"Consort Wen," Imperial Consort Sun’s voice cut across the quieted hall, her golden nail guards tapping against her chalice like the slow dripping of ice water. "The imperial jade zither has been prepared. We are all waiting to witness the musical refined grace of the Supreme General’s chosen spouse."
Wen Yu offered a soft, delicate nod, stepping past the bowed palace attendants and taking his place behind the ancient, polished instrument on the central stage.
[Alright, time to turn this high-stakes aristocratic roast into a sold-out concert,] Wen Yu thought, his internal voice broadcasting with sudden, hyper-focused adrenaline directly into Xie Yan’s mind. [They think I’m just a useless background maid who can only mop floors and hold silver trays. Little do they know, I spent three grueling years of college taking traditional instrument electives to relieve stress from managing impossible author deadlines!]
He lowered his hands, letting his long, slender fingers rest gently over the shimmering silk strings. With a sudden, sharp flick of his right wrist, he struck the bass chord of Ambush from Ten Sides.
A heavy, thunderous note vibrated through the banqueting hall, so sharp and resonant that several court ladies gasped, dropping their silk fans.
Wen Yu’s fingers transformed into a blur of pure precision. The music erupted not into a sweet, docile maid’s ballad, but into a sweeping, high-tempo battle hymn. The rapid, cascading plucks simulated the galloping of warhorses, the clash of cold iron, and the chaotic rumble of a thousand soldiers marching through narrow mountain passes. The sheer power of the melody swept over the aristocratic audience like a storm, plunging the entire chamber into breath-taking awe.
Marquis Vane sat frozen at his rosewood table, his jaw dropping by an inch as he stared at the stage in absolute disbelief. Lord Gu nearly tipped over his wine cup, while the Imperial Consort’s tight, patronizing smile vanished entirely, replaced by a look of stunned humiliation.
[Look at their faces!] Wen Yu cheered internally, his fingers flying across the zither in a blistering crescendo that made the silk strings hum with lethal intensity. [That’s right, keep staring! You wanted a performance, and I am delivering a five-star masterpiece! Your aristocratic arrogance is getting crushed by a modern editor’s freelance stress-relief hobby!]
Sitting near the front dais, Xie Yan rested his chin against his hand, hiding a breathtaking, wicked smirk behind his heavy bronze sleeve. The general’s heart pounded against his ribs, filled with an overwhelming, intoxicating surge of pride as his consort utterly dominated the court.
As the final, dramatic chord echoed through the high-vaulted ceilings and faded into silence, the entire banqueting hall remained completely speechless.
High on the central throne dais, the Emperor himself leaned forward, his heavy golden robes rustling as he let out a low, booming laugh that broke the silence. He raised his hand, summoning a head eunuch, who hurried down the marble steps to deliver a royal decree directly to Xie Yan’s table.
"The Emperor is deeply impressed by Consort Wen’s staggering talent," the eunuch announced in a high, clear tone, bowing low. "His Imperial Majesty requests the Supreme General’s presence at the head table to discuss the northern military border allocations."
Xie Yan rose smoothly from his cushion, sweeping his midnight-blue robes back. He turned his head down toward Wen Yu, who had just stepped off the performance stage with a demure, breathy sigh.
"The Imperial Court is suffocating tonight, and the Emperor’s talk of border budgets will take time," Xie Yan murmured in a low, gentle voice, leaning down until his dark eyes locked onto Wen Yu’s flushed face. "If you find this hall tedious, my love, you may go out to the palace gardens and take the night air."
"I... I would not wish to be improper, General," Wen Yu stammered out loud, pitching his voice into his fragile, submissive register while flutter-blinking his eyelashes.
[Yes! Permission to escape!] Wen Yu screamed inside his head with unhinged joy. [Get me out of this golden cage before someone asks for an encore!]
"Go," Xie Yan repeated softly, his thumb brushing over Wen Yu’s wrist with a lingering squeeze. "I will join you the moment I am free."
Wen Yu bowed low, taking a slow, dignified step backward before slipping through the heavy, carved wooden doors leading out toward the quiet side terrace.
The moment the heavy doors clicked shut behind him, the suffocating heat of the banquet hall vanished, replaced by the crisp, cool autumn night wind smelling faintly of night-blooming jasmine and damp earth.
"If I stayed in that hall for another five minutes, I was going to faint from sheer spiritual exhaustion," Wen Yu muttered softly into the darkness, taking a massive, un-courtly gulp of fresh air as he slumped his shoulders.
[My lungs were about five seconds away from filing a formal labor complaint!] Wen Yu added in his unhinged internal stream, leaning his back against the cool marble balustrade overlooking the moonlit gardens. [Every noble in there smells like they bathed in liquid ambergris, and my spine is practically fused together from holding that fragile posture!]
An hour later, the stone doors creaked open again.
Xie Yan stepped out onto the balcony, closing the heavy doors behind him to block out the distant orchestral music and gossiping whispers. He had excused himself from the head table early, unable to leave his spouse alone in the dark for long.
"Are you truly unharmed after all that court drama?" Xie Yan asked, his low, rumbling voice stripped of its military bark and sharp edge as he approached. "That page’s clumsiness was intentional, and playing such a grand piece must have taken a toll."
"This humble one is completely fine, General," Wen Yu responded instantly out loud, switching back into his breathy, timid tone as he bowed his head. "I am merely grateful I did not bring dishonor upon your noble house."
Xie Yan let out a low, heavy sigh, reaching out to cup the side of Wen Yu’s jaw gently, forcing the younger man to raise his face into the moonlight.
"Wen Yu," Xie Yan whispered, his thumb tracing a warm line across his cheekbone. "There are no courtiers out here. No imperial consorts, no scheming marquises. Speak to me with your real voice."
Wen Yu froze, his pulse thumping rapidly against Xie Yan’s palm as the general’s scent—crisp cedarwood and cold mountain pine—wrapped around him.
He let out a long, genuine sigh, dropping the breathy, timid pitch entirely and letting his natural, tired tone take over. "I’m just exhausted, Xie Yan. High society is an absolute nightmare. Everyone speaks in five different layers of passive-aggressive metaphors, and if I have to smile sweetly at one more person who wants to sabotage me, my face is going to lock up permanently."
Xie Yan’s lips curved into a slow, breathtaking smirk, his dark eyes shining with intense warmth. "You handled them better than any veteran commander I have ever seen."
"I just used basic survival instincts," Wen Yu grumbled quietly, leaning his shoulder just a tiny fraction into Xie Yan’s solid chest for support. "My grandma used to sat, if you let someone walk all over your work, they’d cut your budget by morning."
Xie Yan pulled his heavy, fur-lined black cloak off his shoulders, draping it over Wen Yu’s shivering frame and fastening the silver clasp at his neck.
"Your grandma sounds remarkably astute, Consort Wen," Xie Yan murmured, his voice brushing against the shell of Wen Yu’s ear. "But you are in my household now. You do not need to fight every battle alone."
Wen Yu clutched the heavy fur mantle, his face flushing crimson in the dark.
[Okay, fine, he’s actually really considerate,] Wen Yu admitted silently, his internal monologue softening into a rare, warm broadcast. [The mantle is warm, his scent is absurdly comforting, and he didn’t even yell at me for breaking character. If this were a main-couple romance scene in a webnovel, the comments would be screaming ’GREEN FLAG ALPHA’ right now.]
Xie Yan let out a low, rich laugh that echoed softly on the quiet balcony, his hand resting over Wen Yu’s on the railing. "Let us stay out here a little longer then, my sharp little consort."