YCY - 3

Chapter 3: The Lonely Fragrance Envied by Malicious Butterflies

The night was deep, the sky studded with countless stars. The chirping of insects echoed along the corridors, and a cool breeze brushed against my cheeks—not the wind, but something else. With short legs, I clung close to Mother’s side. Ahead of us, two palace maids and two eunuchs led the way in silence, their heads bowed as they walked. Looking up, I saw lanterns hanging from every pillar, their soft yellow glow illuminating the water pavilions and cloud-like halls, casting the jade trees and crystal branches in an ethereal haze.

Unlike the simple elegance and serene atmosphere of our home, the royal palace of Youguo was adorned with intricate carvings and exuded opulence. Truly, it was a sight of towering dragon halls and phoenix pavilions, resplendent with embroidered splendor.

Our group moved at a leisurely pace, and faint sounds of flowing water reached our ears, mingling with the occasional waft of lotus fragrance. The four guides split to either side, bowing deeply. Mother paused, tightening her grip on my hand, and smiled down at me. “Tonight is a banquet in the palace, Qingqing. Be a good girl and don’t cause any trouble.”

I blinked innocently and smiled back. “I understand, Mother.”

With graceful hands, she lifted the pearl curtain, and two palace maids dressed in blue silk knelt respectfully. A long, melodic announcement rang out: “Lady Han Su, wife of General Han Baiqing, second-rank titled lady, has arrived!”

Inside the pearl curtain, soft voices murmured amidst the scent of powder. “Your humble servant, Lady Han Su, pays respects to Her Majesty the Queen. Long live Her Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand.”

Following Mother, I knelt in the center of the waterside pavilion, bowing deeply to the figure seated above.

“Mm, rise,” came a voice tinged with languid authority.

I carefully stood, stealing a glance upward, only to meet a pair of sharp, piercing eyes. My heart quivered, and I tugged tightly at Mother’s sleeve, lowering my head timidly. Just one look revealed that this Empress was no ordinary woman. Just one look told me this banquet was far from simple.

Mother bowed her body slightly, pulling me back two steps, and followed the blue-clad maid to our seats below. Sitting obediently beside Mother, I sighed softly and gazed beyond the pavilion. Not far away stood an island pavilion, its lights dazzling and alive with voices.

Tugging at Mother’s sleeve, I silently asked with a confused gaze. She leaned down and whispered, “That is where His Majesty and the ministers gather. Men and women do not mingle; they celebrate separately—it is a matter of propriety.” Alas, adapting to such ancient customs was difficult. Could a pool of clear water truly separate people—or could it also separate hearts? These rituals emphasized formality, but who could control the desires hidden beneath silken robes? Who could govern the hearts concealed behind proper appearances?

“Lady General Han.” A sweet, soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned my head toward the upper seat and saw a young woman dressed in a lavish pink gown rise with a wine cup in hand, her beautiful eyes twinkling as she looked at Mother. “Xiang’er has heard that General Han fell in love with you at first sight during the Qianqiao Festival. It is said that your rendition of ‘Clouds Chasing the Moon’ left the general awestruck. Might this humble person have the honor of hearing that celestial melody today?”

Mother stood gracefully, bowing deeply, her elegant face bearing a smile as tranquil as autumn waters. “Consort Shu flatters me too much. My humble tunes are unworthy of mention, lest they offend Your Highness’s ears.”

“Oh~” Consort Shu’s lips curved into a slight smile, her eyes flashing coldly. “So Lady Han’s celestial music is reserved solely for the general? It seems we concubines of the palace are not worthy of such an honor!” What a sharp-tongued woman, what cutting words. I lowered my gaze, biting my lip, and stole a glance at Mother.

Mother’s body stiffened, and she abruptly knelt. “This lowly servant dares not, dares not.”

“Enough, Xiang’er,” the Empress’s lazy voice interjected. “You’ve frightened Lady Han.”

“Sister~” Consort Shu stamped her embroidered shoe, her tone coy and petulant. “I really do wish to hear it.”

Looking up, the pink-clad beauty appeared gentle and radiant, entirely unlike her earlier cold demeanor.

“This humble servant is willing to play a tune, if Your Highness would forgive my inadequacy,” Mother said, kneeling on the ground, trembling with apprehension.

“Xiang’er, see what you’ve done—you’ve frightened Lady Han,” the Empress chided, rising slowly in her silver-threaded red gauze dress and gliding toward us. “Lady Han, please rise. My sister has grown spoiled within these palace walls.”

As she spoke, she bent to help Mother stand, her slender eyes half-smiling. “The general fights for our nation, entrusting his beloved wife and daughter to my care. How could I allow Lady Han to suffer even the slightest indignity?” She shot Consort Shu a pointed look. “Xiang’er, come and apologize.”

Consort Shu pouted, twisting her body, and stepped forward to take Mother’s delicate hand. “Xiang’er has always been blunt, speaking her mind without restraint. Please forgive me, Lady Han.” She waved a hand at a maid behind her. “Last month, His Majesty gifted me a fine zither. Keeping it here would be a waste, so today I offer it to Lady Han as a token of goodwill.”

“This humble servant dares not accept,” Mother began to kneel again, but the Empress and Consort Shu caught her sleeves firmly. “Is Lady Han implying that my gift is insufficient? Or does the general’s household lack nothing, not even trivial luxuries?” Her voice turned honeyed, yet icy undertones lingered.

A slap, then a caress; a laugh, then a rebuke. The red-faced Consort Shu and the white-faced Empress played their roles perfectly—words layered with hidden daggers. On the surface, they addressed Mother, but their true target was Father. What a cunning Banquet of Hongmen, what a deceptive Qianqiao Festival, what a pair of imperial sisters. I held my breath, clenched my small fists, and sat silently.

“Thud!” I heard the unmistakable sound of knees hitting the ground. Heartbroken, I watched Mother prostrate herself at Consort Shu’s feet, her breathing slightly uneven. “This humble servant thanks Consort Shu for her generous gift!”

“Rise, Lady Han.” Consort Shu smiled sweetly, helping Mother up, and signaled with her eyes. A maid placed a cracked antique zither on the stand.

“Sister, let us enjoy this celestial melody together,” Consort Shu said, guiding the Empress gracefully back to their seats.

Mother trembled slightly as she curtsied, then turned to give me a gentle smile before stepping toward the zither. The pavilion filled with the sounds of strings and flutes—the prelude to “Clouds Chasing the Moon.” My heart chilled, and I sighed deeply. It seemed Mother’s performance had been planned all along.

The pale yellow sleeves slid gracefully down her arms as she raised them, delicate as a breeze, supple as willow branches. The notes of the zither rippled through the air, stirring the pool of water. Accompanied by the flute, the melody was tender and shy, hesitant yet expressive. The final notes drifted with the night breeze, and the distant pavilion fell silent. Behind the palace curtains, shadowy figures emerged.

Mother’s fingers, freshly stained with henna that morning, danced across the cracked strings, her brows lightly furrowed with melancholy. She closed her eyes, as if recalling the past.

Half her tender heart poured into the zither’s strings, scattering petals like falling peach blossoms. The moon flowed like a silver stream, casting its light upon the distant borderlands. The vast sky hummed with cool winds—did the clouds know her heart?

As the music faded, silence enveloped the pavilion. After a moment, cheers erupted from the distant pavilion, and the waterside hall stirred with life. “Truly celestial music,” the Empress murmured, clapping her hands in admiration. “No wonder the general fell in love with you at first sight, rejecting even the king’s persuasion to marry Xiang’er and taking you as his rightful wife. If I were a man, I too would make such a choice—for beauty over fame…”

My eyes widened as I stared at Mother, still kneeling on the ground. So there was this history! Consort Shu, with her veiled threats, had once been betrothed to Father. No wonder she treated Mother with such hostility, subtly sabotaging her at every turn.

The Empress’s seemingly casual revelation sent ripples through the pavilion, creating an eerie tension that made my heart skip a beat.

A eunuch in a gray robe lifted the pearl curtain and entered, bowing deeply with a duster in hand. “Your humble servant pays respects to Her Majesty and all the consorts.”

“Quanfu, rise,” the Empress said, her elongated eyes narrowing slightly as she smiled. “What is the matter?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The eunuch dared not meet the gaze of those seated above, bowing his head. “His Majesty has sent me to inquire which consort played the zither just now?”

“Oh? Did His Majesty find the music pleasing?” the Empress asked, raising her green jade cup to sip.

“In response, Your Majesty, both His Majesty and the ministers deemed it celestial music.”

“Tell His Majesty that the piece was performed by Lady Han Su, wife of General Han Baiqing.” The Empress glanced sideways, and a maid named Lüqi nodded, walking to the center to help Mother rise.

“Lady Han, you may rise,” the Empress said warmly, smiling benevolently at those seated below. “By my command, Lady Han Su is to be bestowed ten hu of pearls, two pieces of coral, five strands of agate, and a pair of jade ruyi. Tomorrow, I shall request His Majesty to bestow upon her the title of first-rank titled lady.”

Mother’s body stiffened momentarily before she knelt again. “This humble servant thanks Your Majesty for your boundless grace. Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand.”

“Rise,” came the amused laughter from above. “Lady Han, there is no need for such trepidation. Just the other day, His Majesty mentioned how fond he is of the general’s youngest daughter. It seems there is a possibility that you and I may become in-laws…”

What?! I gripped my skirt tightly, biting my tongue until blood filled my mouth. The sharp pain reminded me this was no dream. I looked blankly at Mother, who stood among the guests, her face mirroring my disbelief.

“Quanfu,” the Empress said, her cherry-red lips parting as she turned her head, her eyes curving into a smile as she looked at me. “Take the general’s youngest daughter to Juyue Pavilion. Let His Majesty see her, and let the crown prince take a good look.”

That smiling gaze sent shivers down my spine, as if a venomous snake had locked its eyes on me. My body trembled slightly. I turned my head and saw Mother’s furrowed brows, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t. Silently sighing, I forced a smile, jumped off my seat, and skipped toward the eunuch. Suddenly remembering something, I spun around and hastily bowed to those seated above. “Your Majesty, Qingqing takes her leave.”

“Hehehe~” the Empress’s lazy laughter rang out. “Go, go. Such a charming child. Quanfu, ensure she is well cared for. If even a single hair is missing when you return, I will hold you accountable.”

“Yes!” the eunuch beside me responded respectfully. “Your Highnesses, Lady General Han, this humble servant shall take my leave.” He bowed to me. “Miss Han, I dare to lead the way.” Taking my hand, he guided me out of the pavilion, accompanied by a group of eunuchs and maids. Turning back, I gave Mother a sweet smile through the pearl curtain—fortune or misfortune lay in human hands, and I understood my own fate.

We boarded a painted boat, sailing gently across the warm summer breeze toward Juyue Pavilion at the center of the lake. Above, the moon hung bright and clear; below, its reflection shimmered tremulously in the water. The oars stirred the soft waves, breaking the mirrored image of the moon. We moved with the wind, the boat gliding forward.

Holding Quanfu’s hand, I steadied my breathing and stepped into the palace built on the small island in the lake. Carefully observing my surroundings, I saw whitewashed walls, intricately carved beams, and glowing lanterns—a scene of extravagant luxury. I thought of Father and Brother enduring the harsh winds and sands at the border, their faces covered in dust, while the so-called king indulged in revelry within these jeweled halls. What nonsense was this talk of loyalty between sovereign and subject—it was all hypocrisy!

“Your Majesty, I have seen Her Majesty the Empress,” Quanfu said, releasing my hand and bowing deeply.

“Oh? What did she say?” came a somewhat hoarse voice from the throne.

“Your Majesty, the one who played the zither was Lady Han Su, wife of General Han.”

“Lady General Han?” The voice carried a hint of interest, laced with mockery. I cautiously raised my head and saw a gaunt man in yellow robes seated above, sporting a goat beard. His narrow eyes gleamed with calculation. He stroked his beard with a finger, then suddenly noticed me. “And this is…?”

I inhaled sharply and performed a deep bow. “Your humble servant, Han Yuexia, pays respects to Your Majesty. Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand.”

“Han Yuexia?”

“In response, Your Majesty, she is the youngest daughter of General Han Baiqing.” Quanfu explained.

“Oh!” The man on the throne clapped his hands and laughed loudly. “The Empress is indeed thoughtful—she wishes for me to meet my future daughter-in-law. Good child, raise your head and let me take a look~”

Suppressing my displeasure, I timidly raised my head, forcing myself to meet those crafty eyes.

“Rise,” the thin man said with a smile. “Yue, isn’t your brother named Yueshao?”

“Yes.” Slowly standing, I struggled to steady my soft, childish voice.

“Yue playing the zither, Shao playing the flute—what a poetic pairing!” The king raised his golden goblet and stood. “Today, General Han has sent another victorious report. In Rongcheng, he drove the enemy back a thousand li, upholding the might of Youguo and annihilating tens of thousands of foes!”

“All of this is due to Your Majesty’s wise decisions. If not for your resolve to send troops despite opposition, how could General Han have achieved such great feats?” I lowered my head and glanced sideways to see a middle-aged man in deep blue robes step forward and kneel. “Your Majesty is wise, so wise!”

The sycophantic face made me sick, yet the man on the throne basked in it, laughing smugly.

“Your Majesty is wise!” The ministers collectively rose, bowing deeply.

Standing awkwardly among them, I felt uneasy and quickly knelt. Glancing sideways, I saw a young official in crimson robes wearing an expression of disdain, his lips pressed tightly shut. Clearly, he was someone with ambition, someone who remained clear-headed.

“Enough, my lords, rise,” the hoarse voice carried a trace of pride. “Today is the Qianqiao Festival. You need not perform the three bows and nine kowtows. I wish to share in your joy!” He signaled to those below, and Quanfu understood, clapping his hands. A group of dancers in flowing gauze, their shoulders partially exposed, glided in. Music filled the air, and the scene descended into decadence.

Lost and unsure, I stood below, watching as King You glanced at me and whispered something to Quanfu. Quanfu nodded and hurried down. “His Majesty requests Miss Han to meet the crown prince.” Turning to a young eunuch beside him, he instructed, “Escort Miss Han to Zhuiyue Tower. If anything goes wrong, I’ll have your life!”

Frowning, I studied Quanfu, whose demeanor had shifted dramatically. There wasn’t a clean soul among them. Even with luxurious clothes, rare treasures, and sumptuous feasts, this place was no haven for my heart.

With a grim face, I followed the path ahead. This heavenly palace now appeared to me as a graveyard steeped in decay, its ornate carvings hiding filth beneath.

“Miss, please wait a moment while I announce your arrival,” the young eunuch bowed to me and took hesitant steps toward the gauze-draped pavilion on the island.

“Ahh!” A frail female voice cried out.

“Damn it! Don’t you see I’m busy here?” A roar erupted from inside. The crown prince sounded about the same age as my brother, his voice cracking with adolescence.

“Defu? Defu! Where has that wretch gone?!”

Chaos ensued—porcelain shattered, cabinets toppled, and the young eunuch’s cries rang out. “Mercy, Your Highness, mercy! It was His Majesty who sent me to bring General Han’s daughter to see you. If I had even a shred of courage, I wouldn’t dare disturb your pleasure.”

“You dog! How dare you use Father’s name to suppress me, the crown prince!”

“Ahh!” A cry of pain, and the eunuch’s voice cut off like a broken kite string, vanishing abruptly.

Hiding in the shadow of a rockery, I saw a lanky youth with disheveled hair and a loose robe kick open the door, his face twisted with rage. “Where is she? Where is she?!”

“Your… Your servant is here!” a trembling voice replied.

“Go! Drag that corpse out of there. How dare they ruin my good time!”

“Yes… yes!” The eunuch scrambled into the room and dragged a body out moments later.

“Defu! Defu! Find that Miss Han and bring her back to Juyue Pavilion!”

“Yes!”

With a slam, the red doors closed.

The chirping of insects continued at the edge of the grass, and fireflies flickered in the shadows of the walls. The moon remained bright, the night breeze gentle—as if the earlier scene had never happened.

Pressing my chest against the rockery, I gasped for breath, my heart still racing.

“Miss Han?” A soft laugh came from behind me.

My eyes widened, my heartbeat stopped, and I froze in place. Who was it?