All Wrong

Lin Qingyan stood outside the bedchamber, letting the night wind lift her sleeves.

The wind swept through the corridor, carrying the unique chill of the late night, brushing across her cheeks, and finally bringing a thread of clarity to her tangled thoughts.

Those two statements she had made were her stance and her warning.

But even so, she could never truly harm Luo Zhao.

After all, Luo Zhao was her sister’s daughter, the only bloodline left.

Thinking of this, Lin Qingyan let out a long sigh.

Regret, helplessness, and a trace of absurdity she was unwilling to admit—all tangled within her.

The conversation from the hall just now replayed in her mind like a spinning lantern.

On the way from the Silent Thought Tower to the Crown Prince’s Palace, Lin Qingyan had imagined many possibilities.

Perhaps Luo Zhao would deny it, make excuses, play dumb, and push everything away cleanly.

Or maybe she would confess but offer all sorts of explanations—for the sake of the court, to secure her position as heir, to share her father’s burdens. These lofty justifications were now second nature to Luo Zhao, spoken without batting an eye.

But Lin Qingyan had never expected Luo Zhao to confess so bluntly.

Not only did she admit to targeting Gu Chengyin, but she also acknowledged her hatred for him.

A hatred so deep she wanted to drag her own shaoshi—her tutor—from his lofty pedestal into the mud.

Lin Qingyan lifted her head to gaze at the full moon suspended high in the sky.

The moonlight flowed like water, quietly illuminating the Crown Prince’s Palace, the sacred capital, and all the living beings under heaven.

Its light was cold and distant, just like that person’s eyes.

Forever indifferent, forever gentle, forever impossible to read.

Gu Chengyin.

The name circled in her mind, and Lin Qingyan’s brows furrowed slightly.

When did Luo Zhao’s hatred for Gu Chengyin begin?

Was it the first time he looked at her with those indifferent eyes?

Or the first time he personally guided her in her studies?

Or perhaps when Luo Zhao realized that no matter what she did, Gu Chengyin’s gaze would never rest on her?

Lin Qingyan didn’t know.

All she knew was that Luo Zhao’s cunning and methods had improved far too much.

Using Emperor Luo’s name as a cover, hiding behind Cui Shifan, she buried herself deep in the shadows.

Time and again, she struck, each blow landing precisely on Gu Chengyin’s weaknesses, yet she always slipped away unscathed.

If not for Lin Qingyan’s sharp intuition, if not for how well she knew Luo Zhao, even Gu Chengyin himself would not have suspected her by now.

A complex light flickered in Lin Qingyan’s eyes.

She knew better than anyone how perceptive Gu Chengyin was.

Like a lone wolf lurking in the dark, seemingly nonchalant but always alert to every stir in the surroundings.

Any anomaly could not escape his notice.

Any flaw would be seized upon, tearing the prey to shreds.

Yet here was a man like that, and despite Luo Zhao’s repeated strikes, he had not immediately pinpointed her.

Or perhaps it was because, in Gu Chengyin’s eyes, Luo Zhao’s threat was no greater than a dog’s.

Lin Qingyan’s gaze suddenly froze.

No.

Something was wrong.

If Luo Zhao truly hated to the bone, enough to want to tear Gu Chengyin down by her own hands, then why would she be so open?

Why would she lay all her cards on the table?

Wasn’t she afraid that Lin Qingyan would go back and tell Gu Chengyin?

Wasn’t she afraid that the conversation would be relayed word for word to that man?

Lin Qingyan’s frown deepened, and the night wind could not dispel the fog shrouding her heart.

Luo Zhao had learned too much from Gu Chengyin.

Scheming, calculation, human nature, strategy—everything.

No one knew what was truly on Luo Zhao’s mind.

No one knew what she was plotting.

Perhaps...

Lin Qingyan’s heart sank.

Perhaps that whole confrontation was deliberately orchestrated by Luo Zhao.

Perhaps from the moment she set foot in the Crown Prince’s Palace, she had already fallen into Luo Zhao’s trap.

Lin Qingyan was not skilled in these things.

She was more accustomed to resolving matters through strength rather than cunning.

But that didn’t mean she was a fool, or that she couldn’t trace the logic.

Step by step, she began to follow the thread.

If Gu Chengyin learned that the hand behind the scenes was Luo Zhao, what would he do?

As soon as this thought surfaced, Lin Qingyan froze.

What would Gu Chengyin do?

Rage? Disappointment?

No.

Lin Qingyan immediately dismissed those possibilities.

Gu Chengyin never lost his composure to anger, never let disappointment throw him into chaos.

In the face of any change, he could always find, in the shortest time, the path most advantageous to him.

So what would he do?

Run away?

The moment this idea emerged, Lin Qingyan’s expression shifted.

How dare he!

A nameless fire flared from deep within her, chilling Lin Qingyan’s eyes.

Gu Chengyin might have reached the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage, and he might have some tricks up his sleeve, but could he escape?

No.

He couldn’t.

Because she wouldn’t allow it.

From the first time Gu Chengyin stirred a ripple in her heart, she had never allowed him to leave.

And she certainly wouldn’t let him slip from the palm of her hand.

Lin Qingyan’s gaze flickered, the chill gradually fading.

Since he couldn’t run, then the only option was...

Join the Second Prince’s faction to oppose Luo Zhao?

When this idea came to mind, Lin Qingyan was utterly stunned.

The Second Prince.

Li Shiyuan.

Dawn City.

Back in Dawn City, Gu Chengyin’s attitude toward Li Shiyuan—those subtle gestures of goodwill, those ambiguous interactions—what did they mean?

Had Gu Chengyin foreseen something?

Had he known, long ago, that a day would come when he would need the Second Prince’s power to counter Luo Zhao?

Lin Qingyan’s pupils contracted slightly.

No.

If that were the case, Gu Chengyin would have gone straight to the Second Prince when he received the imperial decree.

A man as clever as him wouldn’t reject an obvious ally, only to turn to him when cornered.

But if it wasn’t foresight, what was it?

Lin Qingyan couldn’t figure it out.

She stood still, letting the night wind tousle her sleeves and hair, yet it could not blow away the myriad thoughts churning within her.

She didn’t know what Luo Zhao or Gu Chengyin were thinking.

All she knew was that Gu Chengyin could neither run nor defect to the Second Prince.

As for Luo Zhao...

Lin Qingyan suddenly smiled.

In the moonlight, it looked partly helpless, partly absurd, and deeply complicated.

She finally understood why Luo Zhao dared to reveal everything.

On one side was the only daughter of her sister.

The heir to the throne, whom she had watched grow up, whose face resembled her own.

The little girl she had once held in her arms, taught to speak, taught to walk.

On the other side was the man she deeply loved.

The one who showed her what it meant to have a racing heart, what it meant to care, what it meant to be unable to let go.

The one for whom she uttered “I love him” without hesitation, without reservation.

When these two sides stood in opposition, Lin Qingyan was caught in the middle—torn, trapped between advance and retreat.

Whatever she did was wrong, however she acted was a mistake.