The foreign envoys were utterly baffled. What on earth is the Emperor talking about?
But Yuwen Jing paid them no mind.
Qu Huashang, following closely behind Yuwen Jing, frowned at Ye Shaohua and sighed. “Sister Ye, why must you… go to such lengths?” Her voice dripped with pity, as if she couldn’t bear to witness Ye Shaohua’s actions, shaking her head mournfully.
Just as the imperial guards moved to seize Ye Shaohua, several black-clad figures appeared unexpectedly within the heavily guarded palace.
“Protect His Majesty!” the guards shouted.
The assassins seemed intent on rescuing Ye Shaohua, but when their leader’s throwing dagger missed her, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. After a brief hesitation, he abruptly shifted his attack toward Yuwen Jing.
The dagger shot silently toward Yuwen Jing’s right shoulder. He braced himself to take the hit—but then Ye Shaohua intercepted it, catching the blade with her bare hand.
Blood dripped from her palm.
Three of the assassins were captured, while one escaped.
On their bodies, the guards found tokens linking them to Ye Shaohua—a clumsy attempt at framing her. Yet it was the perfect excuse to strike at the Ye family.
As Yuwen Jing pondered the situation, he suddenly noticed a figure sitting across from him.
The man wore simple, unadorned robes, his features as serene as distant mountains. The sleeves of his garment spilled slightly onto the table, ink-black fabric blending into the shadows.
Yuwen Jing’s pupils contracted. “Seventh Brother? You haven’t left the palace yet?”
The Seventh Prince didn’t look at him. “I had some unfinished business. While I was here, I examined those three assassins for you. They’re from the Falling Star Pavilion.”
“The assassin guild?” Yuwen Jing’s expression darkened. Though he was an emperor, he had heard of the infamous organization. Once they accepted a contract, their targets never escaped alive.
The Seventh Prince nodded, his gaze cool and detached. “These three served under Lone Star, the second-ranked assassin in Falling Star Pavilion.”
“Lone Star?” Cold sweat trickled down Yuwen Jing’s back at the mention of the second-ranked killer. He gripped his teacup to steady himself, but his fingers trembled. “How do you know this?”
The Seventh Prince glanced at him, his voice icy. “I’m acquainted with their Pavilion Master.”
Even when he was still a prince, Yuwen Jing had heard of the Falling Star Pavilion’s fearsome reputation. He had even hired them for a few missions—but he had never met their elusive leader.
Rumors said the Pavilion Master was the most formidable martial artist in the realm, his internal energy unmatched.
Yet the Seventh Prince spoke of knowing him so casually. Yuwen Jing realized that even if Yuwen Yun left the palace, he could never afford to underestimate him.
“The Ye family has always been loyal,” the Seventh Prince said, his tone firm. “I doubt Consort Ye was behind this. Investigate properly.”
With that, he stood and left without another word.
Yuwen Jing stared after him, puzzled. Though the Seventh Prince had always been distant toward his siblings, this was the first time he had been so openly cold—almost as if he wanted to punch him.
Was he imagining it?
The captain of the imperial guards awaited orders. Considering Yuwen Yun’s credibility—he had no reason to lie, as he disdained such games—Yuwen Jing finally said, “Send a royal physician to Consort Ye.”
Then he leaned back in his chair, his eyes clouded with uncertainty.
He had treated Ye Shaohua harshly out of fear of the Ye family’s military power and disgust for her cruelty. Yet today, she had saved him without hesitation—just as she had many times before, despite everything he had done to her.
For the first time, he questioned whether he was making the right choice.
But the next day, Grand Tutor Qu and Yuwen Zhe came to see him after court.
“Your Majesty, why haven’t you thrown Ye Shaohua into the dungeons?” Yuwen Zhe didn’t even bother with formalities now. He hadn’t been present the previous night, busy entertaining the foreign envoys.
When he learned that Yuwen Jing hadn’t punished Ye Shaohua and had even sent a physician, he was furious.
Grand Tutor Qu, more cautious than Yuwen Zhe, bowed slightly. “Your Majesty, the Ye family is ambitious. General Ye will soon arrive at the palace. If we don’t act now, we may never get another chance…”
He left the implication hanging, but his meaning was clear.
His granddaughter was now Empress, and he trusted the Emperor’s affection for her. But as long as the Ye family stood, her position would never be secure.
They had come this far. If Yuwen Jing wavered now, all their efforts would be wasted.
Their words chipped away at Yuwen Jing’s resolve. The reminder of General Ye’s impending return hardened his heart.
The Ye family controlled too much military power. Human greed knew no bounds—Yuwen Jing didn’t believe General Ye would willingly surrender his authority.
And then there was Ye Shaohua. He had never loved her. Even without the military threat, Qu Huashang’s position as Empress would never be secure unless the Ye family was crushed.
With a final, merciless decision, Yuwen Jing ordered, “Throw Ye Shaohua into the dungeons. Extract a confession from her—by any means necessary.”
Only then did Yuwen Zhe and Grand Tutor Qu relax.
Yuwen Jing didn’t mention the Falling Star Pavilion. Unaware of the assassins’ true origins, Yuwen Zhe personally escorted Ye Shaohua to the prison.
Meanwhile, Shuangyue waited anxiously in the cold palace all night. When Ye Shaohua didn’t return, she panicked and soon learned of her mistress’s imprisonment.
With no allies left in the palace, Shuangyue had no one to turn to—except Sun Ping, a former subordinate Ye Shaohua had once trusted.
Now serving under Qu Huashang, Sun Ping had flourished. Unlike others, Qu Huashang had treated him with respect, assigning him important tasks. Within days, his loyalty had shifted entirely.
Seeing Shuangyue now, he sighed.
“Sun Ping, the Young Miss once saved your life,” Shuangyue said desperately. “Repay that debt now—help me deliver a letter outside the palace.”
But Sun Ping shook his head, his gaze almost pitying. “Shuangyue, out of gratitude for your past kindness, I’ll put in a word for you with Her Majesty. She’s merciful—she might take you in. Be smart. The Ye family is finished.”
