After the Ostracized Beauty Lost Heart - Chapter 7

Auntie Du Ruo led Xiao Qi down the palace path toward the Hall of Received Grace, brushing stray twigs from his clothes. “How can Your Highness be so naughty? I spent so long searching for you. You must not run off like that again; otherwise, I would not have enough heads for the executioner to chop off.”

Xiao Qi offered a perfunctory response, walking beside her with his head bowed. As they drew closer to the Hall of Received Grace, his mind became a tangled mess, and a wave of instinctive resistance rose within him.

Seeing him huddled like a quail, Du Ruo knew what he was worried about and drew him close. “Do not be afraid, Your Highness. Her Ladyship has been drinking and is still asleep. If we enter now, you will not run into her.”

Xiao Qi finally exhaled in relief. Feeling the warmth of the sarira bead pressed against his palm, his thoughts turned to Yan Qushan, and his spirits brightened considerably.

He quickened his pace toward the hall, but the moment he stepped inside, he found himself locking eyes with a woman reclining on a chaise longue. Startled, Xiao Qi took a sharp step back.

The woman possessed a pair of enchanting phoenix eyes. She tapped her tobacco pipe against the edge of the couch, smoke blurring her strikingly beautiful face. Even through the thin mist, one could glimpse her alluring charm. This was Consort Lan, Shangguan Yan.

Despite being a vision of celestial beauty, her brows knit with immediate disgust upon seeing Xiao Qi. Du Ruo, clearly not expecting her to be awake, bowed hurriedly. “My Lady, why are you awake?”

Consort Lan did not treat Xiao Qi as her own son; rather, she looked at him as if he were the child of an enemy. On a typical day, she wished he were dead and could not bear to spare him a single glance.

Having served her for many years, Du Ruo knew the rules. She immediately moved to lead Xiao Qi to the side hall to keep him out of sight.

However, they were stopped after only a few steps. Supported by a maid, Consort Lan rose and walked toward Xiao Qi with squinted eyes. Before he could react, she clamped her hand around his wrist. Upon seeing the object in his palm, she let out a mocking, cold laugh.

“Oh, a sarira bead.” Consort Lan giggled, her gaze dropping as if she were looking at something filthy. She suddenly let go, flinging Xiao Qi aside, and struck his cheek hard with her tobacco pipe. It stung sharply.

“I am truly luckless,” she sighed. “I gave birth to a useless ger who excels in neither literature nor martial arts. What? Are you now thinking of entering a monastery?”

“Then go and shave your head early,” she said coldly. “So you can stop standing before me every day like an eyesore.”

Xiao Qi stood still with his head lowered and lips pursed. A lock of hair by his temple had been hooked loose by the pipe, veiling his face and hiding his expression. Standing to the side, Du Ruo glanced at him covertly, her eyes filled with pity.

Consort Lan departed after venting her cold sarcasm, seemingly finding it unlucky to stand near him any longer.

Once she had left, Du Ruo rushed to support him, wiping the red mark where the pipe had struck his face. She searched for words to comfort him but ended up repeating the same old lines. “Your Highness, do not resent Her Ladyship. You know she was not always like this.”

What was Consort Lan like before?

Xiao Qi did not know. He only knew that he had long since grown accustomed to his mother’s mercurial temper and the resentment she periodically unleashed upon him.

He straightened up and rubbed his face, unbothered, then tucked the sarira bead into his robes, treasuring it above all else.

He remembered Yan Qushan saying, “Seeing you brings me incomparable joy. Whatever you want or like, I would give anything to bring it before you for your choosing.”

Xiao Qi knew well that this was likely a lie. But even if it were a lie, it was the first time anyone had ever treated him this way, and it was enough to keep his heart sweet for a long time.

Meanwhile, at the Yan Manor.

Upon his return, Yan Qushan informed Yan Liang of his encounter with a prince. Hearing it was a prince, Yan Liang was initially overjoyed and asked urgently, “Is it the Third Prince or the Fourth Prince?”

Yan Qushan blinked and answered honestly, “He said he is the Second Prince.”

Yan Liang’s excitement instantly vanished. “How is it the Second Prince?”

Yan Qushan asked, “May I ask Father, what is wrong with the Second Prince?”

Yan Liang sighed and explained the intricate politics to Yan Qushan. Hearing that Xiao Qi was neither noble nor favored, Yan Qushan felt discouraged. However, as he lay in bed that night, his thoughts shifted. He realized that Xiao Qi might not be a lost cause after all.

The Emperor’s offspring were not numerous. After all these years, there were only three princes and an eldest princess born of a palace maid. There were no other heirs.

It was said that the Empress was secretly responsible for this, but the Emperor, wary of Yu Zhongqin, could not investigate deeply.

While Xiao Qi currently lacked power, his mother’s father was the Duke of Wu and his brother was the Flying Cavalry General. The Wu faction had always detested Yu Zhongqin and would certainly not support the Third Prince, who was born of the Empress.

Though Xiao Qi was only a ger, given time, he might become a force capable of rivaling the Third Prince’s faction.

The Third Prince was close to Xue Gongwen, making him inaccessible for now. But as for Xiao Qi, he remembered the child’s bright eyes and knew that while the boy was proud, he was naive to the ways of the world.

No matter how unfavored a prince might be, he was still a prince; his status was inherently different.

If Yan Qushan could establish a connection with Xiao Qi, it would be like catching a favorable wind to soar into the high clouds. Once he earned his official titles, he could observe the situation and play the “clever man” who offended neither side. That way, no matter who ascended the throne, Yan Qushan would secure his wealth and status.

With these calculations in mind, he resolved to build a relationship with the prince. But how could the son of a minor sixth-rank official see a prince? He could only wait for an opportunity.

He waited for three years.

During these three years, three major events occurred. First, the young heir of the Marquis of Anding, Xue Gongwen, became the study companion to the Third Prince.

Second, Yan Qushan, the son of the Vice Director of the Ministry of Works, passed the provincial examination with the highest honors, becoming a Jieyuan. His poetry and prose were widely circulated, and his reputation for talent grew immensely.

Third, news of a military victory arrived from beyond the borders. The Emperor was overjoyed and ordered a grand banquet in the palace, inviting all officials of the sixth rank and above to attend with their families.

On the day of the Flower Appreciation Banquet, the prominent figures of the capital dressed meticulously and headed to the palace early in their palanquins. Ladies and young misses competed in beauty, while lords and scholars vied with their poetry, all competing secretly in a lively atmosphere.

Though Yan Qushan was a recognized talent and had ranked first in the provincial exams, it was, after all, only a provincial rank. After a few casual conversations, he found himself alone. Everyone was aware of his background and looked down on him. Furthermore, over the years, the relationship between Xue Gongwen and Yan Qushan had deteriorated.

Initially, Xue had acted out of spite for his deceased aunt, but over time, he grew to find Yan Qushan’s hypocritical persona truly loathsome. Thus, his revenge became pure malice.

They clashed every time they met. Consequently, the other young lords did not dare to cross Xue Gongwen and avoided befriending Yan Qushan.

Yan Qushan did not care. He had little interest in the banquet itself; his only concern was that this was a palace banquet. He had waited three years, a full three years, for another chance to see the Second Prince.

His intuition had been correct. The Duke of Wu, Shangguan Yi, could not tolerate the Third Prince’s faction, supported by Yu Zhongqin, becoming the sole power. He had praised the Second Prince’s intelligence before the Emperor several times, hoping he could study under the great scholars alongside the Third and Fourth Princes.

The Emperor had not said much and allowed it.

Yan Qushan was slightly disappointed that Shangguan Yi had only requested this one thing. However, since the Duke had spoken, it meant the Wu faction still had some expectations for Xiao Qi. Perhaps he was just being impatient for success.

Laughter and chatter filled the air. Occasionally, young ladies and ger would blush and hand Yan Qushan silk handkerchiefs because of his handsome looks. Frustrated by the crowd, he decided to head toward the quiet Upper Forest Park to escape.

His boots, adorned with pixiu cloud patterns, crunched on the ground. His attendant, Zhu Li, followed behind. “Young Master, we have searched for ages and have not seen the Second Prince. Seating will begin soon; we should head back.”

Yan Qushan grew increasingly irritated. After waiting so many days and nights, he could not bear to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

Looking up, he saw the sky had darkened. It was indeed unwise to delay further, so he began to head back the way he came.

At that moment, a sudden noise came from above. Zhu Li cried out, “Young Master, watch out!” and tried to rush forward, but he was a step too late. The rustling above grew louder, and then from such a tall tree, a person fell straight toward Yan Qushan!

The collision was unavoidable. Yan Qushan could only watch as the figure crashed into him. A sharp pain flared in his shoulder where the youth’s bones struck him, and then the boy’s full weight pressed him down.

The youth’s hands braced against the ground beside Yan Qushan. The tree had been high, and he seemed frightened; his chest heaved as he buried his head near Yan Qushan’s neck, breathing heavily. His warm, moist breath brushed against Yan Qushan’s exposed skin.

After a moment, the person on top of him straightened up. Yan Qushan studied the face in the hazy twilight, and his heart leapt with joy. He thanked the heavens for their favor; he had been looking for a pillow, and someone had dropped one from the sky.

This person who had fallen from the heavens was none other than his ladder to the clouds, Xiao Qi.

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