread across his face.
However, that smile was sinister and ferocious.
The medical clinic on Fengxiang Street was closed for business today. A sign hung high on the door reading 'Closed'.
The reason for the closure was that Young Master Leng Yue was in a foul mood. Those who came for treatment could only sigh and leave, as no one dared to provoke him. Everyone knew that Young Master Leng Yue had a peculiar disposition; if he were angered, not only would he refuse to treat them, but they would also face unpleasant consequences.
In the small pavilion, someone was playing the zither.
A rendition of "High Mountains and Flowing Water" was played with exquisite skill and fluidity, like a waterfall cascading from the heavens, its pearls and spray tumbling down, flowing into the stream below.
A gentle breeze blew through the windows. Three thousand strands of dark hair were tied high, fluttering in the wind.
A face as fair as jade was touched with coldness. Long eyelashes cast shadows beneath her eyelids, making her complexion appear even darker.
Her slender body swayed gently, seemingly reveling in the music. In truth, the melody conveyed that she was not in a good mood, as if troubled by something.
Wanwan stood not far away, listening quietly. When the piece concluded, she respectfully offered a white cotton cloth.
"Mistress, what troubles you today?"
Indeed, Mistress had gone out earlier and returned in anger, ordering the clinic closed and then retreating to the small pavilion to play the zither.
Yun Xiao wiped the sweat from her face with the white cotton cloth, then lowered her head to wipe her fingers. Her movements were as graceful as flowing water, natural and uninhibited, showing no outward sign of distress. However, the subtle chill radiating from her person was impossible to ignore.
Her clear, cool voice resonated, "I heard that Prime Minister Sima was burned to death in his residence last night."
So, Mistress was upset about this matter. Wanwan suddenly understood, and a deep sense of regret filled her heart.
Sima Qingyun had been a good official. It was a pity he was burned to death by wicked individuals. Good people never lived long, while evil people enjoyed longevity. Thinking of the person in the palace, Wanwan felt a surge of indignation.
"I don't know who did this wicked deed. It's truly detestable; they deserve to go to hell. If they had killed a villain, I would have honored them as a hero, but what wrong did Prime Minister Sima commit?"
Wanwan crossed her arms, grumbling as she looked at her Mistress. She noticed her Mistress's expression growing increasingly grim and suddenly had an epiphany. Could it be?
"Mistress, could it be that the people from the Divine Dragon Palace were responsible?"
This was the reason for Mistress's displeasure, Wanwan realized. She dared not curse anymore. Great Hero Murong Chong was someone Mistress cared for.
Yun Xiao's bad mood that morning stemmed from her suspicion that Murong was behind it, as she could not think of anyone else who would act against Sima Qingyun.
If this matter was indeed Murong's doing, he was truly too cruel. While they might target the Empress Dowager and the Emperor in the palace, they should at least not harm innocent people.
"Leave me. Let me have some peace."
Yun Xiao waved her hand, chasing the noisy Wanwan away. She sat alone in the room, gazing out the window of the small pavilion at the drifting clouds. The clouds, ever-changing, seemed to reflect her thoughts.
At that moment, the clouds appeared to transform into Murong's likeness, infuriating her. She pointed a finger at the cloud.
"Murong, if I discover you did this, it's best you pretend not to know me. I will disfigure you so badly that you won't recognize your parents."
She found it amusing, then retracted her finger. Considering Murong's character, she felt it unlikely. But who could have committed such a cruel act?
She wrestled with this thought all morning, played a few melodies, and only then found some peace.
In the afternoon, an uninvited guest arrived at the shop. Yun Xiao leaned against the window frame, watching clearly. She did not move. The person, clad in a long purple robe, was like an immortal descending from the heavens, or perhaps the moon amidst clouds. From afar, one knew who he was.
It was the son of the Minister of War, Lord Ye Si Yuan, Ye Wu Yun. She wondered why he would visit at this time.
Yun Xiao ignored him. When she was in a bad mood, she generally ignored people and had no desire to save or treat the sick.
Furthermore, she had no good feelings towards Ye Wu Yun. He was too beautiful, yet possessed an aloofness that kept people at a distance. If he was so proud, why mingle with society? He should go live in the mountains and forests. No one owed him anything, and nothing was due to him. Who was he putting on such a sour face for?
Yun Xiao mentally scoffed, then continued to gaze at the swirling clouds in the sky.
Below the small pavilion, Wanwan hurried over and asked cautiously, "Mistress, Young Master Ye is here. Does Mistress wish to see him?"
"Tell him to scram. I despise things that are too beautiful."
Yun Xiao rolled her eyes and spoke coldly. Her voice, neither too loud nor too soft, carried outwards. With Ye Wu Yun's cultivation, he surely heard her.