Zhuo Qing walked side by side with Lou Xiyan. Lou Xiyan wore an expression as if nothing was amiss, while Gao Jin lowered his head, concealing the complex emotions flickering in his eyes. The three of them skirted around the main hall, heading toward the inner chamber behind it. After winding through the corridors, they stopped before a palace slightly smaller than the main hall. Inside, candlelight flickered, but the doors remained tightly shut.
Zhuo Qing looked up and unexpectedly caught sight of Qing Ling, who had vanished from the main hall earlier, now under the watchful eye of a guard. Their gazes met for a moment; in Qing Ling's eyes, Zhuo Qing saw a multitude of questions, yet she neither knew nor could explain anything, for she was not the sister she once knew.
"The Emperor commands that Qing Ling enter the chamber," Gao Jin's voice lacked the usual shrillness of a eunuch.
After a deep, searching look at Zhuo Qing, Qing Ling strode toward the slightly ajar door. Zhuo Qing was still pondering the complicated meaning behind that glance when suddenly, a shattering crash of porcelain echoed from within. Standing on the stone path outside the chamber with Lou Xiyan, the sound was distant, muffling any conversations inside, but it was enough to convey a grave atmosphere.
Still worried for Qing Ling, Zhuo Qing's thoughts were interrupted as the door abruptly swung open. Qing Ling was supported by Gao Jin as she stepped out, uninjured but with a face pale to an alarming degree. Gao Jin handed her over to the attendant and then strode directly toward Zhuo Qing.
"Miss Qing, please follow me into the chamber," he said.
Zhuo Qing was taken aback. So the Emperor intended to confront them one by one! Before Lou Xiyan could speak, Gao Jin respectfully added, "Prime Minister Lou, the Emperor has only summoned Miss Qing to enter."
Zhuo Qing frowned; it would be difficult to feign ignorance when questioned alone. Lou Xiyan gently patted her shoulder and smiled softly, "Go ahead, I'll be right outside."
Looking up, Zhuo Qing met his clear, composed gaze. Though the words were simple, they brought an inexplicable sense of security to her heart. Perhaps she should thank fate for crossing her path with him after crossing over.
Well, she was inhabiting another's body—there was no point in evading certain matters. With a resigned smile and no hesitation, Zhuo Qing turned and entered the chamber.
Her steps were resolute, unaware that as she turned away, Lou Xiyan's gentle smile froze on his lips, his half-lidded eyes inscrutable in their thoughts.
Zhuo Qing crossed the threshold, while Gao Jin remained outside, closing the door behind her. The chamber was not as spacious as the main hall, but still larger than an ordinary meeting room. Scattered shards of broken porcelain lay on the floor.
Zhuo Qing lifted her eyes to find the man standing in the center. His jet-black jade crown was gone, replaced by a black robe over his previously bright yellow ceremonial attire. His cold eyes and impassive face betrayed the turmoil beneath his heaving chest.
Though the candlelight was dim, obscuring his expression, Zhuo Qing deeply felt the oppressive aura of violent control radiating from him.
She halted, no longer advancing, lowering her gaze in silent defiance, adopting the mindset of "ignore to remain calm."
An oppressive silence enveloped the chamber, broken only by Yan Hongtian's slightly hoarse breathing. Zhuo Qing kept her head bowed, wordless. Unfortunately, Yan Hongtian lacked her patience.
"Raise your head," he growled, and before she could react, a heavy palm seized her jaw without mercy, forcing her face upward.
"Do you think that by sending someone else into the palace, you can evade me? Three years ago, I declared that you would be mine for life."
His low voice was not loud but suffused with a chilling intensity that made Zhuo Qing's heart tremble. The man possessed overwhelming aggression and possessiveness. Though her jaw throbbed with pain, Zhuo Qing remained silent. Until she understood the full situation, silence was her best defense—he could crush her with minimal effort.
Her silence only fueled Yan Hongtian's fury further.
"What's this? So eloquent and radiant in the hall, but now you're mute?"
She felt his grip tightening as anger simmered. Cautiously, Zhuo Qing replied, "I have nothing to say. Qing Feng's visit to the Prime Minister's residence was solely by the Emperor's order."
"An order, you say!" As soon as the words left her lips, Yan Hongtian's wrath exploded, a barely contained growl escaping him, "I sent Qing Feng to the residence, not you—Qing Ling."
Qing Ling? Pain forgotten, Zhuo Qing was stunned. She was Qing Ling? Impossible! A sudden flash of Qing Ling's complex gaze passed through her mind. Wait—if she was Qing Ling, then was the woman just now Qing Feng? No wonder Yan Hongtian looked at her so strangely. He had never been mistaken—he wanted Qing Ling!
Her head spun. She had to keep calm.
Staring at the composed and cold woman before him, Yan Hongtian sneered, "Three years ago, I didn't realize you were such a formidable player—able to persuade your sister to enter the palace on your behalf, to bewilder Xiyan in such a short time, even to solve mysteries through autopsy. Truly remarkable."
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Zhuo Qing insisted, "You are mistaken. I am Qing Feng, not Qing Ling."
It was all his conjecture. What if he was testing her? If she denied it, he had no cause to act further.
A flicker of cold mockery and malice passed through Yan Hongtian's eyes. Zhuo Qing's heart sank—she had clearly provoked him.
Sure enough, Yan Hongtian tightened his grasp on her jaw and violently seized her garment—rip—the cold chill on her chest told her the fabric had torn. Held by the chin, she dared not bow her head. The sound of tearing fabric and a sharp pain in her right shoulder revealed she was nearly half-bared.
Though still clad in an undergarment akin to a modern backless top, not overly revealing, Zhuo Qing felt a humiliation unlike any before. She coldly met the man's triumphant gaze and hissed, "What more do you want?"
If he believed possession would make her his obedient woman, she would prove how foolish that notion was.
"Shy, are we?" His eyes roved over her graceful figure, delighting in the indignation and humiliation in her gaze.
His grip relaxed slightly, sliding to the nape of her neck to pull her close, one hand circling her waist, the other caressing her earlobe. A low, husky murmur escaped his lips:
"You are destined to be mine—no need for shame."
His strong hands clasped her chest tightly. Zhuo Qing placed her hands between them, pushing with all her might, but her feeble strength was no match. Their bodies pressed together.
His body radiated heat; the pounding heartbeat beneath his chest pulsed through her palms. She could feel his restless desire.
"You…" She tried to reason, but it was futile. A man inflamed by passion heeds no reason.
A fiery kiss claimed her lips, fierce and possessive. Zhuo Qing's mind reeled, momentarily dizzy, but the heat against her chest brought swift clarity.
His hand had slipped to her right breast. She struggled fiercely; after several attempts, she realized escape was impossible. Determined, she bit down hard on his reckless tongue, drawing a muffled groan and the taste of blood.
Just as she prepared to bite again, Yan Hongtian released her. Zhuo Qing stepped back several meters, stopping to watch him warily.
Finally catching her breath, she gasped for air, feeling overheated from the encounter. Wiping the blood from her lips with her thumb, she saw Yan Hongtian chuckle.
"You're certainly fiery."
She was different from when they first met, but that suited him—he preferred a woman with spirit; conquest was more enjoyable.
His gaze flickered to her right shoulder, darkening. Coldly, he said, "Still dare to claim you are not Qing Ling?"
Over the years, he had uncovered all her secrets and naturally knew the mark on her shoulder. Now, how would she deny it?
What? A forced kiss proved she was Qing Ling?
Yan Hongtian's eyes fixed on the faint red character near her right shoulder close to her chest. Zhuo Qing looked down, startled—not by the character itself but by the unexplained appearance of the mark. She touched her skin; it was smooth. Gradually, the mark faded and vanished.
What kind of magic was this?
Zhuo Qing's shock did not escape Yan Hongtian, whose approach finally snapped her back to the present.
Stepping back, she called out, "Wait! I have something to say!"
Yan Hongtian made no move forward, merely glared coldly.
Her mind raced. This body was Qing Ling's, but she truly had entered the Prime Minister's residence. How to explain?
A sudden insight struck her. Calmly, she looked up, feigning confusion, and replied, "On the way here, the escorting officers feared my sisters and me might misbehave. They drugged us daily, and for over half a month, I was unconscious and disoriented. When I awoke, I had forgotten much. Everyone insists I am Qing Feng, and there's a mark on my shoulder, but I have no recollection of it or anything you just mentioned."
"Amnesia?" Yan Hongtian laughed harshly
, "A convenient excuse."
Zhuo Qing realized her chance was slim, but it was worth trying.
He narrowed his eyes, then snarled, "You should not have come here today."
Suddenly, the doors behind her burst open. Gao Jin hurried in, flushed and out of breath, "Your Majesty! Something has happened outside!"
Yan Hongtian's cold gaze froze on Zhuo Qing. "What's this commotion?"
Zhuo Qing's heart skipped a beat. The moment had come — her fate, and perhaps the truth behind this strange marriage, would soon unfold.