Forty-Seventh Chapter
Xueying had previously sent a letter to Yixiao mentioning her wedding date with Ning Fei, but considering the travel time, it would have been impossible for Yixiao to arrange for someone to attend after receiving the letter—just as she was lost in wild guesses, a capable middle-aged man, his face weathered from travel, approached swiftly under the escort of the Imperial Guards. Upon seeing Xueying and Ning Fei waiting outside the wedding hall, he hurried forward and bowed. "Congratulations, General Ning, congratulations, Madam Ning..."
"Who sent you?" Xueying interrupted. "Was it Yixiao?"
The man froze for a moment before understanding, then smiled. "This humble servant is surnamed Huang, a steward from the Prince's mansion. When the Minor Imperial Concubine mentioned that you and General Ning would soon be wed, the Imperial Son ordered me to deliver the congratulatory gifts in advance. Midway, I heard the wedding was just days away, so I pressed on day and night without rest, ensuring I wouldn’t fail the Imperial Son and the Minor Imperial Concubine’s task."
Xia Jingshi had also risen from his seat and approached, frowning. "Why did you refer to Yixiao as 'Minor Imperial Concubine'?"
Steward Huang, recognizing Xia Jingshi’s attire as that of the King Who Pacifies the South, replied respectfully, "Your Highness, it is the Minor Imperial Concubine."
Xia Jingshi’s expression darkened. "What exactly is Feng Suige playing at?"
Steward Huang, unnerved by the sudden anger, stammered, "Your Highness, please calm your anger... this humble servant... doesn’t understand..."
The guests inside the hall had already been watching the exchange at the door, and now murmurs of discussion rose among them.
Xueying tugged at Ning Fei’s sleeve in confusion. "What’s wrong with 'Minor Imperial Concubine'?"
Ning Fei’s brows knitted tightly, his expression grave. "The principal wife of an Imperial Son should be addressed as 'Imperial Consort.' 'Minor Imperial Concubine' is used for secondary wives."
Xueying’s eyes widened. "You mean Feng Suige took Yixiao as a concubine, and she agreed?"
After a brief hesitation, Ning Fei nodded.
Feng Xiyang, who had followed Xia Jingshi out, quickly interjected, "Actually, given Fu Yixiao’s background, for my royal brother to appoint her as a secondary wife is already..."
Before she could finish, Xueying, furious, cut her off. "What’s wrong with Yixiao’s background? Are noblewomen so superior?"
A mocking voice chimed in from the crowd. "The Princess Consort is a noblewoman herself, so of course she thinks so!"
Xiyang swallowed her pride and tried to explain, "This is not what I meant. I meant that for my royal brother to appoint Yixiao as a secondary wife, even under our father’s..."
She suddenly trailed off. Opposite her, Xia Jingshi’s icy gaze locked onto her, his lips parting—but his words were not for her. "Weiran, escort the Princess Consort back to her seat."
Xiao Weiran stepped forward, but before he could speak, Feng Xiyang let out a cold laugh. "Everyone knows perfectly well that Yixiao could never be the Imperial Consort. Why take your anger out on me?"
The hall fell silent, even Xia Jingshi momentarily stunned.
Xueying’s eyes reddened with rage, her hands trembling as she clenched her sleeves, but no words of rebuttal came to her. Ning Fei wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and raised his head coldly. "Yixiao and I grew up together. If she were the kind of person to willingly accept a secondary position, she would be sitting in this hall right now—not sending gifts from afar!"Feng Xiyang was about to speak again when Xiao Weiran stepped sideways, blocking her from the others at the door. His voice, though soft, brooked no refusal. "It would be best if the Princess Consort returned to her seat." Feng Xiyang met his gaze for a moment before offering a bitter smile, then turned with dignified pride and walked back to her seat. Xia Jingshi had also regained his composure. "Please, let our guests take their seats so we may converse," he said before leading the way back into the hall.
After seating the pale-faced Steward Huang, Xiao Weiran gently reminded him, "Steward Huang, what you carry on your back—" Realization dawned on Steward Huang, who hastily untied a tightly wrapped bundle from his back and handed it to Xiao Weiran.
Xiao Weiran glanced at Xia Jingshi before turning to Xueying and whispering, "Open it here." Xueying nodded and, with his help, peeled back the cloth wrapping to reveal a square sandalwood box. She couldn't help muttering, "Goodness, they even used this to pack things. Could it be filled with ginseng fruits?" As she spoke, she reached to unlatch the clasp.
When the box was opened, it revealed two thin, aged books. Ning Fei's face showed puzzlement, but Xueying and Xiao Weiran exclaimed in unison, "The rare edition of Poluo An !" Xia Jingshi raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Truly a fine gift!"
Xiao Weiran handed the box to Ning Fei and picked up one of the books, carefully flipping through a few pages before sighing. "Let me borrow this first." Xueying, clutching the other book, glared at him. "No, you can borrow it after I'm done." Xiao Weiran, unusually serious, countered, "Then we'll each take one and swap later." "Not a chance," Xueying flatly refused.
As they stood at an impasse, Ning Fei chuckled from the side. "Weiran, Po Hao ." A chorus of admiring gasps rose from the military officers in the hall. Xiao Weiran, momentarily forgetting the book in his hand, leaned over curiously. "Is it real?" Ning Fei passed him a dark, sheathed dagger. "It should be." Xueying squeezed in for a look. "Advisor Xiao, that dagger is quite the treasure... Doesn't holding the book make it hard for you to examine? Maybe you should put the book back in the box first."
Xiao Weiran absentmindedly agreed and started to hand over the book, then suddenly pulled it back. "Almost fell for your trick." Xueying stomped her foot in frustration, but Xiao Weiran ignored her, suddenly grinning. "Yixiao has always been biased. This time, we really can't let her off." With that, he retrieved two wax-sealed letters from the box in Ning Fei's hands. "One is addressed to His Highness," he said hesitantly, presenting it to Xia Jingshi with both hands. "But it's not Yixiao's handwriting." "It's the Phoenix Prince's script," Xia Jingshi noted after a glance before tucking it into his robe. He gestured to the master of ceremonies. "Hurry up and begin. The auspicious hour is nearly past."
"Was this the kind of gift my husband had hoped Xiyang would prepare?" Feng Xiyang suddenly murmured amid the clamor of drums and music. Xia Jingshi gave her a cool glance. "Perhaps she borrowed flowers to offer to the Buddha, but as long as the sentiment is sincere, the gift itself doesn't matter."
"Sister," Qin Yi chirped, bouncing behind Fu Yixiao with a horn-and-sinew bow slung over her back in imitation of a proper archer. "Why not give it a try? If you competed, you'd surely outshoot that so-called 'First Archer of Su Sha'!""I haven't touched a bow in years. It's fine for casual play, but I'd embarrass myself in an actual competition," Fu Yixiao replied distractedly, wandering aimlessly through the flower garden.
That day, Feng Qishan had agreed to Qin Yi's request to learn archery from Feng Suige. But instead, Qin Yi had used Feng Suige as an excuse to follow Yixiao around every day. The Prince's mansion was already quite large, yet no matter where she hid, Qin Yi would always find her. Faced with those innocent, adoring eyes, Yixiao couldn’t bring herself to say anything harsh—truly, she had brought this upon herself. She rolled her eyes skyward in exasperation.
"Yixiao," Feng Suige appeared at the other end of the garden. "Xiao Yi, what are you doing here too?"
"Brother Feng!" Qin Yi bounded toward him cheerfully. "Isn’t there a Martial Arts Tournament in a few days? I’ve been trying to convince Sister to participate!"
"Oh?" Feng Suige arched a brow at Yixiao. "If you think staying in the mansion all day is too dull, there’s no harm in joining." Qin Yi quickly chimed in with eager agreement.
Yixiao flatly refused. "People join these things for fame, profit, or status. Do I lack any of those right now?"
Feng Suige smirked slyly. "Actually, you’re still missing one thing." When Yixiao looked puzzled, he pointed to his earlobe.
Yixiao took a step back. "Xiao Yi, keep your Brother Feng company. I suddenly feel tired and need to take a nap."
"Fu Yixiao!" Seeing her try to escape, Feng Suige quickly caught up and blocked her path. "You promised to get your ears pierced."
Yixiao retreated another step, forcing a dry laugh. "I did promise, yes—but I never said when I’d do it..."
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