116. She Who Came from the Imperial Palace!

By afternoon, the rain had eased considerably. The droplets falling from the eaves no longer flowed in streams but cascaded like strings of pearls. Framed against the goose-yellow gauze curtains inside, the scenery beyond the window took on a refreshing, picturesque quality.

Fang Rulai had not yet risen, though she had moved from the bed in the inner chamber to the daybed by the window in the outer hall. A pure white blanket was spread over the daybed, so soft and warm that she felt no chill from the aftermath of the rain, even without an extra cover. The blanket was large and wide, extending from the daybed all the way to the floor. The floor itself was paved with a type of black stone, its natural, irregular texture slightly raised, ensuring no one would slip.

The sound of the door opening came from behind. She didn't turn, assuming it was Zhu Xishi bringing her lunch. "It had better be braised pork, or I’m not eating."

As she spoke, she wrinkled her nose. Why couldn't she smell the braised pork? She had been low on blood for the past two days and absolutely needed the braised pork to recover. Surely Zhu Xishi wasn't forcing her to diet just because her face had rounded slightly over the last two days?

Fang Rulai turned back in confusion and froze.

At the doorway, two rows of palace maids were filing in. Each carried a red umbrella, connected end-to-end, stretching from the door all the way to the entrance of the flower hall across the courtyard.

In the flower hall, a red figure stood with her back turned. Once the red umbrellas formed a continuous canopy, a maid beside the figure flicked out a roll of red carpet with a crisp "swish." The carpet rolled out all the way to the doorway where Fang Rulai sat, covering the distance perfectly without an inch to spare.

The maid bowed and said, "Princess, please."

A princess? Coming to see her at a time like this? Fang Rulai felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Throughout history, wherever a princess appeared, a subplot of jealousy and rivalry was inevitable. Almost instinctively, a summary of the situation flashed through her mind: She, from the Imperial Palace, has fallen for him, the nouveau riche!

The figure turned elegantly, stepped elegantly, walked elegantly, and came to a stop elegantly. Once still, her face came fully into Fang Rulai’s line of sight. If one word could describe her appearance, it was "elegant."

Her eyebrows were shaped with an elegance that was neither too sharp nor too weak; her lip color possessed an elegance with just the right sheen—neither overbearing nor bland; even her gaze was filled with the elegance of a standard etiquette assembly line—neither sorrowful nor joyful, neither angry nor smiling.

"Miss Fang?" she asked.

It was an elegance that was neither humble nor arrogant, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Fang Rulai remained lounging on the daybed, though her eyes were now filled with the guardedness of one facing a formidable enemy—women fighting over a man were never gentler than men fighting for an empire. On the contrary, because the bloodshed was invisible, it carried a different, more gruesome cruelty.

"The floor is paved with Mongol slate, found only in Northern Mongolia. In my Yaotian Kingdom, only the Zhengde Hall features such flooring. The blanket is a long-haired Persian rug; I have one in my own palace, but it is less than half the size of the one on your bed. The gauze curtains are made of 'Nymph Silk,' of which the world’s finest embroidery workshop produces only one bolt a year. Countless unmarried women in the capital would gladly book it ten years in advance just to have it for their weddings, yet it remains priceless and unattainable."

With every item the princess mentioned, Fang Rulai glanced at it. Honestly, these things no longer drew much of her attention. After witnessing the nouveau riche of Pingcheng throwing gold like dirt, she realized that if a seemingly simple, unadorned courtyard wasn't meticulously decorated inside, the wealthy owner would likely feel he had lost status.

As for the princess detailing everything with such elegant tones—even if one couldn't detect a hint of envy or hatred—one had to be wary. If she didn't care, would she know the origin of every single item by heart?

Fang Rulai’s intuition of danger deepened. She leaned on her elbows, lifting her upper body slightly. "You are..."

She stopped herself before she could finish.

Because the princess across from her suddenly bent her knees and bowed!

What was happening? Fang Rulai was so startled she straightened up completely. Following the usual tropes, even if the princess didn't have her maids scold her for the disrespect of not kneeling, and even if she didn't immediately have her guards seize her for "rebellion and insolence," surely kneeling to her was a bit too much, even for a princess pretending to be humble before a certain wealthy man?

Stunned, the princess spoke again with that same elegance: "The Sixth Princess, Li Yurou, pays her respects to the future Empress!"

"Ugh!" Fang Rulai let out a loud hiccup. She understood "Sixth Princess Li Yurou," but what was this about a future Empress? Please, let it not be what she was thinking!

The Sixth Princess rose naturally. "Someone, close the windows! The future Empress is feeling slightly unwell; it must be from the damp air after the rain."

A maid stepped forward to close the window.

The Sixth Princess arched a brow. "Be careful not to damage the gauze..."

Before she could finish, the maid tugged, and the gauze curtains tore and slid down. The maid didn't even close the window; she turned and knelt. "Princess, forgive me!"

A look of displeasure flitted across the Sixth Princess's face. "This is the noble residence of the future Empress. Why are you begging me?"

The maid looked up at Fang Rulai. "Future Empress, forgive me."

Fang Rulai glanced at the torn gauze, realizing the maid’s intentional act. With a curl of her lip, she mimicked the Sixth Princess’s look of displeasure. "Someone, drag her out and execute her!"

She watched the maid’s face turn deathly pale. Fang Rulai laughed coldly inside. What? She didn't expect a direct execution order? Did she think Fang Rulai was a saint or a pushover? She didn't care much for the gauze, and she wasn't a bloodthirsty person, but if someone provoked her, she had to strike back brilliantly, or she would be suppressed even more severely later.

Fang Rulai scanned the hall at the motionless maids, then looked at the Sixth Princess. "What? Can I, whom the Sixth Princess calls the 'future Empress,' not even command you?"

Before the Sixth Princess could reply, the maid crawled forward on her knees. "Princess, forgive me! Princess, have mercy!" As a maid who had followed the Sixth Princess for two years, she knew her mistress’s nature—she would never accept losing face. Even if the Sixth Princess hadn't intended to kill her, now that Fang Rulai had spoken, the Sixth Princess would certainly follow through to avoid losing the upper hand! "Princess, Prin..."

"Shitao," the Sixth Princess said lightly.

"Yes." Beside her, the maid who had laid the red carpet responded. With a flick of her left hand, she pulled a silver hairpin and, without hesitation, tossed it. The kneeling maid, the word "Princess" still stuck in her throat, was pinned to the spot by the silver hairpin.

The body collapsed, and blood from her throat stained the white long-haired blanket under Fang Rulai’s feet, a shocking sight.

The Sixth Princess waved a hand. "Someone, the blanket is now soiled; how can it stain the future Empress’s daybed? Quickly, remove it and throw it away."

Two maids stepped forward, each grabbing a corner and shaking it with force. Fang Rulai was momentarily jolted into the air. By the time she landed, the white blanket was already in the maids' hands.

One let go and drew a sword, while the other tossed the blanket into the air. With a flurry of sword light, the blanket was shredded into tufts finer than raindrops, scattering across the floor.

Fang Rulai realized the Sixth Princess’s plan as she looked at the floor. The princess had mentioned three items upon entering, and two were already destroyed. It seemed the third would not be spared. No wonder she had been so elegant and calm—she had already calculated that these things were at the end of their lives. Of course she was calm; there would be no more chances to be provoked by them. Fang Rulai grew curious about how the Sixth Princess would handle the third item: the Mongol slate.

Pry it up? The labor was too great, and it was a task of raw strength; the maids, skilled in technique, could hardly manage it. Burn it? It was raining outside; it wouldn't catch fire. Then, the only way was...

"Someone, bring the future Empress a wrap. We depart for the palace!"

Fang Rulai stood up abruptly. Was she being kidnapped to the palace? In her dreams!

Fang Rulai shouted, "Guanyue!" Guanyue’s knife wounds hadn't healed, so she couldn't help Guan Shiyin capture anyone at Qitian Taoist Temple; Fang Rulai had arranged for her and Banxia to swap places temporarily.

Guanyue responded, but she didn't walk out voluntarily—she was pushed out by guards. She wasn't alone; Zhu Xishi and the others left to guard the courtyard were also tied up and brought into the flower hall, including Wangcai.

The Sixth Princess turned to leave. "Shitao, let’s go."

Fang Rulai put on a cloak and followed obediently. Things had changed! Otherwise, how could their small courtyard have been taken over so silently? And by a princess? Where were the Second Prince and Mu Zhijin, who had gone to the palace? Where was Guan Shiyin, who had gone to the temple?

Fang Rulai walked out of the room, deep in thought.

The Sixth Princess stopped at the flower hall. "Tear down this house."

If the house were torn down, the flooring would naturally be destroyed. Tearing down a house was far easier than prying up floorboards.

Fang Rulai nodded to herself. She understood the princess’s nature now: a classic antisocial personality who would rather destroy what she couldn't have than let others possess it.

Fang Rulai stopped looking at the collapsing house. She walked through the corridor of umbrellas and entered the flower hall where the others were bound. As she caught Zhu Xishi’s gaze, she saw her look toward the outer door frame.

Fang Rulai kept her expression neutral as she walked forward. As she crossed the threshold, she feigned a stumble and leaned into a maid following closely behind.

She cried out, "Catch me!" but the maid, who should have helped, pulled her hand back and stepped aside. Fang Rulai slammed hard into the door frame.

Fang Rulai groaned, naturally reaching out to grab the frame.

"—Run to the left after leaving the gate. Zhang Sheng will meet you. Don't worry about us; save one while you can. Wait until you meet up with Guan Shiyin and the others before coming to rescue us."

It was Zhu Xishi’s voice.

The voice was light and fast, left in a moment of extreme urgency. It was fortunate that Fang Rulai was naturally sensitive to sound, or she never would have caught Zhu Xishi’s continuous message.

The Sixth Princess turned back at the sound, but only saw Fang Rulai standing up, clutching her shoulder.

"Shitao, watch her get into the carriage yourself," the Sixth Princess ordered, heading for her own carriage after leaving the gate.

The carriage moved a short distance to the right, and another pulled up to the gate. Shitao lifted the curtain. "Future Empress, please."

Fang Rulai stepped over the threshold, and as she wiped a raindrop from her forehead, she glanced to the left. Sure enough, she saw one of Zhang Sheng’s eyes peering from around a nearby corner.