The results of both the literary and martial trials were sent over immediately once Eunuch An’bao got hold of the list.

As expected, Zhan Qingcheng, Mu Mu, and Jian Yi all made the list.

Tonight there would be a banquet—the palace was hosting a feast for the twenty-one noble young men who had been selected.

In truth, this was the final step of the selection process, meant to let everyone display their individual talents.

It would let the princess take another careful look at them all during the banquet, so she could properly choose the men she favored.

Eunuch An’bao also secretly delivered another list.

“Princess, these five young men are candidates the Emperor has already decided on. The remaining five spots are for you to choose yourself tonight.”

“What does that mean? Father Emperor is predetermining them?”

Feng Jiu’er looked at him, not particularly surprised by this.

Even though it felt somewhat coerced, being part of the royal family meant she should be used to such things, even without having gone through it before.

It was just like how the Emperor chose his consorts—the women selected weren’t necessarily ones he was personally fond of.

It was merely a means of winning over powerful officials.

She set the list down and looked at An’bao. “So you’re saying I only have two spots left to choose, is that it?”

“Eh?” Only two spots? Weren’t there still five men she could choose from?

The Princess’s Palace had already been arranged—An’bao, following the Emperor’s wishes, had reserved ten spots for the consort-companions to be brought in this time.

The west wing had already been prepared, set aside for the consort-companions chosen by the princess herself.

As for the east wing, that was reserved for the men personally selected by Feng Qiongcang.

Among the Feng Clan, east was considered the position of honor—the moment the wings were divided into east and west, the difference in status became immediately clear.

“Princess, this servant has already had the sleeping quarters for the ten consort-companions arranged.”

“Oh?” So that meant the large-scale work in the east wing these past two days had been to prepare for serving the five new consort-companions to come?

Without even needing to think about it, those five were surely the men her Father Emperor had chosen.

That meant everyone else would have to live in the west wing.

She thought about it, and thought about it again, and inexplicably felt a chill.

The west wing—lower in status?

Ugh, why did she have this feeling that she might be done in at any moment?

“Can the sleeping quarters not be reassigned?”

The moment he heard this, An’bao quickly said in a low voice, “Princess, the fathers of these few are all powerful ministers of the current court. In the future, they will surely bring you advantages.”

It was only because the princess normally spoke so casually that An’bao dared to address her this way.

The meaning was simple enough that the princess couldn’t very well pretend not to understand.

But Feng Jiu’er had never given the future a single thought to begin with.

Furthermore, she had no idea what use these so-called consort-companions would even be once chosen.

As husbands? Don’t make her laugh.

She was a single woman—could she really take so many husbands?

Wasn’t that against the law?

Then again, where had this concept of “against the law” even come from?

“So there’s no room for discussion, then?” If there was no room to discuss, why even bother telling her at all?

“Princess, you’re still young—perhaps you haven’t quite realized yet…”

“Fine, when does the banquet start? I’ll go get my makeup done; I’ll come when it’s time. Go on and tend to your business.”

Feng Jiu’er yawned.

She’d been woken at the crack of dawn to watch the literary trial selections, hadn’t rested at noon, and had to watch the martial trial in the afternoon as well—by now, she was rather sleepy.

“I’m going to take a nap first. Once the time for the banquet is set, have someone come notify me.”

She turned and walked into the inner hall, paying him no more attention.

An’bao had originally had much more to say, such as how the selection would proceed during the banquet.

But the princess seemed entirely uninterested in the matter.

The princess was still too young, hadn’t yet given thought to the future—perhaps because she’d spent so many years outside the palace, unlike children raised within the palace who knew how to plan for themselves.

Had she grown up in the palace since childhood, her temperament would probably be quite different now.

Seeing that the princess had truly gone inside and had no intention of paying him further attention, An’bao shook his head and could only step out of the princess’s bedchamber.

The Princess’s Palace was vast, with the east and west wings on either side.

Though the buildings were similar in structure, it was obvious that the east wing was, overall, considerably grander than the west.

The other five men would live in the west wing…

A proud, aloof figure suddenly flashed through An’bao’s mind.

Having that proud man live in the inferior west wing… ah, why did he have such a vague sense of unease?

Surely tonight’s banquet wouldn’t go wrong, would it?

As night fell, the palace maids brought formal attire to dress Feng Jiu’er.

Jiu’er was groggy through nearly the entire process, dressed and made-up before she had even fully woken.

Dressed in her formal attire, Feng Jiu’er had lost a touch of her casual, free-spirited air, but gained a measure of dignity and nobility.

She truly had the makings of a princess—at least, in terms of looks, once dressed up, she was the picture of elegant grandeur!

As she walked in slowly, surrounded by eunuchs and maids, every man present found his gaze locked onto her.

She lacked the rigid solemnity typical of palace women, yet possessed more grace and refinement than an ordinary woman.

She lacked the petty frailty of a proper young lady from a great family, yet was nothing like the vulgar and coarse.

She carried both the charming air of a young girl and the bold, spirited bearing of a heroine.

One might think her delicate, yet the moment she glanced back, that single look carried an unspoken authority that struck you all at once.

If asked to say exactly what kind of woman she was, with so many people watching, not a single one could come up with a definitive answer.

In short, this princess was ever-changing—any description at all seemed to fit her.

Jiu’er took her seat and swept her gaze across the hall below.

Zhan Qingcheng wasn’t there.

Ugh, what a headache.

That feeling of being doomed crept up again.

“Princess, aside from the young man named Zhan Qingcheng, everyone else has arrived.”

The Emperor wasn’t attending tonight; An’bao was in charge of arranging the entire banquet.

Jiu’er rubbed her brow, that feeling of being doomed growing ever stronger.

“Where is he right now?” she asked.

An’bao answered truthfully, “The Emperor has arranged sleeping quarters for everyone. He’s probably resting.”

Jiu’er glanced at Mu Mu not far away; Mu Mu merely kept his head down, drinking, paying her no mind.

She looked at Jian Yi next; Jian Yi hastily busied himself eating, likewise ignoring her.

The Ninth Prince’s temperament wasn’t something they could fathom.

If he didn’t wish to come, even an eight-bearer palanquin sent to fetch him wouldn’t be able to move him.

If he hadn’t come, it was surely because something had displeased him.

Feng Jiu’er herself was well aware of this.

Though she held the noble rank of princess, she nonetheless remained unsettled, all because of the displeasure of a mere candidate consort-companion.

Whatever An’bao said after that, whatever everyone else discussed, Feng Jiu’er basically didn’t hear a single word of it.

Her mind was entirely fixed on that figure clad in plain white.

Not even bothering to attend the banquet—wasn’t that a bit too arrogant?

But, well, she just happened to like that kind of arrogance—what was she supposed to do about it?

Before the banquet had even ended, Feng Jiu’er drew up the list of those selected, handed it to Eunuch An’bao, and then found an excuse to leave.

Five spots were the men designated by Feng Qiongcang; of the remaining five, naturally three spots she kept for herself.

As for the other two, she hadn’t even properly looked at them.

She simply scribbled down two names at random and handed them to An’bao.

As for Feng Jiu’er herself, after leaving the garden where the banquet was held, she wavered back and forth, and in the end still found herself walking toward the courtyard where the consort-companions were resting…