After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 60

The lantern under the eaves hung still, casting overlapping shadows. A dark figure lingered briefly near the stable before stepping into the light. Qun Qing then recognized the figure—it was a woman dressed as a palace maid, swiftly walking ahead with her sleeves tucked in.

Though she wore a palace maid’s outfit, her hair was loose, with strands draping over her pale neck. That familiar gait and posture made Qun Qing quickly step forward to block her path.

Startled, the woman looked up—it was Yang Fu. Her makeup was carefully applied, her lips glossy, though she wore a maid’s attire. Noticing Qun Qing sizing her up, Yang Fu bit her lip in embarrassment and snapped, 

“What? Seeing me like this amuses you?”

Qun Qing didn’t need to ask how she had gotten out. Her disguise clearly served a purpose.

“Who are you here to meet?” Qun Qing glanced at the shadows moving inside a pavilion. “Prince Yan?”

Yang Fu responded coldly, “That’s none of your business. Since no one here cares about me, am I not allowed to find my own way?”

“If you truly came to see Prince Yan on your own, I wouldn’t interfere,” Qun Qing said evenly. “But are you spying for someone?”

Yang Fu froze for a moment before glaring at Qun Qing. 

“And what about you? Have you betrayed Southern Chu?”

Qun Qing hadn’t expected Princess Bao’an to turn bitter after her cold reception and defect to Southern Chu, but on second thought, it was the sort of thing Yang Fu might do.

“Go ahead.” Qun Qing stepped aside decisively. After all, Yang Fu’s feelings for Li Huan were genuine. 

“Let’s see if you can go through with it.”

Yang Fu hesitated briefly before entering the meditation room.

Late that night, Lu Huating returned to his quarters only to find Li Huan’s bed empty, the pillows stacked neatly. Turning back, he hurried outside and followed the trail to the meditation room.

Through the window, he saw the silhouettes of Li Huan and Princess Bao’an embracing.

Jian Su tried to pull him back, only to receive a slap across the face. Though the blow was light, it left Jian Su trembling in shock. Clutching his cheek, he stammered, 

“This subordinate was wrong! The princess used to ignore His Highness completely, but when she finally showed kindness, His Highness brought her out in secret. He knew the advisor wouldn’t approve, so he ordered me to hide it from you…”

Lu Huating’s expression eased, but he sneered coldly. 

“I wonder if a dog cares whether its meat bites back.”

“Advisor, are you saying Princess Bao’an has already sided with Southern Chu?” Jian Su panicked, but Lu Huating didn’t respond.

As they approached the door, a woman stood waiting.

Hearing footsteps, Qun Qing turned, meeting Lu Huating’s gaze briefly before both looked away. Yet in that fleeting moment, unspoken words passed between them.

Qun Qing sensed that Lu Huating’s attention wasn’t on the pair inside. His sharp, upturned eyes seemed fixed on her, as if mocking her past demise, searching her face for any sign of weakness.

But Qun Qing’s heart had long turned to stone, her expression unreadable. 

“Maybe love is just something beyond control,” she remarked.

Lu Huating seemed taken aback by her calm demeanor. He replied indifferently, 

“I wouldn’t know.Do you?”

“Love and desire are human nature,” Qun Qing said lightly. “What’s there to understand? Haven’t you ever been engaged?”

Her words made Lu Huating glance at her sidelong.

Under the moonlight, Qun Qing’s face was serene, untainted by worldly emotions. Lu Huating hadn’t expected her to speak so plainly.

She had been engaged once.

His thoughts strayed momentarily to the crumpled fabric of her dress and the loose clasp he’d noticed earlier.

“People can control themselves. Dogs can’t,” he finally said, his tone icy, laced with mockery.

“I’d never dare speak in such absolutes before the gods,” Qun Qing replied, brushing past him. Noticing the tension in his pale face, she felt a flicker of satisfaction. Tilting her head deliberately, she met his gaze. When he glanced at her, she smiled faintly. 

“You might want to warn Prince Yan to be careful.”

The next day, Qun Qing collected a bag of iron-tipped arrows from the chief eunuch’s office—ten in total. The deer and wild boars in the forest were well-hidden, but these arrows would keep Zheng Zhiyi entertained all day.

The emperor and Prince Zhao had already entered the forest with the Imperial Guards at dawn. The first kills of the morning were traditionally reserved for the emperor. Zheng Zhiyi, unconcerned with such formalities, slept in and joined the concubines later, holding a dress in hand.

“This ceremonial dress was soaked in alum water and left to dry,” she explained to the concubines. “The fabric hardens and drapes better.”

The concubines gathered around, marveling at the stiffened fabric.

“Why are this year’s ceremonial dresses so flimsy?” one asked. “This method is great! I’ll have my maidservants try it when we return.”

“I’ll do the same!”

“If it’s too much trouble,” Zheng Zhiyi offered, “you can send your dresses to my palace. I’ll have them treated for you.”

“Wonderful!” someone exclaimed.

As they chatted, Li Xuan arrived, carrying a robe. He invited the concubines to feast on the emperor’s first catch of the hunt—a ram. The kitchen staff had already skinned, butchered, and roasted it.

The meat, though not particularly delicious, symbolized good fortune. Laughing and chatting, the women crossed the bridge to eat.

Li Xuan glanced at Zheng Zhiyi, then at Qun Qing. 

“What are you up to now?”

“Miss Qun discovered that the ceremonial fabric burns easily,” Zheng Zhiyi explained. “She reported it to the Shangfu Bureau, but they ignored her. So she figured out a way to treat the fabric with alum water and shared it with the Six Palaces.”

Li Xuan’s face darkened as he listened. Since the dresses had already been distributed, it was too late to replace them. He turned to Shouxii.

“Who’s in charge in the Shangfu Bureau? Dereliction of duty! Strip her of her position immediately!”

“Your Highness, please don’t worry,” Qun Qing said. “This might just be me overthinking. There may not be any real issue. For now, let’s just have the dresses treated without alarming anyone.”

Li Xuan glanced at Qun Qing. 

“I find it strange—if there was an issue with the ceremonial robes, why didn’t you just tell me directly?”

Li Xuan’s sharp perception immediately picked up on her guilty conscience. Qun Qing’s lashes trembled as she replied, 

“The head of Shangfu Bureau, Gu Shangyi, has been currying favor and oppressing her subordinates for years. If this servant had informed Your Highness earlier, would Your Highness have been this angry and dismissed her?”

Li Xuan detested being manipulated by others. His gaze darkened. 

“Don’t push your luck just because I indulge you. Don’t get too clever.”

Qun Qing bowed and assented, her back damp with cold sweat as she pulled Zheng Zhiyi away.

From the meditation hall to the forest on the opposite bank, there was no bridge, only a shallow ford. To cross, one had to step on a series of stones in the stream.

The stones allowed only one person to pass at a time. Zheng Zhiyi lifted her skirts and took the lead.

Unexpectedly, someone approached from the opposite direction, and the two met on the narrow path.

The young man wore a coarse monk’s robe and held a string of prayer beads. His dark, bright eyes met Zheng Zhiyi’s, and he raised his hand in a gesture of greeting.

It was Dewu, the young envoy from the Kingdom of Liuli. Recognizing him, Zheng Zhiyi exclaimed excitedly, 

“It’s you—the one who paints ugly portraits!”

Dewu didn’t understand Chinese and hesitated before responding in Sanskrit, 

“Greetings, Crown Princess.”

“I think your ugly painting doesn’t resemble me—it looks like you! Big head, skinny legs, and no hair,” Zheng Zhiyi said, scrutinizing him with a deepening smile. “Am I right?”

Misunderstanding her tone as praise, Dewu blushed shyly and replied with an embarrassed smile, 

“Dewu thanks the Crown Princess for her kind words.”

“Oh, so you agree!” Zheng Zhiyi exclaimed, interpreting his nod in her own way.

Qun Qing, relying on her strong sense of balance, finally squeezed past Zheng Zhiyi to end the absurd conversation.

Unexpectedly, Dewu stepped off the stones into the water. His monk’s robe soaked as he bowed. 

“This humble monk can wade through the stream. Please, take the stones.”

Zheng Zhiyi turned back, staring blankly at Dewu’s retreating figure as he walked through the water. 

“He’s actually quite kind.”

“Lady Qing, the little monk dropped something.” Zheng Zhiyi pointed to a tassel soaking in the water, originally hanging from the end of his prayer beads.

Qun Qing retrieved the tassel. 

“I’ll deliver it back to him after escorting the Crown Princess across.”

An attendant rushed over with the horse Zheng Zhiyi had chosen—a robust chestnut steed snorting white mist as it pawed the ground. The stablemaster hurried over and advised, 

“Crown Princess, this horse seems restless today. Shall I bring another?”

“No need. If I can’t handle a horse, I’d disgrace my father,” Zheng Zhiyi said.

She hugged the horse’s head, stroking it a few times. Whatever she did, the chestnut horse obediently lowered its head. Mounting it in one swift motion, she remarked, 

“I whispered in its ear—it understood.”

The stablemaster looked on in awe, and Qun Qing couldn’t help but admire her.

“Lady Qing, want to hop on? I’ll take you hunting.” Zheng Zhiyi circled the area on horseback, her bow and arrows slung over her back, her energy brimming as if she couldn’t wait to charge into the woods.

“No need,” Qun Qing replied, holding the tassel in hand. “Stablemaster, make sure to stay close to the Crown Princess.”

At Xianyou Temple stood the Dharma King Pagoda, where the relics gifted by the Kingdom of Liuli were stored. This time, Emperor Chenming had invited the foreign envoys to visit the pagoda for viewing.

Atine, who had been publicly reprimanded last time, feigned illness and didn’t come upon hearing that the sharp-tongued Crown Princess would be present. Only two honest envoys arrived, fully absorbed in their Buddhist devotions, leaving Emperor Chenming indifferent and allowing them to roam freely.

Dewu returned, wading through the stream. An old monk had emerged from the pagoda and was meditating on a large stone nearby. 

“The tassel on your prayer beads fell off,” he remarked.

Dewu checked his prayer beads and found the tassel indeed missing. At that moment, he felt a vague sense of foreboding. Grabbing the old monk’s sleeve, he pulled him aside—but it was too late.

An arrow pierced through the air, striking the old monk’s back with such force that it knocked him off the stone and into the stream. Red ripples spread across the water.

Someone leapt into the stream immediately, hauling the old monk out. Lu Huating, soaked from head to toe, pressed against the wound on the monk’s chest to stem the bleeding, dragging him into the meditation hall. 

“Jian Su, call the imperial physician!”

Lu Huating scanned the surroundings, his sharp gaze sweeping over the dense forest. Qun Qing, hiding behind a tree trunk, also scanned the area. The forest was filled with nobles hunting, but the arrow that injured the envoy was clearly no accident.

This was the work of spies from Southern Chu, though not Lin Yujia—he wasn’t skilled in archery. There were spies among the officials ranked sixth or higher.

While Emperor Chenming focused on protecting the nobles, if an envoy died before the offering ceremony for the Buddha’s relics, the entire event would fall into chaos, implicating Prince Yan’s estate.

Thus, Lu Huating was deeply alarmed.

Qun Qing was also tense but didn’t forget to release a signaling arrow.

Inside the meditation hall, Lu Huating continued applying pressure to the old monk’s wound. Suddenly, the door burst open, and Qun Qing entered, supporting a groaning Han Wanyi. Lu Huating froze. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Han Wanyi isn’t feeling well,” Qun Qing replied from behind the screen.

The imperial physician arrived, hesitating as he observed the scene on either side of the screen. By rank, he ought to attend to the dragon fetus first. Lu Huating’s dark eyes flashed with cold anger as he looked at Qun Qing, his hands trembling. It was rare for anyone to push him into such a tight corner.

Sensing his gaze, Qun Qing paused before saying, 

“Lady Wanyi instructed that the envoy’s life is more urgent. Attend to his bleeding first.”

Lu Huating’s hands, tightly binding the wound, momentarily stilled.