After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 9

Yan Prince’s Mansion, Side Hall.
The intricately carved wooden windows were wide open, allowing the gentle rustling of the verdant tree canopies outside to accompany the sweet fragrance of flowers carried by the breeze.

Su Run sat rigidly, his fingers gripping the armrests as the last remnants of the anesthetic faded. His body was wracked with pain, and large beads of sweat rolled down his pale face. The seat Lu Huating had provided seemed more like a form of silent punishment than comfort.
While Su Run struggled, Lu Huating’s brush continued gliding across the paper with fluid strokes.

There was a faint but distinct scent of blood in the air.
Not long before, an assassin had dangled from the eaves, attempting a daring strike through the window. Lu Huating, seated with his back to the window, hadn’t even flinched. Prince Yan’s dark guards swiftly neutralized the threat. After a brief glance at the coin he had tossed on the table, Lu Huating had simply commanded,

“Kill him.”

Now, outside, the dark guards were efficiently dispatching the assassin. Inside, eunuchs diligently wiped away the blood, leaving the room eerily serene once more.

Su Run, still pale and shaken, noted how calm the servants were, suggesting that this kind of danger was routine within the Yan Prince’s Mansion.

He pitied Qun Qing, a young lady from the inner palace. How could she have imagined the kind of life lived by men who danced on the edge of death?

Despite the oppressive summer heat, Lu Huating remained impeccably composed, his features as delicate as jade, exuding an air of calm elegance. He appeared so serene that one might easily forget the lethal chaos outside the window.

Within the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the stack of documents Lu Huating was working on had grown, but his slender hands swiftly organized them with practiced ease. Finally, he turned his attention to Su Run.

“I’ve finished reviewing these. Scholar Su, do you still refuse to speak?”

A faint smile played at Lu Huating’s lips as he raised his gaze, his dark eyes harboring a quiet menace that sent a chill down Su Run’s spine. Though it was their first encounter, Su Run couldn’t shake the feeling that Lu Huating’s calm exterior masked something far more dangerous.

“No one instructed me!” Su Run stammered, desperate to defend himself. “I heard from colleagues that Advisor Lu had longstanding grievances with Meng. Since I had offended Meng, I thought I’d seek refuge here. The enemy of my enemy is my friend—that’s all.”

Earlier, the people of the Yan Prince’s Mansion had grilled him with suspicion, but Su Run had clung to Qun Qing’s advice, insisting that he had come on his own accord. Yet, the calculating gaze of Lu Huating suggested that convincing him wouldn’t be so simple.

“Then how did you know Meng Guanlou was going to kill you this afternoon?” Lu Huating’s sharp gaze cut through him. “It seems too convenient. You didn’t come sooner or later, but right before his move. Who told you? Where did you hear about this?”

“That… it really was just a coincidence…” Su Run stammered, on the verge of breaking down. “I swear, I had no idea anyone was plotting against me this afternoon.”

Just then, the curtains swayed as a dark guard entered and reported,

“Advisor, we searched the six department of palace services’ registry—there is no female official by the name of Qun Qing.”

Hearing this, Su Run froze. Had he accidentally let Qun Qing’s name slip? No, he hadn’t mentioned her at all! How had Lu Huating known? Could the man read minds?

In that instant, he realized his mistake. When he glanced at Lu Huating, the other man was already watching him, and Su Run’s reaction had given everything away.

Lu Huating’s sharp, upturned eyes pierced through him like a blade at his throat. He seemed amused by something. “Was it someone named Qun Qing who sent you to find me?”

“No, it wasn’t!” Su Run’s eyes widened with panic. “The colleague who told me is surnamed Zhang. The person you mentioned—I don’t know them.”

Lu Huating merely smiled.
Without waiting for Su Run to offer more excuses, he had already grown tired of the conversation. He ordered for the “grand gift” Su Run had brought and pulled out a dagger to pry open the wooden boxes, revealing the pastries inside.

Without a second thought, he crushed each one in his hand.

Su Run watched in anger as the pastries Qun Qing had carefully prepared were destroyed so callously. How could Lu Huating treat her efforts with such contempt?

Lu Huating calmly wiped his hands with a cloth, his expression unreadable.
This woman was always so cautious and clever. She had sent Su Run with a gift, yet no hidden notes or messages accompanied it.

From a spy’s perspective, staying hidden made sense. Perhaps, even as far back as the first year of Shenglin, she had harbored such deep feelings for this ninth-ranked scholar that she would risk everything to save him.

Perhaps.
Lu Huating’s gaze shifted to Su Run, now visibly unsettled. This man’s sudden illness during that fateful summer had marked the beginning of Qun Qing’s tragic fall.

It seemed even those in favor held varying degrees of importance.
Lu Huating hadn’t found anything particularly remarkable about Su Run.

The dagger pried open another box, sending wooden shards scattering across the floor. As Lu Huating worked, a sudden realization struck Su Run: Qun Qing had asked him to hide his identity because Lu Huating was searching for someone…

…he was searching for her.

With a tearing sound, Lu Huating ripped open the silk lining at the bottom of the wooden box, revealing a small, bright red seal no larger than a fingernail.
Lu Huating set the box aside.

“She’s in the Yeting Court.”

“Who is this person, and why is Master going to such lengths to find her?” Su Run asked cautiously, glancing at the red characters on the seal. In recent days, the Master had been in a foul mood, his cold aura making everyone too frightened to speak freely.

Surely, it was Meng Guanlou who had provoked his anger.

Due to the sweltering heat, Lu Huating picked up a folding fan, gently fanning his face, the breeze ruffling the dark hair at his temples. “There’s an old tale about a man who dreamt that, twenty years in the future, he would be killed by a young man he didn’t recognize. When he woke, he discovered the young man was still just a babbling toddler. What should he do?”

“Find the child and kill him immediately,” came a hoarse female voice from the window.

Su Run turned in shock to see a female guard feeding raw meat to a grey falcon. Thin and cold, her expression remained emotionless, as if her words were the most natural thing in the world. “If he doesn’t kill him now, should he wait for the boy to grow up and kill him instead?”

Lu Huating’s eyes, filled with the same coldness, deepened in amusement as he heard her response. “Bring me another coin.”

“I’ve got it,” Kuang Su said, pulling a coin from her sleeve. “The inscription means death, while the auspicious beast signifies life. I’ll toss it.” She flicked the coin into the air.

Su Run’s pupils contracted, his body pinned to the chair by two guards, barely able to feel the pain in his back. He still remembered how casually Lu Huating had used a coin earlier, deciding an assassin’s fate without even bothering to interrogate him.

He never imagined that Qun Qing, who hadn’t even met Lu Huating yet, would be facing death—such a careless death, and all because of some dream.
Su Run watched the coin spin in the air, cold sweat trickling down his back. Its shadow flickered in Lu Huating’s dark eyes. Just as the coin began to fall, a fan struck it, knocking it out of the air and concealing the result beneath it.

Lu Huating gazed silently at the white surface of the fan, his expression unreadable.
“I told you to bring it to me, not to toss it,” he said. With a clink, the coin was swept into a drawer. When he looked up again, his face was indifferent, as though, like many things in this mansion, some were mere amusements, and others had simply lost his interest. “Your throw doesn’t count.”

Kuang Su and Juan Su exchanged a quick glance, pursing their lips before retreating to the side. The female guard resumed feeding the falcon, well-accustomed to Lu Huating’s temper.

Lu Huating then pulled out two recommendation letters from the drawer.
“Does Master truly intend to help that Meng Bao Shu and send her to Luanyi Pavilion?” Juan Su asked, seeing the Princess Consort’s seal in his hand.

He held a low opinion of Lady Meng. She had knocked on the door several times, requesting an audience, refusing to leave even after being turned away. She claimed to be Lu Huating’s distant cousin, newly arrived from Longyou, and insisted on meeting him. Lu Huating hadn’t opened the door, saying he didn’t know her. Later, Lady Meng delivered a recommendation letter and a broken piece of a yellow jade pendant before leaving gracefully.

Looking back, it wasn’t that Lu Huating didn’t recognize her; he simply knew her intentions weren’t good. This made Juan Su uneasy.

Lu Huating didn’t answer, pressing the blood-red seal firmly onto the blank space of the letter. His mind was elsewhere.
Qun Qing daring to send Su Run so early was unexpected. Yet, that incident with the black dog’s blood and Meng Guanlou’s insults hadn’t occurred in his previous life. He needed more time to observe the unfolding situation.

Still, he knew that the female official and Princess Bao An shared a deep bond. Having someone else occupy Qun Qing’s position and block her path was inevitable.

The seal imprint was crisp and clear. Lu Huating casually handed the letter to Juan Su. “Remind Meng Bao Shu of the promise she made to me.”

At this moment, Qun Qing was bidding farewell to Lady Zhang.
Lady Zhang, however, ignored her, instead harshly scolding a young maid who had made a mistake. The poor maid, in tears, rushed out of the room, but Qun Qing knew who Lady Zhang truly wanted to scold. She approached with a forced smile.
“Lady Zhang, there are no more rats in the Northern Storehouse.”

Lady Zhang responded coldly, “Why are you telling me? I can’t be responsible for you anymore!”

“Please don’t be angry, Lady Zhang. It was my fault—I nearly caused you trouble.” Qun Qing awkwardly set the ledger and keys from the Northern Storehouse in front of her. “I’ve sorted the account books and brought them back to you.”

Lady Zhang sighed, her gaze falling on the items before her. “I understand. Your family was destroyed by the Emperor of Chu, so I see why you wouldn’t want to serve his daughter. But you can’t act like that—you insulted her in front of everyone! At that moment, I was already thinking about where we’d end up buried.”

“Where we’d be buried?” Qun Qing asked, genuinely curious.

“There’s a big tree near the mass grave to the south—can you stop interrupting me?” Lady Zhang scolded. “No matter how much Princess Bao An has fallen, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. And now you’re following that… that wild man from the mountains. Do you really think that’s a wise choice?”

She made a gesture of two fingers walking across her palm.

“Lady Zhang, those were horse bandits, not wild men,” Qun Qing quietly corrected, bracing herself. “Even horse bandits have their own factions and systems.”

“So you knew all along!” Lady Zhang exclaimed, astonished. “That Concubine Zheng came from horse bandits—how could she ever become an empress? She’s lucky the Emperor gave her the title of Concubine out of old affection! Anyone with sense knows that Princess Bao An will be the Crown Princess sooner or later, and when that happens, she’ll be empress. Do you really think you’ll have a good life then?”

That’s not so certain, Qun Qing thought to herself.
In her previous life, part of the reason Princess Bao An became Crown Princess was due to her own scheming.

She had come intending to smooth things over for her recent behavior and had already prepared a lie. But unexpectedly, Lady Zhang trusted her so much that she had even made an excuse on her behalf.

What Lady Zhang referred to as “family confiscation” wasn’t her experience, but the tragic background of the original “Qun Qing,” a maidservant from the Yeting Court. Reflecting on this, Qun Qing handed a basket of neatly folded winter clothes to Lady Zhang.
“Could I trouble you, Lady Zhang, to have someone deliver these to my father?”

When Qun Qing first assumed the identity of the palace maid “Qun Qing,” she had searched through the maid’s belongings and found a half-finished set of winter clothes. Every year, this poor maid, who had passed away from illness, would send winter clothes to her father.
“Qun Qing’s” father, Qun Cang, had been punished for speaking out years ago, leading to his family’s enslavement. He himself had been sentenced to life imprisonment and remained locked away in prison.

Lady Zhang glanced at the winter clothes and her face filled with concern. “You’ve offended Princess Bao An. What will you do from here on?”

Qun Qing couldn’t help but look at Lady Zhang, slightly confused. “Lady Zhang, you blame me for being reckless, but I’d like to ask you something.”
She continued, “Throughout this journey, you’ve cared for me and supported me—I can feel it. Aren’t you afraid of offending others?”

Lady Zhang froze for a moment, then her gaze softened. She spoke lightly, “I’ve been in the Yeting Court for twenty years—what’s there to fear? What can that old eunuch Pei do to me? You’ve noticed as well. Bao Shu is a noblewoman from an established family. Her real destination is the Six Departments. Passing through our hands is merely a step in her palace training, a chance to build connections. That’s precisely why I must help you.”

“There are those who are destined for greatness, but you and I are no more than lowly servants. If you don’t seize this chance to leave, you’ll end up like me—twenty years of laundry and scrubbing chamber pots, grinding away any ambition.”

Lady Zhang sighed deeply. “When I first trained all of you, I was harsh—scolding and beating you—but you never held it against me. Your talents and character don’t belong in the Yeting Court. I, Zhang Si Niang, don’t help just anyone. I’ve chosen you because I see you’re someone who repays kindness.”

Qun Qing’s expression shifted. “Lady Zhang, is there something you need me to do? Just tell me.”
Whatever it was, she would find a way to accomplish it.

“No, no—it’s really nothing, just a personal favor,” Lady Zhang hesitated before shyly saying, “If you ever have the fortune of becoming a court official, please find a way to get me out of the palace. Like you, I’ve been a servant here since childhood, and I’ve never seen what the outside world looks like. I don’t want to end up in a mass grave.”

Qun Qing nodded in agreement. Lady Zhang smiled, adjusting her clothes and hair with a hint of melancholy. “It’s a shame—no one will help me manage the storehouse anymore. It’s such a big storehouse…”

As Qun Qing set off, she heard Lady Zhang calling out behind her, her voice louder, “Qun Qing! You’re too headstrong, but remember—you’re just a servant now. You need to learn how to lower your head! I was only joking earlier; maybe that dream is too far-fetched. If you can’t become a court official, so be it—just staying alive is more important!”

With that, Lady Zhang bowed deeply, assuming the posture of a maidservant before a third-rank palace maid as she saw her off from afar.

The wind in the narrow, worn-out alley lifted Qun Qing’s robes and shawl high. She looked at the small figure standing far away, separated by rows of rooftops, and felt a deep stirring in her heart.

In her past life, she had been so focused on seeking death that she never looked back, missing how many people had silently protected her, sending her off from behind.

It turns out her life had been worth so much.

Qun Qing held back the warmth in her eyes and bowed deeply in return, bending low across the alleyways, her sleeves fluttering in the wind.

In this life, staying alive… is more important.