Chapter 6: The Emperor Arrives

Just then—

A eunuch's voice from outside.

"His Majesty has arrived—"

The lively murmur within Phoenix Palace disappeared at once.

Everyone stood up and turned toward the entrance.

“We pay our respects to Your Majesty.”

The curtain was lifted. Xiao Heng stepped into the hall.

His imperial robe swept lightly across the polished floor, the jade pendants at his waist chiming softly with each measured step.

His gaze swept calmly across the hall: The shattered porcelain, tea-stained table, kneeling palace maid, deathly silence.

Nothing escaped him.

“Rise.”His voice was even.

Everyone obeyed.

He walked past everyone, without pausing once—he walked straight to Su Qingyuan.

Their eyes met.

Qingyuan looked up and smiled. "You're early."

"I was worried about you.” He raised one hand to cup her cheek, thumb brushing lightly over.

His other hand reached for hers, then paused—his fingers brushed against something damp. His gaze dropped immediately, see her sleeve.

His expression darkened: "Why your sleeve is wet?"

"Nothing—"She instinctively tried to pull her hand back.

He caught her wrist before she could.

“Nothing?”His fingers traced the damp fabric, “You call this nothing?”

"I'm fine. Just a little splash."

"A splash?"His jaw tightened, "Boiling tea?"

Before she could finish, he folded back the damp sleeve himself.

The hall was utterly silent.

Qingyuan wiggled her arm, trying to pull it out of his hand, but Xiao Heng applied a little pressure to stop her from moving: “Stay still.”

She lowered her voice: “Your Majesty…”Qingyuan glanced discreetly around the hall, “Everyone is watching.”

Without looking away from her arm, Xiao Heng answered quietly: “Let them.”

His fingertips lightly examined her forearm. Only then did the tension in his shoulders quietly ease.

He released her sleeve only after smoothing the fabric back into place.

He finally raise his eyes, for the first time, he looked toward the rest of the hall: “Who will explain?”

No one answered immediately.

Imperial Concubine Zhao stepped forward with perfect composure: "Your Majesty, it was—"

"I didn’t ask you."His tone never rose. Yet Zhao’s words stopped abruptly.

Zhao Wanru froze. For the first time that day, she realized...His Majesty hadn't looked at her even once.

Empress Su Mingshu finally spoke: “The matter is already being investigated.”Her voice remained calm and composed.

Xiao Heng gave a slight nod: “Very well.” Then he took Qingyuan’s hand, walked her to the seat beside the Empress.

He sat down first, then gently tugged her toward the seat beside him.

She sat beside him. Close enough that their shoulders brushed.

She shifted slightly, like she might pull her hand back.

He didn't tighten his grip. Just held it steady: “Stay."

One quiet word.

She met his eyes...Then stopped trying to pull away.

He looked at the Empress. "Mingshu, Please go on."

Mingshu nodded. "Nanny Xu. The register."

Nanny Xu brought the heavy book and set it before the Empress.

Mingshu opened it. Flipped a few pages. Her finger stopped.

"Lanxin," she read. "Assigned to the Palace Service Bureau."

She looked up. "Not Chengqian Palace."

Dead quiet.

Lanxin's face went white. She was shaking, tears streaming—but she didn't speak. Just knelt there, crying.

Zhao's composure cracked. "That—that can't be right. The register must be old—"

"It's updated every month," Mingshu said flat. "This is the current one."

Zhao opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Lanxin only wept harder. She said nothing.

Xiao Heng didn't move. Just sat there, holding Qingyuan's hand.

"Take her," he said quietly. "Question her."

Two imperial guards stepped forward and hauled Lanxin to her feet. She didn't refuse. Her sobs faded as they dragged her out.

The hall went quiet again.

Zhao remained where she was, every trace of color drained from her face. She immediately knelt: “This concubine awaits Your Majesty’s instructions.”

“The matter concerns the Inner Palace. Await the Empress’s judgment.”He withdrew his gaze completely. No further attention was given to Zhao.

."Y-Your Majesty—"

Mingshu understood immediately. She looked toward Zhao: “Without evidence, you accused Noble Lady Su before the assembled harem.”

“You stirred confusion and disrupted this banquet.”Mingshu’s voice remained calm, “As punishment, one month’s stipend will be withheld. As for the rest…”

Her gaze swept briefly toward the closed doors where Lanxin had been taken: “That will wait until the investigation is complete.”

Zhao pressed her forehead to the floor. "This concubine... understands."

Xiao Heng nodded, without another word, he looked back at Qingyuan.

“Come.”

She glanced around the hall, a hint of hesitation in her eyes: “The banquet…”

Before Xiao Heng could speak, Mingshu set down her teacup.

Her gaze lingered briefly on Qingyuan’s still-damp sleeve.

Then she smiled: “Go.”Her voice was as gentle as ever, “The banquet can continue without you.”

She paused for a heartbeat before adding quietly: “I’ll finish things here.”

Qingyuan looked at her elder sister for a long moment.

“…Yes, Sister.”

Xiao Heng raise his eyes to meet Mingshu’s. No words were exchanged. He simply inclined his head ever so slightly. Mingshu returned the gesture with the faintest nod.

Then without the slightest hesitation, he bend slightly, one arm slipped beneath Qingyuan’s knees, the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

Qingyuan instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck, her cheeks warming: “Xiao Heng…”

Mingshu lowered her eyes with the faintest smile.

Consort Ning lowered her eyes with a faint smile.

Shen Yuyan quietly lifted her teacup, concealing the slight curve at the corner of her lips.

Lady Lin’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Even Zhao Wanru, still kneeling upon the cold stone floor, slowly clenched her hands beneath her sleeves.

Xiao Heng did not look at anyone.

He carried Qingyuan past every seat in the hall.

No one moved at first. Then slowly, conversations started back up. Teacups lifted. Fans opened. The afternoon resumed its rhythm.

Zhao remained on the floor.

No one told her to rise.

She lifted her head slowly. Her eyes drifted to the table where the tea had spilled. The shattered cup. The dark stain spreading across the cloth.

Her gaze followed the path the liquid had taken.

If it had gone just a little farther...

If it had struck her face...

Her fingers curled into her palms.

Why did she move?

She stared at the empty space where Su Qingyuan had been standing.

Why didn't it hit her?