Special Agent’s Rebirth: The Almighty Goddess of Quick Transmigration - Chapter 207

Yuwen Zhe stared intently at Ye Shaohua’s face, searching for even a flicker of emotion.

Yet there was nothing.

No anger. No resentment. Not even fear.

Yuwen Zhe had spent half his life mastering politics, but none of his tactics worked on this woman.

“Yuwen…” Ye Shaohua set down her book, as if struggling to recall his name before finally uttering it with indifference, “Yuwen Zhe, what makes you think you can threaten me?”

For the first time, an expression surfaced on her face—but it wasn’t what Yuwen Zhe had expected.

It was mockery.

Even in her current predicament, she remained as infuriating as ever, he thought bitterly.

But when he tried to teach her a lesson, he realized—he couldn’t move.

When did this happen?

His eyes widened as he stared at Ye Shaohua, who regarded him with detached amusement. A sense of helplessness washed over him.

It was like preparing for a life-or-death battle, only to realize your opponent saw you as nothing more than a clown—unworthy of even her attention.

With skills like hers, how could Qu Huashang ever hope to compete?

Thinking this, Yuwen Zhe spoke coldly, “The court officials were the ones who demanded Qu Huashang be made Empress—she had nothing to do with it. If you’ve fallen this low, blame your own family’s bloody sins. Don’t take it out on her. What’s the point of resenting her when it’s my brother who despises you?”

Ye Shaohua let out a humorless laugh.

These Yuwen men truly believed her to be some simple-minded fool, easy to bully.

They thought she was jealous of Qu Huashang, that she’d target her out of spite.

“True, it’s pointless. So, can you convince Yuwen Jing to let me leave the palace?” She sat up, her gaze sharp.

Yuwen Zhe’s heart skipped a beat. Did she figure something out? Is that why she wants to leave?

No—there was no way. Only he and the Emperor knew the full extent of their plans. Ye Shaohua couldn’t possibly have uncovered their scheme against the General’s household.

Steadying himself, he dismissed the thought.

But Ye Shaohua didn’t wait for his reply. She called for Shuangyue and ordered her to throw him outside the Cold Palace.

Shuangyue hesitated.

Ye Shaohua extinguished the candle with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry. There’s no one within a hundred paces.”

Though terrified, Shuangyue obeyed without question. Trained since childhood under Ye Shaohua, she possessed remarkable strength and carried Yuwen Zhe effortlessly.

Fortunately, the Cold Palace was remote. As she hauled him away, she noticed—just as her mistress had said—not a soul in sight.

How did she know? Detecting movement within a hundred paces would require decades of martial mastery… Since when was Lady Ye this powerful?

Remembering Ye Shaohua’s instructions, she stopped near a tree and dumped Yuwen Zhe there.

Despite her anger, she dared not harm a prince too severely.

Glaring at him one last time, Shuangyue thought bitterly, If the General were still in the capital, my lady would never suffer this humiliation.

When she returned, Ye Shaohua wasn’t resting. She stood by the window, gazing outside.

“My… Lady?” Shuangyue caught herself, recalling Ye Shaohua’s request not to address her as “Consort” anymore.

Ye Shaohua glanced at the courtyard tree and smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. Go rest.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Shuangyue insisted, refusing to leave. After Yuwen Zhe’s intrusion, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her mistress unprotected.

Ye Shaohua raised a hand to reassure her but winced—her wounds still ached. Lowering her arm, she said softly, “I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“Someone far stronger than you is watching over me.” Ye Shaohua’s smile was cryptic.

The Next Day

News of Yuwen Zhe being beaten to a pulp and left in the palace gardens spread like wildfire. The maids whispered among themselves, and even Shuangyue heard the rumors.

“My lady,” she wondered aloud, “who do you think attacked Prince Rui?”

Ye Shaohua bit into an apple, idly sketching lines on the ground with a twig. “Divine retribution, perhaps.” She glanced up. “Shuangyue, what do you want to do in the future?”

“I just want to stay with you,” Shuangyue replied earnestly. “You once spoke of roaming the world with a sword, but…”

She trailed off. Both of them knew escape from the palace was impossible.

Qu Huashang, too, learned of the incident.

When her maid mentioned it, her hand froze mid-pour, tea spilling onto the carpet unnoticed. “Prince Rui was… attacked?”

“Yes. Strangely, His Majesty isn’t investigating,” the maid whispered. “And offerings appeared at the late Emperor’s shrine—no one knows who placed them. The guards are saying it’s his spirit returning.”

Qu Huashang’s fingers trembled. The once-serene Empress now wore an expression of shock, longing, and something far more complicated.

“Your Majesty!” The maid rushed to blot the spilled tea, calling for ointment when she saw the reddened skin.

But Qu Huashang waved them off, dismissing everyone except her personal maid.

Alone, she sat in silence, lost in thought.

Only her closest attendant understood. Closing the doors, the maid leaned in. “Your Majesty, you are the Emperor’s Empress now. You mustn’t dwell on… him. If His Majesty finds out—”

To the newer palace staff, these events were mere ghost stories.

But the older servants—and Qu Huashang’s maid—knew the truth.

The man in question was the legendary Seventh Prince, the only one in history granted the title of Idle King before turning sixteen.