The streets were unusually lively today. Mingyi soon realized it was the Qixi Festival. Lovesick men and women strolled about, chatting and laughing. Matchmakers stood at the bridge, arranging matches on the spot. Red silk decorations hung everywhere.
Mingyi’s portrait had spread throughout the Six Cities alongside Ji Bozai’s, so she was quickly recognized. The citizens of Chaoyang, grateful for being spared from war, boldly stuffed gifts into her arms – red lanterns, paper cuts, sachets, and handkerchiefs. Before she’d walked a full street, her hands were overflowing.
She laughed helplessly, “There’s no need for such courtesy.”
“Don’t be modest, we’re seizing the opportunity,” an aunt smiled at her. “Once you’re crowned empress, we won’t have the chance to give gifts. With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, the coronation ceremony can’t be far off. We commoners offer our early congratulations, Your Highness.”
“Congratulations, Your Highness!” others chimed in.
Mingyi was stunned. She recalled the Minister of Rites mentioning that the coronation ceremony should be held before Mid-Autumn, symbolizing reunion. Ji Bozai had seemed to nod in agreement then.
He hadn’t mentioned it to her recently, likely preparing a surprise.
Smiling slightly, Mingyi strolled through the streets, observing the people of Chaoyang engaged in farming and weaving, becoming self-reliant. She felt a weight lift from her heart.
On her way back, she bought a pair of mandarin duck jade pendants.
Luo Jiaoyang and the others had married and always wore such matching items. Every time Ji Bozai saw them, he’d become displeased, subtly asking her why she never gave him such gifts.
Previously, she hadn’t given him these things because she felt they weren’t truly a couple. But now, Mingyi thought, he had given her so many gifts, it wouldn’t hurt to reciprocate.
The cool, emerald-green pendants felt smooth in her hand. Mingyi smiled, already imagining Ji Bozai’s awkward yet delighted expression when he saw them.
However, just a few steps into the inner courtyard, Mingyi noticed a large crowd gathered nearby.
“Your Highness, please listen to this servant’s explanation. His Majesty is truly busy…”
“Too busy to even glance at me? Too busy for basic courtesy?!” A woman’s voice exploded. Wide sleeves pushed aside those blocking her path as she strode forward fiercely. “I am Ji Bozai’s lawful wife. Without me, he wouldn’t have his throne today. If he wants Muxing City to willingly submit, he must see me today, no matter what.”
Mingyi stood at the entrance, coming face to face with her.
She was bewildered, as if she hadn’t understood the woman’s words, or as if she had understood but couldn’t process them.
Ji Bozai’s… lawful wife?
He Lun also saw her. Frowning, she immediately strode towards Mingyi.
Buxiu’s face turned pale. He hurried to block her: “Your Highness, you mustn’t! This is the ruler of Chaoyang City!”
“Whether she’s the ruler or his lover, he knows in his heart, and so do I.” He Lun reached Mingyi, lifted her skirt, and swung her hand to slap her.
Mingyi could have easily dodged, but for some reason, she didn’t move. The slap landed, numbing half her face and turning her head to the side.
“Miss Ming!” Buxiu exclaimed, rushing to support her. Seeing the redness swelling on her face, he felt doomed.
They had all seen how much the master cared for Miss Ming over the past year. He would seek retribution even if someone spoke to Mingyi in a slightly harsh tone during meetings, let alone allowing her to be slapped. This situation was truly disastrous…
“Since ancient times, the wife has been the mistress of the house, while concubines are servants and can be bought and sold,” He Lun raised her chin, looking down at Mingyi. “I am Ji Bozai’s lawful wife, married with all proper rites and ceremonies. What is she? Do I not have the right to strike her?”
Mingyi slowly came to her senses: “You say… Ji Bozai married you?”
“All of Muxing City knows. We were wed before he became the heir, with all proper ceremonies – crossing the threshold, the wedding night, everything. Otherwise, my father wouldn’t have handed over the military tally to him so easily.”
Princess He Lun’s chest heaved as she turned to look at the majestic palace: “But now? Muxing City still stands, yet he doesn’t return to report to my father. Instead, he crowns himself emperor and even expects Muxing City to come and congratulate him. What does this mean? Where has he placed me?”
Mingyi blinked, then blinked again. She found it absurdly laughable, yet couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
For over a year, she hadn’t known that the man who shared her bed was already married.
Neither Buxiu nor Nanny Xun, not a single person had told her the truth.
She had truly believed Ji Bozai wouldn’t deceive her and thought he could give her unprecedented favoritism and respect. She thought that even if they didn’t marry, they could grow old together.
But it wasn’t so. He had long ago performed the wedding rites with another, long ago shared a bridal chamber. He had coaxed her, and deceived her, possibly only needing her to control Chaoyang City.
How humiliating to be confronted and slapped by his official wife on the street. How foolish of her to have told Bai Ying and the others not to become concubines, to have been a role model for so many women studying martial arts.
Dan Er had said before her exile that Mingyi’s birth was a mistake, that she didn’t deserve pure love or to be cherished and protected. What had Ji Bozai said then?
“She now has someone who will love her, and from now on, she will have everything, lacking nothing.”
She should have known better than to trust him. Why had she… still believed?
“On this path to the throne, I may have to use many tactics out of necessity, but I will never scheme against you again. So no matter what happens in the future, can you give me another chance?”
These words weren’t baseless after all. How dare he claim he had never schemed against her.
Stumbling back a few steps, Mingyi turned to leave.
“Miss Ming!” Buxiu anxiously tried to support her, but she shook him off.
The force was too great; the emerald mandarin duck pendants fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.
She glanced at them, sneered, and strode out the main gate without looking back.
Ji Bozai was struggling with the conditions set by the Muxing City ruler. The palace servants around him didn’t dare breathe. Someone came to report something in a low voice. The servants exchanged glances, wearing expressions of impending doom. They pushed each other, none daring to enter.
“What happened?” he asked coldly.
A servant shrank his neck, crawling in on his knees, trembling as he spoke: “The Princess of Muxing… came to the inner court today.”
He Lun wasn’t one to endure silently. As the lawful wife who hadn’t received an edict of investiture, it wasn’t surprising that she would storm over.
Ji Bozai waved his hand: “Just arrange for her to stay in a remote palace.”
“But, but she met…” the servant swallowed, “she met Miss Ming.”
The brush tip paused, a drop of ink falling and spreading on the paper.
The man behind the desk suddenly raised his head, an agitated aura instantly filling the entire palace: “You say she met whom?!”