After Entering The Abusive Novel, I Became The Empress - Chapter 35

Night had fallen. Within a strange space shrouded in white mist, Qin Yuqing suddenly appeared, looking around in confusion.

“Where is this place?”

As her voice faded, distant voices drifted toward her — two people speaking. Qin Yuqing followed the sound.

The mist gradually thinned, revealing a familiar palace courtyard. But unlike before, in the courtyard a newer-looking swing sat with a woman on it, and in her arms rested a baby.

“Mother, what is the future?”

“The future,” the woman replied softly, “is something within reach.”

Huh? What was that supposed to mean?

Guided by curiosity, Qin Yuqing approached the mother and child.

The woman was breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that even the phrase as lovely as a goddess hardly sufficed. The baby in her arms looked like a smaller version of her.

But what shocked Qin Yuqing most was how much the woman resembled her — though even more, she looked like Qin Yuqing’s mother from the modern world.

“Mother, what does ‘within reach’ mean?” the baby asked in a milk-sweet voice.

The woman gently pinched her child’s face. “It means something you can take just by reaching out.”

Qin Yuqing sucked in a sharp breath. Even in the modern world, the future had always been unknown, intangible.

“Go on now, play by yourself. Don’t get too close to strangers,” the woman said tenderly, setting the baby down and patting her head.

“I know, Mother.”

The baby ran straight toward Qin Yuqing. Qin Yuqing instinctively stepped aside — but the baby passed right through her body.

Qin Yuqing turned, staring after the little figure until it vanished into the mist. An odd sense of familiarity lingered in her chest.

“You’re here.”

Qin Yuqing spun around, meeting the smiling gaze of the woman on the swing. She was clearly speaking to her.

“You know me? Who are you? Can you see me?”

The woman’s eyes brimmed with endless gentleness. Amused by Qin Yuqing’s questions, she chuckled softly. “Qing’er, you don’t even recognize your own mother?”

Qin Yuqing staggered back a step, her mind in turmoil. If this woman was her mother, then who was that baby? Why was her mother here at all?

“She is you. That much you need not doubt.” The woman had seen through Qin Yuqing’s confusion. “To be precise, you are her grown self, her future self — brought here by me from the future.”

The words were simple, yet the meaning exploded in Qin Yuqing’s mind. She could understand each term separately, but together they made no sense.

What did it mean to be her future self? What did it mean to be brought from the future?

“I know you have many questions,” the woman said, stepping closer. She tipped her face up toward Qin Yuqing, who was half a head taller. “You’ve grown so tall. I still remember the last time in this timeline — you clutched my hand and cried, promising you’d never run off again.”

“I’m her? Then what am I exactly?” For the first time, Qin Yuqing doubted her own existence. Was she truly human?

“You are my child, born into two timelines that coexist yet differ completely,” the woman said softly, delivering a sentence Qin Yuqing found even harder to grasp.

“You are her. I am a traveler through time and space — or you could say a system-bound quick-transmigrator. In truth, you should never have been born into this world. But to protect you, I split your soul in two — one half placed in the future, or rather the modern world, and the other in this one.”

Qin Yuqing staggered back. A soul split in two? What connection existed between the modern world and this fictional one?

“Because sooner or later, they will come for you. You are an error, a being that should not exist here — something the world itself would try to erase. But I left an anchor for you in this timeline. If you do not return, this world will collapse. The fact that you can see me now means they have already acted. But don’t worry — they can’t harm you anymore.”

Qin Yuqing was only beginning to piece the words together when the white mist suddenly twisted violently. Pain flared across her body, like burning fire.

The woman rushed forward, cupping Qin Yuqing’s face and pressing her forehead against hers. Her words came in a rapid rush:

“Qin Yuqing, remember this — Lu Jingchuan is your anchor. As long as he exists in this world, it is real.”

“You must go back now. You’ll forget everything that happened here, but it doesn’t matter. Your mother will make sure you remember the most important thing.”

Before Qin Yuqing could speak, the woman pushed her away. Qin Yuqing’s vision blurred; the last thing she saw was her mother smiling as she vanished.

“Mother!”

Qin Yuqing cried out, jerking awake. Gasping for breath, she looked around in panic.

Who am I? Why am I here? Where is this place?

“Ah Ruan, what’s wrong?”

Hearing the voice, Lu Jingchuan rushed to her window, ignoring propriety. He gently patted her back. “It’s all right. Don’t be afraid.”

That voice—Lu Jingchuan!

I am Qin Yuqing. I am in the world of the novel “The Empress.” I have to complete my mission.

Her head throbbed painfully. She couldn’t recall what had just happened, but the moment she saw Lu Jingchuan’s face, her emotions crashed over her. She flung her arms around his waist.

“Lu Jingchuan is your anchor. As long as he exists in this world, it is real.”

The words burned in her mind like a seal. She couldn’t remember who had spoken them, but she knew they mattered.

“With you here, my world is real.” Qin Yuqing inhaled his familiar plum-blossom scent. It calmed her, sweeping away the fear that had consumed her.

Lu Jingchuan didn’t know what she had dreamed, but he felt her emotions slowly settle. Hearing her near-confession, his heart thumped wildly again.

“I’ll always be here.”

He eased her back into bed, tucking the blanket around her. Just as he turned to leave, a hand caught his sleeve.

“Don’t go.”

“Ah Ruan, I won’t. I’m here.”

He sat down by her side. Watching her troubled brow, he didn’t know what she had gone through, only that she needed him now.

Lu Jingchuan did not sleep that night.

At dawn, he carefully slipped his hand free, placed a warm jade pendant in her arms, summoned Chuntao to watch over her, and left the palace in haste.

When Qin Yuqing awoke again, the sun was already high. She vaguely remembered Lu Jingchuan sitting with her through the night — but now he was gone.

A strange panic rose in her chest. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, brushing against something hard.

“What’s this?”

She lifted the warm jade. A faint plum-blossom fragrance clung to it, proof that Lu Jingchuan had truly been there last night.

Which meant… had she hugged him first?

She was doomed. There was no explaining that away!

When the final exam results were announced, Qin Yuqing had expected a flood of work — but instead she drifted through several strangely idle months.

After the imperial exams, all the factions quieted down. Even the flood-plagued southern provinces suddenly stabilized overnight. Natural disasters seemed to vanish as if swept away.

At court, only trivial matters were discussed. Qin Yuqing attended punctually every day, but little of importance ever arose.

Even Fifth Princess Qin Youran, usually her greatest rival, behaved herself — spending her days gardening and embroidering, refusing visitors.

Fourth Princess Qin Qinqin sometimes came to chat, though about nothing meaningful. Regarding the sorcery incident, she declared there was no need to investigate further. Perhaps she had realized something, but she didn’t share it with Qin Yuqing.

Since Qinqin had spoken, Qin Yuqing let it be — though in secret, she searched everywhere for traces of Consort Chen. But the entire harem remained tight-lipped, as though under orders.

Just as Qin Yuqing prepared to stir trouble on her own, tragedy struck: a newly promoted Hanlin scholar was found dead in his home.

Beside his body, written in bl00d, were chilling words:

A woman entering court invites divine punishment.

Soon more officials followed, dying in the same way, with the same words beside them — all pointing at Qin Yuqing.

Rumors spread like wildfire. Ministers accused her openly in court, claiming this was heaven’s wrath against women taking the exams.

The Emperor, not yet senile, saw the plot for what it was — a scheme targeting his sixth daughter. Secretly, he sent Lu Jingchuan to assist her in uncovering the truth.

But he was already too late. This was a carefully prepared trap, laid months in advance, designed to ensnare Qin Yuqing.

While the Emperor hesitated over how to protect her, disaster struck again — this time at the National Preceptor’s Tower.

The National Preceptor was dead.

He was found in his meditation chamber, which no one had entered. In his hand was a note, damning Qin Yuqing completely:

A demon walks among us, bringing chaos to the court. Heaven is enraged. Calamity is coming.

Public outrage exploded. The pressure was unstoppable. The Emperor had no choice but to confine Qin Yuqing to her residence.

“Have you figured it out?” Qin Yuqing asked, sitting on her swing. Papers littered the ground around her.

“The ones who died were all officials who abstained from voting on Mount Wen,” Lu Jingchuan answered, crouching to gather the sheets.

“So the neutral faction was eliminated,” Qin Yuqing said. She had suspected from the first death — this looked like an attack on her, but in truth it was political factional warfare.

“Exactly.”

Qin Yuqing frowned. Being confined, she couldn’t investigate further. But she had a strong feeling the National Preceptor’s Tower held the answers she sought.

Suddenly the sky darkened. Wind and rain lashed violently, tearing tiles from rooftops, sending them crashing to the ground.

Lu Jingchuan’s instincts screamed — this storm was too sudden, too perfectly timed with the Preceptor’s so-called prophecy.

As someone from the modern world, Qin Yuqing recognized it instantly as a normal weather event. But to this ancient world, it was an omen.

Damn! This is bad, she thought. Time was running out.

“Take me to the National Preceptor’s Tower.”

Lu Jingchuan didn’t ask why. He only said:

“All right. I’ll go with you.”