At midnight, Consort Baoxiang, who spared no expense in the palace to buy connections, also received a piece of news.

This quickly sobered her from the joy of her son being chosen by the Imperial Princess, and she hurriedly got dressed and out of bed.

The lamplight illuminated her iron-blue and pale face. After a long while, she couldn’t help muttering angrily aloud.

“That pair of cheap scoundrels, Lady Jin and Eleventh! How dare they try to steal my Yi’er’s honored position as Imperial Princess’s husband!”

She threw on clothes and was about to go out, but was stopped by a nanny who hurried over. She wasn’t a favored consort—rushing to the Prince’s sleeping quarters in the middle of the night would be asking for bad luck.

Consort Baoxiang understood this principle too. She frowned and sat on the bed edge, thinking for a while before asking, “The royal decree the Prince issued today is still with me, isn’t it?”

The nanny confirmed it was. Since Consort Baoxiang was Murong Yi’s mother, Prince Da’an had sent both the court documents and royal decree to the Cease Desires Courtyard.

Consort Baoxiang pressed her lips tightly together. After a long while, she said faintly, “There’s nothing for it but to strike first…”

An hour later, the already sleeping Murong Yi was awakened. They said Consort Baoxiang had fallen critically ill. Murong Yi hastily got up and rushed to the Cease Desires Courtyard. Before even entering, he asked, “She was perfectly fine during the day—how did she suddenly fall critically ill? Has the imperial physician examined her? What are the symptoms? Has she taken medicine?”

The nannies answered carefully, saying that upon hearing the good news, Her Ladyship was so happy she drank several extra cups at dinner, then caught a chill from the wind. At midnight she suddenly developed a high fever. The imperial physician had already examined her, saying it was wind-cold entering the body, quite severe, which was why they summoned the Young Master.

Murong Yi entered to see Consort Baoxiang lying pale in bed, her head wrapped in cloth, dark circles under her eyes, looking thoroughly haggard. He was accustomed to seeing her imperious and energetically excited, rarely seeing her so weak, so he felt somewhat unaccustomed. He sat by her bedside.

At this time, a maid brought medicine she had brewed. Murong Yi personally took it to feed her. Consort Baoxiang didn’t refuse, half-closing her eyes. After drinking a few sips, she said, “Rushing about in the middle of the night, cold air entering the body—you should have some hot porridge for a late-night meal.”

A serving girl brought the late-night meal, set up a small table on Consort Baoxiang’s couch, helped her sit up, and mother and son sat facing each other for the meal. Murong Yi wasn’t accustomed to being too close with his mother and was about to make an excuse to decline when Consort Baoxiang said, “You’re leaving. Last time we couldn’t have a proper meal together, so let Mother make up for it this time.”

Murong Yi’s heart stirred. He sat down silently. Consort Baoxiang looked listless as she personally ladled porridge for him, gently stirring the spoon in the scallop and chicken porridge to cool it before handing it to him. She sighed, “Earlier I was feverish and dizzy, couldn’t sleep, so I thought over various matters… In recent years, Mother was anxious and treated you too harshly. Don’t hold it against me.”

The hand stirring Murong Yi’s spoon paused.

Consort Baoxiang had always been rigid, rarely lowering herself to apologize to anyone, let alone to her son. Over all these years, he was accustomed to seeing her fierce as a vajra, sharp as a blade. He had never imagined she would have moments of softening her tone to say such things.

Thinking of what he had just done, he couldn’t help feeling mixed emotions.

Looking up again, he saw his mother unusually without elaborate makeup, her hair disheveled, revealing a hint of frost-white—she actually had gray hair.

Being able to give birth to someone as beautiful as Murong Yi, Consort Baoxiang was naturally a rare beauty herself. She was also extremely strong-willed, so even daily in her own palace, she dressed immaculately with smooth hair arrangements, truly radiant and dazzling. Murong Yi had never imagined that his mother would one day show signs of aging.

Murong Yi stared at that line of slight white, his mixed emotions turning into faint sorrow. To hide the expression in his eyes at this moment, he raised his bowl and took a gulp.

The bowl blocked his vision, so he didn’t see the slight joy that flashed in Consort Baoxiang’s eyes at that instant.

After drinking a mouthful of porridge, Murong Yi finally said, “Mother Consort, when Grandfather left, he advised you that being too rigid leads to breaking, telling you to abstain from obsession and anger, open your heart, forget gains and losses. Wine opens the heart to fate’s warmth and cold, lazily calculating wins and losses in casual chess. Only by letting go can one see the vast world…”

“In this man-eating palace, if you don’t care about anything, we’d have died long ago!” Consort Baoxiang blurted out.

Murong Yi was stunned.

Perhaps sensing her uncontrolled intense attitude, Consort Baoxiang took a breath and softened her tone: “I understand. Don’t worry too much either.”

Murong Yi heard the perfunctory tone in her voice and sighed inwardly. Consort Baoxiang continued, “Don’t disbelieve Mother. If you live smoothly, I can let go.”

“What do you mean by smoothly?”

“Becoming the Imperial Princess’s husband, obtaining imperial family status, making your father look favorably upon you. In the future, plan well beside the Imperial Princess. Though the Imperial Princess’s husband cannot enter officialdom, the Imperial Princess will become emperor. When she becomes emperor, all worldly affairs will be decided by one person—what can’t be changed then? You should…”

Murong Yi suddenly laughed.

“So you want me to be a seductive concubine who serves with beauty.”

He suddenly didn’t want to say anything more. Losing interest, he stood up and said, “Mother Consort, rest well. Your son still has matters to attend to, so I won’t…”

The scene before his eyes suddenly began rippling like water. Everything, including his mother’s face, was spinning and floating. Her thin lips opened and closed, saying something he couldn’t hear, but he felt those eyes had a sticky luster, like a whirlpool that would trap anyone who approached.

Heaven and earth were falling rapidly. The blue-green gold-inlaid crane chess ceiling seemed to crash down on his head. Before finally sinking into mental chaos, he finally heard clearly Consort Baoxiang’s last few words.

“…Mother is doing this all for your own good…”

…

“Dan Ye?”

When Tie Ci called out this name, the red-robed youth opposite smiled with curved lips.

With this smile, his eyes curved slightly, bringing that heart-penetrating sweetness again. However, the snow-white little canine teeth barely visible at his lip corners and the sharp gleam flashing in his eyes made one vaguely wary, like seeing a beast with a sweet exterior but sharp claws—wanting to be pleased but not daring, wanting to approach but unable.

His voice also carried the hoarse quality of desert wild sands, yet was quite pleasant, though the rhythm was slightly strange. “You’re that Imperial Princess who had people spread rumors about me?”

Tie Ci looked at him with smiling eyes: “What rumors? I haven’t heard any.”

Dan Ye curled his lips: “I knew you southern barbarians were cunning, always denying things when confronted. I recently cursed you, then as soon as I entered the capital, I heard those fabrications. If not you, then who?”

Tie Ci asked curiously, “What did you curse me with?”

Dan Ye snorted with laughter: “Called you a waste!”

“I am a waste.” Tie Ci smiled. “Then what does that make the stray dog who failed to ambush me just now and got kicked out by me?”

“If I’d really ambushed you, I’d have split you with one blade already.” Dan Ye was unconcerned. “But I gave you an opening to exploit. What, you—a mere woman—really think you can compete with me?”

“Whether I can or not, we’ll know after competing.” Tie Ci extended her hand. Little Bug respectfully presented a bundle. Tie Ci took it out and assembled it—a lightweight horn bow. “I’ve heard Wolf Lord Dan Ye’s archery is unmatched. I happen to have a slight reputation in archery myself. Rather than choosing another day, why not have a go right now?”

The ruler of Western Rong was called Wolf Lord. Dan Ye, the most beloved son of the Western Rong King and designated heir, also earned this honorific title.

Rumor had it this one was also wolf-like—violent yet patient, impossible to shake off once attached, extremely troublesome.

Dan Ye also took out his traveling bow from behind and raised his chin, asking, “How do we compete?”

Tie Ci pointed forward.

“Speed shooting. See that dead-end alley three hundred paces away? Have people hang bronze gongs and drums on the wall at the alley’s end. You and I each take one side, blindfold ourselves, each take a hundred arrows—you shoot the drum, I shoot the gong. Can’t remove the blindfold until arrows are exhausted. Most hits wins.”

“Bring arrows.”

The Five Cities Military Commissioner’s men and the Eastern Palace Nine Guards had already heard the news and arrived. Knowing Tie Ci’s temperament, they didn’t approach closely, only constrained and dispersed the crowd, establishing a perimeter to prevent accidental arrow injuries. The crowd was kept far away, craning their necks but unable to see clearly what was happening.

Dan Ye squinted at the direction Tie Ci indicated. Vaguely ahead, banners fluttered and tall buildings stood in rows. He wasn’t familiar with the capital and didn’t think much of it. Seeing guards position the bronze gong, he blindfolded himself, exhaled, and drew his bow.

On the other side, after he blindfolded himself, Tie Ci, who was pretending to blindfold herself, tossed the cloth aside and immediately sat on a stool Dan Shuang had dragged over. Little Bug presented a plate of pastries.

Dan Ye’s archery was indeed excellent. Almost immediately, drum sounds began booming with very even rhythm and imposing momentum. Listening carefully, it was actually the melody of the frontier battle-breaking tune.

Tie Ci applauded.

This control, strength, and accuracy were truly remarkable.

Hearing no movement from the bronze gong, Dan Ye tilted his head slightly: “You southern nobles love pretending and faking. Your archery skills were probably someone letting you win and flattering you, making you think you’re really a divine archer. Today I’ll show you what real archery is.”

Before he finished speaking, suddenly the bronze gong rang frantically like torrential rain, and he was immediately stunned.

This speed…

Tie Ci sat cross-legged with a smiling squint, raising her hand to blow a kiss toward the far end of the street.

The torrential ringing immediately became even more intense, practically playing out a thunderstorm rhythm.

Dan Ye was so shocked by that clanging din that he forgot to shoot arrows—drawing the bow and changing arrows took time, yet these rapid sounds had no pause. He could tell that in one instant there were nearly a hundred sounds.

This was simply absurd—there were only a hundred arrows total!

The alley’s end and surroundings had been cleared. With his extremely sharp hearing, he was certain no one had approached after blindfolding. Could it really be Tie Ci shooting?

He absolutely refused to believe it. He simply stopped shooting, threw down his bow, and without removing his blindfold, strode forward.

As soon as he moved, Tie Ci immediately stood, patted pastry crumbs off her hands, and left too.

Dan Ye walked while hearing the gong still ringing like torrential rain, yet there were no sharp wind sounds of arrows passing around him. He yanked off his blindfold and saw the bronze gong trembling slightly, with countless tiny objects hitting it, the sound endless.

He slowly looked up.

He saw tall buildings on both sides with red lanterns hanging high, brocades and silks everywhere. Among the silks were countless rouge beauties leaning on railings with smiling faces. Some cracked sunflower seeds, some ate preserved plums, some gnawed duck wings. After eating, with a wave of red sleeves, sunflower seed shells, plum pits, and duck bones were thrown at the bronze gong, creating clear ringing sounds. Some were even competing for accuracy—those who hit beckoned and laughed charmingly, those who missed spat in frustration.

Both sides were lined with such pleasure houses, the buildings packed with women. With each person spitting once, the bronze gong could ring a hundred times.

Dan Ye: “…”

He’d seen cheating before, but never cheating like this!

When he looked up, the prostitutes in the buildings all brightened up, immediately eager to show off in front of this wild, sweet, and special youth. But they were too eager, so sunflower seed shells, plum pits, and duck bones all rained down on Dan Ye.

Dan Ye: “…”

He turned sharply toward the other end of the alley. Sure enough, not only was Tie Ci gone, but even the guards from earlier had all vanished.

A moment of silence.

A plum pit flew over. He was so lost in thought that he forgot to dodge, and with a splat, the sticky plum pit stuck to his face.

Dan Ye turned his head and slowly picked off the pit, staring up at the building.

The prostitute who had spat the plum pit was originally laughing and flirting with her eyes. Meeting his gaze, she shuddered in fright and cleverly dodged backward.

Just then, a whistling sound arose. The plum pit at Dan Ye’s fingertips came flying with the wind, exploding with a crack. Above the deep red carved railing support, a deep hole pierced through appeared.

The support was a full half-foot wide and thick. If that prostitute had still been standing there, the plum pit would have gone through her chest.

This time it was the buildings above that fell silent.

A moment later, women’s shrill curses rolled over like tidal waves, accompanied by old shoes, rotten eggs, menstrual cloths, foot-binding strips raining down like hailstones… There were also worn-out undergarments and belly bands from the women, crashing down all over Dan Ye’s head and body.

Bang bang bang bang—the sound of doors slamming shut rang out urgently. When Dan Ye struggled out from a pile of belly bands, menstrual cloths, stinking socks, and old shoes and looked up again, all the brothels and pleasure houses on both sides had shut their doors.

A moment later, a furious roar echoed through the street:

“Tie Ci, I will definitely sell you to the Western Rong royal tent as a female slave!”