51 Deal

In the brightly lit room, Zihua knelt trembling on the floor, while that man… Ha, Mingyue caught the extreme gloom on his face at a single glance. Steadying her breath, Mingyue hurried over to check on Qin Shi, but no matter how she slapped or pinched him, he showed not the slightest response. His handsome features remained calm and serene, and in his hand, he still held that soul lantern. Yet this time, the gentle jade-green glow that usually soothed her only made her more agitated.

“Qin Shi, wake up, wake up!” Mingyue slapped his face, unknowingly using more force, leaving several red marks on his cheeks. “Don’t do this, who told you to push me aside? I picked you up, without my permission who said you could act on your own?”

She grabbed his collar, shouting, and for the first time since she had awoken, tears she didn’t understand welled uncontrollably from her eyes. Mingyue buried her face against Qin Shi’s neck; his skin was as cool as ever, but why did it make her tears flow all the more?

The next moment, Mingyue was dragged by her hair and thrown to the ground.

“How dare you! Guards, throw them all into the death cell!” The Emperor Que flung his sleeve coldly, his brows sharp with anger.

Mingyue looked over and couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing someone about to touch Qin Shi’s body, she quickly said, “Emperor Que, if you still wish for your precious consort to recover, I advise you not to touch him or that lantern! Otherwise, not even immortals could help you…”

At his command, the guards stopped. Seeing this, Mingyue closed her eyes and let the intruding guards drag her away.

She was discarded like refuse.

Then the cell was locked.

Only after the guards left did Mingyue struggle to her feet and curl up in a pile of straw in the corner. Hugging her knees, she couldn’t help burying her head. Her words just now had only been to keep Emperor Que from touching Qin Shi. In truth, she’d never encountered such a situation before and had no idea how to remedy it. But after all, keeping the soul lantern nearby was better than nothing. Now that Qin Shi was gone, if the lantern’s light vanished too, she would lose even the faintest hope.

But, could Qin Shi ever return?

Her eyes grew wet again without her noticing. Strange, why did she always want to cry lately? Mingyue rubbed at her eyes and looked around the death cell. The stone walls were intact, and there was a small window for air and light. The floor was filthy black, and aside from the straw heap she occupied, nowhere else was fit to step. Rotten scraps and foul water mixed together, along with rats and insects scurrying about… Mingyue forced herself to stare at the stone wall, trying not to notice anything else.

Just then, someone in the neighboring cell knocked. Mingyue heard a voice: “Forgive me, Miss Mingyue, I, Zihua, failed to stop His Majesty.”

That even she had been thrown in here showed just how furious the Emperor was. Mingyue shook her head, then suddenly recalled that Zihua couldn’t see, so she said, “Now that things are like this, there’s no use blaming anyone.”

“Miss Mingyue, will my lady be all right?”

Mingyue let out a cold laugh. One by one, all these people only cared about Qi Chuxue. If not for her, would Qin Shi have ended up like this? Would Mingyue herself be suffering in prison? Thinking this, her tone lost all restraint. “I haven’t seen her, so how should I know? At worst, she’ll lose a soul or two—being a fool wouldn’t be so bad for her, at least she wouldn’t suffer. Isn’t that just what she wanted?”

“How could that be? Miss Mingyue, please, you must help my lady!”

“Help? I’m trapped here—how am I supposed to help? If it weren’t for helping her, would Qin Shi and I need to disguise ourselves as servants and stay in this wretched place? It’s only because of her that I’m in this cell now! Only for her that Qin Shi’s life hangs in the balance! You people, high and mighty, love your games of the heart—go on, play them! What’s it got to do with us common folk? But why should our lives be at your mercy, why?” Mingyue shouted hoarsely, just wanting to vent all the rage in her heart. When she finished, silence fell in the neighboring cell.

After a long while, Zihua lowered her voice and said, “On behalf of my lady, I offer you and the young master an apology.”

“An apology? And that’s supposed to fix everything? I want Qin Shi safe and sound—if anything happens to him, I’ll make Qi Chuxue pay with her life!” Zihua’s words did nothing to calm Mingyue. Instead, they only fueled her desire for revenge.

“You dare!”

She was not surprised to hear the Emperor’s voice. Mingyue stood up, gazing coldly at him standing outside the cell. The ache in her eyes flashed—she knew the blood-red hexagram had already appeared. “You can try. Let’s see which of us has more to lose.”

The Emperor glared at her for a long moment, then gave a cold snort and strode away.

Mingyue slumped back onto the straw, staring up at the ceiling, the web of spiders no longer able to frighten or disgust her. She suddenly recalled the early days after she took Qin Shi in, when she’d ordered him to clean every inch of the Longing Pavilion. She’d forgotten how long it had been since the storeroom had last been tidied. Qin Shi had emerged covered in dust, with spider webs clinging to his hair, brows, and even his long lashes. She’d been so disgusted, pinching her nose and fleeing outside, and when he finally finished, she’d thrown him out altogether.

She had said, not to come back into the Longing Pavilion until he had cleaned himself thoroughly.

In truth, she’d only wanted an excuse to make him leave. But he’d come back, scrupulously clean.

Mingyue rubbed her damp eyes and began to despise herself—the helpless self, the self who only looked back, the self who could only weep.

As the hours dragged on, rats began to squeak and scurry from one end of the cell to the other. Sometimes Mingyue could feel their furry bodies brush her ankle, making her curl up tighter and tighter. Her empty stomach began to growl, making her think—shamefully—of Qin Shi.

Only now did Mingyue realize that since Qin Shi’s arrival, she’d never had to worry about such things. All the filth and fear had always been blocked by him. Before she ever felt hunger or thirst, he would have tea and cakes ready at her side. She had never thought much of it, even thought it only right, as payment for her kindness. But now that he was suddenly gone, she realized just how unaccustomed she was, how deeply she’d come to rely on him…

Mingyue leaned back against the wall, gazing up at the ceiling.

She sat in silence through the night.

It was not until dawn the next day that someone carelessly tossed two steamed buns inside. Mingyue merely glanced at them and let the rats climb over; she could wait—unless the Emperor truly meant to keep Qi Chuxue forever in her stupor.

On the third morning, at last, the Emperor came.

“Do you have a way to cure Chuxue?”

Mingyue didn’t look at him, only let out a cold laugh. “First, have these jailers beheaded.” With that, she fainted onto the straw. Upon waking, she found herself back in Snowfall Palace, with Zihua tending to her.

“Miss, you haven’t eaten for nearly two days. You should have some porridge first,” Zihua said gently.

Mingyue unceremoniously waved her hand, knocking the porridge away. “I want to see Qin Shi.”

“Take care of yourself first,” came the Emperor’s cold voice as he entered.

Mingyue pulled the wooden hairpin from her hair and pressed it to her throat. “I want to see Qin Shi.”

The Emperor snorted, turned, and walked out. Mingyue leapt from the bed and followed.

“You and that little servant seem close,” he remarked.

Mingyue’s lips curled in a mocking smile. “Unlike Your Majesty and the consort. Oh, you must know by now—she once used the jade hairpin you gave her as a deposit, gave it to me. On the way, people tried to steal it, but every one of them was a fool, none even realized it was fake. Truly, Your Majesty is surrounded by talent.”

The Emperor pushed open a door, and Mingyue darted inside ahead of him. The room was still softly lit by palace lanterns, and there Qin Shi stood, holding the soul lantern, silent and motionless, waiting for her—not near, not far, just waiting.

Mingyue carefully examined him, confirming he was unharmed, before turning to the Emperor. In the shifting light, the Emperor’s face was half concealed, his expression unreadable. Mingyue heard him say, “Shall we make a deal?”