For the first time in days, no one disturbed them. They finally slept a whole day through.
When Ji Yunxi opened her eyes, darkness had settled fully. Moonlight slipped through the gauze curtains and pooled on the floor. Shadows flickered from an armchair in the outer chamber. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stepped out quietly. Feng Xingzhi sat there, a book in his hands, reading with a stillness that made the room feel like a pocket of calm.
Ji Yunxi held a fox fur in her hands and, on impulse, draped it over his shoulders. He froze for a beat, then turned. Seeing her, his face softened into a gentle smile. “Xi Xi? You’re awake.”
She rested her head on her folded arm and watched him. “Have you been awake long?”
“Not really. Just for a little while.” He closed the book and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “Are you hungry?”
“If you hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have felt a thing. But now... I could eat.” Ji Yunxi gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
Feng Xingzhi shook his head with an affectionate helplessness and called for a servant to prepare supper. As they ate, Ji Yunxi asked, “The people from Menghua Pavilion—have they returned from their search yet?”
“It’s all right. The Empress has an antidote now; there’s no need to rush the investigation. They’ll be back when they’re back.” He sounded composed.
Ji Yunxi nodded, but as she spoke the names Jing Weiwei and Jiang Yaoji passed through her mind. Suddenly the food lost its flavor and she set down her chopsticks.
“Is something wrong? Not to your taste?” Feng Xingzhi asked, puzzled by her sudden pause.
“No.” She was more annoyed than anything. “It’s not the food. It’s... seeing you like this. It doesn’t sit right with me.”
His hand froze mid-air. “What?”
“You’re just so likeable, Prince Feng.” Her voice was sweet but edged with a teasing acidity.
Feng Xingzhi understood at once and his chest tightened. He hastily put down his chopsticks. “Xi Xi, I have nothing to do with them.”
Ji Yunxi laughed—couldn’t help it. She was only teasing. The curve of her smile made warmth rise in him. They didn’t need to say more; the candle between them kept their quiet goodwill.
For the next few days they took up residence in the Northern Di palace. Ji Yunxi sent daily elixirs to Hua Xi’an to sustain and revive her, while Jing Weiwei and Zhao Qingcang accompanied Princess Hua Siyun in the investigation into the poisoning. With the background checks Ji Yunxi had suggested, Hua Siyun began to focus on irregularities among the palace staff—and she found them.
Ji Yunxi caught glimpses of the Princess now and then and noticed how much Hua Siyun had matured: steadier, colder, more measured. Ji Yunxi still disliked Jing Weiwei and Zhao Qingcang, but they were efficient—a benefit of the training at Menghua Pavilion.
Two days later, Lianzhi, Hua Xi’an’s chief attendant, was brought before Ji Yunxi and Princess Hua Siyun, kneeling under Zhao Qingcang’s escort. The moment Lianzhi saw she’d been captured, she gave up pretending innocence; when the guards had cornered her at the passage, she’d known there was no escape.
Hua Siyun’s face went white with fury. She gripped the stool beside her as if to steady herself. “Lianzhi! Why? You’ve served my mother for over a decade. She’s always treated you well!”
Lianzhi’s eyes had a hollow look. “I— I acted on impulse, Your Highness. I wanted to leave the palace. I couldn’t bear this life any longer, but the Empress refused to let me go. I... I had no other choice.”
Ji Yunxi watched from the side, puzzled. Even if Hua Xi’an had forbidden Lianzhi to leave, choosing this method—poisoning the Empress—made no sense. Killing one’s protector to gain freedom was a ruinous bargain; it didn’t add up.
Ji Yunxi caught sight of Jing Weiwei across the hall and signaled her. Jing Weiwei had already dug up Lianzhi’s background: a peasant’s daughter taken into the palace young, with an elderly mother left at home. Lianzhi answered the questions quietly, but Ji Yunxi’s gaze had landed on a detail the others had missed: a jade bracelet on Lianzhi’s wrist—unusual for a girl of her station and too conspicuously fine to be hers.
Something clicked in Ji Yunxi’s mind. She leaned toward Hua Siyun and lowered her voice. “Siyun, she only has an old mother at home. Look at that bracelet—its worth is not that of a peasant’s keepsake.”
Hua Siyun’s face hardened as understanding settled in. She straightened in her seat. “Lianzhi, how is your mother’s health?”
The question flustered Lianzhi; her voice pitched higher, betraying panic. “This has nothing to do with my mother!”
Both women exchanged a look: of course the matter involved the old woman. Hua Siyun pressed, softer now but with an iron core. “You’ve been at my mother’s side since you were a child. I know you. You must have had reasons.”
Lianzhi’s eyes darted away. She trembled, torn between guilt and fear, and could not bring herself to speak for long.
Hua Siyun’s restraint snapped. “Lianzhi! Did you do this for your mother? Did you think murder would buy her a better life?” She choked on the words.
Ji Yunxi moved forward, no longer content to stand behind. Her gaze was cold and fathomless, as if she could see through Lianzhi to the truth inside. Lianzhi’s hands shook so violently her composure unraveled. It was clear she’d been holding back, but the confession never came.
Hua Siyun drew a breath and was about to order Lianzhi taken for interrogation and torture when a voice announced, “Princess—Miss Jiang has returned!”
Ji Yunxi’s brows shot up. How could Jiang Yaoji be back so soon? The Northern Di palace wasn’t terribly far from the Jiang household in the West Frontier, but the round trip should have taken at least five days. How had she returned today?
Hua Siyun and Ji Yunxi exchanged a look; both felt the hairs on their necks rise. Something was off.
Jiang Yaoji entered with an eunuch, carrying a brocade box in both hands. Feng Xingzhi watched from the side, his brow creasing. He stepped a pace forward and murmured to someone at his elbow. The figure that had appeared there vanished just as quietly.
Jiang Yaoji smiled faintly and handed the box to Hua Siyun’s attendant. “Princess, as promised. This is the antidote. Give it to the Empress at once.”
She seemed confident, as if Feng Xingzhi were completely within her control. The room exhaled—relief, suspicion, hope—all mixed together.
Then, from beyond the doorway, a voice cut through the hush. “Wait!”