Chapter 3: A Find in the Ruins

When Shen Jingzhe woke, a lingering chill clung to her fingertips—the damp residue of mud from broken porcelain. In her chest, the Calamity Aura that had once clung to her like a parasite had been forcibly stripped away by an invisible power, leaving behind only a faint, stinging ache. It was a reminder: the hunter had been alerted.

She opened her eyes, her gaze as still as a frozen pond. As she scanned the dilapidated curtains of her shelter, she reached a conclusion. Su Wanyi must have sensed that momentary backlash of energy; otherwise, she wouldn't have been so desperate to exile her to this place.

This was the ruin of the Shenwu Palace, the most remote corner of the imperial grounds. Once a solemn site for sacrificing to the gods of the Great Wu, it had devolved into a dumping ground. Rubble piled high, weeds overgrown, and the air thick with the stench of ancient decay. Shen Jingzhe coughed twice, suppressing the metallic taste of blood in her throat, and let her gaze fall upon an unremarkable grayish-blue shard at her feet.

The fragment lay half-buried in the muck, its edges jagged and rough. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a discarded reject from a kiln—dull, lifeless, and smelling faintly of nauseating earth.

"My Lady, why on earth did they pick this godforsaken place?" Cuiwei had been sent here along with her. Looking at the wreckage, the girl's eyes were full of grievance and confusion. She carefully helped Shen Jingzhe up, unable to stop herself from complaining, "The servants outside say even the rats find the smell too strong here. Please, don't touch anything, My Lady. It's filthy."

Shen Jingzhe ignored her. Her entire focus was locked on that shard. The moment her fingertips touched the cold porcelain, her "Broken Porcelain, Seeking Veins" cheat activated. The world instantly stripped away its color, fading into a stark black and white—except for the shard, which began to glow with a faint, pure purple light.

This wasn't ordinary Auspicious Aura. It was Royal Aura, so dense it was almost tangible. Within it was a sliver of vitality that could feed back into the host, and it was already flowing steadily into her meridians.

"My Lady?" Seeing Shen Jingzhe staring blankly at a piece of trash with a strange expression, Cuiwei panicked. She tugged at her sleeve. "Is the poison still acting up? Are you having hallucinations? Let's not touch that dirty thing—you'll catch some bad luck."

Shen Jingzhe shook her head. With a swift motion, she wrapped the shard in her sleeve and tucked it deep against her chest. The movement was discreet and fast, leaving Cuiwei without a clear view of the details. "It's fine," she said tonelessly. "Though it is broken, it can stabilize a home. There are many sinister things in this palace; I need something solid to weigh down the luck."

"Cuiwei, guard the door. If anyone approaches, shout immediately."

"Stabilize a home?" Cuiwei looked bewildered, glancing at the crumpled bundle in Shen Jingzhe's bosom and curling her lip. "My Lady, you've really gone mad from the fever. In this pile of junk, what could possibly suppress the malevolence of the Shenwu Palace? I think you should just rest. I'll go to the kitchens and beg for some hot water to wash the mud off you."

Shen Jingzhe didn't argue. She simply closed her eyes to conserve her energy, feeling the warmth gradually rising in her chest. She wasn't certain of the shard's ultimate value, but the words "Royal Aura" were enough to tempt anyone—and enough to serve as a bargaining chip for her eventual comeback. In a palace built on suspicion, secrets were the only tools for survival, and this shard was the first hidden card in her hand.

Just then, the sound of low footsteps echoed from outside the ruins. They were steady and powerful, each step feeling as if it were treading on the nerves of those listening. Shen Jingzhe snapped her eyes open, a flash of vigilance in her gaze. Through the shattered window frame, she saw a figure dressed in black tactical gear standing not far away. He had his back to them, seemingly checking the surrounding sentries.

It was Gu Tingye, the Marquis of Zhonguo. Why was this cold-faced power player appearing in such a remote wasteland?

Gu Tingye turned around. His gaze was as sharp as a blade, piercing through the crumbling walls to land directly on Shen Jingzhe. Unlike other nobles, he wore neither pity nor mockery. His black eyes were bottomless pits as he coldly scanned the bulge in her clothing. After a moment, his thin lips parted, his voice chilling and devoid of warmth.

"Princess Shen has such refined tastes." Gu Tingye walked closer, stopping three paces away. His eyes held undisguised irony. "A descendant of the previous dynasty's royal blood, now scavenging for rubble. It seems the 'quiet recuperation' granted by Her Highness the Noble Consort has indeed cured your delusions of grandeur. You've learned how to bend, treating ground-trash as if it were a treasure."

Shen Jingzhe didn't move. She met his gaze calmly, as if they were merely discussing the weather. A tiny, faint curve touched the corner of her mouth—not a smile of plea, but one of pure indifference and detachment. When she spoke, her voice was as crisp as ice hitting a jade cup.

"The Marquis overpraises me," she said softly, her fingers lightly brushing the shard beneath her sleeve, feeling the flow of Royal Aura. "To me, this is not trash, but... a lonely, masterless soul. I am a sentimental person and could not bear to see it left in the dust, so I kept it. As a pillar of the state, surely the Marquis wouldn't let such a trivial matter disturb his peace of mind?"

Gu Tingye frowned. He hadn't expected Shen Jingzhe to be able to speak so flawlessly in such a wretched state. He had assumed that someone suffering from the poison would be either manic or unconscious; he hadn't expected her to remain this lucid and cunning. He narrowed his eyes, searching for a crack in her calm facade.

"A lonely soul?" Gu Tingye sneered, stepping forward. The pressure he exerted made the surrounding air feel frozen. "Shen Jingzhe, you really are a lunatic. If it's just a 'soul' as you claim, then why do I smell a strange fragrance? A common kiln reject could never possess such a scent."

"You had best explain yourself. Otherwise, this Marquis doesn't mind investigating exactly what unsavory things are buried beneath these ruins."

Alarm bells rang in Shen Jingzhe's mind, but she maintained her aloof, haughty expression. She knew that the more nervous she felt, the easier it would be to slip up. She took a deep breath to steady her heart and spoke in a tone that was almost innocent.

"The Marquis has a keen nose." Shen Jingzhe slowly tidied her sleeve, as if the previous tension had never existed. "Perhaps it is the smell of rotting wood that has accumulated here for years. I am frail and sensitive to smells; I merely mistook it for the scent of ancient earth. If the Marquis has no other business, please leave."

"I must continue my recuperation. It is not fitting to speak too much, lest I disturb the malevolence of this place."

Gu Tingye stared at her for a long time, emotions churning in those cold eyes before finally settling. He clearly didn't believe a word of her lies, but he feared the eyes watching from the shadows even more. Though Xiao Jingyan had ordered her exile, digging too deep here would inevitably invite the Emperor's suspicion.

"I hope you're telling the truth." Gu Tingye's voice was freezing. He turned to leave, but stopped abruptly, throwing a warning over his shoulder without looking back. "Shen Jingzhe, I am letting you go today out of respect for the old ties of the previous dynasty, not out of pity. Do not think these ruins are a safe haven. If I find anything else unusual, I will not give you a second chance."

Gu Tingye vanished into the overgrown weeds as quickly as a ghost. Shen Jingzhe's taut nerves finally relaxed. She lay back down on the ragged mattress and pulled the cloth-wrapped shard from her bosom. The porcelain was no longer cold; it had become searing hot, even pulsing with a rhythmic beat, as if responding to something.

Cuiwei watched from the side, completely missing the subtext of Gu Tingye's words. She murmured to herself, "Why did the Marquis leave in such a hurry? It seems your words worked, My Lady—you scared him off! You were so brave just now; my heart was leaping out of my chest, but you acted like you didn't even hear him."

Shen Jingzhe didn't answer. Her entire consciousness was immersed in the strange sensation emanating from the shard. She closed her eyes, extending the reach of "Broken Porcelain, Seeking Veins" to its limit, feeling the flow of the Royal Aura. Initially, the energy had simply circled her, forming a weak protective shield to offset the palace's gloom.

But now, the Royal Aura suddenly leaped violently, like a waking dragon, extending outward in a massive surge.

The vein of energy wasn't pointing toward the ruins, nor toward the nearby side halls. It stretched far beyond the layers of palace walls, pointing directly toward the heart of the imperial city—toward Qianqing, the symbol of supreme power. Shen Jingzhe snapped her eyes open, a mixture of shock and ecstasy flashing through them.

"Cuiwei, do you hear it?" Shen Jingzhe whispered, her voice trembling with uncontrollable excitement. "Beneath these ruins... there is something else."

Cuiwei rubbed her ears, looking blank. "My Lady, aside from the wind whistling through the tiles, I don't hear anything. Are you having a heatstroke?"

"It's not a heatstroke." Shen Jingzhe gripped the shard tightly, feeling the increasingly dense and violent surge of luck. The power seemed to be guiding her, urging her to pursue a deeper secret. She looked out at the pitch-black night, a cold smile curling her lips.

Su Wanyi thought she had exiled her to a place of death, unaware that she had actually provided the stairs to power. The Royal Aura in this shard didn't just belong to her; it was connected to a staggering vein of power that had been buried beneath the capital for a hundred years.

The night was as black as ink, and the wind in the ruins grew more shrill, sounding like the wailing of ghosts. Shen Jingzhe squeezed the shard in her bosom. The searing heat burned through her clothes into her palm, igniting an ambition that had long been dormant in the Cold Palace. She said nothing more, simply waiting—waiting for the echo from the depths of the palace that would completely overturn the balance of power.