After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 2

Under the dim yellow sky, the rain fell in slanted strands. Eunuch Liang glanced back at Qun Qing, who lagged behind, coughing into her sleeve as if chilled by the cold. He couldn’t help but feel surprised. Just moments ago in the hall, this young woman had radiated an imposing aura, almost overpowering him with her presence. Yet now, after looking at the silk scroll, she seemed frail and weak.

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed that Lu Huating was so formidable. Three simple lines of text had completely shattered her defenses.

“The palace scholar named Su Run—is he a friend of yours?” Eunuch Liang rested his whisk across his sleeve, waiting for her to catch up.

Qun Qing’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. “I don’t know him.”

Still denying it. Eunuch Liang sneered. “If not for your guidance, who would have the audacity to block Lu Huating outside Changle Gate after court and embrace him in broad daylight, demanding an explanation? Two men, embracing under the watchful eyes of ministers and officials—that’s quite a spectacle.”

Qun Qing’s heart trembled, and she was momentarily speechless. Su Run, at her request, had assured her that he could delay Lu Huating after court to prevent him from meeting Prince Yan at the Liangyi Palace, allowing Yang Fu to carry out her assassination attempt.

She had expected something clever, but not this…

She thought her connection with Su Run was purely platonic, a relationship built on mutual respect. She had never imagined he would risk his reputation for her cause. She handed a gold bead to Eunuch Liang and asked,

“And what happened to Scholar Su?”

“What else? He got kicked by Lu Huating and was dragged away,” Eunuch Liang chuckled, discreetly pocketing the bead..

“You can’t blame the Grand Chancellor for acting so harshly. If he hadn’t, wouldn’t that have confirmed the rumors? You really struck at the heart of the matter, didn’t you? Lu Huating, unmarried and without concubines, has long been the subject of gossip, comparing him to the infamous eunuch Le Jun from the previous dynasty, who favored male lovers. But it’s not just the rumor that’s damaging—it’s that Prince Yan has trusted Lu Huating for years. Whose reputation were you trying to destroy? Many have tried to entangle him with courtesans before, but no one has ever used a ninth-ranked official. It’s no wonder it delayed him all morning—he didn’t even make it to the Liangyi Palace today.”

Eunuch Liang rambled on, but Qun Qing caught only one crucial detail: Lu Huating never made it to the Liangyi Palace. A smile flickered across her face.

The poison pearl she had given Yang Fu was a secret venom passed down by her mother, sealed with snake scale glue and hidden beneath her fingernail. The glue would dissolve upon contact with gold. All Yang Fu had to do was dip her nail into Li Huan’s gold-inlaid inkstone at the Hall, allowing the poison to mix with the ink.

The two would be seated apart, separated by a screen, each copying their scriptures. The poison would evaporate within minutes, entering Li Huan’s system through his skin and lungs as he dipped his brush into the ink.

was harmless. Even during this critical time as regent, he continued to meet her privately. He guarded his food and drink carefully, but he would never suspect the ink. The hours the princess spent alone with him were more than enough to achieve their goal.

Qun Qing felt a surge of satisfaction as she realized that the poison had likely already entered Li Huan’s body.

However, the venom would not take immediate effect—it would lie dormant, slowly eating away at his strength. Her mother had told her this, though Qun Qing had never witnessed it herself.

She speculated that Li Huan had begun to feel unwell after inhaling the poison, raising his suspicions, though he had no proof. This would explain why the guards had surrounded the Liangyi Palace, detaining Princess Bao’an and all the palace servants inside.

Lu Huating hadn’t been there at all, and with so little time, he couldn’t have confirmed anything. Clearly, he was using the princess as leverage without any real evidence, trying to pry a confession from Qun Qing to implicate Yang Fu.

Her fear slowly receded, replaced by a sense of calm as she stepped into the courtyard, lifting her skirts with grace. Her expression settled into one of quiet resolve.

They only wanted to torture her, but she had long given up hope of surviving.

—

Eunuch Liang pushed open the door to Jinglian Pavilion. The wind whipped against the colorful banners, brushing against Qun Qing’s face, as if spirits were singing in the air. She closed her eyes, swaying gently as she brushed the banners aside while Eunuch Liang explained,

“This used to be the meditation hall of the king of the Chu Kingdom from the previous dynasty. Now, it’s the residence of Grand Chancellor Lu—have you ever met him?”

Qun Qing shook her head.

Lu Huating was a strategist for Prince Yan and only entered the palace when accompanied by the prince. Qun Qing had considered observing him from the shadows but had never had the chance. The only time she caught a glimpse of him when he and the prince left the Chengtian Gate, laughing together.

Lu Huating was about the same height and age as the prince, wearing a simple blue hemp robe with a gold-inlaid dagger at his side. As they walked, he playfully knocked an unripe fruit hanging from a tree with his fan, his nimble body moving with youthful mischief.

She had also caught a fleeting glimpse of his face at last year’s Winter Solstice banquet, but her mind had been too preoccupied with the assassination to remember his features clearly. There was no need to mention this to Eunuch Liang.

Suddenly, Eunuch Liang pulled her aside.

“There’s something I need to tell you—this Grand Chancellor is notorious for his private torture methods. Do you know his rules?”

“I know,” Qun Qing replied.

“You don’t!” Eunuch Liang insisted. “Anyone who meets with him—whether guilty or innocent—must first endure a round of his tortures before he asks any questions! Spies, assassins, even common heroes—it doesn’t matter. He’ll force you to speak. And don’t think he’ll show any mercy just because you’re a woman.”

Qun Qing stayed silent. She had already noted all this down long ago, though she had harbored a faint hope of escape. Now, that last hope had been crushed.

Before them stood a massive copper door, stretching up to the ceiling, guarded by a fierce bronze beast with a terrifying, fanged face. It felt like the entrance to a forbidden realm. Faint cries for mercy echoed from behind the door, sounding more like the wails of ghosts than humans. The eerie sounds sent chills through her, cutting off her conversation with Eunuch Liang.

If she wasn’t mistaken, this was where Lu Huating tortured and killed his unfortunate victims—right here, in what used to be a royal meditation hall, now twisted into his personal torture chamber.

This man was ruthless, bound by no rules. They say those with nothing to lose have nothing to fear, and even Qun Qing felt dread dealing with someone like him.

She had faced death and sickness before, but never torture. She wasn’t made of iron, and her confidence began to shake.

“Is there anything you’d like me to pass along?” Eunuch Liang’s tone shifted, more respectful now, with a hint of pity for someone who seemed close to death. His words rang in her ears like a funeral bell, ominous and frightening.

Qun Qing asked, “Does the Grand Chancellor still bury the dead himself?”

“You know about that?” Eunuch Liang sounded surprised.

“Yes, he does. Usually, the ones he kills with his own hands, he buries himself. But lately, there have been so many victims that he only handles the ones he kills directly.”

Qun Qing nodded. She had heard rumors of Lu Huating’s strange habit of personally burying his victims. Now, she knew it was true.

She also knew that he came from humble beginnings and, after becoming a strategist, still dressed in plain clothes every day. He only worked half a day, resting during the daytime and being active at night. With such odd habits, it was hard to think of him as a normal person.

As the moment drew near, her fear turned into cold sweat, soaking her skin.

Inside, the nerve-racking sounds continued.

Eunuch Liang reappeared from the shadows, holding a wooden tray, and whispered,

“Since you were kind enough to give me gold, I’ll return the favor and give you some advice. Once you enter that door, the pain will be unbearable. Even if you want to escape it, he won’t let you. Registrar Qun, it’s best to be prepared.”

He lifted the wooden tray, revealing exactly what Qun Qing had expected: a goblet of poison wine, a dagger, and poison pills.

Eunuch Liang was indeed being considerate. Compared to the brutal torture and death at Lu Huating’s hands, these three options seemed almost kind.

Qun Qing glanced at them, “Which one is the fastest?”

“The poison wine,” Eunuch Liang replied. “It will tear through your insides and kill you within a quarter of an hour.”

Without hesitation, Qun Qing picked up the poison wine and drank it in one gulp.

Her decisiveness caught Eunuch Liang off guard, and he quickly lowered his gaze, avoiding her eyes.

Qun Qing wiped her lips and knocked on the bronze door three times. She pushed it open swiftly, as if afraid she might change her mind. From behind her, she heard Eunuch Liang’s voice call out:

“Registrar Qun has arrived—”

The heavy bronze door shut behind her with a final thud.

Step by step, Qun Qing walked into the hall. It was vast and bare, with none of the usual incense burners, lamps, or furnishings found in palace rooms. The air carried a faint, warm scent of blood, but there were no torture instruments or any sign of someone suffering. Whoever had been here had already been dragged away.

Her eyes were drawn to a small square opening in the far wall, barely big enough to be called a window. She also noticed two hidden doors tucked behind wooden pillars along the sides. Sunlight fell softly across the floor, and a gentle breeze drifted in. She glanced to her right and saw a half-open carved window, with the shadows of trees swaying outside.

It was still a peaceful spring day beyond these walls.

But when she looked to her left, she froze. On a high stone platform, a white curtain embroidered with an eight-trigram pattern swayed in the wind. Behind it, a figure sat cross-legged, as still as a ghost, unnoticed until now.

Qun Qing quickly gathered her robes and knelt down without delay. “Qun Qing, sixth rank registrar from Shangyi Bureau, has urgent matters to report to Chancellor Lu.”

The hall was so silent that the sound of her own breathing seemed loud. Despite her words, there was no reaction. The balance of power in this negotiation had immediately shifted.

After a brief pause, Qun Qing spoke again, her voice steady but urgent.

“This concerns the life and death of His Highness, Prince Yan.”

But once again, only silence greeted her.

The long silence was suffocating. A flood of thoughts rushed into Qun Qing’s mind: Could he have already known about the poisoning and held some evidence? Was that why he seemed indifferent to the prince’s fate, or was he merely toying with her, wearing down her defenses?

Amid the quiet, a faint noise suddenly broke through, like the slow tearing of something delicate. Qun Qing strained her ears, and soon after, a sharp, citrusy scent filled the air.

The figure behind the curtain had lowered his gaze and was holding something.

An orange—he was peeling an orange.

Qun Qing could hardly believe it.

Lu Huating’s movements were casual, peeling the orange leisurely, allowing its fragrance to spread throughout the hall.

Suddenly, a muffled moan broke the silence, and Qun Qing’s eyes darted toward the dark opening in the wall. The sound came from beyond—a hidden chamber! Then came another grunt, distorted by pain, followed by the frantic sounds of people assisting someone. Qun Qing recognized the voice—it was Su Run.

“The poisoning of Prince Yan was entirely my doing. It has nothing to do with the Crown Princess or anyone else.”

Before another cry could ring out, Qun Qing spoke up, “Scholar Su has asthma. If you don’t want him to die, send for a doctor at once!”

Inside the curtain, Lu Huating’s hands slowed. He placed the orange down on the table, almost disappointed that she had surrendered so easily, blurting out something so foolish.

Yet Qun Qing’s posture remained firm. Her kneeling figure did not waver. In the inner palace, it was rare to see someone kneel with such quiet dignity, her back straight as though supported by a ruler, her sleeves falling like the wings of a crane in the soft backlight.

From behind the curtain, it seemed Lu Huating turned his head to scrutinize her.

A breeze from the carved window brushed against the sweat on Qun Qing’s neck, cooling her face as it swept toward the stone platform, lifting the drapery with it.

Taking advantage of the moment, Qun Qing glanced upward. She saw neither official robes nor plain clothes. Only black-and-white silk draped down, a folded fan resting on his knee, and a sash around his waist—the attire of a refined gentleman from Chang’an at a banquet.

The curtain fluttered again, caught by a cold, pale hand, which pulled it aside to reveal an extraordinarily handsome face, his sharp, upturned eyes brimming with a piercing intensity.

“Did you send me away to ensure the Crown Princess could successfully poison Prince Yan?”

With a slight gesture, one of the hidden doors swung open. Yet, Qun Qing’s face remained calm. She suspected her earlier reckless remark was part of a plan to mislead him, mixing lies with truth. Another flick of his finger, and the door closed again.

The hidden door closed once more.

“Is this true, or is it Registrar Qun trying to deceive me again?” Lu Huating asked, his tone slow and deliberate.

Qun Qing remained still. Seeing his face up close had momentarily blanked her mind, but she quickly regained her composure and lowered her gaze.

“If Chancellor Lu believes it, then it is true. If you don’t, I have no other way to convince you.”

Lu Huating didn’t respond to her words, seemingly accustomed to verifying things himself. He turned his head as a dark-armored guard entered through the hidden door, whispering in his ear,

“The royal physician… has examined… His Highness is unharmed…”

“He is unharmed for now,” Qun Qing interrupted, her clear voice rising above the guard’s words.

“But this poison acts slowly. In ten days, his knees will ache, especially on rainy days. A year from now, his strength will fade, and he will be plagued by constant headaches. If he faces any major emotional strain, he could collapse into convulsions, and his life will be in danger.”

“Prince Yan is famous for his horseback archery and military prowess. If he’s reduced to dragging a crippled body, how can he bear the weight of the throne? By then, the Crown Prince will have to be reinstated, and all of Chancellor Lu’s years of planning will go to waste!”

Lu Huating’s faint smile vanished, and the dark-armored guard, sensing the change, quickly slipped away.

Qing Qing, sensing the looming storm, stared at her blurry reflection on the floor and continued, “Since I dare to speak, I have the antidote in hand. The imperial physicians won’t find a cure. Whether or not Prince Yan lives depends entirely on whether Chancellor Lu chooses to save him.”

“Are you trying to negotiate with me?” Lu Huating asked, his lips curling slightly.

You’ve gone through so much effort to commit treason, all to ensure Prince Yan’s death. Why bother saving him now and letting all that effort go to waste?”

“I hold no personal grudge against the Grand Chancellor. We simply serve different masters. Why can’t we negotiate?” Qun Qing responded calmly.

“Since you’ve threatened me with Princess Bao’an’s life, you must understand that she is my true master. While Prince Yan’s life is important, it doesn’t compare to hers. My request is simple: that the Grand Chancellor spare the Princess and refrain from entertaining any thoughts of killing her. Prince Yan treasures her deeply, and she’s too gentle to pose any real threat. Why provoke him unnecessarily and risk losing your greater advantage?”

Lu Huating remained silent for a moment, as though studying her expression.

Qun Qing steadied her breath, lifting her gaze to meet his, her eyes clear and unwavering.

“The Grand Chancellor is a brilliant strategist, admired by many. Achieving your level of mastery is something others only dream of. If you were to become Prime Minister one day, there would be nothing left to regret. Today, losing to someone like you, I have no complaints. But making an enemy of Prince Yan over old grievances is unwise. I’m willing to give you the credit for saving him. All I ask is that, in the records of history, I be remembered as a loyal minister…”

Suddenly, Lu Huating reached into his sleeve and tossed something at her feet. It rolled a few times before stopping—a wooden doll, faceless and clothed, with a silver needle piercing through its chest.

The needle had gone through the part of the doll’s garment where the characters “Yun Ming” were embroidered, pushing them deep into the fabric, clearly showing the depth of the hatred.

Yun Ming was Lu Huating’s courtesy name.

The moment Qun Qing saw the doll, she understood. While Eunuch Liang had been escorting her here, Lu Huating had already ordered her quarters searched. This doll, hidden in a secret compartment of her jewelry box, had been found.

“Is this yours, Registrar Qun?” Lu Huating’s voice was cold, his gaze fixed on her.

Qun Qing grasped the wooden doll in her hand and said nothing. The evidence was there, undeniable. To speak further would only invite more mockery from Lu Huating.

She could only thank her past self for burning that journal, leaving no trace behind. Otherwise, she dared not imagine what else could have been uncovered.

Lu Huating descended the stone steps, seating himself leisurely, leaning forward to inspect her closely. His gaze was sharp yet oddly soft, like a blade grazing her skin, tinged with curiosity.

“Registrar Qun, you have a face that doesn’t know how to lie. You speak so easily and with such sincerity. If not for this”—he nodded toward the doll—“I would never have guessed that behind your composed front, you held such deep hatred for me, all while speaking of admiration and respect.”

Qun Qing stayed silent, though inwardly she scoffed. What of it? By this point, she was willing to use any means against Lu Huating. It wasn’t just about sorcery; if burning incense, praying, or even shortening her own life could hasten his demise, she’d likely do it.

Suddenly, her chin was lifted, forcing her to tilt her neck upward. The strong scent of citrus from his fingers filled her nose, almost choking her.

She was made to look directly into his eyes—those almond-shaped eyes with a slight upward tilt, dark pupils filled with an intensity that bordered on affection.

Lu Huating’s gaze never wavered as he stared at her.

“This isn’t our first encounter. Last year, at the Winter Solstice banquet, we crossed paths. And you were the one responsible for Minister Wei’s assassination.”