The lights of Yangxin Hall burned well past the third watch of the night.
The Emperor had not retired.
But tonight, the person summoned was not a minister—
It was the Imperial Kitchen.
When Qing Tian stood beneath the corridor outside the hall, the wind was strong and bitterly cold.
Spring nights were not supposed to feel like this.
Yet she felt a familiar chill creeping up her spine.
The sensation of being hunted.
"Director Qing."
"The Emperor will see you now."
Gao Dequan's voice was slightly lower than usual.
His gaze lingered on her face for just a moment longer before he stepped aside.
The hall was quiet.
On the desk sat only one bowl of soup.
Clear.
Delicate.
It was the Lotus Lily Calming Soup she herself had designed.
The Emperor had not touched it.
"Try it."
The words were light.
But there was no room for refusal.
Qing Tian did not hesitate.
She lifted the bowl.
The aroma was correct.
The color was correct.
Even the temperature—
Exactly the way she had specified.
She took one sip.
Before the second sip could reach her lips—
Her throat tightened suddenly.
Not burning.
Not stabbing pain.
But a strange, creeping suffocation.
As if something invisible had begun to close around her airway.
She stopped immediately.
The bowl returned quietly to the table.
Then she bowed.
"Your Majesty."
"There is something wrong with this soup."
The Emperor's eyes turned cold in an instant.
"What's wrong with it?"
Qing Tian did not answer immediately.
She extended her hand.
The tips of her fingers were already turning slightly bluish.
Her voice remained steady.
"This is not a fast-acting poison."
"It's slow."
"The compound has been processed and hidden between the lotus and licorice."
"If consumed daily—"
She lifted her gaze and met the Emperor's eyes directly.
"In three months, the victim will die as if from a relapse of old illness."
The air in the hall froze.
"Who handled this soup?" the Emperor asked.
"Every stage of preparation was inspected," Qing Tian replied.
"Except for the final step."
She paused.
"The Offering Office's purification procedure."
Those four words dropped like ice into deep water.
The Emperor slowly stood.
"The Offering Office…"
"The people responsible for purifying food before the Buddha…"
"…serve under the Empress Dowager."
His voice was quiet.
But the anger beneath it was unmistakable.
"It seems they've already begun to—"
He stopped.
He didn't finish the sentence.
But Qing Tian understood.
What he meant was simple.
They had crossed a line.
Suddenly—
Her vision darkened.
This wasn't poison taking effect.
She understood this type of compound far too well.
Back in her previous life, she had studied pharmacology.
This was a low-dose neural inhibitor blend.
She forced herself to remain standing.
"Your Majesty."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"This wasn't meant for you."
"It was meant for me."
"Because I've already uncovered the accounts outside the ledger."
"They fear I'll keep digging."
"They fear I won't stop."
"If I hadn't noticed the abnormal taste tonight—"
She looked at him calmly.
"If Your Majesty had drunk it, the blame would fall on me."
"After all, the recipe was my design."
"And if I drank it instead…"
"In three months, I would die quietly."
"A perfect outcome for them."
The Emperor was silent for a long time.
So long that the candle flames outside the hall sank lower.
Finally—
"Qing Tian."
It was the first time he had spoken her name so plainly.
"Are you afraid?"
She looked up.
"You often ask me that, Your Majesty."
"And my answer remains the same."
"I am afraid."
"But I will not retreat."
The Emperor smiled.
A faint smile.
"Good."
"Then from tonight onward…"
"You will no longer be merely the Director of the Imperial Kitchen."
He turned.
"Gao Dequan."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Deliver a secret decree."
"Starting immediately—"
"The Offering Office."
"The Judicial Office."
"And the Internal Affairs accounting bureau."
"I want them all replaced."
At that moment,
Qing Tian understood something clearly.
She had not merely been permitted to investigate.
She had been chosen.
Chosen to carry out a reckoning.
And the poison in tonight's soup—
Had failed to kill her.
Which meant the enemies she would face next
Would be far more dangerous.
Because she knew very well—
This bowl of poisoned soup
Was merely the gentlest opening move
Of the war inside the palace.