"My father is not some good-for-nothing, spoiled prince."
Song Shihuan stepped down from the carriage and stood firmly beside Song Yu. Her delicate face was tense, devoid of even a hint of a smile.
Upon hearing Song Shihuan address Song Yu as "Father," Rong Lan glanced at her with a look of disdain. "I’ve always heard that Prince Qin adopted some unwanted child as his daughter. Seeing it today, it’s clearly true."
Every word Rong Lan spoke pushed Song Yu closer to the edge of his patience.
"The Great Yue claims to be a land of propriety, yet if you truly are its princess, where is even a shred of courtesy?" Song Shihuan retorted sharply. "You harm the citizens of Great Qi in broad daylight and insult my father. Guards! Take this impostor princess to the dungeons."
No sooner had Song Shihuan spoken than Song Yu clenched his fist and struck Rong Lan squarely in the face.
Blood instantly gushed from her nose, and the sharp pain sent waves of dizziness through her vision.
"Insult me all you want, but never dare speak ill of my daughter."
Song Yu had no patience for noble decorum. As Prince Qin, being called "good-for-nothing" to his face and hearing his beloved Ah Huan dismissed as an unwanted child—how could he tolerate that?
Just as the situation teetered on the brink of chaos, a carriage bearing the banners of Great Yue entered the scene, flanked by two rows of guards. A man of striking presence lifted the curtain and scolded, "Little sister, must you always cause trouble?"
"So she really is a princess," Song Yu muttered, his opinion of Great Yue plummeting.
......
That evening, Emperor Yuanyou hosted a banquet in the palace to welcome Great Yue’s Second Prince, Rong Sheng, and Princess Rong Lan.
Amid the clinking of cups and lively chatter, Rong Lan sat bruised and swollen.
"My sister is Great Yue’s only princess, and as we share the same mother, I’ve always been concerned about her marriage," Rong Sheng began courteously. "Her first day in Great Qi, she and Prince Qin crossed paths in such a spirited manner—it must be fate."
At these words, Emperor Yuanyou’s smile faded.
Ah. So they’ve set their sights on that troublemaker.
"Fate? With her?"
Song Yu shot up from his seat. "Second Prince, let me be blunt. Your sister lacks even basic manners—arrogant, vicious, and utterly without principle. Take her back to Great Yue in a few days. Don’t let her ruin our Great Qi."
"Father, perhaps the fate the Second Prince speaks of is a cursed one," Song Shihuan added sweetly, her tone deceptively innocent.
Father and daughter showed no mercy, yet Emperor Yuanyou feigned deafness, making no move to intervene.
Rong Sheng’s expression stiffened.
But Rong Lan couldn’t contain herself. She stormed up to Song Yu.
"You—a wastrel prince whose infamy has reached even Great Yue! Do you think I want to marry you?" she seethed, her eyes blazing. "You’re not even worthy of me."
The last shred of her restraint kept her voice low, so only Song Yu could hear.
Before this, she’d despised him only because her mother forced her to come to Great Qi for this marriage. But never had she imagined he’d reject her so outright.
"You don’t want to marry? Well, I don’t want to wed you either."
Song Yu felt as if he’d been bitten by a mad dog for no reason.
"Come, let us drink." Emperor Yuanyou pretended not to grasp Rong Sheng's intentions, repeatedly deflecting his attempts to discuss the marriage alliance.
Rong Sheng had no choice but to return to the embassy, seething with frustration.
"Second Brother, that Song Yu is nothing but a dissolute wastrel—he even... even raised his hand against a woman like me!" Rong Lan cried, her voice trembling. "How could you and Mother bear to marry me off to such a man?"
"Little Sister!" Rong Sheng's expression darkened. "Mother and I have investigated thoroughly. Prince Qin's temperament is not bad, and he treats his daughter with great care. If you hadn't recklessly galloped through the streets, injuring people and speaking without restraint, why would he have confronted you?"
The old emperor of Dayue was growing weaker by the day, yet he still refused to name a crown prince.
To bolster Rong Sheng's position, they had no choice but to arrange for Rong Lan to marry into Daqi.
A princess of Dayue could never be a mere concubine—thus, Prince Qin, who had yet to take a wife, became the chosen candidate for the alliance.
"Second Brother, mark my words—marrying me off to that good-for-nothing Song Yu will bring nothing but disgrace to you and Mother. There will be no benefit in it."
Rong Lan clenched her fists inside her sleeves and stormed out of the room without looking back.
Behind her, Rong Sheng's gaze darkened.
Prince Qin's attitude toward him and his sister had been far too disrespectful. At the banquet, he had openly reprimanded Rong Lan—clearly, he held no regard for Dayue.
If that was the case, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to let his sister teach Prince Qin a lesson.
The next day, Rong Lan proposed to Emperor Yuanyou that a chrysanthemum-viewing banquet be held.
"I’ve long heard of Daqi’s talented scholars and beauties, all gifted beyond measure. Since it’s golden autumn, why not host a chrysanthemum banquet to broaden my brother’s and my horizons? I’m willing to offer Dayue’s Lingxiao Sword as the grand prize."
Emperor Yuanyou agreed immediately.
The Lingxiao Sword—why pass up such an offer?
"I assume Prince Qin will also attend the banquet?"
Rong Lan sweetly mentioned Song Yu by name, and the smile in Emperor Yuanyou’s eyes froze.
Something was off.
......
Qin Prince's Mansion.
"A chrysanthemum banquet, and I have to go—all for some lousy sword." Song Yu grumbled. "In the time it takes to admire flowers, I could’ve read several pages of a book."
Liuxi adjusted Song Yu’s robes while Song Shihuan stifled a smirk—that was the Lingxiao Sword! How could his father dismiss it as a "lousy sword"?
"His Majesty said the Dayue princess specifically asked if you would attend." Song Shihuan narrowed his eyes. "There’s definitely something fishy going on."
"A chrysanthemum banquet is just about admiring flowers, sampling wine, and composing poetry." Song Yu mused for a moment. "If they’re trying to scheme against me... tsk, where’s the opening?"
Admiring flowers? He had eyes.
Sampling wine? He was a seasoned veteran.
Composing poetry...
Song Yu’s eyes widened. "No way..."
They were planning to humiliate him in public.
Song Shihuan, too, grasped the "severity" of the situation and fixed his father with a piercing stare. "Father... can you compose poetry?"
"Cough, cough!" Song Yu choked on his own saliva. "Of course... of course I can! Don’t worry, A’Huan. With the way that Dayue princess looks, she won’t outmaneuver me."
Maybe he could make a quick stop at the Shen residence on the way—memorizing a few poems last-minute should still work, right?
Song Yu thought silently to himself.
Song Shihuan did not expose Song Yu's thoughts, instead nodding with feigned seriousness. "Since Father is confident, I have a plan to return the favor to Dayue."
"Return the favor?"
Song Shihuan smiled like a cunning little fox. "It is impolite not to reciprocate."
