The imperial palace was usually silent and cold at night.
But tonight, a sudden blaze lit the sky above the eastern halls.
Thick black smoke billowed upward, like a beast awakening from its slumber.
The alarm drums sounded three times.
Eunuchs, palace maids, and guards swarmed toward Chi Yu Gong—the royal archive pavilion housing ancient texts of the dynasty.
⸻
"Fire! There's a fire!"
A voice echoed beyond the wall.
The keeper of the scroll house, pale and trembling, pointed frantically.
"There were footprints seen last night, oil-stained silk hidden beneath the pavilion… and the evidence points to—Fourth Princess!"
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At Hualan Palace,
Xianlan received the news from her closest maid.
She simply set down her teacup, emotionless.
Her deep eyes gazed out the window quietly before she spoke.
"So it's begun…"
"A crude attempt at framing me—meant to rattle my composure."
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The next morning, in the imperial court,
the Minister of Order presented the evidence before the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, we found a piece of embroidered silk bearing the character 'Lan' hidden beneath the pavilion. The footprints matched the shoes used in Hualan Palace."
"Please consider this carefully."
A murmur rippled through the court.
Consort Gui, Su Zhen, sighed dramatically.
"What a pity… I had thought Xianlan was improving."
"But if one sets fire to the royal archives and goes unpunished, others may follow suit."
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Before the Emperor could respond,
a calm voice rose from the ranks of officials.
"Lord Sun…"
Feng Yuhan stepped forward.
"You claim footprints near the pavilion and oil-stained cloth?"
"And yet Hualan Palace hasn't used oil lamps in over half a year."
⸻
The room fell into hushed silence.
Feng Yuhan continued walking to the front.
"And this 'embroidered silk' bearing the character 'Lan'—"
"Such fabric is used only during auspicious festivals. This week, not a single new garment has been made in that palace."
"I propose we first investigate who brought the cloth into the Jade Pavilion sector before placing any formal charges."
⸻
Emperor Li Sicheng looked at his son.
Something in his gaze shifted ever so slightly.
"Are you certain… that your judgment isn't clouded by bias?"
"I have no reason to favor anyone,"
Feng Yuhan replied, bowing.
"But I have every reason not to stand by while injustice is carried out in the name of the law."
⸻
That afternoon,
Xianlan was invited to examine the newly submitted evidence.
It was a sealed letter—discovered inside a box of ancient scrolls—bearing a signature resembling hers.
She read the contents quietly before replying in a steady voice.
"I will neither deny nor defend myself."
"But I request that the handwriting be compared by an official royal examiner, not a maidservant from the inner court."
"If the accuser truly trusts their evidence, they would not refuse a transparent investigation."
⸻
The room fell silent.
Jiang Xinluo, standing nearby, watched Xianlan closely.
This wasn't a desperate plea of innocence—
It was a calculated invitation for the enemy to expose their own flaws.
⸻
Later that night, in a pavilion amid the garden,
Feng Yuhan approached quietly.
Xianlan was watering a tea shrub from the distant land of Yicheng.
He stood there a moment before speaking.
"You know who's behind this, don't you?"
Xianlan didn't answer directly.
"I only know that someone's panicking—panicking enough to start a fake fire, hoping to burn away the truth."
"But they didn't realize…the archive keeper used to be the older brother of one of my maids."
Feng Yuhan allowed a faint smile.
"You didn't even move your piece… You just laid the board out and let them fall into it themselves."
Xianlan offered a subtle smile.
"If I win because I'm clever, people will forget."
"But if my enemies lose by their own hand… they'll never live it down."