Jun Beishen had already ducked beneath the chair, while the rest of them remained standing, staring at him with suspicion written all over their faces.
Ziqing hadn’t even said she’d report him—was this fellow really so terrified of Jun Beiyue? He wasn’t some man-eating tiger!
“Tenth Brother, stop embarrassing yourself and go greet him properly!” Jun Beiyao said awkwardly, trying to pull him out.
But Jun Beishen kept trying to squeeze further under the chair. “Tell him I’m not here, I don’t want to see him! Seventh Brother, I beg you, cover for me. Last time at Yiqing Palace, I offended him terribly—I never want to see him again in my life!”
“You offended him? At Yiqing Palace?” Jun Beiyao asked, puzzled, glancing at Ziqing. Ziqing merely shrugged—she knew nothing about it.
“It was the twenty-seventh of last month, the day Consort Yi hosted a banquet in her palace!” Jun Beishen said hurriedly.
Jun Beiyao glanced at Ziqing, his brow furrowing slightly, and was about to speak when Jun Beishen continued, “That whole night, you were off at the Alluring Fragrance Pavilion, while the rest of us were at Yiqing Palace. Consort Yi had Father Emperor punish Fourth Brother with wine, and I… I was in high spirits and kept egging it on, so Fourth Brother ended up drinking cup after cup! Afterward he was completely unconscious!”
At these words, Ziqing’s expression changed at once. She fixed her eyes on Jun Beiyao with a frown. The night of the twenty-seventh of last month was exactly when she had crossed over into the Alluring Fragrance Pavilion. All the other princes had gathered at Consort Yi’s palace that night—only Jun Beiyao had gone to the Alluring Fragrance Pavilion!
Could it be…
Seeing Ziqing looking at him, Jun Beiyao immediately looked away, scolding in displeasure, “Tenth Brother, don’t talk nonsense and ruin my reputation. When did I ever spend a whole night at the Alluring Fragrance Pavilion? I just stopped by for a bit!”
Such an explanation was clearly meant to cover something up. Ziqing turned her gaze away, though her eyes had turned sharp and cold, suspicion already stirring within her.
Jun Beiyao, seeming unwilling to dwell on the matter, abruptly yanked Jun Beishen out from under the chair, saying with displeasure, “The moment you drink, you turn into this. Fourth Brother won’t hold it against you. Come on, let’s go—it’s been a while since we’ve seen Fourth Brother anyway!”
Just as he spoke, a familiar voice rang out. “Qing’er, why are you here?”
Qing’er—that was what he always called her in front of others, with an air of intimacy and doting affection. But in private, he had never once addressed her that way.
He strode up the stone steps in large strides. Jun Beishen immediately ducked behind Jun Beiyao, head down, eyes shut, not daring to make a sound.
Ziqing was still trying to think of how to respond when Jun Beiyao spoke first. “Fourth Brother, it’s been so long! Tenth Brother and I ran into Fourth Sister-in-law in the Imperial Garden by chance and invited her to sit and have some tea. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
It was only then that Ziqing noticed that Xuanyuan Lige and the Blood Zither had vanished without a trace at some point.
“I don’t mind,” Jun Beiyue said coldly, extending his hand toward Ziqing, his face expressionless. Ziqing obediently placed her small hand in his, letting him lead her, her head lowered submissively.
“We’ll take our leave.”
With that, Jun Beiyue turned and left, not sparing so much as another glance at Jun Beishen. Only after they had gone did Jun Beishen dare to peek his head out, releasing a huge breath. Once they were far enough away, he leapt up and cursed loudly, “Damn it, it’s not like I’m actually afraid of him—I’m just letting him have his way!”
“All right, all right, don’t try to act tough in front of me. Fourth Brother gives Father Emperor that same cold face too—why bother arguing with you over it?” Jun Beiyao said with a laugh, watching the retreating figures of Jun Beiyue and Ziqing, though a flicker of malice flashed briefly in his eyes.
Jun Beishen pouted. “In all of Da Zhou, he’s the only one bold enough to give Father Emperor a cold shoulder.”
“Heh, Tenth Brother, do you really think Father Emperor dotes on Fourth Brother?” Jun Beiyao asked, still smiling, his tone teasing.
“Among us brothers, he’s the only one who’s been granted a title, the only one with military accomplishments. If Father Emperor doesn’t favor him, who else would he favor?” Jun Beishen said, then glanced around as if about to reveal some enormous secret, lowering his voice. “Seventh Brother, honestly, I don’t think Father Emperor truly favors Second Brother either.”
Jun Beiyao immediately broke into a grin. “Then do you think Father Emperor truly favors you?”
“Not really,” Jun Beishen admitted earnestly.
“Don’t worry. This time you’ve managed to invite Xuanyuan Lige. Once Father Emperor is pleased, who knows—he might just grant you a title of your own!” Jun Beiyao said with a smile.
Jun Beishen immediately looked embarrassed, rubbing his hands together. “Seventh Brother, are you really willing to give me the credit? That… that feels really awkward!”
How could someone like him possibly manage to invite Xuanyuan Lige? In truth, it was Seventh Brother who had gone to make the request.
“Heh, I don’t want anything. As long as I’m well-fed and comfortable, that’s enough for me—I won’t compete with you all for such things!” Jun Beiyao said with a smile, though a calculating gleam flashed through his eyes.
Father Emperor had bestowed upon him the character “Yao,” meaning brilliant radiance stretching across ten thousand li. At the time, nearly everyone had believed he would be the most trusted and valued son after the Crown Prince and the Second Prince. But who could have imagined that Fourth Brother—a bastard son born to a palace maid, given the humble character “Yue,” meaning “moon”—would end up receiving the title “Prince Yao,” a name that, though it sounded the same, carried a far greater honor than his own.
How could he possibly accept that?
He looked at the Tenth Prince’s foolish, naive smile, and a cold curve tugged at the corner of his lips. He found himself looking forward to the arrival of the autumn hunt…
In the winding corridors of the Imperial Garden, Ziqing walked hand in hand with Jun Beiyue, the whole way in silence. He didn’t press her about what had just happened, and in his presence, she rarely spoke first on her own. She kept her head lowered, unable to stop her gaze from drifting again and again toward the small hand he held so firmly in his, her fine brows knitting slightly, her thoughts unreadable.
Not until they returned to the Prince Yao’s residence did Jun Beiyue finally speak, his tone indifferent. “Remember this—stay away from them from now on, especially Seventh Brother.”
“Your Highness, both the Tenth and Seventh Princes have been very kind to me. The Seventh Prince especially was extremely friendly—seeing that I was bored and alone in the Imperial Garden, he suggested we go have tea at Tenth Prince’s palace. Please don’t misunderstand, Your Highness.”
Ziqing explained hurriedly, deliberately emphasizing the Seventh Prince, Jun Beiyao.
To her surprise, Jun Beiyue simply changed the subject, asking indifferently, “Can you ride and shoot?”
“I know a little,” Ziqing replied.
“Can you hunt?” Jun Beiyue asked again.
“I’ve never hunted before.”
“Stay obediently at the residence. I’ll be away for five days. Tomorrow morning, someone will take you to the training grounds to practice. When I return, I’ll personally examine your progress. If you fail, you’ll remain at the training grounds until the autumn hunt.” With that, Jun Beiyue offered no further explanation and left in a hurry.
“Your Highness…” Ziqing chased after him a few steps, only to see him mount his horse and gallop swiftly toward the outskirts of the city, as if some urgent matter awaited him.
Had Emperor Tianhui said something to him in the study?
Puzzled, Ziqing made her way toward the West Garden. There, she found Shiliang and Hongyi, both of whom had received thirty strokes of the rod, now lying face-down on their beds, unable to move.
The moment they saw Ziqing enter, they both tried to sit up together.
“Don’t move.”
Ziqing’s expression remained cold, but she personally fetched some wound medicine and applied it to them herself. Shiliang and Hongyi were overwhelmed with gratitude, exchanging glances but not daring to speak.
They truly couldn’t understand their mistress. She seemed like such a cold, aloof person, and yet she was nothing at all like those other high-and-mighty, condescending masters.
“Hongyi, are you certain there’s no record of any imperial prince at the Alluring Fragrance Pavilion?” Ziqing suddenly asked.
“Confirmed, none. I checked myself. No one saw any prince go there that night either,” Hongyi said earnestly.
Ziqing nodded and said, “Tell me about the Seventh Prince.”
“The Seventh Prince? Master, is something wrong?” Hongyi asked, puzzled.
“Tell me everything you know,” Ziqing said flatly.
“Master, aside from causing a stir when he was born and given the character ‘Yao,’ the Seventh Prince hasn’t really stood out much. He’s amiable, likes to joke around, and generally keeps a low profile. I’ve heard he’s closest with the Tenth Prince—though besides Your Highness, the Tenth Prince seems to get along with just about everyone,” Hongyi answered honestly.
“How is his martial skill?” Ziqing asked further.
“Quite good, actually—better than the Second Prince’s. I’d guess he’s second only to Your Highness,” Hongyi replied.
Ziqing nodded thoughtfully. She recalled that on the day the Court of Judicial Review had held its hearing, Jun Beiyao had also been absent…