Chapter 9: Officially

Court had barely dispersed when Li Dequan caught up with Xiao Heng at the bottom of the marble steps, falling into step half a pace behind.

"Your Majesty. The imperial physician's report."

Xiao Heng didn't slow. "What did he find?"

"No poison, no wounds, no struggle. The physician believes her heart simply gave out."

Xiao Heng's stride hitched for just a fraction of a second, then evened out again. He walked a few more paces, eyes fixed on the long palace avenue ahead, before he spoke.

"Mm. We'll speak of this at Phoenix Palace."

Li Dequan bowed his head and said nothing more, keeping to his customary distance. Master and servant passed through the side corridor of the Meridian Gate in silence, the morning sunlight cutting sharp angles across the flagstones.

At Phoenix Palace, Mingshu had already finished her breakfast and was sitting by the window, a book open on her lap—though she hadn't turned a page in some time. She had calculated the timing carefully: court would have ended, the walk from the Hall of Supreme Harmony would take so many minutes, and the man who was her husband by decree, but her brother-in-law in every way that mattered, would arrive just about now.

She had dismissed the other attendants an hour ago, leaving only nanny Xu who had been with her since childhood and knew better than to repeat a single word she heard in this room. Nanny Xu stood by the tea table, hands folded, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

When Xiao Heng's footsteps sounded in the outer corridor, Mingshu set the book aside and rose. She smoothed her robes and walked to the center of the room, standing straight and composed as the doors swung open.

"Your Majesty." She performed a full, proper bow.

Xiao Heng crossed the threshold and reached for her elbow, raising her gently. "No need for such formality."

She straightened, and for a brief moment, the morning light caught her face—full and luminous, still in its prime, with eyes that reminded him, always, of someone else. The same arch to the brows, the same line of the jaw. But the resemblance stopped at bone structure. Where Qingyuan’s eyes had always lit up when they found him, the Mingshu’s held the quiet composure of a woman who had long since learned not to expect anything for herself.

For a fleeting moment, the resemblance caught him off guard. Not because she looked like Qingyuan. Because every time he saw her, he was reminded of a kindness he had never deserved.

They took their seats. The Empress gestured toward the tea table, and nanny Xu stepped forward to pour for them both—first the emperor, then her mistress, with the steady, unhurried hands of someone who'd been doing this for forty years.

Li Dequan stationed himself by the door. Once nanny Xu had retreated to stand behind her mistress's chair, the eunuch stepped forward and delivered his report: no poison, no wounds, the physician's conclusion of heart failure; and then the search of the room, which had turned up nothing, not a single personal belonging, as though Lanxin had never inhabited the space at all.

Mingshu listened without interruption. When he finished, she picked up her teacup—still warm—took a sip, and set it down with a soft click.

"Then she was dying anyway." She looked at Xiao Heng. "Whether we investigated or not, she wouldn't have lasted many more days."

Xiao Heng inclined his head. He sat straight, hands resting on his knees, spine upright—still mindful of his posture even here. He was never entirely at ease in Phoenix Palace, never able to fully unclench. Too much remained unspoken between them.

"Someone grew impatient." His voice was level. "Her room was cleaned out. Bedding changed, drawers emptied, not even a stray hair left behind."

Mingshu turned her gaze toward the courtyard beyond the window. The rain had stopped; the stones were still wet, catching glints of light. A few sparrows hopped along the balustrade, pecked once or twice, and flew off.

"We all knew she was on her last legs." Mingshu's voice was quiet, unhurried. "They could have simply waited for her to stop breathing. But they didn't."

"Because they weren't afraid of her dying." Xiao Heng finished the thought for her. "They were afraid of us getting to her room before she did."

Nanny Xu standing behind Mingshu, let out a small hum—the kind of sound old servants made when a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. "Forgive this old servant's boldness," she said, her voice low and dry as autumn leaves, "but if they'd had nothing to hide, there'd have been no reason to rush. They panicked. And the ones who panic—"

"—are the ones who slip," Mingshu finished for her, a faint smile touching her lips. She glanced up at nanny Xu, then back at Xiao Heng. "We won't have to wait long."

Xiao Heng held her gaze. "You think they'll move again."

"I know they will." She picked up her teacup, cradled it in both palms. "They've already shown their hand by cleaning that room. The only question now is how long it will take them to realize they made a mistake—and what they'll do to cover it up."

A beat of silence passed between them. In the quiet, Xiao Heng studied her face again. For an instant, memory blurred the line between the sisters. Then it was gone.

Every time he looked at Mingshu, he was reminded that she had been asked to bear the cost of a choice she had never made.

He wondered, not for the first time, whether any crown could ever repay what she had lost. Whatever happened when all this was over, she would not become another forgotten empress.

Mingshu broke the quiet first.

"All of this is still just conjecture." She set down her cup and turned to face him fully, her expression calm and composed. "We have no proof. No poison, no witness, no evidence. The inner court cannot pursue this any further."

She paused, letting the weight of her next words settle.

"This investigation ends here."

Xiao Heng held her gaze for a long moment. Then, slowly, he gave a single nod.

“Officially.”

He adjusted his sleeves, and looked toward the door where the sunlight poured in. Beyond the threshold, a young locust tree swayed in the breeze, its new leaves catching the light like chips of jade.

"There are still eyes in court watching this," he said. "They'll think we've backed down."

Mingshu's lips curved—the faintest of smiles, gone as quickly as it came. "Let them."

Xiao Heng turned back toward her and inclined his head. “You’ve done more than I ever had the right to ask.”

The Empress picked up her tea again and raised it to her lips, but didn't drink.

"I didn't do it for you." She lifted her eyes to meet his. In that single look was everything—years of patience, and beneath it all, a love for her younger sister that had never wavered. “But you already know why.”

Xiao Heng stood framed in the doorway, the morning light spilling around him and painting his silhouette gold. He opened his mouth, closed it, and finally just inclined his head once more—a small, wordless acknowledgment. A promise, too, though he didn't say it out loud: that when this was all over, he would make sure she had the ending she deserved.

Then he stepped out into the sun.