After Entering The Abusive Novel, I Became The Empress - chapter 8

The banquet fell into utter silence. Everyone stared wide-eyed at Qin Yuqing and Lu Jingchuan—and at the person sitting between them, who would never open his eyes again.

Just as Qin Yuqing was racking her brain over what to do, Qin Youran suddenly stepped forward, blocked Lu Jingchuan from view, and knelt stiffly before the Emperor.

Qin Yuqing: ???

Lu Jingchuan: ???

The two exchanged a bewildered glance, each reading the same confusion in the other’s eyes.

“Father, you mustn’t!” Qin Youran stole a shy glance at Lu Jingchuan before lowering her head, cheeks tinged red. “I beg you to reconsider. Young General Lu is by no means a good match for Sixth Sister, and besides, she has only just returned from the temple. Isn’t this too hasty?”

Qin Yuqing looked at her at that moment and finally remembered—ah, the male lead of the original novel hadn’t appeared yet, so Qin Youran still liked Lu Jingchuan.

What a pity, what a pity. The Lu family was clearly a burning hot potato. And as for Fifth Princess Qin Youran—her mother Consort Yu came from a family that had provided prime ministers for three generations; how could she possibly marry someone with such a background as Lu Jingchuan?

In the end, it was the unwanted Sixth Princess, born of a concubine who died young, who was the most suitable person to hand this hot potato to—not only a royal, but also someone easy to manipulate and control.

At this point, Lu’s father also spoke up:
“As the Fifth Princess says. What’s more, my son’s conduct is wanting. He is but a coarse military man, a boor. He truly is unworthy of a princess.” He knocked his head heavily against the floor. “I beg Your Majesty to rescind this decree.”

Wanting in conduct. A boor.

Qin Yuqing hadn’t expected those words to be used to describe Lu Jingchuan. Yet precisely because of them, she recalled a discarded note from the original novel’s character descriptions. No matter what relationship she now had with Lu Jingchuan, the novel’s version of him was indeed like this.

Under the excuse of losing his way, he once trespassed into the harem. He was said to spend his days in brothels. And on top of that, he had that taciturn, cold temperament that made people wary of approaching.

That was how the novel had painted him.

But for the first time, Qin Yuqing wavered.
The Lu Jingchuan she knew—was he really the same person as the one in the book?
If not, then what exactly was this place?

【This is the world of the novel Empress. There is only one Lu Jingchuan in existence. The host need not doubt.】

The icy mechanical voice jolted her awake. Yes—what was she even suspecting? How could she suddenly grow sentimental here? What mattered most was going back to the modern world.

Modernity—that was her true home.

“Qing’er, what do you think?” The Emperor ignored Lu’s father and instead turned to Qin Yuqing. Though he spoke as if asking, his gaze forced her to make a choice. “I wish to make it up to you. Though Lu Jingchuan can be unruly, his character is good. You won’t suffer by marrying him.”

【Host, focus.】

A faint electric pulse tingled her nerves, and her brain kicked into overdrive. Her eyes flicked toward the Empress, who had remained detached all evening. Clearly, she couldn’t rely on her now. That left only one possible strategy.

This marriage—must not happen. Even if she had to stall, she would stall.

Qin Yuqing drew a deep breath. Meeting the Emperor’s probing gaze, she answered calmly:
“Your daughter has only just returned. I am still unacquainted with many matters, and I also wish to remain by Father and Mother’s side for a few more days, to fulfill my filial duty.”

The Emperor nodded slightly without reply. His gaze then shifted to Lu Jingchuan, the other party in the marriage decree.
“Jingchuan, I hear the young prince praises you highly. I believe you will be able to care well for our little Sixth.”

Lu Jingchuan’s dark eyes met hers, a ripple of unfathomable emotion in their depths. A prickle of unease stirred in her chest.

Don’t do anything rash…

“Your servant,” Lu Jingchuan said gravely, bowing low with hands clasped. His voice betrayed no emotion, his wide sleeves veiling his face from view. “Accepts the decree. Thank you, Your Majesty, for the marriage.”

“What?” Qin Yuqing nearly rushed over to seize him by the collar. Are you insane? What are you doing? What happened to our agreement? Our alliance?

“I forbid it! I refuse to accept it!” Qin Youran’s nails dug into her palms as she glared at Qin Yuqing with burning hatred.

“Jingchuan, you must not act recklessly.” Lu’s father was equally stunned. His son, usually so cautious, suddenly agreed to such a marriage?

If she were truly wed, how could she sit for the imperial exams? How could she complete her mission? How could she ever… go home?

Before Qin Yuqing could think further on his motives, she caught sight of a maid holding a wine cup nearby. She seized it, smashed it to the floor, and began rearranging the shards as she spoke quickly:

“Father, I still wish to play chess with you. Just now, I suddenly thought of another solution to the board we studied earlier.”

“Oh?” The Emperor didn’t cut her off. Instead, he leaned forward with interest. “And what solution is that?”

“I forgot—the true way out only appears at death’s door.” She nudged the shards about as she spoke. “Unlike Father’s method, this one sacrifices some pieces, but it opens up a much larger situation.”

“Moreover, as for this Lu family son… his looks are ordinary. He truly doesn’t catch my eye. To be forced to spend my days with someone so plain, I fear I would only grow melancholic.”

Her words weren’t entirely false. Back in the modern world, her best friend loved dragging her to odd places, saying, Even as a CEO you can’t forget real happiness.

But Qin Yuqing never fit in. She’d just sit awkwardly with a glass, sipping her tasteless drink. She never got drunk.

In the end, she was always the one hauling her tipsy friend home, listening to her mumble: “Your alcohol tolerance is the worst. Drinking with you is no fun!”

“Xiao Qing’er, next time we’ll find a better spot.”

Her thoughts returned to the present. With some trepidation, Qin Yuqing glanced up at the Emperor.

He lowered his gaze to the broken shards on the floor. “Interesting, interesting.” Then he lifted his eyes again, dark and unreadable.

“It seems I underestimated you, Qing’er. Very well.” He waved his hand, his smile returning. “I was too hasty. You’ve only just come back—naturally you should take your time settling in.”

Relief flooded Qin Yuqing’s chest. Great! I don’t have to marry him!

Lu Jingchuan lowered his lashes. Why… why don’t you want to marry me?

The Emperor stood, amusement glinting in his eyes. He walked over to the shards, ignoring the eunuchs’ protests, and picked one up, setting it on a new spot.
“If I placed it here, wouldn’t the board look even better?”

Qin Yuqing’s eyes widened. She bowed quickly.
“Your daughter’s chess skills are lacking. I beg Father’s forgiveness.”

“I couldn’t be more pleased.” The Emperor turned to Lu Jingchuan, towering over him. “Look well at this board. Study it. One day, you will have to take my place.”

Then he crossed to the center, laid a hand on Lu Lian’s lifeless shoulder, and said softly:
“Go well, and take care.”

He waved, and the eunuchs stepped forward, lifting both corpse and chair to carry them away, the body to be sent back to the Lu estate.

“Since there will be no marriage, then let Lu Jingyu lead the army instead.” The Emperor’s tone was final. “Three days from now—prepare to march.”

“Your servant, Lu Jingyu, accepts the decree.” Stepping forth, he knelt, calmly accepting this fate that should not have been his, yet now inevitably was.

“Long live the Emperor, long live, long live.” The voices of congratulations echoed. Thus ended this absurd yet sorrowful birthday banquet.

Who still remembered? This day was supposed to celebrate not two, but three princesses’ birthdays.

But perhaps that no longer mattered.

When the banquet dispersed, Qin Yuqing reeked of wine. She had spent time speaking with Minister Guo of the Ministry of Rites and learned troubling details about the upcoming imperial examinations.

They were far trickier than she had imagined.

Without Chun Tao by her side, she carried a lantern alone down the darkened path.

Up ahead, a sudden glow appeared. She quickened her pace—and found its source.

“You’re slow.” Lu Jingchuan matched her stride, his lantern beside hers lighting the black night.

For a moment, the gloom in her heart lifted. Why let herself grow attached to these book characters? As long as they didn’t hinder her mission, what did their lives matter?

“Young General Lu,” she teased lightly, “have you lost your way again?”

A faint hum escaped him. His voice was soft.
“Sorry to trouble the Sixth Princess to lead the way.”

“And what if I lead you down a road of no return?”

“Then… I am already aboard the ship.”

“Guess that means we sail to the end together.”

“Mm.”

At the road’s end stood Eunuch Zhang, ever at the Emperor’s side. He approached with a smile, his little steps quick.
“Sixth Princess, Young General Lu—His Majesty awaits you both.”

At the banquet earlier, the Emperor had deliberately placed a move on the upper line, though better options existed. If aligned with time… the moment was now.

Inside the imperial study, the Emperor sat at his desk in loose robes, hair casually bound by a single pin. He held a booklet in hand.

“No need to be so stiff. Sit.” He set the book down.

Qin Yuqing noticed that when Eunuch Zhang left, he carefully checked the windows before shutting the door tight.

On their way here, she had also seen no guards. Clearly, this was by the Emperor’s command.

“Look at this.” The Emperor laid a slip of paper on the desk—the one Lu Lian had brought.

It detailed how General Lu Zhong had uncovered a mole, set up a trap, and eliminated the traitor, with both suspicions and confessions written clearly.

As Qin Yuqing read, she marveled at the concision of classical writing, yet her brows drew tighter and tighter.

In the novel, Lu Zhong had been a passing mention, a mere transitional figure, irrelevant to the core plot.

But here, his presence, his letter—these were key. They could alter the course of the dynasty.

She cast a glance at Lu Jingchuan and the Emperor. Their faces were anything but static.

The Emperor’s eyes always carried calculation, probing and weighing.

Lu Jingchuan was like a still pond—cold, distant, unfathomable.

That eerie sensation returned.

This scene was nowhere in the novel, yet the direction still followed its track.

What was this place?

How had she come here?

And if this was not the novel’s world… then what was it?