Chapter Eleven: Even More Favored

After all the unimportant people had withdrawn, the vast bedchamber became eerily quiet, leaving only Hua Rong and Jun Yeli alone. The atmosphere once again grew awkward; Hua Rong scarcely dared to breathe, shrinking into herself like a rabbit caught by a wolf, anxiously awaiting his next move.

“Say something, will you? Are you trying to drive me mad?” Hua Rong’s heart nearly twisted itself into knots. Silent tension was the deadliest weapon of all—like a slow-acting poison, tormenting its victim to the point where life became worse than death.

Jun Yeli, observing her trembling form, at last broke the silence. “What is it? Are you frightened by all this?”

Had the circumstances been different, Hua Rong might have snapped back, expressing her helplessness. Who wouldn’t be afraid, standing before a man who held her life in his hands, knowing she could be buried at his whim?

But the truth was not a luxury she could afford. Pressed by his authority, Hua Rong shook her head. “No, Your Majesty, you overthink.”

Jun Yeli did not pursue the matter further. Suddenly, he raised a hand. Sensing movement, Hua Rong recoiled, only to see him merely rub his own throat. Into the air, now thick with tension, his voice abruptly sounded: “I’m a bit thirsty. Pour me some water.”

Relieved, Hua Rong quickly fetched a cup of water. Yet she held it in her hands, testing the temperature over and over, stalling before bringing it over.

“Is the water precious?” Jun Yeli asked dryly. “You cradle it in your hands, yet cannot bear to let me drink?”

“No, Your Majesty, you misunderstand. It’s just a bit too hot. It needs to cool before it can be swallowed.” With a forced smile, Hua Rong blew on the rim, gauging the warmth with careful fingers.

Once satisfied, she finally presented the cup to him with due respect.

Watching her considerate actions, Jun Yeli nodded in approval, teasing, “I’m surprised. You’re always fussing over that ramshackle garden of yours, so carefree in your ways, yet here you are—so attentive. Far more sensible than those women who do nothing but vie for favor.”

Something about his words struck Hua Rong as off. Was it just her, or had the Emperor grown increasingly appreciative of her? What if he truly took a liking to her—wouldn’t that spell her doom?

The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. If winning imperial favor meant wagering her life, Hua Rong had neither the courage nor the desire to gamble. “No, these dangerous thoughts must be strangled in their cradle!” With this resolve, she glanced furtively around and suddenly spoke, “Your Majesty, are you cold? Would you like another quilt?”

“No,” came the curt reply. But Hua Rong was undeterred. “No trouble—I’ll fetch one at once!”

Without waiting, she hurried to the cupboard, pulled out a quilt, and slung it over her shoulders. As she walked back, she caught sight of the tea cup on the table. Using the corner of the quilt, she deliberately flicked the cup, sending it crashing to the floor.

There was a sharp crack as the porcelain shattered.

Jun Yeli, the cup barely raised to his lips, was startled by the noise and looked over. “What happened?”

Flustered, Hua Rong stammered, “Your Majesty, I’m terribly sorry. I was careless and knocked over the cup. I’ll be sure to replace it. You won’t hold it against me, will you?”

It was a fine white jade cup, a rare tribute from the Western Regions just last year. Now it lay in pieces—would he still call her thoughtful?

She then realized that replacing white jade with common blue-and-white porcelain was hardly a fair exchange.

“Are you genuinely foolish, or is it an act?” Jun Yeli’s gaze cooled, and whatever favor she’d gained slipped away.

Despite the irritation in his voice, Hua Rong felt a fleeting sense of relief, thinking she had narrowly escaped a calamity. But then her eyes fell to the broken shards, where white froth was inexplicably bubbling up. She paled. “It’s poison!”

Recalling the cup of water she’d just poured, her heart lurched. She dashed forward, snatching the cup from Jun Yeli’s hand and smashing it to the floor.

“Don’t drink it, Your Majesty! There’s poison in the tea!”

Jun Yeli stared, stunned. On the floor, the spilled tea began to froth just as before. His expression darkened instantly.

“How could there be poison in the tea?”

He never imagined that tonight would be so fraught—first assassins, now poison. Would there ever be an end to this?

Jun Yeli’s face was thunderous, like a storm-laden sky, ominous and forbidding. Hua Rong swallowed hard. “Why are you panicking? I’m even more frightened than you!”

She hadn’t yet settled accounts for the Emperor’s earlier injury, and now she’d nearly handed him a cup of poison herself—enough, if discovered, for a charge of regicide.

She felt as though she were living on a knife’s edge, never a moment’s peace.

“Your Majesty, is it possible these are all just coincidences?” Hua Rong ventured, watching him warily. She always felt that his silences boded ill.

Jun Yeli gave a cold laugh. “So, even if the assassin was killed, they refuse to give up. Do they think that a tiger that lies still has become a house cat? If they’re so impatient, they can’t blame me for showing no mercy!”

Hua Rong was left bewildered, and nervously inquired, “Your Majesty, do you mean the assassin who appeared in the garden earlier today?”

After all, tonight’s intruder was still alive.

Jun Yeli nodded, glancing at her anxious face, then at the poisoned tea on the floor. Suddenly, he smiled. “This time, I owe you. It seems you’re my lucky star. Perhaps I’ll have to keep you by my side from now on!”

“No, that’s not necessary, truly—it was just a coincidence…” Hua Rong stammered in embarrassment.

To him, she was a lucky star; to his enemies, she was a thorn in their side. Wouldn’t that only hasten her demise?

Inside, her thoughts swirled chaotically. In this palace, the harem was filled with wolves and tigers, while Jun Yeli himself was a bottomless pit. Either way, it seemed death awaited her.

Yet Jun Yeli only smiled gently. “No need for modesty, my dear. You’ve saved my life. Such devotion deserves recognition!”

The more he said, the more speechless she became. Forced into compliance by his persistence, Hua Rong nevertheless clung to her last shred of stubbornness. “If you’re so insistent, don’t blame me for being heartless.”

After all, there were countless ways to make a man lose interest—why fret over a single day or moment?