Night fell. Linde Hall.
The hall was brightly lit, filled with the lingering sound of silk and bamboo instruments. Dozens of bronze tree-shaped lampstands illuminated the gilded coiling dragon pillars down to the finest detail.
The air carried the scent of wine and incense. Inside the hall, seats had already been arranged according to rank, filling the space completely.
Officials in robes of various brocades and court attire, along with noble ladies adorned in exquisite jewelry, conversed in low voices, their faces wearing polite, appropriate smiles.
At the head seat among the civil officials, Cui Weijin sat alone.
He was no longer wearing the solemn court attire from earlier in the day, having changed into a deep purple robe. The material was refined—less imposing, but lending him an air of quiet nobility.
He sat upright, toying with a plain white jade wine cup in his hand, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding noise and the occasional glances cast his way.
Only when the head of the Zheng Family across from him raised a cup in greeting did he give a slight nod in return.
Behind and slightly below him sat a young master in a moon-white brocade robe. His complexion was fair, his features pleasing—this was Cui Huai.
He looked around with curiosity. When his gaze passed over the elegantly dressed noble ladies, it lingered briefly before politely shifting away—until—
At the entrance, a court eunuch suddenly straightened his posture, took a deep breath, and his sharp voice pierced through the noise:
“His Majesty arrives—Princess of Lin’an arrives—”
The sounds of conversation and clinking cups abruptly ceased.
Everyone in the hall—whether seated or standing—rose at once and bowed deeply.
Emperor Ming Chong entered slowly in his imperial robes, a faint smile on his face as he swept his gaze over the crowd.
At his side walked Princess Ming Zhao, dressed in a bright yellow robe.
The fabric was the finest gold-threaded brocade, embroidered with large lotus patterns. Her jet-black hair was styled in a lofty cloud-like bun, adorned with a gold and kingfisher feather hairpin, its dangling ornaments swaying gently beside her ears.
But what drew the most attention was not her attire or ornaments—it was her face.
A striking, vivid beauty.
Her brows were naturally dark without need for paint; her lips naturally red without adornment. Her peach blossom eyes were large and captivating. There was no trace of the shyness expected of a newly returned Princess—only a direct, assessing gaze.
Following Emperor Ming Chong, she walked step by step toward the imperial dais. Her seat was above the steps, beside the imperial throne.
To reach it, she had to pass in front of Cui Weijin.
Cui Weijin maintained his bowed posture, his gaze lowered to the ground before him.
She fixed her eyes on his lowered profile. Her gaze was so direct that even without looking up, Cui Weijin could sense it.
Princess Ming Zhao did not notice that behind him, the young master in the moon-white robe had already lifted his head involuntarily as she approached.
Cui Huai stared, stunned.
He had seen many beauties—gentle, charming, aloof—but never one like this.
Vivid. Lively. Unrestrained.
Young and inexperienced, he could not hide his feelings upon encountering someone who stirred his heart.
He recalled his uncle’s words from a few days ago: “The Princess of Lin’an is returning. You are of suitable age—there is intention to betroth her to you.”
The thought made him unconsciously let out a soft laugh.
That quiet chuckle sounded especially abrupt in the silent hall.
Cui Weijin, in front of him, turned his head slightly and cast a faint glance backward.
Cui Huai shivered, hastily lowering his head, not daring to make another sound.
Emperor Ming Chong and Princess Ming Zhao took their seats on the dais. Emperor Ming Chong raised a hand.
“Rise.”
“Today is a family banquet to welcome Lin’an. All present are trusted ministers and kin whom I regard as family. There is no need for excessive formality—relax and enjoy.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty—” the crowd responded in unison, rising and taking their seats once more.
The music resumed. Palace attendants moved silently, refilling wine and serving dishes.
The atmosphere gradually grew lively again—voices of conversation and toasting filled the hall.
After taking her seat, Princess Ming Zhao did not sit in the composed manner of typical noble ladies. Instead, she rested her chin on one hand, her gaze landing with interest on Cui Weijin below.
He was speaking quietly with the head of the Wang Family. She watched him openly, without concealment.
【Tsk.】 she clicked her tongue inwardly. 【That face… truly perfectly formed.】
【Nothing to fault. A nose is a nose, eyes are eyes.】
Her gaze moved to his shoulders and waist beneath the deep purple robe. The fabric followed his form, revealing broad shoulders and a clean, defined waist. Even seated, his back remained perfectly straight.
【Tall enough too. Well-built frame. You can tell the lines even through the clothes…】
A shameless thought passed through her mind.
【If I could really make him my consort… holding him at night, having him attend to me… wouldn’t that be quite a good deal?】
The thought was casual and bold. Even she found it amusing.
As these outrageous thoughts crossed her mind, Cui Weijin—who had been speaking with lowered eyes—heard every word clearly.
His fingers paused on the white jade wine cup, and some wine spilled over.
He lifted his eyes and looked toward the dais where Princess Ming Zhao sat.
Across half the hall, through the flickering candlelight and murmur of voices, their gazes collided.
Princess Ming Zhao did not look away.
Not only did she not avoid his gaze—she gave him a distinctly teasing wink with her left eye and smiled.
A clear, unmistakable wink.
Utterly improper. Frivolous!
His Adam’s apple shifted. He tilted his head back and drained the remaining wine in his cup, setting it down with a soft clink.
If anyone else had dared behave this way toward him, they would have already been punished under palace law.
Yet this Princess still acted so brazenly, with no regard for propriety.
It must be that she was using some kind of witchcraft on him. This matter required careful consideration.
Cui Huai, however, completely misunderstood.
From his angle, he only saw the Princess on the dais suddenly smile in his direction—and even give a playful wink.
His face flushed red. He quickly lowered his head, pretending to drink, but his hand trembled so much that a few drops of wine spilled onto his sleeve.
“She smiled at me… did she notice me too?” he murmured.
The corners of his lips couldn’t help but lift.
Beside him, Cui Xueqin took in her elder brother’s foolish, infatuated expression in full.
She curled her lips in disdain, lifting her wide sleeve to cover her face as she leaned closer.
“Brother, look at yourself!”
“Your eyes are about to fall out. Can you restrain yourself? Do you even realize where you are?”
Embarrassed by her words, Cui Huai lowered his head awkwardly, though his gaze still couldn’t resist drifting toward the dais.
But she had seen clearly—the Princess of Lin’an’s smile and wink had been directed at their cousin in front!
Thankfully, her cousin had not responded.
That shameless, mad Princess!
Cui Xueqin clenched the embroidered handkerchief in her hand tightly.
She had only just returned to Ye City, yet she already dared to flirt so openly with their cousin!
Relying on that seductive face of hers, dressed so flamboyantly, she wanted to attach herself to him?
A mad Princess who had run wild in the countryside for over a decade—how could she be worthy of coveting her cousin?
Just then, from the Zheng Family’s seating area not far across, Zheng Yingying also cast a glance in her direction.