In the dead of night, Qiu Che turned over in her sleep.
Half-conscious, she cracked her eyes open and found a shadowy figure sitting beside her.
Thin, head lowered.
A chill ran down Qiu Che's spine. Her body reacted before her mind caught up, she lifted her leg, ready to kick.
But just as the figure turned to look at her, she forced herself to stop, mere inches away from making contact.
Li Qingwu's long hair cascaded over her shoulders, her expression oddly dazed under the moonlight as she stared at Qiu Che.
Qiu Che exhaled sharply. "You… what are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Unlike in her past life, this time, they had been living together to maintain the facade of a loving relationship.
Both were careful to keep their boundaries. Even though nothing stood between them, they had never crossed the line.
But sitting up like this in the middle of the night without a word, Qiu Che had never seen her do this before.
No wonder she was on high alert.
Li Qingwu remained silent.
After a while, she turned her head, gazing out the window. Her voice was soft. "I had a dream."
Qiu Che's heart skipped a beat. The tension she had just shaken off crept back in, along with a faint drowsiness.
But her instincts outran her thoughts, and she blurted out an obvious question. "A nightmare?"
"...Mm."
Qiu Che let out an awkward "Oh." "It was just a dream. Don't take it seriously."
Li Qingwu lowered her head. After a long pause, she finally said, "What if."
Qiu Che, half-asleep again, muttered, "What?"
"What if I can never be of any help to you?" Li Qingwu's voice was barely above a whisper. "Would you send me away?"
She spoke as if casually, "Send me somewhere else. Like… your family's old estate in Jiangnan."
It seemed like an offhand remark, but Qiu Che caught it immediately.
She snapped fully awake.
Her body tensed, though she kept her expression as lazy and indifferent as before, as if still caught in drowsiness. With a relaxed tone, she asked, "Why are you suddenly asking this?"
In her past life, to prevent the Qiu family from harming Li Qingwu, Qiu Che had sent her away three months after their wedding.
Before leaving, Li Qingwu's departure had stirred up a commotion. Qiu Chudong, upon hearing the news, had stormed into the princess's residence, scolding her for sending Li Qingwu away, acting all righteous and indignant.
If Qiu Che hadn't already learned from Fu Ling that Qiu Zhe had been harassing Li Qingwu almost daily, she might have actually believed him.
That argument had been exhausting. By the time Qiu Che realized it, Li Qingwu was already gone.
She hadn't even had a chance to see her off.
And now, Li Qingwu suddenly brought this up…
Could it be? That fleeting hunch she once had, was she right?
Had Li Qingwu been reborn too?
No. That wasn't right.
Qiu Che quickly dismissed the thought.
If Li Qingwu had been reborn earlier, she wouldn't have been caught off guard by the drugging incident.
Even if she did have memories, they wouldn't be complete.
Judging by her words tonight, tinged with a sense of déjà vu, it was more likely she had only dreamed about her past life.
Which raised another question.
Did Li Qingwu retain any memories of her previous life?
And if so, how much did she remember?
In that brief moment of silence, Qiu Che's mind was racing. Li Qingwu, too, seemed lost in thought.
Then, she let out a quiet laugh, breaking the strange tension in the air.
"Forget it, I was just saying nonsense."
"You're right. It was just a dream."
She lay back down, turning to face the wall. Her tone was light as she said, "Sorry for disturbing your sleep… go back to bed."
With that, Li Qingwu tugged at the blanket and fell silent.
All Qiu Che could see was the back of her head.
Qiu Che watched her for a long time, breathing quietly, feeling a little helpless.
What was this?
Had she remembered or not?
…
The next morning, Qiu Che wasn't given much trouble at court. However, a strange tension filled the imperial court, like the calm before a storm.
Minister Wu's face looked even worse than it had yesterday, worse than when he had been impeached for covering up his son's death by silencing witnesses.
Qiu Che pretended not to notice and was the first to leave once court was dismissed.
The moment Minister Wu returned home, his steward approached him, speaking in hushed tones. "Young Master has locked himself in his room all day. He refuses to see anyone."
Minister Wu frowned.
Yesterday, when Wu Yiqi had heard the rumors, he went straight to the study and asked him outright if they were true.
Wu Rusheng had remained silent for a long time before nodding.
Qiu Che was already on the verge of throwing evidence in his face. Soon, the entire capital would know. What was the point in denying it?
Besides, Wu Rusheng had always been proud of his grandson. He believed Wu Yiqi wouldn't hold such a trivial matter against him.
Killing someone, it was nothing unusual for a politician.
As expected, Wu Yiqi hadn't said a word.
He simply nodded, acknowledged it, and then turned and walked away.
Wu Rusheng had felt uneasy about it at the time, but he hadn't thought much of it.
Now, hearing the steward's report, dissatisfaction crept into his expression.
No matter what, how could the boy starve himself in protest?
Wu Rusheng flicked his sleeve and said, "Where is he?"
"In the ancestral hall."
The doors to the ancestral hall were tightly shut. Several servants stood outside, looking helpless, not daring to knock.
Not that they hadn't tried, every time they did, the young master had yelled at them to go away.
Wu Rusheng's expression darkened. He strode up the steps and knocked twice.
As expected, an irritated voice came from inside. "I told you to leave me alone! I'm not hungry, I'm not thirsty, just go away!"
"It's me."
Silence fell instantly.
Wu Rusheng paused, then softened his tone, though his natural authority still bled through. "Enough of this, Yiqi."
Wu Yiqi said nothing.
Wu Rusheng kept his patience. "It was just some woman you never even met. I killed her because she deserved it. If she hadn't tried to harm your father, I wouldn't have gone so far."
He took a deep breath and continued, his voice turning gentle.
"I kept this from you for your own good. I didn't want you to dwell on it. I wanted you to have a good impression of your mother. Who could have guessed that Qiu Che would interfere—"
"What did you just say?"
The doors to the ancestral hall swung open.
Wu Yiqi stood there, his young, handsome face shadowed with something dark.
Wu Rusheng withdrew his hand, pleased that he had finally come out. His tone lightened. "I said, "I did this for you. I didn't want you to have a shadow over your heart. It was just a lowly woman you never even met—"
"A lowly woman I never met…" Wu Yiqi repeated, voice rising, a cold sneer curling his lips. "Grandfather, is that how you see my mother?"
"Did you really think that's why I locked myself away all day?"
A man reeking of alcohol lay sprawled across the other end of the table, clutching a wine gourd in his hand. His form was utterly unkempt, muttering incoherently under his breath.
Hearing the knock at the door, Yang Qiu lifted his head, set down his book, and stood up to offer a polite bow. His voice was calm and measured. "Lord Qiu."
Qiu Che returned the courtesy. "No need for such formalities, Brother Yang. Since we are now allies, calling me by name is perfectly fine."
Yang Qiu smiled faintly. "Etiquette must not be neglected."
Qiu Che shrugged indifferently, knowing that Yang Qiu could be remarkably stubborn about certain things. She let it go and turned her gaze toward the other person in the room. Raising an eyebrow slightly in surprise, she asked, "Wu Yiqi? What's with him?"
Yang Qiu sighed. "I ran into him on the way here. He stopped my carriage and insisted on coming along. I couldn't shake him off, so I had no choice but to bring him. My apologies."
Just then, Wu Yiqi lifted his head, his face flushed with intoxication. He stared at Qiu Che in a daze for a moment before breaking into a foolish grin. "Qiu... Brother Qiu! You're here too! What a coincidence! Come, come drink with me, let's drown our sorrows in wine!"
As he spoke, he hiccupped, the strong scent of alcohol spilling into the air.
Qiu Che wrinkled her nose and took a step back in distaste. A moment's thought was all it took for her to understand why he was in this state.
Most likely, it was because of his mother.
But why had he gone out of his way to stop Yang Qiu's carriage?
With that in mind, Qiu Che sat down nearby and shot Yang Qiu a questioning look.
Yang Qiu, remarkably perceptive, immediately understood her meaning. He sighed with a touch of helplessness. "Brother Qiu should already know, my father is Prince Zhao."
The same man who had once been like a sworn brother to Prime Minister Wu, only to part ways in the end.
"He stopped my carriage to ask me..."
"Ask you what?"
"He asked whether my father severed ties with his grandfather because he had seen through the man's true nature."
As he spoke, Yang Qiu picked up his teacup and took a slow sip, his gaze lowered.
He was already twenty-three years old, the third son of Prince Zhao. Since Prince Zhao and Prime Minister Wu were of similar age, it meant that, by a strange twist of fate, he was technically a generation above Wu Yiqi.
For Wu Yiqi to voice such thoughts to a colleague he wasn't particularly close to, he must have been truly, thoroughly drunk.
Seeing the contemplative look on Qiu Che's face, Yang Qiu asked, "Aren't you curious why he would say such a thing?"
Qiu Che blinked. "I assumed you had already figured it out."
Their gazes met. Yang Qiu exhaled lightly and said, "So, Prime Minister Wu really has... betrayed the country?"
"Nine times out of ten," Qiu Che replied coolly, looking out the window. "Otherwise, I can't imagine how he has continued to get his hands on narcotics from the Southern Barbarians."
She had already written to Yang Qiu about the case the day before, yet hearing it confirmed aloud still left him momentarily dazed. "...My father actually said something similar before."
"Oh?"
"He said that Prime Minister Wu's ambition was too great, and that one day, he would stray from the right path." Yang Qiu spoke softly. "I never believed it. But now..."
"I never believed it either," Wu Yiqi suddenly interjected.
No one had noticed when he had opened his eyes. Though his face was still red, his gaze had mostly sobered.
Lying there, he murmured, "So many people told me he wielded power like an emperor, and said he was overly ambitious... But I never believed them. I always thought that his heart remained true to the people, that even if he held sway over the entire court, he would never change."
"In the end, it was he himself who shattered that illusion."
Tears welled in his eyes once more.
As if embarrassed by his own display, he turned his face away and buried it against the table, sobbing quietly.
It was hard to say which form of crying was more disgraceful.
Qiu Che, utterly unmoved, even felt the urge to laugh at the sound of his weeping.
She commented indifferently, "People change."
Yang Qiu asked, "And what about you?"
"Hmm?"
"From the reforms you've been implementing, I can see that you wish to change this corrupt court." Yang Qiu's voice was mild. "Will your own heart change as well?"
"Me?" Qiu Che thought for a moment before smiling. "Without an initial aspiration, how can there be change?"
From the very beginning, she had stepped into the whirlpool of power simply to gain her father's recognition and approval.
That initial desire had long since shifted into an all-consuming climb to the top.
The higher she climbed, the greater her authority.
As she had once told Li Qingwu, she had no grand ideals.
She simply found the court rotten to the core, sickening in its decay.
Rather than let it fester, she might as well overturn it and rule in her own way.
In the process, her legal reforms had included numerous provisions to improve the lives of women but that, too, was merely to secure a safety net in case her secret of dressing as a man was ever exposed.
Yet Yang Qiu merely chuckled lightly and said, "Regardless of whether one's aspirations change or not, a gentleman is judged by his actions, not his intentions."
Qiu Che paused.
She glanced at Yang Qiu, a peculiar expression crossing her face. "Someone else told me that once."
Do all rule-abiding people like to say such things?
Yang Qiu replied, "It simply felt appropriate to say."
Then, he asked, "Now that the Prime Minister has set his sights on you, what do you plan to do?"
"When soldiers come, we send generals; when water floods in, we build a dam. Business as usual." Qiu Che met his gaze. "Brother Yang, you didn't invite me here just for this conversation, did you?"
"Of course not." Yang Qiu shook his head, hesitated briefly, then lowered his voice. "I heard a rumor, that Her Majesty the Empress is involved with the commander of the Imperial Guard. Is it true?"
Their eyes met. In that fleeting moment, Qiu Che narrowed hers slightly. "Where did you hear that?"
"This morning, I overheard some officials discussing it," Yang Qiu frowned. "So it's true?"
Qiu Che didn't respond immediately. She mulled it over before saying, "I suspect this 'overhearing' was anything but accidental."
Just as they were deep in discussion, Wu Yiqi, who should have been fast asleep, suddenly slapped the table, making both of them jump.
He wobbled to his feet, his face still flushed but his expression strangely serious. Eyeing them suspiciously, he asked, "You two are allies?"
For a moment, Qiu Che thought he had sobered up. She raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't approve?"
"No." Wu Yiqi shook his head solemnly.
"You're both my good friends! How could you form an alliance behind my back! So..."
"So?"
Wu Yiqi grabbed Yang Qiu's hand. Before Yang Qiu could react, he seized Qiu Che's hand as well and declared earnestly, "Can I join you?"