The entire Yanjing City knew that Zhao Yang had feelings for the young master of the Yan family.
Today, at Princess Zhao Yang’s birthday banquet, if she were to ask the emperor for permission to marry Yan Yunting, he would have no choice but to accept. There was no room for resistance—defying the imperial decree would mean gambling with the lives of his entire family.
A pang of sorrow flickered through Yan Yunting’s heart. He still had Rou'er, the gentle-hearted woman he wished to marry. Yet, under the weight of imperial pressure, he would have no choice but to betray her.
Zhao Yang, oh Zhao Yang, why can’t you just let me be? A forced marriage bears no sweetness—even if we were wed, it would only yield bitter fruit.
Seated in the place of honor at the banquet, Zhao Yang was in high spirits. She knew that if she requested her father's blessing for the marriage today, he would surely grant her wish.
Her gaze drifted toward Yan Yunting, seated in the distance.
Her smile froze.
The noble-born Yan Yunting, elegant as an orchid or a jade tree, now looked deeply troubled and resigned.
Zhao Yang’s heart prickled as if pierced by tiny needles, aching unbearably.
She pressed her lips together, forcing a smile. "Father, my wish is—for you and Mother to live a hundred years in good health, and for Qing State to prosper in peace."
The emperor paused, then beamed with delight. "My child, your aspirations are noble indeed!"
After a moment, he added warmly, "But daughters must marry eventually. If there’s a young lord who catches your eye, simply tell me, and I shall arrange the union."
Zhao Yang replied obediently, "Rest assured, Father. If I ever have someone in my heart, I will certainly ask for your blessing."
And so, the storm of an imperial marriage quietly passed.
Yan Yunting’s taut nerves finally loosened, and he exhaled in relief. Yet, along with that relief came an inexplicable displeasure.
Why hadn’t Zhao Yang asked the emperor for the marriage?
Had her heart turned to someone else?
A nameless jealousy spread through his chest, gnawing at him like ants. His grip on the teacup tightened until his knuckles whitened.
...
By afternoon, the banquet concluded, and guests began departing.
Prince Yan and the crown prince had official matters to discuss, so the prince sent two guards to escort Shen Wei back to the mansion. The princess consort, meanwhile, was summoned by the empress for questioning and wouldn’t return until nightfall.
As Shen Wei stepped out of the princess’s residence and prepared to board her carriage, Sun Qingmei approached her.
"Lady Shen, congratulations," Sun Qingmei said with a warm smile. "Now that you’re with child, be sure to eat well and avoid distress."
Earlier, Sun Qingmei had noticed Shen Wei’s pale complexion and assumed she was ill—only to learn she was pregnant.
Envy tugged at her heart.
If only her own husband hadn’t left for the border on their wedding night, perhaps she too would have a child by now. With the constant warfare at the frontier, Sun Qingmei lived in fear, praying daily for his safety.
"Thank you for your kindness, Lady Sun. You must also take care of yourself while managing the marquis’s household." Shen Wei held Sun Qingmei in high regard—she was a kind-hearted noblewoman who never looked down on Shen Wei’s humble origins.
Sun Qingmei gently advised, "The prince’s mansion is full of prying eyes, and tales of mistresses bullying concubines are common. You must be cautious—"
Before she could say more, the South Garrison Marquis’s carriage arrived. An ill-tempered old matron stepped out and snapped rudely, "Madam! The old mistress is in a rage at home. The ice sent for summer relief was too little, and she’s furious. She sent me to fetch you back to deal with it."
The matron’s tone was harsh.
Sun Qingmei seemed accustomed to it. She gave Shen Wei’s hand a reassuring pat before swiftly boarding the carriage.
No sooner had she stepped inside than the carriage jolted forward, nearly causing her to stumble.
Shen Wei watched the departing carriage, frowning slightly.
Lady Sun was kind and thoughtful, yet the meek were often preyed upon—her life in the marquis’s household seemed far from smooth.
Every family had its troubles. With a quiet sigh, Shen Wei boarded her own carriage back to Prince Yan’s Mansion.
Upon returning to Liuli Pavilion, she was greeted by Cai Lian, Cai Ping, Nanny Rong, Ji Xiang, and De Shun, all offering their congratulations.
In high spirits, Shen Wei rewarded them with silver. She even planned to raise their wages—pregnancy would be taxing, and the servants attending her would bear the brunt of it.
In the world of service, loyalty meant little. A raise in pay was the surest way to ensure diligence.
After sipping some tea, she prepared to inspect the gifts bestowed by the empress—until a sudden announcement came from outside.
The empress’s chief matron, Nanny Qian, had arrived!
Shen Wei nearly dropped her cup. Why would the empress’s personal attendant visit her humble quarters?
Suppressing her shock, she hurried out with her maids to greet the visitor. Nanny Qian, her hair streaked with gray, was a figure of high standing in the palace, having served the empress for decades.
Behind her stood four eunuchs, each holding a heavy tray.
"The empress sends her regards," Nanny Qian declared. "She felt the gold and jade bestowed earlier were of little practical use, so she has sent these supplements instead."
At her signal, the eunuchs presented the trays—filled with bird’s nest, fish maw, sea cucumber, and snow frog glands, all rare delicacies beneficial for pregnancy.
Shen Wei was bewildered.
She was of low birth, merely a minor concubine. Even if she had saved Zhao Yang twice and now carried a child, such lavish attention from the empress was… unusual.
Highly irregular.
Masking her confusion, she expressed profuse gratitude. After accepting the gifts, she subtly signaled Cai Lian, who promptly handed Nanny Qian a hefty pouch of silver.
"Oh, Mistress Shen, this is too much!" Nanny Qian protested insincerely, her practiced hands already pocketing the bribe. Her address for Shen Wei shifted from "the Shen woman" to "Mistress Shen."
Shen Wei spoke earnestly, "A token of appreciation for your trouble, Nanny Qian. Yet I cannot help but wonder—why would Her Majesty show such favor to someone as insignificant as I?"
Now that her palms were greased, Nanny Qian was happy to offer advice. "Do not fret, Mistress Shen. Prince Yan’s household has seen no new births in two years. The empress naturally treasures the child in your womb. Seize this opportunity, and greatness may soon be within your grasp."
