WBSGVS Chapter 193 V1

Because it concerned her marriage, Sima Qinghe dared not delay. Though it went against her usual nature, the arrow was already on the string—there was no turning back. She could only drop a hint to the senior palace maid.

The palace maid immediately responded, “Princess, the door is shut, and the people inside haven’t answered even though they must’ve heard us. Something must have happened. We should break it down and check.”

Sima Qinghe nodded approvingly. “You’re right. Men, break the door down!”

The eunuchs stepped forward in unison and began to ram the door.

The door, part of the long-neglected Cold Palace, was old and dilapidated despite having been repaired by Qingli. Under the force of so many people, it didn’t take long before—bang!—it collapsed to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

The boy sitting beside Qingli, Sima Yan, flinched. His eyes widened as he tried to see who the intruders were, clutching tightly to his sister’s sleeve.

Though he had trained in martial arts for three years and was now ten years old, the only people he had regular contact with were his mother, sister, and three palace servants. The sudden arrival of so many strangers, especially with such force, frightened him.

As the dust filled the air, Qingli calmly covered her nose and mouth and did the same for Sima Yan, patiently waiting for it to settle.

A few breaths later, the dust cleared. The palace staff entered first to investigate, and what they saw was surprising: two siblings sitting quietly together, with two maids and an elderly nanny standing nearby.

They were stunned. One of them quickly turned and ran out to report the situation.

Soon, a woman in an elegant palace gown—not youthful and playful like a girl, but refined and noble—appeared in the rundown hall. Her face was filled with concern as she stepped inside, her steps quick and anxious. When she got a good look at the people inside, she froze. The words on her lips stalled—she didn’t know what to say.

She had imagined a fallen princess—frail, timid, helpless. But the girl in front of her…

Her lips moved slightly before she finally managed a few words. “You’re… the Sixth Princess? And you must be the Fourth Prince?”

Imperial children were numbered individually, so this was the formal way to refer to them.

At once, Nanny Dai and the others knelt and saluted.

Only Qingli remained motionless, reclining on the steps with her elbows propped behind her and legs casually crossed. Her expression was lazy, even a bit defiant. She didn’t seem the least bit concerned by Sima Qinghe’s show of power.

Both she and Sima Yan wore the simple cotton garments commonly seen in the palace, plain and unadorned.

But their looks were anything but plain.

Sima Yan’s skin wasn’t pale, tanned slightly from daily martial training under the sun. But his features were strikingly symmetrical, and his gaze was steady and determined. His face had begun to take shape with the first signs of maturity, and his body was lean, not scrawny—a picture of youthful strength.

The girl beside him, however, was even more dazzling.

Unlike her brother, Qingli didn’t train as intensely and was more careful about sun exposure. Her skin was pale, and her features—similar to Sima Yan’s—were exquisitely refined. She wore no makeup, but her thick brows, bright eyes, and naturally rosy, full lips gave her an effortlessly vibrant beauty.

As she curled her lips into a faint smile, the soft, youthful roundness of her cheeks added a touch of innocence to her otherwise striking features.

And despite Sima Qinghe’s elevated status, as she looked at Qingli, it felt as if Qingli was the one looking down on her.

Even as a well-traveled princess, Sima Qinghe had never seen a girl quite like this before. After taking a long, hard look, a question popped into her mind: Could she have grown up in the Cold Palace?

When Sima Qinghe finally spoke, Qingli didn’t respond directly. Instead, she asked, “Who are you?”

Sima Qinghe smiled lightly. “I’m your sister, Sima Qinghe. Father granted me the title of Princess Yueqin.”

Qingli tilted her head and smiled. “So that means I’m a princess too?”

Sima Qinghe responded solemnly, “Of course. You’re also Father’s daughter, naturally, you’re a princess. So this is where you’ve been all along… You’ve suffered, haven’t you, little sister?”

But Qingli said, “Then why…” She pointed to the palace staff around Sima Qinghe. “Why did Nanny Dai and the others bow to you, but not to me?”

Sima Qinghe’s expression faltered. All the emotions she had carefully prepared were swept aside by this unexpected question.

Wasn’t Qingli supposed to be overwhelmed with gratitude and desperate to escape this place?

The accused palace staff didn’t move immediately. Instead, they looked to Sima Qinghe, waiting for her signal.

Sima Qinghe quickly barked, “Well? Hurry up and pay respects to the Sixth Princess!”

Only then did the staff kneel and bow in unison.

“Rise,” Qingli said casually, waving a hand, clearly unimpressed.

Over the past five years, she had slowly let her real personality emerge. There was no reason to keep pretending to be the original Qingli forever. With her ability to see ghosts, Nanny Dai and the others hadn’t noticed anything unusual. She could even train Sima Yan in martial arts now—there were other spirits in the palace helping her.

All they could do was burn more offerings during the festivals and ask their loved ones to bring back more protective talismans whenever they left the palace, to keep the spirits’ dark energy at bay.

Sima Qinghe’s eyelid twitched. An uneasy feeling crept over her. From the moment the door opened, something felt off.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, then continued with her plan. Moving closer, she sat beside Qingli and said gently, “You’ve suffered so much, living in the Cold Palace all these years. Those wretched servants never reported your existence. Don’t worry, I’ll make things right for you!”

Qingli sighed. “It’s not their fault. After all, if even my father forgot about me, they were just following the rules.”

Sima Qinghe: “…”

Sima Yan blinked. His sister’s words sounded strange, like she was hinting at something. But he didn’t dare speak. She had already told him—they’d be leaving soon, and once they did, he should speak as little as possible.

“You’re joking, little sister,” Sima Qinghe said with a laugh.

Qingli grew serious. “No, I’m not. I mean it. If Father cared, he wouldn’t have forgotten about us for all these years.”

“…” Sima Qinghe wanted to agree. Technically, you weren’t supposed to criticize your father, but the emperor truly was careless—careless with national affairs, careless with the harem. If it weren’t for their royal uncle holding some military power, Zhou Xing would’ve staged a coup long ago.