Chapter 6 A soft arm gently…
Ren Ping lowered his head and followed the factory superintendent eunuch into the Princess’s bedchamber, catching a glimpse of blurred reflections on the polished floor in his peripheral vision. The air carried a peculiar fragrance, likely emanating from the bathtub behind the screen that had yet to be removed.
The Princess was biting into an apple, her voice tinged with the fruit’s aroma, sounding refreshing to the ear: “Lord Ren is too willful. Just because you claim to have smelled the scent of Tracking Powder, you can use that as evidence to come here and arrest someone? If I were to take a Trace-Revealing Pill and say I smelled the scent on you, would that mean you’re the murderer?”
Ren Ping quickly assessed the layout and structure of the room using all five senses, offering no reply. The factory superintendent smoothed things over with a few words, but his tone was equally pressing: “Since the Princess wishes to clear her name of suspicion, why fear a search? Lord Ren will restore the Princess’s innocence.”
“Suspicion? Hmph. I don’t need any innocence either.” The Princess chuckled, her tone clearly mocking. “Ren Ping, you couldn’t catch anyone in the Xie residence you so meticulously arranged. Do you think you’ll succeed here?”
Ren Ping looked toward the Princess seated in the chair. She had one leg crossed over the other, her freshly washed, still-damp hair cascading loosely over her shoulders without any hairpins or ornaments. The stark contrast between her jet-black hair, her unpowdered face, and her bare feet was striking. Ren Ping lowered his head in silence, surprised that the Princess had so readily allowed them entry while she herself was in such disarray. Not only royalty but even common folk avoided exposing bare feet in their daily conduct.
It was said that the Princess shared the same eccentricity as her bewitching mother, the imperial consort. However, having witnessed two generations of emperors and watched the Princess grow from a tender child to the graceful, marriageable age she was now, Ren Ping knew that her flamboyant temperament was entirely different from what most imagined. The imperial consort was a bird trapped in a cage, beating against it until it bled. The Princess was a bird raised in a cage, one that delighted in pecking at people. Both birds were covered in blood—one earned mockery and pity, the other pure anger.
Ren Ping turned and walked toward the screen: “Superintendent Eunuch, please assist the Princess in putting on her headdress and shoes. My subordinates will also enter to conduct the search.”
The old eunuch bowed and, as instructed, picked up the shoes and approached. Ming Luo stepped forward angrily to rebuke him, but Zhao Rongzhang, listening to the sound of Ren Ping stirring the water with his inserted blade, waved a hand and said, “Lord Ren and the superintendent are simply desperate. Another consort has died, and they don’t know how to explain it to my imperial brother. Ah, let them search and investigate. How difficult it must be for them.”
Zhao Rongzhang pointed to the pair of embroidered shoes adorned with pink pearls nearby and said to the old eunuch, “Ming Luo, fetch needle and thread for him. The side here—yes, right there—has lost a pearl, and the silk has frayed.
“You mend it for me, then have Ming Luo put them on me. I don’t mind your repulsive appearance, and you shouldn’t find me difficult to serve either.”
The old eunuch’s expression instantly shifted from an amused smile to humiliated fury. He shrieked, “This old servant only serves the sovereign!”
“Indeed, you all serve the sovereign. Yet here you are. So who is currently attending by the sovereign’s side?” Zhao Rongzhang tilted her head with a smile. “I truly worry for you.”
The old eunuch’s expression changed. Ren Ping had already searched most of the places where a Shadow Guard could hide in the area, leaving only the space around the Princess. He slowly walked back, his blade wet with two damp flower petals, droplets trickling from its tip. He replied in a measured tone, “His Majesty is protected by three thousand Imperial Guards and thirty thousand Forbidden Army soldiers.”
Ming Luo watched the approaching glint of the blade and stepped in front of the Princess. “Lord Ren, searching the Princess’s bedchamber wasn’t enough—now you intend to lay hands on the Princess? The late Emperor’s mourning rites are not yet over, and you dare to humiliate the Princess like this?”
“This subject seeks to eliminate the treacherous villain hiding by the Princess’s side.”
“What treacherous villain! Are you referring to me, Lord Ren?” Ming Luo drew the sword at his waist with a sharp hiss.
Zhao Rongzhang was still chewing on an apple. She ate slowly, and some of the fruit had already begun to yellow. Whether Ren Ping had truly smelled the Tracking Powder no longer mattered—he only needed to complete his task. Whether he would actually kill her, however, was worth considering.
Her death would be a tremendous boon for Zhao Jue. And assassinating the Princess within a heavily surrounded Princess’s Mansion, then providing a plausible explanation for her death, would not be difficult. After all, there was no longer a father who “cherished his daughter as his own life” to shield her.
It was clear that Ren Ping had been thoroughly enraged by today’s defeat. So enraged that he could no longer remain calm, descending into near madness. He must still be unable to comprehend how the cat had penetrated several zhang of brick and mechanisms to take Young Master Xie’s life, or how it had shaken off all of them despite being coated in powder. Extreme hatred drove him to pursue the trail to the Princess’s Mansion, casting even the Emperor’s safety aside in his obsession to win.
Anger makes one full of flaws. Zhao Rongzhang particularly enjoyed watching these people become enraged—it meant she controlled their emotions, and the mind is always ruled by emotion.
Having eaten her fill of the apple, Zhao Rongzhang had a palace maid bring water. She washed her hands, dried them, and raised her eyebrows. “News travels so slowly—it seems my imperial brother has no idea you’re here. A friendly reminder, Lord Ren: the fastest you can travel from the Princess’s Mansion to Jinshen Hall is half a ke. If the Emperor dies, what good will catching the real culprit do?”
Ren Ping did not believe it at all. No matter what, the Mysterious Cat could not possibly go to assassinate the new Emperor—otherwise, it would have done so long ago. Zhao Jue’s death would be no benefit to her; with wolves on the left and tigers on the right, without Zhao Jue blocking the way, they could tear her apart bite by bite until nothing remained.
Moreover, the palace was not some minor Xie residence. The Mysterious Cat was injured; even without the Tracking Powder, the scent of blood would not escape the hunting dogs they kept.
Ren Ping fixed his gaze on the canopy bed behind the Princess—an excellent hiding place. As his left foot was about to step onto the wooden stairs, Ming Luo thrust his sword. Ren Ping shifted his shoulder slightly to avoid it, but Ming Luo immediately launched lethal strikes, refusing to let him advance another step. Yet Ren Ping easily blocked them with his blade. The clash of sword and blade rang out deafeningly, and he still stepped onto the stairs.
Just then, chaos erupted outside. Reports echoed like waves, halting his killing intent at his feet.
“Jinshen Hall is on fire! Jinshen Hall is on fire! The Commander and the Director are urgently requested to return to the palace to rescue His Majesty!”
“What?!”
The old eunuch hurried out in a panic, and Ren Ping turned to look outside the hall. Ming Luo thrust toward his heart, but he deflected the blade and stepped down the wooden stairs, narrowly avoiding it. Everyone’s gaze shifted toward the direction of the imperial palace. Ren Ping leaped onto the double-eaved roof and indeed saw, amidst the towering palace buildings, a flame like a giant hand licking through the darkness.
The commotion retreated from the Princess’s Mansion, surging toward the palace grounds instead. The place grew quiet once more.
Zhao Rongzhang patted Ming Luo’s shoulder. Ming Luo’s chest was still heaving violently, clearly overwhelmed with anger. She instructed her to lead the servants in removing the bathtub, replacing it with a new one, and refilling it with water. Ming Luo let out a sigh and said sincerely, “Your Highness truly understands Ren Ping.”
Burning down Jinshen Hall had been part of the plan from the start—an excellent way to divert everyone’s attention and shift the focus of the case of the consort’s sudden death onto Zhao Jue. The fire would leave no trace of any arson suspect and would ultimately be attributed to the emperor’s lack of virtue and benevolence, offending the heavens. Who told Zhao Jue to be so brainless and impatient, still observing a vegetarian fast yet forcing her into marriage?
Not to mention the common people, who were completely unaware of the inside story—even the numerous Imperial Guards and Forbidden Guards they so often boasted about, who had tried every means to capture and guard against the assassin called “Mysterious Cat” by the Left Commander-in-Chief, had failed to find even a trace of him. As consorts continued to die one after another, they too began to suspect whether heaven was punishing the new emperor, bringing misfortune upon these poor prospective consorts.
As long as Guan Xuan remained uncaptured, the people of the world would never believe that their arrogant, ignorant princess, who had been under house arrest for nearly three months, possessed any ability to resist the new emperor.
Zhao Rongzhang had Ming Luo fetch several ingots of gold to reward the palace maids who had been hauling water back and forth that night. After they all left, Zhao Rongzhang picked up a lamp and walked behind the curtain.
It was pitch dark here. The halo of candlelight gradually illuminated the gauze curtain, as well as the cat hiding motionless within. The cat clutched his wrist guard, not moving until the flickering flame fully lit up his face. He raised his moist, bright eyes.
The incident had been sudden, and the cat hadn’t had time to fully dress. His collar and chest were partially exposed. As the halo of light shifted downward, the cat understood all too well that Her Highness’s gaze followed it there.
He turned his face away slightly.
Her Highness admired him, smiling as she said, “Come here.”
Guan Xuan lowered his gaze and walked to the princess.
Zhao Rongzhang grasped the tip, toying with it a few times. The little mute’s breathing grew abruptly ragged, his lips parting slightly, his eyes moist and unsure where to look. He could only stand there with restraint, allowing her to play with him. Dampness seeped through the fabric of his clothes.
“It’s been so long. How much longer do you intend to hold out?”
Her movements grew increasingly forceful. The little mute’s neck flushed red, and choked gasps began to escape from his nostrils.
Zhao Rongzhang recalled the earlier events—how he had remained stiff, hiding behind her, unable to subside no matter what, in such a state…
Lewd. She casually remarked, offering a malicious evaluation. The little mute, however, was in agony, his body trembling slightly, his face flushing once more with the same blush from when she had pressed him down to take him into her mouth. He desperately needed support but dared not move recklessly, much less lean against her. Instead, he hung his head, panting heavily. What was already too full to be grasped in one hand not only failed to return to normal as he had hoped but instead confirmed her assessment, swelling excitedly to fill her palm.
Zhao Rongzhang suddenly felt the lamp was superfluous, needlessly occupying one of her hands. His reactions were far too tantalizing, making her want to torment him completely.
Why not. Zhao Rongzhang blew out the lamp in his hand and casually tossed it aside. The bronze lamp tray clattered down the wooden steps, plunging the corner behind the curtain back into darkness. Guan Xuan felt a soft arm wrap gently around his waist from behind. The proud, upturned curve was not spared either. Thus embraced and grasped, he was forced to retreat step by step by the princess’s toes in the chaos.