After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 54

Li Huan fell into a deep sleep as soon as the royal physician finished tending to his wound. The exhaustion from his journey and the blood loss had left him completely vulnerable.

Xiao Yunru stood by the curtain, her expression serious as she watched over him. 

“The physician said the blade severed a blood vessel. He’s lost a lot of blood and needs several days of rest. Could this have been an assassination attempt?”

Lu Huating stared ahead, his face unreadable, before answering quietly, 

“No.”

Jian Su added, “Chi Su’s falcon attacked that lady first. She fled downstairs, and His Highness happened to block her path. She probably mistook him for one of the death warriors and attacked in panic.”

Lu Huating, having often employed skilled martial artists, was no stranger to such accidents. Though rare, they weren’t impossible.

Xiao Yunru nodded. “No one outside this circle knows His Highness’s true identity. Disguised and returning to court ahead of schedule, it’s unlikely anyone would recognize him. It was just a bad coincidence—but please don’t take such risks again.”

Everyone murmured their agreement. Xiao Yunru dismissed them, staying behind to watch over Prince Yan herself.

As the others left, Lu Huating’s hidden hand clenched tightly, his fingers turning pale.

Meanwhile, inside the tent, Li Huan stirred awake. His hand instinctively went to his chest, which was exposed due to the dressing. He quickly grabbed a garment to cover himself and frowned. 

“It’s late. Why hasn’t the princess retired yet?”

Xiao Yunru remained calm, pretending not to notice his discomfort. 

“If Your Highness feels no discomfort, I’ll take my leave.”

She set down the book she had been holding and turned to go, but paused when Li Huan spoke again.

“I remember now who injured me,” he said, his voice hesitant. “The woman holding the cat…” He paused, trying to recall her name. “That Lady Qing, who was conferred by the Emperor. I don’t understand why she was carrying Yun Ming’s dagger.”

“The secret guards reported that there was a struggle at the time, and it’s unclear whether someone was injured while the knife was seized. Your Highness is not present, and the Advisor has worked tirelessly. You should not blame him for this matter.”

Xiao Yunru’s mind flashed to Qun Qing’s elegant and refined face, which now seemed oddly serious. The dagger had been soaked in blood when it was pulled out. How could the Qun Qing she knew have been bold enough for such an act?

Li Huan sighed. “I don’t suspect Yun Ming. But he’s changed… Forget it. I’m tired. You should rest, Princess.”

The rhythmic drip of the water clock marked the passing of the night. 

In the next tent, Lu Huating sat in the dark, his outer robe draped loosely over his shoulders. A dull ache spread from his wrist as he moved, forcing him to pause. His expression grew cold.

What Xiao Yunru had said echoed in his mind. Li Huan had worn a bronze ghost mask since childhood, hiding his face even from spies and close allies. Not even the Emperor or Crown Prince would immediately recognize him.

This anonymity had allowed Li Huan to move freely—even to visit Siye Tower under a minimal disguise.

But Qun Qing’s reaction had been too quick, too precise. Her strike had been deliberate, filled with loathing, betraying a familiarity she shouldn’t have had.

Lu Huating’s mind raced. For years, the household had secretly sought medicine to erase the birthmark that marred Li Huan’s face. In his past life, that mark had disappeared just before the fourth year of Shenglin—the year Li Huan ascended the throne and revealed his true face to the world.

It all made sense now.

Qun Qing had returned, just like him. She had come back from the fourth year of Shenglin.

Her avoidance, her feigned ignorance—it had all been a calculated act. But she had slipped.

The memories of his past life’s death—the agony, the betrayal—surged within him. Fury burned through him, sharper than the ache in his wrist.

Yet, with that fury came something else. The pain she had caused him was unlike any torment he had ever known—deeper and more profound.

Gritting his teeth, Lu Huating removed his robe, his movements slow and deliberate. Blood stained the fabric—a mix of hers and his. His gaze lingered on a dried spot near the sleeve. It had to be hers.

For the first time, he ignored his usual need for cleanliness. He reached out, his jade-white fingers brushing the stain, as if trying to feel her pain in that moment.

Her suffering should have satisfied him.

But as the memory of Qun Qing tumbling down the stairs flashed in his mind, an indescribable sensation clawed at him. His hand froze.

Pain? No, it was something else. It felt as if his heart—a soft, fragile thing, like a bundle of snow—had caved in on itself.

Lightning split the sky, illuminating Lu Huating’s pale face and uncertain eyes. His gaze turned toward the endless night outside the window.

Lu Huating had always been a man of reason, rarely swayed by emotion. Yet here he sat, trapped in this long, dark night, just steps away from his goal.

And for the first time, he wondered—who was truly pulling him into this abyss?

The lamp’s flame flickered to life, igniting the brazier and casting a bright, intense light over Lu Huating’s steely gaze.

She was a strong opponent. Like all enemies, she had to be brought down.

When Qun Qing inevitably fell into his hands, he vowed to break her completely. Only then would he find peace.

In the dead of night, the soft sounds of wooden fish chimes and gentle chanting floated through the fog. Outside Lu Huating’s chamber, a bright light flickered, catching the attention of Jian Su and the others.

Zhu Su glanced at the pale moon and whispered, 

“Isn’t today the memorial day for the advisor’s mother and sister?”

Still groggy, Jian Su fumbled for the almanac. 

“It is. We were so focused on His Highness’s injury that it slipped our minds.”

The team sat uneasily, the faint sounds slowly fading into the dense mist.

At dawn, Qun Qing was summoned by Princess Yan to Chongjing Hall for the final stage of the imperial examination. Having passed the previous rounds, her selection was nearly certain. This last step was mostly a formality, where the princess would outline her future duties.

Qun Qing’s arm throbbed sharply from her injury, and dizziness washed over her as she rose. Still, she carefully pinned her hair into a flawless bun with her uninjured hand.

She stared into the mirror, her long lashes fluttering slightly. With a deep breath, she reopened the hastily bandaged wound, letting fresh blood seep out before hiding it under her sleeve.

Her plan was urgent. Once appointed as a palace official, her status would change, and she would no longer be able to leave with the departing servants.

As expected, she was the only one summoned.

After expressing her gratitude to the princess, Qun Qing noticed Xiao Yunru sitting behind a golden folding screen, occasionally glancing at her with measured curiosity.

It didn’t surprise Qun Qing. She had stabbed Li Huan and played a key role in the events at Siye Tower. Xiao Yunru, sharp as always, likely knew the whole story—or was close to figuring it out.

Her scrutiny was expected. Xiao Yunru was likely trying to determine what kind of person Qun Qing truly was.

Xiao Yunru’s gaze suddenly sharpened, her expression darkening as she noticed bloodstains seeping through Qun Qing’s sleeve. 

“Are you injured? Cui Yu, summon the royal physician!”

“There’s no need,” Qun Qing responded quickly, her tone steady but respectful. She hesitated before adding, “I wouldn’t deceive Your Highness. This wound was caused by an attack from one of the gray hawks at Prince Yan’s residence. If it’s recorded in the medical register, I fear I might be punished for leaving the palace without permission.”

Xiao Yunru froze for a moment, shocked. So it was her—this woman had stabbed Prince Yan.

The realization hit, but Qun Qing remained calm, her honesty disarming. She bowed deeply, then confessed, “The slave, Yunu, involved in the Siye Tower case was my benefactor. They entrusted me with an important clue, so the advisor and I worked together to investigate. However, since I hadn’t secured the ledger yet, I didn’t inform Your Highness. For this, I humbly ask for forgiveness.”

Xiao Yunru’s sharp gaze lingered on Qun Qing’s serene expression. Her elegance and clear eyes made it hard to believe she was lying.

But still, doubt lingered. If Qun Qing truly collaborated with the Dali Court, what servant would dare stab someone and take the ledger?

When Qun Qing saw Xiao Yunru’s silence, she understood that once the seeds of suspicion and fear were planted, they would be hard to erase—and that was exactly what she wanted.

If Xiao Yunru had admired her and considered using her before, he would likely think twice now.

“The advisor has already explained this to me,” Xiao Yunru finally said, her tone controlled. “This is good news. There’s no need for concern—please rise.” She softened her voice. 

“That gray hawk was manipulated, causing you unnecessary harm. Use this purple-flower powder. It will stop the bleeding and prevent infection.”

Cui Yu presented the precious purple flower powder on a wooden tray. Qun Qing glanced at the gold screen. Seeing that she wasn’t taking the medicine, Xiao Yunru said seriously, 

“If Lady Qing doesn’t want to use it, remember the name of the medicine and ask the doctor in the palace for it.”

Cui Yu was a little startled when, as Qun Qing took the medicine, she also quietly placed a piece of paper on the wooden tray. Xiao Yunru noticed and winked at Cui Yu to bring the paper, slipping it into his sleeve.

After handing the note to Xiao Yunru, Qun Qing pulled out the ledger from her sleeve. With Xiao Yunru looking on in surprise, she said, 

“I’ve been thinking about it all night. This is the true ledger of Siye Tower. I’m entrusting it to Advisor Lu, not the Censorate. I do this for the refugees and citizens of the city, to bring down the tower faster. I hope Your Highness and the advisor will not betray this trust.”

Her words hung in the air as she bowed again, the white gardenia in her dark hair swaying gently. Behind the golden screen, Lu Huating’s intense gaze followed her retreating figure.

Without another word, Qun Qing rose and left, her steps steady and deliberate.

Lu Huating’s breath hitched slightly, a faint tension tightening his chest.

He remained seated for a moment, lost in thought, before finally stepping out from behind the screen.

Qun Qing heard the crisp sound of footsteps trailing her once more, persistent and unyielding.

She stopped briefly, then continued walking deliberately—through the corridor, across the garden, and toward the stone cave. As soon as she stepped inside, she sensed Lu Huating close behind her, his figure bending slightly to enter the narrow space.

“What is it you want to say to me?” she asked, turning to face Lu Huating with calm composure, her tone distant.

Lu Huating’s sharp eyes focused on the bloodstains darkening her sleeve. His voice was low.

“You don’t want to hear my explanation.”

“What is our relationship? I’m not as skilled as you, so I admit defeat. Why should I hear your explanation?” Qun Qing countered, her tone light yet firm.

Her gaze was steady, her eyes clear and calm, as though this was the most natural conclusion. A faint smile tugged at her lips, but the detachment in her expression was like a douse of cold water. 

Lu Huating’s face grew more serious, though he forced a faint smile. 

“The lady speaks truth.”

Suppressing the emotions stirring faintly within her, Qun Qing reached into the crevice of the stone and retrieved a small bag. She excelled at hiding her vulnerabilities, maintaining a facade of composure that gave no hint of weakness.

When she turned to leave without another word, Lu Huating’s lashes quivered slightly. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his tone tightening.

“Didn’t you gift me these clothes when I first arrived?” Qun Qing replied nonchalantly. 

“I’m taking them now so I won’t have to return. I only came here to collect this bundle. Why are you following me? Did you leave something behind?”

Lu Huating stepped closer, his gaze searching hers as though seeking a crack in her icy demeanor. But her eyes remained cold and emotionless, sharp as a blade of ice pressing against his throat.

She stood before him, unyielding, her air of detachment a mask of mastery. It was as though the person he had known before was an illusion—a carefully constructed disguise.

His shadow mingled with the faint scent of yellow vanilla wafting through the cave, and for a moment, the intensity of her presence disoriented him. Lu Huating managed a wry smile. 

“You’re right. My mistake this time. But spies from Southern chu will die sooner or later.”

“Then what did you think of the gift I left for the Advisor? This time, it was Prince Yan’s shoulder. Next time, I can’t guarantee it won’t be his hand, foot, or even his head.” Qun Qing’s lips curved faintly, but her words carried an edge.

Lu Huating’s fingers curled tightly, his nails pressing into his palm as her words sank in. A faint numbness spread through his chest. 

Her voice softened, almost taunting, as she added, 

“Don’t forget, Advisor, I’m wearing yellow vanilla again. And I’m the only one who knows the antidote to its poison.”

Her reminder was deliberate—a subtle assertion of her value. She couldn’t afford for him to know she had left the palace or to push him too far, lest he retaliate by capturing Lin Yujia.

The faint outline of bandages was visible beneath Lu Huating’s robes. Qun Qing raised her hand, careful to avoid his wound, and gave him a firm push.

But just as she stepped outside, she froze. Li Xuan and Shouxi were waiting at the entrance, their eyes narrowing as they spotted her.