Highly Complementary

The moment Gu Chengyin asked this question, the hall fell into sudden silence.

Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying looked up almost simultaneously, and at the same time, they turned to look at each other.

The instant their gazes met, they saw the same answer in each other's eyes.

Because the answer was so certain—so certain that it needed no words to support it—it had already taken shape and surged forward in two completely different pairs of eyes.

Lin Qingyan's cold, clear eyes narrowed slightly, and deep within her pupils, Shangguan Yunying's face reflected back.

And in Shangguan Yunying's gentle, almond-shaped eyes, Lin Qingyan's calm, unruffled face was mirrored in return.

Four eyes met. A tacit understanding passed between them.

Then, once again simultaneously, both women curved the corners of their lips just slightly.

They both knew Luo Zhao too well—knew her not just to the bone, but to the very depths of her soul.

The reason Gu Chengyin asked this question was because his understanding of Luo Zhao was not deep.

From his perspective, Luo Zhao hated him.

Hated him to the bone—hated him with the kind of hatred that made her want to tear him limb from limb every time they met.

So Gu Chengyin believed that Luo Zhao might not agree.

After all, how could someone who hated you to the core possibly agree to become your wife?

That logic was sound.

But the premise was wrong.

Lin Qingyan lowered her eyelashes, her slender lashes casting a fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes.

She had watched Luo Zhao grow up, watched her go from an innocent little girl.

Step by step, she had grown into the cold, proud, and solitary Crown Prince that she was today.

So she understood Luo Zhao very well.

Understood the true meaning behind every look, every gesture, every word Luo Zhao spoke.

Understood the kind of tangled, winding heart that lay hidden behind those seemingly contradictory actions.

Did Luo Zhao hate Gu Chengyin?

Yes, she did.

That was beyond doubt.

But hatred and love were never two clearly separated paths.

In many moments, they intertwined and twisted together, like a tangled mess of threads.

Each contained within the other—impossible to sever, impossible to sort out.

Lin Qingyan recalled the way Luo Zhao looked every time she mentioned Gu Chengyin—those phoenix eyes churned with more than just hatred.

There was something else—something more complex, more intense, more unspeakable.

Luo Zhao herself might not have realized it. Or rather, she realized it but refused to admit it.

But Lin Qingyan saw it clearly and distinctly.

Shangguan Yunying was thinking about the same thing.

She had served as the chief female official for so many years, following Luo Zhao for all that time.

She had seen Luo Zhao at her most ragged, and she had seen Luo Zhao at her most radiant.

She knew Luo Zhao's secrets, and she understood Luo Zhao's heart.

Luo Zhao's feelings for Gu Chengyin—she knew them better than anyone.

It was an utter contradiction. The hatred was real, truly real.

But behind that hatred lurked something even more turbulent and overwhelming than hatred itself.

Luo Zhao might have been running from it, disguising herself with hatred.

Yet those subtle, unintentional details gave away her truest heart.

For instance, every time Luo Zhao mentioned Gu Chengyin, her voice would unconsciously soften just a little.

For instance, every time Luo Zhao saw Gu Chengyin, her gaze would unconsciously lock onto him and linger.

For instance, in those deep, quiet hours of the night, Luo Zhao would sit alone by the window, staring blankly at the bright moon hanging high in the sky, sitting there for most of the night.

These details—Luo Zhao thought she hid them well, but how could they ever escape Shangguan Yunying, who was by her side day after day?

So when Gu Chengyin asked that question, Shangguan Yunying already had her answer.

The answer was so certain that it needed no thought—it simply floated up to the surface of her mind.

The silence in the hall lasted only a few breaths.

But within those few breaths, Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying had already completed all their deliberation and judgment.

The look they exchanged was not merely about confirming each other's answers.

It was about confirming whether their understanding of Luo Zhao was in alignment.

Clearly, they were in alignment.

Complete alignment.

Lin Qingyan spoke first.

"Chengcheng, I think Zhao'er wouldn't refuse."

Lin Qingyan spoke slowly, each word deliberate, as if every syllable had been weighed with careful thought.

Her cold, clear eyes fixed on Gu Chengyin, her gaze calm and assured, without a trace of hesitation.

Shangguan Yunying followed up immediately in agreement:

"I think so too."

Her voice was softer than Lin Qingyan's, but her certainty was every bit as unwavering.

Two women—one as cold and crisp as frost, the other as gentle as water—gave exactly the same answer.

After hearing this, Gu Chengyin did not show any hint of surprise.

He merely nodded slightly, his expression as calm as ever.

The reason he asked the question was simply to confirm that Luo Zhao wouldn't cause any trouble.

He had never placed his bet on Luo Zhao to begin with.

In his mind, Luo Zhao's opinion was never the point.

This matter was clearly orchestrated by Emperor Luo.

As for Luo Zhao, she was nothing more than a chess piece being moved around.

With this Crown Prince's current level and ability, she was still incapable of deciding matters of her own life.

So the key was never whether Luo Zhao agreed or not.

It was what Emperor Luo intended to achieve through this matter.

As for the so-called imperial consort—just like Cui Shifan's marriage proposal, it was something to look at and then set aside.

The result wasn't the point; the process was.

Gu Chengyin raised his eyes, a sharp light flashing through them, and his entire demeanor shifted.

He transformed from the languid, carefree Grand Tutor into a strategist commanding the board.

This change was subtle—not deliberate, but naturally flowing out.

"Then let me say two things."

Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying both straightened their expressions at once.

They were all too familiar with this state of Gu Chengyin's.

When he wore this look and spoke in this tone,

it meant he had already thought through everything—and what he was about to say would be decisions and arrangements.

Shangguan Yunying sat up straight, hands folded neatly on her lap, her posture dignified and focused.

All the emotions in her almond-shaped eyes were gathered away, replaced by an almost instinctual seriousness.

Lin Qingyan too sat up straight.

Her cold, clear eyes fixed steadily on Gu Chengyin, her gaze calm and attentive, as if nothing else existed in the world but the man before her.

Gu Chengyin looked at the two of them, his gaze pausing on each of their faces for a brief moment.

Only after confirming that they were both listening intently did he slowly speak:

"First thing."

He looked at Lin Qingyan first, his gaze steady and his tone warm.

"Little aunt, Yunying is planning to resign from her position as chief female official."

As soon as these words landed, the air in the hall froze for an instant.

Lin Qingyan's pupils contracted slightly, then quickly returned to calm.

Gu Chengyin did not give them time to digest this. He continued:

"I want her to spend some time with Little aunt."

"After all, Little aunt is at the Golden Core stage with rich experience—this way, Yunying's breakthrough in the future will go more smoothly."

"Also, since she knows the Qingyun Art, I think the two of you are actually very complementary."

When his voice faded, the hall fell silent once again.

But this silence was different from the one before.

The previous silence was one of unspoken mutual understanding—whereas this silence

carried a touch of absurd shock and bewilderment.

Lin Qingyan was stunned.

Shangguan Yunying was stunned too.