After all, he is his own flesh and blood…
In the latter half of the night, faint thunder rumbled, ushering in a gentle spring rain. As dawn light filtered through the latticed windows, the rain had softened into a fine mist, draping the Mei Manor as if veiled in a layer of gauze. Within the Plum Fragrance Pavilion, apricot blossoms bloomed vibrantly, jade-like grass sprouted tender shoots, mountain stones bathed in dew, and the stone paths remained dust-free. Beneath the eaves, an old nest welcomed new swallows, as two birds darted through the mist and alighted upon the half-open carved wooden window.
By the window, a young girl sat listlessly, her chin propped in her hand, still unadorned by makeup, her delicate face tinged with a hint of resentment.
Mei Yao watched the two swallows, unbothered by her presence as they chirped and nestled close to each other, and a faint blush crept onto her jade-like cheeks.
She had slept restlessly through the night and had been sitting by the window since early morning, lost in troubled thoughts.
That man had climbed in through this very window last night, managing to evade the patrolling guards of the manor. That Lord Ye Ying truly deserved to be punished.
The events of last night had left her somewhat at a disadvantage.
Initially, she had held the upper hand in their confrontation, having even uncovered his weakness. Yet, to her surprise, he had caught her off guard with a sudden, forceful kiss, leaving her thoughts utterly scattered and blank.
He fought without honor—truly, that man was utterly wicked.
After pondering for a long while, she concluded that her own lack of experience was to blame. Had she possessed the worldly wisdom of someone like Feng Wu, she would never have been thrown off balance by such a petty trick.
In her childhood, she had half-pleaded, half-commanded Feng Wu to take her to the Spring Oriole Pavilion. There, in a warmly scented room, she had enjoyed fruits and tea while listening to half an hour of zither music before being led back by Feng Wu. At the time, she had remarked to Feng Wu that the music was rather ordinary, but the performers were quite pleasing to the eye. Only later did she realize she had been tricked by Feng Wu.
Feng Xiu brought water to assist with her toilette, gazing at her mistress’s snow-white skin and flower-like beauty, wondering to whom she might be betrothed. Now, with the sudden appearance of the Second Young Master Yan from Prince Ping’s household—who bore an uncanny resemblance to the man her mistress held in her heart—her mistress had been distracted for days, clearly captivated. Though a servant, Feng Xiu understood that His Majesty would never allow two princes of different surnames to marry. Her mistress’s marriage prospects remained uncertain, subject to who knew what twists and turns.
Feng Xiu loosely arranged her mistress’s hair into a cloud-like bun, then tilted a delicate gold hairpin adorned with butterflies and scattered blossoms into it, revealing her full and elegant forehead. Her willow-leaf brows held a misty allure, her peach-blossom eyes sparkled brightly, and a touch of rouge on her lips made them glisten, captivating to the point where one could hardly look away—like a begonia blooming with dew in the spring.
Outside, the fine rain still hung like a mist. Feng Xiu added a draped shawl and remarked casually, “Does Her Majesty the Empress not consider the weather when scheduling her inner palace banquet? Why must it fall on such a day?”
Mei Yao did not respond. Feng Xiu continued chattering, “Who knows what the palace is thinking? They speak of arranging a marriage, yet it’s been over a month without any clear indication, while banquets and gatherings are held one after another.”
“The betrothal is merely a pretext—it’s nothing more than holding us as hostages. My father occupies the perilous southern frontier, guarding it alone. At court, those who cling to the notion that ‘those not of our kind must harbor ill intentions’ are sure to spread slander, accusing him of nurturing bandits to strengthen his own position and harboring disloyal ambitions. How could His Majesty rest easy?”
Mei Yao rose and walked gracefully to the bedside, continuing, “Moreover, this so-called betrothal is also a test—both a test of my father by the old emperor and a test of the princes and ministers. After all, with my father’s strength, if he were to challenge the court, he could certainly put up a fight.”
She fastened the bone whistle around her neck, tucking it beneath her clothes, then added, “Actually, their gatherings aren’t solely for this purpose. Spring warmth brings life to all things, and it’s a natural time for budding affections. The Empress Dowager and Empress in the capital, along with noblewomen and matriarchs of various households, naturally seize every opportunity to find suitable matches for their younger generations. Spring banquets, inner court feasts, and later the spring hunt—they have plenty of stages set up for such purposes.”
Feng Xiu recalled the several young masters she had seen at the last spring banquet. They all appeared spirited and ambitious, and some even possessed the grace of orchids and jade trees. However, noble sons in the capital were accustomed to taking multiple wives and concubines, let alone the princes and imperial descendants. For this reason alone, Feng Xiu felt none of them were suitable matches for her young mistress. Her young mistress, a person of heavenly grace and jade-like purity—how could she share her beloved with others?
Shuangqi brought in porridge and a few side dishes from the small kitchen, entering to report, “Young Mistress, the carriage and horses are ready. We can depart after breakfast.”
Mei Yao ate a little before heading out. As she walked along the damp stone path, she thought about the tedious banquet she would have to endure and felt utterly bored.
Since it was an inner court feast hosted by the Empress, only matriarchs and young female relatives from various households attended. His Majesty made only a brief appearance before leaving, leaving the imperial consorts to accompany the guests in merry conversation and laughter. Mei Yao observed the girls around her age, all as delicate and vibrant as flowers. Whether gentle or lively, they were well-mannered and properly raised, each striving to leave a good impression on the elders at the banquet in hopes of securing a favorable match.
These were fine young ladies, yet they were displayed and selected like objects. The thought made Mei Yao sigh inwardly.
And what of herself now? Was she not in the same position?
If she were still in the southern borderlands, she would be the unrivaled pearl of the barbarian king, and being chosen by others would be utterly impossible. She would be the one doing the choosing, and keeping a few male attendants for pleasure would be no great matter. Sharing a lover with others would be nothing short of a joke.
A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips.
A young palace maid approached, saying that Princess Fu Guang had requested her presence. Mei Yao knew her marriage would not be decided at such a banquet, and she was more than eager to leave for some fresh air. Likely, the Seventh Princess understood her feelings and had come to invite her. After bidding farewell to the Empress, she left with Feng Xiu and Shuangqi.
Behind her, she could hear the sour remarks of some consort or noblewoman: “It’s just as well she left. With her here, she overshadows the radiance of all our daughters…”
Empress Li Xiuyue chatted with the guests for a while, her gaze inadvertently sweeping over the crowd. Suddenly, she realized someone was missing from the banquet, and a wave of irritation washed over her, though she showed no sign of it on her face. Instructing the consorts below her to entertain the noble ladies properly, she left with her attendants.
Li Xiuyue hurried back to her palace with her entourage. As soon as she stepped through the palace gates, she saw Ma Quan’er, Li Sheng’s ever-present attendant, turn and flee like a rabbit spotting an eagle!
Chunjin, the chief palace maid beside Li Xiuyue, immediately shouted, “Halt!”
Ma Quan’er shuddered, his feet stumbling as he turned and knelt, stammering incoherently, “Your Majesty, greetings to Her Majesty the Empress!”
Chunjin scolded, “Have you lost your mind? You have no manners at all! Why run when you see Her Majesty?”
As Ma Quan’er stammered, Li Xiuyue spoke coldly, “Kneel right there!”
With that, she strode past the trembling Ma Quan’er, leading her attendants swiftly inside.
She circled around to a side hall behind Baohua Hall and saw the guard at the door was a frail young palace maid. Upon seeing the imperial carriage, this person, much like Ma Quan’er, panicked and was about to step inside the hall. Li Xiuyue raised an eyebrow and pointed, though she did not speak, her cold and stern imperial aura was enough to intimidate. The young palace maid dared not move again and knelt straight down.
Li Xiuyue signaled her attendants to stop and entered the hall alone.
The abrupt, blush-inducing moans of a woman suddenly reached her ears, with flirtatious and wanton sounds continuing without end, accompanied by the creaking of the pearwood carved six-poster canopy bed, as if it were about to be shaken apart!
Li Xiuyue walked around a large twelve-panel rosewood screen inlaid with jade and saw women’s clothing scattered all over the floor, piece by piece leading to the carved jade bed. Behind the thin curtains of the bed, tightly entangled figures rose and fell, directly crashing into her sight. The gauzy curtains, thin as cicada wings, hardly concealed anything. Li Xiuyue could even clearly see the soft silk covering the woman’s eyes.
Li Xiuyue felt her blood boiling, wishing she could immediately step forward to reprimand and punish. However, the man on the bed was, after all, her own biological son. Frightening him abruptly might risk harming him, so she could only endure and refrain from acting out.
The two on the bed were consumed by passion, completely unaware that someone had entered the hall. The woman on the bed, her hair disheveled, repeatedly begged for mercy, but her words were incoherent. The man acted fiercely, with a sudden storm-like intensity, as if crushing flowers and breaking willows.
Only after finishing did Li Sheng suddenly sense something amiss and called out toward the outside of the curtain, “Mother Empress?”
The woman beneath him, upon hearing the words “Mother Empress,” was so frightened that she tore off the silk covering her eyes. She saw the Empress, dressed in magnificent robes, standing outside the curtain, her anger so intense it seemed capable of burning someone alive!
She let out a frightened cry, scrambled up, curled into a ball, pulled the blanket over herself, and shrank into the corner of the bed. She wanted to put on her clothes and beg for mercy but realized her clothes had been thrown on the floor outside the curtain, not even a single undergarment left within her reach.
In contrast, Li Sheng showed no panic. As he reached under the bed for his trousers, he said leisurely, “Does Mother Empress stand here to teach your son how to dress?”
Li Xiuyue was so furious she felt as if her jade-like teeth were about to shatter. She restrained herself, turned her back, her chest heaving violently, her beautiful eyes almost spitting fire!
Li Sheng pulled up his trousers, bent down to pick up the woman’s clothes scattered on the floor, and tossed them to the person on the bed. The rustling sounds of dressing echoed clearly in the empty hall.