After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 106

Li Xuan said, “Come inside and speak.”

Memorials were stacked high on the Crown Prince’s desk. From behind a beaded curtain, Qun Qing watched Bao Shu grinding ink for him. Li Xuan sat at the desk, wide-robed and long-sleeved, carrying a faint air of imperial majesty.

He handed a small scroll to Shouxi, who in turn passed it to Qun Qing.

Qun Qing unrolled it—it was an ink painting. In the painting, a richly dressed woman held a round fan embroidered with Siamese butterflies.

At the sight of the fan, a vivid memory surfaced in Qun Qing’s mind: back in Old Chu, Princess Changping had owned just such a fan, embroidered with one of the seventeen Princess Yang Fu’s cherished pet cats.

Li Xuan said, “The Queen of Gaochang once visited Old Chu and was deeply taken with Princess Changping’s fan. She never forgot it, so they recreated this image to circulate. The envoy has now come to Dacheng seeking this style of dimensional embroidery to adorn their royal attire. Do you know what kind of embroidery it is? Can the Shangfu Bureau reproduce it?”

Qun Qing replied, “Your Highness, this is kesi embroidery. Instead of a fabric base, it uses silk threads as the warp, with colored threads woven across to form the image.”

Bao Shu interjected, “Kesi embroidery? I’ve read countless texts on needlework and never seen such a thing recorded. What obscure craft is this from? Your Highness, from the way I see it, this resembles a double-sided embroidery from Zhongzhou far more. Even if I may be lacking, I am still born of a noble family and once served at the Shangfu Bureau. How could a former palace maid like her know what kind of fan a princess once used?”

Qun Qing said nothing.

It was no surprise that Bao Shu, who craved power, would try to seize control and deliberately challenge her.

Seeing Bao Shu pressing relentlessly, Li Xuan merely smiled and turned to Qun Qing. 

“You were going to say something?”

Qun Qing remained silent, so he waved Bao Shu away. Then, lifting his gaze, he saw the slim silhouette behind the curtain.

Qun Qing said, “I’ve returned from Yunzhou, and to my surprise, the governor there has colluded with Southern Chu in secret. Prince Yan and the Advisor remain stationed in Yunzhou, and I fear…”

The tranquil atmosphere shattered instantly. At the mention of Prince Yan, Li Xuan’s expression turned to ice. “This is not your place to speak. That’s enough.”

Silence filled the hall. Qun Qing knelt down and continued, “If any change arises, Yunzhou could see conflict. The Advisor has already submitted a memorial requesting permission for the Prince Yan’s forces to reinforce Yunzhou, or for an imperial force to be dispatched.”

Li Xuan suddenly flung his writing brush. The sound of it hitting the beaded curtain rang out crisply. The slender silhouette behind the curtain didn’t flinch, which only stoked his fury.

“You—a mere inner court woman—are worried sick? Speaking for the Prince Yan’s house? Have you lost your mind to favoritism?”

Qun Qing answered coldly, “Your Highness is the Crown Prince. Upon hearing that war may be near, should your first concern be the security of the country, not whom I choose to worry about?”

Li Xuan’s breath caught in his chest. After a moment, he chuckled. “So I’ve disappointed you.”

Indeed, Qun Qing did feel a measure of disappointment. She had long known that Li Xuan was not the benevolent ruler the people had imagined in her previous life, but she had still hoped he might differ from the others.

She raised her head; the lamplight shimmered in her eyes, revealing a hint of fragility. 

“Your Highness, I’ve lived through a coup. Under the clash of gold and iron, whether princess or noble, they’re no different from dust and sand. I stayed in the palace as an official not to vie for power, but to build a sandcastle—fragile, yes, but better than letting everything fall to ruin.

Li Xuan studied her for a long moment, his expression complex. 

“I understand your meaning. But remember: if sacrifices are to be made, the question of who holds rightful claim to that sandcastle must come first. Only then can it be built higher. That is the way of kings, always has been.”

Receiving this response, Qun Qing said nothing more. Amid the thunder and lightning, she bowed and left the Eastern Palace in haste.

Leaning back in his chair, Li Xuan watched her figure recede into the distance through the window. His face betrayed no expression, but suddenly he swept the paperweight from his desk, sending it crashing to the floor.

“Summon Wang Xiang. Tell him to take men to Yunzhou,” Li Xuan said after a long silence.

Shouxi hurried out. The commotion drew Meng Guangshen at the door. Hearing the order, he strode into the hall. 

“Your Highness, why make such a foolish decision?”

In the gloom of the storm, Li Xuan calmly flipped through memorials. He had regained his composure, even wore a faint, relieved smile. 

“I am the Crown Prince. As Crown Prince, I make decisions. Now that I’m regent, the decisions I make are those of a ruler.”

What sovereign would willingly give up their lands and see their people suffer?

Meng Guangshen stared at him, then said, “Your Highness, don’t lose your head. You are only acting as regent. If the Emperor wishes, he can reclaim that authority at any time. If Yunzhou rebels and Prince Yan is wounded, then both the corruption and the Prince will be dealt with in one stroke. If we lose the city, we can recover it later. But if Prince Yan returns alive, that will be trouble.”

“So the Grand Chancellor already knew Southern Chu had infiltrated Yunzhou?”

Meng Guangshen heard the accusation and tightened his lips. 

“Your Highness wishes to be a virtuous and just ruler—have you forgotten one thing?”

Li Xuan’s hand trembled. “Are you threatening me?”

“To be a righteous sovereign, one must first face their own conscience. As long as that matter exists, Your Highness will never again be the flawless prince you once were. So why deceive yourself?”

Meng Guangshen stepped out through the main hall. Bao Shu, visibly uneasy, asked, 

“Father, did you argue with His Highness again? Why was he breaking things?”

“This matter doesn’t concern you.” Meng Guangshen gently patted her head. To Bao Shu’s shock, she realized that in just a year’s time, her father’s silky black hair had begun to turn white. Like a statue cracked and weathered by age, the youthful gentleness he once embodied had withered into something much starker.

The death of her brother, the collapse of the investigation—each event had been like snow weighing down a fragile branch. Bao Shu felt a deep, creeping fear.

“His Majesty has never liked Prince Yan. Even if the Crown Prince is at fault, and we’ve done good and evil both over the years, it’s not something he’ll change easily, is it, father?”

“You’re not wrong,” Meng Guangshen smiled faintly, “The human heart is the most unpredictable. As long as His Majesty’s stance remains, Prince Yan and Lu Huating—neither one will ever be allowed near that position.”

—

In the archives of the Imperial Library, Qun Qing finally found a record containing the technique of kesi embroidery. Though the technique originated among commoners, and was once offered in tribute to Lord Changping, it hadn’t entered general use. Only one official volume, composed by a particularly meticulous scribe, contained the relevant entry.

But as she entered the Inner Ward with this knowledge, she found the female officials of the Shangfu Bureau already lining up before two looms—working on double-sided embroidery.

“Who gave you permission to weave double-sided embroidery?”

The women replied, “It was under His Highness’s orders. The matter of the butterfly embroidery for the foreign envoy was entrusted to Consort Meng. She commanded us to begin at once, fearing any delay might offend the guests.”

The women hurried to resume their embroidery. Amid the flurry of flying needles and moving threads, Qun Qing once again felt a deep sense of being excluded. She asked Zhu Fuzhen,

“Did you tell them that the ‘Siamese Butterfly Play’ fan painting is actually a kesi (cut silk) embroidery?”

Zhu Fuzhen replied, “I mentioned it earlier, but most of the court seamstresses have never even heard of this technique, so naturally they didn’t believe it.”

Qun Qing opened the court record and showed her the illustration where the Siamese Butterfly Play fan was depicted. Zhu Fuzhen was clearly moved, but still said, 

“It does look more like kesi embroidery. But just look at the weaving method—each weft thread must be passed through individually, and no two are placed the same way. Even working one loom alone, a person could barely complete anything. Right now the seamstresses are doing double-sided embroidery—two working together can at least finish a piece. The foreign envoy only provided one illustration; how can we ensure perfect replication from that alone? For the Six Department of Palace Services, getting the task done and meeting the deadline is what matters most.”

Seeing she couldn’t persuade her, Qun Qing closed the book and turned to leave.

“Don’t go just yet. I know Consort Meng is deliberately targeting you, but if you leave out of anger, isn’t that playing into her hands?” Zhu Fuzhen furrowed her brow. “You embroider faster than any of us—why not stay and lead the others? I’ll assign three seamstresses to help you do the kesi embroidery.”

Qun Qing said, “This concerns diplomatic relations. Precision is crucial. I’m not angry—I simply cannot continue knowingly doing the wrong thing. I don’t want to make things difficult for the Shangfu Bureau. Go ahead and proceed as scheduled. I’ll think of another way.”

The seamstresses watched her figure vanish beyond the door.

As a court lady, Qun Qing truly was a little too headstrong. Consort Meng was favored and bent on suppressing her. Though Qun Qing held the title of Fourth Grade Official, she held no real power. Who knew how much longer she could stay in the bureau…

The lanterns of Prince Yan’s residence glowed faintly yellow through the rainy night.

When Jian Su brought tribute apples into the hall, he saw gleaming axes and long knives on the ground and widened his eyes slightly.

Qun Qing was kneeling among wooden planks, drawing cutting lines onto them. The Shangfu Bureau had assumed kesi embroidery was too labor-intensive, unaware that the ancient texts actually contained the loom’s dimensions. It was originally designed by folk seamstresses from the former dynasty, and the palace once had a model—one that her mother had once brought home, and she had touched. Now she wanted to try rebuilding it by the book. If it worked, it could be reused in the future.

Jian Su saw her slender hands lift a long knife. Just as he was about to caution her, she had already split a board with two or three clean chops and began delicately carving it.

Marking, chopping, hammering—sweat beaded on Qun Qing’s forehead, mixing with the damp air, yet her heart remained utterly calm and focused.

Perhaps it was because she knew that doing this mattered more than being a spy or taking a life. Even if it was just a loom, it was something she had genuinely wanted to build in her youth while reading and embroidering.

“Madam Qing, are you building a loom?” Jian Su curiously touched the makeshift wooden frame and asked what exactly she was doing.

Qun Qing began stretching warp threads across the frame and responded, 

“Did I wake the princess?”

As she looked up, Jian Su rolled up his sleeves and picked up an axe. 

“Is this for Shangfu Bureau? How many of these looms do you need?”

Qun Qing couldn’t stop him and found it somewhat absurd. 

“Not for the bureau—this is my own idea. I said it before: can you help me make forty?”

Jian Su’s face hardened. He immediately put the axe down.

He said, “Madam Qing, wait a moment.”

With that, he took the book of records and walked out. Moments later, Qun Qing noticed a great firelight blooming in the courtyard and heard the steady sound of footsteps. Rushing to the window, she saw over thirty household guards standing in formation, even the royal kitchen staff among them, each holding planks of wood, quietly waiting for Jian Su’s orders.

Soon after, they dispersed, and the yard filled with the clamor of chopping and hammering.

Qun Qing’s mind buzzed. She called Jian Su inside. 

“There was no need to make such a commotion. It might disturb the princess.”

Jian Su said, “Madam Qing, when do you think you’d finish it all on your own? This way is faster.”

Qun Qing smiled. “You’re not even asking what I’m making it for?”

“It must be useful,” Jian Su replied. “The Advisor said, Madam Qing is smarter than most people. So whatever you want to do, we don’t need to question it.”

Qun Qing’s expression paused. She hadn’t expected such a high opinion from Lu Huating. If anyone else had said it, it might not have meant much. But coming from her longtime rival, it struck her differently.

Jian Su then pulled out a letter from a carrier pigeon. The writing on the flower-scented paper was in Zhao-style calligraphy:
“Qun Qing’s orders are equivalent to mine. Do not delay.”

Qun Qing stared at it for a long while, then asked for the first time, 

“When will Prince Yan and the Advisor return?”

“Advisor sent word: Wang Xiang has taken reinforcements, the crisis in Yunzhou is resolved. They’re escorting Offical Liu back with the Dali Court, but the floods have damaged roads—they’re making slow progress and will need time.”

After he left, Qun Qing looked again at the yellow pearwood vanity. She walked over and found the drawer still sealed with red silk, slightly trembling.

Without knowing why, she gently opened and closed the drawer.

Her fingers paused—inside wasn’t empty. A bright red silk flower lay there, dazzling to the eye.

Since no one else was around, Qun Qing let down her hair and sat before the mirror. She placed the flower at her temple. The woman in the reflection looked strangely vivid, even unfamiliar. Her danger instincts stirred; she quickly took it off and put it silently back.

Someone knocked on the palace door.

It was Physician Li, his white beard wet with dew, his expression grim. Qun Qing’s heart sank. “Master, is there a problem with Her Highness’s pregnancy?”

Physician Li had been quietly treating the princess for several days. After closing the door, he spoke gravely, “Madam, I’ve always told you not to treat nobles. When the palace is full of hidden daggers, involving yourself in such matters is dangerous.”

Qun Qing replied, “At least you have the skill to keep her safe. Right now I’m the only one from Prince Yan’s household. If something happens to the princess, I’d be the easiest to blame.”

Physician Li thought about it and agreed, but his frown deepened.

“Master, what’s wrong with her?”

“She did manage to correct the fetal position, but her body is extremely weak. The palace physicians only keep prescribing tonics, and ignore my advice. At this rate, she’ll die in childbirth—with the child.”

The palace physician was a low-ranked white-sleeved doctor. Incompetence was likely. Just as Qun Qing’s suspicions rose, Physician Li said, “I saw him talking with an attendant from Luan Yi Pavilion before the consultation.”

That pavilion belonged to Bao Shu. It was highly probable he’d been bought off. Luckily, Physician Li said, “I dumped the original medicine and replaced it with my own. Should we tell the princess and have him removed?”

Qun Qing’s eyes turned cold. After thinking briefly, she said, “Don’t alert him yet. Just block him and keep switching the medicine.”

Li sighed again and looked at her. “The princess’s pulse is very strange. It seems she previously took too many bl00d-invigorating and stasis-clearing drugs. Her body is damaged, and the toxins have reached her bl00d. This pregnancy is extremely dangerous.”

Qun Qing wasn’t surprised.

She recalled how Xiao Yunru had constantly felt ill and taken pills. Those pills really had hurt her. But with the situation this far, it was no longer useful to pursue who was responsible.

The emperor had sent rare medicinal herbs to Prince Yan’s residence one after another—evidence that even in illness, he still cared for this unborn grandchild. Yet beneath that calm surface, many eyes watched silently.

“Master, please focus on nurturing her health. I’ll prepare the rest.”