Chapter 3: Dragging Out the Culprit

When he suddenly asked that question, the people around him didn’t immediately react. Once they did, Consort Liang softly replied, “This banquet today isn’t a grand affair, so I only invited the daughters and sons of a few ministers, thinking they could keep the princes and princesses company.”

Seeing that Yin Mingyu showed no particular reaction, Consort Liang glanced at the palace maid Bai Hui beside her, signaling her to speak.

Bai Hui immediately knelt and continued, “In reply to His Majesty: today, Her Ladyship invited the second young master and third young miss of the General’s Manor, the daughter of the Minister’s household, the young ladies from the Marquis of Anping’s and Marquis of Wenyuan’s residences. However, the second young miss of the Marquis of Anping’s household claimed she was unwell and did not attend. Only the eldest young miss came. Aside from that, also present is someone from the Earl of Nanan’s household…”

After listening to the palace maid’s report, Yin Mingyu had already made up his mind. Excluding the second young miss of the Marquis of Anping’s household, no other young lady was missing.

Looks like his guess was right—she really was a timid girl, too frightened to appear again. But it was odd. If she truly was the second young miss of the Marquis of Anping, why would she sneak out dressed as a maid that night? Was she simply being playful, or was there another purpose?

The music below paused briefly, then resumed with the third princess playing the zither.

Yin Mingyu had run out of patience. After listening to the entire song, he turned his head to Consort Li and offered a lukewarm compliment: “Ruo’er plays quite well. Let her have that zither.”

As for the second princess, he didn’t mention her at all.

Not only did the second princess look miserable, but even Consort Liang turned pale. Seeing that Yin Mingyu was about to leave, she quickly composed herself and stood to respectfully see him off.

There was no such thing as familial affection in the imperial household. As the princes and princesses gradually came of age, the Emperor, in their eyes, was like a towering mountain—one to be revered and feared. Regardless of his temperament, even if he were a kind father, he must first be a ruler. What’s more, beneath the Emperor’s gentle appearance was a cold and ruthless nature.

The Empress seat remained unfilled, and the imperial consorts vied fiercely for favor, each hoping to secure that central position. But the Emperor had never given any clear sign, and no one could guess his intentions.

After Yin Mingyu departed, Consort Li rose, smiling as she praised the third princess before the others, reminding her not to become arrogant and to keep practicing diligently.

The third princess accepted the praise with joy.

But for every person who rejoices, another is troubled.

Inside the pavilion, Ning Zhaorou was feeling drowsy. There hadn’t been any news reaching her ears, which should have reassured her. But every time she closed her eyes, the danger of the previous night replayed in her mind. On top of that, Ning Wanqing’s earlier words had frightened her even more, making it hard to sleep. Just as she was finally starting to drift off, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the curtains.

The person who came was unfamiliar, but what they said sent a chill straight to the heart.

Shuangwu, stunned, accepted the wooden box from them. Watching the figure disappear into the distance and feeling a cool breeze rush in, she finally snapped out of it and let the curtain fall.

Back inside, she walked around the screen and saw Ning Zhaorou huddled obediently under the covers, her eyes red and full of panic. She looked at Shuangwu, then at the box in her hands, asking, “What is that? Who brought it?”

“Miss… it was a palace maid from the Emperor’s side. She said it was something for you,” Shuangwu replied, clutching the box as if it weighed a thousand pounds. It was all she could do to hold it, let alone Ning Zhaorou. She didn’t even dare to look inside.

They’d known that the Emperor would investigate what happened last night, but they hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

Ning Zhaorou slowly got out of bed, nervously staring toward the screen, fearing someone might burst in from behind the curtain at any moment.

But no one did. The palace maid had left immediately after delivering the item.

The wooden box was placed on the bed. Ning Zhaorou opened it, and inside was a familiar strip of white cloth, lying quietly within the box.

Ning Zhaorou’s expression instantly changed as she recalled how that white cloth had ended up being left behind.

Though she wasn’t yet eighteen, her figure had already matured. Among the noble young ladies in the capital, it was said that one should always carry herself with dignity. She herself had a naturally stunning and alluring appearance, and with her slightly prominent chest, she attracted even more attention. So she had come up with her own method—wrapping a cloth around her chest. Though it was uncomfortable, the results were effective enough to boost her confidence when walking around.

But after all, wrapping cloth wasn’t a foolproof method. If she moved around too much, the binding would often come loose. That’s what happened last night. During her struggle, her sash had been undone, and she hadn’t dared to make a sound. She was groped all over and had the cloth strip violently yanked off. Everyone said His Majesty was a gentle and benevolent ruler—then who was that man she met last night?

He was more terrifying than a wild beast!

And now that cloth had been returned to her by someone from the Emperor’s side—yet no other message came with it.

Ning Zhaorou swallowed hard and looked up at Shuangwu with desperate hope in her eyes. “Do you think… this means His Majesty wants to pretend it never happened?”

Shuangwu wanted to comfort her and say yes, but she knew full well that was impossible. Rather than pretending it hadn’t happened, this was more like a warning—a reminder to her young mistress that His Majesty already knew who she was and that she had better obediently go and confess.

Seeing that Shuangwu didn’t respond, Ning Zhaorou’s eyes reddened. She closed the wooden box and lay facedown on the pillow, quietly sobbing.

“Miss, don’t cry… please don’t cry. There must still be a way out of this—”

But Ning Zhaorou was far from clever. After what had happened last night, she’d been too scared to even eat. What way out could there possibly be?

“You heard it too… that Consort Fang was beaten to death. How am I supposed to survive?”

Consort Fang had at least served the Emperor for some time, yet she was still punished to death by flogging. Last night, Ning Zhaorou had even kicked the Emperor while escaping. How could she possibly live?

It wasn’t as if she’d done it on purpose—she had just panicked in the moment. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. Later, once she’d run far enough, she realized what she’d done—but it was already too late.

Shuangwu was also in a panic, pacing anxiously in the room and trying to think of a solution. Suddenly, something came to her.

She rushed to the bedside and whispered urgently, “Miss, have you forgotten? There’s still Young General Chu!”

Ning Zhaorou froze mid-sob. She wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve and asked, “Him? He might be someone of note, but if not for him, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

That was a bit of a stretch, but she was feeling so miserable that she couldn’t help blaming Chu Changfeng just a little.

“Given the circumstances, why not be honest with His Majesty?” Shuangwu suggested. “Tell him you and Young General Chu are already betrothed, and that night it was just a misunderstanding—you stumbled into the wrong tent by mistake.”

She figured, no matter what, His Majesty wouldn’t take another man’s fiancée… would he?

Ning Zhaorou had no better ideas. Even if she only had a sliver of hope, she was desperate enough to cling to it—so long as she could survive this.

But this plan required Chu Changfeng to cooperate.

Would he agree?

And even if he did… how was she supposed to explain all of this to him?

Ning Zhaorou felt as if her mind were a tangled mess of threads—completely impossible to unravel.