Finally, he spoke again, but the topic veered in another direction: "The Imperial Clan Court has already reached a conclusion on Liu Yiyi's case."
Xin Jiuwei raised her eyes and looked at him. This was what she cared about.
"The evidence against the Crown Princess is conclusive. Considering it's her first offense and that she was misled," Xiao Xun's tone was calm and even, as if he were stating a trivial matter unrelated to himself, "her title is stripped, 30% of her family fortune is confiscated, and for three generations, no woman from the Liu family will be allowed to participate in the imperial concubine selection, and no man will be allowed to hold office. Liu Yiyi herself will be confined to the Pingyang Marquis's family temple for life, spending her remaining days in solitude with only the light of a lamp and the presence of Buddha."
Lifelong confinement to the palace, a life of solitary meditation and Buddhist practice. For a once arrogant and domineering noblewoman who dreamed of marrying into a high-ranking family, this was more cruel than death. Xin Jiuwei felt no pleasure, only a cold indifference. This was the fate Liu Yiyi deserved, and also Xiao Xun's explanation to all parties. He punished the murderer, left room for maneuver (without implicating the entire Pingyang Marquis's mansion), and used this opportunity to send a warning to Xiao Zhuo, who was behind Liu Yiyi.
"Your Highness's handling of the matter was fair," Xin Jiuwei said calmly.
"As for Yongjia," Xiao Xun continued, a hint of coldness in his voice, "her confinement will be extended until after the New Year. She will be fined one year's salary and forced to copy 'Admonitions for Women' and 'Rules for Women' one hundred times." This punishment, seemingly mild, was nothing short of torture for the spoiled Princess Yongjia, a complete trampling of her dignity. At the same time, extending the confinement until after the New Year also gave the Empress and Xiao Zhuo time to mediate and avoid a complete breakdown in relations.
Xin Jiuwei understood. Every step Xiao Xun took was meticulously calculated and weighed. The humiliation and harm she, as the "future princess consort," suffered were merely one of the bargaining chips on his chessboard to gain greater benefits.
"Thank you, Your Highness, for upholding justice for Jiuwei," she said again, her tone still calm and composed.
Looking at her calm acceptance of everything, as if it were none of her business, Xiao Xun felt a strange sense of irritation. He would rather see her fiercely retort like at the palace banquet than see her calmness now, as if she were wearing a perfect mask. This calmness was like an invisible wall, shutting him out.
He remained silent for a moment, then suddenly took something out of his sleeve and placed it on the small rosewood table between the two of them.
It was a brand new, moon-white brocade cloak, exactly the same as the one Xin Jiuwei had burned before. The collar and edges were embroidered with delicate lotus scroll patterns in silver thread, which shimmered softly in the light.
Xin Jiuwei's gaze fell on the cloak, her pupils contracting almost imperceptibly. The resolute scene of burning the cloak flashed through her mind. What did he mean by this? Was he reminding her of the past humiliation? Or… a form of disguised "compensation"?
"It's getting cold." Xiao Xun's voice rang out, still deep, but seemingly less cold and hard than usual, with a hint of... stiff gentleness? "Put this on."
There was no explanation, no extra words. Just the words, "It's getting cold," and a commanding "Put it on."
Xin Jiuwei looked at the brand-new cloak, then glanced at Xiao Xun. He sat there upright, his gaze not on her, but fixed on a withered tree in the courtyard outside the hall. His profile was taut, his thin lips pressed tightly together. His posture carried a deliberately maintained indifference, yet it also revealed an... indescribable awkwardness.
An extremely complex feeling welled up in Xin Jiuwei's heart. Anger? Humiliation? Absurdity? Or... a faint touch of emotion that even she herself despised? She suddenly remembered the old lady of the Marquis of Zhongyong's words, "not entirely cold-hearted."
She remained silent, motionless. Time seemed to stand still between them.
Xiao Xun seemed to realize the abruptness and inappropriateness of his action. His fingers, resting on his knees, curled slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He stood up, no longer looking at the cloak or Xin Jiuwei, his voice returning to its usual cold hardness: "Take good care of yourself." With that, he strode away, his retreating figure carrying a hint of barely perceptible haste.
The figure in black disappeared through the doorway. Only Xin Jiuwei remained in the hall, along with the moon-white cloak lying quietly on the small table.
Xin Jiuwei's gaze lingered on the cloak. Its soft, moon-white color now felt like a cold flame, burning her eyes. She slowly reached out, her fingertips touching the cool, smooth brocade. The texture was delicate, like the finest jade.
This time, she didn't feel the humiliation and disgust she had felt before. An indescribable weariness and confusion washed over her. What was Xiao Xun thinking? What was this? A slap followed by a sweet treat? Or, beyond the contract, beneath that cold desire for control, a clumsy attempt at appeasement that even he himself hadn't noticed?
She picked up the cloak. It was light, yet heavy. In the end, she didn't put it on, but carefully folded it and placed it on a chair beside her. Like placing a hot, unwieldy puzzle on a shelf.
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