Hot steaming dumplings emitted wisps of white steam as Chen Yi scooped them piece by piece into a bowl.
The Prince Mansion had been thoroughly raided, but the stove wasn’t sothing that could be confiscated. Coupled with the cast-iron pot he brought back from ho, cooking a big pot of dumplings wasn’t an issue.
The dumplings were plump and round, piled high into a brimming bowl. He carried the iron bowl into the treasure hall of Yintai Temple, and as soon as he entered, he saw Zhou Yitang ditating in place while Yin Tingxue lay under the bedding, looking as though she was deep in thought.
"Awake?"
Chen Yi set down the iron bowl and sat beside Yin Tingxue.
"Hmm... It seems like I slept until it’s almost dark."
Yin Tingxue propped herself up, gazing at the dim, distant sky. She turned her head toward Chen Yi and asked:
"How long did I sleep?"
"Four hours, you really are a sleepyhead."
Yin Tingxue turned her face away in sha and annoyance.
Chen Yi looked at her and, after a mont, suddenly said:
"You called ’Mother’ in your sleep."
Yin Tingxue was startled, cold sweat breaking out.
"Why don’t you call a few more tis?"
Chen Yi pulled her into his arms along with the bedding and teasingly asked.
"No, no."
"You were calling quite joyfully at the ti."
"I wasn’t!"
"Fine, then I’ll tornt you until you feel like calling."
Chen Yi said with mock nace.
"Husband, don’t do this..."
She was almost panicking to the point of tears, too afraid to retreat and helplessly curled further into his embrace.
Chen Yi tapped her nose lightly and chuckled:
"I’m joking. Co eat, and after that, drink a bowl of dicine. I promised not to bully you here."
Yin Tingxue gradually cald down. Just now, she had been flustered and embarrassed, worried not only about him being upset but also about the inexplicable mont when she accidentally called him ’Mother.’
But at that mont, as he approached her with his loose hair, he really resembled her mother.
Yin Tingxue turned her head and saw the lotus leaf he had picked for her.
She beca a bit dazed.
Master Zhou had told her to imagine him as the person she loved most, and it seed that... she really had imagined him as her mother at the ti.
She shook her head, trying to chase away the thoughts she shouldn’t have.
Chen Yi looked at her, thought for a while, and asked:
"What are you thinking?"
Yin Tingxue snapped back to reality, sowhat hesitant to speak, and instead asked:
"...Can I tell a lie this once?"
Chen Yi understood her thoughts: "Just this once."
"I was thinking... how to make you happy." Yin Tingxue cleverly redirected the topic.
Chen Yi lifted his gaze and looked in another direction.
Yin Tingxue followed his line of sight and asked in confusion:
"Why are you looking at Master Zhou?"
"Did you know? If you fought for my attention like my master does, I’d be quite happy."
Chen Yi said without reserve.
Unexpectedly, the one-ard woman remained quiet, still ditating.
Fighting for attention would make him happy?
"Then I..."
Yin Tingxue looked up at him tentatively and asked:
"Do I fight for attention next ti?"
Chen Yi laughed at her suggestion, pulling her into his arms and saying:
"Ah, you little fox, you’re really clever, like a sly fox."
Yin Tingxue felt shy, obediently leaning into his embrace. She felt that his hold was warr than before—it was almost... mother-like. Thinking of this made her shiver slightly.
Chen Yi released her and softly said:
"Tomorrow, as winter passes, we might not be able to stay at Yintai Temple anymore."
"Why?"
Yin Tingxue scrunched her nose slightly.
"I want... to unravel so mysteries, about myself and about you. At that ti, you can follow —perhaps even follow Master Zhou."
Chen Yi spoke gently, explaining how he planned to take her to the Joyful Sect’s headquarters. Only today had he realized how many tangled mysteries within were connected to her.
She thought, Whatever he says goes, and eventually nodded to agree.
.........
Inside Jingren Palace.
The underfloor heating radiated warmth, almost scalding, but the glossy imperial kiln gold bricks remained cold.
The dazzling yet plainly clad woman dared not lift her head, for seated before the imperial desk was soone far more majestic—the mother of Great Yu.
"One song resonates through the Capital, your reputation has even reached the palace."
Anhou’s gaze was neither warm nor cold but hovered sowhere ambiguous and elusive.
"Your lodies are excellent, your face even better, and your figure is exquisite. You’ve surpassed countless concubines. Truly, you’re destined for wealth and fortune."
"In reply to Your Majesty, this humble girl doesn’t even count as having a hollow reputation. As for my appearance, no matter how overpraised, how could it compare to the Heavenly Family’s divine might?"
"Of course, you cannot compare."
"...Yes, Your Majesty is correct."
Min Ming nearly lowered her head to her chest, almost burying herself in her rounded posture.
When she had first entered Baihua Building as a young girl, her lodies had made a na for her even through veiled screens. To elevate her status, Baihua Building often had her wear silk masks, with her beauty hidden behind gauze only heightening its charm. Stories of her unrivaled allure spread throughout the Capital, heralding her as destined to beco the Oiran, fulfilling the "Ming" in her na.
But a courtesan is still a courtesan. No matter how celebrated a courtesan might be, she remains of low status. Many courtesans feel inferior in front of respectable won, humbled and self-effacing.
Even more so now—Min Ming was facing the Heavenly Family.
Kneeling on the ground, her knees trembled slightly as she strained to keep herself upright.
"Miss Min, do you know why I summoned you?"
"In reply to Your Majesty, this humble girl does not know..."
Min Ming struggled to suppress her faltering voice.
"I heard... you have been acquainted with that household commander."
The Empress Dowager’s voice was slow and asured, yet it made Min Ming feel as though she had fallen into an icy abyss, her thoughts freezing and then spinning uncontrollably.
Anhou observed this scene, leisurely tapping her imperial desk.
Strangely enough, she found herself enjoying the act of exerting pressure on those near Chen Yi.
Without speaking further, she lightly scanned the woman’s delicate, snow-covered beauty, which even plain garnts couldn’t conceal. A true gem, her soft charm perfectly complented the biting winter.
"You shall call ’Mistress’ from now on. Consider yourself half a mber of the palace." Anhou’s voice was enigmatic.
Min Ming’s mind spun in confusion—was this sudden imperial favor a blessing or a curse? For soone like her, a re courtesan, how could it ever be a blessing? This might even implicate Min Ning. At this thought, she suddenly collapsed, pressing her trembling limbs against the cold floor as she stamred:
"Mistress, this humble girl is guilty. I once hard Commander Chen..."
Anhou’s gaze turned sharp, instinctively questioning:
"What harm did you do to Yi’er... Chen Yi?"
Min Ming dared not lift her head, pressing her forehead against the chilly gold bricks until they ward slightly but remaining silent out of fear.
"Enough. Speak of it later. For now, I require you... to do one thing."
"May I ask, Mistress... what task is required?"
"Sothing that will lead to his death."
Outside Jingren Palace, the wind howled, and snow fell like iron.
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