Chapter 11: Success

Chapter 11: Getting Her Way

Just after one in the afternoon on the second day, the imperial guards dispatched by the palace to escort Qiao Wan were already waiting at the residence's entrance.

Sun Lianhai, needing to remain in the palace to attend to the emperor, sent a young eunuch named Chen Qi in his stead.

Today, Qiao Wan had styled her hair into an elegant "Morning Clouds Near Fragrance" chignon, adorned with a red jade pearl dangling hairpin. Her cheeks were lightly powdered, and she wore a flamboyant crimson cloak, though her entire face was nestled within a snow-white fox fur collar.

As she walked, the hairpin and cloak rustled and swayed, lending her an air of vitality and liveliness.

The carriage awaited outside the residence. Qiao Wan stepped out briskly, but her brow furrowed tightly when she saw the leader of the imperial guards waiting by the gate.

In front of the carriage, a man clad in the silver armor of the imperial guards lazily rode a red-maned stallion—none other than Jing Lan.

Jing Lan’s expression was grim.

Who would have thought that he, the esteemed Major General of the Jing family and Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guards, would be assigned to escort someone—and worse, to escort Qiao Wan into the palace.

After waiting for the time it takes a stick of incense to burn, there was finally movement. Jing Lan turned his head impatiently to look.

But at the sight of Qiao Wan, he paused. Even he was drawn to the vibrant energy she exuded, stealing a few extra glances before silently scoffing to himself—clothes really do make the person!

Still, they were in public, and considering how effective the white jade ointment had been previously, Jing Lan loosened his reins and cupped his hands in salute to Qiao Wan. "Your subject pays respects to Princess Changle."

Qiao Wan retorted irritably, "Why is it you?"

Hearing her tone, Jing Lan’s temper flared. He raised an eyebrow and adopted a submissive posture. "We played finger-guessing games to decide who would go to Princess Zhaoyang’s estate. I lost, so I had no choice but to come escort Princess Changle into the palace."

"Major General Jing is joking again," Chen Qi, standing nearby, paled in fright and hurriedly explained. "Your Highness, it was His Majesty who ordered Major General Jing to escort you into the palace. Princess Zhaoyang entered the palace yesterday to accompany the Consort."

Qiao Wan nodded in understanding, then shot Jing Lan a sidelong glance and snorted. "I’d rather believe Major General Jing lost at finger-guessing. After all…"

With that, she walked toward the carriage. As she passed Jing Lan, she looked up and gave him a radiant smile. Before he could react, she leisurely tossed out a remark in a voice only the two of them could hear: "Little good-for-nothing."

Having said that, she swiftly entered the carriage.

Jing Lan’s expression darkened. He glared at the tightly shut carriage door and sullenly led the way on horseback.

The interior of the carriage was luxurious, with a small brazier burning and several plates of pastries placed on a small table.

But Qiao Wan was in no mood to appreciate any of it. Resting her chin on one hand and idly toying with the blue porcelain bottle containing the pills with the other, she gazed boredly at the winter scenery outside through the slightly open window.

Yicui watched her with deep concern.

After some time, faint sounds of guards conducting inspections could be heard outside. Yicui whispered, "Your Highness, we’re almost there."

Qiao Wan snapped out of her thoughts, smiled at Yicui, opened the blue porcelain bottle, and poured out four or five pills. A strong medicinal odor wafted out.

"Your Highness…" Yicui called out to her with concern.

Qiao Wan raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly. "Don’t worry, it’s fine."

She tossed all the pills into her mouth at once. A bitter taste spread through her mouth, followed by a surge of coldness in her chest that clashed with the original dry heat, making her breath catch.

Qiao Wan quickly picked up a piece of pear blossom pastry nearby and took a bite. The sweetness masked the bitterness, but her chest still felt stifled, both cold and hot.

"I’ll walk in later. You wait outside the palace gates for Mu Chi," Qiao Wan placed the blue porcelain bottle in Yicui’s hand. "Wait for me to come out."

Before Yicui could respond, Jing Lan’s stiff voice suddenly came from outside the carriage. "Princess Changle."

Startled, Qiao Wan hurriedly patted her chest and waved away the lingering medicinal smell in the carriage before opening the window. "Major General Jing, what is it?"

"We’ve arrived," Jing Lan said stiffly. "Horses aren’t allowed in the palace. I can only escort you this far."

Qiao Wan was baffled. "Why are you telling me this?" In the past, when the imperial guards came to escort her, they had never made such a fuss.

Jing Lan pressed his lips together, finally squeezing out after a long pause, "I beg Princess Changle not to mention the matter of the marriage decree."

He had thought it over during the journey. Even if she adored him, he would never betray his own marriage prospects. It was better to swallow his pride and discuss it properly with her.

Qiao Wan grew even more puzzled. "Naturally."

She was doing everything she could to avoid the marriage decree; why would she bring it up herself?

Seeing Qiao Wan agree, Jing Lan breathed a sigh of relief, cupped his hands in salute, and said, "I take my leave."

With that, he grabbed the reins with one hand and was about to leave when he seemed to remember something. Turning back, he said, "Your Highness, there’s residue on your lips."

Qiao Wan: "…"

*

Lin Hua Palace.

Sun Lianhai, holding a purple sandalwood box, trotted quickly to the outside of the hall, cleared his throat, and called out, "Your Majesty."

A voice soon responded from within, "Enter."

Sun Lianhai bowed his head and approached the imperial chair. "Your Majesty, as per your instructions, Taoist Zhang has increased the dosage of the elixir this time. It is more potent than before, but its effects will also be more pronounced. Consuming it will ensure Your Majesty’s imperial health and boundless longevity."

Qiao Heng opened the wooden box, inhaling the faint fragrance that was stronger than usual. A hint of delight flickered in his eyes. "I truly have been feeling more energetic lately. Tell him I will reward him handsomely."

Sun Lianhai hurriedly acknowledged the order and added, "Taoist Zhang also mentioned that this elixir should be tested to ensure its safety before Your Majesty consumes it. If anything goes wrong, he can adjust the dosage and refine it again."

As soon as Sun Lianhai’s voice fell, guards from outside entered to report, "Your Majesty, Princess Changle requests an audience."

Qiao Heng glanced at Sun Lianhai, who immediately understood, put away the wooden box, and turned to welcome her.

Before he could even step out of the hall, his greeting of "This old servant pays respects to Princess Changle" was cut short as Qiao Wan’s figure appeared at the doorway. She rushed in energetically, calling out cheerfully, "Father!"

Qiao Heng had already switched to a smiling expression. Seeing Qiao Wan, he feigned a scolding tone, "So reckless! What kind of behavior is this?"

"Wan Wan hasn’t seen Father in so long," Qiao Wan ran to Qiao Heng’s side and sat down, peeking at the pastries beside him. She picked up a piece of pea flour cake and devoured it in one go. "The pastries here at Father’s place are still the best."

Qiao Heng looked at her helplessly, frowning. "Have you lost weight?"

"Really?" Qiao Wan glanced down at herself. "If I have, it’s from missing Father."

"You…" Qiao Heng motioned to Sun Lianhai, who understandingly brought over the wooden box. "Your Highness, this is a great tonic. His Majesty, concerned for Your Highness’s health, specifically set it aside for you."

Qiao Wan glanced at the pills, which were darker in color than usual, and looked at Qiao Heng with surprise. She quickly took the pills and swallowed them before mumbling, "Thank you, Father."

Qiao Heng watched her, rubbing his temples before saying, "Little Eleven, you’re thanking me too early."

"Huh?" Qiao Wan looked puzzled.

"The matter at the Song Zhu Pavilion—did Little Eleven think she could hide it from me?" Qiao Heng pretended to be angry. "Going to such a place in public and even buying a male courtesan to bring back to your residence—it’s the talk of the court! You are a princess of the nation; it’s fine to be bold in your actions, but what kind of place is that? And who is this courtesan?"

Qiao Wan blinked. "Father, Wan Wan simply thought Mu Chi was very pitiful. Plus, he plays the zither exceptionally well, so I was moved by compassion. But I only brought him to the residence to teach me how to play the zither…" Suddenly, as if remembering something, her eyes lit up. "During this time, Wan Wan even learned a tune from Mu Chi!"

"You learned a tune?" Qiao Heng looked at her suspiciously.

"Of course!" Qiao Wan smiled. "I've learned 'Yu Beauty.' If Father doesn't believe me, Little Eleven will play it for you right now!"

Qiao Heng glanced at the long incense stick, which still had more than half left, and immediately ordered someone to bring a Yao zither. "Then I shall listen."

The palace servants quickly brought the Yao zither. Qiao Wan recalled yesterday's memory—Mu Chi sitting beside her, teaching her to play the melody note by note. The cool, refreshing scent of his body seemed to linger in the air.

Her fingers seemed to move on their own, playing with practiced familiarity.

Only when she reached the finale did a sudden hot-and-cold sensation in her chest flare into a sharp pain, as if she had been stabbed by a sword. The music wavered for an instant.

Qiao Wan's fingers trembled, but she quickly adjusted.

As the piece ended, even Qiao Heng looked at her with slight surprise, as if he hadn't expected that what she failed to learn at the Imperial Academy could now be accomplished by a mere male entertainer.

"Well, Father?" Qiao Wan's face was a bit pale, but she still opened her eyes wide eagerly as she asked Qiao Heng.

"There is some improvement," Qiao Heng said leisurely.

Qiao Wan smiled with pride, coughed lightly, and moved to sit beside Qiao Heng, but she suddenly swayed.

"What's wrong?" Qiao Heng looked at her.

Qiao Wan pursed her lips and shook her head. "Perhaps I've been sitting too long."

Qiao Heng thought nothing of it and continued leisurely, "I heard you've had a few public scuffles with that boy from the Jing family lately?"

Qiao Wan was taken aback, then curled her lip in disdain. "That good-for-nothing? And he calls himself a Major General? I could even exchange a few moves with him."

"That boy's lightness martial skill is unmatched in all of Great Li. He was probably going easy on you." Qiao Heng glanced again at the incense stick, rubbing his temples. "One of you is disrespectful, the other is a frivolous playboy—you're quite a pair, really."

As soon as Qiao Wan heard this, she knew Qiao Heng hadn't given up on the idea of arranging a marriage between her and Jing Lan. Her eyes widened. "Father..." Before she could finish, a dull pain rose up in her chest, as if someone were stirring her insides with a dagger. Soon, a wave of scalding hot blood churned upward, relentlessly rising.

"Cough..." Qiao Wan struggled to suppress a cough, her face suddenly turning deathly pale.

Qiao Heng thought she was still trying to refuse the marriage arrangement. "What..."

He didn't get to finish. Qiao Wan's vision darkened abruptly, and she vomited a mouthful of blood. It was as if her vitality had been drained away in an instant. Her face turned ashen, and dark, red blood continued to pour from the corners of her lips, quickly staining her clothing.

"Little Eleven." Qiao Heng called out to Qiao Wan, watching as her eyes closed tightly, lifeless. He instinctively glanced at the incense stick beside him, a surge of fear rising in his heart. He looked up at Sun Lianhai, his expression grim. "Summon the imperial physician!"

Sun Lianhai was also frightened by the scene. Only after Qiao Heng shouted did he snap out of it and hurriedly rush outside.

The imperial physician arrived quickly and carefully took Qiao Wan's pulse using the golden thread method.

Qiao Heng stood before the incense burner, his brow tightly furrowed.

The long incense had long burned out, leaving only a pile of faintly sandalwood-scented ashes.

According to the palace servants, Qiao Wan's meals today were the same as usual. The only anomaly was that pill.

If he had taken it...

"Your Majesty," the imperial physician's voice came from beside him. "Princess Changle has suffered internal injuries, hence the continuous vomiting of blood. It was likely caused by consuming something too potent, either food or medicine."

Qiao Heng frowned deeply. "Is her life in danger?"

The physician hesitated. "There is no life-threatening danger, but she must recuperate carefully. It will take about three months to recover fully. In the future, she must avoid anything that overly stimulates her internal organs..."

Qiao Heng remained silent, his brow furrowed.

Sun Lianhai dared to step forward and whisper, "Your Majesty, Princess Changle's health cannot be delayed..."

Qiao Heng paused, glanced at the pool of blood on the carpet, and let his gaze fall on the sandalwood box beside the incense ashes. After a long moment, he said, "Send some guards to escort Princess Changle to Banruo Temple."

*

You hour.

The sky gradually darkened, and the night grew cold.

An inconspicuous carriage raced along the official road, the horses occasionally letting out low, long neighs.

In less than half an hour, the carriage reached the palace gate. A gold-carved, jade-adorned carriage was parked there, ostentatious even in the night.

Yicui stood in front of the carriage and stepped forward upon seeing them. "Master Mu."

Mu Chi was draped in a snow-white fox fur cloak today. He gracefully transferred to the carriage and, after sitting down and closing the door, asked with indifference, "Where is the princess?"

Yicui looked toward the palace gate with worry. "The princess hasn't—"

Her words were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Yicui focused her gaze and saw palace servants carrying an ornate sedan chair, rushing toward them in a hurry.

Not far away, several guards in red armor followed on horseback.

Yicui's heart clenched with anxiety, and she hurried forward. "Princess..."

Sun Lianhai stopped her, instructing the palace servants to place Qiao Wan in the carriage before saying, "Princess Changle has taken ill. His Majesty, in his kindness, has granted her permission to rest at Banruo Temple for a few days."

Banruo Temple.

Inside the carriage, Mu Chi heard the familiar name and slowly raised his eyes. A glimmer of flowing light appeared in his gaze, revealing a captivating brilliance.

Qiao Wan had actually gone this far.

For him.

She was about to be of no more use.

It was time for him to leave.

The carriage door was opened from the outside. The palace servant was startled to see Mu Chi but, remembering the rumors about Princess Changle and the male entertainer, knew better than to ask questions. He lowered his head and pretended not to notice, carefully settling Qiao Wan on the soft couch inside the carriage.

Throughout it all, Mu Chi did not move.

Only when the door closed again did Mu Chi stir. By the light of the palace lantern in the corner, he looked at Qiao Wan's lifeless face opposite him and the startling blood at the corner of her lips. A trace of confusion gradually appeared in his eyes, along with... an indescribable excitement.

He didn't understand why she had done this.

Did she want his admiration so badly?

What was so worth risking her life for in that sickening emotion?

Yet, Mu Chi had to admit, seeing her lying here lifeless because of him brought him joy—a joy he had never known before.

He couldn't help but reach out, wanting to touch the warmth of the blood at the corner of her lips.

But just as his finger was a knuckle's distance away from her lips, the respectful voice of a guard came from outside. "Greetings, Princess Zhaoyang."

Mu Chi's hand paused. Then, realizing what was happening, he frowned deeply, stared at his own hand for a long moment, and finally withdrew it coldly.

After a moment, he reached over and opened the window.

Just then, the window of that elegant carriage was also pushed open by a slender hand. A soft yellow palace lantern illuminated the graceful and captivating woman beneath it.

Qiao Qingni.

Mu Chi watched her, his brow still knit.

Qiao Qingni had entered the palace yesterday to accompany her mother, the empress. Today, as she was leaving the palace, she happened upon Qiao Wan’s carriage and noticed Sun Lianhai, her father’s close attendant, personally escorting her out. She felt a pang of frustration, so she rolled down the window to let in some fresh air. To her surprise, when she glanced up, she caught sight of the man inside Qiao Wan’s carriage.

In the dimness of the night, he was dressed in a snow-white fox-fur cloak, his strikingly handsome features easily drawing attention.

That feeling of familiarity hit her again—not from their encounter at the Songzhu Pavilion, but from earlier… as if she had seen him before.

But with a face like that, how could she have forgotten if she had truly seen him before?

Qiao Qingni hesitated, then gave a slight nod. "Young Master Mu Chi."

Only after speaking did she realize that during their last meeting at the Songzhu Pavilion, she had been disguised in men’s clothing. She felt a flicker of irritation.

Mu Chi looked at Qiao Qingni, and after a long moment, a slow smile curved his lips. "Third Young Master."

Qiao Qingni was taken aback—had he known who she was all along?

She couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times.

But the carriages continued on their way, slowly drifting apart.

The smile on Mu Chi’s lips gradually faded as he quietly watched Qiao Qingni’s carriage disappear into the night.

A long time later, he closed the window and reached a hand to his chest, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"Mu Chi." A woman’s voice came from the opposite couch.

Mu Chi jerked back to reality. Qiao Wan had woken up at some point.

Gone was her usual refinement. Now, her hairpins had fallen out, her bun was coming undone, and a few strands of hair lay disheveled against her cheeks.

Qiao Wan scowled and pouted. "Help me take down my bun." Her tone was as bossy as ever.

Mu Chi looked at her and, for the first time, did not find it irritating.

After a while, just as Qiao Wan was growing impatient, he leaned over and undid her bun, letting her dark hair tumble down.

It was at that moment that Qiao Wan looked up at him. Even in her weakened state, her eyes were still bright and bold. A smug smile spread across her pale face, her right canine tooth faintly visible:

"Mu Chi, you’re about to lose."