At some unknown point in time, the figure who in memory had always seemed somewhat frail and slender—so thin it felt as though a gust of wind could knock her over—had quietly changed. She stood straight, the lines of her shoulders and back showing, beneath her plain clothing, a supple yet upright strength.
The youthful greenness and fragility of her younger years had faded, her frame evenly and steadily supporting the dignity befitting an imperial princess. Though she was still slim, within that slenderness had settled a calm and subtle sense of power that could not be ignored, belonging to an adult woman. She also seemed to have grown a little taller; standing among several imperial princesses, she no longer appeared especially small or timid.
She stood there quietly, eyes lowered, her expression as placid and unruffled as ever, as if the taut tension of an impending storm around her, and the countless overt or covert appraisals, had nothing to do with her. Only her subtly changed outline, and the almost restrained, composed bearing she radiated, spoke soundlessly of the passage of time and growth achieved in obscurity.
The long ceremony had reached its midpoint. Just as the ritual master on the high platform was chanting a passage praying to "wash away baleful miasma and cleanse the realm," a sudden upheaval erupted!
A shrill, piercing scream tore through the air, its source unknown somewhere within the imperial palace!
Immediately after came the clang of weapons colliding, the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground, and brief, terrified screams!
"Assassins!!"
"Protect the Emperor! Guard His Majesty!!"
The square plunged into instant chaos! The crowd was like an anthill struck apart—people shrieked, shoved one another, and tried to scatter in all directions. Yet the surrounding imperial guards abruptly tightened their formation, blades and spears drawn, cold light flashing as they sealed off the entire square, shouting harshly, "Silence! Remain where you are! Anyone who moves without orders will be executed on the spot!"
The disturbance was forcibly suppressed, but panic spread through the air like a plague. I saw Father stagger from being jostled; Mother grabbed him at once and shielded me behind her, her sharp gaze sweeping toward the imperial dais.
Her Majesty the Empress sat upright upon the throne, her expression cold and composed, without the slightest hint of panic. The Empress Consort sat at her side, her face slightly pale.
"What is there to panic about." Her Majesty's voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly to every ear through some form of amplification, bearing an icy chill that seemed to freeze the land for a thousand miles. "They are nothing more than a few rats that cannot bear the light, jumping around for a moment, that is all."
As her words fell, a squad of elite imperial guards, their bodies drenched in blood and their armor stained red, hurried out from the side gate of the ancestral temple, escorting several individuals whose hands were bound behind their backs, whose mouths were stuffed with gags, and who wore the uniforms of palace guards. They were thrown heavily at the foot of the imperial steps.
The commanding officer of the guards dropped to one knee, his voice loud yet trembling with suppressed agitation. "Reporting to Your Majesty! Twenty-seven rebels attempted to take advantage of the prayer ceremony to mix in among the guards and plot treason. They have all been captured and executed! These six are the ringleaders taken alive! From their persons were seized poisoned daggers, crossbow mechanisms, and other deadly weapons, and… one token from the palace of the First Imperial Princess!" As he spoke, he presented with both hands a bloodstained red-gold token.
A token of the First Imperial Princess?!
Dead silence fell over the entire assembly. All eyes shot at once toward the female official attending in place of the First Imperial Princess. Her face was already drained of all color; she collapsed to the ground, trembling like a leaf.
The Eighth Imperial Princess, Xiao Linyue, stepped forward sharply, her voice like a sword drawn from its sheath. "Outrageous! To dare slander the Crown Heir! Father, there must be something amiss in this matter! Your daughter requests permission to investigate this thoroughly and to punish severely those who have framed her!"
Her reaction was lightning-fast, immediately defining the incident as a "frame-up." Yet upon the throne, the Empress merely cast a cool glance at the token, then at the Eighth Imperial Princess, and said nothing.
Just then, from another direction, came another burst of hurried footsteps. A chief palace eunuch of the inner court, dressed in purple robes, rushed forward in a state of panic, stumbling and half-crawling to the foot of the imperial steps, crying out in a shrill voice, "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, this is terrible! The First Imperial Princess… the First Imperial Princess—she has been attacked in her sleeping palace!!"
What?!
The First Imperial Princess attacked?!
In her own palace?!
This news was even more shocking than the earlier cry of "assassins." The Crown Heir being attacked within the palace was no longer a simple conspiracy—it was a matter that shook the very foundation of the state!