The Prince of Jing gathering court officials to petition was entirely unexpected.

Not to mention that just a few days ago, the Prince of Jing was still in a "deceased" state. Even the forty-ninth day of mourning had passed, yet he suddenly resurrected, crawling out of his coffin. He claimed to have wandered the underworld due to his lifespan having reached its end, but was granted leniency by King Yan and King Chujiang, allowing his soul to return to the mortal world in order to bless the golden union of his daughter and Chen Yi.

During this forty-nine-day mourning period, officials came to pay their respects daily in droves. Whether or not others believed this claim, most of the mourning officials seemed to accept it.

Even if they did not believe it, no one dared to question it aloud. The connections between the Prince Mansion and the Ding'an faction were an open secret. So whether true or not, it wouldn't be long before the tale of the Prince's resurrection became a celebrated story, recorded in books like the "Records of Divine Seeking" and "Strange Tales," marked with the phrase "a marvel of its age."

Empress An naturally knew that the Prince of Jing had likely faked his death. His move to gather the court officials was unexpected, but not unreasonable. Yet, she didn't take it seriously; this attempt seemed less a calculated risk and more like a desperate gamble.

Therefore, even as a crowd of officials knelt outside the imperial hall, collectively petitioning with loud voices, the Empress An didn't even step out of her palanquin, observing instead from afar as though she were watching a troupe of monkeys.

She dispatched a court lady to inquire about the situation. Many members of the Ding'an faction painted extravagant tales, some even swearing they'd seen King Chujiang. It was only after questioning a straightforward and honest junior official that the truth emerged.

"At the time, many people were watching. The Prince crawled out of the coffin, lamenting life's great regrets and repeatedly mentioning Chen Qianhu. He declared that the man was no decent son-in-law, listing dozens of his faults. But his word was law—he insisted on blessing their golden union, and so he would."

"I didn't know how to react, so I asked: 'Prince, weren't you dead?'

The Prince replied, 'I don't like him. Can't I come back to life just because of that?'"

After several court ladies reported back, Empress An saw the farce even more clearly.

Yet, clear as it was, the Capital City valued decorum, and the court was even more obsessed with appearances. Empress An dictated an edict, which palace maids and eunuchs transcribed and disseminated as a temporary explanation, before returning to the palace.

Then,

she saw Dong Gong Ruoshu hidden beneath the bed.

"Where are they?"

Court lady Suxin's face was pale, dripping with cold sweat, her voice trembling uncontrollably,

"Where are they?!"

The woman's face, framed by her phoenix robes, was shrouded in shadow. Within the chamber were a toppled red bridal veil, finished dumplings, and drained nuptial wine—all evidence of Chen Yi, yet the man himself was nowhere to be seen.

Feng Rong's expression was inscrutable.

Dong Gong Ruoshu's acupoints were quickly unsealed, and the young servant girl Xiaochan—after likewise being freed—knelt trembling on the ground.

Under the court lady's probing, Dong Gong Ruoshu hastily recounted the events.

"You're saying… after they left, they even told you, 'Goodbye, Miss Donggong'? Where did they go?"

"...Probably out of the palace. They said they were heading east."

"Fools. That was deliberately meant for you to hear." The words struck Dong Gong Ruoshu like an icy plunge. It was the first time the Empress Dowager had spoken so harshly to her. "The entire palace is sealed. There's no way they could have left."

Dong Gong Ruoshu mumbled timidly, "P-Perhaps."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because they told me to pass something along to Your Majesty…" Dong Gong Ruoshu inhaled deeply before continuing: "'Your Majesty, thank you for your kindness. I purposely had the Prince of Jing distract you.'"

As the words fell, Empress An's thoughts raced, as if seeing that man standing before her.

Smiling faintly, he watched her.

"What does this mean?" The phoenix-robed woman's eyes glinted coldly like a sword. "The Prince of Jing coordinated with you?"

"No, the Prince merely appeared to cooperate with me."

"Then I would bring you into the palace..."

"And then you would bring me into the palace."

"Why were you so certain?"

"Because you sent so many spies to guard me, I nearly escaped,"

It was as if Empress An could hear his voice:

"When you realize you can't control me anymore, you'll want to keep me under your nose."

And then...

he escaped right under her nose.

The collaboration with the Prince Mansion was just a smokescreen!

From the very beginning, his goal had been to enter the palace!

......…

"Dong Guifei just transferred a few new palace maids to her quarters."

A trembling palace maid they met on the way knelt and reported after seeing Dong Guifei.

Court lady Suxin's face turned livid as she said:

"In the festive season, and this not being the time for selecting court maidens, where could these 'new palace maids' come from?"

She appeared deeply agitated, almost furious, but sweat streamed relentlessly down her forehead.

This was because Empress An listened silently, her face devoid of expression.

She spoke softly: "There's no need to get angry at a palace maid. Just search for Dong Guifei."

"Yes..."

Court lady Suxin bowed so deeply her forehead nearly touched the floor.

............…

After sending those people away, Dong Guifei turned her head to glance back at the desolate courtyard she had lived in for an unknowable number of years.

The chaotic old branches covering the stone table had finally been trimmed days ago. The yellowing, cracked walls were painted anew. Large red lanterns hung from the eaves, bestowing a semblance of festivity. Even the recent meals delivered had a refinement she had never before known.

But these…likely wouldn't last long.

Dong Guifei gently touched the jubilant couplets. The brushstrokes, firm yet elegant, were written personally by Chen Yi—the last trace left behind by the man who was like a fleeting romance.

"Ah, to call it a memory is too much," she thought.

Dong Guifei bore no lingering sentiments, only a touch of wistfulness.

For aside from him, there would never be another man.

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