Chapter Thirty-Eight
Once everyone was seated, the hierarchy of Vermilion Sand Country became easily discernible. Those closest to Lord of the Nation Feng Suige were mostly nobles and high-ranking military generals. Slightly further away sat the officials of the Royal City, and beyond them were the family members of the first two tiers of officials, along with some representatives of the common people—symbolizing the royal family’s harmony with the populace.
Though Qin Yu held no official position, the Qin family enjoyed high prestige among the people of Vermilion Sand Country, earning him a seat in the middle section. Qin Yi, Qin Yu’s treasured daughter, was always by his side during major festivals or celebrations. After Feng Qishan took his seat, he noticed the empty spot beside Qin Yu and glanced around, asking, “Where has that little girl Qin Yi gone?”
“Lord of the Nation, I’m right here!” Qin Yi called out loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. It turned out she had followed Feng Suige and taken a seat at the main table. “Oh?” Feng Suige narrowed his eyes playfully. “How did you end up there?” Qin Yi leaned against him happily and said, “I want to sit with Brother Feng.”
Qin Yu frowned but before he could speak, Feng Qishan chuckled and said, “Then you may stay there.” Turning to Qin Yu, he added, “Qin Yi has always clung to Suige since childhood. Today is Suige’s birthday—let the youngsters enjoy themselves together. I envy you! With Xiyang absent, I’ll have far less amusement.”
The consort adorned with a phoenix hairpin smiled lightly. “Ever since Xiyang married, the Lord of the Nation has been pining for her, always stealing extra glances at other people’s daughters.” The consort wearing golden flowers covered her mouth and giggled. “Then why doesn’t Jing Fei bear the Lord of the Nation a princess…?” Feng Qishan cast her a cool glance. “Consort Zhuang seems in high spirits today?” Consort Zhuang immediately paled and fell silent.
Jing Fei’s face flushed red and white in turns. Though deeply favored by Feng Qishan, she had never conceived, and while he did not mind, her inability to bear children remained her greatest sorrow. Consort Zhuang had always been at odds with her, and had Feng Qishan not intervened, she would never have missed an opportunity to humiliate Jing Fei in public.
With a coy flicker of her eyes, Jing Fei said sweetly, “Consort Zhuang jests. The Imperial Son and Regent is newly wed—perhaps joyous news will arrive in a few days.” Feng Suige, who had been occupied with Qin Yi, frowned at Jing Fei upon hearing this, while Yixiao silently sipped his wine as if he had heard nothing.
Consort Zhuang’s attention was indeed diverted. Seeing Yixiao’s indifferent demeanor, she feigned a smile and teased, “On the day the Imperial Son announced his wedding, how many noble ladies in Vermilion Sand’s Royal City must have shattered their hearts? Many have been secretly inquiring about the peerless beauty who captured his heart.” She paused, sweeping her gaze around the room, ensuring most were listening intently before turning her eyes back to Yixiao.
While she spoke, Yixiao had peeled an orange. Just as he looked up at her, their eyes met—Consort Zhuang’s brimming with provocation. Holding her gaze for a moment, Yixiao suddenly opened his mouth wide and, to her astonishment, stuffed half the orange inside, chewing slowly with puffed cheeks.
A sputtering sound came from the opposite seats as someone seemed to have choked on their drink. Feng Suige coughed violently, bending over the table, while Qin Yi patted his back in confusion, glancing at Yixiao.Yixiao had already swallowed the orange smoothly. Amidst the astonished gasps of the noble ladies, she nonchalantly wiped the juice from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, never once breaking eye contact with Consort Zhuang throughout the entire act.
Consort Jing had long since collapsed into laughter in Feng Qishan's embrace. While gently patting her back, Feng Qishan watched Fu Yixiao's every move with an amused smirk. Seeing everyone struggling to suppress their laughter, Consort Zhuang's expression darkened further. She sneered, "How... unique. I've heard that those with exceptional talent often behave eccentrically. It seems the Minor Imperial Concubine is no exception—very well. Since today marks the shared birthday celebration of the Imperial Son and the Minor Imperial Concubine, why not showcase a skill or two?"
Yixiao brushed the crumbs from her hands and stood up without a word, as if waiting for the challenge. Consort Zhuang commanded a nearby attendant, "Fetch my zither." "Yixiao is clumsy of hand and mind—I cannot play," Yixiao replied, her tone sharp and her expression slightly cold.
"Oh, is that so?" Consort Zhuang's face lit with triumph. "What a pity. But seeing how graceful your figure is, if you cannot play music, perhaps you could demonstrate a dance for us?" "Never learned to dance," came the terse reply.
"Well then, we have musicians and dancers here. Why not grace us with your heavenly voice—" Before she could finish, Yixiao cut in, "Tone-deaf."
Interrupted, Consort Zhuang only grew more excited. "I shall have someone bring ink and brushes for you to—" "Illiterate," Yixiao retorted, her impatience now evident.
The murmurs from the banquet below grew louder. Consort Zhuang, now laughing heartily, rose to her feet. "Just what exactly can you do, Minor Imperial Concubine? Out with it!"
"What I can do, you wouldn’t wish to see—nor would the Lord of the Nation permit it," Yixiao said coldly. Instantly, all eyes turned to Feng Qishan, who wore an intrigued smile. "I am quite curious myself. If it’s not excessive, I shall allow it."
Yixiao replied calmly, "It won’t be. I need a powerful bow and five sturdy arrows." The crowd erupted in shock. Feng Suige leaned in to remind her in a low voice, "The Lord of the Nation is present—weapons are forbidden here..."
"Granted," Feng Qishan boomed, and the hall fell silent. A guard from outside stepped forward hesitantly, holding the requested bow and arrows, unsure whether to hand them over. But Fu Yixiao had already strode forward and seized the bow.
"Consort Zhuang, stand straight—and steady!" Yixiao tested the weight of the bow, then plucked an arrow from the guard’s grasp.
The color drained from Consort Zhuang’s face as she shrank back toward Feng Qishan in terror. "What are you doing—?"
Amidst the crowd’s gasps, Feng Suige leapt to his feet and lunged forward. But Yixiao had already nocked the arrow and drawn the bowstring taut. The guard holding the arrows reacted swiftly—seeing no time to draw his blade, he pressed the tip of an arrow against Yixiao’s back in desperation. Meanwhile, several attendants rushed to shield Feng Qishan and the two consorts, one daring to shout, "Put down that bow at once!"
"The Lord of the Nation just granted permission," Yixiao said, her grip steady, utterly ignoring the sharp point at her back. "Consort Zhuang, step away from His Majesty. If any mishap occurs, I fear I cannot bear the responsibility."
Feng Suige, standing nearby, glared at her for a long moment before realizing her stubbornness. He turned his gaze to the high seat. Feng Qishan’s expression remained unreadable as he signaled for everyone to stay calm. "What do you intend to do to Consort Zhuang?" he asked."Five arrows, five golden flowers," Yixiao said simply. "If Consort Zhuang is harmed, Yixiao will pay with her life—no complaints!"
"Good!" "No!" Feng Qishan and Feng Suige's voices rang out simultaneously.
Silence.
The palace attendants slowly retreated to their positions, and the guards who had drawn their arrows hesitated before lowering their weapons.
A vein bulged on Feng Suige's neck as he clenched his jaw, holding back for a long moment before finally exhaling sharply and stepping aside.
Under Feng Qishan's piercing glare, Consort Zhuang shakily rose to her feet and stood to the side, all traces of her former arrogance gone, replaced by a pitiful look of resignation.
"One," Yixiao counted cheerfully, though her hand on the bowstring remained steady. Consort Zhuang's legs suddenly gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Just as Feng Qishan was about to scold her, the bowstring twanged—the arrow shot like lightning through Consort Zhuang's hairpin, knocking off the first golden flower.
Dead silence.
The guards behind Yixiao stood frozen in shock, only realizing after a long pause that they were meant to place the second arrow in Yixiao's outstretched palm.
"Get up now!" Feng Qishan roared. "To be frightened like this—utterly useless!" Consort Zhuang was so terrified she couldn't even cry, struggling several times before the attendants helped her stand.
Before the attendants could fully steady her, Yixiao's second arrow was already loosed, striking down the second golden flower with a crisp snap. Yixiao smiled faintly. "Two," she said, accepting the third arrow.
"M-my Lord," a servant stammered, "Consort Zhuang... she's fainted."
OpenNovel