Murong Yunxi’s question hung in the air like a thrown gauntlet. Wei Dongling glanced at her without committing to an answer, then rubbed the bridge of her nose—she still bore the bruise from the last time it had been struck.
Sweat beaded on Murong Yunxi’s brow. She was terrified Wei might do something to her twelfth brother. Warily, she watched Wei like a woman facing a predator and said, “If Your Highness wants the Meteor Blade, you may have it. But you must promise me one thing—you must see that the Twelfth Prince is kept safe and grows to adulthood in good health. If you agree, I’ll send for the blade right now.”
Having grown up amid the palace’s webs of scheming and betrayal, Murong Yunxi could not shake the fear that her own blood might be targeted.
Wei Dongling gave a short, amused laugh. “Of course. He is my brother—how could I allow anyone to harm him?” She had no intention of persecuting the child, and the Rong Consort and her two children had never laid a hand on her. Still, hearing Wei’s words, Murong Yunxi remained unconvinced. She jumped up and cried out, “Then issue the order! Command everyone in the palace to see that the Twelfth Prince is protected and grows up safe.”
Wei covered her lips and laughed softly. So even the petulant, spoiled Seventh Princess had a soft spot.
Lamei snorted coldly. “You really think the Fifth Princess would stoop so low as to harm a child of three?”
Murong Yunxi froze. Had she been overreacting?
Wei waved a hand. “Very well—I’ll agree.” She summoned Lamei to the inner court to deliver the instruction.
Only when Lamei hurried off did Murong Yunxi finally relax enough to have the Meteor Blade brought forward. Wei took the hilt into her hand and stood to leave. Walking back to the Yao Guang Pavilion alone, she tilted her head and watched the speckled night sky. The blade’s handle was cool to the touch, and the chill steadied her.
She remembered the night she’d lost at the horse race and gone to the prince’s residence to repay the IOU. Shangguan Yun had ordered Pinhao to bring the Meteor Blade and present it to her. He’d been soaked, white robes clinging to him like new-fallen snow; water ran through his silk hair. He had approached with the quiet confidence of a gentleman, and in that moment the world seemed to dim around him.
At one time she had traded the Meteor Blade for an exit token. Now, perched on memory, the blade had become the only tether left to that past.
Shadows moved along the palace wall. Jingzhe and Pinhao swept over it and came to a respectful halt before her.
“What news?” Wei asked at once. “Have you found him?”
Jingzhe shook his head. “Xiangge Pavilion and Yun Zhu Cottage are empty—cleared out before the late emperor’s passing. I sent men up to Yan Gu Mountain, but there was no trace of Young Master Yu.”
Wei breathed out a thin, private sigh. The conspirators based at Yan Gu Mountain had likely planned this carefully. Aside from He Jingyao, who’d been locked up, everyone else had vanished—Ruochen and Tian Qi among them. They had been scrubbed clean from the city as if they’d never existed.
Pinhao, who’d been combing the streets with the Imperial Guards, came forward to report, “Young Master Yu’s outposts in the suburbs were likewise emptied—everyone withdrew. That left Miss Qi unattended. I took the liberty of bringing her to the Su residence.”
Wei’s surprise showed. Pinhao had acted on his own and brought Qi Jinxuan back to Su Manor? What if the girl tried to kill herself, or slipped poison into her own throat? Besides, Lvkou was still at the Su residence.
Pinhao hurried to explain, “After the Qi household was ransacked, Miss Qi was left with nowhere to go, and she’s with child. I felt sorry for her and thought she might find comfort in being near family—near Miss Qi Jinlan. I only meant to offer her some protection.”
Wei’s frown deepened. When they’d all been under the general’s roof, Qi Jinxuan had looked down on Qi Jinlan for being timid; she’d never once regarded the other girl with any warmth. Now, pregnant and abandoned, soft-hearted Qi Jinxuan’s pride would be in pieces. How would the two manage under the same roof? If Qi Jinxuan saw Lvkou there, she would surely lash out. Wei did not want Lvkou to suffer another moment.
“Bring several palace maids and attendants to Su Manor to look after her,” Wei told Pinhao. “And bring Lvkou and Qi Jinlan into the palace—there are other duties I’ll assign them.”
Pinhao bowed and left.
Early the next morning, Wei Dongling and Minister Li Bo convened the council in Tai Chi Hall. The consensus was damning: Murong Yunqian—who had supposedly poisoned and murdered the late emperor—had schemed to seize power, and countless people had died for it. Such a crime cried out for an exemplary punishment; many called for a public execution to soothe the people’s outrage.
Murong Xuan let out a discontented sigh. “We’re still in official mourning. Executing someone right now will leave the old ministers with plenty to grumble about.” The elders protested that capital punishment during a national period of mourning was inappropriate, and the court had been locked in argument for days.
The Ninth Prince sat in silence, the bandage still wrapped around his head. He turned his attention to Murong Xuan and asked, “Brother Xuan, what do you think should be done?”
The court was stunned that the Ninth Prince kept deferring to Murong Xuan on everything; Murong Xuan was visibly flustered by the pressure.
Lady Ruan spoke up, quiet and cold. “This is simple. Let him taste his own medicine. I have substances that will make the Tenth Prince wish he were dead. If he can barely hold on through the mourning period, that will serve.”
Wei’s face lit with unabashed pleasure. “Then what are we waiting for? Send for the poison now.”
A hush fell over the chamber.
At that moment the doors burst open and Lamei rushed in, breathless.
The Ninth Prince disliked being fussed over and seldom tolerated company while matters of state were discussed. Since Eunuch Cao had been imprisoned, the young palace attendants who served before him had become skittish—none dared interrupt when he was in session. Only Lamei, plucked from the harem and confident in the Fifth Princess’s favor, dared barge in.
Kneeling before the Ninth Prince, she shouted, “Your Highness! The Prince of Xiliang is at the gate again. He refuses to leave—says he must see you, to see the Fifth Princess!”
Luo Xunlong’s brow pinched. “That Li Mingyang has been gathering men and helping the Tenth Prince with his crimes—murder, arson, poisoning, even treason. After committing such acts, how dare he loiter at our door? Send Yu Mo to have him chased off.”
Yu Mo had once served the Prince of Rui. After the political tide turned, he rushed before the throne to show repentance; Murong Xuan had spoken a few kind words in his favor and he had been allowed to remain as an armed escort at court.