Quan Minghe curled the corner of his lips and let out a soft scoff.
“You’ve wasted quite a bit of my time today. Tell me, how will you make up for it?”
Shen Yuling lowered her head, her plump, rosy nails gliding slowly over the back of Quan Minghe’s hand.
It seemed careless, yet carried a hint of provocation.
A moment later, her crimson lips parted.
Her tone was soft and delicate: “I’ll keep you company all night tonight. How about that?”
Originally, Quan Minghe had only felt a slight tingling in his hand from her touch, but now her voice seemed to coil straight into his heart.
His gaze darkened as he stared at her for a moment.
Finally, he replied, “Then paint it.”
Hearing this, Shen Yuling was not satisfied; instead, she pressed her advantage.
“Your Majesty, I have a request too.”
She lifted her beautiful eyes to look at Quan Minghe, a hint of cunning in her gaze.
Quan Minghe, however, remained composed, quietly waiting for her to state her request.
Shen Yuling spun lightly in front of him.
“I’ve dressed like this today, and Your Majesty hasn’t praised me yet.”
Shen Yuling stopped and gazed at Quan Minghe with sparkling eyes.
Only then did Quan Minghe take a closer look at her. Tonight’s unusual attire had indeed caught his eye.
It was truly worthy of praise.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment.
“Ice-like skin, snow-moistened; rosy cheeks, flowers in bloom.”
Shen Yuling smiled sweetly and asked, “And?”
“Cherry lips hold a faint smile; jade-like beauty reflects the morning glow.”
A flicker of triumph flashed in Shen Yuling’s eyes.
“Then Your Majesty must paint my ice-like skin, rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and jade-like beauty later!”
Her words carried a hint of proud coquettishness.
“You certainly know how to set traps for me.”
“Fine, I’ll indulge you in your playfulness today.”
Then he gave her a meaningful look.
“Don’t disappoint me, Miss Shen.”
Quan Minghe rose from the couch and walked toward the main hall of Yaohua Palace.
Although Li Ming was inwardly shocked by the Emperor’s unusual treatment of Consort Shen, he showed no sign of it on his face. With swift efficiency, he arranged everything.
He ordered the painting tools to be set up in the main hall and promptly sent for the court musicians, ensuring everything was perfectly arranged.
Before long, everything was ready.
Shen Yuling stood in the center of the main hall.
Quan Minghe sat facing her, with the painting tools neatly arranged on the table that had been brought over.
Meanwhile, the musicians behind the screen had tuned their instruments, awaiting only the start of the music.
Quan Minghe looked up and asked, “What will you dance?”
Shen Yuling replied crisply, “The Drunken Imperial Consort.”
Quan Minghe frowned. “What is an Imperial Consort?”
Oh, she had misspoken. The Qian Dynasty did not have such a rank.
“No, it’s the Drunken Meiren.”
Quan Minghe nodded. He had never heard of this dance before. If it was something new, it piqued his interest.
In an instant, melodious music filled the hall, flowing like a gentle stream.
Shen Yuling took graceful, swaying steps toward Lan Ying and took the wine jug and cup from her hands.
Lan Ying, facing Consort Shen, felt as if every step she took landed on her own heart.
So beautiful, so ethereal, and so enchanting.
Shen Yuling tilted the wine jug slightly, letting the wine flow steadily into the cup.
Once the cup was full, she held it steadily and began to dance to the music.
Spinning and swaying, her movements as light as a swallow’s, not a single drop of wine spilled from the cup—a testament to her profound skill in dance.
As she twirled continuously, her gauzy garments fluttered in a breathtaking dance.
She drained the cup of wine, her gaze tinged with melancholy and solitude.
Quan Minghe sat there, as if truly drawn into the scene of a beauty drowning her sorrows in wine.
It was impossible to tell whether it was the dance that was too beautiful or the sorrowful beauty herself that was more captivating.
Shen Yuling refilled her wine cup once more.
At times, she raised the cup high above her head, tilting her head back to gaze intently.
At other times, she brought the cup close to her chest, gently swaying it.
Finally, turning her back to Quan Minghe, she arched backward, lifting her head, her garments slipping to reveal a snow-white, fragrant shoulder.
Quan Minghe’s breath caught instantly, a storm of darkness swirling in his eyes.
As the music reached its climax, Shen Yuling’s gaze grew hazy, drifting distantly toward Quan Minghe.
Step by step, moving to the rhythm, she tiptoed toward him.
The small white jade bell tied to the end of her hair chimed in harmony with the music.
Chime after chime, it struck Quan Minghe’s heart.
Having acted in so many idol dramas, Shen Yuling’s every smile and frown was a meticulously crafted beauty.
The ethereal fairy, softened by the wine’s warmth, settled into the emperor’s lap, her wine cup naturally resting against his thin lips.
And from the moment she began to dance, Quan Minghe’s gaze had not strayed for even an instant.
So much so that the scroll prepared for painting on the table remained untouched to this moment.
He paid it no mind. Seeing the wine cup pressed to his lips, he parted them slightly.
Guided by Shen Yuling’s hand, he drank the wine in one gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing gently.
With that, the dance came to an end.
Shen Yuling lifted her eyes to Quan Minghe.
“Your Majesty, are you satisfied?”
Quan Minghe responded in a low voice, “Mm.”
His throat, moistened by the wine, produced a deep, magnetic tone.
Hearing the satisfactory answer, Shen Yuling reverted to her usual demeanor.
Her jade-like finger pointed to the still-blank scroll on the table.
She pouted and said, “But I am not satisfied.”
After a pause, she continued, “How could Your Majesty, with your golden words, deceive me?”
Quan Minghe, already tempted by the beauty, had been thinking of carrying the fairy to the bed.
Hearing her words, he glanced at the blank scroll, then looked down at the woman puffing her cheeks in anger.
He sighed softly.
“Sit beside me. I will paint now.”
Shen Yuling slipped from his lap and obediently took a seat to his left.
She settled in comfortably, ready to watch the emperor paint a portrait of the beauty.
Quan Minghe recalled every expression and posture from her dance just moments before.
After careful consideration, he chose the moment he loved most.
He began to wield his brush with vigor.
It was the image of the beauty looking down at the wine in her cup, her eyes filled with endless thoughts and tender emotions.
It was the softness, allure, and pity that made Quan Minghe want to hold her in his arms.
In the Qian Dynasty, painting had always emphasized the beauty of artistic conception.
Quan Minghe, already a master of the craft, lightly sketched with his brush. With just a few strokes, the image of a beauty both ethereal and alluring vividly emerged on the paper.
Her brows, eyes, posture, and spirit were all precisely captured by Quan Minghe’s ink.
Once the painting was complete,
Quan Minghe asked, “Are you satisfied?”
“I love it. Your Majesty’s skill is exceptional—a single brushstroke captures divine grace, the entire scroll brimming with charm.”
“Excellent.”
Shen Yuling walked around the table displaying the scroll and stood to Quan Minghe’s right.
Picking up the black lacquer brush with gilded double-dragon patterns and mixed bristles, she looked up at Quan Minghe.
She asked, “Your Majesty, may I inscribe it?”
Quan Minghe gazed at her intently for a moment.
Then he nodded.
Never before had he allowed anyone else to inscribe his paintings.
It was just that Shen Yuling’s dance earlier had given him a pleasant surprise, so now he couldn’t help but feel some anticipation for what she was about to inscribe.
Shen Yuling held a brush, dipped it in ink, and then began writing on the blank space to the right of the painting.
Her calligraphy was exceptionally beautiful, with smooth strokes and elegant turns, exuding a lively spirit.
After finishing, she raised her eyebrows slightly.
“How is it?”
Quan Minghe’s gaze fell upon the inscription.
The first two lines were typical for such an inscription. Though he marveled at the young woman’s literary talent, given her background from the Lingxi Ye family, it was hardly surprising.
“Imperial ink lightly applied paints a fair face,
Graceful and elegant as if descending from the heavens.
Lines and strokes convey boundless emotion,
A single sheet of art surpasses all treasures.”
But the final line…
Quan Minghe softly recited it: “May this beauty that could topple cities, forever reside in the emperor’s heart.”
Most women in the inner palace harbored such hopes, wishing to retain the emperor’s favor with their beauty and talent for as long as possible.
Quan Minghe remembered every wish Shen Yuling had made outside the Temple of Sacred Sound.
They were all a young girl’s pure and fervent longings for love.
Yet once she entered the palace, all he could offer her was perhaps just his favor—and even he wasn’t sure how long that favor would last.
Quan Minghe fell silent for a moment.
He lifted Shen Yuling into his arms and whispered, “You’re in the emperor’s embrace now, so why worry about the future?”
Shen Yuling wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling affectionately against him.
Lowering her gaze, she thought to herself with a faint sneer: If you don’t want it now, don’t come begging for it later.
Quan Minghe carried her toward the bedchamber.
Only the unfinished painting remained in the hall, quietly emanating the scent of ink under the candlelight.