Chapter 251: Hidden Blade

Jiang Xuening listened as he said “go back,” using “we,” and a playful glint appeared in her eyes. She teased, “Go back where?”

Xie Wei’s lips pressed into a tight line, silently staring at her.

Jiang Xuening couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

After a long pause, his ears turned slightly red, but his face remained calm and composed as he solemnly uttered two words: “To learn the qin.”

She nearly doubled over laughing.

Xie Wei, however, had no way to deal with her. He simply held an umbrella in one hand, wrapped his other arm around her, and led her away from the side hall of Kunning Palace.

Zheng Bao approached, holding a list, ready to speak.

Before he could, Xie Wei glanced at him, cutting him off with a cool, “If it’s not a matter of life and death, come back tomorrow.”

Zheng Bao was instantly speechless.

Not daring to say another word, he could only watch as Xie Wei took her away.

Jiang Xuening stepped down the palace steps, lightly covered with a thin layer of snow, chuckling. “You’re too overbearing. If today’s arrangements aren’t handled well, they’ll have to prepare again tomorrow. Delays aren’t good.”

Xie Wei replied, “Got a problem with that?”

Jiang Xuening quickly shook her head, feigning obedience. “How could I dare? Whatever you say goes.”

Xie Wei didn’t respond.

As they exited Kunning Palace, perhaps due to the day’s bustle of people moving in and out, no one had noticed a snow-white cat lazily descending the vermilion palace wall. Its fur blended so closely with the snow that it was hard to spot at first glance.

Jiang Xuening nearly stepped on its tail.

In that split second, her mind flashed to Xie Wei beside her. Almost instinctively, she reached out, grabbing him to pull him behind her.

Unexpectedly, Xie Wei showed no reaction, merely glancing down.

Seeing the cat blocking their path, he bent down, gently lifted it by the scruff of its neck, and set it aside.

Jiang Xuening froze.

A strange, indescribable confusion washed over her, as if she’d glimpsed something faintly.

She stared at him, dazed.

Xie Wei only said, “Let’s go,” and took her hand to continue forward.

Snow blanketed the Forbidden City, the palace walls towering and majestic.

Something stirred in Jiang Xuening’s heart, and a faint smile curved her lips. She asked, “Not afraid of cats anymore?”

Xie Wei replied, “Are cats as frightening as people?”

Jiang Xuening fell silent for a moment, then noticed the snow falling steadily under the darkening sky. She asked, “And the snow?”

Xie Wei said, “It’ll always melt.”

In that moment, the falling snow seemed to shed its bleak chill, carrying instead a light, gentle warmth.

Dao Qin waited with a carriage outside the palace gates.

They lifted the curtain and stepped inside.

The carriage set off toward Xie Wei’s residence.

Bored during the ride, Jiang Xuening couldn’t resist probing him about the inner court’s affairs. “What’s the stance of those old scholars on the women’s academy?”

This little schemer, always trying to coax information out of him.

She was far too practiced at backdoor dealings.

Xie Wei closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. “No stance.”

Jiang Xuening thought he meant he wouldn’t tell her. Her eyes darted, and she moved closer, her voice softening. “I know the court’s matters are decided by the cabinet, and nothing’s shared until finalized. It’s inconvenient for you to always tell me what’s happening inside. But a tiny hint wouldn’t hurt, right? Just a teensy bit!”

She pinched her pinky finger, gesturing a minuscule amount.

Xie Wei felt his ears tingle at her coaxing tone. He slanted a glance at her, then pressed down the hand she’d rested on his arm to stop her from trying anything else. Sighing, he said, “When I said ‘no stance,’ I meant they have opinions but don’t dare oppose it. Not that I’m withholding.”

Jiang Xuening got it. “Oh.”

She started to pull her hand back, but her eyes flickered as she suddenly remembered the academy. Instead of letting go, she leaned closer. “What do you think about converting the area near Fengchen Hall, Yangzhi Zhai, and Kunning Palace into the first women’s academy? Start with noble girls in the capital, let others follow suit, then expand to other parts of the capital and provinces. How’s that?”

Xie Wei thought, *She’s still milking me for ideas.*

He had no real interest in women’s academies or imperial examinations. If he said “whatever,” though, her bright, expectant eyes would make it impossible to brush her off.

So he considered and said, “Sounds good.”

Jiang Xuening pushed further. “And then?”

Xie Wei paused, seeing her earnest expression. Unable to resist, he patiently explained, “Your approach isn’t wrong. But eagles have sharp eyes to spot prey from the skies; farmers water crops and remove pests for a bountiful harvest; scholars study for a decade to gain fame and rise to power. Most people don’t act without gain. Building an academy and enrolling students are surface tactics. The real strategy is making people flock to it without effort. The princess’s idea for a women’s academy is bold, but have you considered what the learning is for?”

*Making people flock without effort.*

Jiang Xuening’s heart jolted.

Her eyes blinked, and flashes of insight sparked in her mind, as if she’d grasped something profound, like a sudden epiphany.

Xie Wei knew she wasn’t dim—when it came to these matters, a nudge was enough. He continued, “Big plans must start small. The grander the goal, the more it hinges on details. Anything achieved too quickly is often flawed. For the academy, do you want students to become examination scholars, or should they first learn to read?”

Jiang Xuening furrowed her brow, thinking.

Xie Wei guided her step-by-step. “Why do students travel miles to study at places like Bailu or Yuelu Academies?”

Jiang Xuening answered, “Because the teachers there are more learned.”

Xie Wei smiled. “Exactly.”

Jiang Xuening let out a soft “ah.” “So, the success of an academy—how many or how good they are—doesn’t depend on how many students come, but on how many capable teachers are willing to teach!”

Xie Wei saw she’d caught the crux, his smile deepening. He closed his eyes again, leaning back calmly. “Planning is easy; achieving is hard. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Think it through, or you’ll be a laughingstock.”

*Planning is easy; achieving is hard.*

In her past life, Jiang Xuening had always assumed that Xie Wei, a prodigy, accomplished everything effortlessly—even something as monumental as rebellion seemed like child’s play to him. But what in this world was ever truly easy?

Behind every feat of effortless grace lay untold toil…

She gazed at him, her heart once again surrendering to his brilliance, thoroughly convinced.  

But still…  

When it came to certain matters, he was truly clueless.  

Jiang Xuening pondered—the cabinet was the hub of all the empire’s intelligence, and her move into Kunning Palace was hardly a minor event. How could he resist asking about it?  

By the time they returned to Xie Manor, her mind was buzzing with ideas about the women’s school.  

Xie Wei asked, *”What would you like to eat?”*  

She answered absently, *”How about a bowl of wontons?”*  

Xie Wei settled her in the study, where ink and brushes were ready, leaving her to lean over the desk and scribble furiously while he headed to the kitchen.  

Over the past two months, Jiang Xuening had already familiarized herself with every corner of his residence as if it were her own home. The heated floors warmed the rooms, and thick carpets covered every surface. The moment she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes, curled up in the grand armchair Xie Wei usually occupied, spread out paper, and began jotting down the insights and thoughts she’d gathered during the carriage ride.  

Before she knew it, half an hour had passed.  

After writing for a while, she hit a mental block. Sitting motionless for a long moment, she finally couldn’t resist getting up to pace, deep in thought.  

Behind her stood a row of display shelves, while another wall was lined with books. A few built-in cabinets were embedded in the walls, their drawers adorned with brass rings shaped like bamboo and auspicious clouds.  

She hadn’t noticed earlier, but when she glanced up, she caught sight of a thin black silk cord peeking out from one of the drawers.  

Jiang Xuening froze mid-step.  

Her fingers twined around the cord, assuming it had accidentally snagged on something. To her surprise, it was connected to the contents inside. Curious, she tugged on the brass ring and slid the drawer halfway open.  

Now she could see the cord was tied to a seal.  

Inside the drawer lay a familiar, slender dagger.  

Beneath it were several sheets of paper, the handwriting so crooked and crude it looked like it had been scrawled by a dog. Even the original author—her past self—would have blushed in embarrassment at the sight.  

Jiang Xuening gritted her teeth and reached to take them out.  

But before she could, a hand swiftly intercepted, pressing the half-open drawer shut with a firm click, sealing its contents from view.  

Startled, she turned around.  

Sure enough, Xie Wei had returned unnoticed, holding a bowl of wontons in his other hand. Standing behind her, half a head taller, his expression was stiff as he stared down at her. *”Who said you could rummage through my things?”*  

Jiang Xuening felt not the slightest guilt.  

Instead, she tilted her sharp, delicate chin up slightly and gave him a sly look, like a fox that had just stolen a bite. *”Oh? Is this drawer off-limits?”*  

Xie Wei set the bowl of wontons down.  

Jiang Xuening, ever the opportunist who’d turn an inch of leniency into a mile of audacity, refused to let it go. She leaned in closer, pressing further. *”You know, that exam paper inside looked awfully familiar. Who in the world would have the nerve to openly declare they’d cook Confucius in eighteen different ways? Such an outrageous answer—really, the culprit should be arrested and scolded thoroughly…”*  

Xie Wei’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at her.  

Jiang Xuening rested her cheek against his shoulder, her voice teasing. *”Tell me, Teacher Xie, what were you thinking?”*  

Back when she was the study companion at Fengchen Hall, he had scolded her relentlessly, finding fault with everything. While others left after lessons, she was dragged to the side hall for extra qin practice. Outwardly, he was the saintly scholar who charmed everyone, but in private, his severity had always unnerved her.  

And then there was that entrance exam…

He had kept her behind to say a few words that day—words that had nearly scared her to tears.  

But that exam paper…  

Xie Wei didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his head slightly and asked, *”Are you hungry?”*  

Jiang Xuening shook her head.  

She wasn’t the least bit hungry now. For once, she had Xie Ju’an by the tail, and her eyes sparkled with excitement, completely unaware that there was such a thing as *knowing when to stop*. She pressed on, chattering away: *”I remember, you made me peach slice cakes, and I gave a few to Zhou Baoying… You got angry afterward…”*  

Her words were abruptly cut off.  

Xie Wei’s arm suddenly tightened around her slender waist, his composed face betraying no hint of embarrassment even as she exposed his secrets. Then, he sealed her lips with his own.  

She let out a muffled whimper, her voice fragile and fragmented.  

By the time he released her, she was dizzy and disoriented.  

Xie Wei sat back in the grand armchair by the desk, pulling her onto his lap. With an infuriatingly patient smile, he asked, *”What do you want to know? I’ll tell you everything.”*  

Jiang Xuening looked at him, and a sudden prickle of fear ran through her.  

He was tall, his legs long—when he held her like this, her sock-clad feet barely brushed the floor, leaving her feeling unsteady and flustered. Her bravado instantly crumbled, and she switched to a pitiful tone: *”I don’t want to know anything. Not a thing.”*  

Xie Wei had always known she was a coward at heart. His hand still resting on her waist, he gave the soft flesh there a light pinch, his smile never faltering. *”Weren’t you just brimming with curiosity? Let your teacher enlighten you—bit by bit.”*  

Jiang Xuening gasped in surprise, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her.  

Her voice was already delicate, but now it carried a hint of breathless shock. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gazed up at him pleadingly. *”I was wrong.”*  

They weren’t married yet—he still had to send her home later.  

In the end, Xie Wei didn’t push her further.  

He simply held her quietly for a while, until the evening’s discussions from the cabinet resurfaced in his mind.  

Jiang Xuening asked, *”Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?”*  

Xie Wei studied her.  

This kind of openness still felt unfamiliar to him, but seeing the hopeful glint in her eyes, he finally spoke after a long pause: *”What’s this about you taking over Kunning Palace?”*  

At that moment, joy bloomed in Jiang Xuening’s eyes.  

She wrapped her arms around his neck.  

Then, honestly and in detail, she explained: *”Didn’t Lu Xian propose a solution to the court?”*  

The Shen imperial family’s current position was… awkward.  

They couldn’t just be left hanging.  

But keeping them required money—was the imperial treasury supposed to remain their personal coffers, as it had been before, letting them take whatever they pleased?  

The grand secretaries would never agree.  

Lu Xian, now back in court as the Vice Minister of Revenue, had started his tenure with a bold move—his first target was the imperial clan. His proposal was straightforward:  

The wealth from Shen Lang’s private treasury would remain with the imperial family, and the court would not pursue past grievances.  

But the national treasury? That was off-limits. From now on, the imperial family would receive a fixed annual stipend, subject to the cabinet’s approval.  

These two pools of money were all they got—they could spend it however they liked. If they blew through it all in a year, the court wouldn’t care. But they wouldn’t get a single extra coin beyond that.  

Now, with Shen Zhiyi leading the imperial clan…

The imperial treasury was depleted, and the allocated funds were meager. However, Shen Lang’s private coffers had been inherited from the accumulations of emperors throughout successive dynasties. Even though a large portion had been squandered, what remained was still considerable.  

Yet, reckless spending would eventually lead to depletion over time.  

To ensure long-term sustainability, there had to be a long-term strategy.  

Thus, Shen Zhiyi saw further than others. Suppressing the discontent within the Shen clan, she directly handed over such a substantial sum to Jiang Xuening, allowing her to invest in whatever business she saw fit, with the condition that Shen Zhiyi would take a twenty percent commission from the profits.  

After all, there were plenty of ventures under her purview that lacked funding.  

Moreover, with such a massive sum at play, what kind of influence could it mobilize? It was an absolutely foolproof deal—Jiang Xuening had no reason to refuse.  

She counted on her fingers as she explained to Xie Wei: “Look, managing the royal family’s accounts, promoting women’s education, mediating all sorts of matters—there are people coming and going constantly. The tiny space in the Imperial Household Department can’t possibly accommodate all that. It’s nowhere near as spacious as the Kunning Palace.”  

Xie Wei still felt that Shen Zhiyi was deliberately making things difficult for him.  

He remained silent.  

Seeing his expression, Jiang Xuening knew he was sulking, displeased. Suddenly, she recalled the past life—when Shen Zhiyi had been so infuriated by her cross-dressing that her eyes had turned red. Her lashes trembled slightly as she softly said to Xie Wei, “She just wants to be good to me in her own way.”  

That day, she had been returning from reviewing accounts at the Imperial Household Department when she passed by the Kunning Palace.  

Palace servants were busy moving things in and out.  

She asked, “What’s going on here?”  

A maid nearby replied, “The late emperor has passed, and the Kunning Palace has always been the residence of empresses throughout history. With no clear successor to the throne yet, it would be improper for anyone to live there now. According to ancestral customs, Empress Zheng must vacate the premises. From now on, this palace will remain empty.”  

At dusk, the setting sun cast its fading light.  

The vermilion palace walls reflected the golden glazed tiles, and the familiar gates of the Kunning Palace seemed to bear the marks of time, evoking a sense of change—of dynasties rising and falling. It suddenly reminded her of her past life.  

She had schemed relentlessly to become mistress of the Kunning Palace…  

But in the end?  

Becoming its mistress had turned into becoming its occupant in death—it was both a palace and a tomb.  

That day, she stood outside for a long while before finally leaving with a faint smile.  

Who would have thought that the very next day, Shen Zhiyi would send someone?  

It was Zheng Bao.  

His master, Wang Xinyi, had been assassinated by the Embroidered Uniform Guards two months prior for attempting to flee the capital in secret. Thus, Zheng Bao now oversaw all major and minor affairs within the palace.  

His face was as delicate and refined as ever.  

When he saw Jiang Xuening, he smiled slightly and said, “The Kunning Palace is now vacant—spacious and bright, far more suitable for discussions than the cramped quarters of the Imperial Household Department. Moreover, it stands second only to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, roughly at the heart of the palace complex, making it convenient for travel to any location. Her Highness the Princess suggests that you move out of the modest Yangzhi Zhai and take up residence in the Kunning Palace, so as to avoid daily exhaustion.”  

Jiang Xuening was stunned.  

She knew what the Kunning Palace symbolized and immediately refused.  

However…  

Her delicate nose wrinkled slightly as she recalled the old ministers’ scolding. “I had the sense to decline, but they still berated me. Do I look like someone who takes insults lying down? The next day, I rolled up my bedding and moved right in. Try and stop me!”

Just think—who was she in her past life?

No matter who became emperor, she was determined to be empress.

Now, Shen Zhiyi merely gifted her the Kunning Palace, and yet these old men wouldn’t stop yapping about it day after day. Two lifetimes had passed, and the people she disliked remained just as detestable!

Xie Wei was finally amused by her vivid expression.

The corners of his lips curved upward, softening the edges of his brows.

Seeing this, Jiang Xuening felt dizzy with infatuation. As if bewitched, she suddenly leaned in and kissed him. Her soft, moist lips, carrying a faint sweetness, pressed against his, tracing the sharp contours of his thin lips. After a moment’s hesitation, the tip of her tongue tentatively slipped past his lips.

Her heartbeat quickened abruptly.

She rarely took the initiative like this. Before she could even deepen the kiss, her cheeks were already flushed like peach blossoms, the shy hesitation only making her pulse thunder louder.

Xie Wei’s gaze locked onto her, his voice hoarse. “Are you determined to court death?”

Jiang Xuening immediately regretted it.

She had only meant to reward him for once voicing his displeasure so gently, not to be kept here by him until midnight. So, the moment the thought crossed her mind, she tried to flee.

But she was already sitting on Xie Wei’s lap—where could she possibly go?

It was far too late.

He caught her effortlessly.

Without even shifting position.

His hands roamed skillfully, teasing her until she was breathless and trembling; her snow-white feet, unable to touch the ground, dangled helplessly, the delicate silk socks slipping, her perfectly trimmed toes curling taut with unbearable sensation.

Only then did he enter her slowly.

With no escape, she gasped like a drowning fish. As he reached the deepest point, a rising tide of pleasure made her scalp tingle, tears spilling uncontrollably.

Jiang Xuening whimpered, “Have mercy, I’m dying.”

Xie Wei chuckled. “Dying of pleasure?”

Instantly, her face burned crimson, her jade-like earlobes flushing scarlet. Overwhelmed, she flailed in a futile attempt to flee. But the moment her toes touched the ground, her legs gave way, nearly sending her crashing down—if not for her desperate grip on the desk in front of her.

Now, she was truly like a fish tossed into a hot pan.

Pressed against the edge, she soon surrendered, her strength spent.

Fortunately, Xie Wei was behind her, hands steadying her waist.

Her peaks trembled, her delicate face glistening with dew.

Exhausted, she pounded the desk in mortification. “You’re so wicked!”

Xie Wei pulled her into a deep kiss.

His laughing eyes held an unsettling seriousness. “I can always be three times worse than you imagine.”

By all accounts, it wasn’t a comforting statement. Yet the intensity in his gaze shattered Jiang Xuening’s defenses completely.

After holding him for a while, she finally asked, “Why did you even hide the dagger in the box?”

Would he never use it again?

Or was there no longer any need to guard against unforeseen dangers?

Xie Wei’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long silence, he studied her damp lashes but gave no answer. Instead, he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her eye with lips still warm from passion.

All blades in this world exist to kill.

Many are meant for others—but not all.

Drawing her close, his voice dropped to a husky, hypnotic murmur, like a vow:

“Jiang Xuening, I am yours.”

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