"Come with me." Qin Zijie firmly grasped Shen Xihe's hand and led her through the gates of Ding Manor.
Most of her hand was hidden within the wide sleeves, leaving Shen Xihe with only a glimpse of half her fingertips—slender yet noticeably broader and stronger than a typical woman's.
Shen Xihe disliked physical contact and was about to pull away when Qin Zijie released her just as they stepped inside: "Given your noble status, there will inevitably be those seeking to exploit you. Keep your eyes sharp and discern carefully."
While it's said that imperial censors tolerate no flaws, the most sharp-tongued in the capital are actually the Qin family.
Clearly, Yu Sangning's behavior had been observed by Qin Zijie, who, displeased and wary of Shen Xihe being manipulated due to unfamiliarity with Yu's character, offered this well-intentioned warning.
"You worry unnecessarily, Lady Qin," Shen Xihe replied with detached courtesy.
She had no intention of befriending Yu Sangning, nor would she grow close to Qin Zijie.
Seemingly sensing Shen Xihe's aloofness, Qin Zijie glanced at her, gave an almost imperceptible nod, and strode ahead.
At this moment, female relatives of the Ye family, standing in for Ye Wantang, were greeting guests behind the spirit wall, guiding them one by one to the banquet set in the Lotus Waterside Pavilion.
This was the most scenic spot in Ding Manor—two Waterside Pavilions built over emerald waves along a winding water corridor, echoing each other from afar, connected by an arched bridge for mutual access.
The pavilions were spacious, each arranged with over a dozen low tables. Between them extended a stone platform from the opposite side, where a qin player performed and dancers gracefully moved.
"Xihe Sister!"
No sooner had Shen Xihe appeared than Xue Jinqiao, who had been waiting in the women's pavilion while scanning the crowd, spotted her and rushed over.
The corridor was wide enough for three to walk abreast. Qin Zijie, walking ahead of Shen Xihe, sidestepped slightly as Xue Jinqiao lunged toward them.
Somehow, Xue Jinqiao stumbled and pitched forward, but was caught by the arm of Qin Zijie's maid, who steadied her and saved her from face-planting on the stone path.
"Thank you, Qin Sister," Xue Jinqiao said, bowing in gratitude after being helped up.
"We are not familiar. Do not call me sister," Qin Zijie retorted coldly, eyeing her with disdain. "A lady of noble lineage should walk with grace, stand with poise, and sit with dignity."
"Understood, Qin... Lady Qin," Xue Jinqiao murmured, obediently lowering her head after the scolding.
Shen Xihe had no interest in the spectacle and gracefully stepped past them, continuing forward.
Seeing this, Xue Jinqiao playfully stuck out her tongue, hitched her skirts, and hurried after Shen Xihe, fully embodying her "I hear, but I won't change" stubbornness.
"Princess Consort Ding," Shen Xihe greeted upon entering the pavilion, offering a respectful salute.
Ye Wantang, merely twenty years old this year, wore an eggplant-purple high-waisted gown beneath a begonia-red wide-sleeved robe. Her hair was adorned with gold hairpins, swaying pendants, and a vibrant silk begonia flower, radiating brilliance.
"Princess, please rise, no need for such formality," Ye Wantang said, personally helping her up. "I only returned home a few days ago and haven't had the chance to meet you until now. You are truly exquisite..."
As she praised, Ye Wantang's gaze grew somewhat distant. Moments before, she had watched Shen Xihe's approach—her every movement exuding elegance and an icy nobility—giving her the illusion of an old acquaintance's return.
Up close, she snapped out of it. They were alike, yet not.
That other person's coldness leaned toward harshness, while Shen Xihe's coldness leaned toward regality.
"You flatter me, Princess Consort," Shen Xihe replied softly.
"Princess, please take the seat of honor," Ye Wantang directed, arranging for Shen Xihe to sit closest to her.Opposite Shen Xihe was a young noblewoman dressed in opulence, exuding a languid yet strikingly beautiful aura—the Princess Consort of Dai, wife of the Third Prince, Xiao Changtian. Clad in vibrant red Hu attire, she idly examined her vermilion-lacquered nails as if she were the sole occupant of the space.
This Princess Consort of Dai was a notable figure among titled women—a princess of Xiliang.
After Xiliang’s conquest, to pacify its people and swiftly consolidate control, the Youning Emperor arranged for the Prince of Dai to marry her.
Compared to emperors of previous dynasties, the Youning Emperor’s Imperial Harem was neither particularly large nor small, yet his sons maintained exceptionally uncluttered households.
One prince died young. The Second Prince, Zhao Wang Xiao Changmin, had only one concubine after his principal wife’s passing and never remarried.
The Third Prince, Xiao Changtian, Prince of Dai, and the Fourth Prince, Xiao Changtai, Prince of Ding, each had only one principal consort—without even concubines or maidservants.
The Fifth Prince, Prince Xin Xiao Changqing, had recently lost his principal wife, leaving only two maidservants in his residence.
The remaining princes, including the Crown Prince, had yet to marry, and neither their princely mansions nor the Eastern Palace housed women of formal status.
“This is Third Sister-in-law, the Princess Consort of Dai,” Ye Wantang introduced.
“No need for formalities with me. I am no noble lady of your Celestial Dynasty,” Li Yanyan interjected first, her gaze never leaving her nails throughout.
The Princess Consort of Dai, surnamed Li and named Yanyan, was a woman perpetually on the verge of losing control. Yet, regardless of the circumstances, the Prince of Dai always shielded her, cleaning up any mess she made.
Shen Xihe took her words at face value and paid her no further mind.
This prompted Li Yanyan to raise an eyebrow and cast a fleeting glance her way, though her attention drifted just as quickly.
“Lady Junzhu, I have also visited the northwest…” Ye Wantang, concerned that Shen Xihe might feel awkward, initiated conversation.
The Prince and Princess of Ding frequently traveled and had naturally been to the northwest, where they praised its public order and local customs.
As they conversed, an elegant and delicate young lady approached gracefully. She first bowed to Ye Wantang, then turned to Li Yanyan to pay her respects. But just as she began her gesture, Li Yanyan snatched a teacup before her and hurled it toward the lady.
Unexpectedly, the young lady dodged, and the teacup shattered against the floor with a loud crash. A shard of porcelain flew toward Shen Xihe’s direction.
The incident occurred so abruptly that Biyu had no time to push Shen Xihe aside. Just as the shard was about to strike Shen Xihe’s face, an object flew in from the side, knocking it down mere half an inch from her forehead.
Ye Wantang and Li Yanyan both sighed in relief, only then noticing that the object was a chopstick. The onlookers turned and saw that one chopstick was missing from the table before Qin Zijie, widening their eyes in astonishment.
No one had ever heard of the Qin maiden being skilled in martial arts.
Qin Zijie remained indifferent to the stares, sitting upright with her gaze fixed straight ahead.
The commotion drew attention from the other side. The Princes of Dai and Ding approached together, and the Prince of Ding remarked after a glance, “The Qin maiden’s maid is remarkably agile. I extend my gratitude on behalf of my humble self.”
So it was Qin Zijie’s maid. The crowd finally understood.
Yet Shen Xihe couldn’t help but glance at Qin Zijie. Her own attendants, Biyu and Hongyu, were always vigilant, but neither had anticipated that the young lady’s sudden evasion would send broken porcelain flying toward her.
This was an unforeseeable accident. Yet, had Qin Zijie’s maid not been constantly watching over her, even with exceptional skill, she could not have averted the danger in time.She couldn't help but glance at Qin Zijie not far away. As the lake breeze swept through, amidst the various fragrant spices, a hint of Duojialuo's scent drifted faintly in the air.
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