Consort Ning was startled by the man’s shout, nearly bursting into tears, her pitiful appearance tugging at the heartstrings.
Jiang Wan initially felt it had nothing to do with her, but seeing Consort Ning like this, she waved her hand dismissively. “Consort Ning intended to celebrate the festival with grace, and her attire is proper dancewear, nothing inappropriate.”
Noticing Huan Cheng’s gaze, she smiled again. “Besides, as long as Your Majesty enjoys it.”
Huan Cheng’s brow twitched, and he deftly shifted the topic, calming those who sought trouble. “Enough, it’s fine.”
The matter was reluctantly dropped.
As the final performance approached, Jiang Wan sighed, glancing at the empty seat, and stood up.
Huan Cheng immediately asked, “Where is the Empress going?”
“To change clothes.”
Shortly after she left, the banquet fell into a sudden silence, everyone holding their breath as they watched the Seal Keeper of the Ceremonial Directorate arrive late.
Xie Changlin calmly took the seat Jiang Wan had reserved for him, scanning the crowd as they rose to bow. “Why are you all staring at me? Carry on with your business.”
Only then did the atmosphere ease slightly.
Rong Qing stepped forward to serve Xie Changlin, quietly mentioning, “Earlier, the maid by Her Majesty’s side said that the dishes at Your Eminence’s table were all prepared by Her Majesty herself.”
Xie Changlin toyed with his wine cup but did not touch it.
When others tried to engage him in conversation, he paid little attention, yet no one dared complain. After all, this lord rarely bothered with the Emperor, let alone anyone else, and today, he seemed to be in a particularly poor mood.
It was fortunate he didn’t cause trouble for them.
Better not to provoke him.
Thus, he sat alone, isolated from the lively surroundings, a stark contrast to the festivities.
Rong Qing had once thought that loneliness was a word that should never be associated with Xie Changlin. With power that overshadowed the court and the wilds, a eunuch who had risen to such heights commanded respect and fear. Even as a notorious schemer, countless people clamored to curry favor with him.
Yet, on this Mid-Autumn Festival, a day meant for reunion, this lord had no one by his side except him.
“Next performance: ‘Spring River, Flowers, and Moonlit Night’—”
The lights in the banquet hall suddenly dimmed, and the plucking of a pipa string silenced the surrounding whispers.
A beam of light illuminated a figure who seemed to have appeared out of thin air.
A gentleman in white robes, holding a pipa, stood under the moonlight like glazed porcelain, ethereal and aloof.
As his fingers danced across the pipa strings, a woman in red glided forward with delicate steps, moving like drifting clouds, each step as graceful as a lotus blooming.
The pipa’s melody seemed to weep and lament, telling tales of joy and sorrow. Under the moonlight, the beauty swayed her slender waist, dancing with ethereal grace. Her eyes sparkled with emotion; when the music soared, she appeared both playful and smiling, and when it softened, the sorrow on her face tugged at the heartstrings.
It wasn’t until a crisp round of applause broke the silence that the audience snapped out of their trance, joining in with praise and admiration.
As the lights returned to normal, everyone realized that the peerlessly beautiful dancer who had captivated them was none other than the Empress they had earlier praised.
Jiang Wan glanced subtly at the figure in red who had led the applause and smiled gracefully.
Huan Cheng stared, mesmerized, unable to tear his gaze away. He nearly lost his composure, his heart racing wildly, his voice inexplicably low and husky. “The Empress is truly a peerless beauty.”
“Is that musician perhaps the one known as the First Gentleman, Guanchu?”
“The First Gentleman? He’s even more beautiful than a woman.”
“The pipa performance was truly divine, paired with Her Majesty’s dance—an exquisite combination rarely witnessed in this mortal world.”
Guanchu lowered his gaze, still as a painting.
Amidst the flattery, Jiang Wan was about to withdraw when a careless, mocking voice suddenly chimed in from the side. “Chancellor Jiang has certainly taught his daughter well, allowing Her Majesty, the mother of the nation, to mingle with lowly musicians, singing and dancing together.”
Jiang Wan looked over and met those peach-blossom eyes.
Cheng Ling, the nominal young general of the Cheng family—a man Xie Changlin favored greatly. In the military, he was constantly at odds with her second brother. When not occupied with official duties, he was nothing but a frivolous playboy who indulged in wine and pleasure.
Jiang Wenshan snorted coldly, casting a glance at the man, his disdain unconcealed. He retorted arrogantly, “Her Majesty may dance as she pleases. Shut your dog mouth.”
Cheng Ling remained unperturbed, smiling brightly at Jiang Wan. “Chancellor Jiang, no need for anger. I was praising Her Majesty. Just moments ago, Her Majesty commended Consort Ning for her grace and elegance, but in my eyes, she doesn’t hold a candle to Her Majesty.”
Jiang Wan’s lips curled slightly. “Many wish to flatter this palace. Young General Cheng, you may step back for now.”
With that, she bowed to Jiang Wenshan and withdrew, leading Guanchu away.
Guanchu followed beside her, his fair cheeks tinged with a faint blush. Softly, he said, “Guanchu always believed that red suits Your Majesty better than green.”
Initially, Jiang Wan had chosen green attire to play the supporting role, but Guanchu had insisted she be the flower. Fortunately, she hadn’t embarrassed herself.
The red gown accentuated Jiang Wan’s vivid beauty—her skin like polished jade, her gentle smile brimming with charm.
Guanchu lowered his head, not daring to look further, and merely pressed his lips together.
“By the way, this palace asked you last time—who taught you? Guanchu has yet to answer.”
Guanchu was taken aback, lifting his head slightly and glancing toward the hall. “Guanchu began learning the pipa at seven. My master only taught me for that one year in my childhood.”
“Oh? So you taught yourself afterward?”
He chuckled lightly, a hint of pride coloring his expression. “What I learned in that one year was enough.”
Jiang Wan nodded, having no time to inquire further, and hurried into the hall to change her attire.
As she emerged, she asked Qiaoqiao, “Is His Eminence still here?”
“He just left his seat.”
Remembering that Jiang Wenshan and Liu Ying were still present, Jiang Wan made a brief appearance. When the banquet concluded, she picked up a food box and inquired about Xie Changlin’s whereabouts.
In the plum garden again.
Jiang Wan felt an inexplicable shadow over that place. As she approached, she was startled by the sudden appearance of Rong Qing, jumping in fright and deepening that shadow.
“Your Majesty, the Lord of a Thousand Years is not receiving visitors.”
Jiang Wan patted her chest as if she hadn’t heard, gesturing for Qiaoqiao to bring the pastries. “Little Rongzi, you scared me half to death. Here, try the mooncakes I made myself. Happy Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Rong Qing was stunned, and as his eyes unconsciously reddened, he quickly lowered his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty…”
It was the first time anyone had smiled at him and wished him a happy Mid-Autumn Festival, treating him as an equal, an ordinary person.
And it was the little empress…
He was so moved that he didn’t even notice when Jiang Wan slipped inside, still wiping his tears as he accepted the mooncake from Qiaoqiao and took a bite. “What virtue have I in this life to taste a mooncake made by Your Majesty?”
Qiaoqiao couldn’t help but laugh. “Eunuch Rongqing, why are you crying?”
Jiang Wan tiptoed inside like a cat and noticed another figure beside Xie Changlin, dressed in snow-white robes.
The two stood one behind the other, as if they hadn’t exchanged a word. After a moment, the figure spoke. “Your Eminence, what should Guanchu do from now on?”
Guanchu?!
Though startled, Jiang Wan did not forget to desperately lower her presence.
The red robe shifted slightly as Xie Changlin’s indifferent voice came through, “Your Majesty.”
Jiang Wan peeked her head out, seeing him still standing there motionless, and couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. She walked over, “How did Your Eminence notice me so quickly?”
Noticing Guanchu was stunned, she teased, “So Guanchu is Your Eminence’s man.”
Guanchu’s expression changed, frowning uneasily as he looked at Xie Changlin.
Xie Changlin ignored him, his gaze sweeping over Jiang Wan before he walked out first.
The two figures soon disappeared into the distance.
Guanchu stood where he was, lifting his head to gaze at the bright moon.
After a long while, he lowered his eyelids and gently curved his lips.
Your Majesty—
Guanchu’s master is Xie Changlin.