Chapter 86: The Scheme

It must be said that Wei Xie was cunning enough—willingly stepping back just to drag Qian Yu down with him, all to ensure he reclaimed Yu Jingshuang at any cost.

Yet no matter how honeyed and seductive his words sounded, Qian Yu watched and listened coldly, unmoved in heart, only seething killing intent surging violently within his chest. Wei Xie’s relentless invocation of “Lan Chengyuan” further enraged him, instantly stirring long-buried jealousy and hatred—making him wish nothing more than to draw his blade and cut Wei Xie down on the spot!

Without hesitation, he lunged forward, sword in hand, kicking aside the two guards in two or three swift moves, then thrusting his blade straight at Wei Xie. Though not entirely helpless, Wei Xie twisted his body to evade, drew his own sword to parry, and counter-thrust fiercely toward Qian Yu!

Both burned with indescribable jealousy and hatred—neither holding back, each strike aimed unerringly at vital points. Qian Yu, still recovering from a severe ambush injury sustained days earlier, and Wei Xie, weakened by lingering poison in his system, found themselves locked in stalemate—neither able to land a fatal blow.

“Clang—!” The clash of steel rang long and grating. Wei Xie leaned heavily on his sword to steady himself, his pale, haggard face contorted with pain. Qian Yu staggered back several steps before regaining his footing, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes locked fiercely upon Wei Xie—murderous intent blazing, unmasked and raw.

Seeing his expression, Wei Xie suddenly laughed. “Who are you trying to fool? You went to extraordinary lengths—even altering your appearance—just to stay near her. Even after being exposed and cast out, you refuse to give up, hiding here instead of leaving.”

He continued, “You know Jing Shuang’s temperament better than I do… Without joining forces with me, you’ll never get close to her again in this lifetime. Or do you plan to play the silent guardian?”

Noticing Qian Yu’s brow twitch, Wei Xie knew he’d struck a nerve. He paused—then burst into mocking laughter, sneering, “…Then why did you run away back then? Coward! Given another chance, you’d still be a coward!”

He snarled, “Only by holding her in your hands can you speak of protection—or redemption. Otherwise, what good is begging for forgiveness? Or playing the mere friend?”

Qian Yu turned his head and spat blood—then laughed coldly. “What will you use to win her back? How will you hold her? With that aged face of yours?”

Meeting Wei Xie’s suddenly widened, twisted gaze, he scoffed, “Wake up, Wei Xie! You’re no longer young. Ten years have passed—even the most delicate flower would have withered to dust, let alone you? You’re old and ugly now, no longer the dazzling beauty who once captivated Jing Shuang. You’re so frail you’re nearly dead—and yet you still dream your delusions?”

He exhaled sharply. Over the years, the weight upon his heart—the sorrow, the shame—had nearly crushed him. Layer upon layer of regret had suffocated him, making him afraid to speak, his thoughts churning endlessly inside, yet feeling unworthy even to utter a single word before Yu Jingshuang.

Gradually, he had almost become a living, silent statue—nearly forgetting that, years ago, his rise to prominence had rested on a silver tongue capable of twisting truth and inciting fury.

Now, unleashing all the venom festering in his heart directly onto Wei Xie’s face, Qian Yu suddenly felt a crushing weight lift from his chest—a profound, chilling relief.

Wei Xie, his secrets laid bare and his dignity shredded by mockery and humiliation, narrowed his pupils instantly—each word striking like a dagger to the heart, making him long to tear this wretch apart on the spot!

With a furious roar, he lurched forward, nearly irrational, eyes blood-red as he swung his sword. Qian Yu twisted to block—the old wound on his abdomen tearing open anew. Channeling the sharp agony into strength, he swung his long blade—“Clang!”—deflecting the sword aimed at his neck.

As the blade grazed his ear, Qian Yu caught a whiff of medicinal scent mingled with blood. His expression shifted abruptly—eyes widening as he stared at Wei Xie. “You’re still using Yellow Millet Dream?” Disdain flared across his face as he roared, “Addicted to such filth—and you dare show yourself before Jing Shuang?”

Wei Xie met Qian Yu’s gaze—his face twisted momentarily, his eyes flickering evasively. With a flick of his wrist, he revealed his killing intent—and a concealed crossbow hidden in his sleeve fired a poisoned arrow straight at Qian Yu’s heart.

“Clink—!”

Qian Yu blocked it swiftly, rolling across the floor as his blade embedded itself deep into Wei Xie’s shoulder blade.

“You used Gu worms too, didn’t you? Despicable scum—what right do you have to judge me!” Wei Xie gritted his teeth, recalling how, while he suffered and struggled in the palace depths, this wretch Lan Chengyuan had seized the chance to approach Jing Shuang first! Back at Lin Xiao’s residence, they had agreed—once freed from their cages, each would rely on his own means to strive to reclaim Jing Shuang and atone for the sins of the past decade…

But Wei Xie had never imagined Lan Chengyuan would fake his death and escape first—hiding beside Jing Shuang, serving as her guard for so long, living harmoniously and happily with her… Every time he thought of it, Wei Xie boiled with jealousy and hatred—convinced that, but for Lan Chengyuan’s interference, *he* should have been the one sharing that “reunion and silent protection” narrative with Jing Shuang!

Blinded by rage, he ignored the searing pain in his shoulder—fumbling blindly for a dagger and stabbing wildly at Qian Yu, striking the old wound at his waist. Flesh tore with a sickening sound. Wei Xie gripped the hilt and twisted it half a turn—bone cracked, a scream erupted—simultaneously.

Qian Yu clenched his teeth, swallowing half the scream. Ignoring the wound bursting open, blade lost, he swung a fist hard at the face he so envied—striking Wei Xie so violently his head snapped sideways, blood gushing from nose and mouth. With no weapon left, he endured the pain, reaching out to grip Wei Xie’s throat—determined to strangle this persistent pest to death!

“Why did you come to Daliang? If not for you, this wretch—how could I have been exposed so quickly before her!”

He had always loathed Wei Xie intensely. This man—who had stood beside Jing Shuang back then—had no idea how to cherish her, causing his beloved Jing Shuang to suffer and ultimately be exiled thousands of miles from home. Just when Jing Shuang had finally settled, living peacefully and happily—this wretch clung to her again… And now, he actually dared to think about “winning her back”?

Wei Xie even had the audacity to seek an alliance with him—mocking him for having been driven away by Jing Shuang like a stray dog?!

Remembering the icy detachment on Jing Shuang’s face that day—how no amount of pleading could sway her—Qian Yu’s heart trembled violently, the pain nearly suffocating. And the culprit stood before him—he only regretted not having struck harder then, killing this wretch for good atop that mountain!

Qian Yu’s face darkened, his grip tightening. Wei Xie struggled—ignoring the suffocating grip of near-death—instead yanking out the dagger and plunging it back in vengefully, spraying flecks of blood and flesh. Seeing Qian Yu’s face rapidly blanch, he choked out a hoarse, breathless laugh—gasping, “Haha… Lan… Lan Chengyuan, you bastard… Even if I die… I won’t let you… and Shuang Shuang… be together!”

Qian Yu’s vision blurred. He knew well the severity of the wound at his waist—and in Wei Xie’s eyes, he saw his own equally twisted, grotesque reflection. Forcing a smile, he spoke haltingly, “What… do I care if I die? Taking you to the underworld… so you can never… disturb Jing Shuang’s peace again… would be best!”

Wei Xie’s eyes bulged—choked gasps bursting from his chest. Just as he was about to be strangled to death, a long, piercing whistle pierced the air outside. In the next instant, the door splintered inward—two figures charging straight in!

Qian Yu had no choice but to release his grip, stumbling backward—then spinning to sweep both attackers off their feet. Snatching up his discarded blade, eyes glacial, he raised it to strike—

A flash of cold light—the attacker dodged sideways, barely avoiding the blade. Qian Yu, fighting through exhaustion, noticed the two black-clad figures bore no resemblance to Wei Xie’s guards. Exchanging a glance, they quickly disengaged—retreating instead, lifting the unconscious Wei Xie and vanishing swiftly.

Qian Yu instinctively took two steps to pursue—but the old wound flared with searing pain. He halted abruptly—then vomited a mouthful of blood, staggered twice—and finally, drained of strength, collapsed with a heavy thud, slipping into darkness.

Inside a rattling carriage, Wei Xie was carefully lifted upright by his subordinates. His wounds were bandaged—but the deep, livid marks around his neck bore stark witness to how narrowly he’d escaped strangulation.

Wei Xie’s voice was hoarse as he tried to speak—only to be seized by violent coughs, his body curling uncontrollably, trembling deeply. His subordinates, long accustomed to this, hurriedly lit a slender stick of incense. As its faint fragrance spread, they expertly presented it to Wei Xie—and covered their faces with cloths to shield themselves from the peculiar scent.

Wei Xie inhaled deeply—the Yellow Millet Dream gradually suppressing the excruciating pain and itching coursing through his body. He slowly calmed—then, regaining clarity, gazed at the rising smoke with a twisted expression—part longing, part revulsion…

After a long silence, Wei Xie exhaled sharply—turned his gaze away—and spoke bitterly, “Is everything ready?”

One subordinate knelt, fists clasped, and replied solemnly, “We’ve thoroughly investigated Yu Jingshuang’s connections and tracked her daily routines… The carriages and personnel for returning to Shangyan are also prepared.”

Wei Xie closed his eyes. “If it’s ready—act immediately.”

…

Days lengthened, the weather warmed, and the wind carried the fragrance of blossoms. Daliang had entered early summer.

Yu Jingshuang, finding the outdoors unbearably hot, had taken to staying indoors lately—spending her days sipping tea and wine, reading novels, growing increasingly content with this leisurely, tranquil life.

Originally, she had agreed with Ming Heng to feign retirement while working together—openly and covertly—until the rebellion of the Second Prince’s remnants was resolved, after which she would resume her post. But now, the plan grew steadily less appealing—she began thinking, “Wouldn’t it be nice to simply continue like this?”

Yu Jingshuang grew lazier—while Xiao Xing ventured out more often. Yet Xiao Xing, naturally aloof, even if she vaguely noticed recent tails shadowing her, chose not to inform Yu Jingshuang—assuming they were either Yan Lingxi’s family servants fretting over their young mistress—or insignificant Bai-family followers—nothing worth concern.

Since Yu Jingshuang’s “retirement” and Ming Heng’s gradual consolidation of power, life had remained peaceful. Confident in her martial prowess, Xiao Xing grew less vigilant—finding constant vigilance exhausting, preferring novels instead. She merely issued discreet warnings to the Yan and Bai households. When the prying eyes disappeared, she relaxed—thinking little of it.

Yan Lingxi, however, upon learning from her parents that Xiao Xing had chased away servants sneaking her snacks, indignantly complained to Yu Jingshuang several times. A single cold glance from Xiao Xing silenced her.

Truthfully, Yan Lingxi was simply bored cooped up in the small courtyard all day—and looked forward to those secret treats. Having lived there so long, with Yu Jingshuang imposing no restrictions, she’d initially dared not step outside—fearing the “husband-killer” rumors that once flooded the streets. So she passed time reading Xiao Xing’s novels. Gradually, Yan Lingxi grew accustomed to the quiet, peaceful life within the courtyard.

And after reading countless novels brimming with intricate, dramatic love stories—and comparing herself to their tragic heroines—Yan Lingxi realized she wasn’t so unfortunate after all.

She no longer cried easily or threatened suicide—and her relationship with Ming Feng surprisingly improved.

Though she still thought Ming Feng didn’t act like a prince—clumsy, tall, and burly, failing to match the capital’s ideal of the “elegant noble”—she couldn’t complain, since he often cooked for her, wielding a spatula every few days, and always brought her the finest pastries from Xiangxi Garden…

Yan Lingxi, chin propped in her hand, decided this dark-faced, burly prince was actually quite nice—aside from being quiet.

At first, finding Ming Feng—a noble who disdained calligraphy and wealth but loved farming—bizarre and somewhat off-putting, she’d been wary. But over time, curiosity took hold—and she began following him to see for herself.

Gradually, she became fascinated by the novelties of the fields. Every morning, she rode with Ming Feng to the outskirts—tinkering with strange seeds, sometimes bringing back ingredients Yu Jingshuang had never seen—eagerly offering to cook—though Yu Jingshuang, wary of her culinary skills, once declined, upsetting the girl.

Once, while Yu Jingshuang was out on business—passing by the fields where Ming Feng often worked and remembering Yan Lingxi was there—she decided to sneak a peek at how the two were getting along.

The wind carried the scent of freshly turned soil across the ridges. By the bamboo fence, Yan Lingxi sat before a wooden basin, washing clover seeds—her toes wiggling, fingertips glistening with water droplets. Ming Feng crouched beside her, gently adjusting her tilted bamboo hat with tender care.

“Hey, blockhead—want to try the millet cakes my parents sent? They’re delicious!” Yan Lingxi pulled an oil-paper package from her handkerchief—the golden edges still steaming—as she waved it teasingly before Ming Feng’s eyes.

Ming Feng accepted the package—wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve—yet handling the cake with surprising delicacy. He took a small bite—the crisp “crunch” startling a hen beneath the fence into flapping wildly away.

Yu Jingshuang, standing atop the ridge, watched as Yan Lingxi—startled by the hen—turned to scold Ming Feng. She recalled the Empress’s recent message, happily noting how Yan Lingxi, during her palace visits lately, spoke of her life with a soft, genuine smile in her eyes…

The Empress remarked on how effective she was, but Yu Jingshuang, watching the two figures not far away leaning close together, her heart was in turmoil, and she gave a wry smile to herself: Was it truly her skill in comforting others, or was it that the young lady of the Yan family had her heart filled with other people and other things, so she didn't have time to dwell on those messy matters... She truly had no idea.

The tender sprouts of alfalfa emerged from the clay pot, casting the shadows of the two figures by the bamboo fence longer and longer in the sunset, like two plants growing together, their roots secretly entwined in the soil.

Yu Jingshuang hesitated for a long while, suddenly feeling awkward in her role as an elder. She rubbed her nose and quietly slipped away.

The peaceful days didn’t last long. With a sudden downpour, Ming Heng officially began his purge of court officials and noble families. The Bai family completely collapsed, the envoys of the Dian Kingdom were all arrested, and the cases previously piled up for the Military Guard were thoroughly reinvestigated.

As the heavy rain subsided, Zhong Ling, the Commander of the Military Guard, arrived for a visit, stepping through the puddles and mud.

He came to report on the recently uncovered Yellow Millet Dream and update Yu Jingshuang on the case’s progress. The conversation kept circling back to the Bai family and the Dian Kingdom. Though they had some leads, they still couldn’t capture the key mastermind behind it all.

Yu Jingshuang told him not to rush. Zhong Ling took a sip of tea and suddenly seemed to remember something, his expression turning troubled. Under Yu Jingshuang’s puzzled gaze, he leaned in closer and whispered, "Commander... Lady Yu, there’s something I’m not sure if I should mention..."

Sitting in the small courtyard, he stole a glance at a room in the corner. Yu Jingshuang followed his gaze and frowned. "Does it involve Yan Lingxi? You’re not going to tell me that a young girl like her is also mixed up in this Illusion Incense case, are you?"

Zhong Ling quickly waved his hands. "Yes and no..."

He sighed and lowered his voice. "This young lady of the Yan family... I’ve heard about her situation. The infamous 'husband-killer' fate—three husbands dead in a row, causing quite a stir in the capital. That’s why she had to seek refuge here with you."

Yu Jingshuang stared blankly at him. Zhong Ling cautiously glanced at her reaction and continued, "Following the clues you provided, I investigated from the tavern to the storytellers, from the storytellers to the bookstores... and after digging around, guess which families I uncovered?"

Yu Jingshuang’s curiosity was piqued. "Which families?"

Zhong Ling clapped his hands mysteriously. "The Zhao, Li, and Zhou families in the capital! Can you believe it?"

Upon hearing these three names, Yu Jingshuang paused, deep in thought, and after a moment, she said, "Wait... these three families? If I remember correctly... it’s them?"

Seeing her doubtful expression, Zhong Ling nodded firmly. Yu Jingshuang, both confused and shocked, pressed urgently, "What exactly happened? Explain it clearly, and quickly."

Zhong Ling’s expression was complicated. "It’s all the convoluted schemes of those noble families... Marrying into the Yan family wouldn’t just bring the support of the entire Yan clan but also a connection to Her Majesty the Empress. His Majesty’s intentions to target the noble families are clear—who in the capital isn’t afraid of being implicated?"

Whenever Yan Lingxi was betrothed to a young master, that family would be overjoyed, while the others watched jealously. Taking advantage of the chaos stirred up by the Bai family, someone quietly spread the "Yellow Millet Dream" among the noble families.

This Illusion Incense was first given to the young master of the Zhao family. The poisoner’s intention was to drive him mad, spread some rumors, and naturally persuade Yan Lingxi to break off the engagement so they could step in.

But the Illusion Incense was too potent—once consumed, it was hard to quit. By the time everyone realized what was happening, the Zhao family’s young master was already deeply addicted to the Yellow Millet Dream and eventually lost his life.

Someone had died, but the Yan family only saw it as an accident and continued seeking a good match for Yan Lingxi. No family was willing to give up. With experience from the first incident, the next attempts became even more reckless. Thus, first the Zhao family, then the Li family, and finally the Zhou family—three young men were inexplicably caught in the conflicts among their elders, foolishly induced to consume the Yellow Millet Dream, and lost their lives.

Yan Lingxi was then rumored to have a "husband-killer" fate and nearly lost her life as well.

"Human greed and madness are truly terrifying," Zhong Ling sighed, touching his chest.

Yu Jingshuang frowned, a flicker of worry crossed her mind. She wondered whether she should let Yan Lingxi know about this...

On one hand, she felt that since Yan Lingxi cared so much about her reputation and held onto it so tightly, she should be told the truth about the so-called "husband-killer" fate. But remembering how the young girl’s mood had finally improved recently, no longer dwelling on negative thoughts, Yu Jingshuang feared that learning "those men died because of her" would make things worse.

She sighed deeply, unsure what to do. She couldn’t help but glare at Zhong Ling, blaming him for investigating so thoroughly and telling her about it. How was she supposed to face Yan Lingxi now? How could she comfort her?

Yu Jingshuang thought to herself that she couldn’t keep things hidden in her heart...

Just then, the courtyard gate creaked softly. Yu Jingshuang and Zhong Ling both turned in surprise to see Yan Lingxi push the door open and slowly walk in, her eyes filled with tears.

Yu Jingshuang immediately stood up, flustered. "Uh... Lingxi? Why are you back so early? ...No, that’s not what I meant... Well, how much did you hear?"

Yan Lingxi stopped, sniffled, and said with downcast eyes, "I heard everything."

Upon hearing this, Yu Jingshuang felt uncharacteristically awkward. She didn’t know what to say to this delicate young girl, afraid that saying the wrong thing might drive her to despair again. Using the stone table as cover, she kicked Zhong Ling hard, signaling the culprit to say something to defuse the situation.

But Zhong Ling was even more tongue-tied than her. He stammered for a long time, his face turning red, and suddenly blurted out loudly, "Commander, please forgive me! My wife is waiting for me at home. I must take my leave!"

With that, he swiftly slipped out between Yu Jingshuang and Yan Lingxi at lightning speed, thoughtfully closing the door behind them.

Yu Jingshuang was so angry she nearly fell over backward. But under Yan Lingxi’s gaze, she couldn’t avoid the situation. She braced herself and stepped forward, pulling Yan Lingxi into her arms, and they sat down together at the stone table.

To her surprise, although Yan Lingxi had been crying, after sitting down and drinking some tea, she quickly recovered. Aside from looking a bit downcast, she didn’t exhibit the hysterical reaction Yu Jingshuang had feared.

"Lingxi... if you’re sad, just say it... Speaking it out will make you feel better," Yu Jingshuang whispered comfortingly, patting her shoulder.

Yan Lingxi leaned on her shoulder, sniffled, and after a moment of silence, said, "Don’t worry about me, Lady Yu... I’m fine."

She spoke absently, as if to no one in particular: "This might sound strange, but... although I was really sad at first to hear their deaths were related to me, upon careful thought, I realized it wasn’t my fault."

Yu Jingshuang widened her eyes in surprise, almost not recognizing the young girl before her.

Yan Lingxi seemed unaware of her reaction and continued, "These past few days, I’ve been fiddling with those vegetable seeds with Ming Feng... Whether seeds sprout depends on sunlight, water, and soil. You can’t blame the seeds."

"Sometimes, I put in a lot of effort, but they just wouldn’t sprout... Some people would say the seeds are dead, dirty, or bring bad luck, ruining the entire field—just like how people talk about me, saying I’m a husband-killer, unlucky."

Yan Lingxi’s tone was calm, carrying a hint of helplessness and confusion: "...But in reality, I’m just a young girl who knows nothing. How could I have such a big impact? Even if I died, the world would probably remain calm. It’s just a marriage alliance—how could it have killed those people? Those who could be 'killed' by a young girl like me probably weren’t that tough to begin with."

She concluded: "So I think it was the conflicts among the noble families and the scheming in the court that killed those brothers, not me."

Hearing this, even Yu Jingshuang wanted to applaud her. But before she could shower her with praise, the door was pushed open with force, and Ming Feng strode in, clapping loudly—

He walked into the courtyard, his eyes sparkling, and loudly agreed: "Yes! That’s right! This 'husband-killer' nonsense is pure slander!"

Yan Lingxi’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and she nodded repeatedly: "Exactly! I’m just a young girl who rarely steps outside, eats only a small bowl of rice per meal—how could I possibly have caused the deaths of several grown men?"

Ming Feng nodded along earnestly: "Yes, yes! Those people are talking nonsense! They’re ridiculous! Real men don’t believe in such things!"

Hearing him agree with her and not look down on her at all, Yan Lingxi felt increasingly pleased. She lifted her head higher and continued triumphantly: "Then, Ming Feng, tell me yourself—would you be afraid of me being a husband-killer like those others?"

Ming Feng patted his chest firmly: "I’m not afraid! I’m strong and healthy—you can try to 'kill' me all you want!"

As soon as these words left his mouth, both of them froze. Yan Lingxi’s face flushed red to the tips of her ears. She stammered for a moment before gritting her teeth and saying, "In your dreams!"

With that, she dashed back into her room, leaving behind an equally red-faced Ming Feng standing dumbfounded in the courtyard, lost in thought.

And Yu Jingshuang, who had been standing awkwardly in the corner since their conversation began, staring at the sky in contemplation.

"Author's Note"

I’ve had way too much going on at school recently, so much that I’ve been staying up late every night and still couldn’t finish my assignments, leaving no time to write updates [sobbing]. But thankfully, it’ll all be over starting tomorrow [folds hands]. From now on, I’ll be updating diligently every day [big laugh].