Chapter 1: Secret Edict

Blue waters startled by autumn, yellow clouds gathering at dusk.

Late-autumn sunlight streamed through the lattice window, falling across Yan Ling’s sleeping profile, gilding her dark lashes with a faint sheen of gold.
Her side profile was exquisitely beautiful, milky-white wide sleeves draped loosely as her slender body leaned over the writing desk, like a lazy little rabbit.

With a loud bang, the stack of books she had piled up collapsed all at once.
The imperial princes and sons of noble families who had been listening attentively to the lecture all turned their gazes toward her.

Yan Ling jolted awake in alarm, her heart pounding as she opened her eyes, squinting slightly as the sunlight outside the window stabbed at them.
The shaoshi’s calm gaze fell upon her, fixed and unyielding.

“Twelve Highness, did you sleep well?”
The low yet clear voice shattered her daze, and her heart skipped as she met the shaoshi’s mocking eyes.

That man was upright and reserved, dignified and noble, with the bearing of a pine and the grace of a crane.
Dressed in a plain white, wide-sleeved robe, he exuded effortless elegance.
His brows and eyes were sparse and cold, as if holding within them snow that never melted all year round.

The shaoshi responsible for instructing them was the current Minister of the Left, the youngest head of the Xie clan of Chen Prefecture—Xie Chongqing.

The Xie clan of Chen Prefecture had produced ministers and nobles for generations, their caps and robes unbroken for over a century.
After the Langya Wang clan grew distant from the imperial house, the Xie clan, together with the newly risen Yu and Huan clans, formed a tripod balance of power.

His teaching was strict, and compared to the Grand Tutor, he was far more difficult to fool.

Yan Ling had been singled out and criticized by him countless times in the past.

“I… stayed up too late revising last night…” she explained weakly, her face pale.

“Your Highness should find a more reasonable excuse.”
Xie Chongqing interrupted her impatiently, passing judgment as he always did.

Yan Ling bit her lip and lowered her head, fingers clenching tightly around the book before her.
Again.
No matter what she said, he never believed her.

But she truly had been revising, hoping to take first place in the assessment a few days from now.

“That concludes today’s lesson.”
“Later, Your Highnesses may change and proceed to the grasslands for hunting.”
“The number of prey obtained will also be included in the assessment.”

Xie Chongqing announced the decision lightly.

Yan Ling’s heart sank.
She had a weak constitution and was never skilled in riding or archery.
If she competed directly with the other princes, she would surely lose.

Then there would be no chance of taking first place.

The chill of late autumn seeped into their limbs.
The sons of noble families and the imperial princes rode through the forest, sleeves fluttering.
Several spirited horses galloped between the trees as arrows tore through the air, brushing past branches and setting off soft rustling sounds.

Yan Ling and Fu Li set numerous traps in the forest to catch prey.

Since she could not win with skill, she would make up for it with quantity and ensure she did not fall behind.

About an hour later, everyone returned to the grassland by the tents, drenched in sweat and dragging their catches behind them.
Xie Chongqing began counting.

The other princes and noble youths had deer, wild boar, and sheep.
When it came to Yan Ling—
A nest of rabbits and field mice.

Xie Chongqing’s gaze swept over them briefly.
“Unqualified.”

Yan Ling’s eyes flew wide open as indignation surged within her.
“Why?”

“Hunting means hunting.”
“What the assessment tests is archery.”
“Your Highness slacks off like this and still expects to pass?”
“There is no His Majesty here, and no one will indulge or favor Your Highness.”

His tone was crisp and merciless.

Yan Ling clenched her fists.
Her eyes—so vivid and lively they defied description—glared at him.
Bright eyes, snow-pale skin, full crimson lips, delicate and peerlessly beautiful.
Sweat-dampened strands of hair clung to her temples.

Sparse snickers sounded from nearby.

All her careful effort was dismissed just like that.
Yan Ling felt an indescribable ache and resentment.

She was the lofty Twelfth Highness.
Even her imperial father had never treated her this harshly.
Yet Xie Chongqing did.

“If Your Highness continues to slack off,”
“you may request His Majesty to exempt you from your studies altogether.”

When she was younger, she had already noticed Xie Chongqing’s prejudice against her.
She did everything just as well as everyone else—sometimes even better.
Yet he never once praised her, only found faults and reprimanded her.

Among the princes were those hopeless at poetry and prose, and those utterly ignorant of music.
None of them were subjected to such harsh demands as she was.

When she was little, she could still tell herself that perhaps he was being strict for her own good.

But now, Yan Ling’s stubborn gaze seemed ready to pierce straight through him.

Because of him, even the sons of noble families disdained to associate with her.

Yan Yi could not help but speak up for his younger sibling.
“A-Ling isn’t good at riding and archery. This was a last resort—”

“Being unskilled is not a reason to exploit loopholes.”
Xie Chongqing cast her a faint glance.
The sharpness of his words and eyes made her heart feel even more constricted.

“Brother, stop.”
She tugged at Yan Yi, for the first time finding his “good intentions” difficult to bear.

She knew Xie Chongqing disliked her.
He served Prince Hui.
And she just happened to be the thorn in Prince Hui’s eye.

Her imperial father once told her that when her mother was eight months pregnant with her, a high monk had prophesied that she would be sickly her entire life and would not live past eighteen.

Her father flew into a rage and ordered the demon monk executed on the spot.
The monk said that if she wished to live, there was only one way—
She must abandon her female body and appear before the world as a male until she safely passed the fated year.

By cruel coincidence, her mother went into premature labor while giving birth to her.
Not only that, she nearly died at birth.

At the time, mysticism was already in vogue.
Her father believed it.
He immediately announced to the world that she was the Twelfth Prince.
Sure enough, her health gradually improved, and thereafter she grew up safely, like any ordinary child.

For sixteen years, her father had protected her well.
Aside from her deceased mother and the trusted confidants arranged for her, no one knew her true identity.

Her biological elder brother was rather thick-headed.
Otherwise, living together day after day, it would have been impossible to conceal the truth.

As for Prince Hui, he had never gotten along with them since childhood.
He was the legitimate son of the Empress, backed by the Huan clan of Longkang, whose clan head was the current Grand Marshal.

Meanwhile, the previous head of her maternal Langya Wang clan had harbored rebellious intentions, raising troops and plotting to seize the throne.
Yan Ling’s mother severed all ties with her natal family and stubbornly chose to protect the emperor.

In the end, the Wang clan was jointly suppressed by the noble families.
From then on, Yan Ling and her brother were also estranged from the Wang clan.

After the crowd dispersed, Yan Yi’s guard ran over, panting and bracing himself on his knees.
“Eighth Highness, Twelfth Highness—His Majesty became overexcited while hunting a tiger in the forest and was separated from the 羽林 Guards.”
“When he was found again… he had already been gravely injured by a white tiger and was coughing blood.”

Yan Ling felt as if she had fallen into an icy abyss.
She demanded urgently, “What did you say? How is Father Emperor now?”

“The physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau have already gone.”

Before the words were even finished, Yan Ling bolted toward Yan Ying Hall.
Her wide sleeves whipped violently in the wind, her figure so slight it seemed she might be carried away by it.
Yan Yi and Fu Li hurried after her.

Outside Yan Ying Hall, the princes were already kneeling in wait.
A heavy, mournful stillness shrouded the majestic ancient palace.
Yan Ling rushed up the steps and was about to force her way inside.

Minister of the Household Wang Chi stopped her.
“Your Highness, please stop.”
“No one may enter or leave Yan Ying Hall at present.”

Her expression was panicked and at a loss, clearly flustered.
Wang Chi was distantly related to Yan Ling and could not help lowering his voice.
“Your Highness, calm yourself.”

Prince Hui scolded coldly, “Insolence.”
“Twelfth Brother truly knows no bounds.”
“This is Father Emperor’s order—no prince may enter.”
“Does Twelfth Brother intend to defy the imperial decree?”

Her elder brother, who arrived afterward, glanced at him and cautiously stepped forward to pull Yan Ling to the back.
“Calm down, calm down.”

Yan Ling took a deep breath, her eyes faintly reddened, and knelt on the icy stone tiles.

Wang Chi swept his gaze over the princes and princesses.
Their expressions varied, and those who were truly sincere were few indeed.

They knelt for a long time.
They knelt until the sun sank halfway down the mountains, light slanting across the backs of geese in flight.

A steady set of footsteps sounded from the steps.
Wang Chi immediately bowed respectfully.
“Minister.”

Yan Ling lifted her head and saw Xie Chongqing enter Yan Ying Hall.
Before the doors slowly closed, she strained to crane her neck, trying to glimpse the situation inside.

After another long, agonizing wait, night fell.
The doors of Yan Ying Hall opened once more.
Xie Chongqing stood at the entrance, his expression indifferent.
“His Majesty commands that all princes withdraw.”
“The Twelfth Prince is to enter the hall and attend him.”

Yan Ling’s eyes lit up.
She hurriedly rose and went inside.

Prince Hui’s expression darkened as he watched her retreating figure.
The father emperor he revered was always so biased.
How could he possibly swallow this resentment?

“Shaoshi, how is Father Emperor?”
He stepped to Xie Chongqing’s side and asked.

“There is no immediate danger to his life.”

“Did he reveal any intention regarding the heir?”

Xie Chongqing looked at the legitimate son, his tone calm and neither servile nor overbearing.
“No.”

Yan Ling entered the hall.
The smell of medicine stung her eyes as she rushed to the bedside, unable to hold back her sobs.
“Father Emperor.”

Emperor Yonghe was just past forty.
Hearing her voice, he opened his eyes, fatigue evident in them, yet his expression was gentle.
“Xueci has come.”

Xueci was her childhood name.
Only her father called her that.

She leaned her head lightly into Emperor Yonghe’s arm.
“Father Emperor, please recover quickly.”
“You promised you would personally teach me how to hunt.”

Crystal tears rolled down her clear, delicate cheeks.
Her eyes were like glass beads stained with crimson.

Emperor Yonghe coughed heavily twice.
He blamed his own recklessness.
That white tiger had clearly been struck by several of his arrows.
Yet for some reason it went berserk.
Most likely, the beast’s imminent death had triggered a desperate will to survive, and it injured him instead.

His chest ached as if struck by a heavy hammer.
Yet what he could not let go of most was the child he had with the woman he loved.

Emperor Yonghe looked at the daughter before him with complicated eyes.
That fleeting guilt for having used her vanished in an instant.

“Xueci, help me sit up.”

He struggled to prop himself up.
Yan Ling hurried to support him.
The hall was not devoid of attendants.
The eunuch Liu Jian, Emperor Yonghe’s trusted personal aide, was there, along with several physicians drafting prescriptions.

At the moment of contact, Emperor Yonghe calmly slipped a small box into her sleeve at an angle hidden from others.
Yan Ling froze slightly and met her father’s gaze.

“Your elder brother is not as steady as you.”
“In both mind and temperament, he is like a child.”
“Watch over him more.”

Emperor Yonghe instructed her like an ordinary father.
Yan Ling nodded through tear-filled eyes.

This temporary palace was likely riddled with the eyes and ears of the noble families.
She clenched her sleeve tightly.
“I understand, Father Emperor.”
“Though Elder Brother is somewhat frivolous, he still knows what matters most.”

Emperor Yonghe nodded, then bent over and coughed heavily again.
Yan Ling patted his back and fed him medicine, her face full of worry.

“Liu Jian, see the Twelfth out.”

Yan Ling left with frequent backward glances, reluctant to part.
Only after stepping outside did the stifling heat dissipate.
The cool air rushing toward her forced her to calm down.

She could not help touching the object hidden in her sleeve, faintly guessing what it might be.

“Your Highness.”

She had been walking with her head down and had not noticed anyone ahead.
Only when the person spoke did she look up, her heart immediately skipping a beat.

Xie Chongqing was a head taller than her.
His refined brows and eyes reflected the flowing light of the palace lanterns.
When he looked down at her, a faint chill enveloped her, making her scalp prickle for no reason.

“Shaoshi hasn’t left yet?” she asked politely, forcing down her nerves.

“Given tonight’s circumstances, I cannot leave.”

With the Grand Marshal Huan Zhou campaigning outside, all court affairs were currently handled entirely by Xie Chongqing.
Countless officials from the great noble clans filled the court, forming an intricate web of interwoven interests, checking and supporting one another.

And the Yan imperial house was nothing more than a puppet on the surface.

“Shaoshi works tirelessly for the state. Yan Ling greatly admires you.”
“It is late. I will take my leave first.”
“Father Emperor will trouble Shaoshi with his care.”

She spoke perfunctorily, striving to maintain an appearance of reluctant departure.

“Your Highness.”
Xie Chongqing stopped her.

Yan Ling’s expression remained neutral, but cold sweat had already broken out on her back.
Xie Chongqing appeared lofty and aloof, yet in truth he was unpredictable and unfathomable.

Power-wielding noble families like his were all deeply suspicious by nature.

Xie Chongqing raised his hand and adjusted the collar of her cloak.
“How did I teach Your Highness before?”
“Posture dignified, attire proper—only then will the officials be respectful.”

He fastened the ties for her.
His broad hand was strikingly beautiful, long and jade-like, with distinct joints.
Yan Ling was even afraid that his hand could sense her violently pounding heartbeat through the air.

Once the ties were secured, his hand moved downward, nearing her sleeve cuff.

Yan Ling’s heart leapt into her throat, its pounding nearly bursting from her chest.

“No matter how worried Your Highness is about His Majesty, you must still mind your bearing.”
“There are so many ministers watching outside.”

His voice was like a death-summoning talisman, his movements leaving no room for refusal.

Had he discovered it?
They had never been this close before.

Xie Chongqing’s gaze fell inadvertently on her earlobe.
Porcelain-white, small and round, exquisitely shaped.
At its center seemed to be a tiny crimson mole, stunning and bewitching.

For a man to bear such an alluring mark.