It was the height of summer, and Guangling Pavilion was ablaze with the light of high-hanging lanterns. As Yin Zhuli looked at the brawny "son" before her, she felt a chill run through her body...
Fortunately, the young Prince Fu Lu, Shen Tingjiao, had already approached. "Zhuli," he said, affectionately taking her arm. "What took you so long? It’s about to begin!"
Before he could finish, Hong Ye began to complain from the other side. "Oh, Your Grace, what are you saying? Would I dare start without the Boss here? You really shouldn't slander me like that!"
Guangling Pavilion was already bustling, and this exchange drew many eyes toward them. Yin Zhuli raised a hand to silence her. "Enough. Let it begin."
Six stages were draped in red carpets, with carved floral gauzes hanging low, spreading out like petals. Only the center remained a moon-like white—crystal illuminated from below, emitting a soft, ethereal glow. The lanterns dimmed, the curtains remained drawn, and the sound of a qin began to rise.
The piece was the ancient melody *Wild Geese Descending on the Level Sands*. It started extremely softly, like a night breeze brushing over the water's surface. The audience had to hold their breath to hear it, and instantly, all the noise in Guangling Pavilion was suppressed. The packed hall became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
The curtains slowly parted. The figure on stage was dressed in white as pure as snow, with silken black hair falling to his waist. His slender hands glided over the strings. The angle was so clever that in the soft light, he seemed to be transcending like an immortal, his features blurred and indistinct. Yet it was this half-hidden, half-revealed quality that made the heart ache with intoxication.
The melody was steady and clear. Under his fingers, it felt like clouds coming to a halt and rain ceasing, evoking the beautiful imagery of "three mountains half-lost beyond the blue sky, two rivers dividing the White Egret Isle." Alas, though the room was full of distinguished guests, who among them truly understood the music? His gaze swept over the audience, pausing briefly at the center.
Yin Zhuli’s table was right in the middle, the best seat in the house. Because she had come with Shen Tingjiao, Hong Ye had not arranged for any beauties to wait on them. Shen Tingjiao drank with Qu Huaishang, occasionally stealing glances at her. She still wore that faint smile, her likes and dislikes unreadable.
"If..." He leaned closer to Yin Zhuli hesitantly. "If you really like him, this Prince could consider buying him for you. But you can only listen to his music—don't even think about anything else!"
Yin Zhuli turned to look at him. He had had a few cups too many; his cheeks were flushed like sunset clouds, and his eyes were shimmering with moisture.
Yin Zhuli gave a wicked smile. "Anything else... meaning what?"
Shen Tingjiao huffed in anger and turned his head away. She pulled him into her arms, resting her chin against his hairline. Her voice was barely a whisper. "In truth, to have Your Grace's company in this life is already the greatest fortune of my three lifetimes. I desire nothing else."
Shen Tingjiao froze and couldn't help but look up at her. The corners of her lips were slightly curved in that familiar, enigmatic half-smile. He knew perfectly well that not a single word from this person could be trusted, yet that night, the young Prince’s mood became inexplicably wonderful.
While the two of them were lost in their own world, the qin performance ended. People in the audience began to call out prices. The figure on stage sat with his fingers pressed against the strings, eyes downcast, silent. As the wind passed through the corridors and stirred the gauze curtains, his shoulders shifted slightly, lending him a pathetic, pitiable air.
Hong Ye looked at Yin Zhuli. Seeing that she still hadn't spoken, Hong Ye had no choice but to start the bidding. The opening price was five hundred taels of silver. Qu Huaishang joined in for the fun, bidding six hundred. He didn't have much hope and couldn't afford a bidding war—the Qu family's discipline was strict, and Qu Tianji kept a tight rein on his children. He didn't dare act recklessly.
Yin Zhuli naturally did not interfere with the bidding. Shen Tingjiao drank with Qu Huaishang, but most of his attention was on her—it seemed it wasn't this Yao Qin after all. *Then who the hell is it?!*
As he was lost in thought, the Second Young Master Qu spoke up. "Though this Yao Qin plays marvelously, he can't quite match the superb skills of our Ninth Highness."
As soon as he said this, several people nearby began to chime in with agreement. Shen Tingjiao didn't care for their flattery; he snuggled into Yin Zhuli’s embrace, lazily refusing to move. Worried that he might be feeling unwell again, Yin Zhuli felt his forehead. Finding nothing unusual, she spoke. "Speaking of which, it has been a long time since I heard our Ninth Highness play and sing."
The young Prince was quite pleased by the phrase "our Ninth Highness." After a moment, he stood up and, meeting everyone's expectations, took the stage. Yao Qin was tactful and immediately stood up to step aside. Hong Ye did not dare be negligent and ordered a Jiaowei qin to be brought out.
He brushed his robes and sat by the qin table. After a brief tuning, he lightly plucked the strings. The song was *The Sapphire Case* by Huang Gongshao. The lights were dim, and his crimson-purple robes shimmered with flowing light. Behind him was a backdrop of flawless white, like flowers blooming into snow.
"Year after year on the festival day, the needle and thread are stilled. How can I bear to see the swallows flying in pairs?" These were originally lyrics for a woman, but his voice was soft and melodious, like a stream breaking through ice in spring. "Today, spring is half-gone in the river city. I am still alone, deep within the chaotic mountains, by the lonely bridge over the creek."
Perhaps because he had drunk too much, he didn't need a score at all. He played the qin at will, his eyes lifting slightly to look only at Yin Zhuli in the audience. He was as languid as a cat, his red lips parting slightly. Against the same backdrop, his every gesture carried a completely different kind of allure.
"My spring clothes are worn through; who will take up the needle and thread? They are covered in rows of tear stains."
No one around spoke. His jade-carved fingertips brushed over the strings. With his eyes half-closed, he hummed repeatedly, "At sunset, I unsaddle my horse on the fragrant grass bank. There are no flowers to wear, no one to urge me to drink, and no one to care if I am drunk."
A beauty slightly tipsy, his grace was peerless. Yin Zhuli suddenly understood why the play *The Drunken Concubine* became a classic, and she could understand why, back then, Emperor Ming of Tang had been so infatuated.
In truth, beauty is but a skin, but allure does not reside entirely in the features. It is a look, a posture.
He played and sang as if no one else existed. Every pluck of his finger seemed to tug at the heartstrings. The music itself seemed infused with wine, making everyone feel intoxicated. Hong Ye secretly lamented, *This is going to ruin Yao Qin's market value!*
Seeing that all sorts of gazes were fixed on him in an unseemly manner, Yin Zhuli had no choice but to stand up and walk onto the stage. "Your Grace, you are drunk."
His purple hem spread out, his skin like fine jade. Hearing her soft call, he slowly opened his eyes, which were brimming with moisture. Yin Zhuli took him into her arms and coaxed him gently. "Let's go rest, shall we?"
He nodded slightly, leaning into her embrace as if he had no bones. Beside them, Yao Qin stood silently, a flash of desperate, startled pain crossing his usually cold eyes.
After stepping down from the stage, Yin Zhuli gave a wry smile. "Second Young Master Qu, the Prince is drunk. I wonder if I might trouble you to help him to the back courtyard to rest?"
Qu Huaishang was taken aback. Though he was a profligate, he wasn't stupid. With so many staff members here, why would she trouble him? But since Yin Zhuli had said so, she must have something else to say. He nodded and agreed, supporting the young Prince as they headed to the back courtyard.
Yin Zhuli whispered only one sentence to Hong Ye: "Guangling's End will not host outside guests today."
The two of them first helped Shen Tingjiao settle in a room in the back courtyard. With Zhang Qing and Xiao He guarding outside, Yin Zhuli wasn't worried. She then led Qu Huaishang all the way into Guangling's End.
As they descended the emerald stairs, Qu Huaishang was shocked once again. It was currently the second watch of the night outside, yet this place was as bright as day. Ten "Golden Crows" appeared in the sky, illuminating the entire Guangling's End so that every plant and tree glowed. He looked at Yin Zhuli in confusion. The beautiful guide carrying a coral lamp retreated, and Yin Zhuli led him to the entrance. "Why be surprised? I said it before—we are family."
Qu Huaishang was suspicious. "My elder brother is also family to you. Why did you only invite me?"
Yin Zhuli smiled without answering. She simply clapped her hands. In the tall grass, the hem of a skirt made of cicada-wing gauze with large embroidered flowers faintly appeared. Qu Huaishang focused his gaze and saw a person—a woman. Thin gauze lightly covered her intimate parts, and sequins of an unknown material reflected the light, making her seem almost ethereal.
Passing a fountain, Qu Huaishang’s gaze froze. There were beauties in the pool as well, both men and women, draped only in a single layer of semi-transparent misty gauze, their dances incredibly seductive. Though he was born into a great family, his upbringing had been strict; when had he ever seen such a sight? Just as he was about to ask, Yin Zhuli lightly pressed his shoulder, her voice carrying a demonic, bewitching charm. "Tonight, you are the emperor of this Guangling's End."
Returning to the back courtyard, only Zhang Qing was at the door. Upon seeing her, he immediately knelt. "Mother Consort."
Yin Zhuli’s lip twitched. She rubbed her nose before saying, "Get up."
Just as Zhang Qing was about to rise, she suddenly drew the short flute from her waist. A blade snapped out from the end of the flute, a cold glint appearing as it lunged straight for his throat. Her movement was too fast; Zhang Qing didn't seem to react in time, and the blade left a long bloody scratch on his throat. Once he realized what happened, he fell back onto his buttocks before scrambling up to kowtow and beg for mercy. "Mother Consort, spare me! Mother Consort, spare me!"
Yin Zhuli’s gaze shifted several times before she finally sheathed her weapon. "Get up. Seeing the thick calluses on your palms, I thought you had some skill."
Zhang Qing only continued to kowtow. "This lowly one makes a living as a butcher and uses a knife all day, which is why there are calluses. But I have been poor since childhood; there was nowhere to learn martial arts."
Yin Zhuli stopped pursuing the matter. "Where is Xiao He?"
Zhang Qing kowtowed vigorously again. "The Prince was a bit thirsty just now, so Xiao He went to fetch tea."
Yin Zhuli nodded slightly and turned to enter the room.
On the couch, Shen Tingjiao had his eyes half-closed. Seeing her enter, he propped himself up, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders, his beauty breathtaking. "Zhuli, my head hurts!"
Yin Zhuli took him into her arms and called out for Zhang Qing to summon Physician Yu from the pavilion. She scolded him in a low voice, "Who told you to drink so much?"
Before long, Xiao He arrived with a maid, bringing a decoction to sober him up. Physician Yu had less of an ego than Ke Tingfeng and naturally arrived quickly. After feeling the pulse for a while, he said with certainty, "Boss, the Prince has simply overindulged in wine. It is no matter. Just be careful he doesn't catch a cold tonight."
Yin Zhuli dismissed everyone and undressed to get onto the couch. Shen Tingjiao pressed close, snuggling into her arms. "Where did you go with Huaishang?"
Yin Zhuli patted his thin back. "Go to sleep. Children shouldn't ask about adult business."
The young Prince was so angry the wine rushed to his head. He raised his hand and thumped her. "This Prince is your husband! Your husband!!"
"Yes, yes... husband, you are the husband." Yin Zhuli pinned him beneath her, licking and nibbling from the contour of his ear downward. That restless thing of the young Prince’s immediately reared its head.
***
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