The aroma of medicinal herbs mingled faintly with the floral scent that always seemed to linger near Suyin. Outside of the Orange Blossom courtyard, the hush of night had fallen over the Palace, but inside this room, the air was charged with something far more potent than sleep.
Wansun sat cross-legged near the low table, his robes slightly dusted from travel, his expression composed but concerned. His gaze moved between Suyin and Qin Fuhua before he finally broke the silence.
"While I was in the southern villages," Wansun began, voice low, "I heard whispers… scattered at first, but repeating the same name: Teng Zhi."
Qin Fuhua's jaw tightened, the name curdling like vinegar in his mind.
"They're gathering again?" he asked.
Wansun nodded. "And not just gathering. They're provoking. They've attacked supply lines, assassinated a minor official loyal to the Qin court, and stirred fear into merchants. It's subtle now—but it's building."
Suyin's brow furrowed, her fingers curled loosely around the edge of her robe. "Then the rumors were true…"
"They are testing the waters," Wansun continued, "waiting to see how the Palace reacts."
Qin Fuhua exchanged a glance with Suyin before leaning forward, his voice quieter—measured.
"There's something else you need to know."
He waited until Wansun met his eyes before continuing.
"You know of my other name—Tienzheng."
"I do," Wansun replied calmly. "You've never hidden your truth from me."
Qin Fuhua glanced at Suyin again, this time with a weight behind his gaze, as if seeking confirmation. She gave a small nod.
"Then you should also know," he said slowly, "that the Emperor who sits on the throne… is not the true King."
Wansun's eyes sharpened. He said nothing for a moment, digesting the gravity of the statement.
"A mask," Suyin added gently. "I saw through it once. It's magical in nature—woven with deceit. I don't know who he is, or how long he's worn the face of the Emperor, but… he's not the man you remember."
Wansun inhaled slowly. "And only you saw it?"
"Because of a medicine given to me when I was a baby," Suyin said. "My grandfather was the one who did it. It allows me to see through false faces, masks born of illusion."
"We don't know who's behind it yet," Qin Fuhua replied, "but we have to be careful. One wrong move, and everything could collapse. The Teng Zhi clan, the masked Emperor, Zheng An's betrayal—it's all connected. We just haven't seen the whole picture yet."
Wansun nodded, his tone now grave. "Then we must move with caution. I will do what I can from outside the Palace, gather more news from those still loyal to you."
"You'll be discreet?" Qin Fuhua asked.
Wansun smiled, the faint glimmer of old camaraderie in his expression.
"Always. And if you ever need me… I'll be there. For both of you."
He turned to Suyin. "And you, Lady Han, or should I say, your Highness, have given us more than just hope. You've reminded us to look beyond the surface."
Suyin's lips curved gently. "Let's just hope we find what we're looking for… before they do."
---------------------------
The morning sun bled softly through the gauze of pale curtains, painting the Hall of Enlightenment in hues of gold and ivory. Incense trailed upward like strands of fate, mingling with the crisp scent of sandalwood. The Emperor sat atop the dais in stately silence, his robes like rippling brocade waves, his gaze calm but piercing as Qin Fuhua entered the chamber.
Qin Fuhua approached with quiet dignity, his expression unreadable yet composed, and bowed low.
"Your Majesty."
"Fuhua," the Emperor said with an incline of his head. "You have returned."
Qin Fuhua straightened, eyes steady. "I have come with gratitude… and a request."
The Emperor's brow lifted slightly. "Speak."
"Princess Chuhua's condition has stabilized," Qin Fuhua began, carefully choosing his words. "She is resting more peacefully, and her appetite has returned. I visited her yesterday—she seems brighter, more like herself again."
"That is good to hear." The Emperor's voice softened faintly at the mention of his daughter.
"I asked her," Qin Fuhua continued, "if she would like to come with me, to live outside the palace walls. But Chuhua has chosen to stay. She said the palace feels like home, and she wishes to remain where she can still feel close to you."
Qin Fuhua knew that the Emperor wouldn't touch Chuhua, until Wansun had mentioned that she had fully healed. For now, at least, she's still "ill" in the eyes of the people.
The Emperor lowered his gaze, thoughtful. "She has always been gentle-hearted. I had hoped… but I understand."
"I also ask one thing on her behalf," Qin Fuhua said. "Allow Wansun to stay by her side. He's familiar with her condition and deeply loyal to the royal family. His presence will ensure she remains well-tended, without burdening the court's physicians."
The Emperor took a breath. "Very well. If she finds comfort in his care, then he may remain."
Qin Fuhua bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"And your request?" the Emperor prompted.
"I wish to return to my home beyond the palace," Qin Fuhua said, his voice calm. "Now that Chuhua is stable, Suyin and I… we would prefer a quieter life. The palace has its own burdens, and I believe we will be of better service from afar."
The Emperor studied him, silent for a long breath. "You would leave court entirely?"
"I will always answer the Empire's call," Qin Fuhua replied with conviction. "But for now, I ask to live outside its walls."
The Emperor's expression softened. "You have served with unwavering loyalty, even in silence. If it is peace you seek, then I will not deny you.
Go, and may your days be quieter than the storms you've weathered."
Qin Fuhua bowed again, this time with a quiet sense of relief. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
As he turned to leave, the Emperor's voice followed after him.
"And Fuhua… tell Chuhua she has made me proud."
Qin Fuhua paused, then nodded with a faint smile. "I will."
----------------------------------------------------
The sky above the palace shimmered with the delicate hues of dawn—lavender and gold bleeding across the horizon like brushstrokes on silk. The corridors of the inner court were quiet in these early hours, the stone halls bathed in soft light as servants moved like whispers, gathering supplies, preparing carriages.
Qin Fuhua stood just outside the orange blossom Pavilion, dressed in a deep robe of navy and silver. He overlooked the horizon in silence, arms folded behind him, mind already pacing far ahead.
Suyin emerged beside him, her hair pinned with white blossoms, her travel garments simple yet graceful.
Her eyes reflected the light with quiet resolve, but her smile was tinged with something tender—bittersweet.
"Is everything ready?" she asked gently, her hand brushing against his.
Qin Fuhua nodded. "Yes. The guards will accompany us until the mountain pass. After that, we'll travel lightly. Fewer eyes, fewer questions."
Suyin looked out toward the distant gates. "Do you think they'll suspect anything?"
"Too many eyes remain here in the Palace," he said under his breath. "The Emperor's court is a labyrinth. Until we know who walks behind that mask… I can't risk appearing as Tienzheng again. Not here."
Suyin's heart ached for him—bound by duty, identity, and truth too dangerous to speak aloud.
"But once we reach Liaoping," he added, his voice softer, "we'll have space. I'll continue investigating the Emperor's ties with the Teng Zhi Clan in secret. Wansun will send messages through trusted riders."
Suyin nodded. "And I'll gather what knowledge I can in the village. If anything stirs near the southern border, I'll hear of it."
Before their departure, Suyin made one final visit to the Scholar's Courtyard. The sun dappled the stone walkways, golden petals drifting from the gingko trees above.
"Jiejie!" Yuan Fu called out, rushing over with Shao Feng at his heels.
Suyin turned wave at the both tightly, holding back the lump in her throat.
"You're really leaving?" Yuan Fu asked, his eyes glassy.
Suyin smiled, "Only to find a quieter life. You'll study well for me, won't you?"
Shao Feng nodded furiously. "And when I'm older, I'll come visit you in Liaoping!"
Yuan Fu stepped forward. "We'll miss you. Your spirit brought life here, even when it was silent."
Teacher Zhou Lin approached quietly, his aged face thoughtful. "Han Suyin," he said, voice heavy with wisdom, "in my years at the court, I have seen many students come and go. But few leave an imprint like you have. Wherever you go, may you carry this strength with you—and may it continue to change those around you."
Suyin bowed deeply. "Thank you, Teacher Zhou. For believing in me, even when I didn't believe in myself."
As they turned to leave, Yuan Fu slipped something into her hand—a folded piece of parchment with a pressed forget-me-not.
Suyin blinked, surprised. "Yuan Fu…"
"So you don't forget us," he whispered. "Or the girl you used to be here."
With a final embrace, Suyin returned to Qin Fuhua's side. Together, they boarded the carriage that would carry them toward Liaoping—toward home.
As the palace gates groaned open, Qin Fuhua reached for Suyin's hand.
"We're free now," he murmured. "But this is only the beginning."
Their fingers intertwined, the wind carrying petals and dust in their wake, as the capital faded behind them—and the road ahead stretched long and bright, filled with untold truths waiting to be unraveled.