When Feng Jiu’er returned to the room, the lamp inside was still lit.

Zhan Luori was sitting up on the bed, her eyes fixed on the figure stepping through the door, her expression glacially cold.

“Where did you go?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Feng Jiu’er blinked a pair of wide, innocent eyes: “To the outhouse. What is the matter? Are people being looked down upon even for going to the outhouse these days?”

“For that long!”

“Princess, my stomach was bothering me — I had to stay a little longer. Have I somehow inconvenienced you?”

Feng Jiu’er shrugged, made her way back to the bed, and flopped down face-first.

“Seventh Princess — it really is very late. Are you certain you want to stay awake sulking instead of sleeping? Staying up at night is terribly aging.”

Zhan Luori paid her words no heed — aging held absolutely no meaning for her.

But she kept her gaze fixed on the girl, knowing full well that whatever Jiu’er had gone out to do just now was nowhere near as simple as using the outhouse, yet unable to catch her in anything.

Feng Jiu’er turned to face the other way, and only then slowly opened her eyes, looking at the shadows cast on the wall by the pearl light.

Zhan Luori had apparently had night-luminescent pearls set into the wall, allowing the room to be lit even through the night. Given all this fuss, was she genuinely planning to take up a long-term residence here — or at least stay for some stretch of time?

No one knew what she was really trying to accomplish. To be living under the same roof, and clearly not at ease herself, yet why put herself through the discomfort?

What was it that could make a princess of the realm willingly endure such inconvenience to be here?

…

Feng Jiu’er did not know when she drifted off to sleep — only that early the next morning, she was roused by a burst of clamoring voices.

“Court Mistress, Lady Jing Consort has arrived,” Huo Yan announced from outside the door.

Lady Jing Consort? Still groggy with sleep, Feng Jiu’er rubbed her eyes, rolled over, yawning repeatedly: “Who is Lady Jing Consort?”

“She is my mother.” Zhan Luori’s low voice carried from nearby. “Don’t be alarmed — I’ll go out and see what it is. You sleep on.”

She rolled off the bed, and because she had gone to sleep the previous night still fully dressed, she looked barely any more disheveled now. She gave her clothes a casual straightening and stepped outside, perfectly tidy.

Feng Jiu’er yawned again. It was only now that she recalled that the Seventh Princess had spent the whole night in her quarters — and had truly stayed the night.

She fell back against the bed, feeling a little lazy.

The Ninth Imperial Uncle had confined her to Mingyue Court. For now, aside from wandering around within Mingyue Court, stepping outside was simply out of the question.

So these next few days, she would observe and wait.

Still, the Seventh Princess had been out all night — and Lady Jing Consort had come looking for her directly. It seemed this Lady Jing Consort’s concern and affection for the Seventh Princess ran truly deep.

…

Zhan Luori had barely stepped out of the room when she raised her eyes to see a middle-aged woman standing in the courtyard, dressed in fine embroidered silk adorned with jade hairpins, with a single palace maid attending at her side and two guards serving behind her.

Lady Jing Consort’s outings were always this understated — two guards, one palace maid, and at most, a carriage driver.

Inside the palace, Lady Jing Consort was equally quiet, true to her name in every sense: she had always been this detached from worldly strife, never seeking to contend with anyone.

Among the emperor’s sons, she had produced only one daughter. Since she had given birth to a princess, there would never be any question of competing for the throne.

So among the consorts in the palace — including Empress Rong — none paid her the slightest mind. It was as though this Lady Jing Consort simply did not exist within the rear palace at all.

It was the Emperor, out of some lingering sentiment, who still held some small measure of compassion for her. That, combined with the fact that Zhan Luori — though a princess — was truly extraordinary and had made quite a name for herself both within and beyond the palace walls, meant that Emperor Qiwen felt a fondness for the Seventh Princess and, by extension, a somewhat greater tenderness toward Lady Jing Consort. And so, over the many years, though Lady Jing Consort held little power within the palace, she lived comfortably and without worry, in quiet, peaceful ease.

She had never been one who liked to leave the palace. For twenty years, not once — yet today, of all days, she had slipped out quietly on her own.

After Zhan Luori stepped outside, she immediately went to meet her and bowed in greeting: “Your daughter pays her respects to Mother Consort.”

Lady Jing Consort’s expression was visibly poor. She glanced once at the room behind Zhan Luori, and the delicate line of her brow knitted tight.

“Inside… is there truly another young woman?”

“Yes — there is another girl. Her name is Feng Jiu’er.”

Huo Yan bowed and immediately explained: “My Lady Consort, here in our Zhenjun Academy, everyone who lives in Mingyue Court is a female student.”

He placed particular emphasis on those three words — female student — for fear that Lady Jing Consort might misunderstand and take offense.

The Seventh Princess was, after all, a woman. If he failed to make it sufficiently clear that the entire court was made up of young women, and her reputation were damaged as a result, not even his own head would be worth enough to pay for that offense.

Lady Jing Consort did not acknowledge him. She only kept her eyes fixed on her daughter, her expression still very far from pleasant.

“Feng Jiu’er? Why is she not coming out to greet this Palace?”

“Jiu’er overtaxed herself in training yesterday, so your daughter asked her to sleep a little longer — there is no need for her to rise,” Zhan Luori replied, her voice even.

These words, however, left Huo Yan feeling rather peculiar.

It was almost like a pair of newlyweds — a husband speaking up on behalf of a young bride he had kept up too late the night before.

Ahem! Both of them were women — how could he be having such an unseemly thought?

Huo Yan reined himself in sharply, feeling he had grounds to be thoroughly disgusted with himself.

Lady Jing Consort’s expression remained unpleasant — very unpleasant. She swept a cold glance at Huo Yan, then said: “This Palace wishes to have a word with the Seventh Princess.”

“Of course, Lady Consort, please follow me.” Huo Yan bowed and led the way at once.

Lady Jing Consort gave Zhan Luori a meaningful look, then turned and followed Huo Yan.

Zhan Luori said nothing, only stepping along at a measured pace behind them.

Huo Yan showed them to a parlor room, then withdrew with the guards.

Lady Jing Consort’s palace maid and the two guards also stepped outside, positioning themselves at a distance in all directions, permitting no one to approach.

Inside the room, Lady Jing Consort fixed her gaze on Zhan Luori. The fury in her eyes kept rising and pressing back down, yet no matter how she tried, it refused to be entirely hidden.

“Mother Consort, if you are angry, there is no need to suppress it — it is not good for your health.” Zhan Luori’s voice remained, as ever, low and unhurried.

Lady Jing Consort still managed, with some effort, to push the anger back down. She drew a deep breath, and then asked in a measured tone: “Why did you not return to the palace last night? Do you know how much your mother worried?”

“Your daughter knows she was in the wrong.”

“Then what was the reason?”

Zhan Luori’s gaze was tranquil, as though last night’s events meant nothing at all to her.

She said: “Last night, the Forbidden Fourth Army lost to the Dragon Fourth Army. Our Forbidden Fourth Army had promised to host a gathering for the Dragon Fourth Army students. There were activities held in the night, and your daughter was part of them. It ran very late, so your daughter asked the Ninth Imperial Uncle to arrange a place to stay.

“Because it was so late, your daughter did not send word to Mother Consort — for fear of disturbing your rest. Your daughter asks Mother Consort’s forgiveness.”

But Lady Jing Consort’s face fell further at this, her displeasure evident: “You are a princess of this realm — how can you simply stay overnight outside the palace on a whim? If something untoward were to happen, what would become of your mother?”

“Mother Consort worries too much. This is Zhenjun Academy — what could possibly go wrong?”

These words, unexpectedly, only made Lady Jing Consort more displeased: “Then why was Hong Ying’s face wounded? Is that not something going wrong?”