Chapter 2: You’re Lying

Lan Wu felt as if the sky were collapsing. Having just been reborn, she naturally wanted nothing to do with Chu Mingheng. Hearing Luo Yun’s words, her face turned deathly pale.

This hadn’t happened in her previous life.

Could it be that the inexplicable glance she exchanged with Chu Mingheng earlier had aroused his suspicion?

Lan Wu pressed down her trembling hands and looked at Luo Yun, a familiar face to her. “Miss Luo Yun, may I ask why His Majesty wishes to see me…”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lan Wu knew she had spoken out of turn. Before her death, she had been a favored imperial concubine in the palace. Though her rank was not high, the servants below had treated her with reverence and respect. Even the chief eunuch in the Imperial Presence had to show her a pleasant face.

But now, she was also a servant. Her question had been somewhat presumptuous.

Sure enough, Luo Yun’s gaze swept over her, but she seemed too indifferent to comment. She merely gestured coldly for Lan Wu to follow.

Lan Wu dared not disobey the imperial command and reluctantly followed her to the rear hall of Taiqing Palace.

The door opened and closed, with Luo Yun and the others waiting outside, leaving Lan Wu alone inside.

There was no telling how long she would have to wait.

Lan Wu was still wearing the dance costume from her performance earlier. In her haste to return to the Music Bureau, she had only draped an outer robe over it. Though it covered most of her exposed skin, in the early spring chill of this long-unoccupied, empty hall, staying too long left her shivering with cold.

As dusk approached, Lan Wu glanced at the empty table in the hall—not even a cup of tea was in sight.

Suppressing the dryness in her throat, she sat at the table facing the side of the hall door, fidgeting restlessly—now rubbing her legs, now pinching her hands.

She pondered many possibilities but could not think of a reason why Chu Mingheng would summon her here today.

In her previous life, even after a year of serving in the Imperial Presence, she had only risen to the rank of Shuyi. Chu Mingheng treated the women of the harem as if raising venomous insects, pitting them against one another. Occasionally, when one side seemed about to prevail, he would intervene with a flick of his finger, allowing the other side to regain momentum.

She had been nothing more than an unintended byproduct of the rivalry between Consort Shu and Consort Rou. At first, they paid her no mind, but as Chu Mingheng grew increasingly fond of her, they gradually turned their attention her way.

Chu Mingheng undoubtedly favored her, treating her not as an insect but forbidding her from harboring any malicious intent within the palace walls.

During her year in the harem, Lan Wu had not been without thoughts of harming others to climb higher. But the moment such ideas sprouted, Chu Mingheng would suppress them. His punishments were severe, leaving her trembling with fear even now at the memory.

He forbade her from doing evil, yet the result was her death in the palace.

That cold-blooded man, Chu Mingheng, probably wouldn’t even avenge her death. Perhaps he would only sigh lightly in regret, and when another beauty appeared before him, he would shower her with affection as usual.

At this thought, Lan Wu gritted her teeth in resentment.

Why should those of lower status be trampled upon? Everyone is human, made of flesh and blood, not beasts. Even beasts know compassion, yet Chu Mingheng was worse than a beast.

Lost in her thoughts, a sudden cool breeze brushed her cheek. A cold, calloused hand gently pinched her face, turning it to the side. The undisguised fury and hatred in her eyes collided directly with the deep, dark pupils of another.

“What are you thinking?” Naturally, the other did not miss the emotions in Lan Wu’s eyes, his low voice carrying a hint of inquiry and displeasure.

Lan Wu was startled by him, her pupils contracting sharply as she abruptly lowered her gaze, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She had deliberately sat facing the side of the hall entrance, waiting to catch sight of anyone entering as soon as possible. Yet Chu Mingheng had already silently approached her side without her noticing.

The cold wind carried the scent of ambergris from another person. Chu Mingheng forbade her from burning incense in the hall, yet he often held her close. Over time, her own body frequently carried this cold, solemn fragrance tinged with imperial authority.

Lan Wu slightly parted her lips, her legs giving way as she abruptly knelt from the chair. Her knees struck the ground, but the sound was not loud—she had intentionally spared herself undue suffering, a skill honed in her previous life.

“Your humble servant Lan Wu greets Your Majesty. May Your Majesty enjoy boundless fortune and peace.”

In truth, she need not have been so afraid of Chu Mingheng, for it was not he who had killed her in her past life. Yet she feared that Chu Mingheng might take a liking to her, leading her down the same path as before. And she knew well that Chu Mingheng would not protect her—perhaps her standing in his heart was not yet sufficient.

Chu Mingheng withdrew his hand, his wide sleeve brushing past Lan Wu’s line of sight. She watched as he walked to the main seat and sat down. Soon after, palace attendants entered from outside to serve tea.

Once the attendants had withdrawn from the hall, Chu Mingheng leisurely lifted the lid of his teacup. He no longer glanced at Lan Wu, acting as if she were not there at all.

Having followed him for a year, Lan Wu could somewhat discern his temperament. After a brief thought, she realized what was amiss.

She had not yet answered.

Earlier, Chu Mingheng had asked a question. If she failed to reply, she feared her knees would be worn to shreds from kneeling here today.

“Your Majesty, please forgive this servant. I was just now lost in thought about leaving the palace, so absorbed that I failed to notice Your Majesty’s arrival. I am guilty and beg for Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

With that, Lan Wu lowered her head and pressed her forehead against the cold floor in a bow.

The man in the main seat let his tea cool, his tone rising with indifference: “Oh? Is that so.”

Lan Wu kept her head bowed. Her outer garment was still insufficient, covering only her shoulders. As her movements were slightly exaggerated, the clothing at her chest loosened slightly, revealing the thin fabric of her dance attire.

She firmly insisted it was so, her words also probing Chu Mingheng’s intentions:

“This servant has heard that if one receives a master’s favor, they may leave the palace early. I was thinking about how to earn such favor, and realizing I might never receive a single act of grace in my lifetime, I couldn’t help but feel sorrowful… I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness…”

Chu Mingheng looked at her for a moment before suddenly speaking, instructing her to come closer.

A chill ran down Lan Wu’s spine—the tone felt somewhat familiar. Her mind moved faster than her body, and she instinctively knelt and shuffled toward Chu Mingheng on her knees.

But she hadn’t considered that this was not her Yilan Hall, and the floor was not covered with soft carpets. After just two steps of kneeling and shuffling, her knees quickly began to ache from the friction.

A hint of moisture welled in her eyes but soon receded.

Even as she moved before Chu Mingheng, Lan Wu remained uneasy.

“Your Majesty, this servant—”

Before she could finish, a slender neck was gently caressed. The hand was icy cold, its surface bearing thin calluses. When it touched her skin, she was startled yet dared not move.

“You are lying to me.” Chu Mingheng’s voice was as light as a ghost’s, his tone carrying a hint of inexplicable regret.

Lan Wu’s mind raced—how could she not realize the situation was off? She quickly turned her head, exposing her slender neck, allowing Chu Mingheng to reach out and touch it freely. Yet her words were filled with grievance and fear: “This servant knows her mistake. This servant indeed did not speak the truth.”

“Today, after this servant danced before the Imperial Presence and returned to the hall, I heard those around me say that the palace ladies could not stand the sight of… of servants like me… This servant was worried and afraid, so I dared not voice my anger.”

Of course, this was not the truth either.