Chapter 72: Either Way, He Wanted Her to Leave
The moon terrace of Yilan Hall stood empty. Walking from the long corridor around the terrace to the main hall, the palace servants inside had long prepared to welcome her, but they saw that Lan Wu, who had just returned, did not look well.
One by one, they unconsciously restrained their expressions.
Lan Wu had a headache, not only from drinking but also because of the matter at Zhaoyun Hall.
She had stationed people at Zhaoyun Hall so that any news could be relayed quickly. Even if Consort Rou truly intended to die, she must survive past today.
“Your Highness, would you like to bathe and freshen up first?” a palace servant entered the hall to ask her.
Lan Wu glanced at the sky and said yes.
Yilan Hall was too large, and His Majesty had specifically ordered the hall to be well arranged. Those entering the hall for the first time would likely not know where to go. Thinking of this, Mujin was about to step forward to guide her, but she saw that Lan Wu seemed familiar with the place and entered the inner palace on her own.
Mujin was puzzled but assumed it was a coincidence. Just as she was about to enter the hall to serve, someone came in from outside.
Lian Qiao looked at Mujin and frowned at her. “Her Highness did not ask you to serve in the hall.”
Mujin calmly glanced at her and said, “Her Highness just said she wanted to bathe.”
With that, she left the main hall.
Lian Qiao scoffed lightly and carried the hangover soup inside.
Upon entering the inner palace, she immediately saw Her Highness removing her ornate hairpin herself and hurried forward, insisting she do it instead.
“Your Highness, please drink the hangover soup first. Sister Lian Xi said you were drunk when you returned. Fortunately, I prepared this hangover soup early.”
“Your Highness, Yilan Hall has its own small kitchen. From now on, it will be much quicker when you want to eat pastries. Yushan Fang is so far away, and the food arrives cold.”
Lian Qiao was just a bit lively by nature. Though spirited, she was also attentive. Knowing that Lan Wu was not in high spirits, she deliberately said these things to cheer her up.
After finishing the hangover soup, Lan Wu listened to her words and slowly turned her gaze to the crabapple flower hairpin on the table. She picked it up by one end and gently swayed it. “Yes, Yilan Hall is indeed spacious.”
It wasn’t just about having a small kitchen.
Lian Qiao loosened her hair bun, and a palace servant outside announced that the hot water was ready.
From the time she left Zhaoyun Hall until now, it was estimated to be less than half an hour, and no news had arrived yet.
As she entered the water, Lan Wu removed the thumb ring from her hand. Wearing it for one day today was enough.
Thinking of Chu Mingheng, Lan Wu couldn’t help but slap the water fiercely, splashing droplets onto the edge of the bathing pool.
Lian Qiao, who was massaging her shoulders, froze, not daring to move.
Lan Wu quickly calmed down and asked her to leave first.
The water in the pool was warm and comfortable, flowing around her body. She closed her eyes and leaned gently against the edge of the pool, feeling drowsy.
But she couldn’t actually fall asleep.
If she didn’t sleep, she could only think about what had happened earlier.
She recalled how Chu Mingheng had shown her fireworks today, allowing her to speak nonsense. Then she thought of what he had said earlier at Zhaoyun Hall, telling her to return to the palace first…
Lan Wu lowered her head, thinking she didn’t care much. But as she looked at her reflection in the water, swaying gently with the ripples—unclear yet revealing a face full of grievance—her eyes reddened.
Before she could fully gather her thoughts, the door to the bathing hall behind her was pushed open. Familiar footsteps slowly approached, stopping just a few steps behind her.
Lan Wu turned around, hastily wiping her cheeks. As she looked up and met Chu Mingheng’s face, tears welled up in her eyes. Angry and aggrieved, she met his gaze.
“You… why did you come back? Didn’t you say… you were going to the Imperial Study?”
Lan Wu was crying, unable to hold back her sobs, her words broken and fragmented, looking utterly pitiful.
“So aggrieved?” Chu Mingheng bent down to lift her out of the pool, but Lan Wu pushed his hand away and retreated further.
Lan Wu moved to the center of the pool, where Chu Mingheng couldn’t reach her without entering the water.
“Ah Wu,” he called out to her, “if you don’t come over, I won’t explain anything to you.”
Lan Wu pressed her lips together and said, “Anyway, you told me to leave…”
He knew it—without clarifying this, Lan Wu wouldn’t let it go. Who knew what she had been thinking after returning alone? Today was her birthday banquet, yet it had brought her no joy at all.
And now she was crying.
“Ah Wu, come here. I’ll explain properly—I’m not sending you away.” He reached out toward Lan Wu, his tone gentle, his gaze fixed on her. If she still refused, he would have to step into the water to fetch her.
Fortunately, Lan Wu relented.
Her damp fingers touched his palm, and he grasped them firmly, pulling her out of the water with a gentle tug.
He turned and carried her toward the Inner Palace.
“I can’t even call you over now? And you hide from me?” Chu Mingheng placed her on the bed, turned her over, and gave her a firm spank.
Lan Wu was completely unclothed, making the sound of the spank especially sharp. Realizing she had been tricked, she cried out in shame and indignation, on the verge of sobbing again.
But soon, Chu Mingheng used a clean cloth to dry the water droplets from her body. Only after she had calmed down did he speak: “I wasn’t sending you away. It’s just that there are some unclean things in that hall, and I didn’t want you to go inside.”
At these words, Lan Wu nearly forgot to struggle.
Her throat felt as if something were blocking it, rendering her speechless. Startled, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but glance at the dark sky outside the hall. Clutching Chu Mingheng’s robes, she anxiously asked, “Is… is there a ghost in her hall?”
If he said it was unclean, what else could it be but ghosts or monsters?
Lan Wu hadn’t been one to believe in such tales of ghosts and gods, but since she had died and come back to life, who could say for sure whether they existed or not? Perhaps some deity had taken pity on her unjust death and granted her this second chance.
So when Chu Mingheng mentioned “unclean,” she immediately thought of ghosts—and felt a twinge of fear. Consort Rou, that woman—outwardly gentle and magnanimous, but inwardly petty and malicious. She had blood on her hands, so it wouldn’t be surprising if her palace was haunted.
Chu Mingheng watched as she practically burrowed into his embrace. Just moments ago in the water, she had been avoiding him, but now that she was scared, she knew to seek refuge.
Yet he was pleased to see it.
“What ghost? Don’t talk nonsense.” Chu Mingheng pinched her cheek, tossed aside the cloth he had used to dry her, and wrapped her in a blanket.
It was midsummer, and although the blanket was thin, it didn’t take long for her to feel warm—especially since Lan Wu’s hair was still damp.
“Sit still. I’ll fetch a towel to dry your hair.”
Lan Wu knelt on the bed, her eyes fixed on Chu Mingheng as he walked to the side chamber. Soon, he returned with a clean towel.
But when Chu Mingheng reached out to touch her, Lan Wu visibly flinched away again.
Her voice was slightly hoarse, carrying a tone of reluctance as she murmured, “If it’s not a ghost, then what is it? Your Majesty promised to explain it to this concubine. Are you just fooling me again?”
“It’s not a ghost, it’s something.” Chu Mingheng spoke casually, holding a cloth in his hand as his gaze slowly lowered, settling on Lan Wu’s disheveled dark hair.
If he couldn’t catch Lan Wu by the poolside, could he still fail to catch her on the bed?
He reached out, hooked his arm around Lan Wu’s waist, and pulled her forward a short distance. The cloth in his hand naturally fell over her head as he began to dry her hair.