Shen Wei knew full well that Prince Heng was deliberately targeting her.
But to outsiders, it appeared as though Prince Heng was employing the tactic of "using minimal effort to maximum effect"—by humbling a mere concubine, he aimed to undermine Prince Yan’s dignity.
After all, no one would believe that the illustrious Prince Heng would stoop to targeting a lowly concubine.
Zhao Yang, being innocent and guileless, was oblivious to Prince Heng’s schemes. She beamed and asked cheerfully, “Shen Wei, what birthday gift have you prepared for me?”
With the princess personally addressing her, Shen Wei had no choice but to brace herself and rise. Head bowed, she cautiously stepped to the center of the hall.
Her bow was impeccably executed, but her voice trembled faintly as she spoke: “This humble servant, Shen Wei, pays respects to Her Majesty the Empress, and to… to Her Highness the Princess…”
She played the role of a timid concubine, unaccustomed to grand occasions, to perfection.
Prince Heng, seated not far away, snorted under his breath.
*Acting, are we? Keep it up.*
His sharp eyes missed nothing—Shen Wei deliberately lowered her head and feigned nervous trembling, yet her composure was unshaken. Even her flawless bow betrayed not a single misstep.
The Empress, her phoenix eyes slightly narrowed, spoke in a serene tone: “Lady Shen of Prince Yan’s household—I’ve heard of you. Raise your head.”
Shen Wei lifted her head cautiously, keeping her gaze lowered, not daring to meet the Empress’s eyes directly.
The Empress observed Shen Wei’s simple yet elegant attire and her impeccable manners, finding herself rather pleased. Indeed, her looks were extraordinary, and she carried an indescribable aura—no wonder Prince Yan favored her.
A shame, though, that after months of favor, she still hadn’t conceived.
The Princess Consort, meanwhile, furrowed her brows in silent frustration. She cursed Prince Heng inwardly for picking on such a minor concubine!
Shen Wei’s gift was a delicate balancing act—it couldn’t be too extravagant, lest it overshadow the presents from other noblewomen, which would be disrespectful. Yet it couldn’t be too cheap either, or it would reflect poorly on Prince Yan’s household. Most importantly, it had to genuinely please the princess.
Winning the princess’s true favor was no easy feat.
Even the Princess Consort had been at a loss for what to give.
Prince Heng fanned himself lazily with a white jade-handled fan, his peach-blossom eyes brimming with amusement as he awaited the downfall of this cunning little fox.
Shen Wei “nervously” swallowed, then retrieved a letter from her sleeve and said in a hushed voice, “Your Highness, this humble servant comes from modest origins and cannot offer lavish gifts. After much thought, I wished to present a treasured beauty recipe to the princess.
May Your Highness *‘retain eternal youth, blossoms in your hair, year after radiant year.’*”
An expensive gift would steal the spotlight.
A cheap one would be unbecoming.
But a cherished beauty formula? Neither too humble nor too ostentatious—and something the princess would truly appreciate.
No woman, not even a princess, was immune to the allure of beauty.
Zhao Yang’s eyes lit up. “Quick, bring me that recipe!” She had always admired Shen Wei’s flawless, porcelain-like complexion.
So *that* was her secret!
The young noblewomen present couldn’t help but glance enviously at Shen Wei’s radiant skin. They, too, longed for such a beauty regimen…
Zhao Yang adored the gift, and Shen Wei had deftly escaped her predicament.
The Princess Consort exhaled in silent relief. Lady Shen had lucked out this time, narrowly avoiding disaster.
With a sharp snap, Prince Heng shut his fan, his peach-blossom eyes narrowing dangerously. The woman was sharp—she’d slipped through his fingers again.
*What fortune my elder brother has—where did he find such a clever creature? I wouldn’t mind keeping one like her for amusement.*
The Empress’s smile deepened as she studied Shen Wei anew. A beauty recipe—this was no accident. It was the result of careful, deliberate thought.
For all her timid demeanor, Lady Shen possessed a keen and resourceful mind.
Truly rare.
The Empress said kindly, “Lady Shen, you saved Zhao Yang and now presented her with this gift. I must reward you—”
Before she could finish, an old matron hurried over and whispered something in the Empress’s ear.
The Empress’s expression shifted in surprise.
Then, from outside, came the shrill cry of a palace eunuch:
“*His Majesty the Emperor arrives! The Crown Prince arrives! Prince Yan arrives!*”
The entire assembly froze.
Shen Wei quickly lowered her head, masking her astonishment.
She had heard the Emperor was frail and bedridden—yet here he was, gracing Zhao Yang’s birthday in person!
Such imperial favor was staggering.
Even as she marveled, Shen Wei couldn’t help but chide Zhao Yang inwardly: *You fool. With the Emperor and Empress’s boundless love, you could strut sideways through the Great Qing Kingdom—yet you let a nobody like Tantai Rou push you into despair? What a waste of your station.*
As the Emperor entered, the assembled nobles and officials dropped to their knees in deep obeisance.
Shen Wei followed suit, ears pricked as the rustle of footsteps approached the throne. Then came a hoarse, aged voice from the dais:
“Rise.”
The hall stirred as everyone stood, bowed once more, and resumed their seats.
Shen Wei couldn’t return to her place—the Empress hadn’t finished with her yet.
On the throne, the silver-haired Emperor smiled. “Empress, what were you discussing with Zhao Yang?”
The Empress replied, “Lady Shen of Yuanjing’s household once saved Zhao Yang’s life, and today she gifted her a beauty recipe. I was just about to reward her.”
Shen Wei stood with perfect decorum, head still respectfully bowed.
Her ears caught the Empress instructing the old matron to bestow a lavish array of gifts—soon, her mind buzzed with the litany of *“gold and jade, sweets and silks, pearls and amber, silver and gold…”*
Palace maids and eunuchs brought forth trays draped in imperial yellow silk, while bolts of fine fabric were carried in chests.
Shen Wei’s heart raced. *Money—so much money!*
She promptly kowtowed in gratitude. “This humble servant, Shen Wei, thanks Your Majesties for your generosity.”
The Princess Consort’s gaze darkened at the sight of such riches. A bitter pang twisted her heart, but she forced it down, fingers mechanically counting the beads of her Buddhist rosary.
*Just a concubine. A fleeting moment of glory—nothing to fear.*
The sheer volume of gifts made it impossible for Shen Wei to carry them alone. Without attendants and with the Princess Consort refusing to assist, she had no choice but to cast a pleading glance toward Prince Yan.
A concubine, overwhelmed at her first grand occasion, turning helplessly to the one person she trusted most—how heartwarming, no?
Prince Yan’s chest swelled at the sight of Shen Wei’s vulnerable, hopeful gaze.
*She needs me.*
A man’s protective instincts stirred. With a smile, he signaled his guards to collect the imperial rewards on her behalf.
Gifts secured, Shen Wei prepared to retreat to her humble seat—only for Prince Yan to speak:
“Weiwei, sit beside me.”
Dressed in court robes, Prince Yan cut a dashing and commanding figure. Shen Wei shot him a grateful look before obediently taking her place at his side.
The gift-giving segment concluded, and the elegant melodies of song and dance resumed once more. The banquet hall buzzed with lively chatter, cups clinking in toast, and the rich aroma of wine filling the air—what a splendidly festive scene.
Before long, the kitchen sent out an array of exquisitely crafted desserts.
Delicately arranged in translucent white porcelain bowls were three sweet treats: brown sugar chilled rice cakes, mint-infused sago jelly, and fresh milk stewed with peach resin.
With a smile, Zhao Yang addressed the Emperor, "Father, with the summer heat at its peak, I’ve specially prepared these cooling and refreshing desserts. Please enjoy them, Father and Mother Empress."
