Day was just breaking.
Xie Lanyin sat before her dressing table, a face so pale it was almost translucent reflected in the bronze mirror. Her mother, Madam Lin, personally styled her hair, the ivory comb gently stroking through her waist-length locks, as if afraid of breaking something.
“Mother,” she suddenly spoke, her voice still a little hoarse, “Last night, Grandfather…”
Madam Lin’s hand paused, then continued to insert a plain silver hairpin inlaid with pearls into her bun, before she whispered, “Your grandfather only returned at midnight. His Majesty… bestowed a Jade Ruyi scepter to calm your nerves, and insists that you must attend today.”
She leaned closer, meeting her daughter’s gaze in the mirror, her eyes red-rimmed but forcing a smile.
“Yin’er, no matter what anyone says today, you only need to remember—you are the legitimate daughter of the Xie family, and you have done nothing wrong.”
Xie Lanyin clenched her fist within her sleeve.
She didn’t actually care much about this matter.
But…
Reflected in the mirror were her mother’s eyes, brimming with suppressed tears, a single, untimely white hair at her temple particularly glaring in the candlelight. She recalled her father’s anxious, lingering figure outside the Surveillance Department’s gates yesterday, and his careful, as if she were fragile porcelain, movements when he helped her.
She cared.
She cared about these parents who cherished her as a treasure, and about this family that had given “Xie Lanyin” all its love. She could disregard her own reputation, but she could not disregard the criticism, worry, and even potential misfortune they endured because of her.
“Your daughter understands.” Xie Lanyin raised her eyes, and facing her mother in the mirror, she gently nodded.
At three-quarters past chenshi, the carriage drove out of the Xie Residence’s main gate.
Inside the carriage, Xie Lanyin closed her eyes to rest, but her ears were filled with the clamor of the market. The sounds seeped through the gaps in the carriage curtains, as if everyone was discussing yesterday’s “romantic scandal” in the outskirts. She suddenly remembered in the original owner’s memories, the envious and jealous gazes of the noble ladies at last year’s Spring Banquet—back then, she was the most dazzling prospective bride in the capital, with top-tier family background, beauty, talent, and engagement.
And now?
The carriage stopped before the Palace Gate. Xie Lanyin opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and, supported by her maid Bai Zhi, alighted from the carriage.
The Spring Banquet was held in Shaoguang Pavilion, on the east side of the Imperial Garden. Walking along, the winding corridors and lush flora led to a path strewn with pink and white petals, as it was the season of full-blooming crabapples. Several families of female relatives were already ahead, adorned with pearls and jade, their laughter faintly audible.
Xie Lanyin walked slowly, her gaze straight ahead, yet she clearly sensed the sudden drop in conversation and the gazes from all directions—curious, scrutinizing, gloating, feigning pity. Those gazes felt like fine needles, pricking her upright spine.
“Isn’t that Sister Xie?” a sweet voice suddenly came from the side. It was Shen Jingshu, the legitimate granddaughter of Duke Chengen from the Empress Dowager’s maternal family, the Empress’s niece, the prospective First Prince’s Consort, and the undisputed candidate for future Empress.
As she spoke, several young women, surrounding a girl in a goose-yellow brocade dress with gold threads and butterflies, blocked the path. Shen Jingshu, who led them, was only fifteen or sixteen years old, bright and charmingly naive, but at this moment, she widened a pair of seemingly innocent large eyes and scrutinized Xie Lanyin. “Sister Xie, why is your complexion so pale today? Are you feeling unwell?”
A green-clad girl beside her covered her mouth and chuckled softly. “Sister Jingshu doesn’t know, Sister Xie went to Qingliang Temple to offer incense yesterday, and might have been startled on the way.”
“Startled?” Shen Jingshu blinked. “I heard that Sister Xie was abducted in the wilderness, is that true? Oh dear, that sounds truly terrifying, Sister, were you not hurt?”
Xie Lanyin slowly turned to face Shen Jingshu directly.
She was already taller than the other girl, and now, with her back straight and her gaze slightly lowered, she exuded a silent sense of oppression. There was no anger on her face, barely any expression at all; she merely watched Shen Jingshu silently until the feigned concern at the corner of the other girl’s mouth began to look somewhat unnatural.
“Thank you for your concern, Sister Shen.” Xie Lanyin spoke. “But perhaps Sister heard incorrectly. If I truly were abducted, with my life hanging by a thread, how could I be standing here perfectly fine today, attending this Imperial Spring Banquet?”
The smile on Shen Jingshu’s face froze, and her fingers clutching her handkerchief tightened.
Xie Lanyin’s clear gaze pierced into her eyes. “I merely wonder… Sister Shen, with such certainty, from whom did you ‘hear’ this? This is an important matter concerning a woman’s purity and even affecting the Imperial family’s prestige. To spread it casually without genuine proof, wouldn’t it be…” She paused at just the right moment, leaving endless unspoken implications, before softly uttering two words, “…unwise?”
Shen Jingshu’s gaze instinctively flickered for a moment. “I just heard others chatting idly, it shouldn’t be taken seriously, Sister, please don’t blame me…”
As she racked her brain for an excuse or another topic, a slightly hurried and sharp voice, with the unique cadence of the palace, suddenly came from a side path behind them:
“Miss Xie—”
Everyone turned around. It was Eunuch Huang, who served the Emperor. He was walking quickly, leading two young eunuchs. A smile was plastered on his face, but his eyes were shrewd and sharp, sweeping past the crowd to land directly on Xie Lanyin.
“Miss Xie,” he stopped before Xie Lanyin, bowing slightly. His voice was not loud but clear enough for everyone nearby to hear, “His Majesty has an oral decree, summoning you immediately to the West Inner Hall of Zichen Hall for an audience. Please, would you accompany this humble servant now?”
In that instant, the last trace of a smile on Shen Jingshu’s face completely froze, replaced by a look of bewildered uncertainty. The faint whispers around them also ceased abruptly.
The Emperor himself summoned her, at the very moment the Spring Banquet was about to begin?
All the scrutinizing, speculative, and gloating gazes now turned complexly towards Xie Lanyin.
Xie Lanyin’s heart clenched, but her expression remained unreadable. She nodded slightly to Eunuch Huang, her voice calm and steady: “Thank you, Eunuch, for leading the way.”
With that, she no longer looked at Shen Jingshu, and, turning with the eunuch, walked towards the deeper parts of the palace, away from Shaoguang Pavilion. She left behind a crowd of female relatives with varied expressions, and a sudden, suppressed, silent ripple of commotion.