Becoming the Queen by Serving as Prime Minister | Chapter 33 | The Matriarch's Strange Habit | Novela.app

Chapter 34 - The Matriarch's Strange Habit The moonlight that evening was exceptionally fine, casting silver threads through the lattice of the window and painting the floor with a mosaic of shifting shadows. Within the dim sanctuary of the bedchamber, Yin Zhuli’s fingers closed around the "rogue general" that was currently mounting a spirited challenge against her. She leaned down, her breath warm against the hollow of Shen Tingjiao’s throat as she pressed a lingering kiss there. Shen Tingjiao let out a low, breathless hum. His robes had long since fallen into disarray, revealing the pale, jade-like expanse of his chest. Yin Zhuli’s hand slid beneath the thin silk of his inner garment, her fingertips tracing the contours of his skin with a deliberate slowness that ignited a trail of prickling heat and sudden tremors. He felt a sense of bewildered intoxication. He wondered what sort of sorcery resided in those fingertips; with only the slightest provocation, she could send his very soul adrift. His breathing grew ragged, and with a hesitant, trembling hand, he reached out to undo the simple ties of Yin Zhuli’s white shift. She paused for a heartbeat, a flicker of hesitation crossing her features, but she did not pull away. Encouraged, he worked with painstaking care to loosen the knots. From his position beneath her, he looked up at her face. Her features lacked the soft, delicate lines typical of noble ladies; instead, her jaw was set with a certain hardness, and the corners of her lips were perpetually curved into a faint, enigmatic smirk. In this moment, as she allowed him to disrobe her, her eyes held no trace of reluctance. To him, it felt like a momentous beginning. As the silk fell away and the moonlight draped over them like a translucent shroud, the darkness provided a veil of courage. Words that usually remained locked behind his pride finally found their way out. "Zhuli... do you like me?" "Hmm..." The Great Matriarch of the Yin family seemed to actually weigh the question. "Your Grace, if you were to favor me with another song, perhaps I might find myself liking you a bit more..." Shen Tingjiao’s brow furrowed. She was teasing him, driving him to the brink of madness with her touch, yet he could hardly believe his ears. "Now? You want me to sing... now?" Yin Zhuli pressed a kiss to his chest, her voice a low, seductive purr. "Go on." The Young Prince felt his most vulnerable point held firmly in her grasp. Looking into her eyes, which shimmered like autumn pools, and still feeling the lingering heat of the wine in his veins, his intended refusal died in his throat. "What... what do you wish to hear?" Yin Zhuli nipped playfully at the rosy peak of his breast. "Whatever Your Grace chooses to sing, I shall listen." Shen Tingjiao rested his hands upon her shoulders, his lips pursing in a momentary flash of bashfulness before he began to sing in a low, melodic voice. "To describe the beauty of Baling, through the ages, it stands south of the mountains. Lake Dongting lies before the eyes, swallowing the distant mountain colors and bowing to the Great Yangtze..." As the night deepened, his voice remained hushed, the lyrics carrying the mournful, lingering undertones of a Qin opera, which only added to the soul-stirring resonance of the melody. The moonlight seemed to ripple in time with his song, and the bed curtains swayed gently. He fought to keep his breath steady as he continued, "Vast and boundless, the refreshing air flows north to the Wu Gorges and south to the furthest reaches of the Xiao and Xiang rivers..." Her cool fingertips wandered across the bare expanse of his back. He realized that in this state, she was far more receptive to his touch. Yin Zhuli had already guided the "enemy general" to the narrow mountain pass. He gritted his teeth against the surging tide of desire, his voice dropping to a haunting, winding cadence. "Poets and exiled officials alike find their spirits moved by the sight." The world beyond the bed vanished. His skin was slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and his heart thundered like the bore of the Qiantang River. He moved in harmony with her rhythm, his voice never faltering. "Gilded scales swim, the iris on the shore is fragrant, and the gulls soar. Ten thousand acres of emerald waves, where the sky and water merge into a single light." In his mind’s eye, the landscapes of the Ba and Shu regions, of Dongting and Yueyang, seemed to manifest. Sky and water became one, and he felt himself tossed upon the waves. Helplessly, he gripped her shoulders, his fingernails leaving faint red marks upon her back. "The bright moon floats like gold for ten thousand miles; holding a cup of wine atop the tower, the joy is boundless and overflowing." It felt as though his very life force was being spent, a tide rising over his head, yet he continued to fight, to sing. He heard his own voice blending with the moonlight. Flowers seemed to bloom in the darkness before his eyes. What did victory or defeat matter? What were imperial ambitions or the fate of the realm compared to the warmth of this single night beneath the quilts? "Who knows of sorrow or joy? Honor and disgrace are both forgotten." He pressed his hands firmly against her shoulders, fearing that the violent tremors of his body would break the stability of his song. Tonight, the narrow path was as tight as ever, yet it seemed more welcoming than before. Drenched in sweat, he hummed the final refrain over and over. "Who knows of sorrow or joy? Honor and disgrace are both forgotten." The afterglow of the encounter lingered for a long time. As he lay back on the mattress, he felt as though he had passed through a small death. Yin Zhuli pulled him into her arms. Seeing that his inner garment was soaked with perspiration, she simply stripped it off and tossed it out of the bed. "There," she said with a chuckle. "That should keep you well-behaved for a while." He lay in her embrace for the better part of the night, motionless. Yin Zhuli assumed he was merely exhausted and gently patted his back to lull him to sleep. In truth, he simply could not bear to let go of the feeling of her closeness. Eventually, his frail constitution gave way to sleep, and he did not wake until dawn. The next morning, within the secluded depths of Guangling Zhixi. Yin Zhuli stood by the fountain, using a slender finger to toy with a gold leaf that had been carried to the surface by the rising spray. The steam from the heated spring water rose in gentle curls. Nearby, a crystal curtain rustled in the breeze, clinking softly against the gilded eaves of the pavilion. The sound of steady, ethereal footsteps approached. Qu Huaishang appeared; though he looked weary, his attire was as impeccable as ever. "Your purpose," he said, his voice tight. "You can speak it now." Yin Zhuli was dressed in robes of vermilion silk, her long hair swept up casually and held by a purple ribbon that fluttered in the wind. "Why look at me with such hostility? After all, we are grasshoppers tied to the same string, Second Brother." She turned to face him, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn. "The Yin family is currently the wealthiest in the world. But in less than five years, once Great Xing has finished recuperating, do you truly believe the Imperial family will tolerate a mere merchant house possessing such glory and prominence? And the Qu family... you currently hold sway over the court, but the one who will inherit the marquisate is the eldest son. When that day comes... what will you have?" Qu Huaishang stiffened, his face flushing with sudden anger. "The bond between my father and brothers is not something you can sow discord within!" He turned to leave in a fit of pique, but after walking several paces and seeing that Yin Zhuli made no move to stop him, he couldn't help but look back. She tossed the gold leaf back into the water, her smile as bright as spring blossoms. "Second Young Master Qu, it is not shameful for a man to have ambition and aspiration. Why are you so unwilling to admit it?" Qu Huaishang’s footsteps faltered. Yin Zhuli reached into the water and scooped up a handful of gold dust. "I am not merely instigating you. Our lives are balanced on the edge of a blade; we must act. You understand this in your heart; there is no need for me to elaborate. Second Brother, in terms of talent and martial prowess, you are not inferior to Qu Liushang in the slightest. Your only 'fault' was being born a year or two later. Must you spend the rest of your life beneath him? Are you truly content with that?" Seeing his silence, Yin Zhuli’s smile deepened. "You have the ability to lead troops, and I have the wealth. Many of the officers in the army are former subordinates of General Qu. If we use these resources wisely, and the heavens see fit to change the occupant of the throne..." Qu Huaishang gasped, but she continued as if discussing the weather. "You know our Ninth Prince’s temperament. If he were to take the throne, and I were to become the Empress... Second Brother, I am but a woman who knows only of trade. I have no interest in the drudgery of politics. As my elder brother, who do you think would truly hold the reins of the world then?" Qu Huaishang realized he was trembling. He could no longer hide his shock. "You..." Yin Zhuli stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Brother, the Ninth Prince is, after all, surnamed Shen. How could he ever truly be trusted? If the day comes where you decide to depose the Emperor and claim the throne for the Qu family, I could simply be the Grand Princess... Tell me, brother, would I help him, or would I help you? The glory of being a supreme general or prime minister—or perhaps the entire realm itself—is that not more attractive than living a mediocre life as a sycophant in another's shadow?" Their eyes met. Qu Huaishang was breaking into a cold sweat. "Father would never agree to this." Yin Zhuli patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Think on it. I do not collaborate with those who lack courage. If you find that you truly possess such grand ambitions, come find me. But do not dally, Second Young Master. The disaster facing the Yin family is not far off. If you prove not to be a kindred spirit, I shall have no choice but to take the risk and see if the Eldest Young Master Qu has more stomach for it." Qu Huaishang opened his mouth to speak, but Yin Zhuli raised a hand to cut him off. "See our guest out," she said softly. A beautiful attendant in red stepped forward, leaving him with no choice but to depart. The sun was still low when he left Guangling Zhixi. Yin Zhuli wandered through the back gardens, eventually finding herself near the quarters of Zhang Qing. He shared a room with Xiao He, and everything appeared normal. The scent of gardenias in the garden was intoxicatingly thick. She began to practice her sword forms in the courtyard, waiting for Shen Tingjiao to wake. On that very day, however, Shen Tingyao was in a towering rage. He had received a secret report: the Second Young Master of the Qu family had stayed overnight at Guangling Pavilion and held several private meetings with Yin Zhuli. Objects in the Imperial Study were smashed and scattered across the floor. After a long silence, he finally spoke in a chillingly low voice. "Tell Xiao Zhuangzi to tighten the surveillance on the Manor of Prince Fulu. Report everything, no matter how small." Eunuch Huang bowed low, trembling. "As you command, Your Majesty." The Emperor suddenly asked, "Is there any news from Qu Fu?" Eunuch Huang replied fearfully, "Qu Fu reports that everything is normal." Shen Tingyao kicked over a hollowed-out incense burner, the metal clattering harshly against the floor. "Get out." When Shen Tingjiao finally woke, Xiao He was there to help him dress. After breakfast with Yin Zhuli, she prepared to visit the various branches of the Tianyi Workshop, instructing Xiao He and Zhang Qing to escort the Prince back to his manor. Following the "exertions" of the previous night, he felt drained and had no desire to wander, wishing only to return home for a nap. Zhang Qing and Xiao He served him with the utmost care, not daring to be negligent. Xiao He, the long-time attendant who had been by Shen Tingjiao’s side since childhood, was surnamed He. His given name was Zhuang. ***