Chapter 57
When Miss Yanran said that, Mu Qing felt an immediate sense of dread.
So this was what they meant by “when it rains, it pours.”
Still, considering she had just survived that last ordeal unscathed, there wasn’t much left to fear—whatever was coming probably wouldn’t be worse than what she’d just been through.
She glanced at her husband, who was still clinging to her like a koala, and coughed awkwardly. “Husband, perhaps… you could let go? We’re already at the inn. Let’s head inside first, shall we?”
Hearing this, her husband reluctantly let go of one hand, but the other still held onto hers tightly, making her start to wonder whether this was still the same cold and aloof man she had married.
Had he been possessed by someone else?
The thought flashed through Mu Qing’s mind but quickly disappeared as something more pressing caught her attention.
Miss Yanran also had no time for trivial matters. Normally, she’d have already teased them about how clingy her “little brother” was being, but this time she didn’t even mention it.
In fact, it was like she hadn’t even seen it. Her brows were furrowed, her expression filled with concern and even a trace of fear—it was obvious that something serious had happened.
And it had to be something extremely troublesome.
After all, Miss Yanran was a very capable woman.
If nothing else, the intelligence gathered from all the brothels under her control was already an impressive resource. Otherwise, Liu Feng wouldn’t have kept entangling himself with her and eventually brought her into his harem—not just because of her charm and allure, but more importantly because she was a beautiful asset, a woman of use.
So now, for a woman like her to wear this expression, it meant the issue at hand was no small matter.
Mu Qing made a quick decision and didn’t bother fussing over whether her husband let go of her hand or not—if disaster was about to strike, he could hold on as much as he liked.
Thus, with Miss Yanran leading the way, Mu Qing followed behind, hand in hand with her husband, heading upstairs to the room they were using on the second floor of the inn.
Ying Thirteen trailed them at a short distance. Though injured, he could still walk. Mu Qing had already asked about his injuries the moment they met.
He kept saying it was nothing, but she remained skeptical.
She didn’t know martial arts and had no concept of internal or external injuries. She only knew that she had seen Ying Thirteen many times before, and never once had he looked this battered.
Which meant, whoever he had encountered… must have been formidable.
And from both her husband’s and Ying Thirteen’s reactions, it seemed this attacker was somehow related to them.
Most likely, this had to do with those men from the palace.
After all, why else would she, of all people, warrant the dispatch of such high-level assassins?
That said, it didn’t seem like the intention had been to kill her—but rather to disrupt her husband and Miss Yanran’s plans.
Even though she’d returned unharmed, something had indeed happened.
Once they were upstairs, Mu Qing quickly understood what Miss Yanran was so upset about.
Apparently, while her husband and Ying Thirteen had gone out looking for her, someone had delivered a letter.
The envelope looked plain, nothing out of the ordinary.
What was extraordinary was the paper—it came from the imperial palace. Mu Qing could tell just by the texture of the paper, even if she’d never seen it before.
She owed that to her years as a seasoned merchant—she hadn’t eaten pork, but she’d seen pigs run. Something this refined and elegant clearly wasn’t ordinary.
One glance, and she guessed its origin. Yet Miss Yanran, her husband, and even Ying Thirteen all reacted with calm expressions, clearly familiar with it.
Mu Qing was quietly amazed but said nothing. Seeing how grave their expressions were, she didn’t pry. After all, she was just an “innocent bystander” caught up in their drama—she wasn’t supposed to be involved in the first place.
At least, that had been her intention.
That’s why she had once tried to play the role of the cold-hearted “scumbag woman”—when her husband had bared his feelings, she had forced herself to coldly walk away. That kind of hardcore emotional shutdown wasn’t something most women could pull off.
Given another chance, she still wouldn’t have done it differently.
Because after all the twists and turns, she had ended up bound to her husband and his faction anyway… so what exactly had she been trying to avoid?
Reflecting on this, Mu Qing resolved to step up—after all, a salted fish could still have moments of fiery passion.
Although, those moments were rare. If not for matters of life and death, who didn’t want to lie down comfortably and be a rich, happy salted fish?
A salted fish… with money.
That had been her dream in her previous life.
Now that it was almost within reach, suddenly life threw her another plot twist… Fine then. A contract signed is a contract to be honored—even if she had to cry through it.
Only about three months left now?
As she silently calculated the countdown in her head, Mu Qing still managed to refocus and join the conversation between her husband and Miss Yanran.
At this point, it was clear—the enemy had issued a challenge.
What they knew: the letter came from the imperial palace. Most likely sent by someone on the side of the Second or Third Prince.
Because her husband’s faction supported the Fourth Prince—though she still remembered how strange their reactions were last time she brought it up. Miss Yanran had laughed hysterically, and her husband had looked… weird. But since neither denied it, it must be true.
Fighting for the throne had always been a bloody business. So it was no surprise that their enemies were starting to make moves.
A single blank letter was more than enough.
It declared their identity and delivered a warning—sometimes, saying nothing was more terrifying than saying everything.
Because if there were even one sentence, at least you’d have a clue. But with nothing? Not even Miss Yanran, with her vast intelligence network, could make a move. No wonder she was at a loss.
Compared to Miss Yanran’s anxiety, Mu Qing’s confusion, and Ying Thirteen’s silence, her husband seemed completely calm.
In fact, he was always this calm. And it was exactly that unshakable calm that made others feel like everything was under control. Once things calmed down, ideas came easier—Mu Qing now realized her husband might actually be a brilliant leader.
This leadership aura… was impressive.
Steady, reliable, never overbearing—just being near him made you want to work harder.
Mu Qing thought to herself, maybe this sudden shift in her attitude wasn’t just due to the brush with death… perhaps it really was his influence?
She felt a tangle of emotions.
Still, it didn’t stop her from observing everyone else.
Too bad the other two showed no reaction.
So the three of them simply sat staring at the blank palace stationery. Her husband was the only one who didn’t look surprised at all.
He picked up the letter, studied it for a moment, and just when Mu Qing thought he might sit there thinking for half an hour, he moved.
He set the letter down and instructed Ying Thirteen, “Go see if there’s any news from the palace.”
Ying Thirteen acknowledged and quietly left the room.
He made no sound. But just before leaving, he bowed politely to Mu Qing, which made her a little embarrassed—this was starting to feel too formal. If this kept up, what would happen when they had to “divorce” in a few months?
She drifted for a second, and her hand was suddenly gripped—it was her husband again.
Apparently unhappy with her distraction, he squeezed just hard enough to draw her focus without hurting her.
Mu Qing was speechless, but quickly smiled apologetically and said, “Ah, husband, please continue.”
Seeing her respond so cooperatively, his expression softened, and he said, “This matter arose because of me… it’s my fault for implicating you, my lady.”
The sudden formal apology left Mu Qing briefly stunned.
Of course, she had already guessed as much. But hearing it directly from him was… something else.
It was like all her grievances were suddenly soothed. She knew it was a standard trick, but she still felt touched—her husband really was more formidable than she had thought.
Not only was he devastatingly handsome, but also incredibly capable. What a rare man.
Mu Qing once again marveled at her luck—she’d casually stumbled into a top-tier business partner. But it also made her reassess the current situation.
If all of this had happened earlier…
If she had cut ties with her husband quickly enough, maybe she’d have stayed out of all this. Liu Feng’s threat had basically vanished—after marrying her cousin Yan Hong, and losing Qin Qin and Miss Yanran, he was down and out.
Of course, Mu Qing was sure he’d stir up trouble again. It was his story world, after all. Even if the plot collapsed, he’d find a way back. Protagonist privilege, after all.
But even so, that was future trouble.
After all this, Mu Qing had come to understand—whether it was Liu Feng or someone else, there was no need to be afraid.
As long as she stayed true to herself, she could navigate even the most twisted storylines.
If she had ended the contract earlier, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten involved in this mess.
Too bad. No going back now.
And even if she had ended things earlier, it wasn’t like that would have completely severed the connection. After all, they were “husband and wife” once. No matter how powerful her husband’s family was, the palace people were on another level—they had their own hands full.
Mu Qing had read enough novels to know how this went—power struggles over the throne meant blood, death, and sacrifice.
Even in the original story, Mu Qing and her young son were used as sacrificial pawns on Liu Feng’s path to power—offered up by his enemies to hurt him. And back then, Liu Feng was already a high-ranking official, with plenty of enemies.
Which made her wonder—were those enemies from the palace, too?
Back then, Liu Feng had chosen the right faction, hadn’t he? Unless… her meddling had derailed the plot?
Had the original villains switched sides?
As this occurred to her, Mu Qing drifted again. She must’ve flinched reflexively, because her husband tightened his grip on her hand.
That snapped her right back.
She turned her head and found both him and Miss Yanran staring at her. Especially her husband, who, though expressionless, clearly wasn’t pleased.
Mu Qing sighed and quickly reassured them. “Sorry, I just remembered something.”
Miss Yanran took her seriously. “What did you remember, Miao-niang?”
Mu Qing hesitated. She couldn’t exactly say, “We’re all fictional characters in a novel, and I’ve wrecked the plot.”
She wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead and carefully explained her concern.
In short, if she remembered correctly, the Fourth Prince never became emperor.
In fact, the original story didn’t even mention him.
If they’d all chosen the wrong side… were they doomed?
But what if this Fourth Prince, who didn’t exist in the original plot, was like her—a “random disruptor”?
If he ended up as the unexpected winner, then by revealing the original victor, she’d be doing more harm than good.
That was the dilemma she’d wrestled with since learning her husband and Miss Yanran were involved in the succession struggle.
Say nothing, and they might die from picking the wrong prince.
Say too much, and they might die anyway.
All thanks to this mysterious Fourth Prince who had messed up the entire storyline.
Fortunately, after days of mulling it over, Mu Qing had a plan—investigate first.
She had thought about meeting the Fourth Prince directly but decided that was too risky. Better to approach indirectly.
With that, she asked, “What sort of person is the Third Prince?”
With this question, she had clearly stepped into their circle. Her husband was visibly surprised—and then a flicker of joy crossed his face. Subtle, but for someone as stoic as him, it was significant.
Even Miss Yanran looked momentarily stunned, then regarded Mu Qing with a complicated expression.
It was also the first time Mu Qing wondered… did Miss Yanran perhaps—?
She didn’t get to finish the thought, as her husband’s next words grabbed her attention.
“Why the Third Prince?”
He stared at her, waiting for an answer.
Whatever he was expecting, Mu Qing’s response definitely wasn’t it.
She said bluntly, “It just doesn’t sit right with me that he supports the Second Prince so willingly.”
That stunned even Miss Yanran. “You don’t know? The Third and Second Princes—don’t you know their relationship?”
Mu Qing thought, How would I know? I’m not a palace consort or court lady. How could I possibly know what’s going on with these princes?
She joked lightly, “They’re not… relatives or master and servant, right?”
She had meant it to ease the tension, because she noticed the entire conversation had begun to revolve around her.
But to her shock, the joke was actually true.
Miss Yanran replied, “You really are clever, Miao-niang. The Third Prince’s mother was originally the Second Prince’s mother’s maidservant. They grew up together—more like sisters than servant and mistress.”
“The two princes are close in age. Back then, the imperial concubine was pregnant and didn’t want to share the emperor’s favor, so she sent her maid to him instead…”
So there was a backstory like this.
No wonder the ending turned out so strange.
Mu Qing silently watched as the two of them began analyzing the power dynamics among the princes—she felt worse and worse.
And then things got worse still.
Her husband suddenly asked her a strange question.
“Why are you so interested in the Third Prince, Miao-niang?”
Miss Yanran added, “Yes, why? Shouldn’t we be more concerned about the Second Prince? He’s the strongest contender for the throne right now.”
Mu Qing gave a wry smile. If only you two knew the original plot, you’d understand.
Because this seemingly unremarkable, low-born, dependent-on-the-Second-Prince Third Prince… was actually the dark horse who became emperor.
It was during his time being overlooked, wandering the palace, that he met Liu Feng. And that fateful encounter led to Liu Feng’s rise—even though it cost him his firstborn and his wife.
But he got stronger.
To be on the same side as the future emperor? That was quite the ride.
Too bad.
Mu Qing wasn’t going to let that plotline play out.
There was no way she’d let her cousin Yan Hong—or her cousin’s future child—be sacrificed.
So the best move now might be…
“If that’s the case, then… is it too late for our Fourth Prince to withdraw from the succession struggle?”
The moment she said this, her husband and Miss Yanran both froze.
Was this something people could say so casually?
Yet Mu Qing had said it.
And she wasn’t done—“Just wait a little while, and you’ll understand why.”
