Chapter 107: The Assassin — On a Moonless, Windy Night
After the morning court session ended, Old General Qin—also known as Lord Qin—and his son, General Qin, who served alongside him at court, walked together, speaking in low voices.
“Father, it looks like the emperor is determined to go after our Qin family,” General Qin said grimly.
Old General Qin stroked his thick, bushy beard and snorted angrily. “This pisses me off! Has that little emperor forgotten that this realm was won by me and the late emperor together? He’s only been on the throne for how long, and he already wants to kick away the ladder after crossing the river?”
General Qin gestured for him to lower his voice and said helplessly, “Father, my dear father, could you speak a bit more quietly? If His Majesty hears this, he’ll surely slap you with the crime of insubordination.”
Old General Qin snorted. “I’ve always had a loud voice. Back in the day, when your old man roared like this, I could scare the enemy troops into pissing themselves.”
General Qin rubbed his forehead. “And you know how many years ago that was. Now the realm is at peace—there’s no enemy army left for you to shout at.”
Then he lowered his voice even more. “Father, this can’t go on. It’s one thing if His Majesty targets old men like us, but Buyao… sigh. It’s my fault as her father—useless, unable to do anything but watch my daughter suffer in the palace.”
If the emperor openly announced that Qin Buyao had been sent to the Cold Palace, they could at least confront him directly and demand an explanation. But now, the emperor had sealed off the news. If they went to him proactively, wouldn’t that be telling him outright that the Qin family had informants in the palace?
General Qin increasingly suspected that the emperor was relying on exactly this to bully his daughter without restraint.
Neither of them dared let the women of the household—the wives and the old matriarch—know about this. Otherwise, the two of them would surely be scolded as useless cowards.
The women of the Qin family were fiercer than the men.
Hearing his son’s words, Old General Qin fell into deep thought. His precious granddaughter, whom he cherished like a treasure in his palm, was being treated so cruelly by the emperor. He truly wanted to spear the emperor through with a single thrust—but he couldn’t. With so many lives in the Qin family depending on him, he couldn’t let a moment of impulse give the young emperor leverage.
Fortunately, the news he’d gathered said that although his precious granddaughter had been sent to the Cold Palace, she was living rather freely there. With that girl Cui Huan by her side, he felt a bit more at ease.
Suddenly, General Qin lowered his voice even further. “Father, the late emperor didn’t have only one son.”
Old General Qin’s eyes flickered. “Son, you mean—”
“Shh. Father, let’s discuss this carefully after we get home.”
—
“I heard His Majesty has been frequenting the harem a lot these past few days?” Nan Xun reclined on a chaise lounge, holding a storybook in her hand, a grape tucked between her lips.
Cui Huan held a small dish up to her mouth, catching the grape seeds she spat out, and huffed. “Yes, Your Ladyship. They say His Majesty’s virility has surged lately—he’s been favoring concubines every night.”
Nan Xun clicked her tongue. “Isn’t the emperor afraid of ruining his kidneys?”
Cui Huan burst out laughing. “Your Ladyship, you’re the only one who’d dare say something like that.”
Then she glanced at the grape seeds in the dish and asked, “Your Ladyship, can these grape seeds really grow into grapevines in the future?”
“They can, but we’ll have to wait until next year to plant them. Wash these, dry them in the sun, and keep them well. When spring comes next year, we’ll plant them.”
“Ah, got it!” Cui Huan responded happily and scampered off to wash the grape seeds.
Nan Xun swayed leisurely in the rocking chair, flipped to the last page of the storybook, skimmed it in one glance, and sighed. “What nonsense. It’s always scholars and fox spirits. What’s even more ridiculous is that the scholar already has a wife and children, yet he still messes around with the fox spirit—and the fox spirit is so generous, saying she doesn’t mind at all. Then they just roll around together.”
As Cui Huan dried the grape seeds, she listened to her mistress’s rambling and couldn’t help laughing. “Your Ladyship, didn’t the book say it? The scholar is handsome as jade and full of talent. It’s normal for women to like him—let alone a fox spirit.”
Nan Xun yawned. “My focus isn’t the scholar, it’s the fox spirit. The book spends so much ink describing how beautiful and seductive she is. If I were that fox spirit, I’d definitely find someone better. He doesn’t have to be extremely handsome or especially talented—those things are useless no matter how good they are. What matters is that he treats me well, dotes on me alone, and has only me.”
As she spoke, her voice grew softer and softer, and those beautiful eyes slowly closed.
Cui Huan lightened her steps, gently took the storybook from her loosely held hand, and found a thin blanket to cover her.
Nan Xun slept straight through until evening. As soon as she woke up, she heard Little Eight nagging, “Sleep, sleep, sleep—keep this up and you’ll really turn into a pig.”
Nan Xun wasn’t ashamed at all—she was proud. “I’m too skinny. I need more sleep to fatten up. Can you find someone who sleeps better than me?”
Little Eight: “……”
Well-rested, Nan Xun wanted something to do, so she rolled up her sleeves and went to the kitchen herself.
Although it was the Cold Palace, it still had a small kitchen. Nan Xun picked some locust blossoms, planning to make locust blossom cakes.
Cui Huan stared at her with starry eyes. “Your Ladyship, how come this servant didn’t know you could make things like this?”
Nan Xun put on a pitiful face. “I can’t, actually. I’m just messing around. There hasn’t been much to eat lately, and I’m craving something.”
Cui Huan immediately burst into tears. “It’s all this servant’s fault for being useless—not even able to make pastries. Tomorrow I’ll sneak into the Imperial Kitchen and steal a couple of cakes!”
Nan Xun: “……For the sake of our lives, let’s shelve that idea for now, okay?” She patted Cui Huan’s head.
Cui Huan said “oh” and abandoned the thought.
After the mistress and servant finished eating, Cui Huan heated water, preparing to help her mistress bathe.
The wooden bathtub was filled with locust blossoms, their fragrance permeating the room. Outside the window, it was a moonless, windy night.
Nan Xun quickly stripped off her palace dress and stepped into the tub. The warm water touching her skin made her sigh in comfort.
“Your Ladyship, this servant will scrub your back.”
Cui Huan took a ladle and a bath cloth, pouring water over Nan Xun’s back and gently rubbing.
The atmosphere was perfect—until suddenly, Cui Huan’s hand froze. She sprang to her feet and shouted sharply toward the window, “Who’s there?!”
Nan Xun’s half-closed eyes flew open. She leapt out of the tub and snatched a cloak from the rack, wrapping it tightly around herself.
In that split second—almost the very moment Nan Xun finished wrapping the cloak—a black-clad figure suddenly smashed through the window, a longsword thrusting straight toward her.
Cui Huan’s expression changed drastically. She lunged forward to block the attack, but the intruder’s sword was merely a feint. Before Cui Huan could reach Nan Xun, the blade was already pressed against Cui Huan’s throat.
From the very beginning, his target had been Cui Huan.
“A loyal little maid, I see,” the man sneered.
He wore a fitted black robe, his figure tall and straight. His face was concealed behind an exquisite silver mask. A pair of narrow, sharp eyes glinted from within the mask. Beneath it, half of a straight nose was visible, and thin lips pressed lightly together. Because of that sneer just now, his lips curved slightly—cold, yet carrying a wicked, seductive allure.
