The soft fabric slipped through Shen Yu’s fingers like loose sand as he withdrew his hand.
Qi Jue stood beside him, puzzled. “Why is she so insistent on attending the banquet?”
Su Yihan had no desire to participate in the consort selection banquet. This year marked her coming-of-age, and her father had already faced criticism from the court because of her.
Excessive imperial favor could easily bring calamity. If she skipped the banquet now, her father’s reputation would suffer even more, as people would think he was abusing his favor.
Since they wanted to see her, she would show them exactly how frail she was.
If anything happened to her at the banquet, no one would dare later claim she was being dramatic or accuse her father of overstepping.
The sedan chair came to a halt before the banquet. Slowly, they made their way toward the palace—the selection had already begun.
The daughter of the Minister was dancing, her peach-colored robes fluttering gracefully.
The emperor watched with fascination.
Until Su Yihan’s cough interrupted him.
All eyes turned toward her.
Most did not know her appearance, though the emperor did. He quickly said,
“Wangyou, no need for formalities. Please, sit.”
At his words, everyone exchanged glances.
Su Yihan’s lips were pale beyond the concealment of rouge. The handkerchief she twisted in her hands was stained with blood. Her body was excessively slender. Supporting herself, she slowly sat down—and coughed again.
The sound made hearts tremble.
A beauty—an absolutely stunning one.
Emperor Yun Li sighed lightly. Were it not for her fragile health, she would have surely been taken into the palace as a consort.
Alas, a sickly beauty—bringing her into the palace meant a life of servitude. Even a little exertion could endanger her life.
Seeing her condition, everyone finally believed it. She truly could not endure any strain.
Once seated, Su Yihan held her hand warmer silently. Su Jin glanced at her from time to time, his eyes overflowing with pity.
The Minister’s daughter’s performance was interrupted. Beautiful and flamboyant, she glared at Su Yihan viciously.
She had not been chosen by Yun Li, likely because of the comparison to Su Yihan—everything around her now seemed dimmed.
“Next—”
The Minister’s daughter spun around and sat down, clearly harboring resentment toward Su Yihan.
Finally, it was Su Yihan’s turn. Though only to go through the motions, she still had to perform.
With Tao Chun’s support, Su Yihan stood, offering a bitter smile.
“Your Majesty’s favor overwhelms me. I have been weak since childhood, unable to even lift a brush. Truly, I am ashamed…”
She lowered her head, tears glistening in her eyes.
Yun Li felt both heartache and regret. Just as he was about to speak, the Empress Dowager interrupted:
“She must perform at least once. Why else would Miss Su come here?”
The daughter of a court official received treatment surpassing even a princess, exempt from the selection—but now her face was exposed. Surely she must display some talent for the audience.
Su Yihan had anticipated this. Since they insisted…
Out of their line of sight, she curved her lips into a faint smile.
She answered in a soft, aggrieved voice, “Yes.”
She murmured, “I cannot lift a brush, nor pluck a string. Then I shall simply dance a little.”
Tao Chun released her. Accompanied by drums and music, Su Yihan took two steps, her face set in determined resolve—and then spat blood.
The blood was dark. Her vision blurred. She collapsed onto the ground.
“Summon the imperial physician! Quickly!”
Panic erupted. Su Jin effortlessly scooped up his feather-light daughter and rushed toward the Imperial Medical Hall.
The Empress Dowager’s shock did not fade.
She had assumed Su Yihan was merely pretending. Even if sickly, she would not collapse from a simple dance.
Who knew she could faint after just a few steps?
Her expression darkened—this was her fault, forcing the girl to dance.
With Su Jin’s doting nature, she feared…
Suppressing her regret, the Empress Dowager said, “Go check on her.”
The banquet effectively ended.
The imperial physician checked her pulse, repeating the usual warnings: avoid jolts, avoid cold winds, keep warm, remember to take medicine…
Su Yihan’s fainting was not an act—it was real. She sipped the medicine her father personally fed her.
In truth, Shen Yu’s earlier reckless riding had indirectly helped. Without the jolt from the sedan, she might not have collapsed after just two steps.
After enduring the entire journey, the sudden burst of blood likely stunned everyone at the banquet.
Su Yihan’s eyes glimmered with mischievous satisfaction.
Su Jin was equally shocked. “Wangyou, this is Father’s fault. I should have spoken up for you. We’ll go home—once you feel better, we’ll return immediately.”
“Father,” Su Yihan soothed softly, “Wangyou is fine.”
This public fainting also served a purpose—forcing the Empress Dowager to be cautious for a while and reducing criticism of her father in court.
It had been worthwhile.
The Empress Dowager and Yun Li sent many rare tonics and jewelry.
The Empress Dowager remarked, “If she’s this frail, why force her to dance?”
Having long held a high position, admitting fault was impossible for her. Yun Li did not argue.
Su Jin’s temper flared—obviously, she had pushed Wangyou to dance.
Su Jin’s hot temper often led to confrontations. Su Yihan, fearing her father, gently restrained him.
“Father, the Empress Dowager is right.”
Few dared to contradict the Empress Dowager in court. At this time in Yun Zhao, real power rested largely with the Empress Dowager.
Su Jin restrained himself, careful not to harm his delicate daughter.
The Empress Dowager was pleased with obedient Su Yihan.
After resting in the palace for a while, Su Yihan had someone bring her back home.
Back at the residence, she leaned against the soft couch, clutching her hand warmer and a medical book.
She spoke softly, “Tao Chun.”
Tao Chun hurried over, having replaced the burnt incense.
Su Yihan wrote two lines on paper, folded it, and handed it to Tao Chun.
“Deliver this to that person.”
Tao Chun: “Yes, Miss.”
In the early hours, news came from the palace: the Empress Dowager had developed a rash and would go to the summer palace to recuperate for several days.
Su Yihan slowly opened her eyes. The wind swept past the window. She wrapped herself tightly in a thick woolen cloak.
She opened the window, feeling the breeze.
Without a word, a hand extended from the side, holding a bottle of medicine.
“An apology,” said Shen Yu.
Su Yihan said nothing. Shen Yu placed the medicine on the windowsill.
“The frost is heavy, and the dew dense. Miss Su, close the window and rest early.”
He paused, then left.
Su Yihan picked up the medicine and closed the window.
Opening the lid, she smelled it—it was warming medicine, a rare powder made from crushed precious herbs, priceless on the market.
She put it away.
She could understand Shen Yu’s actions on the street earlier. As a general stationed at the border, he returned to find a lady raised in a boudoir acting so arrogantly, demanding the crowd clear the streets—more than even the emperor’s presence warranted. Naturally, he would be displeased.
The empire, protected by the lives of countless soldiers, was not meant to cater to pampered girls.
Yet upon learning the truth, Shen Yu sought to apologize and even brought gifts.
Su Yihan had no reason to continue blaming him.
She put the medicine away. Later into the night, she had no mind for sleep, so she sat by the fire, flipping through her books.