’Even my Zen Heart is being tested. It seems beauty truly is a detrint to one’s health.’
Lu Mingyuan mused internally. His gaze swept over her long, snow-white neck before landing on Yang Yingchan’s flower-like face. He chuckled softly and said:
"Sister-in-law, Happy New Year."
Yang Yingchan tilted her head, murmuring in reply, "Mm, Happy New Year to you too, Brother-in-law."
"I couldn’t invite you to the great feast. You’re not upset with for that, are you, Sister-in-law?"
Lu Mingyuan said, his eyes bright and focused.
"I wouldn’t dare..."
Yang Yingchan averted her gaze, not wanting Lu Mingyuan to see the bitterness in her eyes.
In truth, she was deeply disappointed that Lu Mingyuan hadn’t invited her to the New Year’s Eve dinner. She envied his large family, able to reunite for the new year, and him with his happy and blissful wife.
She was, after all, an outsider. She couldn’t intrude on another’s life. It felt wrong for a widow like her to disrupt such an atmosphere.
The new year. For her, the word was so distant, yet so near. Ever since arriving in the Great Yan Capital City, she hadn’t spent a single new year in comfort. That beast, Lu Changfeng, had only cared for his own pleasure. During the festivities, he would indulge in beautiful won and fine wine. He didn’t dare take concubines, so he kept his lovers hidden away in secret villas, supporting a flock of won on the outside. anwhile, she could only be like a Golden Canary, trapped in the manor, gazing up at the moon and waiting for the next year.
At this thought, Yang Yingchan couldn’t help but feel a fresh wave of grievance.
Especially as she looked at the dashing and handso Lu Mingyuan, who stood before her like a jade tree in the wind. The feeling of being wronged beca unbearable, and she wished she could throw herself into his arms and have a good, long cry.
"’I wouldn’t dare,’ not ’I’m not.’ It seems you do hold so resentnt toward , Sister-in-law," Lu Mingyuan sighed softly.
Yang Yingchan suppressed her emotions and said earnestly, "For Your Highness to co see on New Year’s Eve has already made very happy. This past year, you have been taking care of and protecting in the Cold Palace. Thanks to you and Noble Consort Wang, no concubine has dared to cause trouble. I will also have to rely on you for my future correspondence with my father. I am endlessly grateful. How could I dare ask for more? If there is ever anything you need from in the future, you only need to say the word."
As soon as she said it, her pretty face flushed slightly. She felt her words were ambiguous. ’If His Highness has taken a fancy to , does that an I have to offer myself to him?’
The more she thought about it, the redder her face beca. Her already charming features now resembled a blooming peach blossom, looking exquisitely delicate and alluring.
Seeing his sister-in-law looking so ravishing, Lu Mingyuan’s Heart Spirit couldn’t help but waver once more.
"You’re too kind, Sister-in-law. I’m just being fair. Helping you is no trouble at all."
He saw through her thoughts, understanding that this was her last shred of dignity and pride as Princess Consort Zhao.
And as a man, it was his duty to shatter that dignity.
Yang Yingchan, daughter of Prince Zhenbei, might seem insignificant now—nothing more than a hostage.
But if the Great Yan were to descend into the chaos of war after the Emperor’s death, that army of three hundred thousand soldiers on the border would be the best possible support.
In his life, Prince Zhenbei had only one principal wife, who gave him this one biological daughter. Any subsequent wives could never match the first wife’s status, and no matter how many adopted sons he had, they could never outweigh his own flesh and blood.
Thinking of this, Lu Mingyuan placed a hand on Yang Yingchan’s shoulder.
He clearly felt her delicate body stiffen. In his peripheral vision, he saw her elegant fists clench nervously, yet she showed no intention of resisting.
Lu Mingyuan sensed her inner turmoil and smiled. "Have you fallen for , Sister-in-law?"
"N-No."
Yang Yingchan frantically averted her eyes, not daring to et his gaze.
But in truth, she had stayed up late into the night, waiting by the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lu Mingyuan before the new year ended.
She hadn’t yet realized that ever since she started going to Qingzhu Hall to read every night, the place reminded her of the person. Her heart was filled with longing. During those days, she had dreamt of Lu Mingyuan more than once while sleeping alone.
Or perhaps, Yang Yingchan was already aware of her feelings but was powerless to stop them from growing. She could only choose to ignore them. Now, with love deeply rooted, it was already too late.
Lu Mingyuan smiled faintly. He turned, blew out the candle, kicked off his boots, and sat on the bed. A pair of small hands pressed against his chest, accompanied by a low voice:
"Don’t..."
The voice was so complex, a mixture of timidity, apprehension, hesitant refusal, and a hint of pleading.
Yang Yingchan still clung to a thread of reason. If anyone in the palace discovered what she was doing, how could she ever establish herself here in the future?
His sister-in-law t his gaze in the darkness. Lu Mingyuan stared back at her, a long silence between them. Finally, he whispered:
"Don’t be afraid, Sister-in-law. I’m here."
He took the Heaven and Earth Isolation Talisman given to him by Luo Ying from his sleeve and enveloped the hall with it.
Luo Ying would never have imagined in her wildest dreams that the Talisman she had given Lu Mingyuan before the new year—ant for eavesdropping missions and isolating auras—would be used for sothing like this.
Yang Yingchan gazed at him, silent for a long mont. The hands pressed against his chest went limp and powerless.
Lu Mingyuan could sowhat understand her thoughts. She was timid and apprehensive, afraid for her future, and afraid he would be held accountable. This woman had spent her days in the Capital City in constant fear. Right now, she was like a fragile little rabbit.
Lu Mingyuan, however, believed that he would be safest only if he did sothing with Princess Consort Zhao.
Only then would his father, the Emperor, be at ease.
When his matter at the Drumming Institute was rejected, he had already slled that sothing was wrong. He had beco a threat to Lu Yunqing’s path to the throne. Soone didn’t want to see him leave the palace.
’If this continues, the stains on my reputation will beco fewer and fewer. Sooner or later, things will change, and that can’t be allowed to happen.’
Originally, Lu Mingyuan had planned to wait for the day Yang Yingchan willingly threw herself into his arms. But now, it seed the plan had changed. It was partly due to circumstances, and partly a matter of her reluctant compliance.
Lu Mingyuan grabbed a corner of the quilt and flicked it open with a RUSTLE. The thick comforter unfurled, obscuring everything from view.
A mont of intense struggle followed from under the quilt. Then, a Python Robe and a Jade Belt were tossed out from a gap in the covers.
It was unclear what happened next, but after another bout of struggling, a white undergarnt and a red skirt were thrown out.
Soon, the floor was scattered with clothes, including a woman’s private underthings.
...
Half an Hour later, the breathing in the darkness gradually cald. A delicate, hoarse, and worried voice ca from under the quilt:
"Will Your Highness... despise ?"
"How could I?"
Lu Mingyuan raised an eyebrow, his chest pressed tightly against his sister-in-law’s back, which was as smooth as fine jade.
He wrapped his arm around Yang Yingchan’s small waist, inhaling the faint fragrance of her hair, and whispered, "Shall we go wash up?"
"Mm... okay."
Yang Yingchan replied in a tiny voice.
Throwing on thin robes, the two of them left through a side door of the bedchamber. They looked outside to find heavy snow falling, blanketing the vermilion and glazed tiles, the black-eaved palace halls. The sky was filled with flurries, weaving a white curtain. An occasional winter plum blossom stood resilient in the wind and snow, creating the perfect picture of a snowy winter scene.
Lu Mingyuan stood behind Yang Yingchan, his large hands on her shoulders. The Martial Dao Primordial Qi flowing from his palms was incredibly warm, so neither of them felt the cold.
Facing the snow, Yang Yingchan sighed, "What a beautiful snowscape. The heavy snow ca so late this year. I wonder how long it will last."
The second half of her sentence was tinged with sadness.
Lu Mingyuan sensed the hidden aning in her words and whispered comfortingly in her ear, "If we can be drenched by the sa snow, we can consider our hair to have grown white together."
"So, Sister-in-law, it’s not too late."
Yang Yingchan’s heart trembled when she heard this line of poetry. She murmured, "’If we can be drenched by the sa snow, we can consider our hair to have grown white together...’"
Her gaze softened and wavered, her tender eyes, full of complex emotions, seed to lt.
Braving the heavy snow, the two made their way to the hot spring pool in a side hall.
Steam filled the air. The water of the man-made spring was a little hot, but for weather like this, it was just right.
At first, the two of them just washed themselves normally. After about the ti it takes for half an incense stick to burn, a scorching hot body leaned in close, whispering:
"Brother-in-law... I’ve found a spot that I can’t seem to get clean."
"What spot..."
Lu Mingyuan had just turned his head when a warm face covered his mouth. It was a fiery kiss, clumsy in its execution but wonderfully eager.
He had been prepared for a battle of endurance, but he never expected things to develop like this. It was simply outrageous.
They held the kiss for twenty breaths before breaking apart. Yang Yingchan’s skin was burning hot, her face flushed as if drunk, like it was being consud by flas.
’In my eyes, is this still the sa dignified, grand, and self-possessed Princess Consort Zhao from before?’
Gazing at such a beauty before him, her eyelashes trembling, her soft, jade-like hands resting on his chest, Lu Mingyuan swept his arm through the water. With a great splash, the two of them sank beneath the surface.
Only the gurgling bubbles of the hot spring remained.
...
「Dawn broke on the first day of the new year.」
Yang Yingchan, draped in a robe, pushed open the window. She let the cold wind pour into the room, lifting her ssy hair and fluttering the collar of her robe, offering a fleeting glimpse of her snowy skin.
She stared blankly at the faintly whitening eastern sky, recalling the second half of the night as if it were all a dream.
It was the first new year she had spent with soone else. She savored the taste of sweet dew after a long drought, along with the feelings in her heart that she didn’t want to admit but knew were real.
If ti were turned back a year, and soone had told her she would fall for this unlearned, brothel-frequenting wastrel, she would have scoffed at the very idea.
But fate was a strange thing. The experience of rolling in the sheets last night was sothing she was destined to never forget.
"It’s morning?"
The man behind her rubbed his eyes and yawned.
Just as Yang Yingchan was about to speak, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Looking at Lu Mingyuan’s face, her heart felt a tenth of reassurance, three-tenths of lingering fear, and the rest was pure worry.
"Your Highness, the things you said last night... were they from the heart?"
She was afraid Lu Mingyuan was only with her because of her status, only to use her.
Lu Mingyuan inhaled the faint fragrance from her hair and smiled. "I, Lu Mingyuan, may not be a good man, but I never go back on my word."
"Rest assured, Sister-in-law. From now on, you need not fear anything."
With that, he left a kiss on her cheek.
Then, he got up to dress. Facing the Copper Mirror, he looked to be in excellent condition—full of vigor and utterly refreshed.
His gaze gradually grew profound.
’Today is the Grand Banquet of Ten Thousand Nations and the Demon Slaying Conference. Envoys from every nation and many of the Princes will be in attendance. It’s also my one and only chance to make an appearance before all the nations. I’d better keep a low profile.’
...
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