After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 57

Xiao Yunru’s request was straightforward. She was concerned about Gu Shangyi’s work and asked Qun Qing to visit the Shangfu Bureau’s warehouse. Her task was to check if the supplies needed for welcoming the Buddha’s relics were well-prepared and whether the costs were justified.

This assignment was bound to offend others,  but fortunately Gu Shangyi had to take a day off every once in a while, so Qunqing took advantage of her leave to go to the Shangfu Bureau.

The double rows of cabinets were tall, housing the clothing of noble lords and high-ranking ministers. Some items were newly made, while others were waiting for repairs. The lavish atmosphere made the room seem even brighter.

Qun Qing walked between the cabinets, inspecting everything carefully. She touched the stitches of the garments and found them neat and precise, with no issues in the material quality.

The accessories in the Treasure Division under the Shangfu Bureau were even more dazzling. Among them, Qun Qing noticed a golden hairpin with a toad design, a pattern forbidden in Liuli Country. She pointed it out to the female official guiding her, who reluctantly noted it down.

“May I also check the carpets?” Qun Qing asked.

Unhappy with Qun Qing’s thoroughness, the attendant cast a glance at the high shelves. 

“The carpet is placed so high and it’s heavy. My arms aren’t strong enough to lift it. If you can move it, feel free to inspect it.”

The attendant’s disdain quickly turned to shock. Qun Qing dragged over a wooden rack to stand on, tiptoed slightly, and lifted the rolled-up Persian carpet into her arms. Turning, she dropped it onto the floor with a loud thud, raising a cloud of dust.

“Sister, you’ve worked hard accompanying me through this inspection,” Qun Qing said softly, catching her breath. “Your arm seems injured; why not take a rest? I’ll finish the inspection and put everything back myself.”

The attendant glanced at Qun Qing’s arm, too frustrated to speak, and left the room.

Relieved, Qun Qing examined the carpet, which was a deep maroon with a pattern of golden diamonds. She carefully unrolled it bit by bit, her slender fingers brushing over every section. Initially, she was checking for bumps or other defects, but her fingers suddenly encountered a damp patch on the diamond pattern.

The carpet was wet, which, if left unaddressed, could lead to mold and discoloration. Qun Qing unrolled it further and touched other sections, finding that all the diamond patterns were damp.

It seemed the Shangfu Bureau had been negligent. Perhaps the carpet was stored so high because it had been exposed to a leak. Qun Qing instinctively sniffed her fingers and caught a sharp, familiar scent. Her expression froze.

She sniffed again—it was unmistakably the smell of castor oil.

A chilling realization crept up her spine as she recalled helping Lin Yujia purchase a large quantity of castor oil in the past. Hastily unrolling the carpet further, she discovered that only the diamond patterns were soaked in castor oil, while the other areas remained untouched.

She parted the long fibers to reveal cotton threads soaked in oil, connecting the diamond patterns like wicks.

At that moment, Qun Qing remembered the sparks she had seen with Lan Yue when arranging the ceremonial robes. A grim suspicion formed in her mind.

Just then, she heard a faint creak from the door. Glancing up, she caught sight of a pair of eyes peering through the crack. Rushing to the door, she opened it, but the person fled too quickly, disappearing without a trace. A female attendant stationed at the Chongjing Hall’s entrance walked in. 

“Have you finished the inspection? Any issues?”

Realizing the spy might be nearby, Qun Qing replied calmly, 

“Just a bit of dampness. It won’t affect much. The carpet is too heavy for me to return alone—could you assist me?”

Grumbling, the attendant reluctantly helped. Qun Qing then asked, 

“Could I also review the documents issued by the Ministry of Rites?”

She skimmed the dense text and confirmed her suspicion: it was Lin Yujia, the Ministry of Rites officer, who had suggested using Huanxue Silk for ceremonial robes to save costs.

To confirm her suspicions, Qun Qing hurried back to Qingxuan Pavilion and retrieved one of Zheng Zhiyi’s prayer gowns from the storeroom. She held the corner of the sleeve over a candle flame. In an instant, the gown caught fire, blazing brightly before shrinking into a small piece of black charcoal that dropped to the ground.

She had been so focused on castor oil’s toxicity that she forgot it was still oil, and any oil could ignite.

During the ceremony to welcome the Buddha’s bones, Emperor Chen Ming and his entourage would walk on that carpet, surrounded by Jinwu Guards, making close-range assassination nearly impossible.

But if someone were to toss a flint onto the carpet’s diamond patterns from a distance, the flames would quickly spread along the cotton threads and diamond designs, reaching the nobles. The fire would then ignite the prayer gowns trailing behind them…

Could this be the grand plan Lin Yujia was plotting?

It was truly insane.

Although one seamstress had already been arrested in the Shangfu Bureau, there could still be spies helping Lin Yujia tamper with the carpet. The person spying on her earlier was likely one of these spies—possibly an “Elite” in their network?

Since Lin Yujia could secretly communicate with other “Heavens,” it wouldn’t be surprising if she recruited other “Elite”

Qun Qing feared exposing that she had switched sides, so she refrained from revealing the carpet’s issue. However, not knowing who the spy was made the situation even trickier.

This ceremony to welcome the Buddha’s relics was Qun Qing’s chance to leave the palace. If an accident occurred, everyone would be detained for investigation. Fortunately, she had discovered the problem in advance.

She had to eliminate the danger without alarming the spy.

At that moment, Lan Yue walked in and noticed the blackened charcoal on the table. Before she could ask, Qun Qing said, “This is the Crown Princess’s prayer gown.”

Lan Yue gasped.

“I accidentally touched the candle with it just now, and this is what happened,” Qun Qing explained.

“What should we do? Everyone only has two gowns, and now…”

“Don’t you think this prayer gown is dangerous?” Qun Qing said. “During the ceremony, there will be incense. If a spark lands on this, someone could be completely engulfed in flames.”

Lan Yue’s face paled. “What do we do, then?”

“Report this to Gu Shangyi in the Shangfu Bureau,” Qun Qing instructed. “Say that the robes are highly flammable which poses a hidden danger. Ask the Shangfu Bureau to quickly produce new ones with different materials.”

To have Lan Yue report the matter according to palace rules was to cut off the danger and absolve herself.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go right away…” Lan Yue quickly changed her clothes.

Qun Qing also washed and dressed.

She styled her hair, removed her hairpins, and tied her shawl into a knot on her skirt—preparing for the annual Xia Yuan Festival.

For palace maids, this was the one day of the year they could leave the palace to see their families, so naturally, they competed to be the first.

Ah Jiang, similarly dressed with precision, urged Qun Qing to tighten her shoes. 

“When a thousand or eight hundred people all rush out at once, it’s a race. Don’t lose your shoes or let your hair get messed up.”

Qun Qing, having just met Fang Xie, replied, “I’m not in that much of a hurry.”

Ah Jiang, with her experience, countered, “You might not be in a rush, but others will be. The crowd will carry you along whether you like it or not. Do you think you can resist it, Sister Qing?”

Qun Qing silently tightened her shoes. Seeing her, Ruo Chan and Ah Meng couldn’t hide their envy. At least Qun Qing and Ah Jiang had family waiting for them outside the palace. They, however, had no one left and were as rootless as drifting leaves.

When the palace gates finally opened, Qun Qing was struck by the grandeur of the scene.

As soon as the eunuchs opened the gates, Ah Jiang shot out like an arrow. The palace maids in front of and behind Qun Qing also dashed forward. Some quickly found their families, while others searched in vain amidst the sea of people, their cries of grief mingling with the chaotic joy of the crowd.

In this frenzy, Qun Qing remained unusually calm. She walked out slowly, moving against the tide of people.

From the city tower above, the scene appeared as a field of shimmering lights—lanterns of all shapes and sizes carried by the people waiting outside the palace.

“Oh, today is Xia Yuan Festival—the day the palace maids can meet their families,” Zhang Jun remarked as he chatted with Lu Huating. Noticing Lu Huating gazing downward, he paused.

They had been discussing the return of Prince Yan and Prince Zhao to the capital, which had greatly pleased the emperor and led to the granting of new titles and rewards.

Since Prince Yan’s merits now outweighed his faults, it was time to bring some matters to light. The secret guards of Prince Yan’s residence had sent a confession to the emperor, admitting their collusion with the secret guards of Meng Guanlou’s estate in orchestrating the East Market attack. Prince Yan had been an innocent victim.

Meng Guanlou, weeping bitterly, admitted guilt and claimed the incident stemmed from his personal grudge against Lu Huating, with no intent to harm the crown prince. The emperor, enraged, demoted him to a lowly eighth-rank magistrate of Songyang County and exiled him from Chang’an.

Most men would discuss such political matters with animated fervor, but Lu Huating remained relaxed and casual—a manner Zhang Jun had come to expect.

Yet the scene below the city tower was hard to ignore. The two watched the waves of palace maids pouring out, merging with the crowd of waiting relatives holding lanterns.

“Are the lanterns meant for the palace maids to see?” Lu Huating’s gaze fell on the largest, farthest moon-shaped lantern. He found its bearer clever, holding it high on a long pole so it could be seen from afar, ensuring it wouldn’t pass unnoticed by the intended recipient.

“Yes, in recent years, people have come up with this method. More and more lanterns are being used, turning it into quite the spectacle,” Zhang Jun explained.

Soon, Lu Huating noticed a figure in blue gauze running toward the edge of the crowd.

The person holding the moon lantern stood on the outskirts of the gathering. The palace maid’s figure broke free from the crowd.

Lu Huating was startled by how familiar Qun Qing’s silhouette was to him—he recognized her in an instant.

His face remained expressionless as his dark eyes tracked the shrinking distance between the two figures. Then, suddenly, the lantern bearer stepped forward and embraced her.

The swaying light of the lantern cast flickering shadows. They hugged tightly, showing no sign of parting.

That swaying light seemed to dance in Lu Huating’s black, mercury-like eyes.

“What is the advisor looking at?” Zhang Jun asked, curious.

Lu Huating replied, “Watching two people embracing.”

“Isn’t that normal? Many palace maids have sweethearts waiting for them outside the palace. They meet only once a year…” Zhang Jun trailed off as Lu Huating turned his gaze away, seemingly losing interest—or perhaps sinking into his thoughts.

It had never occurred to him before that Qun Qing might have family, friends, or even a lover outside the palace.

She might fall into someone else’s arms, share such intimacy, and perhaps even more.

This other side of her, naturally taking place beyond his sight, wasn’t meant for him to know.

Lu Huating descended the city tower swiftly. Though the scene he had witnessed wasn’t extraordinary, a strange undercurrent surged within him, like the night’s shadows enclosing him from all sides.

He had always been cold and detached, indifferent to the coyness of women before their lovers.

But if it was Qun Qing… he found himself strangely curious, for he had never seen it before. Yet the moment he imagined such tenderness directed at someone else, his interest vanished instantly. The dark undercurrent surged again, like countless knives twisting in his stomach.