Gao Yuexing instinctively felt disdain and silently muttered to herself—”Like hell it does!”
Yet, Li Fuqiu, seemingly unaware, asked, “That person you saw in the Xiaonan Pavilion that night, did he bully you?”
This unexpected concern carried a hint of wanting to turn hostility into friendship.
When people are immersed in extreme emotions of hatred or affection, it’s not easy for them to change.
Gao Yuexing had always felt that Li Fuqiu’s hatred for her was utterly baffling. They had no past grudges nor recent conflicts, yet upon their first meeting, he acted as though they were bitter enemies, leaving her puzzled as if they had some unresolved blood feud.
It wasn’t that serious at all.
Gradually, Gao Yuexing came to understand that Li Fuqiu didn’t truly hate her.
He simply enjoyed bullying her.
It was just finding fault for no reason.
Occasionally, when he wasn’t bullying her or nitpicking, Li Fuqiu could even utter a few humane sentences—“Stay close to me tonight. Be careful not to let him grab you again.”
Gao Yuexing turned her head to glance at him and straightforwardly asked, “Are you going to see that woman? Who is she? What is she to you?”
Li Fuqiu responded, “You’re being presumptuous.”
As an adult, Gao Yuexing approached matters with a very clear logic. Each of her questions struck Li Fuqiu right where it hurt.
Of course, Li Fuqiu wouldn’t easily reveal his secrets to anyone.
Since Gao Yuexing didn’t get an answer, she stopped pursuing the matter.
The Xiaonan Pavilion was now within sight.
Although she had been here many times before, the desolation and ruin of this place still stirred a sense of unease in her.
Gao Yuexing paused in her steps.
Li Fuqiu noticed she wasn’t following and turned back. “Why are you standing there? Are you scared?”
Seeing Gao Yuexing remain silent, he assumed she was truly frightened and added, “If you’re scared, go back. Don’t act tough.”
Gao Yuexing ignored him.
She stood at a spot flanked by high palace walls on both sides. The alleyway for walking was barely one zhang wide.
In her previous visits, she had rushed back and forth without taking the time to carefully observe the Xiaonan Pavilion’s location.
Gao Yuexing began retracing the steps she had taken earlier.
The Jingmen Palace occupied the quietest corner in the northwest of the imperial city. Heading eastward, they passed Chunhe Palace but bypassed its main gate. Gao Yuexing guessed that this spot should be on the south side of the eastern part of the imperial city.
She recalled the layout of the imperial city from her past life.
Using the Emperor’s Qianqing Palace as the center, she made a simple comparison. Nearly all the palace locations had remained unchanged.
Beyond this alley, the nearest place to the north was Rouqi Pavilion.
It was said to have been the former residence of a certain consort in the palace. The consort had died young due to her ill fate. Since she had not been favored in life and left behind little to no stories, Gao Yuexing didn’t know who had once lived there.
As for directly south of Xiaonan Pavilion…
Gao Yuexing turned her head to look southward, her gaze piercing through the night.
It was the Eastern Palace of the Crown Prince!
The picture in Gao Yuexing’s mind became increasingly clear.
She hadn’t remembered wrong.
Ten years later, the Xiaonan Pavilion would no longer exist in the palace.
On the site where it once stood, a waterway would be built, transforming the area completely into a new place—Crabapple Dike.
Before Li Fuxiang was conferred the title of Crown Prince, an accidental fire broke out in the Eastern Palace, prompting the Emperor to order a complete renovation.
As for the Crabapple Dike, the Emperor decisively incorporated it into the Eastern Palace grounds with a wave of his hand.
Gao Yuexing looked back at where she stood.
This spot she was standing on now would one day belong to the Eastern Palace.
Fate seemed to weave an eerie sense of cyclical inevitability.
—“Gao Yuexing!”
Li Fuqiu grabbed Gao Yuexing by the shoulders, raising his voice. “Are you out of your mind?”
Gao Yuexing snapped out of her trance.
Meeting her gaze, Li Fuqiu instinctively took a few steps back.
Gao Yuexing rubbed her shoulder, which had been gripped so tightly it hurt.
She realized she had overlooked a crucial question.
Softly, she asked Li Fuqiu, “In Xiaonan Pavilion… who used to live here?”
Li Fuqiu’s face turned cold. His lips quivered, and after a long moment, he forced out a strained smile. “Gao Yuexing, were you born to torment me?”
They had lingered in this place far too long.
At the mouth of the alley, the sound of orderly footsteps echoed—it was the patrolling guards.
Before they could hide, the guards shouted from a distance, “Who’s there? Stop where you are!”
The two children exchanged a glance and bolted, too frantic to care about each other for now.
But their directions were remarkably the same.
Both headed straight for Xiaonan Pavilion.
Due to her physical limitations, Gao Yuexing, a six-year-old child with short legs, lagged far behind Li Fuqiu.
This was it.
The footsteps behind her grew louder and more numerous.
Gao Yuexing began to prepare herself mentally, already calculating how to talk her way out of trouble with the Emperor.
What a coincidence.
Just at that moment, a woman’s sharp scream pierced through the quiet night from not far away—”Assassin!”
The heart-wrenching cry tore through the stillness of the night.
Gao Yuexing had just reached the base of the Xiaonan Pavilion’s wall. Following the direction of the sound, she looked into the distance and saw the lights blazing inside Rouqi Pavilion.
The guards pursuing her paused for a moment.
Gao Yuexing immediately dove into the grass. But before she could react, a hand suddenly covered her mouth tightly and dragged her backward.
She struggled twice but couldn’t break free. Instead, a familiar fragrance drifted over her nose, faintly curling toward her from behind.
She instantly stopped moving.
Gao Yuexing recalled how, a few days ago, she had given a sachet to Li Fuxiang.
She only had that one sachet when she entered the palace, and after giving it to Li Fuxiang, she had none left for herself. Over the days, her scent had long since dissipated completely.
Now, this scent could only be on Li Fuxiang.
The sachet she had given him, he had kept with him all along.
Gao Yuexing stopped struggling.
The person behind her successfully dragged her into a hole in the ground.
Once inside, he let go.
Without needing any further urging, Gao Yuexing scrambled to the other side of the tunnel on her own, emerging in a disheveled state inside Xiaonan Pavilion.
She leaned against the stone bricks, panting heavily.
A green bamboo tube filled with water was thrust into her hand.
Only after catching her breath did Gao Yuexing look up at the person before her.
Li Fuxiang was dressed thinly, holding a bamboo stick about as thick as a forearm.
He had dug a hole under the palace wall, sneaking out in the dead of night. Clearly, he wasn’t exactly an honest person either.
Li Fuxiang led her inside.
Two days ago, it had rained. Autumn rains brought autumn chills, and the weather had turned colder.
Once inside, Gao Yuexing noticed a small copper brazier in the room. It was intricately crafted with delicate patterns, the kind typically favored by women in the inner quarters.
Under the unused bed, a pile of silver charcoal was stored.
In the palace, rules and propriety were paramount. What the masters used versus what the servants used was strictly regulated. Any transgression, no matter how slight, was considered an enormous affront.
Silver charcoal was a tribute item reserved exclusively for imperial use.
The Emperor, in his benevolence, would grant it to others, and the consorts of each palace were also allowed to use it.
However, the type and quantity of charcoal allocated to each palace were meticulously documented.
The amount of silver charcoal stored under Li Fuxiang’s bed was by no means insignificant.
In the harsh winter, a fire fueled by charcoal could be a life-saving resource.
Who was helping him?
Gao Yuexing took small sips from the bamboo tube, finishing the water.
The water didn’t taste good—it had a bitter, astringent flavor, and its aftertaste left her tongue bitter as well.
Li Fuxiang went out and returned the bamboo tube to the edge of the well.
The palace wells, which had likely been the site of many drownings, couldn’t possibly produce water with a pleasant taste.
Gao Yuexing shook out the fox-fur garment she carried and draped it over Li Fuxiang. As requested, Fu Yun had deliberately made the waist loose. Though Li Fuxiang was only a few inches taller than Gao Yuexing, the garment still appeared oversized on him.
Soft warmth instantly enveloped him.
Li Fuxiang reached out and grabbed a handful, the fluffy white fur slipping through his fingers.
Gao Yuexing saw a look of amazement on his face.
Perhaps it was something he had never seen before.
Gao Yuexing glanced at him, reluctant to part with him, but gritted her teeth, wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned in, and rubbed against him firmly. Then, she quickly gestured, “Something happened tonight, so I can’t stay long. It wasn’t easy to come see you… never mind, I’ll find another way.”
Li Fuxiang, knowing she was leaving, grabbed her clothing belt.
Gao Yuexing said, “You can protect yourself, can’t you?”
Li Fuxiang let go. He removed a pendant from inside his clothes and carefully placed it around Gao Yuexing’s neck.
Gao Yuexing looked down. It was a delicate copper pendant shaped like a squinting fox, still warm from his body.
It looked familiar.
She had seen it before.
In her previous life, Li Fuxiang always wore it and never took it off. It was said to be a keepsake from his birth mother.
Now, he was giving it to her.
Gao Yuexing tucked the pendant into her clothing. Hearing the noises outside gradually fade, the night seemed to have returned to stillness. She dared not linger. The situation tonight was genuinely dangerous. She crawled back through the hole, stuck close to the wall, and slipped away without looking back.
Just as she reached the outside of Jingmen Palace, she saw Fu Yun rushing out in a panic.
Gao Yuexing leaned against the stone lion at the entrance. Being so small, Fu Yun, in her haste, didn’t notice her. Gao Yuexing had to call out, “Sister Fu.”
Fu Yun looked down, recognized her face, and nearly collapsed, her legs giving way. “My little ancestor, where did you go? You scared me to death!”
Gao Yuexing sighed.
She had sneaked out while Fu Yun was asleep. Palace maids were naturally light sleepers, and tonight, with all the commotion, their vigilance was even greater.
Without any training, Gao Yuexing had learned to lie effortlessly, her face calm and her heart steady. “I heard a commotion outside and wanted to take a look.”
Fu Yun scolded her, “Foolish child, there’s an assassin out there, and you dared to go toward the chaos?”
Gao Yuexing donned her most obedient expression and said, “I won’t do it again.”
Fu Yun held Gao Yuexing’s icy little hand and led her back inside, warming her hands with a small hand warmer. As she did, she softly muttered, “The imperial physician said your illness is almost completely healed. Tomorrow, the Third Prince’s half-month confinement will end, and according to protocol, he’ll be heading to Wenhua Hall to attend his studies. Last night, the Imperial Consort sent someone to pass a message, saying your health is still fragile, and you mustn’t be left unattended for even a moment. She’s made an exception to allow me to accompany and serve you.”
The rules strictly prohibited princes and princesses from bringing personal servants to their studies at Wenhua Hall, except for companions and book attendants.
The Fifth Prince had a young eunuch around his age, who technically held the title of a book attendant.
Even the Third Prince, no matter how arrogant his daily behavior, could only have his servants and guards wait outside the hall while he attended lessons in Wenhua Hall.
Gao Yuexing remarked, “That might not conform to the rules.”
Fu Yun smiled. “Don’t worry, Miss Gao. The Emperor himself granted permission.”
Gao Yuexing forced a smile. “Then I’ll be troubling you.”
Her expression betrayed nothing, calm and composed, but inwardly she was lamenting her predicament.
Having another pair of eyes constantly watching her—eyes that weren’t hers to command—would make everything she wanted to do far more inconvenient.
Fu Yun urged her to sleep.
Gao Yuexing undressed and lay down. After tossing and turning for a while, she suddenly asked, “Sister Fu, are you asleep?”
Fu Yun didn’t respond immediately. After a moment of drowsy confusion, she replied, “Not yet. Do you need something?”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Just now, I heard the palace servants say something happened in the direction of Xiaonan Pavilion… Who lives in Xiaonan Pavilion?”
The next moment.
The bed curtain in front of Gao Yuexing was abruptly lifted.
Fu Yun, now wide awake, her almond-shaped eyes round as coins, lowered her voice urgently. “What did you say? Something happened at Xiaonan Pavilion?!”