The palace dragon boat races were set for the fifth day of the fifth month.

Wei Rao slept early and rose early, practicing swordplay for two quarters of an hour as usual, then soaking in a fragrant flower petal bath.

Pink and tender petals floated on the water’s surface. As the water rippled, the clustered petals separated, revealing glimpses of the beauty’s fair, slender legs beneath the water. Before one could see clearly, the petals drifted back together, concealing the underwater scenery.

Wei Rao lazily leaned against the edge of the wooden tub, contentedly closing her eyes. Her curled eyelashes were dotted with water droplets, clumping together wetly. Her snow-white, delicate arms weren’t the fashionably frail, boneless type popular among women nowadays—they were slightly plump but not cumbersome. When clothed, she appeared slender, but to the touch, her skin was full and elastic.

A brilliant red petal drifted toward Wei Rao with the water’s movement, landing on her back like a red plum blossom fallen onto white snow.

Bitao gently brushed the petal away.

“Miss, it’s time to wash the front.”

The steam had flushed Bitao’s cheeks red, and Liu Ya beside her was in the same state.

Wei Rao was nearly asleep and made a discontented murmur at the words, squinting as she turned around.

What dazzling spring beauty it was! Even having seen it many times, Bitao still felt her face burn, her heart race, and her limbs weaken.

The two maids each washed one side, knowing their mistress was at the age of physical development and was delicate and sensitive to pain. Bitao and Liu Ya kept their movements extremely gentle, afraid of hurting their mistress. However, to maintain cleanliness, they still needed to scrub lightly. When Bitao applied a bit of force, Wei Rao let out an “ai” and instantly ducked underwater, showing only her neck and head above.

Wei Rao said nothing, but her phoenix eyes looked accusingly at Bitao.

Sweat beaded on Bitao’s forehead as she handed the cloth to her mistress: “Miss should do that part herself. I can never manage the right amount of force—you suffer, and I get nervous.”

Wei Rao took the cloth and carefully scrubbed herself underwater, though even doing it personally, she still gasped several times.

“When will it stop hurting?” Wei Rao complained softly. Growth was one thing, but it was affecting her sword practice.

“Just these one or two years, then it’ll rarely happen,” Liu Ya said with a smile.

Wei Rao pouted. She still had to wait that long?

After bathing, Wei Rao stepped out of the tub wrapped in a towel, and the two maids skillfully dried her off.

Wei Rao’s hair was thick, with soft, fine strands. With some morning breeze, after wringing out her hair and lying on a reclining chair in the courtyard for a while, her hair was completely dry, and the flush from bathing had also faded. Only then did she dress up properly, changing into the outfit prepared in advance.

The upper garment was begonia pink—closer to white with just a hint of pink—with deeper colors at the collar and sleeve edges.

The skirt was azure-white gauze embroidered with exquisite lotus flowers emerging from water on the hem.

This outfit had simple embroidery and wasn’t eye-catching from a distance, but it used premium materials. When Wei Rao was still, the long skirt fell smoothly; when she walked, it fluttered ethereally, making her appear like a lotus fairy emerging from mist—delicate, beautiful, and lively, deliberately restraining the alluring qualities in her features.

She held a round fan embroidered with lake and mountain scenery, taking graceful steps to Old Madam Wei’s side. Without saying anything, she made Old Madam Wei smile with delight: “Beautiful. Raorao knows how to dress herself.”

Today they were going to watch dragon boat races, not compete in beauty. Her little granddaughter’s attire was perfect—neither ostentatious nor failing to outshine other young ladies with her natural beauty.

Having gained her grandmother’s approval, Wei Rao smiled and sat to one side.

Moments later, Guo Shi accompanied Wei Chan over. Wei Rao turned to look and saw Wei Chan wearing a white skirt embroidered with colorful butterflies and flowers—elegant with touches of brilliance, quite appropriate. Wei Chan’s appearance closely resembled Guo Shi’s—oval face with almond eyes. She wore a pearl hairpin, newly bought this year. In terms of beauty among the Wei family’s four daughters, she only lost to Wei Rao, which always sparked her jealous resentment of “if Yu exists, why must Liang also exist?”

Old Madam Wei looked at Wei Chan and nodded: “Chan’er looks lovely too.”

Wei Chan’s expression brightened as she glanced at the inexpensive begonia silk flowers in Wei Rao’s hair, confident she could attract more attention today.

After breakfast, Old Madam Wei set out by carriage with her two granddaughters. Upon reaching the Imperial City, a line of carriages was already queued ahead.

Old Madam Wei sat calmly in the main seat of the carriage compartment, Wei Rao pondered her concerns, and Wei Chan felt nervous, listening intently to sounds outside. However, before the Imperial City gates, even imperial relatives dared not make noise—there were only the rolling sounds of cart wheels and the constant clip-clop of horse hooves.

After an unknown amount of time, palace servants came to notify the ladies to dismount and led everyone to queue on one side.

The maids stayed behind while Wei Rao and her sister followed behind Old Madam Wei, positioned in the middle-rear section. Ahead of them were imperial relatives, families with titles higher than Earl Cheng’an’s mansion, and dependents of third-rank officials.

Two lines formed—ladies on the right side, officials facing them about ten feet away.

All were people of status and position. No one would look around at this time, though those at the back could discreetly observe those diagonally ahead.

Officials basically had one representative per mansion, while ladies could bring two, so the two lines had fewer men and more women.

Parallel to Wei Rao’s side in the men’s queue, the same position had begun lining up dragon boat race teams—six teams total wearing red, gold, white, black, purple, and blue racing uniforms. All were elite soldiers selected from the capital’s Upper Four Armies, Imperial Guards, and Imperial City Division—each tall, strong, and heroically spirited.

Wei Rao had to observe propriety and couldn’t look back. Keeping her head still, she glanced toward the front left and saw that the first man in red racing attire was Lu Zhuo.

Wei Rao’s eyebrows rose slightly, then she understood.

The capital’s Upper Four Armies were the Flying Eagle Army, Tiger Army, Dragon Cavalry Army, and Shenwu Army. Each commanded fifty thousand elite Imperial Guards, jointly defending the capital. Among the Imperial Guards, the Upper Four Armies held a higher status than those stationed elsewhere. Among the Upper Four Armies, the Shenwu Army held the highest position and had been led by the Lu family men for decades.

The current Shenwu Army commander was Lu Zhuo’s grandfather, Old Duke Lu.

Old Duke Lu certainly wouldn’t participate in such young men’s competitions. Lu Zhuo had just returned from frontier training—this dragon boat race was perfect for establishing his reputation.

Wei Rao didn’t recognize the red-uniformed soldiers behind Lu Zhuo. The leading man in a gold uniform, nearly parallel to Wei Rao, should be the Dragon Cavalry Army team leader.

Marquis Xiting commanded the Dragon Cavalry Army, and his heir, Han Liao, also served in it. Could this person be Han Liao?

Unable to see his face clearly with peripheral vision, Wei Rao had no intention of looking closer. After scanning Lu Zhuo’s upright figure, she returned to observing her nose and heart.

The two lines began entering the palace simultaneously.

Eunuchs and female officials held rosters to verify everyone’s identities. The men’s line moved faster. By the time Old Madam Wei’s group stepped forward, the two teams led by Lu Zhuo and Han Liao had already entered. The Tiger Army’s competing team was being verified alongside the Wei family.

Wei Rao kept her eyes straight ahead, not noticing that nearly all the men were looking at her.

After entering the palace, men and women went their separate ways.

The Imperial Palace was divided into eastern and western gardens. Most palaces were in the eastern garden, where emperors of past dynasties lived and conducted state affairs. The western garden contained a vast imperial lake with grass-covered shores and an island called Qionghua Island at its center. Today’s race viewing location was on Qionghua Island, with pavilions and towers distributed from top to bottom. Guests would be assigned viewing spots from top to bottom according to rank.

Wei Rao’s grandmother and the other two were arranged at “Yuezhao Pavilion” with five other families’ ladies—a place the moon could illuminate with excellent views. Looking up, they could glimpse Emperor Yuanjia, the Empress Dowager, and others in Zhaixing Tower at the island’s peak. Looking down, they could see the lake surface and six teams lined up on shore, ready to compete.

This was Wei Rao’s first time watching palace dragon boat races. She eagerly examined various arrangements on the grass.

Old Madam Wei quietly explained to her little granddaughter: “Dragon boat racing isn’t just about boats—they also compete in horsemanship and archery. Raorao, look—six teams with thirteen members each. Everyone must ride horses through those obstacles while completing archery. These scores will determine the dragon boats’ starting order. After the boats launch, they’ll circle Qionghua Island, then land to have an audience with His Majesty and receive imperial rewards.”

Wei Rao understood. Such competitions involved the honor of the Upper Four Armies, Imperial Guards, and Imperial City Division. No wonder even Lu Zhuo participated personally.

Just as Wei Rao finished learning about the schedule, a young palace maid in blue suddenly walked toward Yuezhao Pavilion. Under the ladies’ gazes, she went straight to Wei Rao and said with lowered eyes: “Fourth Miss, the Empress Dowager requests your presence.”

Old Madam Wei’s expression changed slightly, her hands quietly clenching under her wide sleeves.

Wei Rao wasn’t afraid. In full view of everyone and before Emperor Yuanjia, what could the Empress Dowager do? Even if there were hidden schemes, Wei Rao was no longer the helpless little girl of years past.

Wei Rao smiled at her grandmother and followed the palace maid out of Yuezhao Pavilion with composure. Her bearing made the other ladies’ elders nod approvingly, feeling this Fourth Miss of the Wei family wasn’t as terrible as rumors suggested.

Yuezhao Pavilion and Zhaixing Tower weren’t far apart. After climbing neat, clean steps for the time it takes to drink tea, Wei Rao reached Zhaixing Tower.

Zhaixing Tower had an octagonal pavilion structure with no windows on eight sides, offering views of the entire Imperial City and beyond.

The Emperor and Empress Dowager occupied the main seats. On the left sat the Empress and three consorts; on the right were Prince Duan and his wife, Prince Jing, and Prince Fu.

For Wei Rao, among all present, there wasn’t a single unfamiliar face—she had seen them all four years ago, not to mention her cousin, Princess Duan.

Having long mastered imperial etiquette, Wei Rao wore a gentle smile as she bowed to each noble person.

Four years ago in winter, Wei Rao had been pulled from an ice hole, frozen pale with purple lips. After a day of rescue efforts, she survived but still looked half-dead when leaving the palace. Now Wei Rao stood gracefully like a spring flower, her myriad charms making even the lake scenery behind her seem like mere backdrop for her beauty.

Emperor Yuanjia glanced at Wei Rao’s face, then, after she was excused from bowing, returned his gaze to the Imperial Guard soldiers on the grass.

The Empress Dowager wore a wind-blocking shawl, watching Wei Rao appear before her like a budding peony, fresh and delicate. A flash of hatred crossed her deep-set eyes.

Having fought in the harem for decades, she had eliminated everyone she found displeasing. Only Shou’an Jun, Xiao Zhou Shi, and Wei Rao had repeatedly escaped her schemes. Shou’an Jun and Xiao Zhou Shi were deeply scheming—escaping showed their abilities. But Wei Rao, a girl with only beauty, how had she avoided being harmed by those two assassins?

The people she sent out still had no news. Had they fled after failing, or met with misfortune?

The Empress Dowager couldn’t figure it out.

She had called Wei Rao here to read something from her face, but the little vixen acted as if nothing had happened.

“Four years unseen—has Raorao’s health recovered?” The Empress Dowager smiled and beckoned Wei Rao to her side.

Wei Rao said gratefully, “Thanks to your blessing, there are no problems now.”

The Empress Dowager took Wei Rao’s hand—that small hand was fair and tender, white as fine jade without blemish. By comparison, the Empress Dowager’s hand was gaunt with wrinkles and brown spots.

The Empress Dowager released her hand as if stung, coughed, and said: “Good that you’re well. Entering the Imperial Palace makes you an imperial guest. Any mishap to guests would be my and the Empress’s dereliction of duty.”

Wei Rao quickly said she wouldn’t dare suggest such a thing.

The Empress Dowager smiled and looked at her emperor son: “Your Majesty, see how the young lady looks more and more like her mother. Speaking of which, Consort Li deserves a reward for bearing a prince. I’ve been in better health these past two years—why doesn’t Your Majesty summon them back so I can see my little imperial grandson?”

Emperor Yuanjia disliked this topic, his voice slightly heavy: “Mother’s precious health cannot risk any mishap. Let them continue residing at the traveling palace.”

The Empress Dowager pressed her lips together and looked at Wei Rao.

Wei Rao obediently lowered her eyes, neither rejoicing at the Empress Dowager’s words nor disappointed by Emperor Yuanjia’s refusal.

The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes.