[GL] I'm Just A Side Character... So Why Is The Heroine Chasing Me?!-Chapter 20: Misunderstanding

"It’s... it’s not what it looks like!"

Lan Yue’s voice cracked as she lay pinned against the silk mattress. The words barely left her mouth before the room fell into a suffocating silence.

The spiritual lanterns flickered overhead, their soft golden glow casting long shadows across the chamber. The scent of burnt incense hung heavy in the air, too heavy, too sweet. Something was deeply wrong.

In the doorway, a crowd had gathered.

General Zhao’s face had turned a terrifying shade of purple, veins bulging along his neck. His cultivation base trembled with barely suppressed rage, sending waves of pressure through the room that made the weaker servants collapse to their knees. This was the same man who had banished his own daughter for ten years without a second thought, and now the daughter he had just summoned back was caught in this.

"Father, restrain your qi!" Zhao Ruoqing gasped, clutching her chest. She stood beside him, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide in shock she did not need to fake.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Zhao Ruoqing’s mind raced. She had paid the maid. She had arranged the timing. She had spent months planning this moment, the moment her pathetic half-sister would finally be destroyed beyond salvation. Zhao Lingxi should have been found with that disgusting pig Shen Yiming, drugged and ruined. Not this.

How did that worthless girl escape the trap?

Even Qin Wen’s calm mask cracked. His jade fan froze mid-air, brows lifting as he stared at Zhao Lingxi in disbelief.

He had agreed to support Zhao Ruoqing’s scheme because it aligned with his interests. The Qin family’s eldest son, him, had once been engaged to Zhao Lingxi. That engagement had been annulled after her banishment, but her sudden return to the capital threatened to stir old rumors. Better to bury her completely.

But the girl pinning down a servant with wild, unfocused eyes was not the meek, broken creature he had expected. His spiritual sense swept across the room, analyzing every detail.

Interesting. Her meridians are in complete chaos, yet she still managed to subdue someone. What exactly happened in that remote countryside?

"You vile creature!" General Zhao roared, his hand flying to his sword. The blade hummed with spiritual energy, eager to taste blood. "What is this disgrace? Do you want to drag the Zhao household into the gutter? Our ancestors cultivated for ten generations to build our name!"

"Father, please calm yourself!" Zhao Ruoqing cried, tears glistening in her eyes, the same tears she had perfected since childhood. "Perhaps Sister was confused. Perhaps those ten years in the countryside damaged her mind."

Before he could move, a cold voice cut through the chaos.

"Get off her."

Mo Tian, the Crown Prince, stepped forward.

His dark robes swept the floor like shadows given form, and his presence was heavy with the authority of someone who had reached the peak of Foundation Establishment before the age of twenty. The weight of his cultivation base pressed down on everyone present, forcing even General Zhao to take a step back.

He grabbed Zhao Lingxi by the shoulder and pulled her away from Lan Yue in one swift motion. His grip was firm but careful. The moment his fingers touched her, he could feel the turbulent qi raging through her damaged meridians.

Heat-Inducing Poison, he recognized immediately. And something else. Something meant to shatter her spiritual foundation entirely.

Zhao Lingxi struggled like a wild beast, her face flushed, eyes unfocused and burning with strange heat. Her movements were erratic, desperate, nothing like the cold, composed girl who had quietly endured a decade of exile.

"Let go!" she hissed, her nails raking across his arm. "It burns, everything burns."

"Hold still." Mo Tian pressed his palm against her back, channeling pure spiritual energy into her chaotic meridians. The cooling sensation spread through her body like spring water quenching a forest fire.

Lan Yue scrambled backward, clutching her torn collar, heart pounding.

What the hell just happened?

One moment she had been serving tea to Zhao Lingxi, the next the world had spun into chaos. A man had dragged her mistress into this room and locked the door with a sealing talisman. Then the incense had filled the air, and Zhao Lingxi’s eyes had gone wild, unfocused, hungry.

And then—

Lan Yue shuddered. She didn’t want to think about it.

"Thank you, thank you," she whispered, her throat raw. "I tried to stop her, but she was too strong. The poison made her lose control."

Zhao Ruoqing raised her handkerchief, dabbing at nonexistent tears. Her voice trembled with perfectly practiced concern. "Father, how could Sister do something like this? In the Imperial Palace, no less. With a servant? Has she lost all shame? What will the cultivation sects think of our family?"

Qin Wen added lightly, his fan resuming its lazy motion, "Perhaps five years in the countryside has changed her more than we realized. Isolation from proper spiritual guidance can damage the mind. This is certainly unexpected."

His eyes, however, were cold and calculating.

"Enough."

The single word silenced everyone.

At the entrance stood Empress Dowager Wei, leaning on her dragon-headed cane. The cane itself was a legendary artifact, forged from the spine of a flood dragon and capable of suppressing cultivators two realms above her own. Though aged, her presence was suffocating. She had reached Nascent Soul decades ago, and every person in the room felt like an ant beneath her gaze.

The spiritual lanterns dimmed as she entered, as if even the flames dared not outshine her.

"To cause such chaos during my longevity banquet," she said coldly. "General Zhao, is this how you raised your daughter? Is this the discipline of a military household?"

General Zhao dropped to his knees, forehead hitting the cold jade floor with a heavy thud. "This subject deserves death. This unfilial daughter has shamed our ancestors. I will personally cripple her cultivation and send her to the Temple of Atonement."

Cripple her cultivation? Lan Yue’s heart lurched. He’s ready to destroy his own daughter without even asking what happened.

She thought of the novel she had read. Zhao Lingxi’s father had never protected her, not when she was framed for murder at ten years old, not when she was banished to the countryside, and certainly not now.

"She has not shamed anyone yet," Mo Tian said darkly.

All eyes turned to the Crown Prince. He had not knelt. He alone had the status to remain standing before the Empress Dowager.

He pressed two fingers to Zhao Lingxi’s wrist, his spiritual sense diving deep into her meridian system. What he found made his jaw tighten.

"Look at her," he commanded. "Her qi is in complete chaos. Her pupils are dilated. She doesn’t even recognize where she is. This is not lust, this is poison."

He kicked a fallen incense burner forward. It clattered across the floor, scattering ash and revealing a hidden compartment at its base.

"Heat-Inducing Powder mixed with Spirit-Suppressing Water," he announced. "A combination specifically designed to destroy the victim’s spiritual foundation while making them lose all rational control. This was not meant to merely ruin her reputation."

His dark eyes swept across the gathered crowd.

"It was meant to destroy her completely. Forever."

A collective gasp rippled through the witnesses. Spirit-Suppressing Water was a banned substance, its production forbidden by imperial decree. To possess it was to court death.

A groan came from the corner.

Shen Yiming stirred, clutching his broken ribs. His robes were torn, his face swollen and bloody. Whatever had happened in that room before the doors burst open, he had clearly lost the fight.

"Your Majesty!" he cried, crawling forward on his knees. "She invited me. She sent a servant with a message. And when I arrived, she attacked me like a demon. Look at me, I am the victim here!"

"Lies!" Lan Yue shouted, finding her voice. "He dragged her inside. I saw everything!"

A servant’s word against a noble’s? Shen Yiming sneered. Who would believe—

"Silence," the Empress Dowager said.

Her cane struck the floor once. The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder. Shen Yiming’s mouth snapped shut, his vocal cords temporarily frozen by the artifact’s power.

She turned to the palace guards. "Bring the maid who served tea in this wing. Immediately."

Within moments, a trembling palace maid was dragged forward. She was young, barely sixteen, and her face was pale as paper. The moment she saw Mo Tian’s cold gaze, she collapsed completely, kowtowing until her forehead bled.

"I didn’t mean to. Please spare me!" she wailed. "Young Master Shen paid me fifty spirit stones. He said he just wanted the young miss to be compliant. He said no one would get hurt. I didn’t know the incense was poison. I swear on my cultivation."

The truth fell like ice.

Zhao Ruoqing’s hands clenched inside her sleeves, nails digging into her palms. That fool. That absolute fool. He was supposed to be discreet.

Qin Wen’s eyes darkened slightly. His fan snapped shut with a decisive click. Whatever connection he had to this scheme, he was already distancing himself. The Qin family did not associate with failure.

The Empress Dowager spoke without mercy. "Drag the maid out. Caning to death. Let this be a lesson. Those who conspire against noble daughters in my palace will receive no mercy."

The maid’s screams echoed down the corridor as she was hauled away.

"As for Shen Yiming," the Empress Dowager continued, her ancient eyes settling on his kneeling father. "Your family’s contributions save his worthless life today. He is stripped of all ranks, given fifty lashes with the spiritual cane, and permanently banned from the Imperial Palace. Should he set foot here again, I will personally scatter his soul."

Minister Shen kowtowed deeply, not daring to protest.

Night had fallen completely by the time Zhao Lingxi was escorted from the palace.

She was wrapped in Mo Tian’s cloak, black silk embroidered with subtle silver clouds, and carried into the waiting carriage. The Crown Prince had insisted personally, and no one dared argue.

General Zhao ordered Lan Yue punished for failing to protect her mistress’s dignity, twenty strokes of the rod, to be delivered upon their return to the manor.

The carriage rolled through the empty streets, its wheels creaking against stone. The silence inside was heavy enough to suffocate.

Zhao Lingxi lay still against the cushions, eyes closed, her breathing finally steady. The Crown Prince’s spiritual energy had purged most of the poison, though her meridians still ached.

Lan Yue hugged her knees in the corner, her mind spinning.

This wasn’t in the novel.

In the original story, Lan Yue had been a minor character, a loyal servant who eventually betrayed her mistress out of jealousy and paid for it with her life. But nothing like this had ever happened. There had been no palace banquet, no drugging, no Crown Prince intervention.

Did something change because I’m here? Or was this always going to happen and the novel just didn’t show it?

After a long moment, she whispered, "Mistress, are you okay? The poison—"

"Don’t touch me."

Lan Yue froze.

Zhao Lingxi’s eyes opened, clear, cold, terrifyingly sharp. There was no confusion left. No vulnerability. Only the calculating gaze of a predator who had finished playing prey.

She sat up slowly, adjusting her robes with elegant precision, as if the entire nightmare had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"The show is over," she said softly. "Shen Yiming was never the mastermind. He was only a pawn, too stupid and too arrogant to realize he was being used."

Her lips curved into a faint, chilling smile.

"But tonight, I learned something valuable. I learned who the real players are. Who whispered in his ear. Who arranged the timing. Who wanted me destroyed."

Her gaze slid slowly to Lan Yue, and the servant girl felt a chill run down her spine.

"And you," Zhao Lingxi murmured, "are far more interesting than a servant should be. Your movements, your reactions, your eyes when you looked at the Empress Dowager..."

She leaned forward slightly.

"Tell me, Lan Yue. Who are you really?"