Reflect Well

Lin Qingyan suddenly felt a pang of shame.

She was the Jingzhe of the Heavenly Master Mansion, a Golden Core cultivator with undisputed prowess.

Yet what she had just done—what had it been but the petty antics of a jealous woman in some deep household?

If Gu Xiaoli was immature, that was one thing. But why had she, too, stooped to such a level?

If Luo Zhao could bear to be a concubine, then why couldn't she, Lin Qingyan, tolerate another?

The moment that thought surfaced, Lin Qingyan startled even herself.

She hurriedly pushed it back down, but the thought was like wild grass.

Cut one patch down and another grew right back, impossible to wipe out completely.

At that very moment, Luo Zhao finally snapped out of her daze.

Her first instinct was—she had to clarify.

That wasn't what she meant.

No, more accurately, she had never intended to be a concubine in the first place.

What she'd said earlier was meant to trap Gu Chengyin, to watch him squirm on the back of a tiger, to make the drama richer and juicier.

When had she ever said she genuinely agreed to be the lesser wife?

She was a crown princess, for heaven's sake! How could she possibly play second fiddle to anyone?!

Luo Zhao opened her mouth, the words already at the tip of her tongue.

"I didn't—"

But before she could utter more than three words, a hand shot out and cut her off.

Gu Chengyin moved faster than she could track.

So fast, she didn't even see how he did it.

One moment he stood a few steps away, looking utterly composed.

The next, he was right before her, seizing her hand in his grip.

Then Gu Chengyin pulled her along and strode out.

Three steps at a time, his movements fluid and unbroken.

The motion was bold enough to sweep Luo Zhao completely into his stride.

She felt a tug at her wrist and was dragged forward before she could think.

Her steps stumbled once, then corrected themselves in a fluster as she hurried to match Gu Chengyin's pace.

And as he walked, he didn't forget to glance back at Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli with a parting remark.

"You two stay here and reflect properly. Come find me when you've thought things through."

"Your Highness, let's go see His Majesty's edict."

Gu Chengyin's tone was utterly natural, as natural as a schoolmaster scolding two errant students.

You two meditate on your mistakes in there—come see me only when you've figured it out.

The sole student who hadn't erred, however, was kept by his side to handle other matters separately.

But that solitary "good student," Luo Zhao, was now utterly bewildered.

Her wrist was held by Gu Chengyin as he led her forward.

Yet her mind was still stuck on the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded, completely unable to process what had happened.

She only remembered that she'd tried to explain herself, and then Gu Chengyin had come over.

Then her hand was seized, and she was pulled away.

Gu Chengyin had moved too fast.

From the moment she opened her mouth to the moment he dragged her off, only a few breaths had passed.

As if he'd anticipated what she was about to say, and had already prepared a response in advance.

The instant she began to speak, he struck—never giving her the chance to finish a single sentence.

This wasn't improvisation. This was premeditation!

Luo Zhao was tugged by Gu Chengyin through the corridor, around the courtyard, and onto a bluestone path.

She instinctively glanced back to see Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli standing where they'd been left, their figures growing smaller and farther away.

Lin Qingyan had her head lowered, lost in thought.

Gu Xiaoli was looking in her direction, her big eyes brimming with complicated emotions—something like envy, and something like hurt.

Then the two vanished entirely around the bend.

Out of sight.

Luo Zhao withdrew her gaze, and before she could sort out her thoughts, found herself already dragged back into the main hall.

Inside, aloeswood incense burned, its curling smoke rising lazily in the afternoon sunlight, cloaking the entire hall in a thin, fragrant haze.

Light filtered through the lattice windows, casting checkered patterns on the floor, carving the hall into alternating zones of brightness and shadow.

Gu Chengyin released her hand.

Then Luo Zhao watched as this Red Egg, as she called him, let out an obvious sigh of relief.

As though he'd expelled a lungful of pent-up stale air in one go.

His shoulders eased downward, the spine that had been ramrod straight loosening slightly.

He stepped out of that composed and collected facade.

Revealing beneath it a layer of barely concealed tension and lingering dread.

"Good thing I was quick on my feet," Gu Chengyin said.

His voice carried the tone of someone who'd just narrowly escaped the edge of a cliff.

Or someone marveling at having survived once more by the skin of his teeth.

As he spoke, he even raised a hand to wipe at sweat that wasn't actually there on his forehead.

The gesture was exaggerated, deliberately theatrical—as if he were trying to tease someone.

Luo Zhao's eyes went wide.

She stared in disbelief at this man who was clearly relieved, even in the mood for jokes.

Her lips trembled. Her chest heaved violently.

An emotion called fury was swelling and spreading through her ribs at an alarming rate.

This Red Egg's schemes ran far too deep!

The whole mess was his fault, this philandering scoundrel!

First, he'd turned Gu Xiaoli's head with his charm, making her fall for him.

Then he'd gone and tangled with Lin Qingyan, and now the imperial edict had arrived.

Two women collide, chaos erupts.

And Gu Chengyin, the root cause of it all—instead of owning up to his own problem—

Instead... instead, he'd told Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli to reflect on their own faults!

Luo Zhao mulled over Gu Chengyin's earlier words again and again in her mind.

The more she chewed on them, the more absurd they seemed.

Is this what a man who sparked a love feud should be saying?

And even more absurd—Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli would probably actually reflect.

And after reflecting, they'd likely come back to Gu Chengyin and apologize on their own.

Luo Zhao knew these two too well.

Lin Qingyan might be straightforward, but she was also fiercely proud—and the most reasonable of the lot.

Gu Chengyin's words had painted Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli as the immature ones, and placed Luo Zhao as the understanding one. Knowing Lin Qingyan's nature, she'd want to prove she was no less virtuous than Luo Zhao, and would reflect on her own mistakes without prompting.

And Gu Xiaoli needed no convincing—this cat-eared girl was obedient to Gu Chengyin to the point of blindness.

If Gu Chengyin told her to reflect, she'd probably already be cursing herself eight hundred times over in her own head.

Is this right?

This isn't right! .

Luo Zhao grew more unsettled the more she thought, more aggrieved with every passing moment.

She'd come to watch Gu Chengyin make a fool of himself, to witness him run ragged in a corner, struggling to decide.

And instead, she'd been turned into the lesson used to discipline Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli?

Instead, she'd become the tool he used to defuse the crisis?

And now, here she was—Lin Qingyan and Gu Xiaoli off reflecting—while she'd been dragged here.

To face a Gu Chengyin who was clearly breathing easy, grateful for his own quick thinking.