Chapter Ten: Complete Contrasts

After winding through five or six corridors, Rong Jiu’s legs felt sore and weary; the palace of Youzhou was certainly far larger than she’d imagined.

“Lord Ji, how much farther until we arrive?” Rong Jiu couldn’t help but ask, her exhaustion tinging her words with a hint of complaint.

The prince of Youzhou truly enjoyed putting on airs. She was, after all, a guest from afar—at the very least, his future sister-in-law. Shouldn’t he personally escort her and show her around?

Lord Ji was sensitive to moods; hearing her tone, he immediately recognized her impatience. Yet he could do nothing. The eldest prince was cold by nature, and since receiving his title, he cared even less for worldly affairs. Were it not for the emperor’s trickery—claiming he had urgent matters—he wouldn’t have set foot in the palace at all.

“Your Highness, please be patient. We’re nearly there,” Lord Ji replied with a smile.

Passing through a winding corridor, a gentle breeze swept by, carrying the subtle fragrance of lotus flowers that refreshed the spirit.

Her fatigue vanished, and Rong Jiu leaned forward, peering ahead. Within the bamboo pavilion, entwined with brocade dragons, a figure in white robes fluttered on the wind. Two stray locks drifted across sharply cut brows and eyes, presenting the image of an immortal fallen to earth.

So this was the eldest prince of Youzhou? Could such beauty truly exist in this world?

Rong Jiu swallowed hard, hastily smoothing the loose strands at her temples and curling her lips into what she considered her most enchanting smile.

“Your Highness, you’ve waited long,” Lord Ji stepped forward, smiling as he saluted. “This is the Fifth Princess of Xining, newly arrived. The emperor has ordered that you kindly guide her around the palace.”

“Ninth daughter greets Your Highness.” Rong Jiu spoke softly.

At her gentle greeting, Song Moting paused as he poured tea, his brows knitting slightly, annoyance flickering across his eyes. “Is this the ‘urgent matter’ Father spoke of?”

“Indeed,” Lord Ji replied, wiping cold sweat from his brow. Years of experience told him Song Moting was surely displeased.

“I’ll leave matters to Your Highness. I have pressing business elsewhere.” With those words, Lord Ji vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.

Rong Jiu was briefly embarrassed but quickly grew excited.

Was Lord Ji creating a private moment for them?

She grinned mischievously, catching Ah Mu’s eye and signaling her. After months together, Ah Mu understood her princess well and disappeared as swiftly as Lord Ji.

Rong Jiu nodded in satisfaction, stepped forward, and moved closer to Song Moting. “I’m new here and must trouble Your Highness.”

She received no response.

Her smile froze. Rong Jiu coughed awkwardly—perhaps the prince’s hearing was poor?

“I’m new here and must trouble Your Highness,” she repeated, louder this time, but only the wind answered.

Now Rong Jiu realized the prince had no intention of acknowledging her.

Still, for someone as thick-skinned as Rong Jiu, this was nothing. If he didn’t move, neither would she. She plopped down opposite Song Moting, resting her chin in her hands and gazing at him dreamily.

Even tea drinking looked elegant when performed by someone so handsome!

Suddenly the world seemed to quiet; even the rustling of bamboo leaves faded, leaving only the pounding of her heart.

“How long does Your Highness intend to stare?” Song Moting finally broke, unable to tolerate her intense gaze.

“As long as Your Highness drinks tea, I’ll watch,” she replied.

Setting down his cup, Song Moting rose with a scowl and walked away. He’d never met a woman so lacking in decorum.

“Wait, Your Highness, where are you going?” Rong Jiu hurried after him.

“I am busy with state affairs and have no time for idle strolls. You should seek someone else,” he replied.

“That’s fine. I can wait until Your Highness is free.”

“I won’t be free for at least ten days—perhaps half a month.”

“I could wait a whole half year!”

Song Moting was speechless. Unable to win the argument, he quickened his pace to shake her off.

Yet, even outside the palace gates, Rong Jiu followed close behind.

“What, exactly, does the princess want?” His cold voice betrayed a trace of anger; Song Moting was truly losing patience—no matter how he tried, he could not rid himself of her.

“Ouch!” Rong Jiu, distracted by keeping up, failed to notice Song Moting had stopped and bumped straight into his back.

“Cough, cough—I don’t want anything. Your Highness, please continue your work. When you finish, then…” Rong Jiu smiled awkwardly, but he interrupted her.

“I have no time—never, at any time. Do you understand?” Song Moting turned, towering over her, his deep eyes devoid of emotion. The innate pressure made Rong Jiu’s body tremble.

“But… I don’t know my way around, and there’s no one to guide me. If I got lost… or if someone coveted my beauty and tried to harm me, I’m just a weak girl—what if…” She trailed off, feigning a pitiful expression.

A few black lines appeared on Song Moting’s forehead. Though he was unwilling, Rong Jiu was here as a diplomatic princess—if anything happened to her in Youzhou, he’d have to answer for it.

“Follow me,” he said curtly, turning to leave, though his pace slowed.

Rong Jiu flashed a triumphant victory sign and hurried after him.

After weaving through a few streets, Song Moting stopped before a brothel.

Rong Jiu eyed the sign reading “Fragrant Teahouse,” and the scantily clad, overly made-up women beckoning customers. She swallowed nervously.

So the prince had such tastes! He looked icy cold, but preferred such places.

Not that Rong Jiu minded. She was curious what a brothel looked like in ancient times.

“What are you dawdling for? Come here!” Song Moting was already at the entrance. Rong Jiu stuck out her tongue and scampered after him.

No sooner had they entered than the proprietress, Madam Luo, greeted them obsequiously.

“Oh! Isn’t this Your Highness? What brings you here today? Such a rare guest! Please, upstairs to a private room—I’ll select the best ladies for you; they’ll serve you well.”

“No need. I’m here to find someone,” Song Moting replied, his brows furrowing with distaste. He vowed never to set foot here again.

“Ah, looking for one of our girls? I’ll send for her.” Madam Luo’s delight grew, but then she noticed Rong Jiu behind him. “Your Highness brought someone? This girl is even more beautiful than our own! May I ask—?”

So familiar with the proprietress—he must be a regular! Rong Jiu looked at Song Moting with an expression of betrayed trust. He seemed to sense it and shot her a glare.

“I’m looking for a frequent guest—my third brother!” Song Moting declared, smirking at Rong Jiu.

Rong Jiu was stunned, her face darkening.

Third brother? That must be the Third Prince—her future husband! Visiting such places, and a regular, no less!

In an upstairs private room, three men and a woman sat together. The woman was alluring, with a seductive figure, clad in a scarlet, off-the-shoulder gauze dress, cradling a pipa in her arms. Her slender fingers danced across the strings, weaving a graceful, enchanting melody.

When the music ended, she smiled softly and lowered her gaze. “Thank you for your patience.”

“Hahaha, wonderful! Yun Niang, you are far too modest—no one in Jing’an City could match your playing,” the man in the center said.

He wore a blue brocade robe, a white folding fan in hand, and a golden belt at his waist. Refined and elegant, his face was a perfect portrait of beauty. A captivating aura surrounded him, making it impossible to look away; his charm blurred the lines between masculine and feminine, and his devilish good looks carried an air of casual maturity.

Yun Niang smiled faintly. “Your Highness flatters me; I am not as skilled as you say.”

“Nonsense, Yun Niang! I think Mo Ci is absolutely right. Ever since I heard Jade Lady play, no other music appeals to me,” said the man at Song Mo Ci’s left.

His face was sharply defined, seemingly carefree in appearance, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed intelligence. Thick black hair was tied high; beneath his sword-like brows were narrow peach blossom eyes, brimming with passion—one might easily fall for him. His lips, perfectly shaped, curved with a dazzling smile.

“Master Meng, don’t tease me. Everyone knows the music of Lady Ji is first in your heart.”

“All right, all right, pretend I never said it. Yun Niang, you’re exposing me in public! Still, what I said isn’t entirely false—some people have heard Jade Lady’s music and can’t tolerate anything else!” Meng Zigui grinned mischievously, glancing at Shen Ming Shan beside Song Mo Ci.

Suddenly named, Shen Ming Shan smiled slightly, saying nothing as he continued pouring tea. His long hair cascaded down as he lowered his head, exuding elegance and composure. It made one think that truly handsome men ought to wear their hair loose like him.

Yun Niang’s smile stiffened, and coolness clouded her eyes, but it vanished in a moment.

He was always so cold and distant, making one feel he was both near and far.

“Master Meng, please don’t make sport of me. I’d rather ask why you’re not with Lady Ji today and instead have come here.”

Meng Zigui looked at Song Mo Ci with distaste. “It’s his fault—he didn’t want to meet the princess and dragged the two of us along. I hear the Fifth Princess of Xining is a peerless beauty—how could this fellow not be interested?”

He drained his wine cup.

“That’s unfair. What’s the use of beauty? Am I so easily swayed by looks? Besides, if I actually married a princess, how would I continue my usual pursuits? There are plenty of princes in Youzhou—my eldest brother is married, so why must I marry? Even one concubine is more than enough trouble!” At the mention of the diplomatic marriage, Song Mo Ci’s face soured. He couldn’t understand his father’s intentions—first a forced concubine, now a princess, all under the guise of favoritism, yet every unpleasant task landed on him.

At that moment, Rong Jiu arrived at the private room with Song Moting, her anger rising as she gritted her teeth.

Well! The Third Prince of Youzhou was a notorious frequenter of brothels, and already had a concubine. All those rumors must have been about the eldest prince! Rong Jiu, no matter what, would never share a husband with another woman—especially not such a playboy.

A sudden crash startled Rong Jiu; she looked up to see Song Moting had kicked the door open.

All four inside were startled. Song Mo Ci stood, ready to curse, but seeing his eldest brother, his anger grew. “Well, well, isn’t this my brother, famed for shunning women? What brings you to the Fragrant Teahouse today? I can hardly believe it!”

“Hah, the future sister-in-law is here, yet you, Third Brother, remain here drinking and carousing in this den of filth. You bring shame to our royal house. Don’t compare yourself to me—we are not the same.” Song Moting raised his head in a cold sneer, his tone lofty and disdainful. Then he leaned close to Rong Jiu and whispered, “I’ve found the person for you. I’ll take my leave.”

“You—!”

In a battle of words, Song Mo Ci could never best his cunning elder brother. He’d hoped to ridicule him, but ended up outmaneuvered. He could only watch Song Moting depart.

A sudden slap resounded, and everyone stared in shock.

Song Mo Ci had been struck!

By a girl barely in her teens, no less—a girl whose beauty could topple kingdoms!

Indeed, Rong Jiu, unable to vent her anger, took it out on this playboy prince. She would never marry such a man, and it was better to make him dislike her.

“You… shameless!” Rong Jiu, after a moment’s struggle, managed to spit out those words and turned to leave.

Song Mo Ci touched his cheek where he’d been struck, stunned for a long time. Truthfully, Rong Jiu was only fourteen, and her blow was not strong. But Song Mo Ci was the Third Prince of Youzhou, the emperor’s favorite son, accustomed to all manner of things. Yet this slap—well, it sent his heart racing.

He found himself enchanted by Rong Jiu’s adorable, angry face! Yes, he was utterly captivated—spineless as it was!