After entering the abusive novel, I became the empress - chapter 2

Qin Yuqing quietly waited for Madam Chen to finish speaking. Then, with a soft clap of her hands, she looked at the old woman with a smile of approval.

“Not to hide it from Madam Chen, but I, too, am curious. How could this maid have known such a thing? Surely a birthdate and horoscope couldn’t have grown legs and walked over on their own?”

Chuntao swayed where she stood, mumbling over and over again that the straw-doll talisman was made by her. She looked dazed—simple-minded.

So coincidental? Just when Qin Yuqing wanted to question her about the horoscope, the girl went stupid. The timing was far too neat.

“Your Majesty, no matter who made it, this concerns the safety of the princes and princesses. It must be thoroughly investigated before we can rest at ease.” Madam Chen was indeed a veteran of the deep palace—her heart’s defenses were far harder to breach than Chuntao’s.

But no matter. Who was Qin Yuqing? She had once been a modern-day chairwoman. There was no person and no occasion she hadn’t faced.

“Mother, I feel Madam Chen speaks with reason. Regardless of the outcome, I only ask that you permit me to spend three days in the temple, chanting scriptures and praying for everyone’s peace.”

She followed Madam Chen’s words instead of evading responsibility. Whoever had ordered Chuntao to harm her, the straw doll had still been found in her own quarters. She had to shoulder some of the blame.

“Granted.” A glimmer of approval flashed in the Empress’s eyes. Her gaze swept over everyone present before she lifted her teacup, took a slow sip, and said, “If you can discover who leaked the horoscope, then this matter ends in your palace. Should such a thing happen again, I shall bear the weight on your behalf.”

Qin Yuqing bowed her head. She understood—the Empress had seen her potential and was offering her a chance.

“Fourth Sister,” Qin Yuqing lowered herself with humility, “by rights, after such an incident, you should go and rest. Yet at this moment there are matters I must discuss with you. I beg your forbearance.”

She knew her current standing in the harem was beneath even a maid’s. She had to bow low.

Princess Qin Qinqin was still red-eyed, but she had regained her composure. She also knew this was no time to throw a tantrum. With a cold snort she said,

“Sixth Sister, your words are reasonable. When I heard Madam Chen’s account, I rushed straight here. I, too, suspect it may be a case of framing.”

“I recall not long ago that a steward from the Imperial Kitchen asked about it. But as my birthday was near, such an inquiry seemed normal. After all, the Kitchen has always managed birthdays for all the palaces.” Qinqin thought aloud, listing names, then ruling them out one by one.

And in the end, suspicion circled back to Qin Yuqing. Qin Qinqin wouldn’t lie about someone trying to harm her. But Chuntao, now witless, could reveal nothing. That meant no proof for the mastermind—and no proof for Qin Yuqing’s innocence.

“Your Majesty,” Madam Chen suddenly interjected, “this old servant fears it may simply be the Sixth Princess’s foolish doing. Moreover, the horoscopes of the Fourth and Sixth Princesses are very close. Even without asking, the Sixth Princess could easily have known.”

Qin Yuqing arched a brow and smiled faintly. She had just reviewed the plot in her mind—indeed, her horoscope and Qinqin’s were nearly identical. But apart from their two birth mothers and their respective nurses, who else could possibly have known?

“Your Majesty, your servant was frail since childhood. My mother, Lady Chen, died early. My wet nurse followed her soon after. But for Your Majesty’s mercy in granting me this small quarter, I would have been utterly destitute. Yet there is one thing I cannot understand.” Qin Yuqing’s eyes reddened. With a thud, she knelt. Chuntao knelt with her.

“I have never attended Fourth Sister’s birthday celebrations. The records of the palace household make this plain. I have not lied.” Her voice trembled with grief, every word sincere. The original heroine had always been like a caged bird, crying in the rear courtyard, yet unheard.

“Your Majesty, each prince and princess’s birthday is arranged by the Kitchen. That makes it easy for others to probe indirectly.” Madam Chen cast Qin Yuqing a dark glare.

Qin Yuqing shook her head, eyes glistening, clutching her robe in silent anguish as she looked pitifully toward the Empress.

“Yuqing, speak freely.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Qin Yuqing rose and bowed. “Perhaps Madam Chen does not know—someone as weak as I cannot hold grand celebrations. Since Lady Chen’s passing, I have never once had a birthday feast.”

“But Princess, did you not say Lady Chen passed away… then there are still thirteen years of—”

“Madam Chen!” The Empress’s voice cracked like a whip, her eyes filled with disappointment. “You slander a deceased consort. Twenty slaps. Send her out of the palace!”

Qin Yuqing’s reddened eyes followed Madam Chen as she was dragged away. At the last moment their gazes met. Qin Yuqing’s look turned cold—then she smiled sweetly and said, “Goodbye.”

She had done it deliberately, to goad the old woman into that final slip.

In the original story, Qin Yuqing was the neglected daughter of Lady Chen, who had died when Yuqing was only five. From then on, life had been cruel. She and Chuntao had survived by scavenging leftovers from the kitchens, even fighting dogs for scraps.

Most importantly, the Imperial Kitchen had never once managed her birthday. So how had Madam Chen, who had never dealt with her, known the precise date of her birth?

“You two have been frightened enough. Rest well in your own palaces.” The Empress sighed, glancing at the empty seat beside her. “You are both good children. Do not let small matters destroy your bond.”

“Mother’s teaching is right. We understand.”

As the Empress turned to leave, Qin Yuqing spoke again: “Mother, I remain uneasy. I beg leave to go to the temple, to pray for you, for Sister, and for all.”

Before the Empress could respond, a young man in pale blue brocade strode into the inner palace as though it were his own hall.

“Why not let the two princesses go to the National Master’s Tower?” His expression was cool, his voice calm, though he looked no more than twenty.

The Empress showed no surprise at his presence. She merely stepped forward and inclined her head. “Young General Lu is thoughtful indeed. Eunuch Ye, see the general out.”

A eunuch immediately approached to guide him. This young General Lu had never appeared in the original tale. Could his presence mean the plot was already diverging?

“This is General Lu’s legitimate son, Lu Jingchuan,” the Empress explained, noting Qin Yuqing’s confusion. “His Majesty appointed him to teach martial skills to the young princes. He seems mature and steady, though somewhat poor with directions.”

Lu Jingchuan.

Recalling his figure, Qin Yuqing felt her heart stir—as though something inside had been gently scratched. She almost felt she knew him.

The Empress left with the Fourth Princess, saying attendants would come tomorrow to escort Qin Yuqing to the National Master’s Tower. She also rewarded her with many gifts, urging her to rest well.

Back in bed, Qin Yuqing had meant to question Chuntao. But her frail body, once relaxed, succumbed immediately to sleep.

In her dreams, a five-year-old boy clutched the hand of her childhood self, crying. His lips moved, whispering words.

“I will wait for you.”

At dawn, Chuntao roused her, dressed her quickly, and bundled her into a carriage.

Leaning by the window, Qin Yuqing watched Qin Qinqin’s carriage ahead. Upon waking, her first thought was to ask the system whether Main Task One was complete.

【No.】

“The straw-doll matter is settled. Why am I still in danger?”

【Detected: Host remains in hidden danger. Host must investigate and resolve the threat independently.】

The system said no more. Qin Yuqing puzzled over it, riffling through the novel’s plot in her mind, but found no clue.

At the National Master’s Tower, they were not even permitted to see the master himself. Qin Yuqing and Qin Qinqin were escorted into a loft brimming with scriptures.

“The Master has heard of your situation,” said the Daoist priest, “and wishes you both to copy scriptures here to calm your hearts.” With that, he left.

Qin Yuqing chose a seat by the window, picked up a brush, and began to copy.

Qin Qinqin sat opposite, snorted coldly, and with one hand scribbled on her scroll. In a casual tone she said, “Sixth Sister, I have a thought. Would you like to hear it?”

Without raising her head, Qin Yuqing replied, “Please, do tell.”

“I heard the servants say this Madam Chen and that maid of yours were notorious for insolence. Perhaps you didn’t know, being ill all these years. But Madam Chen has secrets.”

Qin Yuqing arched her brows, brush still moving. “Elder Sister is better informed than I.”

“Madam Chen was once Lady Chen’s own wet nurse. She committed a crime and was dismissed. Yet somehow, instead of being expelled from the palace, she was transferred into the Empress’s service. Strange, don’t you think?”

“Oh? Truly?” This time Qin Yuqing was genuinely surprised. The original story had contained nothing of this.

“Indeed. Lady Chen had intended to drive her out, but in the end she was placed in the Empress’s palace. And there’s an even stranger coincidence—care to guess, Sister?”

Qin Yuqing paused, lifted her gaze, and smiled faintly. “That the very day she was reassigned, you and I were born one after another?”

“Yes. Our horoscopes being so close—far more people knew than we thought, don’t you agree?”

Qin Yuqing met her sister’s probing gaze calmly. “If that is so, wouldn’t Fifth Sister’s timing be just as coincidental?” She had considered this in the carriage: princesses were ranked by age, and she was the sixth, Qinqin the fourth. Between them was the fifth.

“I also heard,” Qin Yuqing added, “that you and Fifth Sister have been at odds lately. Something to do with your maternal families, perhaps?”

“How do you know that!”

“This time, it’s your turn to guess.” Qin Yuqing’s eyes sparkled with foxlike mischief.