Drifting clouds veiled the sun, and shadows thickened across the sky.
The carriage bore the crimson seal of *Cen*. Ah Yan leaped down from his tall horse, lifted the curtain, and entered. Inside, Cen Hejue reclined lightly against a pear‑wood chair, his back still straight as a blade. With his refined waist and noble bearing, he looked every inch a jade‑like figure. Eyes lowered to his book, he was so striking it seemed a painted scene come alive.
Ah Yan had been taken in by the old General Cen and raised alongside Cen Hejue. Though long accustomed to his master’s face, he was still sometimes startled by its brilliance. The Eighth Princess was pretty too, but her mind was not sharp—hardly a match for his lord.
“How goes it?” Cen Hejue’s voice broke the silence.
Ah Yan answered, “I investigated. The Eighth Princess has behaved no differently of late. No suspicious figures around her. Perhaps, my lord, you are overthinking.”
Cen Hejue had never believed in spirits. The martial world had masters of disguise, so he instinctively suspected the woman identical to Qin Fei was merely a counterfeit. Yet in all his years, he had never seen a disguise so flawless. No false face could rival Qin Fei’s—hers was too real. Could such uncanny things truly exist in this world?
“My lord, we’ve reached the Chancellor’s estate. The Gu family matriarch’s birthday feast has little to do with us—why attend?” Ah Yan muttered. “Gu Chancellor is weak and useless; you’ve always despised him. And isn’t Song Jinglan secretly entangled with Miss Gu? You are betrothed to the Eighth Princess… it’s all too messy.”
Cen Hejue’s gaze turned icy. “Song Jinglan and Gu Nian are beneath notice. Must you prattle?”
If they were beneath notice… what of the Eighth Princess? Ah Yan dared not ask further. He lifted the curtain. “We’re here, my lord.”
“Today the Qi family will also attend,” Cen Hejue remarked, eyes on the Chancellor’s plaque. “Stay alert, watch closely—”
His words were cut short. From the corner of his eye, he caught a furtive, familiar figure.
“Qin Fei.”
Ah Yan froze at the name. “Weren’t we speaking of the Qi family? Do you mean for me to watch the Eighth Princess as well?”
Cen Hejue recovered. “I told you no such thing. The Pang and Tan clans have been scheming—warn Qi Siluo to be cautious.”
“Yes, my lord,” Ah Yan bowed. “I’ll inform the heir at once.”
That day, the Gu family’s banquet drew many dignitaries. Qin Fei sent her gift to the gate, then slipped away toward the Qin family kitchens.
Qin Xiu planned to drug Gu Nian. She would never act openly; the only way was through food. Qin Fei guessed she would tamper in the kitchen.
She ordered her maid Er‑Ya to lure the staff out, then vaulted onto the rafters. Her martial skill was sharp; in a blink, she crouched above, hidden.
Sure enough, before long, Ah Bi crept in, glancing about before pulling a paper packet from her sleeve.
Qin Fei watched intently. Ah Bi chose the first of the tea cups, smeared cinnabar at the base, then poured in the powder. When finished, she smirked in satisfaction.
Qin Fei thought darkly: *A petty villain’s triumph.*
Once Ah Bi left, Qin Fei dropped down, went straight to the first cup, and lifted it. At the bottom—yes, a smear of cinnabar. She peered inside. The green tea was clouded with white froth and strange floating threads.
“…”
Qin Fei murmured, “At least stir it a little.” She used her hairpin to swirl the liquid in the cup until no trace of tampering could be seen. Then she dipped the cinnabar from the tainted cup’s base and smeared it onto another clean tea cup. Finally, on the rim of the drugged cup—just beneath the curve—she brushed a faint trace of her own lip rouge.
The rim bent inward at that spot; unless one lowered their head to scrutinize closely, nothing seemed amiss. Her work was half done. She restored the cups to their original places, slipped out the back window, and headed straight for the flower hall.
Today, men and women are not seated separately. Most of the unmarried young ladies, shy of mingling with men, had gathered together in the hall, laughing and chatting.
Where women gather, gossip is never scarce.
From afar, Qin Fei spotted a girl who resembled Gu Nian by three parts, mocking her with sharp words.
“Elder Sister, why have you left your courtyard today? I thought you disliked Grandmother. Surely you wouldn’t attend her birthday feast.”
Gu Nian sat quietly, enduring. “I do not dislike Grandmother. Wang’er, you should not speak such idle words, lest she hear and be displeased.”
Gu Wang liked to curry favor with Qin Xiu, knowing she despised her elder sister. So she deliberately brought up: “I heard yesterday you broke the Third Princess’s bracelet in the palace. That was a coming‑of‑age gift from Consort Zheng. Sister, you truly don’t know your place.”
Gu Nian frowned. “Wang’er, you were not present. You don’t know—I did not break the bracelet. It was… a misunderstanding.”
She dared not expose Qin Xiu’s scheme. Yesterday, Qin Xiu’s heart ailment flared, and the matter was dropped. Yet today her illness seemed miraculously cured, and she came to the banquet. What kind of obedient heart ailment was this?
“A misunderstanding? I say you were jealous that the Third Princess had her mother’s favor. Your own mother died long ago.” Gu Wang sneered.
Gu Nian clenched her fists, her eyes reddening.
From her high seat, Qin Xiu clearly heard the sisters’ exchange but deliberately left the truth unspoken. Instead, she smiled, “Second Miss Gu, you are quick‑witted and clever. This hairpin shall be yours.” She removed the golden hairpin from her hair and handed it to Ah Bi, who passed it to Gu Wang.
Gu Wang dropped to her knees in thanks, fawning and obsequious. The crowd found it ironic, yet understood: Qin Xiu was openly showing her dislike of Gu Nian. The noble girls, all seasoned in household politics, quickly turned to flatter Gu Wang.
“Quick‑witted and clever—those are not words for people, are they?”
Their eyes turned as another young woman entered the hall. She wore a pale‑pink robe patterned with pear blossoms, her willow waist slender, her figure graceful and radiant. Though her dress was simple and her makeup light, she outshone every jeweled beauty in the room.
“Only birds and cats can be called nimble and clever. To liken Second Miss Gu to a pet—how can she be proud of that?”
Qin Xiu saw the face that had haunted her nightmares these past days. She nearly cursed aloud. Why was this ill‑omened star everywhere she turned!
The original Qin Fei had always been aloof, disdaining to mingle with the capital’s noble girls. So few here recognized her.
Soon, a girl in a jade‑green gown demanded, “Who are you? Do you know who sits upon the dais?”
The girl in the purple gauze beside the green‑clad one added, “This young lady mustn’t think that a bit of beauty allows her to ignore others. To see our Third Princess and not bow—how insolent.”
Qin Fei laughed outright, pointing at Qin Xiu seated high above, her expression already cracking. “I can bow to her—but she must return the courtesy.”
Qin Fei and Qin Xiu were of equal rank; naturally, there was no rule that one must bow to the other.
Gu Wang, freshly rewarded, rushed to defend Qin Xiu: “Who is your father? How could the Gu family invite someone so arrogant to our gates?”
“My father?”
Since entering this story, Qin Fei had never felt so proud of her identity. “My surname is Qin, given name Fei. Guess who my father is?”
The Qin name was imperial, but countless bore it beyond the royal clan.
At her words, the hall fell silent, faces stiff with shock. The green and purple gauze girls blanched. Only Gu Wang remained clueless. “Qin Fei? Which *Fei*?”
“*Fei* as in *bandit*,” Qin Fei replied coolly.
Gu Wang assumed it was some obscure family. “Never heard of you, you—”
“Gu Wang, enough!” Gu Nian shot to her feet, hurrying to Qin Fei. “Eighth Princess, it was my foolish younger sister who misspoke. Please do not take offense.”
At the title *Eighth Princess*, Gu Wang froze, breathless with shock.
The noble girls scrambled to rise and bow.
“Second Miss Gu, you are quite brazen.” Qin Fei, delighted with her domineering persona, strode boldly to Qin Xiu, dropped herself into the seat before her, crossed one leg over the other, and eyed Gu Wang. “I don’t dare bully my own elder sister, yet you dare bully yours? Do you understand hierarchy?” She draped one hand over the back of Qin Xiu’s chair, looking every inch the bandit.
Gu Wang trembled, recalling Qin Fei’s notorious reputation, and quickly begged forgiveness: “I was blind and foolish. Please, Your Highness, do not punish me.”
Qin Xiu drew a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Eighth Sister, why be so aggressive?”
“I am simply too kind‑hearted to stomach lies. If someone would speak the truth, why would I press so hard?” Qin Fei arched a brow. “Yesterday I was also in Mingxin Hall. Tell me again—was it truly Gu Nian who broke your bracelet?”
Qin Xiu clenched her teeth. Yesterday, she had feigned illness before the Emperor, who pitied her and said nothing. She had not expected Qin Fei to drag the matter up again today.
“Yesterday, of course, Miss Gu did not break my bracelet. It was all a misunderstanding.” Qin Xiu could do nothing against this unruly princess. With greater schemes at stake today, she had no choice but to yield.
Qin Fei smiled at the crowd. “I admire Gu Nian. If any of you have complaints against her, you may bring them to me.” Then she spread her hands, changing her tone of address. “This palace is at your service.”
The noble girls, long aware of Qin Fei’s infamous temper, bobbed their heads like rattles, none daring to oppose her.
Gu Nian’s expression faltered; she stared at Qin Fei for a long moment before turning away to secretly wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Miss Gu, we’ve all been sitting here for quite some time—why has no tea been served?” Qin Xiu’s smile was graceful, but her tone carried intent.
Gu Nian had remained in the flower hall, waiting for Qin Xiu’s word. Now, with the cue given, she could only order the servants to bring tea.
Qin Fei lounged lazily, propping her head on one hand, looking half‑asleep.
Qin Xiu noticed, and the corners of her lips curled upward. Her grand plan was about to succeed—how could she not be pleased?
“Third Sister, has anyone ever told you that your smile is rather ugly?” The drowsy Qin Fei suddenly opened her eyes, staring straight at Qin Xiu.
Qin Xiu’s face stiffened. “Eighth Sister, must you even criticize my smile?”
“Too ugly,” Qin Fei yawned. “It hurts my eyes.”
Qin Xiu clenched her sleeves in secret. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the servants bring in tea. Ah Bi gave her a signal, and Qin Xiu rose, personally handing the first cup to Gu Nian.
“It was my fault earlier, for not clarifying matters in time. Please accept this tea as my apology.”
Gu Nian accepted, glancing at Qin Fei, who looked bored and uninterested.
Qin Xiu checked her fingers—yes, a smear of rouge remained. Relief washed over her.
“Your Highness, please take tea.” Ah Bi presented Qin Xiu’s own cup.
Qin Xiu accepted, but her eyes stayed fixed on Gu Nian until she sipped. Only then did Qin Xiu smile in satisfaction.
“I want Sister’s cup,” Qin Fei suddenly spoke.
Qin Xiu assumed she was being willful again. Since Gu Nian had already drunk, she could afford to be magnanimous. “If you wish, you may have two cups.”
Qin Fei rolled her eyes inwardly, but outwardly remained calm. She slid the cup rim marked with her lip rouge toward Qin Xiu. She had tracked the sequence carefully, even having Er‑Ya intercept others from touching that cup.
Qin Fei lifted her own tea and sipped, when suddenly Qin Xiu shot to her feet. “Perceptor, you’ve come.”
At that title, Qin Fei nearly spat out her tea.
Cen Hejue entered the hall, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before settling on the woman beside Qin Xiu.
“Perceptor, it was my mistake,” Ah Yan stammered, realizing he had led them to the wrong hall.
Cen Hejue’s cold glance silenced him.
As the guests rose to bow, Cen Hejue turned to leave. But Qin Xiu, recalling Consort Zheng’s instructions, called out, “Perceptor, wait.”
Qin Fei blinked as Qin Xiu lifted her own cup and offered it to Cen Hejue. “Yesterday I erred. My mother and father have already scolded me. Please do not hold what happened in Mingxin Hall against me.”
Most knew of Qin Fei’s betrothal to Cen Hejue. Yet rumors of Qin Xiu’s supposed romance with him were even more widespread. Now, with both sisters present, all eyes brimmed with gossip.
A battlefield of love—right before them.
“Please, Perceptor, drink this tea.” Qin Xiu’s brows furrowed, her pitiful look designed to stir sympathy.
But Cen Hejue despised such affectation. He had no intention of accepting—until he caught Qin Fei frantically winking at him. Ah yes. He had nearly forgotten how much Qin Fei disliked her sister.
Suddenly, Cen Hejue felt inclined to make trouble for her.
Qin Fei watched in horror as he raised the cup, tilted his chin, and drained it completely.
Finished.
Utterly finished.
The cup of drugged, bewitching potion had gone straight into Cen Hejue’s stomach.
No way! Was he really that greedy?