The red plum blossoms were in full bloom as Shen Wei and Zhao Qing strolled beneath the flowering trees. After walking for a while, Shen Wei's delicate brows furrowed slightly, and she gently pressed a hand to her abdomen.
Cai Lian, who was accompanying her, quickly stepped forward to support her. "Mistress, are you feeling unwell?"
Shen Wei nodded weakly. "My stomach is a bit uncomfortable."
Only then did Zhao Qing notice the slight swell of Shen Wei's belly. Shen Wei wore thick winter garments, always draped in a fox-fur cloak when she went out, concealing her pregnancy from prying eyes.
"So the side consort is with child. Had I known earlier, I would have invited you inside for tea," Zhao Qing said politely.
Shen Wei smiled warmly in response. "I’m just a little tired. Now that the pearls have been delivered, and as it’s getting late, I shall return to Prince Yan's Mansion."
After bidding farewell to Zhao Qing, Shen Wei departed the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion.
Zhao Qing returned excitedly to her chambers, where a sandalwood box rested on her dressing table. She eagerly opened it, revealing a collection of lustrous pearls.
These precious pearls from the southern seas—if set into the bridal crown for her wedding—would surely outshine all others.
"A-Qing." A tender voice called from outside.
Shangguan Xuan, having finished his official duties, had come to visit Zhao Qing at the first opportunity. He pushed the door open familiarly, spotting her seated by the dressing table, along with the box of pearls.
Zhao Qing made no attempt to hide them, gesturing toward the pearls with a smile. "The side consort from Prince Yan's Mansion visited this afternoon and gifted me these."
Shangguan Xuan's lips curved knowingly, his tone laced with self-satisfaction. "This isn’t just a gift of pearls. She’s acting on Prince Yan’s behalf to win our marquis's favor."
At present, the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion was at the height of its influence, courted by both Prince Yan and Prince Heng. However, Prince Heng's sincerity carried more weight—ten thousand taels in silver notes were far more valuable than a box of pearls.
...
...
The winter chill had settled over the capital, and the streets grew quieter. Prince Yan's carriage moved steadily along the road as Shen Wei sipped hot broth to warm herself. "Have you uncovered the matter?" she asked Cai Ping.
Cai Ping nodded eagerly and relayed the details about the sheepskin manuscript hidden in the corner.
Shen Wei set down her bowl, murmuring to herself, "The Taihua Manuscript..."
So the modern weapon designs Zhao Qing had drawn all originated from this mysterious sheepskin book. The aged parchment was at least a century old—perhaps left behind by a time traveler from the past.
After a moment’s thought, Shen Wei instructed Cai Ping, "You have a sharp memory and deft hands. Tonight, retrieve an old piece of sheepskin from the storeroom and craft a replica of the book."
Cai Ping, ever diligent, nodded promptly. "Understood. This servant will see to it at once."
Upon returning to the Glazed Pavilion, Shen Wei rested briefly before summoning the maid sent by the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion.
The girl, named Little Yan, was only thirteen—small, dark-skinned, and thin, with bright, intelligent eyes. She was the spy Cai Ping had planted in the marquis's household.
Cai Ping had chosen well. Little Yan came from a destitute family; after her father’s death, she had been forced into servitude to pay for his burial. Cai Ping had provided the funds, securing the girl’s unwavering loyalty.
Little Yan was sharp-witted. The moment she entered the pavilion, she dropped to her knees before Shen Wei, kowtowing respectfully. "This servant Little Yan greets the mistress!"
Shen Wei studied her carefully, her hands warmed by a bronze hand stove. "You’re clever and capable. From now on, you’ll serve by Yao'er’s side. If you perform well, you may even rise to first-rank maid."
Little Yan kowtowed again, her voice earnest. "This servant thanks the mistress for her kindness. With no family left, it was only through the mistress’s aid that I could bury my father. From this day forward, I will devote myself wholeheartedly to the young mistress. I will never speak or act out of turn."
Shen Wei nodded in approval.
She preferred dealing with intelligent people—those who knew when to hold their tongues without needing reminders.
Cai Lian led Little Yan away to familiarize her with the mansion’s rules before assigning her to Li Yao’s service.
Winter nights fell swiftly, and as darkness enveloped the sky, a light snow began to fall.
Outside, the cold was biting, but indoors, warmth prevailed. As usual, Shen Wei sat before her dressing table, removing the hairpins from her dark tresses, letting them cascade over her shoulders.
The candlelight cast a soft glow, painting an exquisite portrait of beauty.
Prince Yan rather enjoyed watching Shen Wei unpin her hair. Stripped of gold, jade, and silver ornaments, she was like a lotus emerging from clear water—naturally enchanting, her charm impossible to define.
His gaze drifted to an empty spot on the dressing table. His memory was sharp, and he raised a brow. "Weiwei, where are the southern sea pearls I gifted you recently?"
He had never been the type to keep track of his consorts’ jewelry, but the longer he spent with Shen Wei, the more he noticed the little changes about her.
Shen Wei tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting mischievously as she moved to the soft divan beside Prince Yan, wrapping her arms around his firm forearm. Her tone was a mix of coquetry and reproach. "This consort gifted them to the Princess of Pingyang."
"Why her?" Prince Yan asked, puzzled.
With an earnest expression, Shen Wei explained, "Zhao Qing excels in weapon design. The composite bow blueprint she previously drafted was rough and unclear—Your Highness and the Ministry of Works’ craftsmen spent sleepless nights deciphering it. This consort thought that if I could foster goodwill with her, future designs might come with clearer instructions, sparing Your Highness the trouble of interpretation."
See how virtuous she was?
Hear how considerate she was of Prince Yan?
Was he pleased? Touched?
Today’s gift of pearls had served three purposes:
First, it allowed her to bring the spy Little Yan into the mansion, eliminating a potential leak.
Second, it uncovered the truth about the sheepskin manuscript.
Third, it aided Prince Yan’s efforts to win over the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion.
Naturally, Prince Yan was deeply moved.
With a sigh, he pulled Shen Wei into his embrace, breathing in the faint fragrance of her hair. A wave of tenderness and happiness washed over him.
His Weiwei—always thinking of him.
Still, as a woman, her grasp of the political landscape was incomplete. The South Garrison Marquis's Mansion’s glory would not last; it was merely a whetstone in the shifting tides of imperial power.
Patiently, Prince Yan explained, "There’s no need to court the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion. Such a minor household is beneath this prince’s notice."
Shen Wei looked up in surprise.
Amused by her innocent confusion, Prince Yan pinched the bridge of her nose and chuckled. "Ten South Garrison Marquises are not worth a single Shen Mieyue."
