A Concubine Can Never Compare to a Consort
By the time Chen Luxian managed to sneak past the guards and return to the primary consort’s quarters, he had lost half his night’s rest. The security of Qi Wang Manor was worlds apart from that of the Chen family estate, as different as heaven and earth.
It was nearly dawn by the time Luxian finally got to bed. And yet, come morning, he had to rise, dress in formal attire, and prepare to receive greetings as the new master of the household. Today, he wore an elegant black robe embroidered with silver clouds, giving him an air of grandeur and dignity. On his head was a silver coronet adorned with phoenix motifs, smaller and lighter than the one he’d worn during the wedding ceremony. The contrast of the dark attire against his fair, flawless complexion, paired with his otherworldly beauty, made him look every bit the noble consort.
Unfortunately, there was no one around to appreciate it. Despite having left the Chen estate, Luxian had no intention of revealing his face or his secrets until he was certain that Qi Wang was a "golden thigh" and not a "rotten log." He might even use this secrecy to his advantage later. Besides, who would he show his face to, anyway? Even his masked husband hadn’t bothered to pay him any attention.
According to information from his four friends, Qi Wang supposedly had eight concubines living in his manor.
However, it would be inaccurate to call them true concubines, as Zhao Qirong had never formally acknowledged any of them. These individuals, sent by others without his consent, were labeled as concubines merely out of courtesy, to appease the influential figures who placed them in the manor as spies.
From the information Luxian had gathered through his own people, Prince Zhao Qirong had spent the entire wedding night in his chambers. However, in the morning, an exquisite breakfast had been served to him, despite his supposed bedridden state.
Luxian was still uncertain about his suspicions—was Zhao Qirong truly the same person as Rongqi? Was he genuinely ill, or merely pretending? If he was truly unwell, it was almost pitiable for him to have been forced to attend a wedding he clearly had no interest in.
Sigh... I’ll find a chance to visit you, Qi Wang.
Any lingering annoyance Luxian felt about being abandoned on his wedding night had completely faded by the next morning.
"Your Highness, the eight concubines are here," a servant announced from outside the door.
Luxian nodded, signaling for the concubines to enter. He moved to sit on an intricately carved phoenix throne, clasping his hands and adopting the composed posture he had been taught.
"This concubine greets Primary Consort," the concubines said in unison, bowing deeply.
"There’s no need for so much formality," Luxian replied. Only then did the eight rise and lift their heads.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Throughout the exchange, Luxian’s attention was drawn to one person—a man among the supposed concubines. While the others were women, this particular man stood out, and not in a positive way. His demeanor suggested that he might be unwell or perhaps unwillingly placed in this position. Whatever the case, his behavior wasn’t wise. Displaying open hostility toward Primary Consort was far from a good idea.
Setting aside his curiosity, Luxian signaled for his maid to bring forward the jewelry box he had prepared in advance. The palace officials who had trained him in court etiquette had explained this tradition.
Though Luxian was personally displeased at the thought of sharing his husband with these people, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy. The concubines had been sent by various factions to spy on Qi Wang, much as Luxian himself had been married off against his will. For Qi Wang, having concubines must feel no different from adding more spies to his household.
Still, there was nothing Luxian could do about the customs of this world. Regardless of how he felt about Qi Wang’s concubines, he was obligated to follow tradition and present them with gifts.
Before anything else, the eight concubines were required to serve tea to Chen Luxian. Drinking eight cups of tea in succession wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, even if he only took a small sip from each cup.
"Since I am a man, these accessories hold little use for me. Feel free to pick something for yourselves," Luxian said, gesturing toward the jewelry box.
"Thank you, Your Highness," they replied, each selecting an item from the box as custom dictated. Once they had their gifts in hand, the concubines began exchanging glances, a silent communication that did not escape Luxian’s notice as he sat on a higher platform.
"Your Highness is dressed most elegantly today," Concubine Four began, breaking the silence.
"You’re absolutely right, Fourth Sister," Concubine Two quickly added. "But no matter how fine the clothing, if the hanger is worthless, no one will spare it a second glance. Don’t you agree, Your Highness?"
The remark was an obvious jab at Chen Luxian’s supposed lack of value, veiled as casual conversation. The concubines, along with their accompanying servants, stifled their laughter without bothering to hide their disdain for him.
The two maids who had served Chen Luxian for years struggled to keep their composure. They wanted to speak up but held back when they saw their master remaining calm and unmoved.
"I wonder, Concubine Two, what standard do you use to measure the value of a hanger?" Luxian asked, his tone cool but sharp. "From here, Ben Wangfei sees only low-quality hangers trying their best to make beautiful clothes look presentable."
He let the words sink in before continuing, "And most importantly, no matter the quality of the hanger, whether it catches someone’s eye or not ultimately depends on the buyer, wouldn’t you agree?"
With just a single statement, the newlywed consort from the Chen family—long considered worthless by the entire capital—silenced everyone in the room. His composed demeanor left no room for rebuttal.
Moreover, Luxian deliberately used the pronoun "Ben Wangfei", a formal self-address for a consort, to subtly assert his authority and remind the concubines of their place. They should have realized by now what was appropriate and what wasn’t.
From his investigation and the information provided by his four friends, Luxian knew that Zhao Qirong barely even knew the number, origins, or names of the so-called concubines in his household. What right did these concubines—political pawns placed in the manor—have to act arrogantly before the rightful consort? Unlike them, who held nothing more than a nominal position, Luxian’s status as Primary Consort carried far more weight.
"Alright, it’s getting late. You may all go about your business. Ben Wangfei needs to rest," Luxian declared, unwilling to waste more time talking to his husband’s concubines.
He leaned back against a large triangular pillow with a lazy demeanor, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. The maids then quickly ushered the concubines out of the room.
...
Meanwhile, in Qi Wang’s private study, Zhao Qirong sat leaning on the table, tapping the jade end of his brush against the surface. Dressed in a soldier’s uniform with no sign of his usual noble attire, he appeared lost in thought.
Before him stood a man in full Qinwang regalia, wearing the iconic tiger mask, and Chun Gong Gong, his trusted eunuch.
He had just received a report about the incident in the consort’s quarters half a ke earlier. The situation had not only piqued his curiosity about Eldest Young Master Chen but also made him question the presence of these concubines he had no prior knowledge of.
"Eight, Your Highness," Chun Gong Gong replied, handing over a ledger. "This record contains their names, families, the dates they entered the manor, who placed them here, and all interactions they’ve had with anyone inside or outside the Junwang manor. Everything is documented in detail."
Zhao Qirong accepted the ledger with satisfaction. Chun Tai had always been thorough in his duties.
"Has Qi Er returned yet?" Zhao Qirong asked casually as he flipped through the ledger page by page, his expression composed. He was referring to the second-ranked shadow guard under his command.
"He has returned, Your Highness," Qi San, dressed in full Qinwang attire, answered before signaling his companion to step forward and greet the Fourth Prince.
"This servant greets His Highness," Qi Er said, bowing. As a shadow guard who seldom appeared at the manor, he addressed his master more like a soldier.
"Report on the investigation," Zhao Qirong commanded.
"We have yet to identify the mastermind, Your Highness. I revisited the site of the attack, but the assassins’ bodies, weapons, and even bloodstains were thoroughly cleaned up. Passersby wouldn’t have the slightest idea that a battle took place there," Qi Er reported.
"Ben Wang meant the matter of Divine Doctor Xian," Zhao Qirong clarified. He didn’t reprimand Qi Er for reporting the wrong issue, as he hadn’t expected to uncover the assassin’s mastermind so quickly anyway. What he was more interested in was learning about the strange doctor who had healed him.
Previously, Zhao Qirong hadn’t given much thought to this matter. However, reports of his newlywed consort disappearing near the market just before Luxian’s appearance, coupled with the peculiar questions Luxian had asked about Qi Wang’s personal preferences, had started to raise suspicions in his mind.
Most importantly, hadn’t the eldest son of the Chen family worn a face veil when entering the manor? That detail alone reminded Zhao Qirong of the very first day he had met the peculiar man named Luxian.
"I searched through the records of every sect, clan, and even small businesses in the martial world. There’s no mention of any family with an intelligence network hosting a celebratory event this month. The Lu family in the capital is scarce. Aside from the Deputy Minister of Justice’s household, there isn’t any Lu family wealthy enough to purchase and renovate a tavern in such a short time. From local inquiries, the renovation of Hall of Lu Yue involved skilled carpenters and dozens of workers—an expense beyond the reach of anyone without considerable wealth," Qi Er detailed.
"Perhaps he wasn’t originally surnamed Lu," Zhao Qirong suggested, shaking his head. "After all, Ben Wang isn’t truly surnamed Rong either."
At this, the Eastern General’s lips curled into a small smile, recalling how Luxian had cheekily referred to him as ‘Rong Rong,’ unknown of his true identity.
"Continue investigating. Relay all findings to Qi Yi. Within seven days, Ben Wang must have an answer about whether the primary consort and Divine Doctor Xian are connected."
"Understood, Your Highness," Qi Er replied firmly, accepting the order with a bow before retreating.
Before leaving, however, Qi Er couldn’t help but steal a glance at his master’s face, a question lingering in his mind that he dared not voice aloud, lest he lose his head.
Why doesn’t His Highness just visit his consort and settle this once and for all?