Chapter 116

 

Xiao Liu shi‘s body was carried away, and the guards and palace eunuchs also retreated.

The empty West Hall was restored, leaving only Pei Xiaoyuan holding Xuyu in his arms.

“It’s all my fault for coming too late! It’s all my fault letting you get scared…” He kept comforting her.

Liu Ceye’s remnants were still numerous. He had been busy with this matter since last night, and until tonight, thinking that the emperor was not in good condition and worried about her situation in the palace, after making arrangements, he came back to take a look, but he didn’t expect to encounter such an accident.

Thinking that if he had been a step slower, she might have fallen under Xiao Liu’s knife, a deep fear gripped him. Without hesitation, he carried her out of the hall, where the air still seemed tainted with the scent of blood. On an empty terrace with fresh air, he sat on the ground with his back against a pillar, untied his outer cloak, and wrapped the person who was still trembling in his arms.

He said nothing more—only held her tightly, letting her fully relax against his chest, his arms securely encircling her.

Finally, he felt the person in his arms slowly stop trembling and curled up.

Just when he thought she was asleep, suddenly, as if she remembered something, she opened her eyes and called out softly, “Mother!”

Then, she jumped up from Pei Xiaoyuan’s arms, left him behind, and hurried back to the West Hall.

In the West Hall, seven to eight palace eunuchs were running back and forth in a hurry. Some were lying on the ground, wiping the blood off the ground, and some were cleaning the blood stains on the wall.

The base design there had originally been lotus flowers and swirling clouds, but the blood had already seeped into the pigments. After wiping away the surface stain, a young palace eunuch tried again. Though he was exceedingly careful, the blood still spread. Panicking, he attempted to fix it, but the more he wiped, the more the underlying pattern blurred.

“Stop! Who gave you permission to touch this?!”

The supervising palace eunuch rushed over in alarm. When he saw the affected section of the mural, which now veiled in a faint, hazy red, starkly contrasting with the untouched portions, his face paled in shock. Stamping his foot, he let out a string of furious curses. The young eunuch was so frightened that his face turned pale and he knelt on the ground in panic, kowtowing and begging for mercy.

The palace eunuchs who worked here witnessed how much the emperor cherished this mural. They often saw him coming here in the dead of night, wandering around, gazing at it from afar, or even sitting facing the wall until dawn.

Though the painting had already been severely damaged by Empress Liu’s blade, and the destruction was not minor, what was done was done. But now, improper cleaning had caused even more damage—if the emperor were to take offense…

The supervising palace eunuch stared at the large, spreading red stain on the mural, his heart pounding in panic. He paced back and forth like a headless fly, utterly at a loss. Then, he noticed a figure standing at the entrance of the hall.

The princess had returned.

He hurried over to greet her, and before he could say anything, he knelt down to apologize, and then hesitantly told the story again. The young eunuch who had caused the trouble was so frightened that he collapsed on the ground, trembling.

Xuyu walked to the painted wall.

Everyone behind her held their breath at first, feeling extremely nervous, but soon they unexpectedly discovered that the princess looked completely different from when she was just rescued by her husband.

She seemed to have recovered her emotions. She just stared at the scarred beauty in silence for a moment, her eyes finally swept across the part that was accidentally destroyed by the young eunuch, and said in a somewhat suppressed voice: “It’s fine. You can go down.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The supervisor thanked her and hurriedly left the West Hall with his men. Later, other palace eunuchs working in the Jixian Hall arrived under the leadership of Yang Zai’en. They carried in a worktable and carefully arranged an array of tools—paintbrushes, pigments, trowels, lime, white clay, and other materials needed for restoring the mural. A ladder was brought in, and additional candles were lit, their glow illuminating the entire mural. After everything was ready, the palace eunuchs left, and Xuyu was the only one left in the hall.

She walked out of the small room in the corner of the west hall, having taken off her jewelry and hairpins, and dressed in simple attire suited for painting.

She came to the work table, picked up the spatula, and went to the painted wall. She raised her arm, and began to scrape away the uneven, criss-crossing marks on the wall made by the knife.

The sky brightened, then darkened once more, and the lamps were lit. She threw herself into the work, unaware of thirst or hunger, untouched by exhaustion. Alone, she painted tirelessly for an entire day and night. Finally, deep into the following night, she placed the final stroke of pigment on the wounded face of the beauty.

The mural had been restored and was back to its original state, with the people in the painting seeming to be walking on the clouds again.

She stood on the top of the ladder, staring into the smiling eyes of the beauty under the light for a long time. Letting out a deep breath, she finally lowered her arm that had already become extremely sore. Steadying herself, she prepared to climb down—but then paused. Slowly, she turned her head back.

There was a person standing quietly behind her.

It was Pei Xiaoyuan.

He was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. When she turned around, he stretched out his hand to her, and then, without waiting for her to react, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, and easily carried her down from the ladder.

His embrace was steady and strong. Fatigue came at her like a wave. She quietly leaned in his arms, letting him carry her into the small room and lay on a couch.

He then removed her shoes, wrung a face towel in clean water, and wiped off the paint that had stained her nose. He continued wiping her hands one by one, and finally took off the sword from his waist and placed it on a low table beside the couch. After turning off the lights, he lay down beside her with his clothes on.

“I have asked about His Majesty, and there’s no major problem for now. It’s still early in the morning, get some more sleep.”

In the darkened small room in the west hall, he covered her with a quilt and spoke slowly.

Her hand groped along his arm and reached his left shoulder.

“Does the injury still hurt?”

She stroked it gently and asked him.

“It doesn’t hurt. It’s healed now.” he replied.

“What’s this?”

Her hand groped down again, and in the darkness, she touched a hard thing still tied on his belt that was pressing against her.

“It’s a fish talisman. The Imperial Seal Officer made another one for me.”

He took off the new fish talisman that the Imperial Seal Officer had specially made for him and threw it on the table, lest it continue pressing uncomfortably against her.

“What about the broken one?”

She closed her eyes and asked casually, “I recall the Imperial Seal Officer mention it in his report the other day—you didn’t return it.”

“No, I didn’t. The old one… I carelessly lost it. I couldn’t find it.”

He paused and explained.

She stopped talking, leaned against him, and pressed her face deeply into his arms.

The Liu family collapsed overnight, and Xiao Liu shi had died—by her own hand, no less. Yet, she felt none of the satisfaction that vengeance was supposed to bring. Instead, a deep and overwhelming sense of unease took hold of her, as if at any moment, some new terrible ominous thing would befall her. She was obviously very tired, longing to sleep—perhaps when she woke, the unsettling dread gnawing at her heart would be gone. But when she closed her eyes, the hysterical and resentful curse of Xiao Liu shi rang in her ears, and in front of her appeared that pool of foul blood seeping from beneath the gate of the abandoned palace, inching its way toward the cracked stone threshold. And her father, his skinny hand that was cold to the touch…

“Pei Er, you promised me that no matter what happens, you will not leave me…”

She was suddenly gripped by an inexplicable feeling of powerlessness. After a moment, she could no longer control herself and whispered in a suppressed voice.

He seemed startled, and soon responded in a gentler voice: “I promise you.”

“I don’t believe it…”

In the darkness of the night, she murmured, her body pressing against his arm as she nestled even closer. Her arms, soft as if boneless, clung to him like wet grass, winding around his neck.

“I don’t believe it.” She said with a bit of stubbornness in her tone.

“Pei Er, prove it to me…” she whispered again, her words entangling him like a dreamlike plea.

After a moment of silence, he used his free hand to untie the belt around his waist. After pulling it out, he casually threw it on the table.

Amidst the short and slight collision between the copper buckle of his belt and the fish talisman on the sword handle, he turned over and pressed her under him.

“Hao’er…”

Finally, with a slightly trembling voice, he whispered in her ear the name he had only dared to utter in his heart before this night.

This sudden, unexpected surge of emotion—completely beyond his anticipation—brought Pei Xiaoyuan an unfamiliar yet intoxicating sense of fulfilment and release. It was unlike anything he had ever known before, as if it had risen from the very depths of his soul, his blood, his marrow. Later, he could no longer remember how many times he called “Hao’er” and urging her to respond.

And in the hushed, lingering echoes of her voice, whispering “Pei Er” again and again, the long night stretched endlessly, their passion unbroken. No longer did it feel like a fleeting dream of longing—it was real.

The palace clock sounded the fourth watch. She finally exhausted the last bit of strength left in her body, no longer getting trapped in her lingering thoughts, and fell into a deep sleep.

Pei Xiaoyuan lay on the narrow couch in the small room in the corner of the western hall of Ziyun Palace, his chest heaving. When his breathing calmed down and the hot sweat slowly disappeared, he opened his eyes, sat up quietly, and carefully wrapped her body with the quilt. Then, he turned over and got off the bed, put on his clothes one by one, tied his belt, put on his socks and boots, and then tied back his sword and fish talisman. After finishing, he gently opened the door, walked out of the small room, and told Yang Zai’en, who was on duty in the corner of the hall, that if she woke up, he should tell her that he had other important tasks to do and needed to arrest the remnants of the rebellion who had not yet been brought to justice. Then he walked out of Ziyun Palace and walked towards the palace gate.

Chang’an had once again imposed a strict curfew since the crown prince forced the palace coup. Any unauthorized nighttime activities were prohibited, including inside the lanes. Anyone who violate the order would be treated as a traitor.

He was an exception. He quietly stopped outside the gate of the Jinzouyuan, ordered it to be opened, and walked in.

Due to the curfew, the entire courtyard was dark, without even a lantern.

In the backyard, moonlight leaked in from an open window, reflecting a figure on the bed.

The man was motionless, as if he was fast asleep.

Pei Xiaoyuan pushed open the half-open door, bolted it, went inside, walked to the window, closed it tightly, then struck the flint a few times and lit a remaining candle.

In the gradually brightening light of the candle, he turned towards the bed, stared at the man on top of it for a moment, and spoke coldly:

“Get up, I want to ask you something.”

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