......
The sunlight beyond the window had shifted a little farther west. The light filtering through the latticework had taken on a richer golden hue, bathing everything in the hall in a soft radiance.
Agarwood smoke drifted slowly through the shafts of light, tracing countless invisible patterns.
When Gu Xiaoli returned from outside with the medicine for soothing the throat, she pushed open the hall doors and stepped lightly over the threshold, her skirt swaying gently around her ankles.
In her hands, she carried a small celadon medicine bottle. A seal from the Imperial Medical Bureau was affixed to its body, the cinnabar stamp bright as blood.
The scene inside the hall seemed no different from when she had left.
Gu Chengyin was seated to one side, with a desk between him and Luo Zhao.
His posture was relaxed, his back resting against the chair. One hand lay on the armrest, while the other rested on his knee.
His gaze was fixed on some point in the air, his expression calm and composed, with even the corners of his lips faintly curved upward.
He looked exactly like a cultivator who had lost himself in contemplation of the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth.
Luo Zhao, meanwhile, had her head lowered. She held a vermilion brush in her hand, with a memorial spread open before her on the desk.
Her back was perfectly straight, her bearing dignified and focused. The vermilion brush moved steadily across the page, leaving behind neat, elegant annotations.
Everything appeared perfectly normal.
And yet Gu Xiaoli still sensed that something was off. After all, she was no ordinary person.
Her gaze swept around the hall, moving from Gu Chengyin to Luo Zhao, then from Luo Zhao back to Gu Chengyin.
Her brows drew together slightly, and the tip of her nose twitched faintly, as though she were scenting the air.
Gu Xiaoli also noticed that Luo Zhao’s lips seemed rosier than when she had left.
It was not the kind of red produced by lip rouge, but the flush left behind by some sort of friction.
Her collar was perfectly neat as well, yet there was something about that neatness that suggested it had only just been put back in order.
The angle of the collar, the symmetry of the lapels, the tightness of the sash—everything was too perfect.
So perfect that her clothes no longer looked as though she had worn them all day. Rather, they looked as if someone had just carefully dressed her.
Gu Xiaoli set the medicine bottle on the desk. When the bottom of the celadon bottle touched the rosewood surface, it gave off a crisp click.
Then she looked left and right in confusion, her gaze passing between Gu Chengyin and Luo Zhao several times.
At last, she said, “Your Highness, the imperial physician said this medicine is good for your throat.”
Gu Xiaoli’s voice was soft and sweet, carrying both concern and a hint of probing.
As she spoke, her large eyes remained fixed on Luo Zhao without blinking.
Luo Zhao did not raise her head. She merely gave a muffled hum.
Afterward, she pressed her lips tightly together, as though afraid that saying even one more word would give something away.
At that moment, Gu Chengyin came back to himself. His gaze returned from the empty air and settled on the small celadon medicine bottle on the desk.
The Imperial Medical Bureau’s seal remained perfectly intact, its cinnabar stamp as bright as when it had first been applied.
He reached out, picked up the bottle, turned it once between his fingers, and then set it back where it had been.
At the same time, he rose and said, “I’m going to the Celestial Master’s Residence. Aunt should have everything arranged by now.”
“The appointment of the Chief Court Lady can wait a little. Zilu isn’t in the divine capital at the moment.”
“Xiaoli, help Her Highness for the time being.”
Gu Xiaoli nodded. Her gaze lingered on Gu Chengyin’s face for a moment.
Then it shifted to Luo Zhao, and back again. The trace of curiosity in her eyes had not yet faded completely.
But she asked no questions. She simply obediently agreed.
Just then, Gu Chengyin suddenly bent down.
Gu Xiaoli felt a warm touch land on her forehead.
Gu Chengyin’s lips brushed lightly against her brow.
Then he raised a hand and ruffled her hair until it was slightly tousled.
“This will be hard work for you, Xiaoli.”
Gu Xiaoli immediately brightened at his words.
She no longer cared whether something had happened between Gu Chengyin and Luo Zhao.
Her large eyes curved into crescents, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile so brilliant it seemed to light up the entire hall.
She even rose slightly onto her toes and rubbed the top of her head against Gu Chengyin’s palm, like a cat seeking affection from its owner after being petted.
Then she nodded emphatically, so hard that the ribbon at the back of her head swayed several times.
Gu Xiaoli said earnestly, “Don’t worry, Big Brother. As long as Xiaoli is here, nothing will happen to Her Highness.”
As she spoke, her bright eyes shone with pride and a sense of responsibility at having been entrusted with such an important task.
Gu Chengyin nodded and withdrew his hand from the top of Gu Xiaoli’s head.
His gaze moved away from Gu Xiaoli and turned toward Luo Zhao.
Luo Zhao still had her head lowered. The vermilion brush was still in her hand, and the memorial was still spread out before her.
Her bearing was dignified and focused, as though nothing had happened just now—as though she had been diligently attending to official business all along.
Gu Chengyin looked at her, the curve of his lips deepening.
His gaze paused for a moment on Luo Zhao’s lips. They were indeed rosier than usual.
Then it lingered for another moment on her excessively neat collar. It really did look as though it had only just been put back in order.
“Your Highness, I’ll be leaving now.”
Gu Chengyin’s tone was perfectly proper. Every word was spoken with impeccable decorum, leaving no room for criticism.
Only then did Luo Zhao raise her head. Her face showed no particular emotion, and her brows and eyes still carried that same cold, aloof severity.
Her gaze met Gu Chengyin’s. After a brief exchange, she looked away.
Pretending that nothing had happened, she spoke in the reserved tone befitting a Crown Princess.
“Mm. Go.”
Her voice was dignified and cool, every word seeming to have been drawn from an icy spring, carrying all the restraint and distance expected of a Crown Princess.
Yet beneath that coolness hid a trace of huskiness, like silk lightly polished by sandpaper—soft, with a warmth only Gu Chengyin could detect.
Looking at Luo Zhao as she deliberately maintained her composure, Gu Chengyin’s smile grew a little wider.
Only he knew what kind of contrast lay beneath Luo Zhao’s cold, aloof exterior.
She was even more extreme in that regard than Lin Qingyan.
Gu Chengyin turned and walked toward the hall doors.
Although the situation had already become clear, the necessary steps still had to be taken.
After all, neither official positions nor cultivation would simply fall from the heavens. They had to be fought for.
Gu Xiaoli watched Gu Chengyin’s back disappear through the hall doors. Then she withdrew her gaze and looked toward Luo Zhao.
Luo Zhao had already lowered her head again. The vermilion brush glided across the official document, leaving behind neat, elegant annotations without the slightest tremor.
Gu Xiaoli tilted her head.
She looked at Luo Zhao’s excessively rosy lips, then at her excessively neat collar, and finally at the small celadon medicine bottle on the desk.
Although the imperial physician had said that the medicine was good for the throat, Gu Xiaoli suddenly felt that it was no longer necessary.
After all, Her Highness had already taken her medicine.
g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
