Blinking, New Year's Eve arrived.
The banquet was exceptionally lively, and over the past few days, Consort Hua had constantly used the occasion to "instruct" Shen Meizhuang.
Every day after paying respects, Shen Meizhuang would go to Yikun Palace to review account books, discuss menu items, and learn about the habits of the imperial family and nobility—what they could eat and what they must avoid.
Step by step, ring linked to ring, it was utterly dazzling. Consort Hua had plenty of ways to torment people, but she had also taught Shen Meizhuang a great deal, leaving no room for anyone to find fault.
It was just that the process was rather exhausting; in the span of just a few short days, her face had grown noticeably haggard. Seeing this, Consort Hua felt a great deal of satisfaction.
*Hmph, these cheap sluts are always so dramatic.*
The palace banquet began, with eunuchs and palace maids bustling about in an orderly fashion. Each table was set with food appropriate to its rank. As the sound of string and bamboo instruments gradually swelled, the imperial concubines and high-ranking officials took their seats one after another, smiling and toasting one another.
The Emperor and Empress looked down at the harmonious scene before them, unable to suppress their good cheer.
Yixiu wore a radiant smile. Though born of a concubine, she was now the Empress, second only to one and above tens of thousands. Those aristocratic young ladies who used to look down on her now had to bow and offer their respects with the utmost reverence.
The taste of this power was truly sublime, and the smile in the Empress's eyes deepened.
Then, the Emperor and Empress toasted one another and drank slowly. As the wine slid down her throat, Yixiu looked at the Emperor with a tender gaze, her eyes brimming with affection.
Watching the two of them from below, An Lingrong felt only a wave of mockery; the pair were jackals of the same lair, thoroughly accustomed to putting on a show.
After drinking a few cups of gloomy wine, she felt her head spinning. Combined with the high temperature inside the hall, An Lingrong felt somewhat short of breath.
She quietly whispered to Xia Dongchun that she was going outside for some fresh air, instructing that if the Emperor asked, she was just changing her clothes and would be right back.
Xia Dongchun nodded, and An Lingrong, supported by Baoying, went outside.
The Emperor delivered some New Year well-wishes, followed by the concubines taking turns to toast him. The Emperor accepted them all in turn. Consort Hua had drunk too much wine and was finding it a bit difficult to stand steadily.
From the center of the hall drifted a murmuring sound of the zither, melodious and enchanting. It was none other than Noble Lady Fucha, the recent imperial favorite. Because An Lingrong had made excuses to deflect the Emperor's favor, he had turned his attention to Noble Lady Fucha instead.
Finding her musical pitch delightful and her straightforward personality amusing, he had favored her several times more. Listening to the zither music, the Empress's face betrayed satisfaction.
For some reason, having consumed a bit too much wine, the Emperor caught sight of the red plum blossoms on display in the hall, and a flood of memories rushed over him, a deep nostalgia evident in his eyes.
He turned and asked the Empress, "Have the plum blossoms in the palace bloomed yet?"
The Empress was listening to the music with great relish, and upon hearing the Emperor's inquiry from beside her, she replied, "They brave the frost and bloom."
The Emperor rose to his feet, intending to go to the Plum Blossom Garden. The Empress prepared to accompany him, but the Emperor stopped her and forbade anyone from following.
Consort Hua, quite drunk, swayed as she stood up and asked, "Where is Your Majesty going?"
Yixiu caught sight of the red plum blossoms arranged in the hall and glared at Consort Hua. Consort Hua, oblivious, met her gaze without yielding.
Catching sight of the Seventeenth Prince down below toasting others, she called him over and explained the situation, asking him to help look after the Emperor.
The hall remained extraordinarily bustling, with bright lanterns newly lit, songs and dances in full swing, and the sound of pipes and strings drifting to the corners of the palace.
Suiyu Pavilion was equally lively. After finishing dinner, Jinxi, Liuzhu, Huanbi, and Xiao Yunzi brought out the red paper from the Imperial Household Department. Someone suggested cutting window flowers, and one by one they eagerly rushed to fetch the scissors.
"My Lady, why do these window flowers keep getting uglier the more I cut them?" Liuzhu pouted, looking at the unrecognizable flower she had cut in her hands.
Huanbi stood nearby, extending the peony flower she had cut and snickering, "Take a look at mine! The flower you cut is probably too ashamed to blossom, hahaha."
Liuzhu stamped her foot and turned to her mistress. "My Lady, look at Huanbi!"
Zhen Huan watched the frolicking group, her heart filled with joy. Restraining her laughter, she comforted Liuzhu, "It's fine, just practice a bit more. Huanbi, you are not allowed to bully Liuzhu."
Zhen Huan looked at Jinxi and said, "I've heard that someone here has a pair of deft hands, able to cut paper-cuts so lifelike they seem to come alive. It's a pity I haven't seen them." A hint of regret colored her tone.
Peier smiled from the side, "My Lady, what do you mean? We do have a pair of deft hands in our palace—this servant saw Xiao Yunzi just now cutting a small portrait of Your Lady."
Upon hearing this, Zhen Huan immediately perked up. She reached out for the portrait and said, "Xiao Yunzi, your hands are so clever!"
Xiao Yunzi scratched his head in embarrassment. "This servant didn't cut it well. I failed to capture Your Lady's beauty—if anything, it looks a bit like Lady Huanbi."
When the others took a closer look, it indeed bore some resemblance to Huanbi. Zhen Huan hurriedly glossed it over, claiming it was because they had spent too much time together.
The others just took it as a bit of fun and didn't pay it too much mind.
Jinxi also looked at the portrait and said, "I've heard that if you hang your own possessions on the branches on New Year's Eve, you're bound to have good fortune in the coming year. My Lady might as well try it."
Zhen Huan pondered this, and after learning from Xiao Yunzi that the plum blossoms in the palace had bloomed, she grabbed her cloak, forbade anyone from following, and slipped out secretly.
On the other side, Baoying supported An Lingrong as they unknowingly entered the Plum Blossom Garden. Red plum blossoms bloomed in fierce competition; viewed from afar, they formed clusters upon clusters, intensely vibrant, exuding a biting, crisp fragrance that chilled the bones and refreshed the spirit.
For a moment, An Lingrong was stunned into a daze. Such a sight was truly breathtaking; no wonder Zhen Huan had been able to win favor back then. Aside from the connection to Empress Chunyuan, coupled with this magnificent scene, who knows how many spring-touched hearts it had stirred?
Even if she were replaced by Yu Ying'er, when the waters receded and the stones were revealed, the Emperor's tender affection would likely only have deepened.
Stepping into the Plum Blossom Garden, her shoes crunched against the snow with a crisp sound. Faintly, she heard the voice of an old acquaintance. Drawing closer, she saw it was Yu Ying'er. However, An Lingrong had no intention of stepping in to stop Yu Ying'er from winning favor; in this lifetime, she would instead present these old acquaintances with some grand gifts.
Without someone to spice things up, it would be far too dull. She also wanted to see how Zhen Huan and Shen Meizhuang would handle things without her playing the villain.
After wandering around for a little while, she walked out.
Stepping into the Imperial Garden, the scenery was already blanketed in white snow. Coupled with the surrounding pitch-black darkness, there was little to be seen.
Sitting down in a nearby pavilion, An Lingrong accidentally caught sight of Zhi'an secretly watching her from beside the rockery. She curled the corners of her lips slightly; she wanted to see what this fellow was up to.
Upon her rebirth, whenever she encountered this lad, she always felt he was somewhat different. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was strange, but An Lingrong's intuition told her: Zhi'an was hiding something from her.
An Lingrong gave a light cough, and pretending to be drunk, she instructed Baoying, "Go back and report to the Empress and the Emperor. Tell them this mistress has had too much wine, feels unwell, and has returned to rest first."
Baoying hesitated. "With Your Lady out here all alone, this servant is worried."
As the words fell, a gentle, refined voice came from behind. "I shall accompany Her Ladyship. You go report to Her Majesty the Empress so as not to miss the hour."
Feigning drunkenness, An Lingrong thought to herself that her intuition had indeed not failed her—it was indeed Zhi'an. However, Zhi'an's voice was slightly different from what she remembered in her past life.
It lacked the sharp, grating shrillness of an ordinary eunuch, sounding instead like a gentle scholar; one wouldn't notice unless listening very closely.
"How is it that you appeared here?"
Zhi'an stepped forward to steady the hazy-looking An Lingrong. "I wasn't on duty today. Seeing that it was getting late, I thought of coming to escort Your Ladyship back to the palace."
Baoying nodded, though she remained somewhat unconvinced. How could it be such a coincidence?
Still, seeing her mistress looking muddled after just a few cups of wine gave her a headache. Why had her mistress suddenly taken a liking to the cup?
Oh well, she would go make her apologies to the Emperor and Empress, hurry back, and brew a sobering broth.
With that thought, she simply dumped her mistress onto Zhi'an and scurried back toward the banquet.
Watching An Lingrong, who had slumped into his embrace in a drunken stupor, Zhi'an felt his heart melt into a puddle of tenderness.
*I'll just steal a single touch, no one will know,* he thought, and even as the thought crossed his mind, his hand had already moved.
He secretly stroked the mistress's delicate cheeks. Flushed from the wine, they looked like ripe peaches that begged to be bitten.
His actions outpaced his thoughts; he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips against An Lingrong's cheek—a mere dragonfly skimming the water, a brief and shallow taste.
In his arms, An Lingrong quietly opened her eyes, then closed them again. *How dare he...*
An Lingrong had to admit that her heart skipped a fierce beat.
A faint surge of elation fluttered within her. In her past life, she had discovered that Shen Meizhuang's child did not belong to the imperial physician, yet she had kept it a secret and stayed silent; even after the blood-test verification, doubts had lingered. When she eventually learned the truth from the little dumpling, she had been consumed by a madness of jealousy.
In this lifetime, she wasn't going to follow the beaten path anyway. What of raising a eunuch? Keeping a male concubine in the future wasn't entirely out of the question either.
Sensing the movement of An Lingrong in his arms, Zhi'an's expression shifted slightly, fearing something had been exposed, but he immediately recovered his composure.
An Lingrong hazily opened her eyes, caught sight of Zhi'an, and a meaningful smile slowly bloomed across her face.
The inner palace was so lonely, and the Emperor had countless concubines—what harm was there in her taking a single male concubine?
Besides, the Emperor was also a target for her revenge; in her past life, she had been treated as a mere plaything to be toyed with, and the Emperor had been the mastermind behind it all.
The mere thought of cuckolding the Emperor sent a subtle thrill of excitement through An Lingrong.
She unsteadily pushed herself up to her feet and strolled toward the rockery.
Unsure whether her ladyship had noticed anything, Zhi'an flushed red and silently trailed behind her. An Lingrong glanced sideways at his beet-red face, arched a brow, and let a faint smile touch the corners of her mouth.
*Little fellow, weren't you quite bold just a moment ago?*
*Why don't you dare own up to it now?*
A flicker of playful mischief crossed An Lingrong's eyes.
She walked over to a secluded spot beside the rockery, her gaze hazy and cheeks flushed, and pressed Zhi'an step by step against the rockery wall. Her slender, delicate fingers lightly caressed his fair face as if fondling some precious treasure.
Lowering her gaze, she locked her uninhibited eyes upon him, letting her body press instinctively closer. Her deep-pool eyes appreciatively drank in his handsome features, watching the flush spread steadily from his neck all the way up to his cheeks.
Deliberately, An Lingrong breathed softly against his ear, causing Zhi'an's body to stiffen. Putting on a facade of composure, he stammered, "Your Ladyship is drunk; this servant will escort Your Ladyship back." With that, he gently tried to push her away.
An Lingrong fixed her eyes on him, their gazes entangling. Zhi'an, at a loss, averted his face. An Lingrong leaned down closer, anticipating whatever he was about to say—
In the next second, their positions were reversed as Zhi'an's hand rose to cradle the back of her head. Dazed by the kiss, An Lingrong lost all track of time before Zhi'an finally released her.
Gazing at An Lingrong's reddened lips, a wave of heat surged through Zhi'an's body.
The two stood in quiet silence, then made their way back to Huixia Pavilion as if nothing had happened. An Lingrong entered the main hall and sat down, sipping the sobering soup brought by Baozhu.
As for Zhi'an, after escorting her to her chambers, he bolted back to the side room and chugged a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, yet it failed to quench the restless heat burning inside him.
The night grew deep. Zhi'an tossed and turned beneath his quilt, unable to find sleep. That he was able to return and serve her once more felt nothing short of a miracle granted by the heavens.
Ordinarily, he only dared harbor petty, mischievous fantasies of possessing her. Why should the Emperor fail to cherish someone as wonderful as Her Ladyship, treating her like dirt instead? Zhi'an could not stomach it, yet he had been powerless.
Now, however, that window paper had been pierced. Recalling the scene from tonight, Zhi'an felt as though he were still dreaming, his fingers unconsciously tracing his own lips, where the faint fragrance of the mistress seemed to linger still.
—————————— Divider ——————————
Meanwhile, Zhen Huan, draped in a light-colored cloak and carrying a palace lantern, strolled beneath the plum blossoms. A voice kept whispering in her heart that she had to come to the Plum Blossom Garden, or else she would live to regret it.
The biting, crisp fragrance rushed straight to the tip of her nose, and the clusters of red plum blossoms left her deeply awestruck.
Zhen Huan hung her small portrait from a plum branch and softly recited, "First, I wish my parents and younger sister health and peace; second, I wish to spend my days in the palace in peace, living out the rest of my years. With palace intrigues never-ending, preserving oneself is truly no easy task."
She paused, caught the sound of crunching snow, and raised her voice to call out, "If the adverse wind understands my feelings, easily do not crush or wither them!"
Sure enough, a deep, resonant male voice replied from behind, "Who is there? Show yourself at once, or I'll have the Plum Blossom Garden turned upside down!"
Zhen Huan ducked to the side, blew out the palace lantern in her hand, and cautiously peeked out. She caught sight of the dense dragon-embroidered patterns woven into his robes, and coupled with the booming tone of his voice, a suspicion began to form in her mind. Seeing that the man was about to approach, she hurriedly called out, "Do not come closer! This servant's shoes and socks are wet, and I am changing them."
Hearing the man halt his steps, Zhen Huan bent low and hurried away.
Prince Guo gazed at the portrait hanging on the plum branch. Noting its uncanny resemblance to Sister-in-law Chunyuan, a shock went through him, and he quietly took it down and tucked it into his pouch.
Afterward, acting as if nothing had happened, he returned to the Emperor's side. "Your Imperial Brother made this subject search long and hard."
The two imperial brothers prepared to leave the Plum Blossom Garden when they saw Su Peisheng waiting outside the entrance.
"Greetings, Your Majesty, Seventeenth Prince."
"You didn't even realize there was a tail following you," the Emperor said, unperturbed and with a teasing smirk.
Prince Guo feigned sheepish embarrassment and lowered his head. Afterward, the Emperor remarked that the Plum Blossom Garden harbored a cultured palace maid, and instructed Su Peisheng to find her, treating it as making up for his lapse in duty.
Su Peisheng was utterly baffled. "How on earth does that count as being cultured, Your Majesty?"
With his hands clasped behind his back, the Emperor walked forward. "You just need to ask what the next line to 'If the adverse wind understands my feelings' is, and that will be it."
"Seventeenth Brother, tonight we drink until we drop!"
He left a bewildered Su Peisheng behind, who cursed his luck inwardly.
*What kind of mess is this? Sigh!*
He adjusted his hat, which had slipped sideways in his haste, and hurried forward in pursuit.
Baoying reported the situation to the Empress, and permission was promptly granted.
With the Emperor absent, there was no one left for the performers to put on a show for, and the banquet drew to a lackluster close.
Because of the New Year, the Empress had explicitly decreed that no morning greetings were required for the next three days. Upon receiving the news, Baoying offered a bow of farewell and hurried back to Yanxi Palace.
After giving Baozhu a few brief instructions, she discovered that her mistress had already finished her sobering soup and turned in for the night.
Lying in bed, An Lingrong found herself unable to fall asleep, a subtle undercurrent of excitement keeping her awake. Only after a long while did drowsiness finally creep over her, and she drifted off to sleep.
Back at Suiyu Pavilion, Zhen Huan washed up and climbed into bed in a daze, quietly probing, "Do members of the imperial clan wear robes with dense dragon patterns?"
Upon receiving Cui Jinxi's confirmation that only those trusted by the Emperor wore them, Zhen Huan found her answer.