Chapter Twenty-Seven: She Lied

Picking up the rope the assassin had slipped out of, Hua Rong was once again engulfed in melancholy: all she wanted was to survive, yet even that seemed so hard. Glancing at Su Xin beside her, Hua Rong couldn't help but feel a tangle of emotions. "Tell me, why do so many people want to kill me? What have I done?"

She truly suspected that the original Hua Rong hadn't been targeted merely for being favored, but must have had personal grudges or enemies everywhere. It seemed as if the moment she took over, all these people turned up to settle scores, which explained her wretched luck.

Su Xin gently tried to comfort her, "Your Highness, please don't worry. As the saying goes, 'He who wears the crown must bear its weight.' Once you've weathered more storms, navigating the harem will become second nature."

Hua Rong, however, found little comfort in those words. All she could think was that the more she experienced, the more enemies she made—and the sooner she would meet her end. She could only force a weak smile, fiddling absentmindedly with the rope twined around her fingers.

Yet, her gaze inadvertently caught something amiss. "Wait, there's something wrong with this rope!"

It wasn't just an ordinary hemp rope, but the sort used to bind heavy objects. Hua Rong's eyes fell to the spot where the rope had been cut: the break was sleek and smooth. But this was a rope made from four twisted strands—how could a shard have created such a clean cut?

"Your Highness, what's wrong with the rope?" Su Xin, now attentive, examined it carefully. It looked perfectly ordinary to her.

"There is a problem—not just with the rope, but with the adult as well!" Hua Rong took a deep breath, her gaze instinctively drifting toward the room where Cuiyu was recuperating, still finding it hard to believe.

Su Xin looked utterly bewildered. "What's happened? Your Highness, please don't frighten me. Who are you talking about? As for the rope, that person was indeed gravely injured, but it's just a cut—are you still feeling sorry for him?"

"Are you daft? Go fetch a piece of rope and a shard from a teapot. I'll show you something!"

Thinking her own suspicions might be too hasty, Hua Rong decided to test them herself. With Su Xin's confused help, she shattered a teacup, picked out a shard, and said, "Hold the rope for me—I’ll cut it."

With Su Xin assisting, Hua Rong used the shard to slice the rope. The result was a ragged, frayed cut, as if combed through with bristles—nothing like the smooth, neat break she’d seen before.

"Do you see?" Hua Rong asked, glancing at Su Xin.

Su Xin nodded. "I see. Different shards make different cuts."

Hua Rong nearly rolled her eyes. "Has something clogged your brain? Should I fetch a doctor to take a look at you?" She studied Su Xin, who normally was quick-witted—why had she become so muddled at a crucial moment?

But perhaps it was understandable. They had grown up together as mistress and maid, and their bond ran deep. It was unlikely Su Xin would suspect Cuiyu.

After a brief explanation, Su Xin finally understood. "Are you saying Cuiyu was the one communicating with the masked man? She's one of ours!"

Just as Su Xin was about to blurt something out, Hua Rong shook her head. Some things were better left unsaid, lest they alert the wrong person.

They buried the matter in their hearts, certain the assassin's business was not over yet.

At noon, Cuiyu, her body wrapped in gauze, made her way into the courtyard, basking in the warm sunlight as if reborn. She saw the two of them eating and slowly approached.

"Your Highness, Su Xin, are you having lunch?" she asked.

Su Xin's heart skipped a beat, remembering her earlier lies and feeling uneasy. But Hua Rong remained composed, giving Su Xin a look before waving Cuiyu over. "I thought you’d sleep a little longer. You recover quickly—come, have something to eat. There’s porridge for lunch."

Cuiyu took her seat without ceremony; Hua Rong was never one for strict etiquette, so Cuiyu had grown accustomed to sitting as she pleased, even with her lips pale. "Thank you for your concern, Your Highness."

But Su Xin couldn’t help but add, "Since you know how well Her Highness treats you, you must remember this kindness and never do anything heartless in return."

Her words carried a hidden meaning, and Cuiyu’s face changed slightly, sensing something amiss.

Hua Rong pressed a hand to her brow and chuckled to relieve the tension. "Don’t overthink it. With that assassin targeting me lately, we just suspect someone in the harem might be behind it. She was only speaking offhand; don’t take it to heart."

Cuiyu nodded and replied with a few polite, empty phrases that sounded almost nauseating.

Su Xin couldn’t sit still any longer. "Your Highness, I’ve finished eating. I’ll leave you two to it." She left, barely concealing her frustration.

Hua Rong sighed. "That girl—every time something happens, she can’t keep her composure. I keep telling her to stay calm, but it’s like playing the lute to a cow."

Still, it was understandable. Hua Rong had no energy to dwell on it, and instead asked Cuiyu a few specific questions. "All the daggers the assassin used were spent on me. Where did he get the one that stabbed you?"

Cuiyu paused before replying, "It was the fruit knife from the room."

Indeed, it was something from the room—delivered to the assassin by Cuiyu herself. The matter was clear.

"And you saw him cut the rope with your own eyes?"

"Yes, I’m certain. I saw the final cut and tried to stop him, but ended up like this..." Cuiyu’s tone grew more aggrieved. "It’s my fault for being useless. If I’d stopped him, you wouldn’t still be in danger."

Listening to her, Hua Rong was more or less certain: whatever Cuiyu’s true allegiance, she had lied too much not to be connected to the assassin.

"It’s not your fault. Eat." Hua Rong acted as if nothing was wrong, soothing her gently, and began eating with her spoon.

She had no fear that Cuiyu would dare make a move against her in broad daylight.