The Flirtatious Beauty Decides to Steal the Princess - Chapter 17

The next day dawned bright and clear, with the spring sunlight casting a beautiful glow everywhere.

The rays streamed through the latticed windows of the Ninglu Palace, spilling onto Wen Ying’s bedside.

The other side of the bed, where Yun Chu usually slept, was already empty she had long since risen to begin her chores. The blankets were neatly folded, and a basin of warm water along with a coarse cloth had been placed on the dressing table, ready for Wen Ying when she woke.

Roused by the sunlight, Wen Ying sat up, squinting as she recalled what Mother Gu had mentioned at dinner the night before that she could collect her new dress today.

A surge of anticipation for well-fitted clothes washed over her. For once, Wen Ying didn’t linger in bed but propped herself up on her elbows and smiled at the sight of the water Yun Chu had prepared for her.

The lazy sunlight fell upon the faint dimple that appeared on Wen Ying’s cheek. To her, this was yet another brand-new day.

She reached for the mended dress left by her bedside, the one Yun Chu had brought back last night and found that it fit her perfectly.

However, since it had once belonged to a dancer, it accentuated her figure more than she was used to. The softness Wen Ying had always tried to conceal could no longer be hidden, and the dress made her waist appear especially slender.

Staring at her unfamiliar reflection in the bronze mirror, Wen Ying flushed with embarrassment. Though this went against her usual instinct to hide herself, today, she didn’t feel as resistant as before.

In fact, she even felt a flicker of anticipation. Would Fu Qingyin like it when he saw her?

The thought startled her. She froze, fingers clutching the hem of her skirt as she stared blankly at the mirror, only snapping out of it when she remembered she still needed to wash up.

The rough cloth soaked in the basin, and the once-scalding water had cooled to a comfortable warmth, perfect for freshening up.

Though she lived in the dilapidated Ninglu Palace, Wen Ying had always adhered strictly to the rituals of morning ablutions and dressing, as if she were a noble lady raised in the slums.

Yun Chu, uncertain of what fate held in store, had never wavered in her duty to care for Wen Ying as promised to raise her well, as the most esteemed lady in the land ought to be.

A refined young lady, pure-hearted and kind, with all things going her way and happiness every day that was what Yun Chu strove to give Wen Ying. Though they couldn’t afford the luxuries of a princess, Yun Chu had single-handedly provided for her.

Wen Ying saw all of Yun Chu’s efforts and was deeply grateful that she hadn’t mistreated her like some wicked servant might have, given her lack of a birth mother. Instead, Yun Chu had cared for her as lovingly as a mother would.

After washing her face, strands of Wen Ying’s hair clung damply to her cheeks. She was just about to tidy herself in the mirror when a soft knock sounded at the wooden door.

“Beautiful Sister!” Wen Ying didn’t even need to guess who it was. In the fifteen years she had lived in Ninglu Palace, few friends ever visited everyone was usually too busy, and even Xiao Tang couldn’t move about freely.

Somehow, Wen Ying had grown accustomed to Fu Qingyin’s presence, to the way she teased her.

With that thought, Wen Ying walked over and opened the door. Sure enough, standing outside was the graceful figure of a woman. Today, she wore a simple green gown with no extra adornments, the skirt flowing naturally as she moved with the elegance of a willow in the breeze. Yet her hands were warm beyond measure.

Fu Qingyin grasped Wen Ying’s hand, her eyes shining brightly as she looked at her, as if she had many urgent things to say after a night apart.

Wen Ying invited her into the room, urging Fu Qingyin to sit while she tidied her still-unbound hair.

Fu Qingyin had already noticed the loose strands framing Wen Ying’s face the moment the wooden door was pulled open.

Anyone unaware might have thought Wen Ying had just finished bathing at dawn. Fu Qingyin also realized she had acted impulsively, suddenly grabbing Wen Ying’s hand, so she quickly let go and obediently moved aside to sit down.

Wen Ying faced the bronze mirror, gathering her hair into a simple bun and securing it with the small wooden hairpin.

The simple hairstyle accentuated Wen Ying’s natural elegance, and Fu Qingyin had long noticed how striking Wen Ying looked in that dress.

The soft pink hue didn’t appear garish on her; instead, it lent a playful charm compared to the usual plain white palace attire.

The dress was tailored to fit snugly around the chest, clinging to her figure without seeming vulgar only enhancing her allure.

The fabric cinched neatly at her waist, emphasizing its slenderness, while the skirt flared out like tender peach blossoms, cascading down to her feet.

Though the design was simple, its grace was anything but.

Only now did Fu Qingyin truly acknowledge Wen Ying’s age she was already eighteen, having reached adulthood, and such a figure was only to be expected.

Wen Ying was no longer a child. If she were a young lady from a noble family, discussions of marriage would likely have already begun.

But royal women were in no hurry to arrange marriages, typically marrying at a later age.

Fu Qingyin averted her gaze, her ears uncharacteristically warm. Wen Ying seemed to notice this, and like a mischievous little rabbit, she slowly approached Fu Qingyin, her gaze burning with curiosity.

“Beautiful sister, are you blushing?” Wen Ying’s voice carried a deliberate hint of mischief, tinged with a youthful seductiveness, as if retaliating for Fu Qingyin’s earlier teasing.

Fu Qingyin coughed lightly. Such words from anyone else wouldn’t have flustered her in the slightest, but for some reason, when it came to Wen Ying, even the clumsiest advances made her heart flutter.

The moment this thought surfaced in Fu Qingyin’s mind, alarm bells rang.

How could she suddenly feel this way? Her face burned as she stood up, stepping back repeatedly to avoid Wen Ying’s gaze.

Oblivious, Wen Ying saw nothing wrong with her actions and was simply delighted to have stirred Fu Qingyin’s emotions. She pulled Fu Qingyin back, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. “Let’s go get that dress, okay?”

This was what Wen Ying had been eagerly anticipating no young girl could resist the excitement of wearing a beautiful gown.

Compared to the one she was wearing now, Wen Ying much preferred the water-blue dress.

The skirt’s design was simple yet adorned with sapphires, blending intricacy with simplicity utterly breathtaking.

Wen Ying couldn’t put it down and now pleaded with Fu Qingyin to accompany her.

Having regained her composure, Fu Qingyin calmly refused Wen Ying’s request.

“You haven’t had breakfast yet.”

No sooner had she spoken than Sang Zhi knocked on the wooden door outside. With Fu Qingyin’s permission, she entered, carrying the breakfast freshly delivered from the imperial kitchen.

Wen Ying had originally intended to say she wasn’t hungry, but her stomach began to growl, prompting an awkward smile as she obediently sat at the table and picked up her chopsticks to eat breakfast.

“It was Miss Xiao Tang who specially added the steamed rolls. She said you love them,” Sang Zhi said with a smile as she unpacked the dishes from the food box. She found the friendship between Wen Ying and Xiao Tang truly precious.

Fu Qingyin, however, listened with growing discomfort. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Ahem! A-Ying, are you and Xiao Tang very close?”

Wen Ying was still sipping porridge with a spoon when she heard Fu Qingyin’s seemingly random question. Setting the spoon down in the bowl, she looked puzzled. “Sister, aren’t we good friends? Of course we’re close! Back when I used to scavenge leftovers from the imperial kitchen, I ran into her often. Over time, she came to know my tastes!”

Wen Ying casually brushed over the embarrassing moments of her past, how a princess had resorted to scavenging for food. No wonder Xiao Tang had taken extra care of her.

Lately, with fewer people stirring up trouble and Xiao Tang’s consideration, Fu Qingyin had noticed that her meals had become fresher and more delicious.

To outsiders, it might seem like Wen Ying was always freeloading off Fu Qingyin’s meals. But Fu Qingyin knew that without this kind-hearted girl, she would have long been tormented beyond endurance by Consort Xin. There would be no fresh meals like these today.

Still, the fact that Consort Xin had seen them together that day remained a looming threat. Fu Qingyin resolved to protect Wen Ying at all costs.

Breakfast passed quietly under the sunlight streaming through the palace walls. By the time Wen Ying finished eating, Fu Qingyin had long set down her chopsticks and had been watching her for a while.

Wen Ying was used to Fu Qingyin’s gaze. She looked up amiably, her dimpled smile sweet, though a grain of rice still clung to the corner of her lips.

“Can we go now?” Wen Ying blinked, completely unaware of the stray grain. Accustomed to strict etiquette, she rarely found herself in such situations.

Fu Qingyin thought for a moment, then stood and leaned down, gently brushing the rice from Wen Ying’s lips, her fingertips lingering on the girl’s cheek.

Wen Ying still didn’t realize what had happened. Sitting there, her face flushed instantly, and she stammered, “S-Sister! W-What are you doing?”

Fu Qingyin found it amusing. She had no intention of telling her about the rice grain, instead narrowing her eyes in satisfaction. “A-Ying’s little dimples are adorable. I couldn’t resist touching them.”

Wen Ying remained bashful but couldn’t find fault with Fu Qingyin’s words. She lowered her head, trying to process the sudden rush of shyness.

Before Wen Ying could react further, Fu Qingyin, eager to distract her, took her by the wrist and led her outside, mentioning a trip to the embroidery tower.

Wen Ying, ever the simpleton, followed Fu Qingyin without question, only to realize how sharp the woman’s memory was. After walking the route just once or twice, Fu Qingyin already knew the way.

Every palace corridor stretched long and nearly identical. Wen Ying had spent fifteen years learning her way around, yet Fu Qingyin had memorized it in no time.

A woman this intelligent must have been a prodigy even in Yi Qing, the pride of her father.

What a shame, all because of her own father! Wen Ying puffed her cheeks. She didn’t think too deeply only that she couldn’t bear to see innocent people suffer.

War affects ordinary civilians the most.

Yet Wen Ying had no power to change the situation. Still furious, she vented her anger by kicking a palace lantern as she passed only to hurt her own foot in the process.

“What are you doing?” Fu Qingyin’s voice came from above, a mix of exasperation and amusement.

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