Min Ming made her feelings clear now and felt as though she were in the throes of a passionate love with Yin Weiyin. With so much having changed, Chen Yi had become far more lenient towards her.

With time, Great Yin hadn't remained unmoving either. She had learned a good deal under Little Yin's guidance, enough to know how to follow Chen Yi's temperament, even against her will if need be. Thus, before her departure, she met Zhou Yitang again but said nothing.

Even if Zhou Yitang sat in the seat that originally belonged to her as a respectable lady.

The female crown bid farewell to everyone one by one, wrapped her sleeves tightly, and gracefully exited. Her elegant figure disappeared beyond the courtyard's gate, and the smoke-colored cloud pattern on her hairpin glinted brilliantly beneath the winter sunlight.

Zhou Yitang remained expressionless, turning her eyes to glance at Little Yin, who was preoccupied with the precision needed for preparing tea.

With her head bent in concentration, Yin Tingxue had adorned her hair in a reversed coiled bun today. The jet-black strands looked like flowing ink, a contrast that made the silver hairpin more striking in its beauty.

Zhou Yitang furrowed her brows.

Why did everyone have a hairpin,

except her?

Chen Yi pretended to be nonchalant, not sparing his former wife from a previous life even a single glance.

The bedroom wasn't lacking hairpins; forgetting the jewelry he had purchased for Yin Tingxue, he even owned hairpins himself to pin his long hair. If he wished to gift her one, he could do so at any moment. But gifting her a hairpin now would only invite undue speculation about his motives. Besides, it was not specifically chosen for her. Given such circumstances, it was better to patiently await what came next.

Not long later, the tea had been properly prepared. Yin Tingxue handed a bowl to each of them. They almost simultaneously lifted the bowls to drink.

The warmth of the tea flowed down their throats. Though there was still a faint graininess to its texture, Chen Yi, wanting to encourage the young girl, commented, "Excellent tea."

Before the young princess could brighten into a smile, she heard instead:

"Not good."

With those words, Yin Tingxue's delight visibly dimmed. She could discern that Master Zhou's critique was genuine, while Chen Yi merely tried to cheer her up.

The tea was indeed mediocre.

Chen Yi swirled the tea lightly in his bowl and then remarked, "Still, it's much better than before."

Zhou Yitang remained indifferent.

Chen Yi knew she wouldn't change her stance, so he turned to smile at Yin Tingxue.

Yin Tingxue responded with a sly, curled smile, conveying, "I know you're comforting me, so I'll smile just to make you feel as though I've been comforted."

Such were the musings of a girl's heart.

With their tea bowls nearing empty, Chen Yi stood up and asked Yin Tingxue to refill the tea. Upon returning to his seat, he saw Zhou Yitang extend her lone hand.

In the palm of her hand rested a single pearl-like gem, glistening transparently like the luminous Ye Ming Pearl.

"This…what is this…"

Chen Yi stared at the pearl in bewilderment.

"A Li Pearl taken from slaying a flood dragon," Zhou Yitang explained curtly. "Useless to me."

Chen Yi took the Li Pearl from her hand. It had been some time since he'd wielded a sword to slay the flood dragon, and for someone at her level, it was undoubtedly nothing more than a discardable trinket. Yet, she had kept it for him all this time.

Chen Yi's tone softened as he asked, "Why give it to me now?"

Zhou Yitang remained silent.

Everything was left unsaid.

Chen Yi had a realization and teasingly leaned in closer, smiling as he said:

"Are you jealous again?"

The one-armed woman cast him a cold gaze and retorted:

"I am your master. What jealousy is there for me to feel?"

Chen Yi laughed, saying:

"In this courtyard, we're better than Yin Sword Mountain—plenty of jealousy here, each kind different from the next."

A ring of energy rippled outward with Chen Yi's words, and the liquid inside his tea bowl rippled, sinking inward as though pressed by an immense force.

Chen Yi swiftly extended his second hand to stabilize the bowl, barely preventing it from spilling.

Seeing the sweat bead on his forehead, Zhou Yitang stopped at the point of demonstration, saying nothing more.

Chen Yi steadied the tea, feeling relieved—at least he had prevented Zhou Yitang's suspicions from escalating further.

At that moment, a palace maid arrived from outside the courtyard.

Min Ming, now serving as a maid, went to greet her. After some brief chatter, she returned with a red invitation card and brought it before Chen Yi.

"This was sent from the palace. An invitation for the master to attend a private banquet."

Min Ming lowered her gaze and bent slightly, her demeanor respectful yet subtly enticing with her soft address of "master," making Chen Yi feel somewhat ticklish.

Since Min Ming had stopped causing disturbances after becoming a maid, Chen Yi found her far more pleasing to the eye.

Taking the invitation into his hands, he casually tore it open and glanced over the contents. His expression darkened slightly.

Yin Tingxue noticed this and raised her eyes to him, asking:

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing much…" Chen Yi looked at the contents of the invitation several times. After some thought, he said: "Looks like I'll need to take you and Luanhuang to the palace."

The palace?

Yin Tingxue felt a pang of unease. The last time Anhou visited their courtyard with domineering pressure, Yin Tingxue and Sister Weiyang had been frightened nearly out of their wits, and now they were called to the palace—in someone else's domain. How would they even begin to cope?

"Don't worry."

Chen Yi reassured her as he casually patted the back of her head.

His focus returned to the invitation card.

The private banquet was scheduled for New Year's Eve, and the invitation card explicitly mentioned the importance of the Princess of Xiang, Yin Tingxue, and the Princess of Jing attending.

If the invitation had only named Yin Weiyin, Chen Yi might have refused outright. But given Yin Tingxue's inclusion and the pointedly loaded language in the card...

The implication was clear: Yin Tingxue was still a 'sinful woman.' Should this fact be exposed, it would undoubtedly invite countless troubles. Many eyes would be watching Chen Yi and Yin Tingxue closely.

However, if Yin Tingxue's status as a sinful woman were pardoned, not only would future complications be avoided, but upon Chen Yi's elevation to the rank of Marquis, the Xiang Prince Mansion might well be bestowed as the Marquis Mansion.

The Xiang Prince Mansion held Yintai Temple within its grounds.

This was both an overt and implicit threat. Coupled with the necessity of pacifying the Empress Dowager before departing the Capital City, this private banquet had become unavoidable for Chen Yi.

"Soldiers deal with incoming spears; water contends with encroaching soil."

Chen Yi set the invitation aside, contemplating as he took another sip of tea.

.........…

New Year's Eve.

The streets stretched endlessly, lined with palace lanterns swaying across the Capital City. Tonight, there was no curfew, and the streets shone bright with light. Every household's front door was adorned with vibrant red firecrackers, prepared to explode at the precise moment when the sand timer counted down, heralding the departure of the old year amidst the crackling bursts.

The officials had begun their holiday breaks back on the twenty-seventh of the lunar month, leaving the outer court quiet and desolate. But the inner court was a stark contrast—lively, rowdy, and bustling. The concubines long confined to their respective palatial residencies gathered en masse, their yellow and green robes intermingling as they moved through the halls. Ninety-six exquisitely prepared dishes were served at the feasts, accompanied by the sounds of verses recited, wine passed, and arrows tossed. Yet among the merrymaking, there were also those sobered by the anguish of cold palace life, shedding bitter tears into cups of Du Kang wine.

Chen Yi held Yin Tingxue's hand as they followed a palace maid through crimson walls of the palace.

He had deliberately brought his "little fox" with him on this outing to the Imperial Palace. Yin Weiyin had not arrived yet, for as an unmarried legitimate daughter of the Jing Prince Household, it was improper for her to appear openly alongside Chen Yi before their marriage. Such an act not only risked tarnishing her reputation but also implicated the Jing Prince Mansion's dignity.

Hence, Chen Yi estimated that Yin Weiyin would arrive at an appropriate later time.

It had been a long time since Yin Tingxue had entered the palace, and she couldn't help but feel stiff and restrained, staring only ahead and avoiding any curious glances around her. The last time she was here, her mother had been the one holding her hand, but now it was Chen Yi—how strange fate had become.

Before long, the pair arrived at Yuan Chun Hall, where the dishes had yet to be served. On the tables were only bowls, chopsticks, and wine goblets. The hall was brightly illuminated with various lanterns, and outside, there was a clear view of Lianyin Lake, home to thousands of koi fish, one of Chen Yi's cherished spots of pride before.

Taking a moment to survey their surroundings, Chen Yi noted that aside from the silent maids, no other figure was present.

Though this was claimed to be a private banquet, there was no apparent sign of the Empress Dowager, only rows of unoccupied tables.

Choosing one table, Chen Yi sat with Yin Tingxue, and a palace maid promptly approached, serving tea.

The rich aroma of the tea slowly filled the air.

As the delightful scent wafted, footsteps, faint and measured, gradually approached.

Chen Yi turned to look, and there she was—a woman's graceful silhouette outlined against the warm light deep within Yuan Chun Hall. Her figure was adorned in a shimmering eight-layered cloud-patterned coral dress. Her smooth, jade-gleaming shoulder twinkled softly. Her hair was styled in a tasseled coiffeur with golden pendants swaying to her movements, highlighting her refined visage. She resembled a historic beauty straight out of an ancient tale.

The thin veil draped across portions of her exposed skin added a layer of dreamlike mystique. Her eyelashes subtly quivered from the warmth of the lights. At her maid Xia Chan's reminder, her lips curved slightly in a reserved smile as she approached, gradually slowing the closer she came. She noticed where Chen Yi's gaze lingered and stiffened slightly—it had rested on her heightened, supple chest. Her embroidered phoenix patterns almost looked as if they might fall into the deep crevice between.

She was stunningly beautiful. For the first time, Chen Yi realized that Dong Gong Ruoshu had beauty befitting her role as Crown Princess Consort.

Amid the light of lanterns, her aura drastically transformed. No longer the naive girl wandering through Jianghu, she now carried all the grace of Chen Ruoshu as a figure of regal authority.

"This humble woman, Dong Gong Ruoshu, greets Chen Qianhu."

Dong Gong Ruoshu softly curtsied.

Noticing Chen Yi's gaze, her heart suddenly sank.

It was over!

The rather simple-minded Donggong Miss had never pondered the nature of love or relationships, regarding them simply as a romanticized trope confined to the folds of popular tales—never giving them real thought. Had it been otherwise, she wouldn't have stubbornly fled a royal marriage from the Western Jin.

And yet, never in her wildest imagination did she believe that after escaping an arranged marriage from the Western Jin, here in Great Yu, another marital arrangement awaited her!

Chen Yi shifted his gaze elsewhere, clearing his throat before asking:

"Donggong Miss, why are you here?"

"I…I…"

Taken aback, Donggong Ruoshu struggled to form an answer, when her maid Xia Chan helpfully interjected:

"Our lord is to be bestowed in marriage. Miss here is your fiancée. Henceforth, Xia Chan must call you lord husband!"

Yin Tingxue: "?"

The little fox at his side, uncertain she had heard correctly, widened her eyes in disbelief.

With her head slightly bowed, Donggong Ruoshu gingerly replied, "Yes..."

Yin Tingxue subtly knitted her brows, a faint unease clouding her expression.

Yet Xia Chan stepped forward and pulled out a chair for Donggong Ruoshu to take a seat, coincidentally directly across from Chen Yi.

Faced with this scene, Chen Yi pieced together the broader context—clearly, this was the means of introducing Donggong Ruoshu, sparking familiarity between them, and culminating with their formal attachment sealed through Imperial decree.

Everything seemed straightforward and predictable. The solution also felt easily manageable.

It was nothing more than the appearance of temptation, met and overcome by steadfast resolve.

Was this really so difficult?

Confident in his course, Chen Yi relaxed. Whatever trials arose, his guiding principle remained firm: handle difficulties as they came and first assuage the Empress Dowager's expectations.

Taking another sip of his tea, scanning his surroundings, Chen Yi casually remarked:

"Yuan Chun Hall is indeed elegant—not only lanterns aplenty but beauty by my side."

Mid-sentence, Donggong Miss instinctively turned her head towards Chen Yi.

Sitting beside him, unmistakably, was a girl whose beauty could rival the heavens. Dong Gong Ruoshu initially felt reassured by this fact, but once catching sight of a seemingly minor flaw...

She latched onto a detail, a burning suspicion taking shape as she clenched her fist.

He already possessed a stunning concubine, a fact one should reasonably find satisfactory.

But this concubine...

She barely had a chest!

Hidden beneath her embroidered threads, Dong Gong Ruoshu could feel her own bosom heaving, her cheeks coloring with shy tension.

Her nerves tingled wildly yet she began scouring around Yuan Chun Hall once more. Hanging upon the intricately styled ceilings and artwork were depictions of mythological intrigue, correlating well with the Empress Dowager's fervent Buddhist beliefs. Among those murals, she identified imagery tied directly to the tale from ancient folklore: The Asura Battlefield.

Of legend, it was said on high that Lord Indra possessed endless delicacies but suffered from the absence of beauty, whereas the Asura King held boundless beauty but futilely lacked any culinary indulgence. Their insatiable desires clashed endlessly, birthing fierce conflict—it's said sands turned scarlet amidst their bitter feuds, giving rise to chaos known as Shura-haunted realms.

Attentive gazes cast upon by watching palace-maids required restraint. Demurring replaced impulse abroad formal protocols' ordered lines encasing vivid halls either clad between softer exchanges much less aggressive stakes dominance opposing entwining sovereign attraction across Eastern equal marital arrangements intertwined illicit but fascinating overwhelming conflicting still prefixed brimming suspicions tightening faintly carried modest aggressively self-controlled Miss empowered mood blushed dazzling inner修 embodies subtler suspense tension astricted boundaries familial exhaustive extent forcing innate bound commands detached finale grimace humorous deflection easing astonishment acknowledgment/prognostic featuring Flutter climax adorable wherein audience cheers/read stylist illustrative responsive creative absorbing style Erklärung functools thereby modular expanding firm breaths climax reached illustrative thematic cinematic conclusions tailoring cleasing!

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