Chapter 128: Fear — Eyes Filled with Hatred
“Yaoyao, I truly love you. I really didn’t send these assassins! Please believe me, all right?”
Yan Mohan tried to step forward, but the sword resting at his neck suddenly pressed down. A sharp pain flared as the blade cut a thin line across his throat, drawing blood.
Yan Mohan stared at the woman before him in disbelief.
The pain at his neck made it unmistakably clear—if he had taken even one more step just now, Qin Buyao might truly have slit his throat.
At that moment, he was afraid.
He was not afraid of death—after all, he had already died once.
What he feared was Qin Buyao’s gaze.
She truly hated him, hated him so much that she wished she could kill him on the spot.
“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” Nan Xun sneered. “Your Majesty, could it be that today is the first day you’ve met me, Qin Buyao?”
Her eyes and her words were full of mockery. “Now that Your Majesty has toyed with me enough, can you just kill me already? If you still want to see me suffer unbearably, then get the hell out of my Chimu Palace first. Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from stabbing a sword straight through your chest—and then slitting my own throat!”
Yan Mohan’s expression changed drastically. He shouted, “Yaoyao, don’t be impulsive! I’ll leave— I’ll leave right now!”
He left step by step, turning back again and again. Soon, several dark figures entered silently, disposing of the bodies in the courtyard without a sound. Even the bloodstains on the ground were cleaned until not a trace remained.
The courtyard fell utterly silent, as though everything that had just happened was nothing more than a dream of Nan Xun’s— as though nothing had occurred at all.
But Nan Xun knew that once some things happened, they happened. There was no going back.
Cui Huan burst into loud sobs. She clearly could not accept this reality—how could Yan Han, Young Master Yan, who doted on her mistress so dearly, suddenly turn out to be the emperor?
Then all those times they had bad-mouthed the emperor in front of Young Master Yan—did they look like clowns from an opera in his eyes?
Was this really the emperor playing with Her Ladyship’s feelings? Then what was her mistress supposed to do?
Nan Xun patted the little maid’s shoulder and said calmly, “I’m fine. It’s already very late. Let’s go on sleeping.”
Cui Huan sniffed as she watched her mistress walk into the inner hall as if nothing had happened, then lie down on the bed fully clothed.
How heartbroken must she be, to pretend she didn’t care about anything at all? Was her heart bleeding inside?
After what had just happened, Nan Xun felt utterly exhausted in both body and mind. She lay on the bed, breathing lightly.
Little Eight quickly asked, “Darling, are you really okay? I feel like your emotions are a bit off.”
Nan Xun explained, “I’m fine. I just got too deep into the role and couldn’t come out of it right away.”
She imagined that Qin Buyao had truly loved Yan Han to the point of life and death—and then, at that very moment, his identity was exposed. Her emotional collapse would have been inevitable.
“Damn it, Little Eight,” Nan Xun said. “If I really were Qin Buyao, do you think I’d fall in love with the emperor? My emotions just now were really bad—I genuinely wanted to kill someone.”
Little Eight said, “…Uh, didn’t you say the emperor is a scumbag? I think Qin Buyao falling in love with him would’ve been inevitable. But luckily, you’re not Qin Buyao.”
Nan Xun yawned and, after turning over once, fell asleep.
Little Eight: …
What a big heart.
Nan Xun was still speculating about what Yan Mohan would do next when, to her surprise, a eunuch arrived the very next day to read out an imperial edict.
Beauty Qin was restored to the rank of Noble Consort and was to move into Pengyue Palace immediately.
Surrounded like the moon by stars—aside from the vacant Fengming Palace, Pengyue Palace was the closest palace to the emperor’s residence, Longming Palace.
After reading the edict, Eunuch Wang Shun respectfully handed it to Nan Xun and reminded her in a low voice, “Your Ladyship, please do not fail to appreciate His Majesty’s goodwill.”
Nan Xun laughed softly. “Thank you for the reminder, Eunuch Wang. It’s just that this Cold Palace is rather shabby, and I have nothing suitable to offer you. If you don’t mind, you may come inside for a cup of tea before leaving.”
Eunuch Wang smiled politely. “Your Ladyship flatters me. It is this servant’s honor to read the imperial edict for you. Your Ladyship should hurry and pack up and move over as soon as possible. The sturdy eunuchs behind me are at your disposal— from now on, they will be the attendants of your Pengyue Palace.”
Nan Xun nodded. “Thank you for making the trip, Eunuch Wang.”
After a few more courteous exchanges, Eunuch Wang left, keeping only several strong eunuchs behind to help.
Cui Huan looked reluctant. “Your Ladyship, this servant doesn’t want to leave this place. Once we’re gone, who will water the trees and flowers in the courtyard? Will they wither and die?”
“There’s nothing to be done,” Nan Xun said. “Once the emperor issues an edict, no one dares to disobey.”
Cui Huan couldn’t hear any joy or anger in her mistress’s voice and felt uneasy.
What was the emperor playing at? Hadn’t he done enough already? Was he now keeping Her Ladyship right under his nose so he could humiliate her at any time?
“Cui Huan, go pack up all the flower tea we brewed. You don’t need to carry it—have the eunuchs outside move it for us. And take all the things you’re used to from the small kitchen as well. Oh, right!” Nan Xun paused, then added without the slightest embarrassment, “Take that bathtub with us too.”
Cui Huan opened her mouth, clearly not understanding her mistress’s thinking.
Was she clinging to objects to vent her hatred?
There really wasn’t much to pack. Nan Xun left decisively, while Cui Huan kept turning back every few steps, her face full of reluctance.
Little Eight snorted. “You heartless woman, leaving so cleanly. You’ve lived here for more than half a year—aren’t you even a little attached?”
Nan Xun yawned. “What’s there to be attached to? In Pengyue Palace there’ll be a softer bed and better tea. In the future, Cui Huan won’t even need to pour tea or pound my back—she’ll be my chief attendant.”
Little Eight: …
Suddenly felt unable to refute that.
The newly occupied Pengyue Palace was indeed extravagantly luxurious. Even the tables were made of purple-gilt lacquered wood, and the hidden patterns embroidered on the bed curtains were woven with gold thread—lavish to a shocking degree.
Even the number of attendants had increased by eight in total: four maids and four eunuchs.
At first, Cui Huan worried that the emperor might be setting traps for her mistress, but unexpectedly, for several days in a row, the emperor never appeared. She thoroughly enjoyed her role as chief attendant, training the little maids and eunuchs until they were completely obedient.
Nan Xun watched her show her authority from the side, greatly amused.
Little Eight grew anxious. “You didn’t offend the big boss too badly, did you? Why hasn’t he come to see you?”
Nan Xun leisurely cracked sunflower seeds and replied, “He’s just giving me enough time to calm down. Besides, he was badly injured last time—these days he’s recuperating.”
As she said this, Nan Xun’s eyes lowered slightly.
Little Eight asked, “Darling, have you calmed down then?”
Nan Xun replied, “I have. When he comes next time, I won’t scold him.”
Little Eight believed her words without question.
It was only when the emperor actually came that Little Eight realized—Nan Xun’s words had indeed been very trustworthy, but she had never finished the second half of that sentence at all.
