She remarried a cold-faced, powerful man, and the scumbag regretted it and cried his heart out.

Chu Xiangling lightly touched the red carpet, her steps as light as clouds. A few glistening raindrops clung to her silk stockings, shimmering like glass in the flickering candlelight as she twirled and danced. She wore only a plain white gauze dress, as thin as a cicada's wing, revealing glimpses of her slender ankles, adding to her aloof and otherworldly air.

She wore no makeup, her black hair was simply tied up in a loose bun, and a jade hairpin of pure green was inserted diagonally, which made her features even more exquisite, like a white lotus blooming after the rain, pure and unpretentious, and otherworldly.

Her fingertips lightly touched the jade hairpin at her temple, then pushed it in a little further. In the bronze mirror, she saw the scab left from when the headmistress had pricked her earlobe with a silver needle the night before—

This body must bear some scars so that when performing before the emperor, the emperor sitting high on the dragon throne will remember the injustice and blood debt suffered by the Chu family.

"Let's have some fun!"

The musicians of the Imperial Music Bureau held their breath. Chu Xiangling stood in the center of the music, raised her hand and flung out a three-foot-long piece of white silk. The light silk drew a graceful arc in the air, like clouds and mist. When her water sleeves brushed past the bronze lamp, they brought up fine gold dust, which shimmered like starlight in the candlelight before dissipating, leaving only a faint fragrance in the room.

She strives for precision in every movement, and every glance is full of meaning. She is not rehearsing an ordinary song and dance, but rehearsing a meticulously planned petition to the emperor.

These days, she spends her days learning elaborate court etiquette at the Imperial Music Academy, and her nights practicing the dance called "The Startled Swan" over and over again in the dance studio.

She wanted to use the opportunity of performing before the emperor to reveal, bit by bit, the grievances buried deep in her heart and the truth of how she was oppressed by power, to the emperor, the supreme ruler.

This is a high-stakes gamble, a desperate attempt to break through a rock; the slightest misstep could lead to utter destruction and irreversible ruin.

But she had no way out.

She wanted to clear her father's name and make those demons and monsters hiding in the shadows pay the price they deserved.

As the music slowed down, Chu Xiangling stopped and stood still, her eyes shining with a cold light like a cold star.

She tilted her head slightly and asked the old instructor beside her, "Sir, do you think this is acceptable?"

The old instructor was a veteran who had spent many years in the brothel. Time had etched deep marks on his face. He had seen the splendor of the world, the coldness of human relationships, and the intrigues of the court, all of which he had long since become accustomed to.

He carefully examined Chu Xiangling, a hint of admiration on his face. He nodded and said, "Miss Chu is exceptionally intelligent and has a high level of comprehension. This dance already has a certain charm. However..." He hesitated slightly, as if choosing his words carefully, "...that gaze...is too sharp, too piercing, as if it wants to rip out people's hearts and drink their blood."

“You are right, sir.” She curtsied, “but if this dance loses its edge and becomes devoid of character, wouldn’t it be no different from those vulgar women who fawn over the emperor for his favor?”

The old instructor paused for a moment, then sighed again and said earnestly, "When performing in the palace, it is most taboo to be too sharp, especially in front of the emperor. You must know how to restrain yourself. Young lady, you need to restrain yourself even more. Remember, gentleness can overcome strength, and that is the best policy."

Chu Xiangling lowered her eyes, concealing the cold glint in them, and nodded slightly. "I will keep your teachings in mind."

Emperor Hui was a man of deep thoughts and unpredictable moods, making his mind difficult to fathom. If her petition was too straightforward, it would easily arouse the emperor's suspicion and resentment, backfiring on her.

She needs a more subtle and ingenious approach to achieve her goal.

……

Under the dripping eaves of the Duweisi office, Fu Zijin gazed at the dying candle on his desk, his fingertips tracing the ink stains on the edges of the documents.

Dressed in the uniform of a captain, he stood tall and straight as a pine tree, sitting behind a desk piled high with scrolls, yet his face carried a hint of barely perceptible gloom.

Several days have passed since he was transferred to the Commandery.

Although Jiang Jin'an was polite to him on the surface and never made things difficult for him, he always carried a hint of distance and wariness. He did not entrust him with any important tasks, but only asked him to handle some unimportant paperwork and miscellaneous tasks.

The Commandant of the Capital Garrison was the emperor's personal guard, wielding immense power, yet he was sidelined, idle, and rendered a mere figurehead.

Fu Zijin knew perfectly well that Jiang Jin'an was testing him, being wary of him, or perhaps... giving him a warning.

But he was neither in a hurry nor discouraged; he had plenty of time.

Having lived two lives, he had long since learned to be patient and wait. He would slowly infiltrate and gradually dismantle Jiang Jin'an's defenses, eventually taking his place.

He put down the file in his hand, got up and walked to the window. The Duweisi courtyard was silent, with only the pattering rain hitting the tiles, making a monotonous and dull sound.

He squinted, his gaze piercing through the rain, as if he could see the layers of dark clouds covering the capital.

The sudden incident at the Duke of Dingguo's mansion is like a stone thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples that will surely stir up a bloody storm in the imperial court, with various forces stirring up trouble and ready to make their move.

He must find his own opportunity in this storm, seize the moment, and rise to great heights.

"Master Fu."

A voice came from behind him. Fu Zijin turned around and saw a servant dressed in the attire of the Prince Qi's residence standing respectfully at the door.

Fu Zijin's eyes flickered slightly, his mind racing, but his expression remained unchanged as he calmly asked, "What is it?"

The attendant stepped forward and said in a low voice, "His Highness requests your presence to discuss important matters with Lord Fu."

Upon hearing this, Fu Zijin raised an eyebrow, deliberately showing a hint of hesitation on his face, as if he were somewhat surprised and puzzled. "Your Highness has invited me? I wonder what important matter requires Your Highness's personal summons?"

The attendant smiled, a smile that held a deeper meaning and remained enigmatic. “His Highness said that the matter is of great importance and needs to be discussed in person to be fully explained. Lord Fu will find out when he arrives. His Highness awaits your arrival at the residence.”

A dark glint flashed in Fu Zijin's eyes. After a moment's hesitation, he finally nodded. "Very well. Since Your Highness has extended such a warm invitation, how could I dare to refuse? Please lead the way."

As the carriage of Prince Qi's mansion drove through Zhuque Street, its wheels suddenly got stuck in the mud, and the carriage swayed slightly.

Fu Zijin lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and leaned out slightly. He caught a glimpse of several porters carrying heavy gilded wooden boxes, hurrying into a dark alley. The exquisite and intricate patterns on the corners of the boxes were faintly visible, flashing by in the rain.

"My lord, be careful of the night dew, lest you catch a cold."

At the right moment, the attendant handed over a thin blanket embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns. As he moved, the cuff slipped down inadvertently, revealing a faint bluish-gray tattoo—a wolf totem, a totem only found on Northern Death Warriors.

The moment Fu Zijin took the thin blanket, he could clearly hear his heart pounding like a drum, one beat after another, which miraculously overlapped with the muffled drumbeats coming from afar, creating a deafening sound.