Chapter 97

Proofreader: Mim

The day after the storm passed, the skies cleared, and the sun shone brightly.

The warm sunlight crept through the windows, teasing Li Zhi as she lay in bed. The morning light danced across her body, but as she gazed at the floating dust in the air, she felt even the specks of dust seemed more alive than she was.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her weary body to sit upright.

The sound of digging in the courtyard was incessant, making it impossible to ignore.

Li Zhi walked to the door and opened it.

In the courtyard, a lush osmanthus tree now stood tall. Judging by its thick branches and trunk, it seemed to have been growing for decades. Under the tree, Xie Lanxu was stomping the loosened soil around its base.

An autumn breeze swept through, rustling the tree’s leaves and branches. A golden shower of osmanthus blossoms scattered in the wind, falling like a rain of gold. Instinctively, Li Zhi reached out her hand to catch them.

When the wind subsided, she opened her palm to find a small osmanthus flower resting in the center.

“You’re awake,” Xie Lanxu’s voice came from beneath the tree.

She acted as though she hadn’t heard him, until he walked up to her, making his presence impossible to ignore.

“You like osmanthus,” he said, “so I moved the osmanthus tree from the Prefecture Magistrate’s residence here for you. When the time is right, I’ll have the century-old osmanthus tree from Yaohua Palace brought here as well.”

The same golden osmanthus blossoms fell on Xie Lanxu’s hair and shoulders. Li Zhi looked at him, at the clothing and accessories he wore—all of which she had personally chosen for him in the past. Back then, their relationship seemed genuine. But now, looking back, it felt like an eternity ago, a bond long since eroded by the tides of time.

“I ground my mother’s shinbone into powder and buried it beneath the osmanthus tree,” Xie Lanxu said lightly, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather. “With the nourishment of bone powder, the flowers will bloom even more beautifully next year. If you’d like, you could bury the remains of the Shendan under the tree as well, so it can keep you company day and night.”

“If you prefer to bury it elsewhere, I can accompany you,” he added, reaching out to touch her cheek.

Li Zhi’s expression remained indifferent, unmoved.

After the storm of emotions from the previous night, all that remained was exhaustion and numbness.

“Are you still angry with me?” Xie Lanxu asked.

He studied her face intently, but all he saw was a deadened calm, like ashes.

Her soul seemed to have gone far away, to a place he couldn’t reach or speak to. All that was left was this shell, lingering in the mortal world, staying by his side but devoid of life.

“The rubbing of the treasure map has been burned, and my mother’s shinbone has been ground into powder…” he said slowly. “Now, only I know where the treasure is.”

“…”

“You have to love me as much as you love the treasure,” Xie Lanxu said softly, gazing into her hollow eyes. “Because now, I am the treasure.”

Li Zhi allowed Xie Lanxu to pull her into his embrace.

Beyond his shoulder, she looked through the gaps between the golden osmanthus flowers and green leaves, catching glimpses of sunlight.

How could she stop?

She couldn’t stop.

Because even this life she was living did not belong to her. She was merely living in someone else’s place.

That afternoon, at an auspicious hour calculated by the priest, the four coffins were reburied in the ancestral tombs of the Li family in the eastern outskirts. Few people knew of this event, for strictly speaking, the deceased were still considered criminals.

Li Cien and Li Xiangsheng knelt before their mother’s grave, refusing to rise.

Madam Zhu’s parents, invited in secret, observed the ceremony from a carriage parked at a distance.

When Li Zhi approached the carriage, the elderly couple was already in tears.

Li Zhi took Madam Zhu’s identification tag from her sleeve and handed it over to the white-haired Mr. Zhu. His trembling hands accepted it.

Mr. Zhu repeatedly ran his fingers over the tag, his tears flowing uncontrollably. Beside him, Mrs. Zhu sobbed so hard she could barely speak.

“You not only helped return our daughter’s remains to her homeland but also ensured that her two children received an education and a chance to rise in the world. We, the Zhu family, will never forget your immense kindness,” Mr. Zhu said, his tear-filled eyes meeting Li Zhi’s. “I may not hold an official position, but I’ve spent a lifetime in business and have managed to save up some wealth. If you ever need anything from my family, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Li Zhi helped the elderly couple down from the carriage.

She watched as they expressed their gratitude once more before walking toward Li Xiangsheng and Li Cien.

As she observed the scene of the family embracing and weeping together, she was surprised to feel a twinge of envy in her heart—a heart she thought had gone completely numb.

They still had family.

She, however, was truly alone.

In front of her younger siblings, she maintained her usual composure. But when night fell and Xie Lanxu visited her again, she didn’t chase him away. Nor did she welcome him.

She treated him as if he were air, as if he were one of the osmanthus flowers that had accidentally drifted in through the window.

By the time she woke up, she believed he would naturally disappear.

Her shell necklace had gone missing the night before. She knew who had taken it, but it no longer mattered.

When she entered the palace, the morning court session at Ziwei Palace had already concluded.

In the women’s quarters of the office, the female officials were huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. When they saw her enter, they scattered like startled fish.

As part of the Palace Administration Bureau, it was her job to monitor and address rumors. No piece of palace gossip could escape her ears.

It wasn’t long before she learned what the palace staff had been gossiping about.

The emperor’s trusted aides, sent to Kui County to search for the treasure, had found only small amounts of gold and silver—far from the vast scale of the treasure they had hoped for.

Though the treasure hunt in Kui County did not yield the vast riches hoped for, it was not entirely fruitless.

A centenarian from the county admitted that, during the Wei royal family’s final southern tour, a large convoy carrying gold, silver, and jewels had indeed passed through the area.

The existence of the treasure was thus confirmed, though its precise location remained unclear. Court officials were divided over where it might be hidden.

In the end, the emperor accepted one official’s suggestion—to reopen the Eastern Palace and search the residence where the Crown Princess had once lived, in case she had left behind any clues.

The Imperial Guard surged into the Eastern Palace like a tide.

The palace, which had been sealed off for years, now welcomed an overwhelming influx of people. Dust that had been undisturbed for so long was stirred into the air in every room and hall.

The immense value of the rumored treasure captivated everyone’s hearts. And after so many years, the Eastern Palace once again became the center of attention.

That evening, Li Zhi arrived at the Eastern Palace, accompanied by a group of palace attendants carrying bamboo baskets and teapots.

The gates of the palace were heavily guarded by the Emperor’s personal Imperial Guards. From outside, Li Zhi could hear the sounds of digging and movement within.

“Palace Director, please stop. By the emperor’s orders, no unauthorized personnel may approach the Eastern Palace,” one of the guards said.

“Please inform Imperial Guard Lieutenant Li Mingke that Palace Director Li Zhi requests an audience,” she replied calmly.

The guards exchanged glances before one of them decided to pass on her message.

After some time, Li Mingke emerged from the Eastern Palace.

By blood, Li Zhi should have addressed him as “cousin.” However, given the formal nature of their positions and the number of prying eyes around them, she bowed respectfully instead and said, “This servant greets the Imperial Guard Lieutenant.”

Li Mingke nodded. “What brings you here?”

Although they were cousins, Li Zhi and Li Mingke had very little interaction growing up.

Their fathers had been at odds—Li Qiantong, upright and incorruptible, could not tolerate the sycophantic and self-serving nature of Li Qiaonian. The animosity was mutual, resulting in minimal contact between the two families.

Li Zhi knew little about her cousin, other than what she had heard after becoming Palace Director: Li Mingke, like his father, was said to be a man of integrity.

“This servant has been ordered by His Majesty to deliver provisions and tea to the guards and soldiers,” Li Zhi said.

Li Mingke seemed to understand immediately and instructed her to leave the supplies for the guards to consume during their breaks.

For three consecutive days, Li Zhi came to the Eastern Palace at dusk, accompanied by palace servants, bringing food and drinks for the guards searching the premises.

By the third day, the search was nearing its end. More and more guards were gathering in front of the palace gates to rest, and the exhaustion on Li Mingke’s face became increasingly evident.

There are two things in the world that penetrate every corner: wind and secrets.

The news that the Eastern Palace had unearthed numerous unidentified skeletons, already reduced to bones, first reached Li Zhi before it was reported to the emperor and subsequently spread throughout the palace.

For Li Zhi, there was one advantage to this discovery: the body of Crown Princess, missing its shinbone, was now mixed among countless other skeletal remains, making it nearly impossible to identify.

Though this was good news, it seemed meaningless to her now.

She would never be able to obtain the treasure of the previous dynasty.

This supposed “benefit” was one that only Xie Lanxu could enjoy.

He had successfully hidden the secret of the treasure.

Once again, he was ahead of everyone.

For Li Zhi, the aftermath of that fateful night marked a distance—a widening chasm between her and Xie Lanxu.

For Xie Lanxu, however, it marked a step closer.

Having discerned Li Zhi’s true intentions, he no longer needed to guard himself against her.

His behavior grew increasingly familiar and intimate, like a possessive child who had finally secured his beloved toy.

Walking in and out of Li Manor openly became the norm. He ignored the stares of others and waited outside the Palace Administration Bureau every evening to escort Li Zhi home after work.

One drizzly evening, as they walked side by side along the palace path, Li Zhi suddenly asked, “Were you the one who killed those people?”

Xie Lanxu held an oil-paper umbrella over them, a faint smile on his lips. His mood seemed pleasant.

“I only kill those who are guilty,” he replied.

“Then why didn’t you kill me?” Li Zhi stopped in her tracks, staring at his back. “I’m guilty too. I betrayed you.”

The early autumn rain fell relentlessly, soaking Li Zhi’s clothes.

Noticing that she had fallen behind, Xie Lanxu turned back and returned to her side, once again holding the umbrella over her head.

With all pretenses stripped away, he had become unexpectedly considerate and patient.

“I’ve lied to you as well,” Xie Lanxu said with a smile. “So we’re even.”

Even?

How could it ever be even?

She refused to lose. She wouldn’t allow herself to be defeated by someone who treated human lives like weeds, trampling on her grief and her heart.

She wanted Xie Lanxu to experience the pain of losing what he cherished most.

Only then would he truly understand her anguish.

“Why did you frame the Crown Prince?” Li Zhi asked.

“Because he wanted to kill me.”

Xie Lanxu’s answer was identical to the one he had given when asked why he killed the Crown Princess.

Perhaps, in his world, if one wasn’t the hunter, they could only be the prey. If one’s hands weren’t stained with blood, they would inevitably be soaked in it.

He had never possessed anything, so he didn’t understand the pain of losing it.

But Li Zhi had truly possessed and experienced happiness before.

Perhaps they would never understand each other.

“He believed in a prophecy,” Xie Lanxu continued, “one that claimed the calamities and disasters plaguing the realm were tied to me. He thought that sacrificing me would save the world.”

“He hesitated at first, but in the end, he decided to offer me up. He even asked for my forgiveness…”

Xie Lanxu’s voice grew quieter, his gaze turning colder.

“But I refused to forgive him.”

“The world and its people—what do they have to do with me?”

“I want to live. No matter what, I must survive.”

“Anyone who wants me dead, I will kill them first.”

Xie Lanxu took her hand, his eyes locking onto hers.

“You don’t have to agree with me,” he said.

“All I need is for you to live with me.”

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them.

From around the corner of the palace path emerged Prince Feng, his steps sluggish and spirit drained.

When he looked up and saw the two of them standing side by side, he abruptly stopped in his tracks.