Yun Qingyi had no idea that ever since she returned to her seat, a certain pair of eyes had never left her.
The Marquis of Zhenyuan accepted the flower pastry she had given him, and the corners of his lips unconsciously curved upward.
This girl was interesting.
At first glance, she appeared gentle and mild-tempered. Yet if someone truly angered her, she didn’t hesitate to settle the score immediately.
Direct. Decisive.
He liked that.
A breeze drifted through the banquet grounds, fluttering Yun Qingyi’s sleeve and lifting the corner of her handkerchief.
Embroidered in one corner was a single character:
Xuan (嫙).
The Marquis froze.
Could it be her?
Her personality didn’t seem the same.
Yet part of him desperately hoped it was.
And if he wanted an answer—
He would find it himself.
He returned briefly to change clothes.
When he emerged again, he wore formal robes with a ceremonial crown and flowing sash, appearing far more dignified than before.
Back when his cousin, the Fifth Prince, proposed hosting this banquet in his honor, he had been completely uninterested.
To him, such gatherings were nothing more than tedious exchanges of flattery among nobles.
All he wanted was to be a loyal minister.
To command armies.
To defend the nation.
Nothing more.
But was he truly without personal desires?
Even he couldn’t answer that question honestly.
When he was seven years old, his aunt entered the palace and became Beauty Xian.
Back then, he wasn’t the Marquis of Zhenyuan.
He was merely a penniless boy named Mo Yuxuan.
Three years later, during the Lantern Festival, the Emperor permitted family members of the imperial consorts to enter the palace for visits.
He accompanied his mother on his first trip to the imperial palace.
Despite being cautious in every possible way, he still noticed countless looks of disdain directed at them.
When the visit ended, every family received an imperial reward.
Among the gifts was a box of pastries.
Even from the exquisite packaging alone, young Mo Yuxuan knew they were something precious.
He originally intended to bring them home to share with his family.
But curiosity got the better of him.
The moment he opened the box to peek inside—
A young noble girl crashed into him.
The pastries scattered across the ground.
“Where did this little wild brat come from?”
The girl appeared no older than seven or eight years old, yet her bearing rivaled that of a seasoned noblewoman.
“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”
“You’re lucky you didn’t dirty my clothes.”
“Otherwise, how would you compensate me?”
His aunt held the lowest rank in the palace.
Neither he nor his mother dared create trouble for her.
So they immediately knelt.
Mother and son repeatedly kowtowed, begging forgiveness.
Every strike of his forehead against the ground seemed to spell out one word:
Humiliation.
Eventually, the matter ended only because the girl chose not to pursue it further.
Though she herself had just suffered indignity, his mother ignored her own pain and focused on comforting her son.
“It’s only pastries.”
“If we can’t eat them this time, there will be another opportunity someday.”
Mother and son supported one another as they prepared to leave.
Then another little girl appeared.
“Big Brother, don’t be sad.”
She held out a box of pastries.
“You can have mine.”
Before he could respond, she dropped the box into his hands and ran away.
“Mother! Wait for me!”
After catching up to her mother, the little girl turned back.
Holding her mother’s hand, she flashed him a bright smile.
A pure, innocent smile.
Like a beam of sunlight piercing through darkness.
He still remembered it vividly.
The little girl wore a jade pendant.
Carved upon it was a single character.
Xuan (嫙).
That was the day he first entered the palace.
The day he learned what noble families were.
The day he learned what social hierarchy meant.
And the day he made a vow.
No one would ever look down on him again.
Two years later, after training relentlessly in martial arts, he enlisted in the army the moment he reached the minimum age.
Gradually, he accumulated military merit.
The Emperor frequently praised him before his aunt.
As his accomplishments grew, so did her rank.
When he crossed paths with noble families in the capital, people began calling him General Mo.
Later still, he became the War God of Tianqi.
A man feared by enemies and revered by his countrymen.
His aunt rose to become Imperial Noble Consort.
High officials addressed him as Marquis.
And the same noble ladies who once would have ignored him now sweetly called him:
“Brother Yuxuan.”
The more successful he became, the more contempt he felt toward those people.
He had military achievements.
He had influence through the imperial family.
Even though he never attended social gatherings, he remained the most desirable husband in the capital.
The gossip he overheard today was merely one example among countless similar conversations over the years.
He had long since grown numb to them.
In fact, the more obsessed noble ladies became with him, the more shallow and tiresome they appeared.
Five years earlier, the Emperor had attempted to arrange a marriage for him.
He had refused.
Not because he objected to a particular woman.
To him, they all seemed the same.
Marrying any one of them felt meaningless.
Naturally, he couldn’t openly reject the Emperor.
So he chose a grander excuse.
“The northern frontier remains unsettled.”
“How can I think of establishing a family?”
The statement left the Emperor speechless.
Even an Emperor who favored him greatly couldn’t resist complaining.
“Tianqi is my Tianqi.”
“If the northern frontier remains unsettled and therefore you cannot marry…”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
Faced with imperial irritation, Mo Yuxuan quickly retreated.
He led his troops back to the northern frontier and remained there until the recent campaign was successfully concluded.
Only then did he dare return to the capital.
A few days earlier, upon learning of his cousin’s return, the Fifth Prince received instructions from his mother.
“Your cousin is no longer young.”
“It is inappropriate for him to remain unmarried forever.”
“His temperament is far too carefree.”
“If this continues, it won’t end well.”
The Fifth Prince immediately understood.
He informed his mother that he would host a banquet.
As long as people attended, possibilities would arise.
Mo Yuxuan had spent years stationed at the frontier.
His parents remained in their fief.
Since returning to the capital, he had been staying at the Fifth Prince’s residence.
From the age of twelve onward, his life had revolved around military camps.
Campaigns.
Strategy.
Formation tactics.
As for social interactions—
He couldn’t compare to the seventeen-year-old Fifth Prince.
After all, the prince had spent his entire life navigating the dangerous currents of palace politics.
“You’re newly returned to the capital.”
The Fifth Prince had persuaded him patiently.
“You’ve been away for years. Many faces and relationships are unfamiliar.”
“It would be unreasonable to expect you to socialize immediately.”
The cousins eventually reached a compromise.
Mo Yuxuan could appear whenever he wished.
After all, the invitations had explicitly stated that this was an informal gathering.
Since the Fifth Prince had made no demands, Mo Yuxuan had no reason to refuse further.
The prince knew his cousin well.
This banquet was hosted entirely to satisfy his mother’s wishes.
Personally, he believed Mo Yuxuan was far too obsessed with military matters ever to find a wife voluntarily.
Eventually, the Emperor would probably have to arrange a marriage by decree.
Guests continued arriving.
As host, the Fifth Prince moved among them, greeting attendees.
When he finally reached the principal guest area, Mo Yuxuan joined him.
The cousins first completed their rounds among the older officials and male guests.
Then they proceeded to the women’s section.
The noble ladies who had long abandoned hope of seeing the famous Marquis in person instantly became reserved.
The laughter and excitement from earlier vanished completely.
The cousins offered toasts at each table.
Most of the young ladies became so nervous they could barely form coherent sentences.
“Congratulations, Marquis.”
“Everyone praises your achievements, but I only wish to ask…”
A young lady lowered her gaze shyly.
“Have these years been difficult for you?”
The question was clearly intended to be touching.
Mo Yuxuan felt nothing but impatience.
“A soldier does not fear death.”
“If death itself is not frightening, why should hardship be?”
The girl nearly choked on her own emotions.
Most conversations proceeded similarly.
Awkward.
Forced.
Painfully uninteresting.
Eventually, they reached the most secluded table.
Yun Qingyi’s table.
She lifted her wine cup.
Before she could say a single word, Mo Yuxuan spoke first.
“Lady Yun.”
“Long time no see.”
“I heard you were unwell a few days ago.”
“Have you fully recovered?”
The question struck like a thunderbolt.
And for the first time all day—
Yun Qingyi was completely speechless.