The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 16

Song Qingqian emerged from the room and passed by her side with a faint smile. “Isn’t Your Highness coming down?”

She descended the stairs at a leisurely pace. Xiao Beitang froze for a moment, then followed behind with a furrowed brow. As the two reached the ground floor, Xiao Lin and Xiao Yuqi rose from their seats.

“Master, here is the ledger. The accountant has already confessed; Hundred Flowers Pavilion has not been paying taxes according to the law.” Wu Sanqi respectfully presented the seized records to her.

Song Qingqian glanced at them, her tone indifferent. “Hand them over to the Jingzhao Prefecture.”

Mama Hua had already collapsed to the ground in terror. According to the laws of the Great Yu, deceiving the imperial court through tax evasion was punishable by imprisonment at best, and exile or execution at worst. Given Hundred Flowers Pavilion’s massive turnover, the sentence would surely lean toward the latter.

“My Lady, have mercy! I know my wrongs now!” Mama Hua wept and pleaded. Behind her, the girls of the house, having never seen such a display of authority, broke into a chorus of frantic sobbing.

“Song Qingqian, what exactly are you trying to do?” Xiao Beitang intercepted Wu Sanqi, questioning her sharply.

“Wasn’t my husband just leaving? No one here dares to stop you. Please, suit yourself,” Song Qingqian replied with a question of her own.

“Miss Jiang, for the sake of our past friendship, please save me!” Mama Hua realized the power dynamic and crawled toward her on her knees.

Xiao Beitang glared at Song Qingqian. “I am asking you a question. What is the meaning of all this commotion?”

Feigning ignorance, Song Qingqian said calmly, “The law of the land comes first. As a citizen of Great Yu, it is my duty to report illegal acts when I see them. Have I done something wrong?” She then turned to Xiao Lin and Xiao Yuqi.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I should probably have a word with your parents as well.”

The two looked at each other, hanging their heads in silence.

“Stop playing the fool!” Xiao Beitang lunged forward, looming over her.

Suddenly, a thick, suffocating wave of pheromones filled the air. To a Qianyuan (Alpha) or a Zhongyong (Beta), it was merely a heavy pressure, but as the only Kunze (Omega) present, Song Qingqian felt the full, stifling intensity of the scent.

She took two steps back, pulling out a handkerchief to lightly cover her nose. She had expected to encounter many Qianyuan in a place like this and had worn a rune-engraved pendant as a precaution. Still, she realized she shouldn’t stay here much longer.

“Since you loathe me so much, why did you come looking for me?” Xiao Beitang let out a cold, angry laugh at her retreat.

Song Qingqian didn’t mince words. “I’ll be direct, then. If my husband is willing to return with me today, Hundred Flowers Pavilion will pay its back taxes and continue its business peacefully; this matter will be forgotten. I will also overlook the faults of Miss Lin and Miss Xiao. How does that sound?”

Mama Hua looked at Xiao Beitang with desperate eyes, praying for her to agree. But Xiao Beitang only scowled, showing no sign of compromise. Seeing this, Mama Hua signaled Linglong to plead, but Linglong avoided her gaze, weeping silently.

The rhythmic sound of sobbing began to grate on Xiao Beitang’s nerves. She glanced back at the girls, then at Xiao Lin, and let out a short sigh. “Keep your word,” she muttered in a low voice.

“Naturally.”

“Fine. I’ll go back with you,” Xiao Beitang said, nearly through gritted teeth.

“Wu Sanqi, stay and handle the aftermath. Remember, today was merely the authorities apprehending a thief,” Song Qingqian commanded before leading Xiao Beitang out.

Mama Hua watched them leave, her mind racing. Who exactly was Jiang Tang, that she could mobilize imperial soldiers so easily?

“Will Your Highness take the carriage or ride a horse?” Song Qingqian asked with a smile.

Xiao Beitang looked at the sky, then at the road, and after a moment’s hesitation, climbed straight into the carriage. Song Qingqian hadn’t expected her to agree to share the space. Good, she thought, another chance to talk.

“Let’s move,” Song Qingqian ordered, dropping the curtain.

Inside, Xiao Beitang sat with her eyes closed, propping her head up with one hand. Song Qingqian sat by the small window. “Your Highness might want to reconsider my proposal. It is only for three years.”

“I won’t,” Xiao Beitang said flatly.

Song Qingqian smiled and pulled back a corner of the curtain. Xiao Beitang made no effort to control her pheromones; whether she was angry or not, she simply let them radiate.

The ride was silent. Before long, the carriage entered the palace, where Liu Zi and Xiao Tao were waiting anxiously. As soon as she stepped down, Xiao Beitang strode toward the opposite direction of Zichen Palace without looking back.

“Your Highness! Aren’t we going back to Zichen Palace?” Liu Zi scrambled after her, looking back at Song Qingqian in confusion. Xiao Beitang ignored him, her pace quickening as if she was fleeing a plague.

“Crown Princess, is Her Highness upset again?” Xiao Tao asked, equally puzzled.

“Is the side room in Fuhua Pavilion ready?” Song Qingqian asked calmly.

“Everything is prepared as you ordered. Our things have been moved over.”

“Good.” Song Qingqian watched the direction Xiao Beitang had disappeared and followed at a leisurely pace.

“Liu Zi, go back and tell Xing’er and the others to come to the Library. Bring my things as well. I’ll be staying here from now on.” Xiao Beitang waved a hand and walked straight into the Library.

Liu Zi followed, stunned. “Your Highness, there isn’t a proper bed here. You should really return to Zichen Palace.”

“Your courage is growing, Liu Zi. You dare to disobey my orders now?” Xiao Beitang sat down and picked up a book on political strategy.

“Does Your Highness intend to sleep in the Library forever?” Song Qingqian walked in, her eyes wandering over the surroundings.

“What are you doing here?” Xiao Beitang snapped, giving her a sharp glare.

Song Qingqian chuckled. “I am here to invite Your Highness back to Zichen Palace.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Xiao Beitang said with disdain. “Do you really want me back?”

“Why is Your Highness so unwilling to return?”

“That is your Zichen Palace now, not mine,” Xiao Beitang replied sarcastically.

Song Qingqian walked along the shelves, her fingertips grazing the spines of the books. “I know Your Highness loathes me and cannot stand to be in the same room. I have already moved my belongings to the West Wing of Fuhua Pavilion. Now, will you return?”

Xiao Beitang looked at her suspiciously. “Song Qingqian, what is your game? Do you want the Mother Empress to see this and pity you?”

The Princess shook her head. “If Your Highness sleeps elsewhere every night, word will spread. It wouldn’t be good for my reputation, and I dread to think what people would say about my father.” She turned to Xiao Beitang with a flirtatious, knowing smile. “Besides, Your Highness doesn’t want to be lectured by Her Majesty every single day, do you?”

Xiao Beitang went quiet, then muttered crossly, “What is it you actually want?”

“Rest assured,” Song Qingqian smiled. “I only want you to return to Zichen Palace.”

Xiao Beitang pondered. Her back still ached from sleeping on the hard furniture the night before. If she stayed here again, the Emperor and Empress would surely intervene, and she would have no peace.

“Since you are begging so sincerely, I suppose I can manage,” she said, hopping off the chair. “Liu Zi, we’re going back.”

“Yes! Right away, Your Highness!” Liu Zi replied happily.

Upon returning to Zichen Palace, Xiao Beitang saw that Song Qingqian’s things were indeed gone, and she finally lowered her guard. After a relaxing bath, she walked to the door in her nightgown and glanced toward the West Wing.

Through the window, she could see a silhouette; Song Qingqian appeared to be removing her makeup.

Xiao Beitang watched for a moment before sitting on her bed. She had been masking it all day, but her back was stiff and painful. The Library’s small couch was hardly fit for rest. She rubbed her shoulders and stretched her arms to loosen up.

She then pulled a brocade box from a hidden cabinet. Inside was a piece of Hetian jade—warm, translucent, and flawless. She traced the patterns of the jade, lost in thought, before carefully putting it away and drifting into a deep sleep.