Watching Jun Beiyue’s radiant smile, Ziqing couldn’t help but smile back herself, walking slowly toward him.
Jun Beiyue remained still, and Ziqing stepped beneath his outstretched arms, her small, delicate frame nestled close like a little bird seeking shelter. She stood there almost sheepishly, a sweet, secretive smile playing at her lips, her small face nearly pressed against his chest before she finally stopped.
Yet Jun Beiyue’s arms remained spread wide, never closing around her. Ziqing waited for a long moment before finally tilting her head up to look at him—she didn’t ask outright, but her eyes clearly demanded an answer.
Weren’t they supposed to attend to important matters? Wasn’t this supposed to be an embrace?
Had he not reminded her, she genuinely would have forgotten—he still owed her an embrace!
“You owe me. Pay up,” Jun Beiyue said, gazing down at her, his deep, ocean-dark eyes brimming with warmth and affection. Ziqing could hardly believe such a cold, stern man could possess such a tender, intimate side.
“You’re the one who owes me!” Ziqing immediately shot back.
“Who was it just now that…”
Before Jun Beiyue could even finish his sentence, Ziqing cut him off hastily. “That opportunity’s long gone—no going back now!”
Jun Beiyue frowned, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Ah… I see. Well, never mind then.”
With that, he actually let his arms drop, wrapping his oversized robe tightly around himself, and brushed right past Ziqing as if to leave.
Ziqing’s brow furrowed at once, and she spun around immediately, lunging forward to wrap her arms around Jun Beiyue from behind, burying her face against his broad back, saying earnestly, “We haven’t even gotten to the important matter yet—you’re not allowed to leave!”
Jun Beiyue’s mood brightened instantly, and he burst into hearty laughter. He simply loved this about her—her mix of reserve and boldness, entirely genuine, without a trace of pretense.
Jun Beiyue turned around, smiling. “If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just said so.”
Ziqing pouted. “Why say it when I’ve already done it.”
Jun Beiyue froze for a moment, then broke into delighted laughter, finally pulling her into his embrace, lowering his head to press a light kiss to her lips—not deepening it, yet not pulling away either.
“Woman, don’t be discouraged. I’ll find a way to cure you soon enough,” he murmured softly, his tone entirely sincere.
Seeing him look so exhausted, Ziqing’s heart ached with tenderness. She said nothing, simply reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her lips together before capturing his cool lips with her own. She wasn’t skilled at kissing, quite clumsy really, simply pressing and pressing again.
He was in no hurry, letting her stoke the fire against his lips at her own pace, finding the playfulness far more delightful than any urgency of desire, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint, secretive smile.
“The hunting trip—that was entirely my own decision to make.”
Even without his asking, she still felt the need to explain. Nanzhao wasn’t a place where one could act however one pleased, and her impulsive decision could well have cost him dearly!
But he simply frowned. “Silly girl, why shouldn’t your own affairs be your own decision to make? What I give you is always a suggestion, never a command—understand?”
Warmth flooded Ziqing’s heart, and she smiled. “Then if I keep causing chaos and leave you to clean up after me every time, you’ll grow tired of it eventually!”
“Even if you turned heaven and earth upside down, this King would still clean up after you, without fail. What is there to fear?” Jun Beiyue arched an eyebrow at her, thoroughly unbothered.
Ziqing considered this for a moment, then said earnestly, “Fine then—tomorrow I’ll go turn heaven upside down and earth inside out!”
This finally satisfied Jun Beiyue. “Come here, then—let me teach you how to properly cause chaos, starting right here.”
As he spoke, his long, elegant fingers traced a suggestive path across Ziqing’s lips. Startled, she didn’t even have time to retort with something clever before her lips were truly, thoroughly claimed…
The next morning, Ziqing woke to find Jun Beiyue already gone. She called for an attendant, and to her surprise, it was Shiliang who appeared.
“Hongyi left already?” Ziqing asked, puzzled.
“Yes. This servant arrived last night. His Highness instructed that Guxi and I take over as your personal guards from now on,” Shiliang said earnestly.
Ziqing nodded, smiling. “That girl Hongyi must be furious with me by now!”
With the Empress of Dongqin having suffered such a humiliating setback, and Chu Feiyan now having arrived in the capital as well, the real drama was only just beginning—Hongyi’s presence would genuinely have been more of a hindrance than a help going forward.
“My lady, Young Master Situ arrived early this morning. His Highness is in the main hall now—the wedding ceremony begins in about an hour. His Highness asks that you prepare yourself quickly,” Shiliang said respectfully.
Ziqing had little enough preparation to do. She applied a light, subtle touch of makeup and dressed in a simple, elegant white sash-waisted gown—understated yet refined, perfectly suited for such an important occasion.
Just as she was about to head out, Shiliang reminded her, “My lady, will you not bring your qin?”
Wuzheng, her instrument, was something Ziqing normally carried with her at all times, but knowing how much the King of Nanzhao adored music, she’d deliberately avoided bringing it along this time. As the dignified Consort Yao, she had no intention of performing publicly the way Chu Feiyan once had.
“It wouldn’t be convenient to bring. Put it away in the cabinet,” Ziqing said flatly.
“Yes!” Shiliang complied at once. Without waiting for her, Ziqing headed out ahead…
The King of Nanzhao’s wedding preparations were, naturally, underway within the royal palace itself. What should have been a joyous, celebratory occasion had instead been thoroughly stripped of the King’s admiration and infatuation with Chu Feiyan, entirely due to the matter of the totem.
This wedding was now nothing more than an empty formality. Once the ceremony concluded, Chu Feiyan’s life of house arrest would truly begin!
Yet even as a mere formality, the ceremony still had to be carried out properly.
Within the resplendent golden hall, no throne had been set at the center—instead, the seat of honor was replaced by a shrine, before which the King of Nanzhao stood, awaiting the auspicious hour for the bride’s entrance.
To the right stood Nanzhao’s civil and military officials, led by the three clan elders; to the left stood the honored guests and envoys from various kingdoms, led by the Empress of Dongqin.
With Jun Beiyue by her side, Ziqing felt considerably more at ease, thinking the ceremony bore a striking resemblance to a Western-style church wedding.
Every gaze in the hall was fixed on the entrance, waiting for the bride to appear. Ziqing, however, had no wish to meet Chu Feiyan’s furious glare. She kept her head lowered, lost in thought over the mystery of Lishang—what exactly were those missing notes? She and Jun Beiyue had discussed it late into the night before, though the man, admittedly no expert in musical theory, hadn’t been able to offer much help.
With this thought, Ziqing found herself glancing instinctively toward Baili Weisheng—that man who seemed to know everything about everything. Would he know the answer?
But just then, the ceremonial music suddenly began to play!
Ziqing instinctively looked up toward the entrance, though it wasn’t really Chu Feiyan she was watching—it was simply an instinctive reaction to the sound itself.
The ceremonial music was drifting in from outside the hall, and its rhythm—it was unmistakably part of the climax section of Lishang’s hundred scrolls, and more than that, it was precisely those very first thirty scrolls of the climax she’d heard within the Sea Valley of Qinse Valley, the very passage she could never quite get right no matter how she played it!
How could this be?
Ziqing couldn’t help herself, focusing entirely on the music with rapt attention. The ceremonial piece stretched on and on, continuing all the way until Chu Feiyan reached the King of Nanzhao’s side, all the way through to the very end of the wedding ceremony itself, before finally coming to a close.
Nothing untoward happened during the ceremony itself—but that single piece of ceremonial music alone left Ziqing’s mind churning in complete turmoil!
Who had composed this ceremonial piece, and how had it come to exist in the first place?
Why would the King of Nanzhao’s wedding ceremony feature such a piece of music?
Not until the wedding had fully concluded, and they’d returned to the envoys’ compound, did Ziqing finally manage to collect herself, murmuring quietly, “Jun Beiyue, quickly, send for Minister Bomiluo!”