After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 109

Inside the Taiji Hall, Emperor Chenming had been closely following developments from Prince Yan’s residence. When the latest report arrived, the glimmer of hope in his eyes was extinguished, replaced by shadowy gloom.

Since falling ill, the Emperor had been attended by Consort Han. 

“It seems Prince Yan is ultimately not destined for the throne.” She said.

Emperor Chenming gave no response, but inwardly, he had no choice but to agree.

Everyone in the palace knew his distaste for Prince Yan stemmed from the birthmark on Li Huan’s face. Now, with the prince’s child born bearing the same mark, and the Emperor gravely ill, it was inevitable. The weaker a man grows, the more readily he sees omens in such things, as if the heavens themselves were declaring judgment.

Just then, a shrill knock shattered the stillness of the hall, as though death itself had come knocking. The maids inside began whispering anxiously. 

Eunuch Zheng Fu reported, “Your Majesty, Princess Yan is kneeling outside with her hair unbound, begging for an audience.”

Emperor Chenming was clearly displeased, but thinking the princess might be distraught, he tolerated it. 

“Tell her to go back.”

But the knocking and her pleas only grew more insistent.

Her loss of composure sent the entire Taiji Hall into a flurry of activity as lamps were hastily lit. The Emperor threw on his cloak and, aided by several maids, walked to the door. His gaze toward his once-composed daughter-in-law was filled with displeasure.

“Causing a disturbance at this hour is beneath decorum. I will overlook your offense this once. Withdraw at once.”

On any other day, that would’ve been a severe reprimand. But Xiao Yunru’s face was blank, her eyes hollow.

“Your servant has a matter to report.”

He glanced briefly upon the child in her arms. Unable to bear the sight, he said stiffly, 

“I already know about this.”

Seeing Qun Qing standing nearby, Consort Han snapped, “Princess Yan is acting disgracefully. Have you forgotten the palace rules? Why haven’t you escorted her back yet?”

But Qun Qing hesitated for a moment, then knelt behind Xiao Yunru. She could sense how important this was to Xiao Yunru. If she wasn’t allowed to speak, it would truly destroy her.

“You—”

“What I have to report is not about the current matter, but something from before.” Xiao Yunru glanced at the swaddled infant before continuing, “There is a reason the heir was born this way. Before marrying Prince Yan, I was already with a child. When ordinary medicine failed, I took a strong dose of Winter-Frost Abortive Pills to force a miscarriage. The medicine gravely damaged my body, and that is what affected the child. It has nothing to do with the rumors.”

A heavy silence settled over the hall. Qun Qing had suspected as much, yet she had not expected Xiao Yunru to speak of it so plainly before the Emperor.

Emperor Chenming’s face changed dramatically. Consort Han asked, “Whose child was it?”

Xiao Yunru answered with composure, “It was not Prince Yan’s child. Its father was a man from Beirong.”

Ignoring the Emperor’s changing expression, she continued in an even voice.

“At the time, the former Chu kingdom was still at war with Beirong. A unit of Beirong scouts had infiltrated Chang’an to coordinate with the approaching army, but the Li family repelled the invasion, leaving the scouts stranded. They hid themselves as Hu merchants, nursing their wounds in secret.”

“I attempted to conduct private trade to escape my stepmother’s control. Not seeing through their disguise, I invited wolves into the house. They took shelter at a villa owned by the Xiao family and planned to strike the Li household on the night the city was to fall. That night, my maid discovered them. They killed her, then they assaulted me. During the assault, a young man appeared and slew several of them. He wore a bronze demon mask and spoke little, accompanied only by a guard named Kuang Su. I realized he had infiltrated from outside the city because he used the northern official dialect. After cutting down a few of the scouts, he pursued the rest, leaving behind only his discarded garments.”

Qun Qing’s heart pounded heavily.

There was no doubt. The one who saved Xiao Yunru was Li Huan.

But if he had such skill to infiltrate during an invasion, why hadn’t he gone to see Yang Fu? If that was what he truly wanted?

Xiao Yunru went on, “I was always cautious and obedient, the model noblewoman, so no one could fault me. I never imagined such a thing would ruin my life. When I returned, my stepmother discovered I had been violated. She threatened to inform the clan. But seeing I held Li Huan’s clothes and unsure of his identity, she dared not act. Later that night, unable to bear the shame, I…”

“I planned to drown myself in the river.”

She paused before continuing, “But then I saw Kuang Su lying unconscious in the cold stream with a head wound. I searched the riverbank and found Sanlang unconscious on the shallows. His mask was gone, and under the firelight from the outer city, I saw his face—bloodstained hair, knocked out. It was him.”

The Emperor interjected, “There was fire in the outer city? When was this?”

“The gates had already been breached. There was shouting and chaos everywhere. Chang’an was falling. But for someone prepared to die, what difference did it make?” Xiao Yunru said calmly. “When Li Huan awoke, he wanted to leave at once. That was when I realized he was Prince Yan and that I had found a thread of hope. Even the mighty Xiao family must bow to the new emperor. I followed the rules, married in name only, bore the judgment of others. But I didn’t want it to end there. I still had many things I wanted to do.”

She asked him whether he could return for her. She was willing to offer the entire Xiao family as a pawn to aid Prince Yan with all her might.

Looking into her tear-filled eyes, Li Huan remained silent for a long time before finally apologizing and saying that he already had someone he liked.

“The guilty drown in regret; but I would never force myself upon another. When you turn away, I will cast myself into the water.”

Perhaps startled by her resolve. Li Huan turned back and pulled her from the water. He then agreed to her request and then left without another word.

In those agonizing days of waiting, every single day was torment. Two months later, I found myself with a child. Fearing this matter would be discovered and taint the royal bloodline, I administered harsh medicine upon myself. The physician once said that due to the damage caused by the Winter-Frost Abortive Pills, I would no longer be able to conceive. Yet unexpectedly, the heir was conceived. And had I attempted another abortion, I might not have survived it.”

Xiao Yunru looked down at the swaddled infant in her arms. 

“How lucky I once felt, hoping the child would be healthy. Yet deep down, I knew the risks. Now that the fruit has ripened and fallen, it feels as though Heaven punishes me for trusting in mercy. I am willing to accept punishment, so long as His Majesty discerns the truth.”

She said clearly, “When the city fell, His Highness Prince Yan was with me. Therefore, the one who rode through the two wards, trampling civilians beneath his horse, and the one who violated Princess Bao’an at Qingjing Temple—was not His Highness, but another. This is what I have come to report.”

Emperor Chenming stared fixedly at her. After a long pause, he said, “Not Prince Yan? Then who? Who would wear Sanlang’s mask, ride his horse, command his men, and seek his death?”

Xiao Yunru drew a black jade belt-hook from the child’s swaddle and knocked it against the ground. 

“This was what I found by the river that day. That man stood upon the bridge, watching as his men clashed with Prince Yan. The Crown Prince is of similar height and bearing as His Highness. Moreover, before slipping into the city to destroy the northern scouts, Prince Yan had already informed his elder brother.”

A breeze lifted Qun Qing’s hair as she stood nearby. She had never imagined that Xiao Yunru’s testimony would bring forth the truth of the Qingjing Temple.

The black jade belt-hook glimmered faintly in Xiao Yunru’s hand. It was something only seventh-rank or higher officials could wear. For Li Huan, it was slightly too prestigious. Typically, only the legitimate sons of regional military governors would possess such an item.

The incident in the two wards resulted in severe casualties and nearly cost Emperor Chenming his throne. It had almost driven Prince Yan out of Chang’an. Such a calculated plot—how could one not suspect that the true instigator was not Prince Yan, but the Crown Prince himself?

He knew that child well. Li Xuan had inherited the late Empress’s temperament—noble, restrained, excessively eager for approval, often hesitant in judgment.

And yet, how could that same Crown Prince orchestrate a slaughter within the palace, then calmly accompany him the next day to console Princess Bao’an, as though nothing had occurred?

Impossible. Madness. Surely this was slander. From the moment Xiao Yunru burst into the palace that night, every word must have been a calculated lie.

Emperor Chenming detested succession disputes. His gaze chilled as he turned on Xiao Yunru. Uncertain how to silence her, he pointed at Qun Qing.

“A court lady who cannot restrain her mistress and allows Princess Yan to utter such nonsense—drag her out.”

He sought to frighten Xiao Yunru by punishing her attendant.

But Xiao Yunru replied, “Every word I have spoken is true. If Your Majesty requires someone to bear punishment, let it be me. Do not harm the innocent.”

Just then, the distant sound of bells and palace lanterns drew near.

Zhu Su entered and knelt before the Emperor.

“Your servant bears evidence—proof that the princess speaks the truth. The man that night was indeed the Crown Prince.”

“Very well,” Emperor Chenming said coldly. “The Crown prince has made thorough preparations. On the day of the ward incident, he was supposed to die and now he lives. I want to know: the Crown Prince, weak in body and ignorant of riding or archery—how could he pose as Prince Yan and charge into the palace?”

Qun Qing’s fingertips touched the cold ground. She too wanted to know what truly happened that night.

“Your Majesty need only read the memorial from Qun Cang,” Zhu Su said. “That censor of the former Chu once reported that the Lu family colluded with the enemy, exchanging military provisions for Northern hemp seeds smuggled back during grain transport. The allegation was later confirmed. Because Grand Chancellor Meng is a descendant of the Lu clan, his possession of such seeds is easily explained. The Chief Minister inferred that Meng administered them to the Crown Prince that night.”

“Northern soldiers have long consumed hemp-seed cakes before battle. Even someone frail and near death may temporarily regain strength, but when the effects wane, the body deteriorates further. Your Majesty, consider this carefully: has the Crown Prince’s health not worsened sharply since the founding of the state? Has he not been prescribed excessive medicines to cool an overheated constitution?”

Emperor Chenming said nothing. He had assumed Li Xuan’s decline was the result of overwork and internal heat. Physicians had been summoned in droves, medicinal decoctions delivered to the Eastern Palace like water—yet none proved effective. The matter had once caused him grave concern.

His hand, still clutching the memorial, began to tremble.

The Yu Fei Pill flooding Jiangnan had drained the wealth of merchants and caused him endless headaches. And if the Crown Prince was the source…

A sudden cough. Bl00d spattered across his night robe. Consort Han screamed, “Your Majesty!” Attendants surged forward to steady the Emperor, who was half-collapsing.

Amidst the commotion, the Emperor gasped, “Zheng Fu, summon the Crown Prince—immediately!”

As the group rushed into the hall, Zhu Su finally dared to call over the kneeling maidens behind him. Li Huan arrived first, lifting the child from the swaddle. He looked at Xiao Yunru and her bare feet and her thin clothes. He was shaken to the core.

“You… why would you reveal all of that? How will you remain in the palace after this?”

“You assumed I would not dare. Although we are husband and wife, you never truly understood me. Now you do—and I am content.”

Exhausted, Xiao Yunru smiled faintly. “This past year of mine was borrowed time. Now that I have repaid your kindness, I will no longer stand between you and Princess Bao’an.”

With that, she fainted. Li Huan caught her and steadied her.

“Escort the Princess back. I will go seek an audience with Father.”

Palace maids rushed to carry Xiao Yunru back to Prince Yan’s residence. Only then did Qun Qing manage to free herself. She turned and walked alone along the palace path, silently weighing every word she had just heard.

The towering halls loomed like slumbering beasts in the dark. Fragments of memory flickered through her mind—the first time she entered the palace beside Princess Bao’an in their youth; the chaos of the coup; Shi Yuming’s warning; the assassin at Qingjing Temple who drove a blade into her; Li Xuan’s slender figure reading reports deep into the night; the look on his face when he listened to Zheng Zhiyi; his youthful bearing on horseback in the hunting scroll.

She encountered the Crown Prince’s sedan. He had not yet been told why he had been summoned. As he lifted the curtain, his gaze met hers.

Never had he seen Qun Qing regard him in that manner—solemn and remote. Her eyes were dark and lucid, like sharpened steel, with the glimmer of unshed tears.

He ordered Shouxi to bring her a cloak, but she did not pause. By the time the attendant alighted, she was already far down the path.

Qun Qing believed she was walking toward Prince Yan’s residence, yet as she looked around, nothing was familiar. She had lost her way.

Suddenly exhausted, she slipped into the shadow of a crumbling wall, drew her knees to her chest, and sat down.

In the distance, a horse’s bell chimed without pause, circling nearer, retreating, then drawing close again. A rider dismounted, lantern in hand, and crouched beside her.

“Wife, are you weary?”

He had found her, held her fast, allowed her no space to breathe. That was what he excelled at.

Qun Qing resisted opening her eyes, but at last she did. Lu Huating’s dark eyes gleamed in the lantern light. His garments were immaculate, his features too bright, almost dazzling.

Her complexion was nearly translucent. He drew out a pouch of osmanthus candy.

She did not take it. Instead, her gaze rested on the crescent-shaped scar along his wrist.

“What were you thinking then?”

He followed her gaze and answered evenly, “Nothing at all.”

She fell silent. Seeking comfort from this man had always been folly. Even in his bleakest moments, he would confide in no one.

His eyes drifted to the embroidered begonia on her collar. “When you were stabbed at Qingjing Temple, what crossed your mind?”

She looked up, shame and phantom pain rushing through her. But she remembered. He had collected the corpses. Of course he knew where she was wounded.

She said, “I thought—even as a ghost—I wouldn’t let him go.”

He looked into her eyes and smiled faintly. 

“I thought, since the evidence pointed to the Crown Prince, you would be upset.”

She said nothing.

His smile faded slightly just in time for Qun Qing to spring up, untying the reins fastened to a tree. The horse snorted anxiously, its silver bells jangling.

“Does the Advisor ride such a wild horse?” she remarked.

He said nothing as she suddenly swung herself onto the saddle.

“I would like to ride it. Is that allowed?” Her black eyes did not waver.

He remembered her during the autumn examinations, how frail she had been. She clearly had not recovered. Her stiffness unsettled the horse, and it reared to throw her.

He seized the reins with one hand. Under his control, the horse quieted and stepped forward in slow, measured strides.

Qun Qing’s heart pounded. Wind stirred through the courtyard. The hooves pressed over fallen leaves with a soft rhythm.

Lu Huating held the lantern in one hand and the reins in the other. Suddenly, he turned to ask, “Wife, would you like to go faster?”

Before she could reply, he gave her the lantern and lengthened his stride.

The white horse quickened.

Qun Qing felt lightheaded and tightened her grip. She forced herself to remember the masked rider who had trampled the gate of Qingjing Temple.

He had not been a born god of war, nor invincible. Beneath the bronze mask had been Li Xuan, a man who had erred.

She could avenge her brother. She could lay her grief to rest.

The full moon climbed into view. At some point, her heavy thoughts scattered with the wind.

She held the lantern aloft. Lu Huating broke into a run, pulling the horse with him. Their speed increased. The lights atop the watchtower drew closer.

And for a moment, she felt again what it had been like—when she was young, galloping across palace corridors, chasing the wind.

Lu Huating glanced sideways. Her hair and shawl lifted high in the wind.

She smiled.

Like shattering glass.

Like light, scattering everywhere.

T/L Notes:

Hello everyone,

I sincerely apologize for the long pause in updates. These past few months have been very busy for me, and although I translate as a hobby because I enjoy reading, balancing it with the pressures of graduate school has been challenging. This novel is quite complex, and working on it at times added to my stress, which made it difficult to continue when I lacked the energy and focus.

Still, since I’ve already committed to this translation—and even purchased the full novel beforehand—I intend to complete it. For now, I cannot promise a consistent release schedule, but I hope to resume regular updates by the end of February next year.

During the Christmas break, I’ll be posting new chapters when I can. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding.

Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season!