Chapter 378: Chapter 376: To Shave and Cultivate at Plum Blossom Temple
Lu Ying had been busy all day and night, swiftly dealing with the officials of Lu Zhengliu’s faction.
It wasn’t until dawn began to break that he put down the vermillion pen and reached up to rub his temples.
Xue Ling swept in with wide sleeves, clicking his tongue in mock amusement: "I just dropped by the Xue Mansion—guess what? The old man gave me a scolding fit and demanded to know if I was involved in the rebellion. Tch, in his eyes, you’re already a traitor!"
Recalling the entire Xue family gathered in the Hanging Flower Hall to watch his father berating him, Xue Ling raised an ironic brow.
His father was nothing if not a fool for loyalty.
Even to useless good-for-nothings like Lu Yu and Lu Zhengliu, he pledged allegiance. What an absurd devotion.
Then the image of Xue Mianmian in her pale lotus-colored ruqun, hair in twin buns, timidly holding her younger sister’s hand while standing in the corner came to mind. That pitiful sight ignited something burning and inexplicably ravenous in his chest.
Xue Ling pushed aside those fleeting licentious thoughts, licking his thin lips: "The Capital is crawling with stubborn old fogies like my father. You’d better think of a way to shut them up. If they get carried away and accuse you of forcibly seizing the throne, then all gather to smash their heads outside Jinluan Hall in protest, you might just leave an eternal infamy in the annals of history!"
Lu Ying’s expression remained indifferent.
He had just summoned the Historian and studied the newly written chronicles.
Setting aside this current rebellion, even back when he was deposed as Crown Prince, his personal biography already had those eight damning characters inked in: "Abused power, seized a minister’s wife."
Poor Shen Yinning, destined to "share eternal renown in history" with him.
He cared little for such empty reputations and simply said calmly, "They’re all at the age of retiring to the countryside anyway."
Xue Ling’s fox-like eyes gleamed slightly.
Whether or not his father retired, whether or not he remained as the Minister—that didn’t matter to him in the slightest.
What did matter was that once these old relics stepped down, more positions in the court would open up. Then, fresh blood and loyal followers of the new emperor would have greater opportunities to rise.
"For life, I’ve pledged to serve you," Xue Ling sprawled into a chair with a flutter of his robes. "You’d better reward me with a serious position of power to make it worth my while."
"By the way—" He picked up a peanut, cracking it open while lifting his sly eyes, "What are you planning to do about Shen Yinning?"
Currently, the scandal between Lu Ying and Shen Yinning was stirring the Capital into an uproar.
From high-ranking officials to commoners, nearly everyone knew that the wife Lu Ying had seized belonged to Shen Yinning.
And after his deposition, it was whispered that in secret Shen Yinning demanded he be sent to the Shen Garden as her Forbidden Fruit.
Preposterous and sensational—it sounded too absurd to believe. Yet somehow, it had indeed happened.
A monarch, reduced to being a woman’s Forbidden Fruit, even punished to kneel—it was a disgrace beyond words.
By any normal logic, shouldn’t he kill Shen Yinning to vent his fury?
Lu Ying’s lashes drooped low.
The image of the girl’s willful, overindulgent face—like a hibiscus in full bloom—surfaced vividly in his thoughts. He even recalled the precise curve of her lashes when she smiled.
How best to handle her?
Execution?
Exile back to Gan State?
Neither seemed particularly satisfying.
A void lingered in his chest. Even with power and position reclaimed, it could not be filled.
He didn’t want her dead, nor did he want her to escape his grasp.
As the pre-dawn wind scattered the stars,
Lu Ying reached a third decision.
Shen Garden.
Lu Jiazhe, uneasy about Shen Yinning, had kept watch over her in the garden for an entire day and night. Seeing no apparent movement from Lu Ying, who was still preoccupied with matters of abdication, he left with a heavy heart.
Shen Yinning, however, continued to eat and drink well, showing no concern.
After all, she couldn’t leave the Capital anymore. And considering Lu Ying wouldn’t kill her, it seemed her fate had only a few possible outcomes left.
Confident as always in her ability to defy the odds, the girl thought, since she’d managed to return to the Capital from Gan State, who’s to say she couldn’t win again?
She estimated that within the next day or two, the decree regarding her fate would be issued. And as expected, right after her morning grooming today, Gui Quan arrived at Shen Garden with the imperial edict.
Alongside the decree, there was also a razor and a monk’s robe.
Gui Quan cast a complex glance at Shen Yinning, whispering cautiously, "The new emperor is merciful and could not bear to see the Commandery Princess meet an untimely end, so he has arranged for you to take vows and retreat to Plum Blossom Temple. Princess, you must understand this is His Majesty’s great kindness. Please pack your belongings at once and prepare to depart for Plum Blossom Temple."
The razor gleamed coldly.
The monk’s robe was dull and lifeless.
Shen Yinning didn’t accept either.
She ran a hand over her cherished thick black hair, her smile tinged with mockery: "I’ve imagined many possible outcomes, but never did I guess he’d pick this one for me. Eunuch Gui, kindly relay this to him: I’m not opposed to shaving my head and embracing the life of a nun, but only if he personally shaves me."
The girl’s sensitivity and perceptiveness had grown since her return from Gan State, sharp enough to catch even the subtlest emotional cues.
She knew full well that Lu Ying harbored a tangled mix of love and hate for her. He wanted no further emotional entanglement, yet couldn’t bring himself to kill her. Thus, he resorted to forcing her to take vows as a means of severing their connection.
He was delusional, thinking this could make him let go of her.
Becoming a nun—how absurd!
"This..." Gui Quan forced an awkward smile, "The new emperor has just ascended the throne and is very busy. How could he find the time to visit you, Princess? As they say, thunder and dew are all the grace of the emperor. Please make haste to the temple so I may complete my errand and return to the palace."
"If he won’t come to see me, I’m not leaving the Shen Garden."
With that, Shen Yinning retreated to her quarters.
Gui Quan’s scalp tingled.
If it had been anyone else, he could have just ordered the Imperial Guard to force her out.
But this was Princess Zhaoning.
The one His Majesty had cherished in his youth, a figure embedded in his heart.
What if the two rekindled old feelings later on? Wouldn’t he, Gui Quan, be the one to suffer?
What a cursed mess.
Gui Quan had no choice but to relay Shen Yinning’s exact words, returning warily to Lu Ying.
Lu Ying was in the Imperial Study, discussing matters with his ministers. He didn’t get around to addressing this issue until evening.
As he casually finished some tea and food, he asked, "She won’t go? Then why not just have her tied up and taken away?"
"This..." Gui Quan hunched over in distress, wiping sweat from his forehead as he cautiously replied, "You know the Princess’s temperament—she’d rather shatter like jade than submit like pottery. If she injures herself again..."
The unspoken "You’ll feel heartache again" lingered on his tongue, but Gui Quan dared not let it slip out loud.
After his meal, Lu Ying rinsed his mouth and washed his face before finally saying, "Prepare the carriage."
Gui Quan dared to glance at him, guessing that he was heading to meet Princess Zhaoning.
He knew it. His master hadn’t truly let go of the Princess after all.
The night was deep and heavy.
When Lu Ying arrived at Wanxiang Building, Shen Yinning had already bathed. Her soft, voluminous hair was casually pinned halfway up with a golden hairpin. She wore a wide-sleeved ruqun of dark gold gauze and was lying on the wooden chaise, reading a book.
She had her feet propped up high, the skirt cascading down her delicate, slender legs, revealing skin so pale it was almost dazzling. A red string tied to her ankle held a golden bell, which jingled lightly with the playful sway of her feet.
He stood there, dripping with the night’s dew, gazing at her from afar: "Why refuse to take vows?"