CHAPTER FORTY‑NINE — HE WAS JEALOUS
Ye Lan Jue's brow twitched ever so slightly. A faint gleam flickered in his eyes, and the corner of his lips tightened in a way that suggested far more than he intended to reveal.
There was meaning there—deep, unsettling meaning.
Tang Ke Xin nearly choked on her own breath.
Of all the absurd things Ye Lan Chen could have said, this was the most outrageous. The Fourth Prince was unreliable at the best of times, but this question… this question was truly catastrophic.
Ye Lan Jue?
Liking her?
If someone had told her the heavens were about to rain red, she might have believed it sooner. But the Third Prince liking her? She would sooner believe he intended to strangle her.
Her exaggerated reaction did not escape Ye Lan Jue's notice. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
What did she mean by reacting like that?
"But Heart, are you alright?" Ye Lan Chen asked anxiously, patting her back as she coughed.
"No one told you that you can eat whatever you like, but you cannot say whatever you like," Tang Ke Xin snapped, glaring at him resentfully. Did his words not pass through his brain before leaving his mouth?
At her retort, Ye Lan Jue's eyes chilled. His lips pressed into a thin line, as though something inside him had been pricked—something sharp, something unpleasant.
He stared at her, lips parting slightly as if to speak—
"The Empress has returned," Aunt Xi announced from outside.
Ye Lan Jue closed his mouth at once.
He could not allow the Empress to hear any of this.
In truth, he could not allow anyone to hear it.
Tang Ke Xin tugged her collar higher, covering the faint red mark on her neck. She angled her body away from the doorway.
Ye Lan Jue withdrew his gaze. His expression returned to its usual icy depth. Before the Empress entered, he rose silently and slipped away—vanishing with the same ghost‑like speed that always unsettled her.
---
By that same morning, the imperial guards of Kunning Palace were transferred out. The Emperor had appointed them as vanguards and sent them to the military camp.
Tang Ke Xin exhaled in relief.
The Emperor had acted swiftly—too swiftly for this to be a covert scheme of his own. And sending them so far away… that did not align with a hidden plot.
Yet she could not be entirely certain.
Zhan Shou had been personally selected by the Emperor.
The palace was a labyrinth of shadows.
The imperial family even more so.
Truth and falsehood intertwined until one could scarcely tell them apart.
Still—removing the greatest immediate danger was enough for now.
---
Late that night, beneath a canopy of leaves, a man stood shrouded in darkness. Only the faint outline of his figure could be discerned.
"Master… the plan has failed," a trembling voice reported from nearby.
The man did not respond.
"It was Tang Ke Xin. She—"
"Hmph. A fool who suddenly becomes clever," the man interrupted at last. His voice was strange—distant, almost unreal.
"Shall we eliminate her?" the subordinate asked cautiously.
"No rush," the man replied, a faint, chilling amusement threading through his tone. "I wish to see how far her abilities reach."
"And Zhan Yun?" the subordinate ventured. "This move was arranged for him years ago. I did not expect it to be ruined by a woman."
"It matters not," the man said softly. "This becomes… interesting."
His voice faded into the night, leaving only dread behind.
---
The palace bustled with preparations for the annual Mizar Festival banquet. This year's celebration was especially grand—by the Emperor's own decree.
The Empress was overwhelmed with arrangements and had no time to concern herself with Tang Ke Xin.
The Prime Minister's wife had caught a cold and did not attend, so Tang Ke Xin entered the palace alone. Men and women were separated, and she was led by a palace maid to the women's courtyard.
She disliked such gatherings. The idle chatter of noble ladies held no appeal for her. She sat quietly beneath a pavilion, waiting for the banquet to begin.
When the time came, she rose to head toward the hall—
—and found Liu Ruyue walking straight toward her.
Her face had returned to normal.
The poison had been cured.
Tang Ke Xin had no intention of engaging with her, but Liu Ruyue stepped directly into her path.
A dagger flashed in her hand.
She intended to shove it into Tang Ke Xin's palm.
Tang Ke Xin sidestepped easily.
Liu Ruyue's eyes flickered with frustration. Then, without hesitation, she turned the blade and stabbed her own shoulder.
Blood blossomed instantly.
"Ah! Ah! Help me!" Liu Ruyue screamed, clutching her shoulder.
People rushed over at once.
Tang Ke Xin frowned.
This performance was far too clumsy.
Even if Liu Ruyue succeeded in framing her, the consequences would be minimal. Why resort to such theatrics?
"Ah, it hurts! Miss Tang, why did you stab me?" Liu Ruyue cried dramatically. "I only approached because you looked unwell, and you suddenly attacked me!"
The wicked suing the innocent first—
a classic tactic.
But Liu Ruyue's words were too pointed.
Too rehearsed.
"Didn't she say she was cured? How could she do this?"
"She's always been vicious. Think of what she did to Young Master Mu."
"Miss Liu said she was holding a dagger—was this premeditated?"
"This is frightening."
No one had seen what happened.
But Liu Ruyue's accusations, combined with Tang Ke Xin's past reputation, were enough to sway the crowd.
Liu Ruyue lowered her gaze, a smug smile flickering across her lips. She flicked her hand, sending droplets of blood onto Tang Ke Xin's clothes.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes darkened.
Pathetic.
"What is happening here?"
The Empress arrived, her expression tightening at the sight.
Her gaze sharpened when it fell on Liu Ruyue.
"How dare you cause trouble here?"
Liu Ruyue shrank back, trembling pitifully.
"The banquet is about to begin," the Empress said coldly. "Fetch an imperial physician. Tend to her wound. And keep her under watch so she causes no further disturbance."
Her tone made it clear—
this matter would be dealt with later.
She trusted Tang Ke Xin.
She knew Liu Ruyue's nature.
But she could not allow a scandal to erupt before the banquet.
When the Empress looked at Tang Ke Xin, her expression softened. She noticed the blood on her clothes and frowned.
"There is another gown in the Li Palace. Go and change. Return quickly—and do not get into trouble."
"Yes," Aunt Xi said, stepping forward to escort her.
Tang Ke Xin understood.
The Empress had to maintain order.
She could not risk giving others an opportunity to exploit the situation.
Tang Ke Xin said nothing more.
But as she turned to leave, she cast one last glance at Liu Ruyue.
Her smile was cold.
---
After changing her clothes, Tang Ke Xin entered the main hall—
—and immediately sensed that something was wrong.
The atmosphere was tense.
Too tense.
Something had happened.
Something significant.
The moment Tang Ke Xin stepped into the main hall, a ripple passed through the gathered crowd. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. Eyes fixed upon her with varying degrees of curiosity, suspicion, and thinly veiled hostility.
Her gaze swept the hall with quiet sharpness.
In the far corner—half‑hidden behind a decorative screen—stood Liu Ruyue. Her posture was demure, her head slightly bowed, as though she wished to disappear into the shadows. The wound on her shoulder had ceased bleeding, yet it remained conspicuously unbandaged, the dried blood stark against her pale gown.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes darkened.
So she stayed after all.
Before she could take another step, a shrill voice pierced the hall.
"There! It's her!"
A girl of twelve or thirteen—dressed in the ornate silks of a young princess—stared at Tang Ke Xin with wide, indignant eyes. She jabbed a trembling finger in her direction.
"She hurt this princess, stole the secret manual, and then knocked this princess unconscious!"
A collective gasp swept through the hall.
Dozens of eyes turned upon Tang Ke Xin with disbelief, horror, and outrage.
Had she lost her mind?
To harm a princess?
To steal a secret manual?
To knock her unconscious?
Any one of these accusations was enough to condemn her. All three together were tantamount to a death sentence.
The Empress's face drained of colour. Anxiety flickered in her eyes—fear for Tang Ke Xin, fear for the consequences, fear for the storm that was about to break.
The Prime Minister's expression was equally grim. His gaze found Tang Ke Xin's face, filled with worry and helplessness. He knew his daughter's temperament—yet the accusations were too grave to ignore.
Ye Lan Chen looked as though he might leap to his feet at any moment. His eyes darted between Tang Ke Xin and the princess, panic written plainly across his features. He seemed desperate to intervene, yet terrified of making matters worse.
Even the Third Prince—usually composed, aloof, and unreadable—had a shadowed expression. His jaw tightened, and a faint, dangerous chill seeped into the air around him.
The hall was thick with tension.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes narrowed slightly.
She had left for only a moment to change her clothes—yet the entire atmosphere had shifted into chaos.
Hurt the princess?
Knocked her unconscious?
Stolen a secret manual?
Each accusation was more absurd than the last.
And yet… each one was deadly.
Her gaze slid toward Liu Ruyue.
The girl stood motionless, her head bowed, but Tang Ke Xin caught the faintest curl of satisfaction at the corner of her lips.
So this is your next move.
The scene was escalating rapidly—far more dramatically than before.
The stakes were rising.
The players were revealing themselves.
Tang Ke Xin's lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
Very well.
If they wished to put on a performance, she would accompany them—
and she would ensure the final act belonged to her.