Fate Trading System – Chapter 201

Plan A

Guiding Stars 17

Return

Yue Xingyao believed that no matter where one was, the sun and moon remained the same – regardless of weather, whenever they appeared, they were surely the same ones.

So she and Da Huangjie, gazing at the same moon, were in a way looking at each other across the distance.

Four years had passed, and she had grown from six to ten years old.

During these four years, several events of varying significance occurred.

Yue Xingyao considered the most significant event to be her confrontation with her Imperial Father.

She couldn’t help but question him when she heard the Emperor Consort emphasize those words again, seeing that expression once more.

The details of that day remained crystal clear in Yue Xingyao’s memory.

“Yao’er, how were your studies today?”

“I understood everything.”

“And compared to the other princesses? Did you outperform them? You must excel beyond them all, understand?”

Though the Emperor Consort’s face bore a gentle smile, his words made Yue Xingyao, standing below, raise her head to look at him.

Such words had grown tiresome to Yue Xingyao, especially after learning of her true identity, that weariness had transformed into resistance.

Why must she always be compared to others? Why must she always excel beyond them? It was merely for the Emperor Consort’s face.

Her Imperial Father, who claimed to love her, only cared about whether she surpassed others under the Imperial Tutor, demanding she study but never concerning himself with her exhaustion.

“Why must I excel beyond them?”

A surge of emotion rushed through Yue Xingyao’s heart, her resentment so deep she could barely contain herself, forgetting even to address herself as “er chen”.

“Yao’er?”

The Emperor Consort looked at Yue Xingyao in astonishment, seemingly unable to comprehend how his usually obedient and well-behaved daughter could suddenly speak such words.

“Why such a sudden question? Has someone been whispering in your ear? Isn’t it natural that you should excel beyond them?”

It all came down to one thing: status distinction.

As the Emperor Consort’s daughter, and given that the Emperor Consort ranked above other consorts], she was expected to surpass others. Mediocrity would invite ridicule.

Face was truly a peculiar thing.

“Everyone, leave us.”

Yue Xingyao glanced at the palace servants standing around, who immediately bowed and withdrew.

In the palace hall, only father and daughter remained.

“Yao’er, what’s the matter?”

The Emperor Consort sensed something unusual, especially in Yue Xingyao’s expression, and rose from his chair to approach her.

The Emperor Consort was indeed strikingly beautiful, though daily solitude without the Emperor’s affection had added traces of melancholy to his features.

“Imperial Father, tell me, am I truly Mother Emperor’s daughter?”

Yue Xingyao didn’t know what answer she wanted to hear. She hoped the Emperor Consort would deny it, even produce compelling evidence, but deep down, she knew that was impossible.

“What nonsense are you speaking! How could you not be your Mother Emperor’s daughter! Who has been filling your head with such improper thoughts? How could you doubt your Imperial Father?”

The Emperor Consort’s facial expression became unnaturally rigid, then quickly transformed into fierce anger, as if deeply offended by such questioning.

This should have been the normal reaction – anger followed by interrogation – for being wrongly accused of such a thing would indeed be outrageous.

But Yue Xingyao hadn’t missed the Emperor Consort’s initial panic when she first questioned him.

Usually, the Emperor Consort was skilled at concealing emotions, but perhaps because this news was too shocking and sudden, he hadn’t had time to prepare. With Yue Xingyao watching his face intently, she caught those subtle changes.

Indeed, when something was already “set in stone”, why struggle against it?

Yue Xingyao hoped for an impossible answer, for such an answer could pull her from this quagmire of suffering, allowing her to return to how things were before.

“Imperial Father, please tell me, is it true or not?”

“Of course not. Which gossipmonger has been spreading rumors around you? It seems we need to thoroughly cleanse your circle of attendants.”

The Emperor Consort seemed to have calmed down, gently stroking Yue Xingyao’s hair with fingers stained with flower juice.

“She came to see me.”

“Who?”

The Emperor Consort’s body swayed slightly, eyes widening.

“The person in black who visited your chambers years ago. You know who they are, don’t you? Why continue deceiving me now? I’m no longer a child.”

Though, she wasn’t an adult either.

“She came to see you? When?”

“Last night, which is why I came today seeking confirmation.”

“Why did she suddenly come to see you?”

The Emperor Consort’s expression showed immense shock, as if a mask had been torn away, revealing the twisted ugliness beneath.

“So you admit it, Imperial Father? You admit she is my birth mother?”

The Emperor Consort pressed his lips together, a hint of malice gleaming in his eyes.

“Yao’er, you’re clever enough to understand this matter must remain secret. If word gets out, we’ll both fall into an irredeemable situation.”

The Emperor Consort gripped Yue Xingyao’s shoulders, his expression grave.

“I understand, so… Imperial Father, I’m not Mother Emperor’s child, am I? I have no right to inherit any of this, do I?”

“No! I never intended for you to know this, but since you do, you must work even harder. Prove yourself superior to them all. What does royal bloodline matter? You think your Mother Emperor is clever? Yet she’s been dancing in my palm, never caring enough about me to harbor any suspicion.”

The Emperor Consort’s expression turned bitter.

“Yao’er, Imperial Father has nothing left but you. You must maintain this identity and reach the highest position.”

Yue Xingyao nodded, closing her eyes in silent acceptance.

Father and daughter fell into an increasingly awkward silence. Their already distant relationship grew colder, with Yue Xingyao becoming increasingly indifferent toward the Emperor Consort, who could no longer righteously reprimand her and could only acquiesce.

Over these four years, Yue Xingyao wrote many letters but sent none, not knowing where to send them.

Another two years passed.

In six years, not a single letter reached her. Yue Xingyao often wondered if it was because the palace prohibited birds from entering, or perhaps Da Huangjie truly hadn’t written to her at all.

Da Huangjie believed time would dilute their connection and feelings, and Yue Xingyao initially thought the same.

On the day Da Huangjie left, Yue Xingyao thought that beyond having her own affairs to attend to, perhaps she also meant to sever their connection to avoid future awkwardness.

Yet emotions are the most uncontrollable things, and as days passed, Yue Xingyao grew increasingly lonely.

No one to talk with, no one to listen. Perhaps Liujin could, but he wasn’t skilled at lengthy conversations, and their status difference made him unsuitable as a confidante.

Liujin was far more rational than current Yue Xingyao, who carried many secrets she couldn’t share.

The palace grew increasingly dull. She would unconsciously walk to that small courtyard, still regularly cleaned, where flowers and plants hadn’t withered but, without careful tending, maintained a listless appearance – growing freely yet unbeautiful.

Truthfully, she once found everything about this courtyard perfect – the flora, the sunset, and that person who, despite wearing magnificent robes, performed the simplest, most modest tasks of tending to the plants.

But since Su Xin left, Yue Xingyao could no longer feel what she once felt when visiting this place.

These memories weren’t forgotten; rather, through constant reminiscence, they grew deeper.

Yue Xingyao sat motionless in her chamber, the window half-open, slanting sunlight falling before her.

Light and shadow divided, casting her face in flickering illumination.

Liujin entered after knocking, lighting the candle.

After he left, Yue Xingyao stretched her limbs, rubbed her wrists, and approached her writing desk.

She spread out a letter paper, carefully securing its edges with a paperweight. The ink, already grounded, emitted a faint fragrance.

As usual, Yue Xingyao picked up her fine brush, contemplated briefly, then dipped it in ink and began to write.

To Da Huangjie:

Da Huangjie, this is the one thousand and twenty-fourth letter I’ve written to you. Like all the others, it won’t be sent, likely ending up pressed in my box. Since it won’t be delivered, I’ll write freely and at length as always.

I hear the landscape there is cold. Now that winter has come, it must be even colder. It seems war has broken out again. I’m too far away to receive news, and I worry for your safety.

I think I’m beginning to understand the meaning of your words from back then, but I don’t care about such things. Unless we’ve reached an irreconcilable point, but I don’t want that to happen. Couldn’t we be like before?

Perhaps we could become closer. I’ve waited for you for so long – six years have passed, yet you haven’t returned.

I’ll keep waiting here. The potted flower you gave me, I’ve tended it very well. When you return, I’ll show you.

Yue Xingyao wrote these intimate words with a smile, as if all her heart’s thoughts were flowing through the text, though none but her would see them.

“Master! Master!”

Liujin was knocking.

“What is it?”

Yue Xingyao’s face showed displeasure at the interruption.

“The Great Imperial Princess has returned!”

Yue Xingyao froze, causing an ink spot to spread on the letter paper, but she paid it no mind, tossing her brush aside and rushing out.

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