Xiao Xun's steps suddenly stopped.
Those two words—"Qi Huaiyu"—were like poisoned needles tempered with ice, piercing the deathly silence and breaking through Xiao Xun's cold, hard shell. With his back to Xin Jiuwei, his tall figure froze for a moment in the dim candlelight, like a black iron sculpture that had suddenly cooled.
Xin Jiuwei was also stunned. The terror from the nightmare hadn't completely dissipated, and the name that had slipped out startled her even more. How could she... how could she have mentioned Qi Huaiyu in front of him?
That was the deepest, most painful, and most unseen festering sore in her heart! She immediately shut her mouth, her nails digging fiercely into her palms, using the pain to force herself to stay awake and forcefully suppress her surging emotions. Regret and vigilance instantly overwhelmed her brief vulnerability.
A more suffocating silence fell over the hall.
The crackling of the charcoal fire only served to accentuate the heavy, leaden silence.
After a long while, Xiao Xun slowly turned around. His movements were slow, with a deliberate, cold restraint.
The candlelight outlined the lines of his taut jaw, and his unfathomable eyes, now like two deep, icy pools, churned with complex and sharp undercurrents that Xin Jiuwei had never seen before. It was no longer a condescending scrutiny, but rather a penetrating inquiry that seemed to peel away her very soul, and… a subtle, almost imperceptible, offending chill.
She raised her eyes to meet Xiao Xun's scrutinizing gaze, her eyes revealing a deep hatred and pain, yet her tone remained calm: "This man is treacherous and cunning, his methods despicable, like a maggot clinging to a bone. Before I left the capital, I knew he was missing, fearing he would seek revenge. The nightmare I just had... was his hideous face from the past." She attributed the nightmare to the shadows of the past, explaining it as plausible.
Xiao Xun gazed at her silently. The candlelight flickered and danced in his deep eyes. He didn't speak immediately, seemingly weighing the truth in her words, analyzing the source and depth of the hatred in her eyes.
"Is that all?" he spoke again, his voice still devoid of emotion, yet carrying an invisible pressure, as if to say: This explanation is insufficient.
Xin Jiuwei's heart tightened, but she maintained her expression of grief and forbearance: "I am but a woman, and my family feuds and personal grudges may be insignificant in Your Highness's eyes. However, this person is like a leech to me; I cannot rest until he is gone. If he knew my current identity, he would lurk like a venomous snake, waiting for an opportunity to strike back. My loss of composure just now, disturbing Your Highness, was due to my lingering resentment and unsettled emotions. I beg Your Highness's forgiveness." She lowered her head again, her posture respectful and humble, attributing everything to "a woman's personal grudge" and the mistake of "disturbing Your Highness," cleverly avoiding deeper questioning and hinting at the potential threat Qi Huaiyu might pose—a threat to Xiao Xun.
Xiao Xun's gaze lingered on the top of her lowered hair for a long time. Only the faint crackling of the burning charcoal and their suppressed breathing remained in the hall. The air seemed to freeze, an invisible tension pulling between them.
Finally, he looked away from her, coldly uttering, "If it's a hidden danger, it should be eliminated as soon as possible." His tone was flat and emotionless, making it impossible to tell whether he believed her or was merely assessing the potential threat. He didn't press for details about Qi Huaiyu, nor did he offer any reassurance or blame for Xin Jiuwei's "disturbance."
He turned around, walked back to the narrow, hard couch, lay down fully clothed, and turned his back to Xin Jiuwei, as if the brief, oppressive confrontation had never happened.
Xin Jiuwei huddled in the cold shadows of the corner, her back soaked with cold sweat. Looking at Xiao Xun's indifferent and aloof back, she felt no relief, only a deeper chill. He knew Qi Huaiyu's name, knew her hatred for him. It was like a dangerous fuse, inadvertently lit. He seemed to no longer pursue the matter, but his unfathomable eyes clearly held suspicion and scrutiny. He wouldn't let this clue slip by.
The distant sound of the night watchman's drum at dawn echoed, its dull thud resonating in my heart.
"The time has come." Xiao Xun's voice rang out in the darkness, completely calm. He stood up, straightened his plain white mourning clothes, and without glancing at Xin Jiuwei again, went straight to open the palace door.
A cold wind, carrying the heavy scent of incense and candles, swept in, dispelling the last trace of warmth in the hall and making Xin Jiuwei shiver. She leaned against the cold wall to stand up, her legs numb and tingling from sitting for so long and the cold. She took a deep breath, suppressing all her surging emotions, straightened her back, and followed Xiao Xun, stepping once again into the somber and desolate white banners of the mourning hall.
The rituals of national mourning were elaborate and heavy, like invisible shackles binding everyone. Mourning, kneeling, welcoming and seeing off the imperial family and ministers who came to offer condolences… time slowly passed amidst the oppressive mournful music and numb grief. Xin Jiuwei remained dutiful, her head bowed, playing the role of a sorrowful and docile “prospective sixth prince’s consort.” Xiao Xun, on the other hand, reverted to his cold, deep, and impeccably composed princely demeanor, as if the conversation in the side hall the previous night was merely a hallucination of Xin Jiuwei.
However, Xin Jiuwei could clearly feel the subtle, scrutinizing gaze emanating from Xiao Xun's direction. It wasn't an assessment between contractual partners; it was more like the cold observation of a hunter locking onto the prey's weakness. She knew that the name Qi Huaiyu had become a sword hanging over her head.
Princess Yongjia, Liu Yiyi, and the others dared not act rashly in the mourning hall, but their resentful gazes, like poisoned needles, would occasionally pierce Xin Jiuwei, carrying a malicious anticipation of watching a good show. They were waiting for the palace banquet after the Empress Dowager's coffin was moved into the imperial mausoleum, waiting for the moment they had meticulously planned, a moment that would plunge Xin Jiuwei into eternal damnation.
Finally, the lengthy national mourning ceremony was drawing to a close. After the Empress Dowager's coffin was moved to the imperial mausoleum, a vegetarian banquet was held in the palace to entertain the imperial relatives and noblewomen who had been keeping vigil for days and were exhausted both physically and mentally. Although it was called a vegetarian banquet, it was in fact the beginning of a new wave of undercurrents.
The banquet was held in Chonghua Hall, next to the Imperial Garden. Although the hall's vibrant decorations had been removed, and it was predominantly white, it was brightly lit, with palace servants moving about. The atmosphere, compared to the somber mood of the vigil, held a more subdued, undercurrent of tension. The Empress sat in the main seat, her expression weary and sorrowful. The Second Prince, Xiao Zhuo, stood beside her, maintaining his gentle and compassionate demeanor. Xiao Xun sat at the head of the princes' seats, while Xin Jiuwei was seated slightly behind him.
Xin Jiuwei kept her eyes down, her posture respectful, but her heart was pounding. She glanced at Xin Kui, who was standing in the corridor outside the hall. Xin Kui nodded almost imperceptibly, indicating that everything was proceeding according to plan.
Xin Jiuwei then looked at Xiao Xun's cold, hard profile. What plans had he made with the messages and evidence passed on by Chen Qing last night? Would he keep his promise and intervene at the crucial moment?
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
