Shu Mingye scoffed under his breath. Ridiculous. What nonsense. He'd had enough. He turned around, feet already moving to get out of this fool's circus before it got any worse. But then, he heard it.
"No," she replied, her voice calm and clear. "I asked for Heaven's mercy…"
She paused.
"… to guide these souls safely to hell, and hopefully let them settle there for eternity."
Shu Mingye froze. Mid-step. Mid-breath. Mid-everything.
Did he hear that right?
He turned around slowly. His mouth twitched. Not a smile. Not a grimace. Something in between, like his face couldn't decide what to do.
Across the hall, the emperor's face went from smug to stunned to purple in under three seconds. Princess Fu Qingya's smile cracked. Not figuratively. It cracked, like thin porcelain under pressure.
Did she really just say that? In front of the emperor? In the ancestral hall?
She did. She absolutely did. And for the first time in a long while, Shu Mingye felt something dangerous and oddly delightful stir in his chest.
Then Linyue, perfectly unfazed, turned away. "Then I will leave first," she said flatly, like she hadn't just drop-kicked an entire bloodline. "I haven't rested since I arrived."
And just like that, she walked off. Leaving behind the stunned silence of ghosts, nobles, and one possibly steaming emperor.
Shu Mingye followed. Not because he had to. But because, for once, he wanted to.
Outside the hall, the air was cooler, calmer. No more choking on sandalwood. No more ghosts silently judging them from behind silk curtains. Just cool, crisp night air and blessed freedom.
As they walked, he casually reached out and grabbed her icy hand, letting it settle naturally in his warm palm. She didn't pull away. Didn't glare. Didn't even say anything sarcastic, which was suspicious on its own. She just let him hold it.
A wide, foolish grin spread across his face before he could stop it. "Did you realize what you just did?" he asked, trying to sound stern but mostly sounding like someone impressed against his will.
"Of course. I prayed sincerely," Linyue said with a proud little nod, as if she hadn't just invented the perfect prayer for cursing a bloodline.
For a few seconds, Shu Mingye just stared at her. He was completely speechless. She never failed to surprise him. Always doing the most unexpected thing, at the worst possible time, in the most dramatic way. "You're going to get into trouble."
"Mhm," she replied confidently. And honestly, maybe she had. Her eyes lit up with something wicked. She looked... satisfied.
Then she smiled. Not the usual fake polite smile. Not the sneaky little smirk. This one was real. A genuine, warm smile. It was soft and bright, curling up at the corners of her lips and lighting up her eyes. It even came with a dimple—soft, sweet, and completely dangerous.
Shu Mingye looked away quickly.
Too sweet. Too tempting. Too... everything.
Forget it. He still didn't know what her goal was. Today, they could be walking side by side like this. Tomorrow, she might stab him with that same hand he just held.
So, the two of them continued walking in silence. The sky had darkened, stars blinking into view above them.
Once they reached their destination, without a word, they went into their separate chambers.
But as Shu Mingye shut his door behind him, one thought crossed his mind:
That prayer? It might've been the best thing he'd heard all year.
As Linyue stepped into the chamber, Song Meiyu, who had trailed behind like forgotten luggage finally burst with curiosity.
"Sister Linyue!" she blurted out, practically tripping over her own feet. "Why did you do that back there?"
Linyue barely glanced at her. She looked as calm as someone who'd just gone on a polite stroll, not publicly cursed an entire imperial bloodline in front of ancestral tablets. "Because why not?"
Song Meiyu stared at her. "Did you just casually doom a bunch of royal ancestors? Wait… do you actually have a grudge against the imperial family?" She leaned forward, eyes shining.
Linyue waved it off. "Forget it. We have something more important to do. Something… more exciting."
Song Meiyu gasped dramatically. "Is it time for the secret mission? Finally?"
"Yes," Linyue said, her grin just a little too wicked to be holy. "Let's call Brother Zhenyu and Brother Yuying."
From her sleeve, she pulled out a smooth, palm-sized jade. It looked ordinary, smooth and cool to the touch. At first glance, it looked like an overpriced worry stone. But no. This was a Spirit Transmission Jade, a special tool that let people talk across long distances. All it took was a bit of spiritual energy.
The jade only worked with its paired, the one it was linked to. If the other person also had spiritual energy, they could hear her voice and answer back. But if they didn't, the jade was useless, just a pretty rock.
Linyue thought the idea was clever, even if it wasn't perfect. If she wanted to talk to five people, she'd need five different jades, each linked to a different one. A little troublesome, but it was better than sending handwritten notes on paper talismans—those things got lost halfway through, stuck in trees, or worse, landed in someone's breakfast porridge.
Linyue poured spiritual energy into the jade. It glowed softly in her hand, and Shen Zhenyu's familiar voice came through loud and clear:
"Linyue, where are you now?"
"I'm in my chamber on the east side of the palace."
"I'll go there."
"Yes. Thank you, Brother Zhenyu."
Her lips curved up in a smile. Shen Zhenyu always knew. She didn't have to explain things to him, he just understood. It warmed her a little inside, though she'd never admit it.
She glanced at Song Meiyu, who was now bouncing on her heels.
"Sister Meiyu," Linyue said, her tone serious but her eyes glinting with amusement, "there's something important you have to do tonight. Something only you can do."
Song Meiyu practically vibrated with excitement. "All right! Leave it to me!"
She didn't know what it was yet, but that didn't matter. Her eyes sparkled with purpose. Possibly chaos.
Linyue nodded. "First, you need to change, Sister Meiyu," she said, pulling out an elegant white dress. Silver embroidery curled across the collar and sleeves like vines, and under the candlelight, the threads shimmered faintly, like moonlight that had gotten lost and decided to settle on cloth instead.
Song Meiyu blinked at the dress "I wear this?"
"Yes."
"… Why?"
Linyue didn't answer. Being mysterious was half the fun. After all, unpredictability was practically her job description. She had a reputation to uphold.
While Song Meiyu reluctantly disappeared to change into her new outfit (and twirled at least three times in front of a mirror), Linyue also changed her clothes. No fancy silks, no embroidered flowers, no pastel colors. Instead, she changed into pure black. Black top. Black trousers. Black shoes. She looked like a shadow with very specific fashion taste. Or a very stylish criminal. Maybe both.
Song Meiyu returned at last, her sleeves swishing as she walked. She looked like a very elegant, very confused fairy who had just wandered into the wrong banquet. Her eyes scanned Linyue's outfit with suspicion. And curiosity. And maybe a tiny spark of admiration.
Linyue, completely unbothered, looked up and asked sweetly, "Sister Meiyu, what's the strongest poison you brought? The kind that's powerful, but doesn't kill."