News that Su Pei had dragged her not-yet-healed body back to the Northern Garrison of the Imperial Guards under the status of "retained for service while bearing guilt" was like a stone tossed into stagnant water—it failed to stir any additional ripples in an already boiling court.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the lingering smoke over the Imperial Ancestral Temple, on the tightly shut doors of the First Princess's residence, and on the Emperor's increasingly deep and inscrutable expression. The joys and sorrows of the Su family were as insignificant as dust before these towering waves.
Only I knew that beneath the calm surface, the heart-devouring undercurrents had never ceased.
The day my eldest sister returned home, the sky was overcast. She refused assistance and walked step by step through the gates of the residence on her own, her back held straight, as though imprisonment and brutal punishment had been nothing more than grit brushing against armor.
But when she saw Father's instantly aged face as he came out to greet her, Mother's tear-filled eyes held back by force, and my own face, paler and frailer than before, that straight spine wavered ever so slightly. She stopped in front of me. Her scarred hand lifted gently, as if she meant to pinch my cheek the way she used to, but it halted midair. In the end, she only patted my shoulder very lightly.
"Yuzhi," her voice was still hoarse, yet deliberately softened, "I scared you. It's my fault."
I shook my head, wanting to speak, but my throat was so tightly blocked that it turned into a suppressed, light cough.
The pain in her eyes deepened. She turned to Mother and said, "Mother, this matter… was by no means an ordinary frame-up. The person behind it aims for something far greater. From now on, the Su family must be extremely careful."
She neither explicitly thanked the Eighth Princess for risking everything to save her, nor complained about the Third Princess's cold observation. She simply placed a heavy warning squarely before the family.
Mother nodded, her gaze briefly meeting mine, complex and hard to read.
Father, meanwhile, only clutched my eldest sister's hand, tears streaming down his face as he babbled over and over that it was good she was back, that she must recover properly.
That night, the lights of the Prime Minister's Residence stayed lit until deep into the night. Mother and my eldest sister held a private discussion in the study. Father stood outside my room, sighing repeatedly.
I lay on the bed, the suffocating pain in my chest intertwining with the chaotic thoughts in my mind. Xiao Linyue's blazing, candid eyes and her warning-filled words; the icy, blade-like "the time has come" on Xiao Yuhuang's secret note; my eldest sister's scarred hands; and that fleeting glance at the ritual gathering—the dark-cyan figure that had subtly changed yet grown even more unfathomable… all of it tangled together, leaving my mind in turmoil and sleep far away.
Aunt Qin brought over calming soup, watched me drink it, and said softly, "Young master, overthinking does your illness no good. Some things cannot be forced by human will, nor can they be seen through at a glance."
I knew she was comforting me, and reminding me as well. But caught in the vortex, how could one truly remain detached?
In the days that followed, the political situation evolved—and deteriorated—at a dizzying pace. The First Princess was gravely wounded in an assassination attempt; the Second Princess was implicated in poisoning and placed under house arrest; the Eighth Princess was entangled by the "gray network" and suffered a severe blow to her power… A series of overwhelming upheavals completely tore apart the former three-way balance.
And atop this field of ruins and chaos, the Third Princess, Xiao Yuhuang—who had remained silent yet always managed to offer "prudent" advice at critical moments and render "meritorious assistance" in investigations—rose like deep water flowing beneath stillness, quietly flooding everyone's field of vision.
Her figure began appearing more frequently outside the Emperor's study. She started taking over duties that had originally belonged to the First or Eighth Princess. Though her position had not been conspicuously promoted, anyone with eyes could see that the Emperor sought her counsel more and more, and that the matters entrusted to her were becoming increasingly central.
My body did not improve with my eldest sister's safe return. The chill of visiting the prison, the shock of my night meeting with Xiao Linyue, and the torment of constant worry piled atop one another like layers of frost, utterly crushing my already fragile health.
I coughed day and night without respite, low fever returned again and again, and the instances of coughing up blood increased. I wasted away rapidly, and even wrapped in heavy fur garments, I was so thin it seemed a gust of wind could scatter me.
Aunt Qin's brow furrowed tighter by the day. The prescriptions were changed again and again, acupuncture performed daily, yet none of it could suppress the air of decline seeping from the depths of my heart and lungs. At times she would look at me, hesitating as if to speak, her eyes filled with deep concern—not only for my illness, but seemingly for something else as well.
Father and Mother were frantic with worry. Imperial physicians were summoned one after another, precious medicinal ingredients sent into my courtyard like falling snowflakes, yet with little effect. One physician privately shook his head at Mother.
"The young master's condition stems from excessive damage to the heart. Medicine cannot bring quick results. He must rest quietly. He must absolutely not suffer further stimulation, nor tax his mind with worry."
Rest quietly? Avoid worry? At a time like this, when the fate of one's closest kin hangs in others' hands, how could that be possible?
I knew my broken body had become another sharp blade hanging over the Su family's heads—and also… in the eyes of certain people, an even more urgent reason to act.
Earlier, the First Princess, Xiao Lintian, had briefly "awakened" and made an accusation extremely unfavorable to the Third Princess, Xiao Yuhuang. It was like ice water poured into boiling oil, instantly detonating the already surging public sentiment.
All the previous doubts, suspicions, and unease surrounding Xiao Yuhuang suddenly found an outlet. In court, voices demanding a thorough investigation of the Third Princess— even calling for her imprisonment—rose sharply.
The remnants of the First Princess's faction, long silent, seized this as their last lifeline and launched a frenzied counterattack. Even some officials who had originally been neutral or sympathetic toward Xiao Yuhuang began to waver because of this "accusation from one on the brink of death."
The situation, which had just begun to clear, abruptly reversed, pointing straight at Xiao Yuhuang!
When the news reached me, I was drinking medicine. My hand shook, and half a bowl of thick, black liquid spilled over the brocade quilt, leaving shocking stains.
Was it her? Was it really her? That woman who had said to me in the plum garden night, "I want that position, and I want you too"—the woman who had always protected me in secret, shielding me from unwanted marriage arrangements—would she, for the throne, deal such a ruthless blow to her own blood-related elder sister?
Xiao Linyue's warning still rang in my ears: "The depth of her mind, the reach of her schemes, far exceed your imagination… Your eldest sister's predicament today may not be without her pushing from behind!"
No… it can't be…
Yet reason coldly reminded me: that was the throne—the supreme power. Before the absolute temptation of power, what were kinship, promises, even that faint, as-yet-undefined affection worth?
My heart felt as though it were seized viciously by an icy hand. Twisting pain surged along with violent coughing. I collapsed by the bedside, coughing until my lungs tore, my vision darkening. In the phlegm I finally spat out, there were unmistakably bright red streaks of blood.
"Young master!" Aunt Qin and Chunyu rushed forward in alarm.