Zhao Qihuang scoffed lightly, a hint of self-mockery playing on her lips.
“Like them? That was an act. I didn’t want to be treated like a monkey on display, allowing people to mock my ignorance and vulgarity for free.”
Previously, she had only attended those events to gain the Crown Prince’s favor, as the Empress was constantly whispering in her ear about her being the future Crown Princess. Zhao Qihuang knew the Crown Prince preferred talented women, so she tried to cater to his tastes.
But now, she harbored no desire to please him; she wished only to stay far away from that cold-hearted, ungrateful cousin, the Crown Prince.
Seeing Xiao Hong’s disbelief, Zhao Qihuang continued slowly: “When I was young, I was raised in the countryside. That marvelous Third Aunt, Lady Zhou Yuhu, always found a thousand excuses to send me far away whenever she hired tutors to teach Zhao Qiyun the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.”
“I don’t know if it was Lin Wangshu instructing her from behind the scenes, or if Lady Zhou herself was simply petty and afraid that I, the legitimate daughter of the Marquis, would steal the limelight from her precious daughter. They either claimed I was too frail for mental exertion or that a girl didn’t need to learn those useless things.”
“In short,” Zhao Qihuang stretched languidly, her posture still arrogant and brilliant, though a flicker of cold mockery crossed her eyes, “those mother and daughter—or rather, certain people in this manor—deliberately raised me into a useless flower vase and a simpleton.”
“Had it not been for the eminent monk who calculated that my fate was linked to the Empress’s destiny, I probably would have been packaged up by Lady Zhou long ago and sent off to be the second wife of her gambling nephew.”
Zhao Qihuang’s eyes held undisguised scorn and coldness. No one in the Yongan Marquis Manor had ever truly cared for her.
Just like today, the Old Madame claimed she was locking her up in this ancestral hall for reflection merely to give Grand Tutor Liu’s granddaughter (Liu Wanru) an explanation. But what was the truth? Deep down, the Old Madame despised her arrogant, unruly, and unlearned granddaughter, fearing that if she actually attended the Spring Flower Banquet, she would only bring shame upon the Yongan Marquis Manor.
Xiao Hong listened, her eyes reddening with distress.
“Mistress, please don’t speak like that. It hurts my heart to hear it.”
“What is so great about the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting? We can hire them! We’ll hire the best masters in the capital to teach you! I refuse to believe that with your intelligence, Mistress, you couldn’t learn those trivial things!”
Zhao Qihuang heard this and burst out laughing, her bright eyes curving into crescents.
“Xiao Hong, this Commandery Princess still knows herself well.”
“I’m just not cut out for it.”
“Besides,” she shifted into a more comfortable position, practically sinking into the soft couch, “the noble ladies in the capital are competing fiercely. Zither, chess, calligraphy, poetry, wine, and flowers—they want to master everything, cultivating themselves into ten-skill prodigies.”
“My status is already noble enough, and my face is pretty enough. I have to leave some room for these talented ladies to breathe, don’t I?”
“Otherwise, wouldn’t they feel inferior to the point of self-loathing?”
Xiao Hong: “…”
Her Commandery Princess’s twisted logic was becoming increasingly sophisticated.
But looking at Zhao Qihuang’s carefree, charming appearance, Xiao Hong felt that perhaps the Commandery Princess was right. What were the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting compared to her? Her Commandery Princess was naturally meant to be a flamboyant and unrestrained phoenix!
Though she spoke thus, Zhao Qihuang’s fingers, holding a grape, paused, hesitant to put it in her mouth. After so many years of neglect, her casual dismissal contained a degree of self-comfort.
Involuntarily, a handsome and towering figure flashed through Zhao Qihuang’s mind.
The first time she met Wei Lanzhou, she was indeed dazzled by his handsome, jade-like face. But what truly captivated her was more than just his good looks.
It was at the Qiong Lin Banquet, where he played drinking games with the newly successful scholars, reciting poetry and prose effortlessly, discussing matters with such ease that it was like watching masts turn to ash in a conversation, drawing cheers from the entire hall.
It was when he was egged on by the crowd at the banquet to practice calligraphy on the *Xuelang Xuan* paper; the powerful, sweeping strokes and the spirit contained within the characters left even her, who knew nothing of calligraphy, completely stunned.
That time, he seemed to possess a light.
A light she had never owned, and one she seemed eternally unable to reach.
At that moment, a strange impulse seized her. She thought that if she could just take him as her teacher, learning even a fraction of his skill would be enough. This way, she wouldn’t be mocked or looked down upon. Zhao Qihuang’s fingers suddenly tightened, nearly crushing the grape in her hand.
How could she forget?
When she mustered the greatest courage of her life, timidly attempting to express her desire to seek his instruction… How that man, the capital’s most esteemed Shizi, had publicly crushed her dignity underfoot.
The room filled with stifled laughter, like countless invisible hands viciously tearing at her already scarce reputation.
Zhao Qihuang took a deep breath and tossed the slightly misshapen grape back onto the plate.
“Hmph.”
A barely audible cold laugh escaped her lips.
Wei Lanzhou, where was he now?
Oh, right.
He was currently lying neatly in the Ministry of Justice prison, along with his entire Wei clan. The hands that once wielded the brush and commanded the realm were likely now bound by cold shackles.
All his pride, all his sharpness, all his talent, would gradually be worn away in that sunless prison.
Thinking of this, Zhao Qihuang felt an indescribable surge of satisfaction in her heart.
She leaned back languidly onto the imperial concubine couch, a dazzling, brilliant smile curving her lips.
This smile was more genuine and unrestrained than before.
How wonderful.
This ancestral hall truly was a peaceful place.
***
Five days passed in a flash within the ancestral hall. No one paid her any mind, and no one mentioned letting her out.
Every day, wet nurse Wan would bring exquisite meals on time—numerous dishes, all her favorite flavors.
During lunch that day, wet nurse Wan was arranging the dishes when Zhao Qihuang asked, “Has Grandmother said when she will let me out?”
Wet nurse Wan’s hand, holding the soup spoon, paused. She spoke evasively: “Commandery Princess, at the Spring Flower Banquet the day before yesterday, Third Mistress (Zhao Qiyun) shone brilliantly.”
Zhao Qihuang glanced up at her and asked flatly, “And so?”
Wet nurse Wan sighed and continued, “Apart from the capital’s famous talented lady, Liu Wanru, only Third Mistress won a prize, bringing great honor to our Marquis Manor.” She carefully watched Zhao Qihuang’s expression. “The Old Madame was overjoyed.”
The words weren’t complete, but Zhao Qihuang immediately grasped the implication. She scoffed, setting down her chopsticks.
“So, Grandmother intends for me, the granddaughter who ‘lost face,’ to make way for the granddaughter who ‘gained face,’ keeping me locked up for a few extra days so her prestige can grow further?”
Wet nurse Wan lowered her head. “The Old Madame said that she asks the Commandery Princess to endure this inconvenience for a few more days, and she will certainly compensate you well later.”
“Compensate?” Zhao Qihuang picked up her teacup and slowly took a sip. “I can certainly wait, as long as Grandmother doesn’t regret it.”
Wet nurse Wan, relieved that she wasn’t making a scene, smiled ingratiatingly. “The Commandery Princess may order anything you need; this old servant will wait outside.” She retreated, carefully closing the ancestral hall door tightly behind her.
Xiao Hong asked worriedly, “Commandery Princess, what should we do?”
Zhao Qihuang slowly leaned back into the rocking chair. “Let them be proud for a few more days. The best performances are worth waiting for.”