Gold?!
The faint smile froze at the corner of her lips. Mo Bei’s mouth twitched once, then again, utterly disheveled in the wind.
Never had she imagined that she, who had always taken pleasure in instantly defeating others, would one day be instantly defeated by a lecherous wolf!
Gold, gold, gold!
This was clearly cutting flesh from her own body. Biting down hard on her crimson lip, Mo Bei crumpled the banknotes in her palm.
Sooner or later, she would tear off that fox’s silver pelt and see just how arrogant the face beneath that mask truly was.
In any case, this grudge had grown huge. If she, Mo Bei, did not get him back for this one day, she swore she was no thief!
“Achoo!” Yelü Qianxiao, who had not gone far, rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking every bit the elegant, carefree rake.
Qinglong, waiting in the night, had no idea what had happened in Aofeng Palace. He only saw that his master seemed to be in a very good mood, so he could not help asking, “May I ask how Your Highness intends to deal with the civil top scholar? Letting him go like this feels rather regrettable to this subordinate.”
“If I didn’t let him go, the guards at Zhinuan Palace would certainly more than double.” Yelü Qianxiao paused, then smiled wickedly. “Besides, for such an honest official who loves the people so dearly, how could this king bear to torture him into a confession? Naturally, attacking the heart is best.”
Hearing this, Qinglong somehow felt a chill spread through his entire body. Ever since he had entered the palace as a shadow guard at the age of five, he had never seen his prince be merciful!
Ning Caichen, ah, Ning Caichen.
Wouldn’t it have been better if you had obediently revealed the whereabouts of the Yaorao Flower? Why insist on provoking Master into acting personally?
Sigh. Pray for your own good fortune.
Only, in another ten days it would be the end of the month. If they still could not obtain the antidote, then… Qinglong looked at Yelü Qianxiao, a layer of heartache spreading through his eyes. Steeling himself, he said, “But if we cannot obtain the Yaorao Flower, then I beg Master to give up!”
Yelü Qianxiao stood hidden beneath the tree, his long bangs veiling a world-destroying chill. “Qinglong, back then, this king did not seal his own throat with one sword. I feigned madness and played the fool, endured humiliation and bore the burden—one year, two years, three years, a full ten years, through summers and springs—all for the sake of waiting for one opportunity.”
“Now there has been a hundred-day drought, officials and merchants collude, politics are rotten, and the people can barely live.”
“The timing, terrain, and people are all aligned, and you tell this king to give up?”
“Heh.” Yelü Qianxiao laughed softly, pressing his fingers against the left side of his chest. “Do you know what is contained here?”
“Hate, hate, hate!” Each word fell with deliberate force, cleaving the ink-black night, mingled with the raging wind. Yelü Qianxiao curved his thin lips, frost that had never thawed through all the years congealing in his blue eyes. “Even if I fail to obtain the Yaorao Flower by then, this king will not give up. Even if I end up without an intact corpse, my bones crushed and ashes scattered!”
Qinglong still wanted to say something, but Yelü Qianxiao raised his left arm and said in a low voice, “Go at once to attend upon Mother Empress. Such a great commotion occurred at Aofeng Palace tonight; the crown prince can no longer restrain himself and has gone to seek that person. You must get there before him and find a way to pass whatever news you hear to Master.”
With a helpless sigh, Qinglong acknowledged the order and flew off toward Tingyu Pavilion.
Tingyu Pavilion was the most luxurious place in the entire imperial palace. Flowers formed its courtyard, bamboo its pavilion, and as far as the eye could see, it was brightly lit, filled with singing and dancing in an age of peace.
Deep within this beautiful scenery stood a small tower, elegant and refined, drawing the eye.
Inside the tower, a woman in plain robes had long hair hanging to her waist, her hair bound with swaying hairpins. Dressed in southern silk, she faced away, her jade-like hands stroking the qin. The clear, tinkling sound was like the murmur of water.
Upon the couch, a person reclined, holding a yellow fan, head resting against dragonwood, gazing at the woman as though no one else existed. Slowly, his lips curved, love and hatred intertwining in his eyes into an enigma.
“Y-Your Majesty.” The elderly eunuch attending at the side spoke with trembling caution. “His Highness the Crown Prince has already been waiting outside the tower for half an hour.”