The moment Ziqing stumbled, she instantly sensed a shower of silver needles streaking past just above her head!
Ziqing touched the extremely fine silver needles tucked in her own sleeve and sneered coldly. Whoever’s hidden-weapon technique this was, it left much to be desired—though the craftsmanship of the needles themselves was exquisite.
Unfortunately for them, she could dodge bullets, let alone hidden weapons moving at this speed. Back when she’d been mastering hidden weapons herself, this Consort Yi had probably still been off somewhere playing in the sand!
Only after she stumbled did everyone in the room finally turn as one to notice her presence.
“Who might you be?” Consort Yi asked, displeasure evident on her face.
“Reporting to Your Highness, this is the consort Prince Yao has just chosen—Princess Consort Han Ziqing!” a eunuch hastily announced in a loud voice.
“Nonsense. The Emperor has yet to issue an edict entering her into the family registry—how dare you call her Princess Consort already?” Consort Yi immediately reprimanded him, startling the eunuch into rapid nodding, not daring to say another word.
Only then did Consort Yi look Ziqing over, saying coldly, “What are you standing there for? Do you expect this Consort to come fetch you personally?”
She hadn’t even fully stepped into the room yet, and already they were making trouble for her. Could Consort Yi not muster even a shred of the patience befitting an Imperial Noble Consort?
Ziqing stepped forward. Dressed simply amid a room full of women vying to outshine one another in gaudy finery and heavy makeup, she stood out starkly. Though displeased, everyone in the room looked her over with unconcealed disdain.
Ziqing paid it no mind. In her heart, she held far greater contempt for this pack of women who spent their entire lives jostling for the favor of a single man than they could ever hold for her.
She kept up her demure, docile front, observing every courtesy. “This humble woman, Han Ziqing, pays her respects to Consort Yi, to all the honored consorts, and to the Prince Consort.”
Just as she bowed, more hidden darts flew at her from both sides—yet Consort Yi still made no move to tell her to rise!
What a Consort Yi indeed. No wonder she’d held favor above the entire harem for so many years—she certainly had her methods!
She was in the middle of a bow, and Consort Yi hadn’t given her leave to rise. If she moved on her own, the charge against her could be made as serious as anyone liked.
Ziqing neither rose nor dodged, taking several fine needles in her sides without so much as flinching. Needles this fine could bury themselves entirely in flesh without detection, and were certainly coated in poison.
Only then did Consort Yi allow a hint of a smile. “Very well, rise now, come closer so this Consort can look at you. The bride our Prince Yao personally chose—she must be no ordinary woman!”
Ziqing stepped forward, letting herself be inspected, maintaining her meek smile throughout, all the while noting the malice lurking in Consort Yi’s eyes.
“What a lovely face indeed. I hear you have a younger sister too—she must be quite pretty as well. Ah… if Prince Yao hadn’t beaten him to it, this Consort would have simply asked His Majesty to match her to our Second Prince instead.”
Consort Yi smiled with apparent delight, as if she were quite fond of Ziqing—yet her words were oddly twisted, deliberately mixing up their identities.
“Mother, you’re mistaken—this one is the younger sister!” Ouyang Jingqin hurriedly corrected, though her eyes betrayed clear contempt—even a legitimate-born daughter wouldn’t dare compete with her for the Second Prince, let alone this ruined woman everyone had had a turn with!
“The younger sister? You mean that ruined concubine’s daughter?” Consort Yi feigned shock, abruptly releasing Ziqing’s hand. At once the room erupted in staged uproar, everyone playing along.
“That ruined concubine’s daughter!”
What cruel words to hurl. Did Ziqing not feel the sting? Only, she had never been the type to cry simply because something hurt.
Seeing everyone throwing themselves into the performance so enthusiastically, Ziqing played along too, lowering her head timidly, looking as wronged as a meek little wife.
Seeing this, Consort Yi hurriedly seized her hand again, saying apologetically, “This Consort has been muddled, so muddled—how could anyone our Prince Yao has set his eye on possibly be ruined! Those rumors outside the palace must all be false, surely?”
Ziqing kept her head lowered, saying nothing.
But Consort Yi’s brow furrowed, and stubbornly, she pressed further. “Ziqing, the rumors outside say you were resting at the Splendor of the Nation… and were… were raped by Young Master Chen of the Chen household, and left lying naked at the front gate—that must be false too, surely?”
“It’s true,” Ziqing said flatly. She knew she couldn’t lie, and had no intention of lying.
“What?”
Consort Yi’s face immediately filled with alarm, and she shoved Ziqing away hard. “It’s true?”
“It’s true.”
Ziqing raised her head, her gaze calm and steady as she met Consort Yi’s eyes—unflustered, unafraid, neither angry nor defiant.
Such hypocrisy, such humiliation—all of it meant only to provoke Ziqing into anger, to bait her into a misstep. But when it came to composure, she could remain unmoved even if Mount Tai itself crumbled before her, let alone at such petty provocation.
Consort Yi shook her head repeatedly in shock, unable to believe it, while all around her the room broke into murmurs and gossip.
“Someone, you must have gotten this wrong—did Prince Yao truly choose her?” Consort Yi demanded angrily.
The eunuch reported timidly, “Consort Yi, there’s no mistake. This old servant personally escorted her here from Prince Yao’s residence.”
“How is that possible!” Consort Yi pointed at Ziqing, sputtering “you” several times without managing a full sentence, her fingertip nearly jabbing Ziqing’s nose.
Her nose was not something to be pointed at so casually. Ziqing took a step back and said flatly, “If Consort Yi doesn’t believe it, why not have Prince Yao come explain it to you himself?”
However great Consort Yi’s power might be, she was, after all, only an Imperial Noble Consort—not Jun Beiyue’s own mother, and certainly not the Empress. Jun Beiyue’s marriage was hardly hers to comment on!
Ziqing was clearly using Jun Beiyue’s name to press down this pack of women! And sure enough, that name proved remarkably effective.
A flash of malice crossed Consort Yi’s eyes, but she immediately changed her tune. “There must be some misunderstanding here. Prince Yao’s judgment has always been impeccable!”
Ziqing smiled meekly and said nothing.
“Ha, come, come—tonight I simply invited you here to sample tea, to try the autumn Baily dew tea that was just presented as tribute. You arrived a bit late, so this Consort made sure to save some especially for you!”
Consort Yi personally brought over a cup of freshly brewed tea. Ziqing recognized at a glance that this was green tea, Bilong—autumn tea was always inferior to spring tea, its color more yellow, its flavor thinner. Yet the cup before her carried both the clear color and fragrant aroma characteristic of spring tea—undoubtedly, something had been done to it.
Ziqing sneered inwardly. This trick of Consort Yi’s was frankly weak. Anyone truly skilled at poison would avoid tea altogether, since tea was a peculiar thing—even the slightest difference in water quality or temperature could affect its aroma and flavor, let alone the introduction of poison!
The only thing capable of giving autumn Bilong the color and fragrance of spring Bilong was the deadly poison Huajin—a toxin undetectable for the first three days, then erupting violently over the following three. Once poisoned by it, no one survived past the seventh day.
Seeing no reaction from Ziqing, Consort Yi’s smile grew even warmer. “Ziqing, don’t you like it? This Consort couldn’t even bear to drink it herself, saving it especially for you.”
At this question, everyone’s eyes immediately fixed on the cup of tea. Everyone seated here today had clawed their way through the harem’s endless intrigues—how could they possibly fail to guess Consort Yi’s intentions?
Seeing Ziqing not respond right away, everyone settled in to watch the show unfold. Aside from the Emperor himself, this was the first time Consort Yi had ever personally poured tea for anyone—such an enormous honor that if Han Ziqing dared refuse it, the offense would be no small matter indeed.
Seeing Ziqing hesitate, everyone grew even more expectant. Even the Second Prince Consort, Ouyang Jingqin, couldn’t help but speak up. “Little sister Ziqing, Consort Yi dotes on you so—if it were anyone else, this cup of tea wouldn’t even be offered to them! Do be careful not to… spurn such kindness!”