After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 97

Lying on the bed, Qun Qing’s arm throbbed faintly, making it hard for her to fall asleep.

She heard a soft rustle—the curtain lifted, revealing Lu Huating’s face.

“Can’t sleep?”

“What’s that?” she asked, watching him pull a military-style leather pouch from his robe.

Lu Huating took out a resin-like medicine and held it to her lips. 

“Raw painkiller. Tuck it under your tongue—it’ll help with the pain and stop the bleeding.”

Outside Prince Yan’s residence, only the army had access to such high-grade medicine.

Qun Qing placed the herb under her tongue. Lu Huating adjusted his robe and lay back down on his spot, farther away.

Qun Qing closed her eyes. This time, she fell asleep almost as if blacking out.

When she opened them again, birdsong came with sunlight streaming across her face, making her momentarily dazed.

She put on her outer robe and got up. In the dim light, she could see Lu Huating still lying on the floor, so she moved quietly. But when she lifted the curtain, he was already up, back turned to her, tightening his leather belt.

As if he knew she was dressing, he didn’t look her way — just stepped out and waited under the eaves.

He picked up a sky-blue oil-paper umbrella. Hearing her footsteps, he opened it wide like a full moon blooming against the daylight. With a subtle spin of the handle, he said,

“Let’s go.”

They had walked side by side before—but this was their first time sharing an umbrella.

The scent of citrus lingered faintly around him. She glanced at his profile. Lu Huating looked ahead, then suddenly tilted the umbrella a little more toward her.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, lightly pinching the handle to adjust it.

Lu Huating replied, “Your arm’s injured. Better not let your clothes get soaked—it’ll draw attention.”

Qun Qing withdrew her hand.

In the light spring drizzle, she noticed the willows by the pond had already begun to sprout new buds.

Outside the Zichen Hall, Qun Qing overheard two young eunuchs chatting.

Continuous rain had caused flooding. The origin of the Yufei Pill scandal in Jiangnan remained unclear. One thing after another—no wonder His Majesty was overwhelmed. As for granting marriage and receiving thanks? That had become mere formality, tucked into a corner of court affairs.

They had already been waiting outside the hall for quite some time.

Qun Qing calculated quietly. She knew the Crown Prince always spent an hour here with Shimo after court.

When she saw Li Xuan, she would tell him: the memorial had been retrieved—and burned.

But when the hall doors opened, the one who came out first wasn’t Li Xuan—it was Li Huan. Qun Qing lowered her head. She could feel Lu Huating glance at her.

Li Huan walked straight over to Lu Huating, sparing a vague look at Qun Qing as he said meaningfully,

“I was going to impeach Governor Zhang in court today. But with the memorial gone, what’s left to impeach?”

“You’ve spoken to His Majesty about going to Yunzhou?” Lu Huating asked.

“I thought it over last night. What the princess and you said made sense. I’ve requested permission from Father—I’ll go myself.”

“What did the Crown Prince say?” Lu Huating asked.

“My brother wanted to go himself, but I beat him to it. He argued his case, but Father refused,” Li Huan said in a low voice.

Qun Qing thought: with the floods worsening, Emperor Chenming must be worried about Li Xuan’s health. But he didn’t realize—this only made the Crown Prince feel even more insecure.

Not long after Li Huan left, Li Xuan was escorted out by Zheng Fu. The eunuch wrapped the prince’s cloak tighter around him and murmured,

“Your Highness, your health is already delicate. His Majesty is only thinking of you. Sending you to the snow disaster zone was just a moment of anger. Now that Lord Meng has paid up, there’s no need for you to make the trip yourself. Why insist on going against His Majesty over this?”

Li Xuan’s fingers clenched inside his sleeves.

Then, catching sight of Lu Huating and Qun Qing standing side by side, his face—framed by fox-fur—looked even paler.

“You two are newlyweds. I didn’t attend your ceremony. I don’t know if the congratulatory gifts we prepared were adequate.”

Qun Qing bowed.

“Thank you for your generosity, Your Highness. I had a return gift prepared back at the residence—but I accidentally dropped it into a brazier, and it burned.”

Li Xuan immediately understood. The memorial she took—she had destroyed it. No wonder Prince Yan hadn’t mentioned it at court. He nodded.

“It’s fine.”

Lu Huating, of course, picked up on the exchange. He was surprised she would pass on a message right in front of him. His gaze deepened.

“Your Highness may not know—my wife stayed up preparing the gift, and nearly got shot by hidden guards mistaking her for an assassin. She bled through the night before the wound was managed.”

Li Xuan looked at him.

“She used to serve the Crown Princess. You and Sanlang ought to look after her more.”

“She is my wife. I will look after her,” Lu Huating replied, his gaze steady. “But the rules of Prince Yan’s residence aren’t just for show. If there’s a next time, I fear it won’t just be an injured arm.”

Li Xuan’s fingers curled tighter. He stared at him for a long moment, then swept his sleeve.

“Father is busy. You’re excused from the formalities. Go back.”

After Li Xuan left, Lu Huating didn’t look at her.

“The Crown Prince can barely keep himself afloat. Is it really worth it, doing all this for him?”

Qun Qing’s elegant face remained unreadable.

It was a transaction. If she cared that much, she’d be dead by now.

“If I’m a pawn, then I’d better be one with awareness. Survival—I’ll earn that myself. Counting on others for loyalty or righteousness? That’s the road to death. I already died once, didn’t I?” she said, turning to descend the jade steps, lifting her skirt. Her figure was slender and straight.

“I’m going back to work.”

Jian Su rested his hand on the axe he had just lowered.

“What’s on your mind, Advisor?”

Lu Huating looked at Qun Qing’s retreating figure.

“If I hadn’t married her, she probably wouldn’t have lived much longer.”

If she were to die, better by his hand than anyone else’s.

That thought, oddly enough, brought him a strange sense of calm.

When Li Xuan returned to the palace, Meng Guangshen was already waiting.

Meng Guangshen said, “Your Highness doesn’t need to cling to the idea of personally going to Yunzhou. Liu Jianjun is my personal envoy. I’ve instructed him to prepare for every possible scenario. Even if Prince Yan goes, he won’t find any solid evidence.”

Li Xuan replied, “So the affair with Censor Liu’s ink scroll… You knew about it long ago?”

Meng Guangshen withdrew the sharpness from his gaze and said evenly, “Governing a nation is no simple matter. The role of a Grand Chancellor is not merely to record but to regulate. His presence is a form of restraint. Everyone in the palace knows how much unaccounted wealth and hidden dealings reside in the private treasury, and yet the state remains stable. Without checks and balances, how would those with merit—such as Yunzhou—be honored, and how would those with faults still retain their positions at court?”

Li Xuan replied, “Everything in the world always seems to make sense when spoken by the Grand Chancellor.”

Meng Guangshen offered a faint smile. “Your Highness is a good Crown Prince, but not yet well-versed in the art of wielding power. As Grand Chancellor, I am only fulfilling my duty. Now that the Prince of Yan is rising and Lu Huating harbors grand ambitions, they first stripped Prince Zhao of military authority, then gradually moved him into house arrest. Your Highness has already lost both your left and right arms. Other than relying on the Meng family, tell me—how else will you stand your ground?”

Li Xuan replied, “If not for Qun Qing, the Grand Chancellor would already have been impeached by Sanlang today.”

“She is indeed loyal,” Meng said. “She did play a role in the matter of Prince Zhao. But now that piece is in Lu Huating’s hands. It’s time to consider another path.”

“What other path?”

Meng Guangshen said nothing, but both understood clearly what remained unsaid.

A memorial slipped from between Li Xuan’s fingers and landed on the table. A faint trace of mockery crossed his face.

When this struggle for power began, he hadn’t expected it to escalate so quickly—to the point where blades would be drawn.

To have the will, yet lack the strength—such a feeling was hard to swallow.

He was the Crown Prince. The people of Yunzhou were his to protect. And yet here he was, confined within the Eastern Palace like a beast in a cage, watching Sanlang grow stronger by the day. Who could say—perhaps one day, even his own head would fall beneath Sanlang’s galloping horse.

Meng Guangshen called for Bao Shu.

“If Your Highness requires a female attendant, Bao Shu can take her place. Her loyalty has always been unwavering.”

Li Xuan stopped Bao Shu before she could bow.

“Is your injury healing well?”

Bao Shu lowered her head.

“Much better. I only acted out of fear and lost my composure. As long as Your Highness is safe, I have no regrets.”

That day, when the medicine ignited and the puppet stage exploded, Bao Shu had suddenly thrown herself forward to shield Li Xuan, and her arm was scorched by flying embers. Since then, a faint shadow of doubt had taken root in Li Xuan’s heart—one that now quietly surfaced.

Bao Shu looked up at him, her eyes brimming with what appeared to be genuine affection.

Li Xuan met her gaze. In that moment, she seemed pitiful.

But then again—so was he.

He instructed Shouxi to summon the royal physician to examine her wound.

“Lady Bao Shu… grant her the title of Liangdi¹.”

Qun Qing returned to Shangyi Bureau and immediately sensed something was off.

Everyone stared at her in shock and whispered among themselves. As she approached, they all scattered in haste.

She was already familiar with the duties of the Palace Registry—compiling and revising regulations, nothing more. She reached out to retrieve a record book, but the newly appointed ceremonial officer snatched it first.

Qun Qing seized her wrist.

“This is my task. Why are you overstepping?”

Clearly not expecting Qun Qing to grab her, the young official looked back and met a pair of dark, piercing eyes. She faltered.

“You didn’t hear?” she whispered. “You’ve offended Liangdi Meng. You might not get another chance to serve.”

“Liangdi Meng?” Qun Qing wondered if she’d misheard.

“It’s Bao Shu—Lord Meng’s daughter. The Crown Prince just named her Liangdi, and she’s moved into Luan Yi Pavilion.”

Upon hearing this, Qun Qing turned and went straight to see Chief Attendant Zhu.

Inside the hall, Chief Attendant Zhu knelt respectfully. The noble lady seated above her wore flowing skirts and a ceremonial crane-shaped headpiece—Bao Shu, now formally dressed as a Liangdi.

But the teardrop mole beneath her eye had dulled in color.

“The late Empress’ memorial banquet was certainly Prince Zhao’s fault,” Bao Shu said coolly, “but Shangyi Bureau must also bear responsibility. That junior recordkeeper keeps a little shaman by her side and carries a ritual whisk—she’s touched by unclean omens. If future banquets are handled by her, I fear they will end in misfortune.”

Believing in Buddhism and Taoism is a custom left over from the previous dynasty. Chief Attendant Zhu had no defense:

“Madam Qing was at least personally recommended by the Crown Prince…”

Bao Shu toyed with her fan and replied lightly,

“I’m the Crown Prince’s Liangdi now. How do you know my will isn’t the Crown Prince’s will?”

Qun Qing did not step into the hall.

She listened for a while, then turned and walked away.

“What’s going on? She just left?”

“Didn’t think she’d walk away without accepting punishment…”

The palace women stood in stunned silence, watching Qun Qing’s retreating figure.

“She left?” Bao Shu’s breath grew heavy. She clutched her fan, fury boiling in her chest like it could burn through her insides.

How could this low-born woman keep pushing her down?

She had caused the death of one of Bao Shu’s elder brothers and married the other.

Lu HuaTing wouldn’t even look Bao Shu in the eye, yet he married that lowly girl?

And she herself—couldn’t even control her own fate.

Next to her, Chief Attendant Zhu stood beside a large bronze cauldron prepared earlier. A layer of wax sealed in scalding water beneath, steeped with Sichuan peppercorns.

If Qun Qing had insisted on keeping her post, she would have been required to dip her hands into the “ritual cleansing” water in front of everyone.

Yet to everyone’s shock—Qun Qing had simply walked away.

“She dares walk out? Clearly that girl knows she’s tainted by bad luck and has no face to stay.”

Bao Shu sneered, “No need to assign her any more duties.”

Chief Attendant Zhu let out a quiet sigh. She had thought Qun Qing might at least try to argue.

Now it seemed Qun Qing could no longer remain in Shangyi Bureau.

The tassels on Bao Shu’s headdress swayed.

She was no longer just a palace maid—she was a noble consort.

If she couldn’t even eliminate Qun Qing for her father, she didn’t deserve to be called a daughter of the Meng family.

Qun Qing stepped out beneath a sky painted crimson with post-rain clouds.

Under that fiery hue, she saw Lu Huating standing by the roadside with Jian Su.

“You’re here?”

Lu Huating looked at her face.

“I came to check whether your fellow palace officials have been affected because of me.”

Qun Qing lowered her eyes and walked beside him.

“The Crown Prince promoted Bao Shu to Liangdi.”

“I know,” Lu Huating said. “It’s a political alliance—he’s securing ties with the Meng family. As for my wife— this road is blocked. Take another.”

Qun Qing’s lashes fluttered slightly, but she wasn’t thinking of Bao Shu at all.

She had remained in the inner palace only to become a Crimson-Robed Envoy as quickly as possible. If she got entangled with Bao Shu, it would take too long. She couldn’t afford the delay.

“I passed the exam for Shangfu Bureau previously. Princess Yan said she kept the appointment decree for me.”

Lu Huating nodded. “Let’s go.”

Seeing her glance back, he looked at her with dark eyes.

“If we’re to honor the alliance—let’s go to Princess Yan and retrieve the edict.”

Moments later, they stood before Xiao Yunru.

Qun Qing saw her holding her waist with one hand while raising the imperial seal with the other.

Just as she was about to stamp the document, Lu Huating interjected,

“Madam Qing is already a sixth rank officer in Shangyi Bureau.”

Princess Yan’s hand paused.

“In that case, she will be appointed sixth rank Supervisor—a lateral transfer to Shangfu Bureau.”

Qun Qing bowed and expressed her thanks.

“No need,” Xiao Yunru said solemnly, one hand still on her stomach.

“If you have the ability, I’ll honor my word and transfer you to Shangfu Bureau. But there is another reason as well.”

“Please, Your Highness.”

Xiao Yunru looked out through the carved window, where rain fell in fine threads.

“Since we welcomed the Buddha’s relics, Dachen has begun trade with the Eighteen Western Nations. His Majesty is eager to advance this commerce. Do you know why?”

Qun Qing thought briefly.

“To prevent the Eighteen Nations from forming an alliance with Southern Chu to attack Dachen.

He would rather stabilize the trade and make friends with them.”

Xiao Yunru nodded. “The envoys from Liuli and Gaochang will soon arrive at the Honglu Temple. Shangfu Bureau is preparing sample garments. Dachen is rich in porcelain and silk, especially embroidered colored silk. Since you are an expert, please take charge of this matter on behalf of the palace. There must be no mistakes.”

Qun Qing said, “I will go and take a look tomorrow.”

“I have one thing I want to tell you two.” Xiao Yunru hesitated for a moment and looked at Lu Huating, “His Highness has always had doubts about your marriage. Yunming, if you really like Lady Qing, don’t leave any handles to make people suspicious.”

Both of them were momentarily stunned.

But Qing Niang quickly caught on to what Princess Yan was implying. She wasn’t completely ignorant when it came to such matters. After all, once a woman was married, there were certain expectations—her mother had told her, and the older women who helped with her wedding preparations had told her as well.

Not to mention that there was no bl00d on the wedding bedding, and Lu Huating slept on the floor. Just one report from a palace maid would be enough to arouse Li Huan’s suspicion.

Li Huan was not a good person, but he valued old friendships. If he ever learned that she wasn’t someone Lu Huating really liked, he might kill her without hesitation—just like in her previous life.

Still, it wouldn’t be difficult to act more intimate in front of Prince Yan.

Dinner was served. The table was a dazzling spread of meat and vegetable dishes, each exquisitely prepared and tempting in both color and aroma.

She hadn’t expected Prince Yan’s residence to dine so lavishly—perhaps it wasn’t entirely without merit after all.

Qun Qing picked up a piece of fried shrimp. It was excellent—crispy and fragrant even at the head—and before she knew it, she had eaten half a bowl of rice.

Just then, the door creaked open. A stranger stepped inside—an austere-looking matron, clearly an instructor. She stood silently by the doorway, watching them without a hint of expression.

“Do you eat lotus seeds?” Lu Huating suddenly asked. He peeled two and dropped them into her bowl. Qun Qing’s hand paused. In that moment, she realized this instructor must be one of Li Huan’s informants.

After just a few more bites, Lu Huating had already added two more helpings to her bowl.

Qun Qing picked up another shrimp, hesitated, then dropped it into Lu Huating’s bowl instead.

At this, Jian Su let out a pointed little cough.

Lu Huating glanced at the shrimp in his bowl but said nothing.

He couldn’t eat shrimp. If Qun Qing hadn’t known, fine—but if she had, he might have thought she did it on purpose. He shot her a look.

Their eyes locked—those dark eyes of his unwavering. When she saw he wasn’t touching the shrimp, something clicked.

“Let me peel it for you,” she said quickly.

She pulled out a clean handkerchief, dipped it in wine to wipe her fingers, then carefully peeled the shell and held the shrimp to his lips.

Jian Su drew in a sharp breath and turned to face the window.

Lu Huating leaned down and took it from her hand—slowly.

Qun Qing wiped her hands again. Under the instructor’s sharp gaze, her appetite waned.

She didn’t want to appear too fond of the shrimp, so after taking another, she quickly added one more to Lu Huating’s bowl.

As she reached for her napkin again, Lu Huating quietly set down his chopsticks and, under the table, brushed the back of his hand against her waist.

Her waist was extremely sensitive. She flinched and instinctively gripped his hand—hard—so hard it nearly crushed his bones.

He hadn’t expected such a fierce reaction and, pained as he was, didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers tightened and twisted.

Someone was watching. Qun Qing didn’t know what he was trying to do.

She caught a glimpse of red rashes on the back of his hand but had no time to think.

The two silently wrestled beneath the table until—

Crack.

Her wooden stool slipped. She nearly fell but ended up toppling against his neck instead.

She quickly reached out to steady herself and dragged the stool back into place.

In that split second, she felt his body go rigid.

Now they were practically leaning against each other. The instructor finally looked away, her face betraying some vague discomfort.

They remained still for two heartbeats.

Then Lu Huating turned slightly—and without warning, stood up.

Qun Qing felt a sudden tightness around her waist, and in the next moment, she was off the ground, sunlight flashing past her eyes.

He had lifted her clean off the floor, brushed aside the curtain with one hand, and tossed her onto the bed.

Qun Qing rolled lightly to absorb the landing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the instructor hurrying out the door.

She let out a quiet breath, her body now lightly sweating.

“How does it feel,” Lu Huating asked, still catching his breath as he casually lifted the curtain again, “to be held by your political enemy?”

He watched her with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Qun Qing yanked the curtain down in his face.

Sunlight filtered through the fine silk, casting a hazy glow over the profile of a man—dark hair, pale face—beautiful in a strangely dreamlike way.

She lay in the sunlight, motionless for a long while.

Lu Huating lowered his gaze, his expression briefly unreadable.

The sensation of holding her still lingered in his sleeves.

She was so light.

Four years ago, the image of that lifeless body on the ground came rushing back to him. His chest tightened.

But just then, the hairpin in Qun Qing’s hair caught the light, and he saw that she was still very much alive.

“Do you not usually get enough to eat?” he asked.

All that fuss over two shrimp.

Qun Qing replied calmly, “My monthly stipend is meager. It doesn’t compare to Prince Yan’s kitchens.”

“What else do you like?” Lu Huating said quietly. “Here, you can eat your fill.”

T/L notes:
Hello, dear readers! I’m back! I know it’s been a little over two weeks since I last updated my translated novels. I’ve been swamped with semester-end requirements, but now I’m done! As a small thank you for your patience, I’m releasing this chapter for free today. 🎉
I’ll be posting another free chapter this week too, and after that, I’ll be back to posting advance chapters while I enjoy my academic break. I’m hoping to use this time to get a bit of a “diligence boost” and stock up on chapters, so I’m ready when summer classes start next week. I never know when things will get busy again, but I’ll do my best to keep the updates coming!
For now, enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for your continued support! 💖