MCSCPM -Chapter 109 The Truth

“I haven’t uncovered anything yet, and I don’t understand why the Empress is keeping the truth hidden. That’s why I came to ask you, Prince Jing—how can I get the Empress to speak openly, so that Consort Sun can receive justice? And do you know the Empress has collapsed again?” As her words fell, the sound of Prince Jing’s guqin trembled slightly, then quickly returned to calm.

“You want to know the truth that badly? Sometimes, the more you know, the faster you die.” His gaze darkened slightly, his tone calm yet cold.

“Die? If the Empress doesn’t wake up soon, I might end up buried alongside her. If that’s the case, why should I be afraid?” Her eyes were calm but carried a quiet resilience.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” Yin Qingyue’s voice was firm. “I just hope to have Prince Jing’s help. If you’re unwilling, I won’t say anything further—I’ll handle this myself.”

She was about to leave when the guqin abruptly fell silent. Yin Qingyue paused, her feet frozen. Prince Jing rose, a faint, cold smile on his lips, and approached her. With his long fingers, he lifted her chin:

“If you tell me whether you are that woman, I’ll help you.”

His tone was calm, but there was a subtle tension. He leaned closer, appearing to trap her against him—some might have read it as intimate, but his gaze was icy, betraying no emotion.

His large hand suddenly circled her slender waist, nearly making her gasp for air. Moving along the silk ribbon at her side, he seemed ready to undo it—but Yin Qingyue’s hand shot out, gripping his firmly, a muffled sound escaping her lips.

She cursed inwardly but kept her expression calm. “Prince Jing, if you’re looking for a woman, there are plenty outside. Why force this?”

With that, she gave a cold, dismissive smile, hiding any contempt behind her composure.

His long fingers tapped lightly on the table. His dark eyes were unreadable, a black abyss hiding his thoughts. This confrontation—whether one had won or lost—was only just beginning.

Stepping out of Prince Jing’s residence, Yin Qingyue carried herself as if nothing had happened, her demeanor calm and composed.

Why had she acted so compliant earlier? Through close contact with Prince Jing, she had used her mind-reading ability to glean some truth: after she had left the Empress’s chamber, Prince Jing had gone to see the Empress himself. True to his character, he wouldn’t have asked directly; unable to confront the truth head-on, he found other ways to uncover it. And as always, Yin Qingyue got what she wanted. She was determined to reclaim everything she had lost—or never gained—in the past.

This was her first success. Perhaps Prince Jing had intended it, but regardless, she had obtained the information she sought.

After she left, Prince Jing had quietly visited the Empress’s chamber, asking only brief, considerate questions. The Empress, still weak, was shocked—she had never expected the usually cold Prince Jing to show concern. Yet, with only a few words, he understood a great deal.

Since learning this, Yin Qingyue felt she was not far from the full truth.

Watching her exit, the observing Nangong Mei felt a deep jealousy. Though she had been saved by Yin Qingyue, she still resented her. She knew Prince Jing’s heart belonged to Yin Qingyue—the seemingly unworldly yet cold-hearted woman. She could not accept it; she would not yield so easily. She believed Prince Jing belonged to her, not to this woman. For the first time, she understood what jealousy truly felt like.

If she could not have what she loved, she would settle, but now this woman even lay in the arms of the one she cherished. She could not accept it. Her mother had nearly sacrificed herself—she would take revenge, claim what she had been denied: her status, her man, her mother. A consuming possessiveness surged through her, igniting a fire of rage.

Meanwhile, the true mastermind behind the events sipped tea calmly, observing the developments. Nothing was beyond his expectations; everything unfolded according to his plan. The game was becoming increasingly entertaining, and once he grew tired of it, the kingdom itself would be his.

While Yin Qingyue and Prince Jing were unaware, and Nangong Mei and the Empress likewise oblivious, he remained hidden, patiently watching his plan unfold. Those desperate to uncover the truth would likely only do so in hell. Smiling to himself, he murmured:

“All this bright, prosperous land will one day belong to me—forever.”

Sitting down, Yin Qingyue asked, “I’m curious, what does the Second Princess think of the First Princess?” She wanted to understand the Second Princess’s opinions, as they might reveal deeper secrets about a person.

“Hmm? Why ask that?” Nangong Mei had not expected such a seemingly trivial question. In her mind, personal opinions wouldn’t affect judgment.

“I heard the First Princess often troubled the Second Princess. I merely wish to inquire. If I’ve asked something improper, please don’t take it to heart.” Yin Qingyue’s tone was calm. She knew the Second Princess was not as simple as she appeared. One sentence could leave the question lingering, forcing the other to reveal more.

“Actually, I have no real opposition to my elder sister. While her words can be sharp at times, they stem from her own experiences. So they hardly count as true trouble.” Nangong Mei poured tea as she spoke. Since she had been imprisoned, her maid had been taken away, so she served the tea herself now that Yin Qingyue had come.

“I heard the First Princess grew up without a mother’s love, so this behavior is understandable,” Yin Qingyue replied, sipping the tea. She knew these words had little use, but were necessary to lay the groundwork for deeper inquiry.

She was struck by the Second Princess’s magnanimity. Just moments ago, Nangong xiao had mocked her, yet Nangong Mei spoke with such compassion. Yin Qingyue considered using her mind-reading ability but restrained herself—impatience could ruin long-term plans.

“The First Princess lost her mother young and grew up alone. Though she sometimes acted out, it stems from fear of losing what she now has—or might have in the future. For instance, Prince Jing—she loves him dearly and fears losing him.” Nangong Mei poured her own tea as she spoke. She too had strong feelings for someone, though she would not admit it.

People are inherently selfish, especially when protecting someone they deeply love. Though the object of their affection may not reciprocate, palace-bred instincts and upbringing rarely allow one to relinquish what they covet.

“Then it makes sense that one would fiercely guard what they love. Losing it would be the greatest pain. I heard the Third Princess has long admired Prince Jing—would that cause conflict with the First Princess?” Yin Qingyue asked thoughtfully. She knew Nangong xiao and Nangong wan had already been subtly competing for Prince Jing, but she was curious why Nangong Mei had not become involved. After all, Prince Jing was remarkable, dazzling even among nobility.

“The Third Princess does admire Prince Jing, but she hasn’t openly competed with my elder sister. Her strategy is deep, but the First Princess, though lonely, is not easily outmaneuvered. Their public confrontation will eventually decide who can stand honorably before the nobles. Prince Jing’s future is immense; his bravery and skill ensure his achievements won’t stop here.” Nangong Mei sipped her tea, her eyes briefly flashing a spark before settling. Yin Qingyue could detect nothing more.

The doors were open, and a gentle breeze carried the fresh scents of bamboo, lotus, and medicinal herbs planted in a corner of the courtyard. Occasionally, the fragrance drifted gently, soothing the senses.