Chapter 86

 

After finishing her duties for the day, Li Zhi encountered Xie Lanxu waiting for her outside Cheng’an Gate.

Xie Lanxu opened the window of his carriage and cast her a faint glance.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

And just like that, Li Zhi was dragged off to Tianxian Tower in the city.

The two of them secured a private room and, based on the waiter’s recommendations, ordered several signature dishes.

“I heard you stole the spotlight at the Imperial Hall this morning,” Li Zhi teased as she picked up her chopsticks.

“A minor scene,” Xie Lanxu replied nonchalantly.

“And what about Qian Yiwang?”

Xie Lanxu picked up a piece of lychee shrimp with his chopsticks, moved it toward Li Zhi’s mouth as if to feed her, and then, just as she opened her mouth, he pulled it back and popped it into his own.

Li Zhi: “…”

Does he even realize how childish he’s being?

“Qian Yiwang is fine,” Xie Lanxu said, pretending not to notice her exasperation. “He handled the situation cleanly from the start. Prince Feng’s accusations are all baseless nonsense.”

“Well, now you’ve completely offended Prince Feng.”

“With Prince Jing out of the picture, the emperor needs a new pawn to counterbalance Prince Feng. A prince with ties to the previous dynasty, whose father was accused of treason, and who now projects an image of nobility and righteousness… Such a piece is invaluable,” Xie Lanxu said with a faint smile.

Li Zhi tore a leg off a roast goose for herself.

“Well, my problem is relatively simple. Now it’s your turn,” Xie Lanxu said, setting down his cup. “What’s this business about ghosts haunting Changqiu Hall? Do you really believe in ghosts?”

“Of course not,” Li Zhi said, immediately dismissing the notion.

“Any leads?” Xie Lanxu reached out, gently wiping an oil stain from the corner of her mouth.

“The haunting of Changqiu Hall wasn’t first discovered by Lu Yao,” Li Zhi explained.

The Palace Administration Bureau was the best-informed office in the imperial court, and Li Zhi, as its head, had access to countless records, including old rumors. Among them was the legend of ghosts haunting Changqiu Hall.

“The stories of hauntings at Changqiu Hall date back eight years,” Li Zhi began. “Eight years ago, the sixth prince, who had been adopted into Consort Shu’s household, died in the imperial garden. After that, rumors of hauntings began to circulate in the hall where Consort Shu resided.

“Consort Shu herself died a year later, bleeding to death during childbirth. It was a double tragedy—both mother and child died in Changqiu Hall. Since then, the place has been considered ominous, filled with eerie winds.”

“Lu Yao doesn’t know about this past. I was afraid the stories would scare her even more, so I didn’t tell her.”

“In addition to the sixth prince and Consort Shu, there are also stories of four palace servants who either died mysteriously or met with strange accidents, all said to be connected to the ghostly presence in Changqiu Hall. According to the rumors, these servants saw the ghost of Changqiu Hall, became cursed by evil spirits, and died as a result.”

“Cursed by evil spirits…” Xie Lanxu chuckled softly, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

“That’s why I suspect,” Li Zhi continued, “that the person pretending to summon ghosts may not even be targeting Lu Yao specifically. It’s more likely that this is part of a deeper conspiracy tied to Changqiu Hall’s history, and Lu Yao is merely collateral damage because she happens to live there now.”

“In terms of palace secrets, the Palace Administration Bureau is far better informed than the Court of Judicial Review. I don’t have any additional intelligence to offer. But based on what you’ve just told me…” Xie Lanxu’s expression turned thoughtful. “Perhaps the key is to investigate the origins of it all.”

Though his usual demeanor remained cold and indifferent, there was genuine concern in his tone. Li Zhi recognized the goodwill behind his words and smiled in agreement.

After the meal, Xie Lanxu escorted Li Zhi home.

The Prince Langya’s carriage was noticeably more spacious than those of ordinary households. While the exterior wasn’t particularly ornate, the interior had everything one could need.

When the windows were closed, the carriage became its own private little world.

And since it was a private little world… they could do as they pleased.

At least, that was the theory.

Li Zhi’s cheeks flushed red as she tried to suppress her embarrassment. The young man had buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent like a koi fish that had just been returned to water, greedily drawing in air.

Outside the tightly shut windows, the faint cries of street vendors could be heard. Inside, however, it was so quiet that only the sound of their heartbeats filled the space.

The intimate atmosphere enveloped them in their secluded little world, heating their breaths until they felt scalding.

Li Zhi could feel his high, slender nose brushing against her skin like a puppy’s, repeatedly grazing her in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

The duration of 15 minutes dragged on like a century.

Finally, Xie Lanxu lifted his head from her shoulder and looked at her with dark, unreadable eyes.

“If I don’t take the initiative to get close to you, you don’t come close to me,” he said, his voice low and tinged with a unique intensity. “Did you deceive me? Do you not truly care for me?”

Li Zhi’s heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him.

“How could you think that? Am I not already head over heels for Ah-Li?”

“Not enough…” Xie Lanxu said coldly, staring at her unblinkingly. “You’re not head over heels enough for me.”

“…Then what would be enough?”

“At the very least, it should match mine. No less than mine,” he said in a low voice. “I want to see you every day.”

“I, too, want to see Ah-Li every day,” Li Zhi quickly reassured him.

“But I’m always the one seeking you out,” Xie Lanxu countered, his tone icy with reproach.

Li Zhi found herself at a loss for words.

“…Then what do you want me to do?” she asked honestly.

“You’re clever. You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone dropping another degree.

As Li Zhi tried to decipher his cryptic request, Xie Lanxu lowered his head and fiddled with the jade pendant hanging from his waist.

“I don’t have a sachet,” he said.

“…What?”

“I don’t have a sachet,” he repeated, raising his head to fix her with a frosty stare.

“…I understand!”

When Li Zhi stepped out of the carriage at Hulu Alley, she waved goodbye to Xie Lanxu with a bright smile.

But the moment she turned around, her smile collapsed.

The Palace Administration Bureau had an endless pile of work, and the court’s political climate shifted daily.

A sachet. A sachet!

Now was the time to make a sachet?

And even if she had the time… did she even know how to make one?

Xie Lanxu had truly handed her a task more difficult than investigating the ghostly happenings at Changqiu Hall.

—-

The next day, after reporting for duty at the palace, Li Zhi finished her work and made her way to Changqiu Hall to see Lu Yao.

“Zhaoyi is ill?” Li Zhi frowned in concern when she heard the news.

At Changqiu Hall, she didn’t see Lu Yao herself. Instead, it was Lu Yao’s personal maid, Chunmei, who received her.

Chunmei looked somewhat puzzled as she explained, “Not exactly ill. It’s just that Zhaoyi hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days and has decided to decline all visitors to rest properly. As you know, Zhaoyi often hears strange noises at night. But she instructed me to meet with you and fulfill any requests you have.”

Fortunately, Li Zhi’s investigation didn’t require Lu Yao’s personal involvement. She shared her needs with Chunmei, who quickly understood.

To investigate the ghostly disturbances, Li Zhi decided to start at the source—by waiting for the “ghost” to appear.

This was easily arranged. Changqiu Hall had plenty of vacant rooms. Chunmei assigned Li Zhi to one that offered a clear view of Lu Yao’s room. Li Zhi specifically reminded her to keep the arrangement discreet, to avoid alerting the potential culprit.

The real challenge arose when Li Zhi tried to enlist help from the staff of the Palace Administration Bureau.

As soon as the female officials heard they were being sent to stake out Changqiu Hall, the expressions of even the more capable ones turned pale with fear.

One of them even fell to her knees with a loud thud. “Director Li! Please spare us! I don’t want to die!” The kneeling woman sobbed as though Li Zhi were about to send her into battle with nothing but a blade.

After pressing them for details, Li Zhi finally understood—the Palace Administration Bureau had investigated the ghostly incidents at Changqiu Hall before.

And anyone who had witnessed or tried to interfere with the “ghosts” had mysteriously died shortly thereafter.

The palace was rife with rumors that these deaths were caused by the vengeful spirit of the sixth prince.

“Director Li, I’m not trying to scare you…” one of the junior officials stammered, her face drained of all color. “A friend of mine, a palace maid, fell into a well and died last year. The record says it was an accident—she slipped while getting up at night—but that’s not true at all.

“She confided in me a month before her death. She told me she saw the ghost of the sixth prince on the palace path near Changqiu Hall…”

Li Zhi pondered for a moment, then said, “If you are so determined to dissuade me, I will set the matter aside for now.”

The female officials looked as though they had just been granted a second lease on life, each exhaling in visible relief.

Changqiu Hall wasn’t exactly short-staffed. So why were there no eyewitnesses among the night guards?

Now, Li Zhi finally understood why the “ghost” was able to roam Changqiu Hall as if it were completely unguarded— anyone who witnessed the “ghost” was dealt with.

Terrified for their lives, the palace staff would rather shut their eyes and block their ears, convincing themselves that the strange sounds and shadows were nothing more than the wind.

“Director Li… aren’t you afraid?” one of the female officials asked, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear.

Li Zhi smiled faintly.

“I almost wish ghosts were real,” she said softly.

Forcing frightened subordinates to accompany her would only create unnecessary complications. It would be better to handle things on her own.

She may have appeared delicate on the surface, but in truth, she was far from weak.

The self-defense techniques Hei Huo had taught her weren’t enough to take on an army, but they were more than sufficient for protecting herself.

After giving instructions to the Palace Administration Bureau, Li Zhi wrote a letter to Xie Lanxu and sent it to him via messenger.

Before returning to Changqiu Hall, she remembered something and procured a few items from the other palace staff. Upon her arrival, Lu Yao still hadn’t emerged, seemingly still resting.

Li Zhi preferred to keep her presence at Changqiu Hall low-key. After all, to catch a ghost, one first needed the ghost to show itself. Scaring it off beforehand would ruin everything.

She ate a bit of the dry rations she’d brought with her to fill her stomach. From the window of her assigned room, she saw Chunmei closing the windows of the main hall.

Finally, night fell.

By the pale moonlight, Li Zhi kept watch over the main hall from her slightly ajar window.

For someone else, staying up all night might have required a partner to alternate shifts. But Li Zhi had always been a light sleeper—staying awake through the night was second nature to her.

The first night of her stakeout ended without incident.

By day, she returned to her office at the Palace Administration Bureau to handle her duties.

By night, she resumed her silent vigil at Changqiu Hall. In the downtime, she wrestled with the needlework for the sachet she was supposed to make.

Three days passed in this manner, and she didn’t return home once.

Finally, on the fourth night, something happened.

Under the cover of darkness, a figure cloaked in black moved stealthily to the window of Lu Yao’s room.

Li Zhi’s eyes sharpened.