Lace Glory Universe King GL - Chapter 36

Even though Yun Ying kept Zhao Huaizhen’s arrest as discreet as possible, by the next day the explosive news had spread throughout the yamen.

Meanwhile, the people of Xuandu Monastery quietly sowed the rumor among the common folk. Many might not know who the Assistant Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial’s son was, but if they said it was Zhao the Layman, the man guarding the Liangyi Gate, that was a household name. Once news spread that Zhao the Layman had been seized, it was only natural that many would plead and petition for him.

The Court of Judicial Review soon felt the pressure—letters and petitions flooded in, urging Magistrate Yun to clear Zhao’s name quickly.

Before she had even judged the case, others were already handing down their conclusions.

She had intended to immediately investigate Xuandu Monastery, but the Court of State Ceremonial obstructed her at every turn, even memorializing Ziwei Palace: claiming the seals at Liangyi Gate were showing signs of instability and that Zhao must return to the monastery to maintain them. They requested the Empress permit him to remain there in meditation, awaiting the Court’s conclusion.

Sensing the situation slipping away, Yun Ying hurriedly submitted her own memorial, stating that Zhao Huaizhen had already confessed to committing heinous crimes against the Feathered Clan. If released, he would destroy the last traces of evidence.

But she was too late. No sooner had her memorial left the Court than Minister Zhao himself arrived from the Court of State Ceremonial, bearing the Empress’s verbal decree.

“Minister Zhao of the Court of State Ceremonial arrives!”

Yun Ying walked out from the main hall into the courtyard. From the sedan descended a man in purple robes, his face stern. Yun Ying saluted, though her heart tightened.

Minister Zhao did not return the gesture. Coldly, he produced a yellow scroll from his sleeve. “Magistrate Yun, spare the formalities. I am here to convey Her Majesty’s decree. In view of Huaizhen’s meritorious service guarding the seals, he is permitted to meditate at Xuandu Monastery under the supervision of the Court of State Ceremonial.”

“Minister Zhao, this case is grave. Even if you protect him for now—”

“Magistrate Yun!” Zhao’s voice cracked like a whip. “Do you mean to defy the throne?”

Yun Ying’s fingers dug deep into her palm. Always like this. Whenever the scions of the powerful were involved, obstacles arose on every side.

She ordered her deputy to bring Zhao Huaizhen. Soon came the clink of chains dragged across flagstones. Zhao appeared, his white robe sullied with dust, head held high, a faint mocking smile on his lips.

Minister Zhao’s eyes flickered with pain at the sight of his shackled son.

Suddenly, a dark figure dropped from the roof, a crimson gleam slashing straight for Huaizhen’s throat!

Yun Ying reacted instantly. That was Ying’s feather-blade—“Stop!” The Red Tassel Spear flashed forward, steel shrieking against steel as the clash shattered the silence of the Court.

“Yun Ying, stand aside! Today I’ll have his life!” Ying’s eyes blazed with hatred.

Zhao Huaizhen stumbled back, wings of fear unfurling in his gaze. Minister Zhao barked for his guards to protect him.

Steel rang, but Ying spun like a storm, felling them all. Her feather-blade coiled and lashed like a serpent, impossible to match with sword or spear.

Yun Ying planted herself before Huaizhen, spear braced. “Calm yourself! Don’t disrupt imperial justice!”

“Imperial justice?” Ying sneered. “One decree and he walks free—that’s the justice you believe in?”

“The young prince is not dead yet…” Huaizhen muttered darkly behind Yun Ying.

“Shut up!” She drove an elbow into his ribs, forcing a grunt of pain.

Ying’s blade swept again, but Yun Ying blocked left and right, spear flashing with mastery. At last she caught the feather-blade, twisted, and stepped close. Low and urgent, she said, “I know your grief. But kill him here and you’ll only be condemned yourself. Trust me—give me time.”

Ying locked eyes with her, then at last retracted her blade. “Don’t forget—I can take his dog life any time.”

Her wings spread, blotting the sky. In a breath, she was gone.

Minister Zhao’s face darkened. “Rebellion! All of you! Yun Ying, collusion with assassins—this official will see you impeached!”

Yun Ying wearily lowered her spear. “Do as you wish.”

As the guards helped Zhao Huaizhen into the carriage, he cast her a long, mocking smile before the curtain fell.

Three days passed. Heavy-footed, Yun Ying stepped from the Court’s gates. Her memorial had lain unanswered for days. The Deputy Minister avoided her gaze, colleagues steered away from the topic. She knew—the Empress would bury this case. To pursue it further might stir enmity between Heluo and the Feathered lands.

She had failed to give Ying any justice.

“Magistrate Yun, looks like rain tonight.” The old gatekeeper handed her a lantern.

She forced a smile, took it. The frail flame could not lift the shadows in her heart.

Two turns later, a strange gust blew the lantern out. Yun Ying halted, every nerve on edge, hand on her spear. The streets were deathly silent—no passerby, no sound.

Shadows leapt from all sides, surrounding her. They wore black night-garb, copper masks, movements drilled to perfection.

“Hand over the Court’s badge,” the leader rasped.

Yun Ying frowned. What office did these men belong to? Her spear was already in her hand.

But one slipped behind her, palm striking her wrist. The shock nearly tore her weapon away.

“An inner strength master?” she thought, alarmed, and swept her spear in a circle, deflecting blades and arrows in a spray of sparks.

“Impressive—Yun family spear arts.” The leader praised as his figure blurred. A sudden tug—and her Court badge was gone from her belt.

Rage flared; her spearwork turned fierce. But the five moved as one, seamless in attack and defense. Within ten moves, she was pressed hard. A poisoned arrow grazed her shoulder; numbness spread down her side.

“Who sent you?” she demanded, sinking to one knee, spear propping her against the dizziness.

“Why ask, when you’re already dead.” The leader raised a blue-glinting dagger and thrust for her heart.

Yun Ying tried to dodge, but her body betrayed her. A metallic crack—yet no pain came.

She looked up. A silver light darted like a dragon, cutting through the night. Masked men fell one after another.

That light—she knew it too well. The Mirror Blade.

The silver glow receded. Jing stood before her, clad in silvered mail, blade pristine.

“Can you walk?” Jing asked, lifting her. The voice was cold, yet full of concern.

Yun Ying shook her head. The poison had spread. Without another word, Jing swept her into her arms and leapt into the night.

When Yun Ying woke again, she lay in a humble bamboo hut. Her wound had been bandaged. Outside, rain pattered.

“Where is this?” She tried to rise, but half her body was limp.

“South of the city.” Jing poured medicine into a bowl.

“Those men… were they the imperial shadow guard?” Yun Ying asked.

“Wouldn’t be surprising. Do you really think the Empress would let you keep digging? You were naïve not to expect she’d silence you.” Jing lifted her and brought the bowl to her lips.

The bitter taste twisted her face.

“You see? You’d have been better off handing Zhao to Ying. In the Empress’s eyes, Heluo’s reputation outweighs the lives of the Feathered—especially for old crimes. Push further, and you’re fighting Ziwei Palace itself. Fighting all of Chang’an.”

Rain beat heavier on the roof. The room fell silent.

“Drink,” Jing urged.

Yun Ying nodded, obediently drinking. “I never wanted to leave the Court of Judicial Review. Yet now, I can only go like this.”

Jing’s voice softened. “Yun Ying, come with me. This time it was the shadow guard. Next time, it’ll be poison in your cup. A secret decree.”

“…Alright.” Yun Ying lifted her gaze into Jing’s eyes.

For a moment, Jing wanted to pull her into an embrace. Instead, she only clasped her hand tightly. She knew Yun Ying felt loss above all.

“The lone smoke of the Cloudlands, the sails of the Sea Capital, sunrise over the Eastern Seas—the world is vast, Yun Ying.”

Yun Ying gripped her hand back with strength.

That midnight, she woke screaming from a nightmare: the shadow guard’s dagger plunging into her chest. She sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat.

“Bad dream?”

Jing sat by her bed, moonlight haloing her.

“You didn’t sleep?” Yun Ying asked, startled.

“I was keeping watch. They failed once—they’ll come again.” Jing pressed a cool hand to her forehead, wiping away her sweat.

Heat surged through Yun Ying’s chest. Her breath caught. Slowly, she raised a hand and touched Jing’s cheek.

Starlight flickered in Jing’s eyes as she bent and pressed her lips to hers. Yun Ying tasted medicine—bitter, yet soft, fleeting as a butterfly brushing petals.

Her other hand slipped to Jing’s shoulder. Jing deepened the kiss, her long fingers cupping Yun Ying’s face as though she held the sun itself in her palm.

Her lips trailed downward. Yun Ying’s heart pounded like a drum. Her wound was forgotten.

She began to respond.

Sensing it, Jing pressed her whole body against hers, becoming one with the woman she held.

The next day, disguised and mingling in the city, they heard the news: Zhao Huaizhen had been slain by a birdman’s attack.

“Was the birdman caught?” Yun Ying asked.

“Not yet. Poor Zhao. Escaped prison, only to meet this fate.” The gossipy old woman at the next table shook her head.

“Our great hero of Chang’an, gone so tragically…” Yun Ying sighed in feigned lament.

“Indeed.” The old woman clucked her tongue.

They did not linger, leaving the city swiftly.

Outside Chang’an, they debated their first destination.

“We can travel while seeking Ying,” Yun Ying said, chewing her brush as she marked the map. “Freed of office, it’s easier to investigate.”

“Even when we elope, you’re chasing cases?” Jing teased. “And still Ying—doesn’t she ever leave your mind?”

“Can’t change my nature.” Yun Ying leaned over and pecked her lips.

Jing smirked. “Then I suppose you’ll always like me.”

“Hmm,” Yun Ying teased, “not necessarily. Maybe I’ll fall for another version of you, in some mirror-world.”

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