The bowl of mung bean soup was successfully delivered to the Emperor. Whether it was due to its taste or the Emperor’s fondness for old sentiments, he headed directly to Yunhua Palace that afternoon.
No one was waiting outside Yunhua Palace to greet him, as if unaware of the Emperor’s arrival. Chen An observed the Emperor’s expression but could discern neither joy nor anger. Just as he was about to announce the Emperor’s arrival, he was stopped.
The Emperor walked straight into Yunhua Palace. The maids and eunuchs guarding the entrance caught sight of the bright yellow attire and, without even looking up, knew who it was. They hurriedly bowed in greeting.
“Dismissed,” Qi Jingheng said with a wave, his tone indifferent.
As he entered the inner hall, the sound of string and bamboo instruments reached his ears—it seemed someone was enjoying music. Peering through the beaded curtain, he quietly observed the scene inside. Luo Wanling reclined comfortably on a small couch, listening to the music, while in the center of the room, a woman dressed in a light goose-yellow gown embroidered with white begonia flowers danced.
Light as a swallow, she stood on tiptoe, barefoot, her long sleeves flowing gracefully as she moved to the rhythm of the music. At that moment, she was radiant, every smile and frown breathtakingly beautiful.
Qi Jingheng watched silently. He had expected her to be here—after all, the Luo family had sent her into the palace and would undoubtedly find a way to bring her before him. The reason he hadn’t summoned her immediately that day, aside from being occupied with state affairs, was to gauge the Luo family’s intentions.
Qi Jingheng pushed aside the beaded curtain and entered. “My beloved consort is in high spirits. Why not invite me to enjoy the performance with you?”
As his voice rang out, the music abruptly stopped. Everyone bowed in greeting, and Luo Shuran, startled, ceased dancing and retreated to the side to pay her respects.
Luo Wanling looked nervous as she hurried down from her seat to bow. Her reaction was not an act—she genuinely felt a sense of awe toward the Emperor. Up close, she observed his noble bearing, unmatched in elegance, the most handsome man in the realm. Only someone like him was worthy of her. As she caught the distinct scent of ambergris from him, her emotions grew complicated.
If she could serve him now, she would not want to give up the opportunity. Yet she knew better than to focus solely on immediate gains. The road ahead was long, and there would be other chances.
Qi Jingheng waved his hand. “Rise.”
Luo Wanling stood up, pretending not to have expected his arrival. “Your Majesty, why did you come without informing me? I failed to properly welcome you, too engrossed in listening to music and watching my sister dance. How impolite of me.”
She hadn’t expected the Emperor to remember their old sentiments and seek her out after receiving the mung bean soup.
Qi Jingheng glanced toward the corner, where Luo Shuran stood with her head bowed, her entire body tense, clearly frightened. Today, her fear seemed different from yesterday’s.
“Continue the music. I’d like to listen as well,” Qi Jingheng said with a wave, moving forward as he spoke.
Drawing closer, Qi Jingheng lowered his gaze to Luo Shuran’s slender neck. Her dance attire was thin and translucent, alluring yet reminiscent of a courtesan’s garb. As a palace consort from a respectable family, who would willingly wear such frivolous clothing? He couldn’t help but recall her words in the pavilion, the melancholy and pain she had revealed. It seemed she was unwilling, which explained why she appeared so subdued and timid today.
“Dismissed,” Qi Jingheng said to Luo Shuran. As his words fell, he noticed the woman before him tremble slightly before retreating backward.
A flicker of disdain crossed Luo Wanling’s eyes. She had thought this attire would catch the eye of the vigorous young Emperor, but he seemed not only unimpressed but displeased by it.
Thinking this, Luo Wanling served the Emperor as he took his seat, then turned her head to signal Yi Momo to take Luo Shuran down to change clothes.
Luo Shuran stepped back, quietly lifting her gaze, only to unexpectedly meet the Emperor’s eyes directly.
In that instant, she felt as if an overwhelming heat rushed toward her, piercing through her body and striking deep into her soul.
She lowered her head and slowly exited. Just from that one glance, Luo Shuran felt a sense of calm settle within her.
After changing into a purple silk dress and being adorned by Yi Momo’s attendants, she returned to the hall and sat quietly to the side.
Qi Jingheng listened to the music, his peripheral gaze drifting toward that side. Today, she seemed exceptionally serene, as docile as a cloth doll. Having seen her lively moments before, he now sensed a deep sorrow within her.
In the afternoon, the Emperor stayed at Yunhua Palace for a while before returning to the Imperial Study.
Luo Wanling leaned on the couch, supporting her forehead with her hand. She opened her eyes, her tone tinged with irritation. “Is the Emperor dissatisfied with her or with me? Why didn’t he even stay for dinner?”
It was often said that the Emperor’s intentions were difficult to discern, and she now felt this deeply.
As for the Emperor’s thoughts, who could truly grasp them? Yi Momo could only consider her words carefully. “It’s hard to say. It all depends on whether the Emperor summons her to attend him tonight.”
Hearing this, Luo Wanling could only resign herself. Her feelings were complex, but after all the effort she had put into the arrangement, she still hoped for some result.
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Study,
Chen An entered with tea and saw the Emperor standing by the desk, staring motionlessly at a memorial in his hand as if deep in thought.
He lightened his footsteps, careful not to disturb the Emperor, and quietly set down the tea.
But upon closer inspection, he noticed the characters on the memorial were upside down. His lips trembled—this… the Emperor’s mind was clearly not on official matters.
Having served the Emperor for years, Chen An could naturally sense when something was amiss.
Others might not notice and might even think the Emperor disliked Luo Baolin, but Chen An felt that the Emperor seemed interested in this Luo Baolin.
“Your Majesty, it is time for dinner,” Chen An said, bowing as he approached.
Qi Jingheng snapped back to attention, slowly setting down the memorial and closing it as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
“Your Majesty, shall we arrange for an attendant tonight?” Chen An asked quietly as he served the Emperor his meal. After all, such matters depended on the Emperor’s interest, and only then could the Imperial Bedchamber Bureau make arrangements.
“Hmm,” Qi Jingheng nodded, then continued his meal in silence, his deep eyes lost in thought.
After dinner, Chen An ordered the attendants to bring in the selection of concubine plaques. He deliberately glanced over them and noticed Luo Baolin’s plaque placed in a very prominent position today.
Without a word, Chen An waved his horsetail whisk, signaling for the attendants to present the plaques to the Emperor.
Not long after, news arrived.
The Emperor had summoned Luo Baolin to attend him.
In Yunhua Palace, Luo Wanling was the first to learn the result. She breathed a sigh of relief, though her heart felt tight with discomfort. Still, she prioritized the family’s interests.
“Summon an experienced matron to instruct her on the rules of attending the Emperor. She must not overstep.”
Meanwhile, in Xianyun Pavilion, the news of the summons caused a flurry of activity. Luo Shuran’s heart was both calm and unsettled. Everything seemed to be unfolding as she had hoped, yet the situation also felt unpredictable.