The breeze that swept through the Qingxiu Pavilion brought a quiet sense of order as Zhen returned, flanked by his right-hand man, Wei Lin. Wei had been by his side for years, an unwavering figure as loyal as the shadows themselves.
Wei Lin stopped just behind Zhen, his dark gaze assessing. "Shall we head to the study, Your Highness? There are reports from the shadow guards."
Zhen gave a slight nod, gesturing for Wei to follow as they made their way to his private office. The pavilion's halls were dimly lit, the air filled with the scent of cedarwood and ink—a reminder of his sanctuary within the palace grounds. Though many believed he was a recluse or sickly, Zhen was constantly preparing, strengthening his hold over those who mattered in the empire and building a discreet web of influence.
Upon reaching the office, Zhen settled into his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as he waited. Wei Lin stood beside him, ready to brief him.
Not long after, a young man clad in dark robes entered, bowing deeply. This was Xu Jian, the leader of his shadow guards, a master of gathering intelligence and maneuvering in secrecy.
"Your Highness," Xu Jian began, his voice low but steady, "I have news from the northern territories. We've received word that the second prince's supporters are amassing supplies discreetly. It seems they're preparing for… contingencies."
Zhen's eyes narrowed, a chill settling in his gaze. "And what of their contact with the foreign emissaries? Have they strengthened any alliances?"
Xu Jian nodded grimly. "They have. We believe Prince Hanyu's influence is growing, albeit quietly."
Wei Lin interjected. "Your Highness, should we intervene? If the second prince continues his schemes unchecked…"
"No." Zhen's tone was absolute. "For now, we watch and wait. Let Hanyu dig his own grave. When the time comes, we'll ensure he meets his fate."
The guards exchanged looks, each sensing the dark determination in their master's words.
Just as they were about to delve into the next report, another figure entered the room—a tall, striking woman dressed in a fitted soldier's attire, a rare sight for a female guard. This was Bai Min, Zhen's trusted female guard, fierce and astute.
Bai Min stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness, I have news regarding Lady Yueying."
At the mention of Yueying, Zhen's expression turned unreadable, but a subtle hint of annoyance flitted across his gaze. He had brought Yueying into the pavilion out of obligation—her father had saved his life, and his honor demanded he offer her protection. But Yueying had mistaken his kindness for something more, becoming an unwanted presence.
Bai Min continued, her voice level. "She has been… presumptuous, my lord. She seems to believe her place here is more permanent than it is. The servants and guards—" She hesitated, but only briefly. "They regard her lightly. They understand she is not… Lady Yanli."
At the mention of Yanli, Zhen's gaze softened, though his expression remained calm.
"Continue, Bai Min."
"She spends her days idling about the pavilion, often asking the servants about Lady Yanli, even insisting on hearing stories of her." Bai Min glanced at Zhen, then added, "She brought soup today and intends to bring it to you herself, hoping… well, she has certain ambitions, Your Highness."
Zhen sighed, the lines of his jaw tightening. "She is mistaken. Bring her here."
Bai Min bowed, stepping backward and exiting swiftly. In the quiet that followed, Wei Lin leaned in slightly, an eyebrow raised. "Your Highness, if I may speak candidly… this arrangement is… uncomfortable for all involved."
Zhen nodded, casting a glance at Wei Lin. "I'm aware, Wei. It was a debt I owed her father, but Yueying has misunderstood her place. It's time to make things clear."
Moments later, the doors opened again, and Yueying entered, her face lit with an almost nervous eagerness. She carried a tray with a delicate porcelain bowl of steaming soup, her steps graceful, but her intent obvious.
"Your Highness," she said softly, her voice holding a hopeful lilt. "I thought you might appreciate something warm. I made this soup myself."
Zhen remained silent, his gaze impassive as she set the tray before him. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to read his expression.
"I noticed you've been… working late, Your Highness," she ventured, lowering her gaze shyly. "I only thought… you might need someone by your side."
Zhen glanced at Wei Lin and Xu Jian, who were both watching with thinly veiled disapproval, though their expressions remained respectful.
After a moment, Zhen spoke, his voice as cold as steel. "Yueying, I appreciate your father's sacrifice and have fulfilled my promise to him by bringing you here. But this does not entitle you to a position that has not been offered."
Yueying's face paled. She glanced from Zhen to the others in the room, her hands trembling slightly. "Your Highness, I—" she stammered, struggling for words. "I thought… I only wanted to prove myself worthy."
"Worthy?" Zhen's voice held a faint edge of incredulity. He glanced at the soup, untouched. "You were given protection, a room, and care within these walls out of respect for your father. But do not mistake this kindness as a right to overstep your boundaries."
The silence was thick, tension heavy in the air. Wei Lin cleared his throat, glancing at Yueying with a look that held both pity and disapproval.
"It is common knowledge," Wei Lin interjected, his tone measured, "that there is only one who holds His Highness's favor. And she is not you, Lady Yueying."
Yueying's eyes filled with hurt, her lips pressed into a trembling line. "But… the servants… they gossip, they laugh… They say I am nothing here."
Bai Min, who had quietly re-entered, spoke up with a bluntness that startled Yueying. "Lady Yueying, it is not their fault they speak the truth. His Highness's heart has never wavered, and it has always belonged to another."
The finality in Bai Min's words struck Yueying visibly, but she took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I… I see," she whispered, her eyes casting downward in defeat. After a pause, she looked up again, her face a mixture of sorrow and bitterness.
"Then who is she, this Lady Yanli?" Yueying demanded, her voice shaking. "Is she so remarkable that no other woman is fit to be by your side?"
Zhen's gaze turned to steel. "You dare question her place in my life?"
The room fell into an intense silence. Yueying, realizing her misstep, took a step back, panic flashing in her eyes. "Forgive me, Your Highness… I—"
Zhen's voice cut through her words like a blade. "Lady Yanli is worth far more than any title or role you might wish for. She is irreplaceable, beyond what you could hope to understand. Your position here will remain as it is, Yueying, but nothing more."
Yueying's shoulders slumped, the weight of rejection settling heavily on her. She managed a slight nod before gathering the tray with unsteady hands.
"I… I understand, Your Highness." Her voice was barely a whisper as she backed away, leaving the room with her hopes shattered.
After she exited, Wei Lin sighed. "It was necessary, Your Highness. She would only have grown more presumptuous."
Zhen nodded, his gaze lingering on the door through which Yueying had exited. "It's better she knows the truth now."
Xu Jian, his expression unreadable, added, "If I may, Your Highness… It is obvious to all in the pavilion who the rightful madam should be. Perhaps it is time that truth becomes known to others as well."
Zhen allowed himself a faint smile, his mind already on the one woman who truly held his heart. Yanli had been the source of his strength, his weakness, his obsession. And as much as he tried to deny it, he knew he would do anything to make her his.
"Not yet," he replied, though his voice softened. "But soon."