Chapter 95

Proofreader: Mim

Li Zhi had no idea how she managed to return home.

Beneath the moonlight, she stepped down from the carriage. Outside the side gate of the Li residence, four black coffins were lined up. A crowd had gathered outside the gate, with Li Cien clutching one of the coffins and sobbing uncontrollably.

The head guard of the local magistrate’s office, Zhen Qiao, quickly approached.

He gazed at the frail young woman before him, who had risen from being the daughter of a criminal to her current position as the head of the Palace Administration Bureau, with eyes filled with respect. Bowing with cupped hands, he said,

“According to your instructions, Palace Director, the remains of the four individuals have been returned in coffins. In addition…”

He gestured briefly, and a subordinate brought forward an urn.

Zhen Qiao carefully handed the urn to Li Zhi with both hands.

“Too much time has passed. I did my best to recover what fragments of bones I could. This branch was also unearthed alongside them… I recall that the Palace Director had deliberately sought it out and buried it herself, so I brought it back as well.”

Li Cien, her eyes red from crying, stepped forward to take the urn from Li Zhi’s hands, allowing her to free her hands to receive the smooth branch.

Zhen Qiao, having completed his task, saluted her and departed with his men from the magistrate’s office.

The servants bustled about, moving the four coffins to an empty plot in the rear courtyard. Tomorrow, they would select an auspicious time for reburial.

Li Xiangsheng, who was on duty tonight, had yet to return. Li Cien followed the coffin of her mother, no doubt with many things she wanted to say.

Li Zhi carried the remnants of the dog, Shendan back to her bedroom, step by step.

The image of the four black coffins lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.

—–

“Big Sister Li, Big Sister Li, here’s a little flower for you!”

The bright, smiling face of Li Huizhi flashed before her eyes. He held a small yellow wildflower high in the air, presenting it to her like it was a treasure.

“Big Sister Li, this is the medicine my mother gave me for my sore throat! I don’t know if Aunt Qin is feeling better yet, but you can give this to her!”

Li Huizhi shoved a bundle of items into her arms—colorful and varied. There were green porcelain medicine bottles, sweet preserves favored by children, and even a jar of precious bird’s nest soup that was obviously pilfered from Madam Wang.

“Once Aunt Qin takes the medicine, she’ll recover quickly!” Li Huizhi grinned with pride.

The scene shifted abruptly.

Madam Wang’s scalding hot blood splattered across Li Zhi’s hands.

She forced the golden hairpin, which had been yanked from her throat, into Li Zhi’s palm with her last ounce of strength.

“Help me… bury…”

Her voice gurgled thickly, drowning in the rush of blood.

Li Huizhi lay lifeless in her arms, his face pale, his lips blackened. He would never open his eyes again.

—

“Miss, your immense kindness and virtue—I can never repay it in this lifetime. If there is a next life, I wish to become a lucky bird living under your eaves, bringing you blessings every single day.” Madam Zhu’s tear-filled eyes gazed deeply into hers.

Even as she walked far away, Li Zhi could still see Madam Zhu standing motionless by the shed, staring after her.

At the time, she hadn’t realized that would be their final meeting.

Madam Zhu had thrown herself into the raging river, sacrificing her life to pave a future for her two young children.

—

“Hurry, hurry, we’re almost up!”

“Stop rushing me!”

Li Xiang pressed down on her shoulders, urging her forward. Li Zhi kept a vigilant watch for anyone who might come by as she used all her strength to hoist Li Xiang up the courtyard wall.

Once Li Xiang had climbed up, she perched atop the wall and reached down her hand.

“Come on, grab my hand!”

Li Zhi took her hand, braced herself on the wall, and with a powerful push, climbed up to join her.

“See? I told you we could see the lantern festival from here!” Li Xiang exclaimed excitedly.

The two of them sat side by side on the wall, a full moon overhead, gazing at the distant festivities.

“Ah, I wish we could go outside…” Li Xiang sighed.

“You wouldn’t have been grounded if you hadn’t argued with Father!”

“How dare you say that? Father was going to hit you—that’s why I stood up to him!”

“And why was Father going to hit me in the first place? Because you let it slip that we’d dyed his beard green!”

“Well… well, you told me to do it! Honestly, you deserved to be hit!”

“If I deserved it, why did you stop him? You should’ve just let Father beat me to death! Let’s see if anyone will help you climb walls next time!”

The two girls turned away from each other with a huff, crossing their arms.

Their silent standoff lasted a while, until the sound of drums and gongs from the lantern festival caught their attention. The golden-red lion dancers leapt and twirled to the lively music, captivating them both. Their quarrel was forgotten as they watched, exclaiming in awe.

Even long after the lion dance ended, they remained immersed in the excitement of the moment.

Li Xiang suddenly said, “Next year, we have to go see the lantern festival for real.”

“Alright!” Li Zhi nodded eagerly, thinking the same thing.

“I wish we could just fall asleep and wake up at next year’s festival,” Li Xiang said dreamily, closing her eyes. The distant lantern light illuminated her face, filled with joy.

“You’re not even asleep yet, and you’re already talking nonsense!”

“You—!”

Before long, the two were bickering again.

Despite their squabbles, they still helped each other down from the wall.

And when it came to plotting mischief, the two of them were always the closest of allies.

—

The chill of early autumn jolted Li Zhi back to reality. She looked around to find only empty, desolate solitude.

So much time had passed.

Xie Lanxu’s expression was dark as he strode past the Li household servants, who bowed to him in greeting.

As a frequent guest of the residence, Xie Lanxu didn’t require any announcement to come and go.

Beneath his seemingly calm exterior, jealousy churned like a storm.

Because of this, he failed to notice that something was different about the Li residence tonight.

He walked briskly into the eastern wing, stepping straight into the main hall. The doors were wide open, and Li Zhi was seated at the tea table as if she had been expecting him.

On the table sat a strange clay urn and an unsightly dried branch.

Li Zhi sat motionless, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. Perhaps she was still lost in memories of Prince Feng.

Xie Lanxu’s anger flared even hotter, but he kept it under control, showing no outward sign. He sat down at the table across from her.

He waited for her to speak, as she had so many times before—to come to him seeking forgiveness, pleading with him.

But she didn’t.

Xie Lanxu had no choice but to break the silence. In a cold voice, he asked, “What is this?”

“…The remnants during the exile death.”

“They were found?” he asked casually.

Xie Lanxu had heard that she once sent people to search for the remains of her family, but he didn’t care.

“Li Xiang, Li Huizhi, Madam Wang, Madam Zhu… all four of their remains have been found,” Li Zhi said calmly.

Xie Lanxu’s gaze turned sharp, and he spoke with a biting tone, “Considering your private relationships with these four, I’d wager the person making you so grief-stricken isn’t one of them.”

Li Zhi lifted her head to meet his mocking eyes.

“You’re right,” she replied.

An indescribable sorrow and desolation surged within her, but to her own surprise, she began to laugh.

She laughed as she looked at Xie Lanxu and said, “Your Highness, your foresight is remarkable. You truly have everything under your control.”

The calm façade Xie Lanxu had been desperately maintaining shattered in an instant. A flash of anger flickered in his dark eyes.

For the first time, Li Zhi felt a faint sense of vindication.

“If I truly had everything under control,” Xie Lanxu said coldly, “I wouldn’t have been kept in the dark about your affair with Prince Feng. ‘A hundred years of harmony, three lifetimes of fate’—is that what you call our ‘passing acquaintance’?”

“You think I deceived you?”

“Didn’t you?”

Li Zhi could no longer hold back her laughter.

She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks, falling one after another.

“What are you laughing at?” Xie Lanxu demanded, his gaze locked on her.

Li Zhi slowly stood up.

Wiping the tears from her face with her sleeve, she said, “So what if I lied to you? Haven’t you lied to me as well, Your Highness?”

“…What lies have I told you?”

Her heart heavy with grief, Li Zhi let out a bitter laugh.

“When Your Highness asked me to help find the eunuch who delivered the secret letters, was it really to uncover the truth of the Crown Prince’s rebellion? Or was it to silence witnesses and eliminate any loose ends?”

Xie Lanxu’s expression shifted, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

“When Xunfeng accused me, you knew better than anyone that I wasn’t the mastermind. Yet you feigned doubt, pushed me to prove my loyalty by risking my life, just so you could later grant me a favor to win me over.”

“And after the secret letters were delivered, the Imperial Guards searched the Eastern Palace and found correspondence between the Crown Prince and Li Qiaonian. If I’m not mistaken, the Crown Prince’s handwriting was likely forged by none other than you, Your Highness.”

Xie Lanxu’s eyes flickered, betraying his inner turmoil.

“In truth, you knew all along that the person exchanging letters with the Crown Prince was Li Jinzhi, the eldest illegitimate son of the Li family. In fact, it’s highly likely that you were the one who manipulated him, planting such treasonous thoughts in his mind—”

Some questions carry their own answers the moment they are asked.

Judging by Xie Lanxu’s expression, Li Zhi knew she had hit the mark.

She had long harbored doubts.

Li Jinzhi, though short-sighted, greedy, and incompetent, had always limited himself to petty schemes. What could have driven him to suddenly grow bold enough to conspire with the Crown Prince for the throne?

And how had Li Jinzhi, with his mediocre intelligence, managed to mimic his father’s handwriting so flawlessly that the Crown Prince never noticed anything amiss?

Now, all her questions were answered.

Xie Lanxu didn’t bother to defend himself. He already knew that, at this moment, excuses would be meaningless.

He stood up and picked up the withered branch from the table.

As he held it, a memory surfaced. He now remembered where this branch had come from.

It was the very branch he had once broken off, stripped bare, and given to Li Zhi.

It had been the first time he had felt pity for anyone.

Or perhaps, from beginning to end, the only person he truly pitied was the version of himself standing motionless in the Eastern Palace, drenched in blood, staring at the blazing storm overhead.

He toyed with the branch for a moment before snapping it without hesitation.

The branch, long decayed after a year in the soil, crumbled easily in his hands, breaking into two pieces with the slightest effort.

He let the fragments fall from his hands, leaving them to hit the ground.

“You’re right,” he said. “The first step of my plan was to lure the Li family into the game. When Li Jinzhi visited the Eastern Palace, I swam to the riverbank, changed into the clothes I had hidden on the opposite shore, and pretended to encounter him by chance. Using half-truths, I planted the seed of ambition in him. Then, I offered to act as a messenger for him. He was foolish enough to believe me and brought a test letter during his second visit.”

“At a glance, I could tell he was pretending to be Li Qiaonian, but I didn’t expose him. Instead, I replied in the Crown Prince’s handwriting, emphasizing that the matter was of utmost importance and that he must not reveal our connection in front of others. From then on, he became a puppet on strings, walking step by step along the path I had laid out for him.”

“Do you realize how many lives your plan cost?” Li Zhi asked, her voice trembling. “If it weren’t for the exile, Li Huizhi, Li Xiang, and even Shendan… none of them would have died.”

“And didn’t you once send a secret letter to expose Li Qiaonian?” Xie Lanxu countered.

“I never sent any secret letter,” Li Zhi said firmly. “I hated Li Qiaonian, but I wouldn’t drag innocent people into it.”

“Never sent a secret letter…” Xie Lanxu repeated her words slowly. “And yet, with that one secret letter, you killed two birds with one stone—driving away Xunfeng and eliminating Li Jinzhi.”

Li Zhi was speechless.

“Banban, oh, Banban,” he said, calling her by her nickname. “Do you even know how many lies you’ve told me?”

He stepped closer, suddenly gripping Li Zhi’s hand.

His grasp was so forceful that even her fingertips ached.

“The dirt under your fingernails… was it really from looking for cats? Or from digging graves? Did you think I wouldn’t know the truth?”