Mo Li

"Prince Li, do you have some grievance against my future princess?"

The entire second floor fell into silence, as if even the clamor from downstairs had faded into the distance. Everyone stared in shock at the spot just a step away from Ye Li, where a young man in dark brown martial attire had firmly seized Mo Jingli’s wrist as he reached for her. Yet, no one present—including Mo Jingli himself—had seen where this youth had come from. Mo Jingli glared fiercely at the young man before swiftly shifting his gaze toward the source of the voice. Ye Li, however, did not look at the one restraining Mo Jingli. The moment the voice spoke, her eyes had already turned toward the straight-backed figure in plain robes at the staircase.

Only then did the crowd notice this man, dressed in unremarkable plain clothes, seated not on a chair but on an exquisitely crafted wheelchair. He had arrived early, and his seat was partially obscured by a waist-high vase, so few had taken note of him. He had seemed to be observing the scene in the main hall below through the carved railing, but now he turned slightly, revealing half of his refined and elegant face. With a light push on his wheelchair, it slowly rotated to face the crowd.

The man seated upright in the wheelchair wore simple cloth robes, yet he bore none of the despondency or dishevelment often seen in those with disabled legs. Even standing figures seemed to shrink before him, forced to look up as if he towered above them all. There are those who, without fine silks or jade, without overwhelming power or retinues, need only be present to command the room—to stand above all others. His visible features were noble and dignified, exuding an innate air of grace and authority. Over the left side of his face, he wore a Hoarfrost Mask, crafted from some unknown material, concealing that half entirely. Yet this only deepened the air of mystery around him, tempting one to wonder what lay beneath—even knowing it must be a ruin of scars.

"Mo... Xiu... Yao..." After a long pause, Mo Jingli finally uttered the three syllables, slow and deliberate.The name "Mo Xiuyao" seemed to carry a magical power, snapping everyone out of their daze. They stared in astonishment at the man before them—Prince Ding, who hadn’t appeared in public for many years. Even seated in a wheelchair, he exuded an air of dignified composure. Faced with this man who was utterly different from their expectations, those who had long grown accustomed to thinking of Prince Ding as a crippled good-for-nothing suddenly remembered the dazzling brilliance of his youth.

Once the favored second son of the Ding Royal Palace, he had been the envy of all the young men in Great Chu. His literary talent was unparalleled, earning him the title of one of the Twin Jewels alongside the top scholar of the imperial examinations. His martial prowess was extraordinary, his strategic genius rivaling that of his ancestors. At fifteen, he had swept through the nations of the Southern Border, invincible on the battlefield. He had once been betrothed to the most beautiful and talented woman in the capital—a match made in heaven, the envy of all.

But his fortunes seemed to have taken a sharp turn at eighteen. His only elder brother fell ill and passed away, forcing the young man to hastily inherit the title of Prince Ding. When he led his troops to war again, he nearly met with crushing defeat. Though he ultimately turned the tide, the price he paid was irreversible—severe injuries, a ruined face, and legs that would never walk again. As if Heaven had not dealt him enough blows, his beloved fiancée, whom he had been betrothed to for years, succumbed to illness three months later. From then on, only a handful in the capital ever caught glimpses of Prince Ding.

If the young Mo Xiuyao had been a blazing fire, radiant and dazzling, the man who reappeared years later was like jade—gentle, refined, serene, and elegant. But how much pain lay behind that transformation? How many truly knew?

"Jing Li, it seems you’ve grown quite accomplished after all these years," Mo Xiuyao remarked, glancing at Ye Li, who was staring at him, before turning his gaze to Mo Jingli.

Mo Jingli’s already stiff expression grew even more rigid. "What I do is none of your concern," he retorted coldly.

Mo Xiuyao nodded in agreement. "Indeed, I have no intention of interfering in your affairs. However… even if you care little for your own standing, you might at least consider the standing of others."

Mo Jingli’s brows furrowed. He shot a mocking glance at Ye Li before shaking off the young man restraining him and turning back to Mo Xiuyao. "Are you standing up for her? Mo Xiuyao, don’t tell me you’ve actually taken a liking to this woman?"

"You know our tastes have always been worlds apart since childhood," Mo Xiuyao replied, unruffled, even allowing a faint smile to touch his lips. "Also, showing disrespect to the future mistress of the Ding Royal Palace—Jing Li, are you certain you wish to proceed this way?"

Mo Jingli’s face darkened, and he glared fiercely at Ye Li. With a scornful laugh, he sneered, "The future mistress of the Ding Royal Palace? Mo Xiuyao, are you truly referring to this woman? The title of Princess Ding and the role of the Ding Royal Palace’s mistress are entirely different concepts to the imperial family. If she were merely Princess Ding, she could be dismissed as inconsequential. But if this woman truly holds power over the Ding Royal Palace…" Mo Jingli suddenly realized that persuading his elder brother, the emperor, to betroth her to Mo Xiuyao might have been a grave mistake.

"Li Wang Dianxia, mind your words!" The brown-clad youth who had retreated to the side fixed Mo Jingli with a hostile glare.Mo Jingli snorted and turned to leave without even saying goodbye. The Qixia Princess, who was following him, looked puzzled at the scene before her, frowned, and quickly hurried after him.

With the spectacle over, many who had been stirred by the day's revelations also began to disperse in small groups, pretending nothing had happened. In no time, the entire second floor was left with only Ye Li's table and Mo Xiuyao's. Ye Li inwardly sighed with resignation—after today, the capital was sure to be abuzz.

Ahem , greetings, Your Highness. I just remembered there's something I need to buy. Zheng'er, Murong, come with me. Hua Tianxiang coughed lightly, preparing to flee without a shred of loyalty.

Qin Zheng and Murong Ting quickly nodded and, after receiving Mo Xiuyao's silent approval, hurried downstairs. Before leaving, Qin Zheng even threw Ye Li a look of concern and encouragement. Watching her friends disappear down the stairs, Ye Li couldn't help but chuckle. Did they really think she'd be as bashful as other young girls? Well, meeting her betrothed for the first time under such circumstances did warrant some degree of shyness. After a moment's thought, she decided against attempting such a difficult performance and instead raised her head to meet Mo Xiuyao's gaze directly. "Your Highness, perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere. After all... this place still has business to attend to."

A flicker of surprise crossed Mo Xiuyao's eyes before he nodded silently. Thus, the two relocated to a private room on the third floor of Chu Xiang Ge.

"Miss Ye... you are rather unexpected," Mo Xiuyao remarked, seated by the open window in the third-floor chamber, observing the composed young woman in green before him.

Ye Li smiled faintly. "Your Highness is equally unexpected." If this man was the so-called "useless cripple" Prince Ding as rumored in the capital, then it was clear just how unreliable the city's gossip had become.

"After all these years... it seems Jingli's judgment truly was flawed," Mo Xiuyao sighed, a trace of amusement in his gentle eyes.

Ye Li replied lightly, "It is Your Highness's attitude that leaves me sighing. To be honest, I had expected to receive a second marriage annulment letter."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid?" Ye Li looked puzzled before quickly understanding. "I'll do my best to be cautious. Besides, the Emperor's decree is absolute. Rather than defy it, why not move forward? There might be a different light ahead."

Mo Xiuyao reached up and removed the mask from his face, revealing the hideous scars beneath.

The disfiguring marks did mar his features, but to Ye Li—who had seen severed limbs, bomb explosions, and worse—they weren't even startling enough to warrant surprise. She merely blinked and asked apologetically, "Was Your Highness trying to frighten me?"

Mo Xiuyao paused, then a faint smile touched his lips. "No, I simply dislike wearing this." Even with half his face ruined, Mo Xiuyao never wore the mask when alone. He was not one to shy away from his own reflection.

Ye Li nodded in agreement. "I don't care for masked people either. It's hard to discern their expressions and thoughts through a barrier."Mo Xiuyao was speechless. The young maiden before him was completely different from what Feng Zhiyao's meddlesome investigations had uncovered, and from what he himself had imagined. Gazing at that serene and composed beautiful face, Mo Xiuyao suddenly felt that Feng Zhiyao was right—Ye Li was indeed a very interesting woman, and the best choice he could make. A woman perfectly suited to be the future mistress of Ding Royal Palace.

－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－

Hmm... After much thought, I still feel their first meeting wouldn't have any intense conflicts. Does it seem too flat/uneventful?