Reborn Nine Times, the Tyrant Always Wants to Imprison Me - Chapter 8

“Young lady? Young lady?”

The familiar voice jolted Shen Fangru awake once more. Her eyes snapped open to find herself standing again before the jade steps of the governor’s mansion, the apricot blossom embroidery on her moon-white ruqun shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

“This is… the third time,” she murmured inwardly, her fingers instinctively tracing the Amethyst Rosary around her wrist. This time, she keenly noticed two beads were missing from the rosary – what was originally an eighteen-bead strand now held only sixteen.

Fangru’s heart sank heavily. Did the rosary lose one bead with each rebirth? Did that mean… her chances at rebirth were limited?

“Young lady, are you feeling unwell?” The maid beside her asked with concern, her voice identical to previous lives.

Fangru took a deep breath, suppressing the memories surging in her chest.

The first time, Zhou Ling had forcibly taken her into the palace, where she watched Gu Zhou be killed by Li Zuo; the second time, she successfully negotiated with Zhou Ling, only to be stabbed in the back by Lin Yueyao just as she was about to leave with Gu Zhou…

“I’m fine,” she replied softly, her gaze sweeping across the familiar surroundings.

Noble young women still moved about in small groups, some adjusting their hair ornaments, others whispering among themselves.

And by the distant corridor pillar, Lin Yueyao was pretending to casually glance their way, her seemingly gentle eyes hiding venomous daggers.

Fangru quickly averted her gaze, her heart pounding violently in her chest. This time, she would not repeat the same mistakes.

“Miss Shen, why are you still here? The banquet is about to begin.” The master of ceremonies’ voice came from behind, the exact same urging from her memories.

She discreetly adjusted her sleeves, her eyes scanning the hall full of jewel-adorned noble women before heading straight for the garden.

The lessons from her previous two lives had taught her that while Zhou Ling was cruel, he at least kept his word; whereas the seemingly delicate Lin Yueyao was the truly deadly viper.

The hall blazed with lights, the sound of traditional music drifting melodiously.

Holding up her skirt, Fangru moved through the crowd of revelers, the memory tracks from her previous lives clearly emerging in her mind. Zhou Ling would always slip away alone to the garden pavilion when the banquet was halfway through – her only chance to speak with him privately away from the crowd.

The night breeze carried waves of floral fragrance as she quickened her steps toward the outer courtyard.

As she turned past a carved corridor pillar, her peripheral vision caught Zhao Minglan leaning against the vermilion railing along the thoroughfare, holding that glass of crimson wine, his eyes glinting with ill intent.

Sure enough, he was waiting for her with that wine glass again.

“Miss Zhao.” Fangru’s lips curved into a perfectly measured smile. Before the other could react, her fingers subtly brushed past the edge of the crystal glass.

The wine immediately changed its trajectory, spreading like spilled ink from chest to hem. Several drops even splashed onto her carefully applied makeup, leaving ridiculous red streaks through the powder.

“Oh my!”

The surrounding crowd gasped.

“You!” Zhao Minglan stood frozen, the glass shattering on the ground with a crash.

Fangru feigned surprise, covering her lips: “Miss Zhao, how could you be so careless?” Her clear voice drew the attention of nearby noble women. “Could it be this crystal glass was too heavy to hold steady?”

“Clearly you…”

“What about me?” Fangru stepped forward, her moon-white skirt sweeping over the wine stain on the ground. “I’ve been standing here without moving.” Her almond-shaped eyes scanned the surroundings. “All my sisters witnessed this, didn’t they?”

Several noble ladies who had been bullied by Zhao Minglan in the past lowered their heads to suppress their laughter.

Su Wanqing nearby even let out an audible chuckle: “Sister Zhao’s ‘bridal attire’ today is quite… distinctive.”

Zhao Minglan’s face flushed from red to ashen, but Shen Fangru had already turned and walked away.

As she reached the garden, the daughter of the Minister of Ceremonies was, just as in her previous life, dressed in extravagant attire, holding a crystal cup while preparing flower wine.

Observing Lin Yueyao being fawned over by everyone, Fangru suddenly felt it was all rather dull.

Memories from her past life surged in her heart—she had already foreseen Lin Yueyao’s tragic end.

Whether she continued her obsession with Zhou Ling or chose Xu Ziqian, she would ultimately meet a miserable fate.

Why bother seeking revenge?

Fangru didn’t pause her steps and walked straight past her.

“In such a hurry, Miss Shen? Off to visit your imprisoned fiancé?” Lin Yueyao suddenly stepped sideways, blocking her path.

“Step aside,” Fangru’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “I have no interest in playing games with you.”

“Miss Shen truly won’t indulge me?” Lin Yueyao lightly swirled the crystal cup, causing the pink and white petals inside to suddenly churn. “This wine is infused with mermaid tears from the South Sea. Drinking it will make one’s skin…”

The liquid in the cup abruptly roiled violently, with crimson threads spiraling up from the bottom like living creatures.

Under the astonished gazes of the onlookers, those red threads intertwined on the wine’s surface, forming a ferocious ghostly face!

“Ah!” Lin Yueyao screamed, releasing the cup. As the crystal shattered on the ground, the ghostly face surged toward her rose-colored skirt with the splashing wine, instantly bleaching the golden-threaded peonies pale where it touched.

Su Wanqing leisurely drew a mermaid silk handkerchief from her sleeve, feigning surprise as she covered her lips with a laugh: “Don’t panic, Sister Lin. This is merely the ‘Vermilion Trick’ from the Western Regions.” She bent down to wipe Lin Yueyao’s skirt, and where the handkerchief passed, the faded peonies gradually took on a pink, petal-like hue. “It changes color upon contact with wine—perfect for adding some color to your attire.”

The surrounding noble ladies finally understood—Su Wanqing must have tampered with the wine earlier.

The crowd could no longer hold back their laughter, some even giggling aloud.

Lin Yueyao trembled with rage, frantically wiping at the stains on her face, only to smear them further until her face was a patchwork of red and white.

“Oh dear, how forgetful of me,” Su Wanqing blinked with feigned remorse. “These stains require milk to be cleansed properly.” She turned to Fangru with a playful wink. “Miss Shen, didn’t we agree to view the night-blooming cereus? We’ll miss it if we don’t go now.”

Su Wanqing tried to pull Shen Fangru away, but Lin Yueyao had already charged forward, striding up to Su Wanqing and raising her hand to slap her face.

Slap!

A sharp crack echoed—but it was Fangru who had seized Lin Yueyao’s wrist first.

Though she had been standing behind Su Wanqing, seeing Lin Yueyao’s aggressive approach, Fangru stepped forward swiftly, her fingers clamping down hard on Lin Yueyao’s raised wrist.

“Shen Fangru!” Lin Yueyao shrieked. “How dare you—”

“How dare I what?” Fangru’s voice was icy, her grip tightening further. “Miss Lin attempts public assault, and now questions me?”

Zhao Minglan immediately rushed forward: “Shen Fangru, let go!” She reached to pull Fangru’s hair, but Su Wanqing caught her wrist.

“Miss Zhao,” Su Wanqing smiled radiantly as she stepped between the two, her fingertips subtly pressing against Zhao Minglan’s wrist acupoint. “Tonight is the Xuanji Banquet attended by His Majesty himself.” Her voice was gentle, yet the force in her hand made Zhao Minglan pale with pain. “If your nails were to scratch anyone’s face…”

Seeing Zhao Minglan restrained by Su Wanqing, Fangru skillfully pulled Lin Yueyao, spinning her halfway around.

Caught off guard, Lin Yueyao stumbled and fell toward Zhao Minglan, the two collapsing in a heap.

“Let’s go!” Fangru grabbed Su Wanqing’s wrist and tried to leave.

“Stop them!” Lin Yueyao’s hysterical shriek came from behind.

She struggled to push herself up, disheveled. “Anyone who lets them leave today will have the Court of Imperial Sacrifices as their enemy!”

Several noblewomen friendly with the Lin family immediately gathered around, lifting their skirts.

Fangru felt someone tug at her silk shawl, pearl buttons scattering across the floor. In the chaos, she saw Lin Yueyao snatch a silver wine jug from the table and charge forward with a distorted expression.

At the critical moment, Fangru swiftly grabbed the celadon fruit plate from the table to block.

Just as the porcelain plate was raised mid-air, a distinctively veined hand suddenly reached out from the side, clamping around her wrist like iron pincers.

“Miss Shen has quite the temper.”

Zheng Yu’s cold voice sounded by her ear. With a slight exertion, her fingers went numb, and the porcelain plate crashed onto the bluestone floor, shattering into pieces.

Lin Yueyao stopped her advance, a triumphant look spreading across her face.

Fangru’s pupils contracted slightly. Zheng Yu? He had never appeared at the banquets in her previous two lives.

“Is Lord Zheng planning to bend the law for personal gain?” She looked up, enduring the pain. “Why didn’t you intervene when Miss Lin was assaulting others just now?”

Instead of releasing her, Zheng Yu leaned closer: “In this official’s eyes, I only saw Miss Shen attempting to injure someone with a weapon.”

“Lord Zheng!” Lin Yueyao cried as if seeing a savior, tears streaming down like pear blossoms. “Shen Fangru assaulted me in public, you must uphold justice for me!”

Fangru’s heart sank. The butterfly effect had begun – her altered actions were triggering entirely new variables. She tried to pull her hand back but found Zheng Yu’s grip astonishingly strong.

Su Wanqing attempted to intervene but was blocked by Zhao Minglan and his companions.

From the corner of her eye, Fangru saw Lin Yueyao smugly adjusting her hair, fueling her anger: “Lord Zheng is blind in both eyes and heart, no wonder you’ve remained a sixth-rank Langzhong in the Ministry of Justice for five years!”

Zheng Yu’s expression darkened abruptly, his grip tightening sharply: “Miss Shen’s sharp tongue would be best dealt with by the iron pincers in the imperial prison!”

“What impressive authority from Langzhong Zheng.”

A lazy, deep voice came from the shadows of the corridor, startling Zheng Yu rigid.

Everyone turned to see a tall figure that had appeared unnoticed by the moon gate.

The hidden patterns on his black brocade robe shimmered faintly under the palace lanterns. A golden glint flashed through his jade-crowned black hair – the dragon-patterned golden hairpin reserved exclusively for the emperor.

Zhou Ling twirled a celadon wine cup in his fingers, looking mockingly at Zheng Yu’s hand restraining Fangru.

The noblewomen in the garden collectively held their breath.

The rustle of Lin Yueyao’s rose-colored silk skirt brushed the ground as she knelt. Zhao Minglan pulled Su Wanqing’s sleeve down as they both prostrated.

Fangru felt the restraint on her wrist loosen as Zheng Yu hastily withdrew his hand and bowed.

“Your humble official…”

“I remember.” Zhou Ling leisurely strolled to Zheng Yu, the tip of his boot deliberately grinding over the other’s prostrate fingers. “The Ministry of Justice has been investigating the Jiangnan grain transport case recently? Minister Zheng certainly has leisure to be here…” His gaze swept over Fangru’s reddened wrist. “…educating young ladies.”

Zheng Yu pressed his forehead to the ground, not daring to make a sound, his crushed fingers trembling slightly.

Zhou Ling suddenly bent down and tore the silver fish pouch from Zheng Yu’s waist. “The pearl on this fish pouch has been tarnished.” He casually tossed it, and the pouch symbolizing official status plopped into the lotus pond. “Go to the Ministry of Personnel tomorrow and plead guilty.”

Fangru watched Zhou Ling’s fluid movements, a faint smile unconsciously curling at the corner of her lips.

“All rise.” Zhou Ling waved his hand carelessly, though his gaze subtly swept over Fangru’s reddened wrist. “I happened to pass by and witnessed quite a show.”

Just as Lin Yueyao was about to rise and offer tea, she saw the emperor suddenly tap Fangru’s shoulder with his folding fan. “This girl…” The fan paused on her crumpled clothing. “…come with me to the Zichen Hall to change your clothes.”

The noblewomen in the garden instantly held their breath, their beautiful eyes fixed on the folding fan pressed against Fangru’s chin.

Lin Yueyao twisted her silk handkerchief until it nearly tore, while Zhao Minglan bit her lip so hard her lipstick showed teeth marks. How could this criminal’s fiancée receive imperial favor?

Fangru remained oblivious to the envious stares around her.

The cool touch of the folding fan vaguely reminded her of the scene in the imperial study three days ago. That was during her second life, when she had become the state preceptor through her foresight and could freely enter the imperial study.

Back then, he had also lifted her chin with his folding fan, trapping her between the desk and his chest…

Fangru’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she had no time for embarrassment, as this was precisely the private opportunity she had been waiting for.

Her previous two rebirth experiences told her she must persuade Zhou Ling to spare Gu Zhou’s life tonight.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She proactively stepped forward half a pace, a smile on her face.

With Lin Yueyao’s jealous gaze piercing her back, Fangru obediently followed the figure in black robes.

Inside the Glazed Flower Hall, moonlight streamed through the colorful glazed window panes, casting mottled shadows on the green jade floor.

Just as Fangru stepped into this hazy glow, a soft click sounded behind her—the sound of the door bolt sliding into place was particularly clear in the silent hall.

“Your Majesty, regarding Gu…”

“Kneel.” Zhou Ling’s voice carried an irresistible authority as his black dragon-embroidered robe swept past her, bringing with it a chill whiff of ambergris.

His slender fingers rested casually on the green jade paperweight on the table, tapping rhythmically on the jade surface.

Fangru pressed her lips together and slowly knelt on the smooth green jade floor.

“The evidence against Gu Zhou is conclusive.” Zhou Ling suddenly leaned down, his oppressive aura enveloping her. “Is Miss Shen asking me to bend the law for personal gain?” His fingertips lifted a strand of hair fallen by her neck, twirling it suggestively between his fingers.

Fangru clenched her sleeves. Memories from her previous life were etched sharply in her mind—if not for Lin Yueyao’s betrayal, she would have long escaped far away with Gu Zhou.

Now reborn again, she still believed this foresight could help her achieve her wish.

“I have the power of foresight!” Fangru lifted her head, meeting Zhou Ling’s unfathomable eyes. She forced composure as she said, “For example, at this moment, Cheng Jinse, daughter of the Minister of Works, is with Du Heng, son of the Vice Minister of Rites, by the hibiscus pond…”

Before the words faded, a distinct “splash” echoed from the distance, followed by a woman’s panicked scream.

Through the glazed window, flickering torchlights could be seen rapidly converging by the pond.

Yet Zhou Ling didn’t even lift an eyelid. Instead, maintaining his leaning posture, his lips nearly brushed her earlobe as he spoke. “Attendants,” he tapped the paperweight idly, warm breath ghosting over her sensitive ear, “Miss Cheng has caught a chill from her accidental fall. Send her to Ciyun Convent to recuperate.” A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, laced with danger. “As for Young Master Du… since he’s so fond of water, transfer him to the Lingnan Naval Command.”

Fangru shuddered—this reaction was utterly different from their previous life.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Zhou Ling suddenly dropped to one knee, meeting her at eye level.

“Does Your Majesty not wonder how this common girl came to know…” Her voice trembled faintly despite herself.

“Shh.” Zhou Ling pressed his thumb against her lips, slowly tracing their rosy curve.

His gaze darkened, voice turning husky. “What I wonder more…” His other hand abruptly cupped the nape of her neck, forcing her head back, “…is since Miss Shen can foresee the future…”

His nose nearly touched hers, their breaths mingling with dangerous allure. “Why not guess which noble lady I’ll choose as consort tonight?”

His fingertips trailed down her slender neck, drawing teasing circles over her collarbone. “Or…” His lips grazed her burning ear, “…who will share my bed tonight?”