Pei Tingyue felt her ears grow warm under his gaze and defended herself, “There’s a reason for my eagerness!”
Xie Chen raised an eyebrow, quietly waiting for her explanation.
Pei Tingyue released the jade belt and gently brushed it downward. “Your Majesty looks exceptionally dashing wearing the sachet I made!”
Xie Chen chuckled softly, “How dashing? Do elaborate, Tingyue.”
Pei Tingyue extricated herself from his embrace, taking two or three steps back to observe the noble young man sitting upright before her.
He wore a moon-white brocade robe with intricate silver-threaded patterns embroidered along the cuffs and collar, exuding an indescribable elegance and grace.
The jade belt at his waist and the silver-white sachet hanging from it further accentuated his noble aura.
Paired with his refined and handsome face, the overall effect was truly striking.
So striking that it made her want to whistle in admiration.
Pei Tingyue frowned as she searched for the right words, only to dismiss them one by one. Finally, she said with frustration, “I can’t find the words to describe it.”
A few simple words were utterly inadequate to capture the breathtaking impact of seeing him.
Xie Chen rose leisurely and walked toward her. “It won’t do if you can’t describe it, Tingyue.”
Pei Tingyue’s eyebrows twitched, not understanding his intention. “What does Your Majesty mean…”
The next moment, she understood exactly what he meant.
After a dizzying spin, she found herself lifted by the waist and carried toward the bedchamber.
He was using this as her punishment.
Bedchamber.
The rustling sounds of undressing grew even more suggestive in the dim candlelight.
The gold brocade curtains were slowly drawn, followed by faint, fragmented moans emerging from within.
After a long while, a pale, delicate arm reached out as if trying to escape, only to be ruthlessly pulled back in the blink of an eye.
Inside the curtains, Xie Chen smiled faintly as he watched the woman shaking her head helplessly and weeping silently. “I’m not satisfied yet, Tingyue. Why have you stopped describing?”
Pei Tingyue’s entire body flushed crimson, unable to utter another word. She could only gaze at him with tearful, pleading eyes.
Xie Chen’s voice grew even gentler as his fingertips brushed her sweat-dampened cheek. “How pitiful. I can hardly bear it.”
Though his words were comforting, his actions told a different story.
Pei Tingyue could only surrender to the pleasure once more, allowing him to carry her to the peak again and again.
Suddenly, the jade bracelets on her wrists clinked together with a clear, crisp sound during a particularly intense movement.
Hearing this, Xie Chen turned his head and glanced at the pale wrists wrapped around his neck, chuckling softly.
“Something is speaking for you, Tingyue.”
In the quiet snowy night, the sound of jade bracelets clashing was especially distinct.
It was only in the late hours of the night that the sounds finally ceased.
After a quick wash, Xie Chen tucked Pei Tingyue into the blankets and said gently, “It’s late, Tingyue. Rest early.”
Pei Tingyue noticed him sitting up and asked in confusion, “Where is Your Majesty going?”
Xie Chen threw off the brocade quilt and stood up, calling for attendants to help him dress. “There are still memorials to review. Sleep first. I’ll return after I finish.”
Pei Tingyue was astonished.
After such a night, she was completely exhausted, yet he could still go about handling state affairs with such energy. His stamina was truly terrifying!
Watching him leave, Pei Tingyue closed her eyes and soon drifted into a hazy sleep.
She slept soundly and peacefully, completely unaware of the commotion she had stirred outside.
Her exclusive promotion and two consecutive nights of the Emperor staying with her had caught the attention of all the consorts in the Imperial Harem.
That night, countless people lay awake.
The next day.
When Pei Tingyue awoke, her legs still trembled faintly. Leaning on Yun Shu for support, she arrived at Fenghua Palace on time.
When she arrived, all the consorts in the hall turned to look at her, only to avert their gazes moments later.
Pei Tingyue took her usual seat and discreetly lifted her eyes to observe the assembled consorts.
On the elevated platform, the phoenix throne stood empty—the Empress had yet to arrive.
Two rows of rosewood chairs lined the hall, yet the two foremost seats remained unoccupied.
Noble Consort Song, perpetually confined by illness, accounted for one vacant seat. The other belonged to Consort Liang (Shen), who had secluded herself for recuperation ever since her miscarriage.
Pei Tingyue’s gaze drifted downward, settling on the second chair to the right, where Consort Xian (Xie) sat in silence, her face etched with its perennial aloofness.
After the first morning greetings, Pei Tingyue had been deeply puzzled.
Although the four consorts—Xian, Liang, Shu, and De—all held the same second-rank status, there was an internal hierarchy among them: Consort Xian ranked highest, while Consort De stood at the bottom.
By convention, Consort Xian (Xie) should have occupied the foremost seat on the left. Why, then, did she sit in this position?
Upon inquiry, Pei Tingyue learned that Consort Liang (Shen) had previously been pregnant and promoted to Noble Consort, with all corresponding privileges elevated—only the formal investiture ceremony remained.
Unfortunately, the incident occurred, and the ceremony never took place.
Yet the Emperor had never revoked the decree, leaving his intentions unclear, and so Consort Xian had no choice but to retain her current seating.
Finding no further clues there, Pei Tingyue subtly shifted her attention to the seat opposite Consort Xian.
There sat a palace consort clad in a goose-yellow gown embroidered with a hundred flowers. Her features were delicate and exquisitely gentle, evoking the warmth of a spring breeze that naturally endeared her to others.
This was none other than Consort Shu (Jiang), one of the four principal consorts.
Perhaps sensing Pei Tingyue’s gaze, she tilted her head slightly, meeting Pei Tingyue’s eyes, and responded with a gracious smile.
Pei Tingyue nodded in return.
Looking further back, she saw several former attendants from the Eastern Palace, led by Lin Zhaorong, conversing in small groups—their words too faint to discern.
No doubt, they were gossiping about her.
Pei Tingyue sighed inwardly and continued scanning the rear.
Behind the Eastern Palace cohort sat the consorts who had entered the palace in the third year of Xining—four in total, including herself—firmly anchored at the very end.
Initially, all had entered as seventh-rank Baolin. Except for Pei Tingyue, who had been promoted to Cairen yesterday, the others remained Baolin.
Now, those three cast furtive glances her way, their eyes betraying unmistakable envy and resentment.
Having surveyed the hall, Pei Tingyue felt quite satisfied.
Even with her promotion to Cairen yesterday, without Lin Zhaorong leading the charge, the other consorts dared not openly taunt her—at most, there were only veiled remarks and subtle gestures.
A vast improvement over the past.
She no longer had to confront others daily or feign weakness to seek the Empress’s protection.
In high spirits, Pei Tingyue picked up a pastry from the table and began to eat.
The pastries in the Empress’s palace were truly exceptional—richly fragrant, soft, and melting in the mouth, far superior to those in her own quarters.
Since the Empress hadn’t arrived, she intended to indulge a little more.
Watching her enjoy the treat, Bao Lin Yan, seated behind Pei Tingyue, shot her a furious glare, stewing in pent-up frustration.
Among the consorts who entered the palace last year, two had secured their positions through family influence, while she and Pei Tingyue had been selected solely for their beauty.
Upon first entering the palace, she had believed her looks would surely win the Emperor’s favor.
Yet, apart from a single routine summons, she had never been chosen to serve again.
Nor had any other consort been summoned.
For reasons unknown, after summoning the new consorts, the Emperor had refrained from entering the Imperial Harem for over half a year.
It wasn’t until the beginning of this spring that he gradually began summoning consorts to attend him.
First the Empress, then several high-ranking Pinfei, proceeding according to rank one by one.
She secretly rejoiced, thinking it would eventually be her turn. When that time came, she would display her beauty and firmly capture the emperor’s heart.
But who could have known that after summoning the high-ranking Pinfei, the emperor suddenly skipped over several people and directly favored Pei Tingyue.
Moreover, he didn’t summon anyone else afterward. For the past month, she alone had been serving him.
How could this not provoke jealousy and resentment?
Bao Lin Yan only felt bitterness rising in her mouth. She had prepared many phrases to condemn Pei Tingyue, waiting only for Lin Zhaorong to start the conversation.
But after waiting and waiting, Lin Zhaorong remained silent.
She wondered, what was wrong with Lin Zhaorong?
Usually, she was the most capable of making cutting remarks about Pei Tingyue. Why was she so quiet today?
As time slowly passed, Bao Lin Yan grew increasingly anxious, her gaze fixed on Lin Zhaorong.
Not only her, but most of the consorts frequently cast glances toward Lin Zhaorong.
Among them, a consort friendly with Lin Zhaorong lightly coughed once as a reminder.
Following this light cough, Lin Zhaorong finally moved. She picked up the Ru kiln teacup, leisurely took a sip, and praised, “This tea is quite good.”