Dou Qingyi dressed extraordinarily beautifully tonight, wearing a light blue, waist-cinched long gown that highlighted her slender waist, with a dreamlike gilded tulle outer garnt. Her collar was loosely open, revealing the embroidered pink lotus that exuded a delicate fragrance.
Although she was no longer a young maiden, her figure remained graceful, and her beauty carried an innate radiance.
At this mont, no man would be able to resist her.
"Your Highness."
Her voice, like her deanor, was soft and lodious, "The hour is late; the official docunts can be dealt with another day. Health is important."
Lu Zhaoyan paused while drinking his soup.
Dou Qingyi gently stretched out her hand, taking his soup bowl and placing it lightly on the table: "Your Highness, Qingyi is here to attend to your rest."
The moonlight was tender, the night calm and serene — truly a perfect setting.
Dou Qingyi gazed at Lu Zhaoyan with a loving expression, slowly leaning toward him, ready to fall into his arms.
Crash!
A loud noise ca from Lu Yuan’s room.
Lu Zhaoyan suddenly raised his gaze, standing up.
Dou Qingyi missed her mark, awkward and embarrassed, staring at Lu Zhaoyan: "Your Highness..."
The noise ca from Lu Yuan’s room. Lu Zhaoyan furrowed his brow and said to Dou Qingyi, "You should return and rest for now."
Dou Qingyi secretly bit her lip. Clearly, the prince was already wavering. If she just pushed a little more, she could share this night in intimacy with him.
But now—
Dou Qingyi smiled lightly: "Qingyi is not tired. Qingyi will wait for Your Highness."
Lu Zhaoyan left the room.
If he hadn’t outright rejected her, there was still hope.
Dou Qingyi quietly left the study room, thinking Lu Zhaoyan was heading to his own quarters, but instead, she watched him enter the neighboring room.
She called over a young maid standing watch in the hallway and pointed to the door, asking, "Is soone in that room?"
The young maid replied, "Madam, that is the young master’s room."
The maid only knew that the newly arrived man had been acknowledged by Your Majesty, but whether he ranked as the first or second son, the masters had not specified, so she could only follow the other servants and call him "young master."
Dou Qingyi naturally understood who this "young master" referred to.
Your Majesty’s designation of her as Crown Princess Consort had been ruined by this boy, and now even her intimacy with the prince tonight was disrupted by him.
Was this boy sent here specifically to sabotage her?
For people to believe he wasn’t acting intentionally—it was heresy.
A cold glimr flashed in Dou Qingyi’s eyes.
The young maid, unintentionally catching sight of her displeasure, couldn’t help but silently tremble.
Dou Qingyi had always presented herself within the household as a gentle and virtuous figure, never scolding servants harshly but reasoning kindly instead.
Dou Qingyi noticed the maid’s surprise and smiled: "What is the young master’s na?"
The maid shook her head: "This servant does not know."
Dou Qingyi spoke softly, "I understand. It gets chilly at night; those working night shifts should wear more layers."
The maid felt a warmth in her heart: "Yes, madam."
Madam was always considerate of the servants—it must be sheer paranoia that had made her think otherwise earlier.
Dou Qingyi decided to wait for Lu Zhaoyan in his room instead.
She reasoned that it was already late; surely that boy couldn’t stir trouble all night. And yet, she waited and waited, till exhaustion crept in, but Lu Zhaoyan never returned.
She ground her teeth in frustration.
These father and son—the mont they saw that boy, it was as if bewitched—each and every one utterly captivated by him.
anwhile, in the neighboring room.
Lu Yuan lay sprawled lazily across the soft bed, completely lacking in decorum.
Lu Zhaoyan sat stiffly on a stool, his face dark: "What happened? Why did you throw the chair?"
Lu Yuan quipped imdiately: "It started the fight!"
Lu Zhaoyan: "..."
Lu Zhaoyan asked sternly, "Are you done ssing around?"
Lu Yuan pulled out his trump card: "Keep scolding , and I’ll tell my Imperial Grandfather!"
Lu Zhaoyan was again left speechless.
His Emperor father’s affection for this "grandson" was indeed greater than for his real son.
As for the reason behind this... it boiled down to: rarity increases value.
Grandsons were few; to suddenly gain one naturally pleased the Emperor greatly.
And this grandson played by no rules, endlessly cunning, while everyone else respected the Emperor as their ruler, this boy alone dared to behave recklessly before him.
It was an unorthodox strategy, full of risk.
If mishandled and the Emperor were angered, all would be lost.
You could only say this boy’s courage defied limits, daring to gamble everything on impulse.
Lu Zhaoyan warned: "I urge you to restrain yourself. Don’t think you can do whatever you want as ’Imperial Grandson.’ Once the truth cos to light, not even I will be able to protect you."
Lu Yuan dismissively replied, "Then just let die."
"You..."
Lu Zhaoyan was furious, "Does your mother know you act like this? If sothing happens to you, have you thought how she will spend her remaining days?"
Lu Yuan retorted, "You already have won and sons. Why bother about my mother?"
Lu Zhaoyan opened his mouth but refrained from arguing.
She had remarried. Her affairs were now another man’s concern.
Lu Zhaoyan said nothing, and Lu Yuan fell silent too—the two remained stuck in mute confrontation.
Ti passed quietly, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Eventually, Lu Yuan spoke faintly: "The bed isn’t comfortable."
Lu Zhaoyan asked: "What’s uncomfortable about it?"
Lu Yuan replied, "It’s just uncomfortable—I want a new bed."
Lu Zhaoyan remarked, "You chose this room yourself back then."
Lu Yuan shalessly declared: "I didn’t test the bed first."
Changing the bed was impossible. Where would one procure a new bed at this hour?
Lu Zhaoyan cast a glance at him: "Stop using that excuse with . Sleep or don’t—it’s up to you."
Lu Yuan threw off the blanket, got out of bed, and headed outdoors.
Lu Zhaoyan called out, "Where are you going?"
Lu Yuan replied, "Into the palace to find Imperial Grandfather."
Lu Zhaoyan shouted, "Get back here!"
Lu Yuan stated matter-of-factly, "The bed isn’t comfortable."
Suppressing his anger, Lu Zhaoyan ordered toward the door, "Ji Feng, take him to select a guest room."
Ji Feng led the young master to try several guest rooms. After making the rounds, Ji Feng returned.
"Which room did he choose?"
Lu Zhaoyan asked.
Ji Feng hesitated, paused briefly, and truthfully responded, "Yours."
Lu Zhaoyan: "..."
Dou Qingyi waited for an age, her patience wearing so thin that flowers were practically wilting, until finally soone entered the room.
She imdiately stepped forward gracefully, smiling warmly: "Your Highn... it’s you?"
—
The moon hung high in the sky.
Two black silhouettes stealthily slipped into the Liu Family residence.
The Goddess was not at ho tonight.
Otherwise, before they could get close, she would have already sensed them.
"Which room?"
"The third one to the east."
"Are you certain?"
"The information is accurate."
"Don’t grab the wrong person."
"It’s not grabbing—it’s searching! This is the Third Miss of the Thousand chanism Pavilion, a noble figure. If she loses so much as a strand of hair, our lives are forfeit."
"Alright, alright, hurry up. Let’s fetch her... find her!"
The pair entered Shang Changle’s courtyard.
They crouched on the wall, gazing furtively at the beauty bathed in the moonlight.
She lay reclined on a rattan chair lined with tiger fur, eyes closed.
The moonlight spilled over her; she was breathtakingly beautiful.
A tiny, delicate child clung to her chest, breathing evenly.
"Why is there a child?"
One of the black-clad n asked.
The other replied, "No idea—don’t worry about it."
The two vaulted into the courtyard, wasted no words, incapacitated their target, then one lifted the child while the other carried the woman out.
Operating in the Goddess’s residence was an inherently dangerous mission, so the two remained hyper-alert, escaping five miles without pause.
Only after retreating down the mountain did they notice sothing strange—a tiny figure clung to one of their legs, small eyes wide and curious.
One black-clad man exclaid in shock, "I left her on the rattan chair! When did she grab onto ?"
Given his sheer terror and urgency to escape, it wasn’t surprising he hadn’t noticed.
"What should we do?"
He asked.
The other man, carrying the unconscious woman, frowned deeply: "Returning her now is too late. If we run into the Goddess, none of us will escape alive, and the mission will fail."
"Then... then... kill her?"
The man with the woman declared, "Killing her would leave a corpse, and she may already carry traces of us. We take her—once we leave Witch Mountain, we find a place and ditch her."
The pair hurried through the night, exerting every ounce of effort, riddled with fear of pursuit by the Goddess.
By dawn, they finally exited Witch Mountain.
"Where’s the carriage?"
The one carrying the woman asked.
"In the woods."
The one holding the child panted in reply.
The man carrying the woman asked in puzzlent, "You’re this tired?"
He carried an adult and still had plenty of energy to spare.
Exhausted, the other man wheezed: "Feels like lugging a little anchor... Try holding her yourself..."
The man carrying the woman said, "No need—let’s get on the carriage."
The pair found the hidden carriage in the forest, placing their captives inside—one big, one small—before climbing onto the driver’s seat to head southwest.
"She won’t wake up, right?"
Panting from all his effort, one asked.
The other guided the horses: "Even if she does, it doesn’t matter. The Third Miss from Thousand chanism Pavilion doesn’t know martial arts. Besides, we aren’t her enemies—it’s the Pavilion Master who ordered us to rescue her back to the southwest."
"Go slower. Her health is fragile—she can’t take bumps."
"Slowing down isn’t an option. The Pavilion Master said the faster we deliver her to the Imperial City, the better. Over a day late and a thousand taels less in reward."
"Then hurry up! A thousand taels of silver on the line!"
The two drove the carriage urgently toward the Southwest Imperial City.
Thanks to their familiarity with the terrain, they swiftly bypassed Miasma Forest and exited Miaojiang.
Within the carriage.
Liu Qingyun, her face now sared with a child’s drool, finally reached her breaking point and opened her eyes, lifting the restless little one clinging to her.
She sternly eyed the unruly child, ready to ask its motives, only to suddenly realize her own predicant.
The swaying motion—she was in a carriage?
Liu Qingyun sat upright and peeled back the window curtain, observing trees rushing past outside—a moving carriage, undoubtedly.
However, this carriage felt wholly unfamiliar.
She parted the front curtain, staring at two strange figures, asking suspiciously, "Who are you?"
One focused on driving while the other turned to reply, "Third Miss, you’re awake? Don’t be afraid—we are entrusted by your father to rescue you back to the southwest."
Liu Qingyun asked, "My father is... and where in the southwest?"
The black-clad man replied, "Thousand chanism Pavilion in the southwest."
Third Miss, a pavilion... They mistook her for Shang Changle?
Were their eyes this poor?
Liu Qingyun touched her face and finally rembered—the veil.
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