Chapter 95: Liu Qiao.

Chapter 95: Liu Qiao.

After discreetly seeing Ji Yuanwan off, Liu Qiao returned to the main courtyard.

The main courtyard was the largest, most spacious, and brightest in Prince Duan’s estate.

Liu Qiao loved gardening.

Before she married, she spent all her free time tending to her flourishing gardens.

In spring there were peonies; in summer, hibiscus; in autumn, green chrysanthemums; and in winter, red plum blossoms adorned the trees.

Each season brought its own blossoms, and she would host garden parties, inviting a few close friends to admire the flowers, relax together, critique recently composed poetry, or share amusing stories from the capital.

After marrying into the estate, the first challenges she faced were complicated ledgers and estate management.

But while such matters might overwhelm others, they never fazed Liu Qiao.

Within a few months, she had gained complete control over staffing and sorted out every ledger.

By the following spring, she had plenty of time to cultivate seasonal blooms throughout the courtyard.

Even in the most secluded corners, lively shoots would sometimes sprout from the soil.

The only regret was that her dearest friends had wed, each tied down by responsibilities, so they rarely met as often as before to admire flowers and enjoy leisure.

However, this melancholy soon passed.

Because Liu Qiao discovered that Prince Duan understood her perfectly. He could appreciate the blooming garden, listen attentively when she played the qin, play chess with her, and praise her remarkable painting skills.

This young and handsome prince not only possessed noble lineage but also shared countless interests with her, fulfilling all her girlish dreams of an ideal husband.

Back then, the main courtyard had been the heart of the estate’s activity.

After the births of her eldest son, Ji Yuanwan, and second son, Ji Yuankang, it grew even more vibrant.

The two children chattered like sparrows, buzzing around her, making even the garden’s blossoms seem more alive.

...

Recalling the year Yuankang was born—when she held her newborn in the courtyard to bask in the sun, while Yuanyuan, holding Prince Duan’s hand, pointed at a cluster of newly bloomed chrysanthemums and asked what they were—Liu Qiao’s eyes misted over with nostalgia.

But soon, as she surveyed the dying garden before her, that tenderness gradually faded.

Suddenly, she asked Nanny Zhuang beside her, “It should be chrysanthemum season now, shouldn’t it?”

Nanny Zhuang replied, “Indeed. In previous years, many aristocratic families in the capital would host flower-viewing banquets around this time, inviting Your Highness to admire the blossoms.”

Nanny Zhuang was Liu Qiao’s wet nurse and had served by her side for many years.

After Ji Yuanwan was chosen to enter the palace, Liu Qiao, unable to rest easy, sent her most trusted Nanny Zhuang to accompany him.

Liu Qiao asked, “Have the green chrysanthemums I planted bloomed yet?”

Nanny Zhuang hesitated for a moment.

In the past, Liu Qiao had ample leisure to care for her flowers, and even the servants who attended her closely kept track of every bloom.

But once Liu Qiao lost all interest in tending to the flowers, she rarely asked about them anymore, leaving them to the gardeners’ care.

"My Lady..."

The gardener trembled as he approached Liu Qiao.

"Those pots of chrysanthemums... they died the year before last."

Bracing for a scolding, he was surprised when the princess consort only let out a melancholy sigh. "The year before last... So they died that long ago..."

"Why am I only hearing this now?"

Fearing her anger, the gardener quickly explained, "I reported it to you at the time, My Lady. You told me not to worry about them, so I disposed of them."

Liu Qiao tried hard to recall but couldn’t remember.

She waved her hand, all enthusiasm gone. "Forget it. Everyone leave—except Nanny Zhuang."

Nanny Zhuang said, "My Lady, there are other chrysanthemums in the greenhouse. They’re likely blooming now. Shall I have someone bring a few pots over?"

"The flowers return each year, but people are never the same."

"No. They’re different. Completely different."

Liu Qiao shook her head and sat before the bronze mirror.

The mirror showed a thin, weary face.

She traced the corners of her eyes with her slender fingers.

"How quickly time flies. Before I knew it, Yuanyuan turned fifteen, and I look so much older."

Nanny Zhuang hesitated behind her, at a loss for words.

"You’ve endured too much these past years, My Lady."

Liu Qiao smiled faintly.

Suffered?

Oh, she had suffered deeply.

"I’ve always wanted to ask the Prince, honestly."

"I’ve wanted to ask him—what did she have that I didn’t?"

"But I can’t ask."

"Asking would mean admitting defeat."

Nanny Zhuang’s eyes welled up. "In all my years, I’ve never met anyone better than you, My Lady."

"I loathe her."

"Ever since I first heard of her, I hated her. Especially when His Highness wrote in his letter that, by blood, she and I could even be considered cousins... Hah, cousins..."

"And I fear her."

"I’ve always looked down on women who claw their way up by clinging to powerful men." "But what if a woman, without the backing of a prestigious family, becomes the empress of a nation just by her looks, wits, and schemes?"

"The Empress of a nation, the motherly example for the realm, is the very model for all women. Who would dare belittle her? Who would dare mock her?"

"In Emperor Jingyuan’s presence, I feel only reverence. But from the moment I learned she was crowned Empress, I have been consumed by endless fear."

"I fear my life being destroyed by her, I fear my family being suppressed by her, I fear my child living forever in her shadow… The more secure her position in the imperial harem, the greater her influence in the court, the more terrified I become."

"The Prince fails to see through her, but I know—her eyes burn with ambition and desire. Every choice she makes is a step toward greater power."

"A life ablaze with ambition and desire—so dazzling, so radiant.

But what if you are not an admiring bystander, but the fuel that may very well be devoured by the flames, fueling their unchecked fury?

"I, the Prince, Yuanyuan, the Liu Duke's household… we are all obstacles in her path to power.

"In her choices, I see her pursuit of power. And in my fear of her, I too have begun my own pursuit of power.

"She and I—we cannot coexist.

"When I rise, she falls.

"When her time comes to rise, it will be my turn to fall."

At this, Liu Qiao smiled again, as if speaking to Nanny Zhuang, or perhaps to her reflection in the mirror: "By dawn, all will be decided."

"Nanny Zhuang, help me dress. These mourning robes are too drab—I won’t wear them."

Nanny Zhuang murmured assent. As she picked up the wooden comb and began to brush Liu Qiao’s hair, she spotted stark white strands. She said nothing, carefully weaving each one into the dark tresses.

Once the braiding was done, Nanny Zhuang asked, "The seamstresses in the manor have made several new autumn robes for you, my lady. Would you like to try them on?"

"No. I won't wear new clothes."

Liu Qiao said, "Bring me my ceremonial consort robes instead."

While Nanny Zhuang went to retrieve the garments, Liu Qiao picked up a box of kohl and slowly lined her brows.

Once fully adorned in regalia, she pulled open the bottom drawer on the left and took out a palm-sized jade vial.

Nanny Zhuang instinctively reached to stop her. "My lady—"

"I know what I'm doing."

Liu Qiao spoke calmly. "From the moment I resolved to take this step, there were only two outcomes. Either I succeed and become Empress Emerita, or all is lost, and I become a stepping stone for Huo Ling’s rise to power.

"That's why I must wear these most solemn robes—to greet either rebirth or death."

She tucked the vial into her sleeve before picking up a string of prayer beads beside her. "Let us wait in the hall for news," she said to Nanny Zhuang.

The censer burned incense from the Great Xiangguo Temple. Liu Qiao sat quietly, listening to the rain outside while turning the beads in her fingers. Suddenly, memories of her childhood surfaced.

Her grandmother, the Duchess of Liu, was a devout Buddhist. Before her passing, Liu Qiao often accompanied her to temples.

But she herself never believed. Even after offering countless sticks of incense in the Grand Hall, it was all for show.

She had no need to rely on faith for inner peace, nor to beg the gods to fulfill her desires—

Because she was born into the Duke of Liu’s household, mastering music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. At a single flower-viewing banquet, she dazzled all and claimed the title of "the Capital’s foremost talented lady."

Yet when had she begun to understand her grandmother, and become a regular visitor to the temples?

"My Lady, would you like some water?" asked Nanny Zhuang, the elderly maid, with concern as she saw her open her eyes.

Liu Qiao shook her head. "What time is it?"

Nanny Zhuang glanced at the nearby water clock. "It’s the hour of the rat—midnight."

Liu Qiao wound her rosary beads back around her wrist, rose, and walked to the door, pushing open the half-closed entrance.

The Royal Guard stationed outside turned their heads slightly at the sound, but seeing no orders from Liu Qiao, resumed their solemn stance.

In the days immediately after Prince Duan's disappearance, Liu Qiao had dispatched most of the guards from Prince Duan’s manor to search for him.

But once she concluded that Prince Duan had fallen into Huo Ling’s hands, she recalled them all.

Standing by the door, Liu Qiao peered through the night toward the direction of the imperial palace.

If all went well, her grandfather and the others should have already stormed the palace...

Just as this thought surfaced, a sudden shrill scream tore through the eerie silence of Prince Duan’s manor.

Her eyebrow flickered.

The Royal Guards beside her also grew alert.

One of them said, "My Lady, that scream seems to have come from the main gate."

Before Liu Qiao could respond, a signal arrow shot into the sky from the direction of the main gate, shattering the manor’s stillness.

Liu Qiao’s expression hardened. “With me—let’s see what’s happening.”

The group passed through the long corridor and arrived at the front courtyard, where the sounds previously muffled by the heavy rain finally reached their ears.

The thunder of uniform hoofbeats, successive screams, and faint shouts of “Enemy attack!” and “Hold the line!” filled the air.

As they rounded the corner, they spotted a lightly wounded Royal Guard ahead.

Seeing Liu Qiao and the others, the wounded guard’s eyes lit up, and he shouted before reaching them: “My Lady, a troop of elite Swallow Feather Army soldiers has surrounded the manor. We tried to stop them, but they took the chance to cut down many of us.”

“They’re now calling for our surrender. The captain says they outnumber us—we may not hold out.”

Liu Qiao bit her lip hard, using the pain to stay focused. “Did they identify themselves?”

“Yes,” rasped the wounded guard. “They claim to be the *Swallow Feather Army*.”

A gust of wind roared up, violently shaking the lanterns hanging along the corridor until they could bear no more. They were blown away, tumbling through the air before crashing to the ground. The flames inside guttered and died.

Darkness swallowed the courtyard, and the last shred of hope in Liu Qiao’s heart vanished.

Nanny Zhuang, realizing the urgency, couldn’t help but plead sorrowfully, “My Lady, the guards at the gate can hold out for a while longer. Take this chance to escape through the secret passage.”

Liu Qiao closed her eyes heavily—but only for a moment. Then she opened them again. “Enough, Nanny. Today, I will live or die with this manor.”

She would not flee, nor would she surrender without resistance.

Liu Qiao was resolved to go down fighting—but resolve alone was often not enough.

The one leading the *Swallow Feather Army* to besiege Prince Duan’s manor was none other than the Capital Magistrate, Qiu Hongzhen.

The Royal Guards of Prince Duan's manor were all elite troops selected from the military, but even the finest elites would fall back step by step when facing the overwhelmingly outnumbering Swallow Feather Army.

After the Swallow Feather Army launched a relentless assault for nearly an hour, the Royal Guards of Prince Duan's manor could no longer hold. The few remaining guards protected Liu Qiao as they fell back in disarray toward the interior.

After breaking through the massive vermilion gate of the manor, Qiu Hongzhen personally led a group of men inside to pursue.

Along the way, they encountered many servants carrying bundles, their faces filled with terror as they fled in panic.

Qiu Hongzhen ignored them, untroubled by the possibility that any important figures might be disguised among the fleeing servants.

The Swallow Feather Army surrounding the perimeter was not to be underestimated.

Until the situation was resolved, they would not harm these servants, but neither would they allow them to leave Prince Duan’s manor, not even a single step.

Protected by the captain of the guards, Liu Qiao once again retreated back into the main hall.

Apart from Liu Qiao and Nanny Zhuang, most of the others bore minor injuries.

The small piece of incense thrown into the censer had already burned out, the thick scent of blood drowning out the tranquil sandalwood fragrance.

Liu Qiao ordered the captain of the guards and the rest to take positions outside, then staggered to the table, reaching out to touch the teapot—only to find it ice-cold.

Nanny Zhuang understood what Liu Qiao intended, her eyes moist with emotion. “This servant will bring a new pot of hot water for Her Highness.”

Liu Qiao shook out her tattered sleeve, which had been pierced by an arrow.

Had the captain of the guards not yanked her out of the way at the last moment, that arrow would have gone straight through her.

“This is the end. Why bother with formalities?”

Liu Qiao drew a jade vial from her sleeve, pulled out the stopper, and was about to dump the powder inside into a cup.

Nanny Zhuang suddenly spoke: "My Lady, you've feared the dark since childhood. Let me go with you to the afterlife."

Liu Qiao’s right hand trembled slightly, but she said nothing. Instead of pouring the powder into the cup, she dumped it into the teapot.

She tossed the empty jade vial aside—it rolled from the edge of the table to the corner. Then Liu Qiao lifted the teapot and poured two cups of tea.

The clash of battle was at the door. Liu Qiao picked up her cup and gave a bitter smile. “Nanny, I’ve wronged you.”

Nanny Zhuang smiled gently, her gaze full of tenderness. “If I hadn’t been fortunate enough to become Your Highness’s wet nurse, Cang’er and I would have perished long ago.”

“That child Cang’er has long since married and had children. The estate has granted him many fine gifts over the years. Him? I’ve no worries left.”

“But you, my lady—I can’t bear to leave you.”

Liu Qiao pressed her lips together, swallowing back the sob that threatened to escape.

Nanny Zhuang beat her to it, draining her cup in one gulp.

Liu Qiao’s eyes stung, and she followed suit.

As the teacups hit the floor and shattered, someone kicked the door open from outside with force.

Qiu Hongzhen stood at the threshold, his face paling at the sight of Liu Qiao taking poison. He’d sworn to the Empress Dowager he’d bring her back alive.

Beside him, someone reacted faster.

A young officer clad in Swallow Feather Army armor rushed past Qiu Hongzhen, darting to Liu Qiao’s side. Ignoring Nanny Zhuang, who had already drunk the poisoned tea, he swiftly pinned Liu Qiao down, clamped her jaw open with one hand, dug inside her mouth, then pounded her back repeatedly.

Liu Qiao's fierce desire for death could not overcome her body’s natural reflexes.

As Liu Qiao leaned over the table, vomiting, Qiu Hongzhen finally regained his composure.

He shouted outside, “Where’s the medic? Get the medic here now!”

While his subordinates hurried off to find the medic, Qiu Hongzhen stood still for a moment before turning to the young general. “Commander Chen, I leave this matter in your hands. I must go to the palace immediately to report to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.”

...

When Qiu Hongzhen met Huo Ling, she had just finished speaking with Wu Feng.

After summarizing the situation at Prince Duan’s residence, Qiu Hongzhen quickly bowed and said, “I was careless and nearly ruined Your Majesty’s plans.”

Huo Ling tilted her head and instructed Zheng Xinjue nearby, “Hand the quiver you have to Lord Qiu.”

Qiu Hongzhen took the quiver, looking puzzled.

Huo Ling said, “You and Wu Feng will come with me to Prince Duan’s residence.”

...

The moment Liu Qiao saw Huo Ling inside the mansion, she knew that the Duke of Liu and Ji Yuanwan must have already been captured by Huo Ling.

Otherwise, Huo Ling would never have risked leaving the Young Emperor alone in the palace.

Liu Qiao slumped in her chair, her face ghostly pale, barely breathing, her entire body soaked in cold sweat as if pulled from water.

Earlier, after ingesting the poison, she had been forced to gag by the young general, vomiting repeatedly. Just when she managed to stop, the medic used acupuncture needles, causing her to vomit again. Eventually, she could no longer bring up even bile, only dry heaving—until they finally left her alone.

She glanced at Nanny Zhuang, who was lifeless, and a flash of grief flickered across her eyes. Trembling, she gripped the armrests tightly, straining to sit upright.

In front of Huo Ling, she wouldn’t let herself look broken—even though this was the most wretched moment of her life.

Huo Ling followed Liu Qiao’s gaze toward Nanny Zhuang. “What poison was it?”

Liu Qiao: “Arsenic.”

Huo Ling: “You acted fast.”

Liu Qiao gripped her raw throat. “How could I compare to you? The moment you sensed something wrong, you moved against Ji Hanhang immediately.”

Huo Ling went still.

Seeing her expression, Liu Qiao hesitated—then seemed to realize something. She laughed, but her voice came out as a guttural, mocking croak.

“What, did he never tell you his name? Or did you hear it and never bother to remember?”

Huo Ling replied calmly, “He is dead.”

Liu Qiao recoiled, gaping at Huo Ling in disbelief.

She and the Duke of Liu had suspected Prince Duan had fallen into Huo Ling’s hands, but they had assumed he was under house arrest—not that they had never dreamed he was already dead.

No…

Perhaps it wasn't that they hadn't considered it.

Rather, they had thought of it but couldn't bring themselves to believe that Huo Ling had the audacity to carry out a prince's execution without trial, so their minds automatically rejected the possibility.

"...When did he die?"

Huo Ling was more than willing to answer Liu Qiao: "That day after he visited the Great Xiangguo Temple, I used the white-deer jade pendant he once gave me to invite him for wine and a game of chess in the courtyard beside the temple. He gladly accepted, and then died at my hands."

Liu Qiao had thought she would feel nothing more than indifference toward Prince Duan, but upon hearing Huo Ling’s words, her face contorted with rage, as if she wanted to tear Prince Duan apart with her bare hands.

"I warned him."

"I clearly told him that He Tai was a warning."

"Why... why was he still foolish enough to walk right into your trap..."

"Perhaps because," Huo Ling replied, "I was his obsession."

Prince Duan had once believed power and she were both at his fingertips.

But when confronted with the might of the imperial throne, he realized how naïve he had been.

To him, she was more than just a former lover—she had become a symbol of power.

Owning her would have been like stealing power from Emperor Jingyuan himself.

"Obsession..." Liu Qiao let out a bitter laugh. "So in the end, what I couldn’t defeat was his obsession."