She simply sat there in silence, her brows and eyes still bearing the same cold, proud, and solitary expression befitting a Crown Princess.
Yet her gaze followed Gu Chengyin’s retreating figure until he disappeared completely into the bright sunlight.
Only after she could no longer see him did Luo Zhao withdraw her gaze.
She did not immediately return to her official duties. Instead, she remained silent for a moment.
Then she raised her head and looked at Gu Xiaoli, who was seated not far away.
“When did he arrive?”
Her voice had returned to its usual cool composure. It was entirely different from the way she had sounded in front of Gu Chengyin just now.
Luo Zhao needed to know when Gu Chengyin had begun standing behind her.
She needed to know how long he had been watching her without her knowledge, and what he had seen.
Gu Xiaoli blinked, then tilted her head and thought for a moment.
Her spiritual cat ears twitched lightly, as though recalling the exact time.
Then she held up two fingers and, in her soft, sweet voice, gave a precise answer.
After receiving the exact time from Gu Xiaoli, Luo Zhao nodded.
Her gaze shifted away from Gu Xiaoli and fell upon the carefully folded packet of candied fruit on the desk.
The packet was made of oiled paper, its corners folded with great precision. More than half of the packet still contained dried apricots.
Each piece was coated in a fine layer of sugar, sparkling faintly in the light.
Luo Zhao’s fingers brushed lightly along the edge of the packet, touching the cool, smooth surface of the oiled paper.
She asked Gu Xiaoli, “I’m going to visit Mother. Would you like to come with me?”
At the mention of visiting her mother, Gu Xiaoli’s expression stiffened.
Her spiritual cat ears drooped, and her spiritual cat tail stopped swaying, hanging limply behind her.
The light in her large eyes dimmed, replaced by an expression mingling guilt and longing.
“Xiaoli won’t go.”
Gu Xiaoli’s voice was much quieter than usual. As she spoke, her eyes fell upon the tips of her toes.
She did not dare look at Luo Zhao, much less toward the direction outside the hall—the direction of a secluded side palace.
Luo Zhao was not surprised by her answer.
She rose from her seat, and her black-and-gold palace robes swayed lightly as she stood.
Leaving the main hall, she passed through several covered corridors, went around a small bamboo grove, and made her way toward a secluded side palace in the deepest part of the Crown Princess’s Palace.
The little palace was extremely remote—so remote that most palace attendants would never pass by it in their daily routines.
A thin layer of fallen leaves covered the path before the palace doors. The wind slipped through the bamboo grove, stirring a rustling sound.
The paint on the corridor pillars on either side had begun to flake, while a faint layer of dust veiled the lattice windows.
Everything seemed so quiet and lonely.
Only one elderly female official guarded the little palace.
Her silver hair was combed with meticulous neatness, and though her palace robes were old, they were spotless.
When she saw Luo Zhao approach alone, the old female official merely inclined her head in greeting before stepping aside.
Luo Zhao inclined her head in return, then entered the little palace.
The light inside was much dimmer than outside. Only a few eternal lamps burned quietly before the shrine, casting a faint, gentle glow.
The air was filled with the subtle fragrance of sandalwood, mingling with the bitter freshness of the bamboo grove outside as it drifted slowly through the silent space.
A memorial tablet stood within the palace.
It was made of fine ebony, black as ink from end to end. Several characters had been painted upon it in gold lacquer, each one upright and carefully inscribed.
Former Empress Lin’s Memorial Tablet.
Before the tablet sat a bronze incense burner. A thick layer of ash had accumulated inside it, with several burned-down incense sticks protruding from the remains.
Beside it rested a pair of plain white candles. Candle wax had formed layer upon layer upon the stands.
Luo Zhao lit the incense with practiced ease. She took a bundle of fresh incense from a small box beside the shrine and lit it from one of the eternal lamps.
She gently extinguished the flame and watched as the ember slowly spread along the incense, releasing a thin strand of blue-gray smoke.
Then she placed the incense into the bronze burner. The ash was soft and warm, and the incense sticks stood firmly within it.
The smoke rose in delicate spirals, drawing a straight line before the shrine.
When she had finished, Luo Zhao knelt on the worn prayer mat before the memorial tablet.
She folded her hands over her knees, kept her back perfectly straight, and fixed her gaze upon the golden characters carved into the tablet.
In a low murmur, she said, “Mother, Gu Chengyin was acting very strangely today. I don’t know what happened, but he was definitely strange.”
“He’s never cared about me before, yet today he suddenly came running to show concern.”
“That isn’t normal. Something must have happened.”
As she spoke, Luo Zhao went over everything that had just occurred.
Gu Chengyin had returned from the Grand Secretariat. He had not gone to the Celestial Master’s Office, but instead returned to the Crown Princess’s Palace.
He had not sent anyone to announce his arrival, nor had he entered through the main gate. Instead, he had gone around through the rear gate and stood behind her, watching her for most of the day.
Then he had sat down and given her a packet of candied fruit—the dried apricots she loved most.
After that, he had announced several major matters of state in one breath.
Finally, he had publicly declared in the Grand Secretariat that she was willing to become a secondary wife.
In truth, Luo Zhao had not taken any of these things to heart.
Whether Gu Chengyin recommended Xiao Yuliang, appointed Cui Zilu as Chief Female Official, or joined the Celestial Master’s Office that afternoon—none of it mattered to Luo Zhao.
He was her master. He could do whatever he wished.
She did not need to know the reason, nor did she need to know the process.
Even Gu Chengyin’s declaration in the Grand Secretariat that she was willing to become a secondary wife did not matter to her.
Her reputation, her dignity, the honor of being a Crown Princess—all of it had been surrendered the moment she offered her neck into Gu Chengyin’s hand.
So Luo Zhao truly did not care.
Let the people at court think whatever they wished. Let the great clans say whatever they pleased. She did not care.
The only thing she cared about was why Gu Chengyin had suddenly begun acting so strangely.
He had sneaked in, stood behind her watching for most of the day, and even gone out of his way to buy the candied fruit she loved.
There was no need to ask. Shangguan Yunying must have told Gu Chengyin.
Having served as Chief Female Official for so many years, Shangguan Yunying knew Luo Zhao’s preferences better than anyone.
After turning the matter over and over in her mind, Luo Zhao arrived at only one conclusion.
Gu Chengyin was concerned about her.
Not the concern of the Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince for the Crown Princess. Not the concern of a subject for Her Highness.
But the warm concern one person showed toward another.
It could even be said that Gu Chengyin was taking the initiative to draw closer to her.
That was bizarre.
Yes, to Luo Zhao, it was truly bizarre.
As the Crown Princess, Luo Zhao was someone everyone wished to draw closer to.
But Gu Chengyin was the one person who could never be included among them.
Gu Chengyin had never tried to win her over, never tried to please her, and never cared what she thought.
He only controlled her, used her, and treated her as a tool bearing the title of Crown Princess.
When something went against the norm, there was always a hidden cause.
Something must have happened—something that had forced Gu Chengyin to draw closer to her.
It was not because he had suddenly fallen for her. Not because he had suddenly discovered her virtues. Not because her obedience had moved him.
Gu Chengyin was not that kind of person.
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
