Fate Trading System – Chapter 196

Plan A

Guiding Stars 12

The Truth

Yue Xingyao hadn’t thought that deeply about it. Although unlike other children who were playful and enjoyed games, she was precocious and wise beyond her years, she hadn’t considered that Su Xin would become her rival during their interactions.

The notion of viewing others as rivals was a concept instilled by the Emperor Consort. The Emperor Consort told her that daughters born to other consorts would be her future competitors, and they would all vie for that supreme position. Only one person could ascend to that position – the ultimate victor – so she must surpass everyone else to become the final winner and claim that throne.

The reason she must ascend to that throne was simply because she was the Emperor Consort’s daughter.

Whether it was legitimate or simply impossible to escape this power struggle, she had compelling reasons that forced her involvement.

When Yue Xingyao considered this possibility that Liujin mentioned, everything suddenly became clear, as if the layers of mist before her had been swept away, revealing what seemed to be the most likely truth.

They all assumed Su Xin would never aspire to that position, so when the Emperor Consort was instilling these concepts in Yue Xingyao, he completely ignored Su Xin’s existence. The Emperor Consort believed that since Su Xin had no father and no influence in the previous dynasty, and could only rely on others in the imperial court, how could she possibly compete for that position, or rather, how could she ever win it?

From the beginning, the Emperor Consort had excluded Su Xin, never considering the child as a potential heir to the throne.

Influenced by this seemingly obvious logic, Yue Xingyao also believed Su Xin would absolutely never compete for that position. Therefore, she thought Su Xin could stand alongside her in the same camp. If Su Xin wanted to engage in state affairs, she could assist her; if Su Xin preferred to find solace in nature, she would allow Su Xin to be a carefree princess.

Yue Xingyao possessed an inexplicable confidence, as if that throne would definitely fall into her hands. She didn’t know where this confidence came from, but it was inexplicably mixed within her bloodline. It wasn’t blind confidence or arrogance – it was well-founded, though Yue Xingyao hadn’t yet discovered its source.

Yue Xingyao thought about something crucial: why did they take it for granted that Su Xin wouldn’t compete for that position?

Isn’t the pursuit of power human nature?

Moreover, Su Xin held the position of Imperial First Daughter, many years older than them. She already had an advantage in terms of thinking and planning. Although she had no backing in the imperial court [後宮 | hòu gōng | rear palace where imperial consorts reside] or connections in the previous dynasty, why couldn’t she seek them out?

Yue Xingyao finally discovered what was strange about it all. She finally understood why her Imperial Father’s attitude toward Su Xin was peculiar, why he spoke of Su Xin with that contemptuous yet pitying tone.

The Emperor Consort believed she was just a useless pawn, too weak to ever pursue power and profit.

For Yue Xingyao to consider all these complexities at just five years old was already quite remarkable. The things she contemplated were beyond what she should be bearing at her age, so she clutched her head, feeling lost in confusion.

But she couldn’t help forcing herself to consider one question: would she and Da Huangjie truly become opponents in the future?

The future was unknowable, the past needn’t be recalled, and Yue Xingyao had no way to grasp the present because her age was her limitation, binding her completely.

“Liujin, is Da Huangjie really thinking about that position?”

“Master, this servant dares not randomly speculate about Her Highness’s thoughts, nor dare I presume to declare that Her Highness definitely has such intentions. This servant merely thinks, who wouldn’t want to sit in that position?”

Liujin felt his thoughts were becoming somewhat derailed. He knew his words were nearly treasonous – if others heard them, he would surely die a horrible death. But perhaps because he had held back for too long, many thoughts bottled up inside were particularly painful. He was acutely aware of his position, and incredibly grateful that he could serve by the Fifth Imperial Highness’s side.

Weren’t there enough deaths in the palace each year? To survive well, one could only pretend to be deaf and mute, becoming someone who couldn’t see, hear, or speak. Those who thrived in the palace, weren’t they all shrewd people who knew how to adapt to circumstances, please others, and read minds while concealing their own thoughts? Liujin knew he couldn’t become such a person, and truthfully, he didn’t want to become such a person. But in this survival of the fittest, especially evident within the imperial palace, if those in power wanted his life, it would take just one word, and he might die in some abandoned well unknown to others.

“This servant is neither particularly eloquent nor especially good at discerning situations. All I can do is attend to Fifth Highness’s daily needs. I may not be able to solve your worries, but Fifth Highness will continue to grow, while this servant’s fate remains uncertain. This servant only hopes that Highness can grow up quickly, obtain what you wish to obtain, protect those you wish to protect, and preserve what you wish to preserve.”

Liujin had already developed some crisis awareness. He had long sensed that the Emperor Consort’s desire to control the Fifth Highness was unusually strong. This control wasn’t about the Fifth Highness’s daily life, such as what to eat, drink, or wear, but rather about the people around the Fifth Highness – whether they were serving her, associating with her, or communicating with her.

This dismissal of Liujin seemed like a signal – he feared that if there was a next time, he might not have the chance to return. It might not necessarily mean being silenced permanently, but perhaps being sent to do hard labor somewhere, or to some obscure place. Either way, days like the present might never come again.

Liujin was somewhat introverted and not good at speaking, disliking interaction with others, but this didn’t mean he was a fool. He observed many things, kept them in his heart without speaking of them, but when he knew something might damage his interests, he would strive to maximize his own benefits.

“If one does not think of oneself, heaven and earth will destroy them” [人不為己，天誅地滅 | rén bù wéi jǐ, tiān zhū dì miè | ancient Chinese saying about self-preservation].

Of course, selfishness isn’t necessarily right, but if people don’t think for themselves, who else will?

Liujin initially only wanted to show concern, but didn’t expect such a small conversation to lead to so many things. Since he had already started, he didn’t mind continuing deeper, helping Yue Xingyao understand. He knew his master was incredibly precocious, and he didn’t deny that he was stirring things up – he wanted the Fifth Highness to be more proactive, not just passively following the Emperor Consort’s orders.

“This Imperial One somewhat understands your meaning, but not completely. Liujin, I misjudged you before, not realizing you had such complexity in your heart.”

“Master, never judge people only by their surface. You’re still young, with much room to grow. This servant has long known you’re no common thing, and will surely shine brilliantly in the future. Today’s words serve as this servant’s pledge of allegiance – regardless of circumstances hereafter, this servant will follow Master unto death.”

Liujin knelt down, showing his loyalty to the five-year-old child.

His appearance wasn’t particularly handsome – neither first-rate nor soul-stirring – just ordinary, with unremarkable eyes, slightly refined features, and a forgettable face. Yet the emotion he displayed at this moment drew irresistible attention.

If Su Xin could see this scene, she would surely say that a protagonist is truly a protagonist, impressive whether young or grown, and even the servants around them are no ordinary characters.

How could a common servant have such keen insight, think so deeply, and lay such foundations at such a young age?

Some things, even heard hundreds of times, won’t be remembered, while others need only be heard once to be etched in memory forever.

Although Yue Xingyao had figured out these principles herself, she still hadn’t given up going to get close to Su Xin every day.

After reading many poems and books, she could perhaps explain her feelings in words.

To say it was like a moth to a flame would be too dramatic and inappropriate, for she wouldn’t sacrifice herself. Yet she indeed pursued Su Xin like a creature in darkness chasing light – it seemed like an instinct carved into her bones, making even Yue Xingyao herself feel puzzled.

Yue Xingyao was still very young and couldn’t contain her impulses. She wanted to confront Su Xin right now, to clarify everything. She wanted to ask if things were really as they seemed.

Yue Xingyao wanted to leave, but Liujin stopped her.

“Highness, where are you going? Are you planning to find the Elder Imperial Highness now?”

“Mm.”

“This servant believes now is not an appropriate time. Even if you learn the truth, what then? Master, you want to ask for clarity, but it’s merely for a yes or no answer. Yet what difference would either answer make? If it’s yes, then you’ll become opponents in the future; if it’s no, then her rejection of you has other reasons – perhaps she doesn’t want to be too close to you to avoid other troubles. If the Elder Imperial Highness has no interest in the throne, then power would truly be a great burden to her.”

Liujin thought things through clearly, so he made his timely intervention.

Some truths in this world need not be understood. Sometimes, pursuing answers to the bitter end only leads to heartbreaking results. That’s why some people choose their own relatives, living in a carefully woven dream, while others flee in fear, running far away, avoiding knowledge of the truth.

Yue Xingyao deflated. In that brief moment, she had thought about too many things, overwhelming her like a crushing weight. She rubbed her forehead and decided to give up.

Another year passed steadily, with nothing happening, all peaceful and calm.

The revenge Su Xin had anticipated didn’t come. Xianfei [賢妃 | xián fēi | title of an imperial consort] and Yue Xinglan seemed to have learned their lesson, showing no inappropriate behavior.

Fourteen’s surveillance did hear some news, but this father and daughter pair hadn’t planned to implement their scheme immediately. They only mentioned it briefly at the new beginning, and never brought it up again.

Su Xin had to admire that Xianfei was truly a clever person. He chose to believe his daughter’s explanation, and there were palace servants as witnesses, but he didn’t act on any impulse for revenge. Instead, he calmed down and considered the situation.

Xianfei believed that elimination at this time wasn’t a wise choice, and might even bring trouble upon himself.

This man was frighteningly rational, and also very petty, holding grudges, but had exceptional endurance and patience, believing in the saying “A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years” [君子報仇十年不晚 | jūn zǐ bào chóu shí nián bù wǎn | traditional Chinese saying about patience in revenge].

Although this was like a time bomb, unknown when it would explode, it saved Su Xin from trouble in the short term. She didn’t want to spend more energy on other matters.

While Su Xin was waiting for opportunities within her plan, something else she had long awaited occurred.

The source of Yue Xingyao’s transformation was revealed.

The four seasons came and went hurriedly, and through this cycle, over this year, Yue Xingyao hadn’t given up communicating with Su Xin. Though her visits weren’t frequent, she maintained the same frequency as before, showing a very intimate attitude.

This year, Yue Xingyao had grown considerably taller and more mature, while Su Xin was also in her growth period, her height shooting upward.

When she received Fourteen’s prompt, Su Xin was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her chamber, practicing internal martial arts.

Fourteen told her to wait patiently, saying it would help capture the recording.

Su Xin had always trusted Fourteen, so hearing this, she continued her cultivation, waiting for Fourteen’s notification.

Su Xin hadn’t planned to go interfere with others’ affairs, nor had she planned to rush over with consolation afterward – firstly, there was no good reason, and secondly, it didn’t fit her character.

【Image capture complete, preparing to project onto host’s retina.】

As always, Yue Xingyao sat in her palace study, holding a thick book, carefully reading bit by bit.

She was literate, and when she encountered characters she didn’t recognize, she would make notes. She was reading historical texts, finding them quite interesting.

There were no palace servants attending around her; she seemed accustomed to being alone.

A dark shadow appeared beside her, startling her.

“Who are you, daring to intrude into the imperial palace?”

Yue Xingyao put down her book and, surprisingly bold, spoke calmly with the black-clad figure. The candlelight flickered, adding a ghostly atmosphere to the room.

“Aren’t you afraid? I am, after all, a person of unknown origin.”

The black-clad person wore a face covering, their voice somewhat deep but pleasant to hear.

“If you don’t leave, I will call for others.”

Yue Xingyao didn’t know where this assassin came from, but their skills must be exceptionally high.

In a flash, Yue Xingyao felt a pain in her finger, and a drop of blood fell onto a stone.

The stone was transparent, looking quite unusual.

It was the famous Bloodline Stone from the continent – if two people shared blood ties, their blood would merge within the stone. The closer the relationship, the more completely the blood would merge.

The black-clad person dripped their own blood into it, and then something miraculous happened. Inside the transparent stone, the two drops of blood swiftly merged together, proving their inseparable blood relationship.

“So it is true. Who would have thought that after all my years of wandering, my only offspring would be in the imperial palace.”

The black-clad person had come merely to try their luck, and upon discovering the result, could only feel overwhelming emotion.

Yue Xingyao’s eyes widened, her mood clearly unsettled.

It should be said that no one could remain calm – after living peacefully for several years, suddenly having a stranger appear before you claiming to be your birth mother, who wouldn’t be shaken?

“What nonsense are you speaking? If you don’t leave, This Imperial One will have you arrested.”

“Shh… calm down. I know you’re clever, my daughter.”

“I’m not! Get out!”

Before Yue Xingyao could say more, she found her entire body rigid and immobile, unable to speak.

The one who struck was clearly the woman before her whose face remained hidden, her martial arts reaching a terrifying level.

“I think it’s better if you quietly listen, so you can hear everything I have to say.”

The black-clad person pulled down their mask, revealing their face.

Yue Xingyao’s face bore a slight resemblance to hers, though only at present.

Yue Xingyao looked nothing like the Emperor, but strongly resembled the Emperor Consort, so no one dared harbor suspicions, nor did anyone dare question the Emperor Consort’s identity.

“As you can see, I am indeed your birth mother. This is indisputable. You’re a clever child; I believe you can accept this fact.”

“I’m dying, poisoned. Even horses stumble, so I plan to pass everything I own to my descendant. I’m quite promiscuous, I won’t deny that. I’ve left many seeds in the jianghu. So I patiently searched for them one by one. Perhaps it’s karmic retribution – those I thought were my daughters turned out to be children from others’ affairs. Could it be because I caused too many affairs myself, so now I face retribution?”

“Before your birth, I entered the palace, heard of your Imperial Father’s beauty, and spent several days in intimacy. Don’t look at me that way – the first time was indeed against his will, but the second and third times, he willingly lay in bed for me. Perhaps because he wasn’t favored and desperately wanted a child. Tsk, such a pitiful man. I’ve always enjoyed saving beautiful people who are lonely in their chambers.”

“Don’t disbelieve me, thinking this is all fabricated. It’s all true. If you don’t believe it, you can ask your Imperial Father, see if he dares to admit it. Though if you ask him, he’ll surely panic and fear, after all, it’s an unspeakable secret between us. I’m dying so it doesn’t matter – the Emperor can’t trace anything to me anyway. But for him, his glory and wealth would likely vanish, and you wouldn’t fare well either.”

The woman walked around the room, speaking these facts with a malice-filled tone.

She didn’t look like someone near death at all, appearing quite vigorous and alive.

“I have four followers: one skilled in disguise, able to transform into anyone you want them to become; one skilled in medicine and poison, capable of both miraculous healing and dealing death; one skilled in stealth, able to hide silently anywhere and excel at gathering intelligence; one skilled in combat, reliable for both assassination and open protection. I will give them all to you later. If your goal is to ascend to that throne, I believe they will be very useful to you.”

“The last thing I want to give you is a great gift.”

“This is my lifetime of cultivated power, which I’ll transfer to you shortly, along with my practice methods and insights, all contained in this small book. You can study it yourself.”

The woman placed the items on the bed. Though she was giving her last instructions, she maintained an unhurried attitude.

Yue Xingyao’s initial shock and anger had transformed into other emotions. She began to believe the woman’s words.

No one would give you many things without reason, except for blood relatives, or those who want something in return.

The woman lifted Yue Xingyao onto the bed and began undoing her clothes.

Yue Xingyao let out a muffled groan, feeling many streams of heat flowing into her body, nourishing her meridians, finally gathering in one place.

“I’ll help seal these things temporarily, until you can gradually convert them into your own.”

“I must go now. I don’t want to die here – how unsightly that would be. After my death, my four followers will come before you to serve.”

The woman released Yue Xingyao’s pressure points and wiped blood from her lips.

Her face, which had appeared full and healthy just moments ago, now became sunken, her lips turning blue-white, looking like someone about to die.

“I have a question to ask you.”

“Ask.”

“Why choose to tell me, and not Imperial Father?”

“Him? Honestly, I don’t much like him. I merely coveted his beauty. Telling him these things would only drive him mad. Back when we were intimate, he only wanted to take revenge on the Emperor.”

The woman pressed several pressure points on her body, and with some effort, used her clean hand to touch Yue Xingyao’s face.

“You are my only bloodline. I had to see you at least once. If you don’t want to compete for power, my people can protect your safety for half a lifetime. Though they too will die – don’t rely on them too much.”

The woman spoke only these final words, leaving no name, and departed as gracefully as she had arrived.

Yue Xingyao gathered the items left on the bed and began to empty her mind. She couldn’t confide these matters to anyone, could only endure this pain alone.

Yue Xingyao cried silently, making no sound, only her body trembling continuously.

Su Xin finished watching the recording, understanding why Yue Xingyao had changed so dramatically.

Yue Xingyao’s pride and self-esteem had collapsed. She had viewed her identity as too important, due in no small part to the Emperor Consort’s daily indoctrination.

The Emperor Consort told Yue Xingyao: You are the Emperor Consort’s daughter, so you should be above others, so you must obtain that position.

It was true that Yue Xingyao was the Emperor Consort’s daughter, but what use was that if she wasn’t the Emperor’s child?

Yue Xingyao felt ashamed of her identity, being merely proof of Imperial Father’s infidelity. She wasn’t of imperial bloodline at all, so where could any sense of superiority come from? It was all just delusion.

Yue Xingyao thought about many things, but most importantly, this must never be discovered. She didn’t want to reach the point of no return.

Yue Xingyao even developed a twisted hatred toward the Emperor Consort.

Why was the truth like this? No… she was the Emperor’s daughter… the Fifth Imperial Princess…

Yue Xingyao tried to weave herself a lie, then cruelly shattered it herself.

Calm down, must stay calm.

Yue Xingyao lay in bed, but couldn’t fall asleep at all.

Yue Xingyao began to shrink back, no longer wanting to pursue that position, because she simply didn’t have that identity.

But if she didn’t act, would others not still see her as a threat?

Yue Xingyao disliked feeling controlled by others. She clutched her blanket, showing intense inner conflict.

At this moment, she was still just a six-year-old child.

When what you believed to be true turns out false, the impact is no different from the collapse of faith itself.

For the past six years, she believed she was the Emperor’s daughter, thus entitled to enjoy everything. But someone told her she wasn’t.

Yue Xingyao’s pride was built upon being of imperial blood, and now that was stripped away.

Su Xin understood why she later became so frenzied. Yue Xingyao felt somewhat inferior, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be.

As for the so-called imperial bloodline, if they were all eliminated, it would cease to exist.

And her bloodline would become legitimate, passed down through generations.

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