Becoming the Queen by Serving as Prime Minister | Chapter 36 | Smiles Fading Before Wine | Novela.app

The melody of *Guangling San* drifted through the air. Yin Zhuli held a handful of chess pieces, silently facing the three hundred and sixty-one intersections upon the white jade board. Opposite her, Qu Huaishang held a golden goblet, his expression solemn. "What are your plans?" Yin Zhuli placed a white stone to tighten the pressure on the board, speaking unhurriedly. "Brother, you must remain calm. Whether it be Henan or Hebei, our Ninth Lord will eventually return to this imperial city with all his limbs intact. However, I must leave Chang'an for a period. During this time, I’m afraid you’ll need to put more effort into dealing with the Great General Qu." Qu Huaishang took a sip of wine. Hearing her refer to his father as "Great General Qu" felt somewhat awkward. "Stop calling him 'Great General Qu' this and that. He is your father too." Yin Zhuli placed a black stone on a neutral point, merely smiling at his words. "Who told him not to acknowledge me? Speaking of which, it truly is a regret. If the Yin and Qu families joined forces, why would I need to go through all this trouble?" Qu Huaishang tilted his head back and drained his cup. "All these years, Father and Mother have always looked upon Eldest Brother with special favor. You know this. Even if I try to please them in a hundred ways, how could I ever shake Eldest Brother’s status as the firstborn son?" The white stones formed a *ko* struggle. Yin Zhuli moved to resolve it with a single stone. "Can’t you use your head a little? Brother, those who achieve great things must not be bothered by trivialities." Qu Huaishang opened his mouth to ask more, but she cut him off. "Fine, just make sure you act obediently before General Qu and his lady. I will try my best to settle things for you before I leave." Her expression was so composed that Qu Huaishang found it impossible to doubt her. On the eighteenth day of the seventh month, it was the thirty-sixth birthday of General Qu’s wife, Madam Wei. Having nothing better to do, Yin Zhuli brought the Ninth Prince along to join the festivities. The gifts she brought were by no means light; the gift list alone spanned twelve pages. General Qu was currently in high favor with the Emperor, so naturally, many came to congratulate Madam Wei. That day, the Qu Manor was festooned with lanterns and streamers, bustling with excitement. Madam Wei was surrounded by a crowd of female relatives like a moon encircled by stars. She wore a long, crimson ice-silk dress, adorned with pearls and emeralds. Her skirts trailed elegantly on the ground, her charm yet unfaded by age. Seeing Yin Zhuli from a distance, her expression shifted slightly. However, constrained by Yin Zhuli’s status as the Fulu Princess Consort, she was forced to show proper etiquette. Yin Zhuli did not stand on ceremony, waiting until the woman had knelt and kowtowed before offering polite words. "Madam Wei, why such excessive formality?" She leaned forward to help the forcedly smiling Madam Wei up. Still smiling radiantly, she leaned close to the woman’s ear and whispered, "Madam Wei, twenty years ago, by the banks of the Junji River—was it you who sent that final group to ambush Yin Biwu?" To have such words suddenly brought up in full view of the public—even if others had not heard—caused Madam Wei a flash of panic, as if she were standing naked in the middle of the street. This look lasted only a moment before being masked by a smile. "What is the Princess Consort saying? This humble woman did not hear clearly." Yin Zhuli smiled thinly. That brief lapse of composure had not escaped her eyes. She had brought it up purely for confirmation. After all, too much time had passed. Back then, Yin Biwu had fled back to the Yin family and passed away shortly after giving birth to her, never uttering a single word about her enemies. Yin Mengyuan had spent a fortune to uncover this old affair, yet in the end, he had only managed to piece together sixty or seventy percent of the truth. That day, Qu Tianji had already released Yin Biwu. Though she was heavily injured, it shouldn't have been fatal. It was only when she fled to the banks of the Junji River and was ambushed again at the ferry crossing that she sustained such devastating wounds. When Qu Tianji arrived at the front hall with his two sons, the lanterns had just been lit. The banquet was about to begin. Yin Zhuli and Shen Tingjiao sat at the same table as Qu Tianji. In terms of rank, Qu Tianji was a first-rank official, and Shen Tingjiao, as a Prince of the Blood, was also of the first rank. However, as a member of the imperial family, officials of any position had to pay him respects. Thus, even though Qu Tianji did not welcome Yin Zhuli, he could not lash out. Qu Huaishang sat just below Yin Zhuli. He was soon to depart with Qu Liushang for Gansu to escort official silver back to Chang'an and had been busy with preparations. Yin Zhuli sipped her wine. As the feast began and the surrounding clamor rose, ensuring no one was paying attention, she spoke softly: "Second Young Master, there is a grass in Gansu called Slaughter Grass. If a horse eats it, it goes mad. I brought a few stalks for you today." She pulled a silk handkerchief from her waist and passed it to him under the table. Qu Huaishang also lowered his voice. "What use is this?" Yin Zhuli took a sip of wine. Seeing Shen Tingjiao surrounded by people urging him to drink, a faint smile touched her face. "The journey to Gansu is long and arduous. If, by chance, you are traveling along a sheer cliff and a horse suddenly goes mad, how could the person on its back possibly survive?" Qu Huaishang froze, nearly standing up in shock. Yin Zhuli pressed him down unobtrusively. "I am not forcing you. You can feed this grass to a horse, or you can burn it. However, since ancient times, 'a man is not truly great unless he is ruthless.' If you do not do this, it will be extremely difficult for you to win General Qu’s favor. Think it through." Qu Huaishang had grown up in wealth and was no stranger to mischief, but such a deed was something he had never dared to imagine before. "But he is my brother!" Yin Zhuli toyed with the cup in her hand, her smile shallow. "If he were the younger brother, whose horse do you think he would feed this grass to?" Qu Huaishang’s robes were drenched in cold sweat. Over there, Qu Tianji seemed to notice the two of them and walked over. "What are you two doing here?" His expression was cold. Yin Zhuli replied with a bright smile, "Second Young Master Qu and I are of the same clan, after all. We were just chatting. How can the General speak so reproachfully?" Qu Tianji grabbed Qu Huaishang and said coldly, "Go and offer your birthday wishes to your mother!" Qu Huaishang had always feared him, so he immediately headed toward the inner hall where Madam Wei was. Qu Tianji sat down beside Yin Zhuli, his voice like a sharp blade. "The Qu family has no connection to you. Now that you are married, you should focus on serving your husband and raising children, managing your household quietly. The Qu clan wishes to have no further dealings with you." Yin Zhuli refilled half her cup, giving no indication of whether she had listened. "Tsk, how heartless." After the banquet, she and Shen Tingjiao left the Qu Manor. Inside, Madam Wei was extremely unsettled. "Master, she mentioned the matter of Yin Biwu to me again today. She definitely harbors ill intentions!" Qu Tianji took her hand. "To you? Why would she need to mention anything to you?" Madam Wei opened her mouth but could not speak the truth. Back then, she had indeed sent Qu Lu to intercept and kill Yin Biwu. At the time, Yin Biwu was pregnant and already heavily injured; she had thought Qu Lu alone would be enough to take her life, never expecting her to escape. At that time, she didn't know if the child in Yin Biwu’s womb was a boy or a girl. If it were a son, there would inevitably come a day when he might return to claim his lineage. The Yin family was powerful; once she escaped back to them, Shen Wanyan would surely appease her to avoid unrest. If Yin Biwu returned to the clan with a son, where would there be a place for her in the Qu family? In the end, only death could bring peace of mind. But this matter could not be mentioned to Qu Tianji. She stammered for a moment before saying vaguely, "Just... the matter of Yin Biwu being injured unto death back then." Qu Tianji sighed. "Yin Biwu was a rare talent. Had she been born a man, she would certainly not have been an ordinary person. It is a pity that one must eat the Emperor's grain and do the Emperor's bidding. Although Yin Zhuli grew up in the Yin family, she still carries the blood of my Qu family. Do not take her words to heart." Madam Wei’s heart was still pounding. Hearing this, she raised an eyebrow. "Are you so sure, Master, that she doesn't harbor a shred of resentment?" Qu Tianji strode toward the inner courtyard. "What if she does? She is now the Fulu Princess Consort, and she has the King’s protection. Furthermore, the state of Daxing is unstable; the Yin family cannot be shaken for the time being. Even if one wished to do something, it is impossible." He did not mention that yesterday, the King had ordered him to send men to ambush the Ninth Prince in Shanzhou. Swords have no eyes; if, in the chaos of battle, a mistake was made and the Princess Consort was harmed... As he thought of this, he suddenly remembered that night before dawn, when Yin Zhuli had used a torn sleeve to wipe the cold sweat from his brow. Her voice had been clear and pleasant: *"General, do you know why a man’s chest is made so broad? Why a man’s shoulders are so firm? It is to protect their country, their wives, and their children."* He suddenly did not want to recall these old memories. Only those who are growing old dwell on the past. In late July, the Fulu Prince and his Consort set out together to inspect Henan. The journey from Chang'an to Henan was not long; if one rode a fast horse day and night, the round trip would only take five or six days. However, Shen Tingjiao suffered from motion sickness on horseback, and since the inspection was official business, there was no need to rush. Consequently, the carriage moved very slowly. The carriage was luxurious and comfortable, traveling along the official roads, so the jolting was minimal. Wildflowers bloomed in succession along the roadside. Shen Tingjiao leaned lazily in Yin Zhuli’s arms, his robes half-undone. Yin Zhuli’s hand reached into his collar, revealing a patch of jade-like skin on his shoulder—a truly erotic sight. Zhang Qing and Xiao He, attending beside the carriage, kept their eyes strictly forward, not daring to steal even a glance inside. He remained oblivious, pointing out the scenery along the way. He had grown up in the imperial city and had befriended Yin Zhuli when he escaped the palace as a youth, so he had essentially traveled all over Chang'an. But opportunities to leave the city were rare. It was said he had lived in the Northwest when he was very young, but he had been so small then that most of those memories had been erased by his years in the palace. Now that he was out of that gilded cage, his spirits were high. Yin Zhuli had always pampered him; seeing his love for the scenery, she naturally ordered Xiao He to drive slower. A group of over ten riders and one carriage—it felt more like a leisurely excursion than a business trip. Once he had his fill of the views, he suddenly felt inspired. "Zhuli, play a tune for me. In all these years, I’ve never heard you play." Yin Zhuli looked down at the short flute at her waist and smiled faintly. "I don't play, naturally, because I don't know how." The little Prince puffed out his cheeks. "You’re patronizing me again!" Yin Zhuli leaned down, handed him the jade flute, and lightly bit his earlobe. "We’ve known each other for over ten years. When has this humble one ever deceived the Ninth Lord? Come, you play one." Shen Tingjiao took the short flute and looked around. "There won't be any mountain bandits here, will there?" Yin Zhuli doubled over with laughter. "In this region, I’m afraid there are no bandits who could threaten me." She lowered her head, her thumb brushing the corner of his lip. "Except for you, of course, Ninth Lord." Shen Tingjiao swatted her hand away and said no more. He placed the short flute to his lips and began to play. Yin Zhuli leaned against the carriage wall, listening to the flute's notes—sometimes high and spirited, sometimes low and winding. She closed her eyes and actually drifted into a light dream. *"Master, do you think there are truly ghosts and gods in this world?"* *"Why? Are you afraid?"* *"Last night I dreamed of him again. He was in my room talking to me, looking just as he usually did. But when I turned to look in the bronze mirror, I saw that the 'him' in there had no head at all. It was so scary, so scary."* A black silk ribbon covered her eyes, blotting out the world. A soft voice came from behind her: *"Come, Zhuli. Come to Master."* She took a step but didn't dare move forward, her hands groping the air but finding nothing. This was a place she was familiar with; she knew that for about two hundred paces ahead, it was all grassland. But she could see nothing, and she was afraid to move. *"Master..."* Tang Yin had retreated somewhere unknown; she couldn't hear a single sound. She began to panic. *"Master?"* Then, the flute music rose—calm and peaceful. She followed the sound, getting closer and closer, until finally her hands touched the fabric at his waist. She hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. He gently stroked her head and patted her back to comfort her. *"You see, Zhuli? There is actually nothing in front of you."* His voice was low but steady, as if it were the very foundation of the world. *"There is nothing there. What is there to be afraid of?"* Yes, there was nothing. What was there to be afraid of? From then on, Yin Zhuli feared nothing. Tang Yin had felt heartache for the pre-eight-year-old her. For the post-eight-year-old her, Tang Yin only felt a headache. Shen Tingjiao played the flute quietly, his gaze lingering on her. She truly had no defenses against him anymore. If he were to strike with a sword now, he would surely succeed. Yet, the flute music gradually stopped, and he remained leaning in her arms. This was the fox-friend he had played with since childhood, the creditor whose debts he could never repay, his current ally, his greatest reliance... and his wife with whom he shared a bed. He toyed with the divine weapon in his hand, known as the *Underworld's Guide*. And the person now fast asleep—had she dreamed of that *Jade Heaven's Steps*? He flicked the blood-red, jade-like body of the flute with his finger. His throat felt as though a short flute were wedged inside it, painfully tight. *** Glossary Table: