Little Sister declared, “Watch me!” She rushed into the adjacent room, with Song Sitian close behind. I could only watch as they bombarded the girl with praise about Big Brother. By the time I pulled them away, her face had turned pale, clearly frightened.
The result was predictable. The girl politely suggested that she didn’t think Big Brother was suitable.
Big Brother was taken home by Little Sister and Song Sitian for matchmaking education, while I remained in the private room to settle the bill.
Big Brother was a good man: kind, upright, filial, and a remarkable cook. Unfortunately, in Yan Feng City, these qualities pale in comparison to looks, wit, talent, or an impressive position. In this vain crowd, Big Brother would probably never find his destined partner.
Perhaps I was wrong to arrange matches for him; does such a woman even exist?
The waiter informed me my bill had been settled. I assumed it was An Jin coming to take me home and felt slightly excited. However, a man in a vermilion robe and feathered crown entered behind the waiter—it was East Palace’s Xia Zhiyuan.
I hurriedly bowed, but he stopped me with his fan. “No need for formalities, Madam An.”
The current Emperor was in his prime, with a full harem and sixteen children. However, due to weak yang energy in Qi State, only three of these children were male: the legitimate eldest prince Xia Zhiyuan, the third prince Xia Zhichun born to a concubine, and the infant sixteenth prince Xia Zhili.
I had a past with the third prince Xia Zhichun, who once shared stories about life in the palace.
Although both princes were worlds apart, Xia Zhichun, whose mother was a palace maid, was marginalized in the palace. He hoped that upon coming of age and being granted a fiefdom, he could escape the palace’s contempt. Unexpectedly, he was sent to Xiliang as a hostage during a peace negotiation.
The Qi Kingdom values beauty, resulting in royal children often being quite attractive. Among them, the East Palace’s Xia Zhiyuan stood out, with a slightly feminine beauty that was striking. In contrast, Xia Zhichun, known for his calm demeanor, was less remarkable in appearance.
Sympathizing with Xia Zhichun, I found myself resenting the East Palace’s Xia Zhiyuan, who enjoyed both extraordinary beauty and high honor.
Xia Zhiyuan sat across from me, smiling radiantly. “It’s rare to meet again, my lady. Truly a matter of fate.”
I steadied myself and asked, “Your Highness, what important matter have you summoned me for?”
“It’s like this,” Xia Zhiyuan said, opening his fan. “I heard that my lady is concerned about her brother’s marriage prospects, so I came to see if I can assist.”
Was the East Palace merely bored or was my brother’s marriage becoming a matter of significant interest? I looked at him suspiciously and smiled wryly: “Your Highness’s concern for the people is truly admirable.”
He seemed to notice my doubts and waved his hand. “Please do not be suspicious, my lady. I have a request and came to meet you. If you agree, I will help resolve your concerns.”
“If Your Highness has a request, I will do my best,” I said politely, though my heart raced. He wanted something from me but chose this teahouse, avoiding An Manor and An Jin, suggesting a desire for secrecy. What could be so confidential that not even An Jin could know?
Her posture was straight, and her words were emotionless, revealing a cold demeanor. An Jin instructed me to wait until he returned.
When An Jin was called away by his mother-in-law, I pulled Que’er aside and interrogated her. She maintained that she had found An Jin at the Ministry of Personnel’s office and accompanied him home, insisting there was no romantic involvement with another woman.
I examined her closely, and she expressed great anger at my doubts. According to her, An Jin had rushed back early upon hearing I had been away for a long time, and I was being unfairly suspicious of his sincere intentions.
The atmosphere in the house that day was strange. His mother and An Jin had been talking in the room and hadn’t eaten dinner. It wasn’t until the lamps were lit that An Jin returned, looking slightly tired.
He sensed my hesitation and took the initiative to explain. It was related to the Eastern Palace. An Jin had previously fallen out with them over a romantic entanglement. Concerned they might harm me, and having recently offended the Seventh Princess, he had Que’er monitor my movements closely. Today, when the Eastern Palace was at the Spring Wind Tea House, Que’er ran to notify him, and they rushed towards the tea house but encountered some obstruction. Regarding the lipstick marks on his collar, he merely mentioned a woman among those obstructing them, implying a beauty trap was involved.
When they arrived at the tea house, both I and the Eastern Palace had already left. They returned home and fortunately found that I had safely returned.
With this explanation, I felt enlightened.
No wonder An Jin had suddenly appeared when I was dining with Miss Song San—it was likely because the Eastern Palace was also in that restaurant.
An Jin asked about my meeting with the Eastern Palace, and I simply said we chatted briefly. He didn’t believe me but didn’t press further, instructing me to be extra careful in the future. However, I couldn’t understand how the future emperor could engage in transferring hatred and using his enemy’s wife for revenge.
An Jin scoffed, “Knowing someone’s face doesn’t mean knowing their heart. Just because he’s the future emperor doesn’t mean he can’t be unscrupulous.”
Although I couldn’t refute him, I felt something was off. If the Eastern Palace wanted revenge, he had ample opportunity—why go to such lengths to obstruct An Jin and create chance encounters just to talk to me and have me paint a portrait of his dancing girl? I had already promised to paint for the Eastern Palace. If I broke my word, he would likely reveal my identity as the Lantern Festival’s Thirteenth Young Master to An Jin, which would strike deeply and provoke retaliation. If An Jin found out I had stolen his painting… we had worked hard to restore our harmonious relationship…
An Jin, who believed in communicating through physical intimacy rather than words, resolved our misunderstanding with a passionate “heart-to-heart” after he locked the Lantern Festival outside.
Afterward, we whispered in bed while the Lantern Festival mournfully howled outside, attracting wild cats and dogs. I imagined its language translating to: My master is busy, leaving me locked outside.
He climbed onto the bed, hugged me, and said he was hungry. I remembered he hadn’t eaten dinner, so I proposed making him noodles. He declined, worried I might freeze in the cold, and requested another “heart-to-heart” to alleviate his hunger.
Finally, he settled down, hugging me from behind and singing a lullaby to coax me to sleep. Yuan Xiang outside happily hummed along. I found the melody familiar and quickly fell asleep, holding his arm in a daze.
In a half-dream, half-awake state, I heard him whispering in my ear.
“…I can do anything… Don’t blame me… Okay…”
I smacked my lips and bit his finger. “Won’t blame you… Go to sleep, be good.”
Chapter Twelve: The Eastern Palace’s Infatuation
The Eastern Palace’s efficiency was extraordinary. After a few days, the daughter of the Libretto Official approached me, expressing her willingness to meet my elder brother. Her expression resembled that of a martyr, likely having received “attention” from the Eastern Palace Lord. While I felt some sympathy for her sacrifice, my elder brother remained unaware of the underlying motives and had a favorable impression of the girl. After weighing my options, I decided to let them interact, hoping she might discover his good qualities.
