Forced to Love (GL) - Chapter 29

“Please wait, Your Highness.”

Lingxi turned around and entered the inner room. The breeze she brought with her extinguished the candle, leaving the light from the window as the only illumination in the room.

The flickering light cast shadows across half the room. Standing behind the screen, Lingxi lowered her head and fastened her robe.

Footsteps hesitated outside the door but were soon replaced by the sound of it creaking open.

As the wooden door was pushed ajar, a sliver of light entered along with a tall, slender figure.

Lingxi’s heart tightened instantly. Her hands, which were fastening her sash, stiffened slightly.

However, the figure stopped at the doorway and did not move forward.

Lingxi let out a small breath of relief. Feeling the intricate embroidery on her sash against her palm, she quickly adjusted her outer robe and stepped out from behind the screen.

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

With just one glance, Lingxi lowered her head, bent at the waist, and placed her hands together in front of her forehead.

The shadow before her extended downward, covering her completely.

Zhao Qingsui turned around, her gaze sweeping over Lingxi’s neatly arranged collar. Her eyes then trailed down Lingxi’s arm to the white cloth wrapped around her hand, where the yellow medicinal paste beneath was clearly visible.

“Hmm.”

Zhao Qingsui responded lightly and stepped into the room.

The cloak on her shoulders billowed slightly as she walked, the hem brushing faintly against Lingxi’s raised hands, causing a slight tickle.

“Has Imperial Physician Wang left?”

“Your Highness, Imperial Physician Wang is in the back courtyard, personally overseeing the preparation of the medicine.”

“Hmm.”

Zhao Qingsui lightly tugged at the ties of her cloak. The garment slipped from her shoulders but still rested on the edge.

Lingxi’s fingers twitched slightly, as if she intended to take the cloak for her.

But before she could act, Su Rui stepped forward and took the cloak with both hands.

When Zhao Qingsui turned back, she caught a glimpse of Lingxi subtly tilting her head to watch Su Rui’s retreating figure.

“Does your hand still hurt, Consort?”

Her voice was calm, but the end carried a hint of something unreadable.

“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. After applying the medicine, the pain has lessened.”

“Hmm. I have prepared a clean outer robe for you. You may change in the inner room.”

Before Zhao Qingsui finished speaking, a maid had already entered with a neatly folded robe, head lowered in deference.

“Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness, but I have already dried my robe by the candlelight, and it is mostly dry now.”

Zhao Qingsui fell silent for a moment before asking, “So, when you extinguished the candle, you were dressing?”

“Yes.”

“And you asked me to wait because of this?”

The sudden shift in topic gave Lingxi a strange feeling, but she still answered truthfully, “Yes.”

Hearing her direct answers, Zhao Qingsui unexpectedly felt a twinge of irritation.

By reason and propriety, Lingxi had done nothing wrong, yet the detachment in her demeanor made Zhao Qingsui frown.

She had once found this distance between them satisfactory, but now, for some reason, she found it displeasing.

Exhaling softly, Zhao Qingsui waved the maids away.

Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Lingxi quickly explained, “Please forgive me, Your Highness. It would have been improper to meet you while not fully dressed.”

The tension in Zhao Qingsui’s chest eased slightly with Lingxi’s formal and reasoned explanation. However, instead of placating her, it made her more inclined to challenge Lingxi.

“Then, is your crooked sash also considered improper?”

Lingxi glanced down and realized her sash had unknowingly shifted, sitting higher in the front and lower in the back.

“Your collar is neat, yet you paid no attention to your sash?”

Though her voice remained calm, a trace of displeasure was evident. Even if Lingxi was slow to notice, she could still sense Zhao Qingsui’s change in mood.

“I have erred.”

Lingxi bent her knee to kneel, but before she could, a firm hand grasped hers, preventing her.

“No need. Please, take a seat, Lord Lu.”

The words reached Lingxi’s ears, and only then did she realize the subtle shift in how Zhao Qingsui addressed her.

Before entering the royal residence, Zhao Qingsui would address her as “Lord Lu” in private. In formal settings with others present, she would call her “Consort.”

But earlier, even when they were alone, Zhao Qingsui had addressed her as “Consort.”

“Consort” and “Lord Lu”—two forms of address that carried vastly different implications.

Lingxi felt as if she was on the verge of grasping something, but before she could think further, Zhao Qingsui had already turned and taken her seat.

Her sleeves drew a gentle arc in the air before settling down.

“Your Highness.”

Lingxi called out softly without even realizing it.

Zhao Qingsui looked up at her with an indifferent gaze.

“Su Rui, serve the tea.”

“Yes.”

Maidservants soon entered, carrying tea and fruit trays.

Lingxi sat quietly at the side, her hands resting on her lap. However, unlike usual, where her fingers would be neatly aligned, this time they were slightly apart, and her knuckles were subtly bent.

As the maids finished placing the trays and retreated, Su Rui asked, “Your Highness, your fresh clothing is ready. Would you like to change now?”

“Hmm.”

“Yes.”

A new group of maids entered, carrying lacquered trays filled with light-colored garments.

Lingxi took one look and immediately felt uneasy in her seat.

“Lord Lu, since you speak of propriety, then how should propriety apply while I change?”

Zhao Qingsui’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of coldness in it.

“I shall take my leave. Please change at your leisure, Your Highness.”

Lingxi quickly stood, bowed deeply, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Zhao Qingsui watched her swift departure, complete with the thoughtful act of shutting the door, and felt yet another wave of frustration.

Standing in the courtyard, Lingxi watched the setting sun. The golden light spread like ink dropped into water, covering everything in a warm glow.

Looking at the white magnolia blossoms on the branches, she furrowed her brows.

In her heart, it felt as if a mirror had been placed before her, reflecting both herself and the divine figure she sought to protect.

She had always viewed herself with a strict sense of duty, but now, she found herself seeing more.

This was an unexpected change—perhaps the most profound shift of all.

She had tried to resist, to keep things as they were, but change, like rain falling across the land, soaked in slowly and inevitably.

But change was like endless rain falling from the sky. It soaked everything, and after a long time, became a great flood—unstoppable.

Ling Xi waved her hand to block the mirror showing herself. Then she looked at the mirror reflecting the divine figure.

White light shone clearly. In white robes, the divine figure’s face appeared clearly. Ling Xi stared for a few seconds, then looked away.

To find the soul and save the divine figure—this was her mission. But now it also felt like her fate.

“Official Lu, why are you standing in the courtyard?”

Ling Xi was deep in thought and didn’t notice Li Cai approaching from behind.

“Her Highness is changing. I’m waiting outside. Do you have progress on a case to report to Her Highness, Lord Li?”

Li Cai wore his official robe with a purple sash and gold fish pouch. His steps were hurried, but he stopped beside her when he heard her question.

“Yes. I heard you were injured protecting Her Highness?”

“It’s nothing. Imperial Doctor Wang treated me. By the way, Lord Li, do you know how the young prince is doing?”

Ling Xi shook her hand wrapped in white cloth to signal to Li Cai.

“Yes, the young prince is fine now. The imperial physician said that Lord Lu’s quick action helped a lot. The situation could have been much worse.”

“That’s good. It’s mainly because the young prince didn’t drink the wine.” Ling Xi paused and asked, “Lord Li, was the assassin in this case caught?”

Li Cai frowned at her question and sighed. “She was caught, sort of.”

Ling Xi was about to ask, “What do you mean by ‘sort of’,” but Li Cai’s next words stopped her.

“But she took poison and killed herself out of guilt.”

“Nothing was found from questioning?”

Li Cai shook his head. “She killed herself before we could even start. She must have come knowing she would die.”

“Then who did it?”

“It was the dancer performing at the banquet. She hid green vitriol oil in the hollow handle of her fan. There was a mechanism. When she pressed the fan’s ribs, the poison tilted and spilled out.”

Ling Xi tapped her forehead. “I was careless. I didn’t notice that part.”

At that moment, the soft touch of Zhao Qingsui’s fingers at her chin came to Ling Xi’s mind again. She had been distracted and lost focus.

“It’s not your fault, Lord Lu. I asked the other dancers. That dance was prepared specially for the young prince’s birthday. In one part, they spread out to the guests’ tables, using their fans to block people’s view, then came back together to form a large fan shape with the music. It was meant to be visually impressive, but someone used it to harm others.”

The two of them fell silent, both thinking.

“But now that I think of it, Lord Li,” Ling Xi said, “since the unification of Great Tai, green vitriol oil has been controlled because of its dangerous nature. Only the government knows how to make it. Even if we can’t say the killer is working with the ones hiding weapons, at least it proves there’s someone in the court involved, right?”

“Exactly!” Li Cai clenched his fist and hit his palm. “Lord Lu, you and I think alike!”

“Yes, and another point—although the formula is restricted, green vitriol oil is usually used to remove rust from weapons.” Ling Xi paused. “That links it to our earlier case of hidden weapons.”

Ling Xi narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think this is just a coincidence.”

Before Li Cai could reply, the wooden door behind them opened.

“Her Highness wants to know who is speaking in the courtyard.”

“Replying to Her Highness, I, Li Cai, Head of the Court of Justice, came to report the case.”

After Su Rui explained, she came back and said, “Consort, Lord Li, Her Highness invites you in.”

When Ling Xi returned to the room, Zhao Qingsui had already changed into a pale formal robe. Though light-colored, Ling Xi noticed the faint blue pattern on the sleeves, like flower buds slowly blooming.

“Lord Li, how’s the case?”

Zhao Qingsui sat at the head seat, holding a tea cup. After glancing at them, she gently lifted the lid to stir the tea.

Li Cai gave a formal bow and repeated what he had told Ling Xi.

Zhao Qingsui let out a cold laugh. The tea cup in her hand made a soft clink as it hit the table. “Suicide? How convenient.”

“Please calm down, Your Highness.”

“Lord Li, have you found anything else?”

Li Cai shared his thoughts from the courtyard discussion with Ling Xi.

Zhao Qingsui glanced at Ling Xi, who stood silently beside her, and her expression softened. “If that’s the case, I order the Court of Justice to investigate both cases together. These matters are serious. Lord Li, you understand the weight of your duty.”

“Yes! I will not fail Your Highness and will do my best to catch the criminal.”

…

When Ling Xi left the palace with Zhao Qingsui, they went to visit Zhao Sheng. Zhao Sheng lay in bed. When he saw them, his eyes opened wide. He wanted to get up, but the physician had told him to rest.

Zhao Qingsui gently patted his hand and comforted him. Only then did he relax.

Ling Xi stood behind Zhao Qingsui. When she looked up, Zhao Sheng was looking at her too.

“Huh-huh-you! Fo ma!”

Zhao Sheng struggled to speak. His words were unclear, but Ling Xi still understood.

“You’re too polite, young prince. Please follow the doctor’s orders and rest well. I hope you recover soon.”

As Ling Xi said “follow the doctor’s orders,” she felt Zhao Qingsui’s gaze on her, and her voice lowered slightly at the end.

Zhao Sheng had just taken medicine and couldn’t speak much. He also needed rest. Zhao Qingsui comforted him again and promised to visit daily. After ordering extra protection for the palace, she left with Ling Xi.

By the time they returned, it was already midnight. On the way back, Zhao Qingsui sat in the carriage, looking through the guest list from the birthday banquet, handed to her by the commander of the imperial guards. Ling Xi sat upright beside her, looking straight ahead.

After reviewing all the names, Zhao Qingsui closed the list and put it aside.

The person in front of her hadn’t moved since getting on the carriage. Her back was straight, eyes fixed forward, never looking at her. Zhao Qingsui pressed her lips together, pushing down the irritation rising in her heart, and said nothing.

The two sat in silence. As night deepened, the air turned cold. Wind crept into the carriage through the curtain edges. Zhao Qingsui held a hand warmer. The mix of cold and heat slowly eased the tension from her body. Perhaps it was because Lu Mu was beside her, and she knew she was safe. She gradually fell asleep.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ling Xi saw Zhao Qingsui’s body tilt, about to bump into the carriage wall. She quickly reached out to stop her, placing one hand under her head and the other to steady her.

Hair brushed across Ling Xi’s hand. The warmth of her breath touched her skin. Ling Xi suddenly felt uneasy.

The heat spread through the cloth. Even the touch of their fingertips felt like fire.

Cold wind blew into the carriage, but it couldn’t cool the heat rising in Ling Xi’s body. To keep Zhao Qingsui from getting sick, Ling Xi used one hand to press down the curtains.

She held Zhao Qingsui while trying to keep a proper distance between master and servant. Too close, and it felt wrong.

Too far, and it didn’t help. The pose was awkward.

Still, Ling Xi stayed in that position until the carriage stopped and Su Rui called them to get out.

But Su Rui’s words were cut off by Ling Xi lifting the curtain. She held one finger to her lips. Su Rui fell silent at once.

Zhao Qingsui seemed to be in deep sleep. Her breathing was soft and steady, warm air escaping with each breath.

Ling Xi sat still for a while, then decided to carry her inside to rest. She didn’t want to wake her and didn’t want anyone else to touch her.

As her arms slid around Zhao Qingsui’s neck, Ling Xi whispered, “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

She lifted Zhao Qingsui gently. She was even lighter than Ling Xi expected—not in a healthy way, but in a weak, fragile way. Ling Xi frowned slightly.

Was she always so frail in every life?

Ling Xi stepped down with care, holding Zhao Qingsui steady. Her steps were slow and firm, as if afraid to wake her or
let her bump into anything.

The guards and servants nearby knelt and lowered their heads. Maybe it was Su Rui’s signal, but no one made a sound.

The crescent moon hung high in the night sky. Cold wind blew behind them. Ling Xi stood straight, blocking most of the wind for the one in her arms.

Lanterns hung along the corridor. Their warm light outlined red plum blossoms on the paper. Shadows of flowers spread across the stone path, as if walking over a trail of blossoms. The faint scent of plum mixed with the sound of snow crunching underfoot.

At the corridor’s end was the lake at the edge of the garden. The clear surface reflected the moon. Wind created ripples, breaking the moon into scattered pieces like illusions drifting in the sky.

Su Rui opened the door. Ling Xi carried Zhao Qingsui inside and gently placed her on the bed. She didn’t stay long and didn’t dare to look at her again. She quickly stood and stepped out.

She told Su Rui to take good care of her, then left.

As the sound of footsteps faded, the woman behind the bed curtain suddenly opened her eyes. Sleepiness faded. Her dark eyes sparkled. She half-closed them thoughtfully.

The consort’s body seemed different from other men. Her frame was smaller. Usually, her loose robes hid that. Everyone thought she was just thin.

But now… maybe it wasn’t just that.