Yan Tongshu said, "Auntie, I'm still young."
Chen Meirong snorted at her. "Still young? If you keep dragging your feet like this, in a few years, you'll be in the same boat as widows looking for a second match."
Yan Tongshu raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with widows, Auntie? What I want is true love. If it's true love, a widow just means she and I were destined for each other. She gained her freedom before meeting me, only to wait for me, her one true soulmate."
The moment she heard "true love," Chen Meirong got a headache.
Yan Liangyu was also hung up on true love, which was why Zhou Zhengxun had dragged things out for so many years. Why was Tongshu still clinging to the idea of true love?
Chen Meirong couldn't understand it. Why not just find a man who dotes on her, understands her, and likes to have fun with her, like she herself had done?
She was perfectly satisfied with her life now. Qian Buping was infinitely better than Old Yan, that old fossil who was always controlling her and wouldn't let her wear gold or jewels.
It was precisely because she knew Chen Meirong would get a headache that Yan Tongshu used true love as an excuse. Sure enough, Chen Meirong, who was usually so talkative, fell silent.
Yan Tongshu seized the opportunity to pick three mediocre bolts of fabric, asked Chen Meirong to have the shopkeeper wrap them up, label them clearly, and deliver them straight to the Yan residence.
The next day, Yan Liangrong changed into plain, unassuming clothes, took a carriage, and arrived at Ying Li's village.
She had the carriage stop at the head of the village and went alone to Ying Li's courtyard.
Yan Liangrong knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Ying Li walked over and opened the door, her dark, glossy eyes fixed curiously on Yan Liangrong. "You are?"
Yan Liangrong said coolly, "Just passing by. Could I trouble you for a bowl of water?"
"Of course." Ying Li smiled and stepped aside to invite her in, then walked briskly into the kitchen. Before long, she came out with a bowl of warm water. "Ma'am, I've added some honey in it. Please have a taste."
"Thank you." Yan Liangrong took it and took a sip. A faint sweetness spread across her tongue.
She set the bowl aside and asked, "Is it just you at home?"
Ying Li pulled over a small bamboo stool, sat down beside Yan Liangrong, and said with a trusting smile, "Yes, it's just me in my family."
Yan Liangrong probed further. "You have no other relatives?"
"I have some, but they treated me badly." Ying Li lowered her lashes, then quickly lifted them, her eyes clear and bright. "Only My Lord treats me well."
Yan Liangrong: "My Lord?"
Ying Li nodded, a hint of happiness unconsciously spilling into her expression. "Yes, My Lord. He's a very, very good person. Back then, I was alone and helpless, and nearly sold off. He saved me. He cares about me deeply and dotes on me. When it was hot in summer, he'd buy me a bamboo mat and take me out for iced treats. When it was cold in winter, he feared I'd be chilly, so he'd send me new quilts and blankets, and even take me to pick out fabric to make clothes. He said the atmosphere at home was suffocating, and that he felt most relaxed when he was at my place."
Ying Li curved her eyebrows into a smile. "Oh, and he really enjoys talking to me. When I was sick, he stayed by my side until I recovered. That time, he said he even got scolded by his wife at home."
Yan Liangrong's slender fingers trembled slightly. "He has a wife?"
"Yes." Ying Li pressed her lips together. "But his wife is very frightening, with a terrible temper. He said his wife is a woman of great ambition, very harsh with him, and very harsh with the children too. He said in that house, he could barely breathe every day, and he dreads his wife. His son says the same — that she only forces him to study all day, and he hates her. None of them likes her. They all fear her and all want to escape that suffocating home. Ma'am, don't you think that home sounds terrible?"
Yan Liangrong's throat tightened. "Do you like him?"
"Very, very much." Ying Li answered without hesitation. "And I can feel that he likes me too."
Yan Liangrong reminded her, "He has a wife."
"I don't care." Ying Li's gaze was firm. "He needs me. He's miserable and in pain when he's with his wife, but with me, he's happy. I believe that one day, he'll be moved by me, break free of the world's constraints, and bravely face his own heart."
"Is that so?" Yan Liangrong stood, her voice icy. "Are you really that confident? Little girl, his wife was young once too. She and he were also together because of love."
"But he's in pain now." Ying Li looked at Yan Liangrong with a pair of innocent eyes.
Yan Liangrong pulled the corners of her mouth in a bitter smile. "You're too naive."
With that, Yan Liangrong turned and left.
Suddenly, Ying Li grabbed the hem of her skirt, knelt before her, and looked up at her face. "Ma'am, I know who you are. When I went to find My Lord before, I saw you from afar once."
Yan Liangrong's voice turned ice-cold to the extreme. "Since you know, get lost."
Ying Li pleaded, "Ma'am, I know you hate me. You think I've meddled in the bond between you and My Lord. You can hit me, scold me, even order me to die. I'll accept it all. But I beg you, please spare My Lord. Being with you has made him utterly miserable. You control him, you push him, but you never ask if he's willing or what he wants. You only drive him to climb higher and higher, to reach ever greater positions, but you never care whether he's tired, whether he suffers, whether he's hurting inside."
Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke, her every word earnest. "Ma'am, My Lord is a person too. He's not a puppet on your strings. Please let him go. Let him breathe, and live one free and joyful life. If he stays with you, he'll wither away day by day, becoming a hollow shell with no soul... and he might even die."
Yan Liangrong found this scene, this moment, absurd and bitterly ironic to the extreme.
A sixteen-year-old girl, ignorant of the world, kneeling before her — a twenty-six-year-old woman — tugging at her skirt, begging her to let go of her own husband of ten years. A thirty-year-old man.
How laughable.
Yan Liangrong asked, "Have you two slept together?"
Ying Li didn't understand the meaning of the question at first. Once she did, her cheeks flushed crimson, but she still raised her chin stubbornly, defending Zheng Chun's reputation. "Ma'am, you can think of me as a filthy woman, but you must not think that way of My Lord. He's a noble man, a gentleman. He holds himself to strict moral standards. He would absolutely never do anything to betray you."
Even more laughable.
Yan Liangrong suddenly felt that the biggest joke of all today was herself, standing here in this moment.
Yan Liangrong let out a cold scoff, her voice steeped in mockery. "You think just because you haven't been to bed, it's not betrayal? Little girl, you're too young. At sixteen, you'd better not so easily believe the words of a thirty-year-old man."
When she finished, she yanked her skirt back sharply, turned, and stepped out of the courtyard, striding away.
Once she returned to the carriage, Yan Liangrong covered her eyes and wept.
It was too absurd.
Too ridiculous.
Someone had actually knelt before her, begging her to let go of her own husband.
Yesterday, when she'd learned that Zheng Chun and Ying Li had remained chaste, she had tried hard to comfort herself, to deceive herself. Zheng Chun was thirty, and Ying Li was only sixteen. If Zheng Chun were two years older, he could be Ying Li's father. Perhaps, she'd told herself, Zheng Chun's care for Ying Li wasn't the caring of a man for a woman, but the affection of an elder for a younger one.
But what Ying Li said today shattered her last shred of illusion completely.
What made it even more humiliating and painful was the image of her that existed in Zheng Chun's words.
Ying Li had only seen her once from a distance; Ying Li didn't know her at all, had no idea what kind of person she was.
Everything Ying Li knew about her came from the descriptions given by Zheng Chun and Zheng Ke.
She had worked hard for this family for ten years. In those ten years, she poured all her dowry into Zheng Chun's official career, went back to her own family for money and connections, and helped Zheng Chun climb the ranks.
She begged for days on end to find the best tutor for Zheng Ke, hoping he wouldn't fall behind others.
She schemed and calculated tirelessly, plotting every move.
And in the end, all she got in return was suffocation, pain, and fear.
Then Zheng Chun said she never asked if he wanted it, if he was tired, if he was suffering. Her own flesh and blood, her son, said he didn't like her.
Yan Liangrong wiped her tears, looking upward, trying to make the tears stop, but they came down like a broken dam, completely beyond her control.
She tugged at the corners of her mouth in self-mockery.
So, these ten years, she had been a joke.
Her sacrifices had all been one-sided.
In Zheng Chun's heart, she was this terrible, terrifying person.
The carriage trundled slowly back to the Zheng residence.
Yan Liangrong lifted the carriage curtain, saw the two characters "Zheng Fu" on the plaque above the gate, and felt a wave of nausea rise in her chest.
A suffocating, terrifying home?
If that was the case, she didn't want to stay either.
Yan Liangrong told the driver to turn around and head to the Yan residence instead.
She didn't want Lady Yan to worry.
So by the time Lady Yan saw Yan Liangrong, Yan Liangrong had already composed herself.
Yan Liangrong rested her head on Lady Yan's lap and called out, "Mother."
Lady Yan stroked Yan Liangrong's long hair, her gaze gentle and loving: "What's the matter?"
Yan Liangrong shook her head: "I just suddenly missed you, Mother."
Yan Liangrong was such a strong-willed person, but Lady Yan was her birth mother—how could she not notice something was off? She said softly, "If you miss your mother, then stay a few more days. This will always be your home."
Yan Liangrong's eyes welled up, and she remained silent.
After a long moment, she called out again, "Mother."
Lady Yan held her hand patiently: "Mother is here. I've always been by your side."
Yan Liangrong lowered her eyes, hiding the surging pain beneath her lids: "Mother, when Father took a concubine back then, were you sad?"
Lady Yan's hand holding Yan Liangrong's paused for a moment, then she said, "How should I put it? I was sad at first, but later I wasn't."
Yan Liangrong lifted her head, and Lady Yan suddenly saw clearly the pain in her eyes, realizing that something had gone wrong between Yan Liangrong and her husband.
She looked at Yan Liangrong tenderly, switching her self-reference to the more intimate "Mama": "At first, when Mama suddenly learned your father had taken a liking to Meirong, after so many years of feelings, of course I was heartbroken. But in this world, most men take concubines. When Mama married, your grandmother reminded me of that, so I accepted it before long. Your father praised me for being generous and forgiving, virtuous and kind—but that was only on the surface."
Yan Liangrong: "On the surface?"
Lady Yan's gaze grew distant: "In my whole life, Mama has never had romantic feelings for any man, including your father. I don't love your father. He and I just have some affection built up from years of being together. Because I don't love him, I can look at everything calmly. For instance, I can tell that Meirong doesn't love your father either.
Her parents coveted the betrothal gifts your father offered, never asked for her opinion, and married her off blind. She's a pitiful soul too. I believe you can also see that your Aunt Chen has a fondness for straightforward men like Boss Qian. Someone who can stroll through the markets with her, eat at street stalls, wear gold and silver—utterly down-to-earth. She and your father were never cut from the same cloth."
Lady Yan lowered her gaze to Yan Liangrong: "Liangrong, back then, when you set your heart on Zheng Chun, I objected, but I didn't object to the very end. Your younger sister Liangyu had feelings for Zhou Zhengxun, and although I didn't approve, I always indulged her. Do you know why?"
Yan Liangrong shook her head.
Lady Yan's voice was gentle to the extreme, yet full of strength: "Because Mama has never experienced romantic love, so I don't know what the happiness of romantic love truly is. I objected on one hand, but on the other, I was afraid of holding you back. I wasn't sure whether Zheng Chun would be the one to give you happiness. Then I thought—how could I be certain that the person I chose would be right, and would never have problems? Life is long, decades upon decades. How could there ever be a choice that's entirely correct? But as long as the Yan family stands, as long as Mama is here, we will always be your support.
No matter what happens, no matter what you face, you will always have a way back. Since that's the case, there's nothing to fear. Whether you marry, remarry, marry three times, or never marry at all—as long as Mama is here, your support is here. Mama will always back you."
Hearing this, Yan Liangrong understood that Lady Yan had sensed something.
Her voice choked with sobs, she buried her head in Lady Yan's lap and called out, "Mama."
Lady Yan caressed her with deep tenderness.
...
That afternoon, Yan Tongshu returned from his duties at the office and, seeing that Yan Liangrong had come, tried to draw her into conversation. But Yan Liangrong shook her head, lacking any energy or spirit.
Yan Tongshu cast a questioning glance at Yan Liangyu, who shook her head in confusion, indicating she didn't know either.
That evening, after dinner, Yan Liangrong slept with Lady Yan, and then she stayed on at the Yan residence.
Though they didn't know what had happened, they could tell Yan Liangrong was deeply distressed. Yan Tongshu and Yan Liangyu were afraid of upsetting her further, so they didn't ask too many questions. Instead, they tried every way they could to find amusing diversions to cheer Yan Liangrong up.
On the day of the birthday celebration, snowflakes fell in the early morning and the cold wind howled fiercely, though it only lasted a short while before dying down.
By late afternoon, when the sky was growing dark, the ground lay blanketed in silver white.
Yan Tongshu took a carriage to the palace gates.
She stepped down from the carriage, her feet sinking into the accumulated snow. A cold wind blew, and she quickly pulled her fox-fur collar tighter around her neck, then tugged her hat down to cover her ears before walking through the palace gates.
The banquet was held at Jifu Hall. Before entering, Yan Tongshu removed her collar and hat, then followed the eunuch to her seat.
The seating was arranged by rank. She was of the third rank, so those seated to her left and right were also third rank.
Yan Tongshu sat there, bored, for a while. The Minister of Personnel took the seat beside her and began to needle her again: "Minister Yan is so upright and incorruptible that you can't even be bothered to sit with the likes of us at morning court, yet today you deign to grace the palace with your presence? Could it be that your own household has become too full of smoke and chaos for you to bear?"
Was it her choice whether to attend the emperor's birthday?
This Minister of Personnel was just picking a fight.
Yan Tongshu gritted her teeth: "Minister Cheng, I hear your little grandson got into a fight at the private school yesterday over a cricket?"
The Cheng family prided themselves on being a scholarly lineage. The previous generation and his own generation had been exemplars of talent. His next generation—his two sons—were slightly lacking but still quite learned. However, when it came to the generation of his grandchildren, the boy had only managed to memorize the Three Character Classic by age nine, and on top of that, he was a complete little menace who couldn't care less about studying. All he did was chase after cats and tease dogs all day. The Cheng family had been in an uproar over this boy, yet the little devil simply refused to change.
The Minister of Personnel was exposed by Yan Tongshu and snorted: "Childish temperament. Give him a couple more years and he'll know better."
Yan Tongshu huffed: "He's already eleven. Two more years makes thirteen, fifteen by nominal age—old enough to be betrothed. How much more sensible does he need to be? Oh, by the way, I recall the youngest zhuangyuan in our dynasty wasn't me—some Cheng Jiang, passed the exam at twelve, a genius among geniuses. Huh... wasn't that your ancestor, Minister Cheng?"
The Minister of Personnel's beard bristled so hard it nearly flew off, his face turning the color of pig's liver.
Yan Tongshu twisted his head away and refused to look at him.
Just then, Meng Zheng accompanied Meng Yi over.
Meng Yi sat down beside Yan Tongshu. Meng Zheng glanced at the Minister of Personnel, then at Yan Tongshu, and leaned in to ask in a low voice: "What did you do to Old Man Cheng?"
Yan Tongshu puffed out his cheeks: "I was sitting here minding my own business, and he came over to take a jab at me. He jabbed me, so I jabbed back. He's got a small heart and couldn't take it."
Meng Zheng looked at the Minister of Personnel again. That expression—he was truly furious.
Meng Zheng sat down next to Yan Tongshu, and the two chatted idly. Before long, they'd drifted from the new flavor at Aunt Yang's noodle stall to the Lingzhou mutton Meng Zheng had given Yan Tongshu last time he was sick, and from topics far and wide to the upcoming military exercise of the Divine Guard at Feng Mountain.
Yan Tongshu had never seen a real two-army confrontation exercise. Her eyes lit up: "Is it the kind where whoever takes the enemy's main camp first wins?"
Meng Zheng nodded: "Right. Interested?"
Yan Tongshu nodded.
Meng Zheng laughed heartily: "Then it's settled. Next time, I'll take you to watch."
Yan Tongshu pressed her palms together: "Lord Meng..."
She was about to heap praises on him when Meng Yi turned his head to look over.
Yan Tongshu's cry of "Lord Meng" had summoned the big Lord Meng over.
Yan Tongshu felt a flash of awkwardness. Meng Yi looked at Meng Zheng and scolded: "I've never seen you talk so much on an ordinary day. The banquet's about to start. Go back to your seat."
Meng Zheng shot Yan Tongshu a wink, left a "talk later," and walked away.
Yan Tongshu sat up straight again, lowered her head, and resumed playing the role of a well-behaved child.
Finally, the banquet began.
A crimson robe embroidered with dragons arrived slowly amid a crowd of attendants.
Yan Tongshu knelt with the other ministers: "We, your subjects, wish Your Majesty boundless longevity. Long live the Emperor, long live, long live, ten thousand years."
Qin Yi took his seat on the dragon throne and lifted a hand: "Rise."
Everyone rose and returned to their seats.
Yan Tongshu followed the crowd back into her seat, hands placed properly on her knees, eyes down, nose aligned with heart—doing her best to shrink into the background as she waited for the feast to begin.
Today was the Emperor's birthday banquet, so naturally there was no shortage of auspicious words.
Round after round of blessings, wave after wave of flattery and praise—by the time they were done, Yan Tongshu was starving. And just then, someone stood up to propose improvising poems on the themes of "fortune, longevity, and joy" to liven the occasion.
Who was it!
Yan Tongshu looked up indignantly.
They'd been just about to enter the serving phase. Which bastard had to cut in and drag things out?
Then she saw the Vice Minister of Revenue.
Yes, that's right—the one who always tagged along with Yan Liangyu, Pei Jin'an's grandfather.
Yan Tongshu quietly lowered her head again.
Fine, forget it. He was Pei Jin'an's grandfather, and they might even become in-laws in the future.
The old man had passed the imperial exams with distinction in the third rank back in his day, so it made sense that he liked his poetry.
Qin Yi's gaze drifted lightly over Yan Tongshu.
Yan Tongshu sat with her back straight, head bowed in perfect etiquette, hands resting obediently on her knees—proper in every way, composed in bearing.
Just... not very cheerful.
Qin Yi thought for a moment, then glanced at Lu Xi. Lu Xi stepped forward knowingly. Qin Yi lowered his voice: "Serve the meal."
Lu Xi: "Yes."
Lu Xi bowed and withdrew, passing the word to a young eunuch, who passed it down level by level until it reached the imperial kitchen.
Soon, attendants filed in carrying dishes.
Yan Tongshu almost cried with gratitude.
She was so hungry.
By modern time, she'd entered the palace at four. The banquet started after six. Then after all those rounds of blessings, it was seven.
Today wasn't a day off. She'd gone straight from the Kaifeng prefecture to the palace, having eaten only a single stuffed bun on the way.
The ministers had spent ages composing congratulatory poems. During all that, she hadn't had so much as a grain of rice. Her stomach was already flat with hunger.
Yan Tongshu kept her eyes lowered, maintaining the same decorum as before, but her pupils were already glued to the table.
Soon, the dishes began to arrive.
Yan Tongshu looked up expectantly at Qin Yi.
She knew the rules—the Emperor takes the first bite, and only then may the ministers eat.
Qin Yi raised a hand to stop the poetry: "Everyone, sit. Let's eat."
All replied: "Yes, Your Majesty."
Qin Yi picked up his ivory chopsticks. Yan Tongshu watched those chopsticks as they landed, bit by bit, on the steamed perch.
The tender white flesh was lifted into the air, seeming to bounce twice in the lamplight that made the hall bright as day.
The Emperor had started.
Yan Tongshu immediately grabbed her chopsticks and reached for the tangerine-peel duck she'd spotted when the dishes arrived.
She'd once heard the family cook say that when the palace hosted banquets, every dish by the imperial chefs used only the finest ingredients—even for the tangerine-peel duck, the peel came from fifteen-to-twenty-year-old Xinhui tangerines.
Even the tofu was different. In shape it was tofu, and it was made from tofu, but the broth was simmered for hours with countless precious ingredients. Every drop was pure essence, impossibly savory.
Yan Tongshu picked up a small bite of duck with skin and meat attached.
The duck had been stewed until tender, deboned, steamed, and finished with a reduced sauce. Soft and melt-in-the-mouth, it was also very easy to eat.
The duck meat hit her tongue—savory, lightly sweet, and impossibly fresh.
Entertainers came on stage. Strings and pipes filled the air.
Qin Yi took a sip of wine, and his gaze unconsciously drifted toward Yan Tongshu. He picked up a piece of duck and put it in his mouth.
After finishing the tangerine-peel duck, Yan Tongshu picked up a spoon and ladled up some lucky luck tofu.
If she weren't in the palace, she'd have stood up and applauded the chef for that smooth, silky tofu.
Absolutely, positively delicious.
Amid the music and flickering candlelight, Yan Tongshu swallowed a mouthful of tofu, and her whole demeanor transformed—fresh and radiant, as if the tofu had been laced with some wonder drug.
Lu Xi attended Qin Yi carefully, glanced at Yan Tongshu, then ladled a small bowl of tofu and placed it before Qin Yi.
Qin Yi picked up his spoon and took a taste.
The imperial chefs' food was something he was used to. On ordinary days, he never found the tofu particularly special. But today, somehow, the flavor had become something extraordinary.
Yan Tongshu had the tangerine-peel duck, the lucky luck tofu, and the stir-fried quail with spring bamboo shoots. Before long, she was nicely full.
She patted her belly and looked at the tangerine-peel duck once more. Of all the dishes, that duck was still her favorite.
But duck was duck, after all. No matter how carefully it was prepared, the innermost meat would always be just a touch under-seasoned.
Yan Tongshu thought for a moment, picked up a candied plum, tore the plum flesh into thin strips, then took a piece of duck and placed it on top of the plum meat before popping the whole thing into her mouth.
Instantly, the sweet-sour of the plum filled in what the tangerine-peel duck lacked, adding a unique dimension to the flavor.
Yan Tongshu closed her eyes and savored the moment.
Just now, whatever dish Yan Tongshu picked up with her chopsticks, Qin Yi would pick up the same dish. Lu Xi also caught on to what was happening, and before Qin Yi could even give a command, he quickly mimicked Yan Tongshu, picking up a sour-sweet plum preserve, carefully tearing the flesh from the pit, and placing it on Qin Yi's plate. Then he picked up a piece of duck meat and set it on top.
Qin Yi glanced at it, said nothing, and used his chopsticks to lift the plum flesh and duck meat together, putting them into his mouth, chewing slowly.
He raised an eyebrow slightly—this kid really knew how to eat.
From imperial chef delicacies to street-stall snacks, he could always find the most delicious bites.
Once they were mostly done eating, Yan Tongshu cradled her wine and slowly watched the song and dance.
The performances before the emperor were all about elegance and restraint—nothing flashy, nothing to risk a mistake.
Yan Tongshu found it terribly dull. Now she could understand why Qin Yi had originally run out of the palace to watch acrobatics.
Acrobatics were indeed far more entertaining than the palace dances.
Halfway through the banquet, Yan Tongshu felt she had drunk too much water. She looked around, quietly slipped away from the feast, and went to the latrine.
After finishing her business, she came out, skirted the small garden, and followed the imperial garden path back to Jifu Palace.
A young eunuch walked ahead holding a lantern to light the way.
The two of them rounded a rockery and happened to run into Meng Yi and Cao Jian, the deputy commander of the Shence Army.
As the light fell on them, Cao Jian quickly hid something in his sleeve.
Meng Yi's face was ashen, his eyes fixed on Cao Jian with murderous intent.
Cao Jian was a big, burly man—he stood two heads shorter than Meng Yi but was far more imposingly built, possessing natural brute strength.
It was said that back in the day, Cao Jian was framed for a crime and fled to the mountains as an outlaw. While escaping, he killed a tiger with a single punch, saving the Prince of Ming, who had been pinned down by the beast. Seeing Cao Jian's extraordinary strength and his cunning courage, the prince took him in as a low-ranking officer under his command.
Later, Cao Jian won repeated merits on the battlefield through his raw power, and the Prince of Ming gradually promoted him all the way to deputy commander of the Shence Army.
At this moment, Meng Yi's expression was terrible, his fists clenched tightly. Cao Jian, by contrast, wore a smug grin—his fleshy face piled up with delight and excitement.
Yan Tongshu gave both men a bow and followed the eunuch away.
After walking a short distance, she turned back to study the two of them.
By then, Cao Jian had already eagerly reached out to sling an arm around Meng Yi's shoulder. He seemed to be saying something disrespectful, which provoked Meng Yi so much that he threw a punch at him.
Both men were military officers, but Cao Jian had risen through sheer muscle while Meng Yi had earned his rank through genuine skill.
In a real fight, Cao Jian couldn't beat Meng Yi.
However, this was the palace, and neither man dared to cause a major disturbance. They could only exchange a couple of brief blows before stopping.
Meng Yi stood two steps away from Cao Jian, staring coldly at him.
Yan Tongshu couldn't see any more after that.
One reason was that it was dark out, and the lamplight wasn't bright enough.
Another was that she had followed the eunuch around a turn.
Back at the banquet, Yan Tongshu rubbed her numb, chilled hands and slowly sipped the low-alcohol fruit wine.
Not long after, Cao Jian returned. There were traces of the scuffle on his clothes, and a faint, barely noticeable scratch on his face.
Aside from that, he appeared relaxed, as if the injury hadn't dampened his mood in the least—in fact, he seemed... pleased?
Meng Yi came back right after him.
He sat down beside Yan Tongshu, seemingly having composed himself. On the surface, nothing showed.
But his clothes bore the marks of being torn.
Yan Tongshu took a sip of her fruit wine. Those two were behaving oddly—what had happened?
Then again, one was the emperor's man, and the other belonged to the Prince of Ming. They'd been sworn enemies from the start, so it wasn't strange for them to clash.
Yan Tongshu shook her head and put the matter out of her mind.
