Chapter Twelve: The Broken Engagement

That night, the palace was ablaze with lights, filled with music and laughter—a scene of unparalleled festivity. Palace attendants moved with solemn faces, carrying exquisite dishes and fine wine, their steps unhurried and graceful as they all made their way toward the Hall of Auspicious Joy.

Tonight’s banquet was held especially for the distinguished guests who had traveled from the distant lands of Xining; there could be no delay.

Within the Hall of Auspicious Joy, Song Mian sat at the place of honor with Empress Yuan by his side. Below them, seated on both sides, were the noble consorts from each palace and the princes and princesses. Further down were Rong Jiu and her companions, and finally, the civil and military officials.

In the hall, a troupe of graceful dancers with faces like peach blossoms moved in rhythm with the undulating music, their gauzy skirts fluttering lightly in the air. Their delicate allure was tinged with charm, making it hard for anyone to look away.

Yet amid all the merriment, some rejoiced while others were troubled.

The ones in high spirits were Rong Jiu and the ministers. Rong Jiu asked for little—some entertainment, good food, fine wine, and a handsome man to admire (naturally, Song Moting)—and her mood was easily lifted. The ministers, on the other hand, were delighted by Rong Jiu’s presence and the prospect of an alliance between the two countries.

Those with worries were Song Mian, Rong Le, and Song Moting.

Song Mian’s anxiety stemmed from the day’s earlier incident, and Song Moci’s absence from the banquet due to drunkenness had made him lose face. He felt awkward, unsure how to explain matters to Rong Jiu and her companions, yet unable to bring them up at this moment. With his mind so troubled, how could he enjoy the festivities?

Rong Le’s distress was for another reason: at such an important banquet, Song Moci—Rong Jiu’s future husband—was absent. Was this not a direct slight to them? This strengthened his resolve: Rong Jiu absolutely could not marry Song Moci.

As for Song Moting… he could only lament that every time Song Moci got into trouble, he was the one left to clean up the mess. Normally, aside from family gatherings, he would never attend such banquets—he detested lively crowds, and even more, he loathed the false flattery of court. Yet tonight, everything was an exception. First, because of Song Moci’s absence, he was harassed by Rong Jiu and, in a fit of pique, had to take her to the Mingxiang Pavilion in search of his brother—a place so sordid it made him want to retch. Now, because Song Moci was not present, his own father pestered him to the point of a splitting headache, forcing him to agree to receive Rong Jiu and her party before and after the banquet in Song Moci’s stead, though his face was thunderous throughout.

Before the banquet ended, Rong Jiu and her group left early because Rong Jiu had gotten drunk. Rong Le, fearing she would cause a scene and lose face, hastily took her away—after all, they had already witnessed her drunken antics before.

This, however, gave Song Moting the chance he wanted. Taking the opportunity to escort Rong Le and the others out, he slipped away as well. Song Mian, who had been waiting the entire time for Song Moting’s report, was left fuming when the banquet ended and his son was nowhere to be found. He could only pound his chest in anger—none of his sons could be relied upon!

Back at Rongyuan, freed from her brothers’ control, Rong Jiu became like a wild horse off its tether, leaping onto stools one moment and climbing onto tables the next, babbling nonsense all the while.

“Come on, big brother, second brother, let’s play a drinking game! And Amu, you too!”

“Keep drinking! Down it, bottoms up!”

“Hah! Monkey, where do you think you’re running? Watch me, Old Sun, give you a whack!”

“Waves upon waves, I tell you, I’m not bragging. Around here, when it comes to drinking, I, Rong Jiu, have never feared anyone. I drink my fill, but never get drunk—hic—full now.”

…

Watching Rong Jiu’s antics, Rong Le felt his head spinning. Yet, he couldn’t just leave her be; she bounced everywhere, and he had to follow, afraid she’d hurt herself.

“I told you all to keep an eye on her—don’t let little sister drink too much. Look what happened. Luckily, she only started once we were back.” Rong Le glared at Rong Xian and Amu, exasperated. Had he known they were unreliable, he would have sat next to Rong Jiu himself.

“But, Ninth Sister barely drank a few cups. Who knew the wine in Youzhou would be stronger than in Xining?” Rong Xian scratched his head, sounding guilty as he always did when Rong Le was angry.

“Amu kept telling the princess not to drink, but she wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t stop her,” Amu said, lowering her head in grievance.

“All right, what we need now is to figure out how to get her to stop. Who knows how long she’ll keep this up!” Rong Le massaged his throbbing temples, tempted to simply knock Rong Jiu out.

“Let’s just get her down first,” he said.

Saying this, Rong Le stepped forward to lift Rong Jiu off the table, but as soon as he touched her, she cried out and landed a hard kick to his face.

“Hah! Demon, don’t touch me! Take my Shadowless Kick!”

Caught off guard, Rong Le found himself intimately acquainted with the floor, clutching his face.

Rong Xian and Amu, watching from the side, couldn’t help but snicker—it was the first time they’d ever seen their big brother in such a sorry state.

“What are you laughing at? The two of you, get her down!” Rong Le glared at them.

“Oh, right, right.” They tried to stifle their laughter and went forward.

Rong Jiu, after all, had martial training. Though the two approached cautiously, her position on the table gave her an advantage, and they couldn’t risk hurting her. In the end, both received a kick to the face as well.

At this, Rong Le finally felt a bit of balance restored.

The next day, Rong Jiu, having caused such a ruckus the night before, slept until noon before finally waking.

As soon as she opened her eyes, her head throbbed dully. Fortunately, Amu had prepared a hangover remedy for her in advance. After drinking it, she felt somewhat better.

“Amu, what time is it?” she asked, rubbing her temples.

“Princess, it’s just past midday,” Amu replied as she helped Rong Jiu up to wash and dress.

“What? It’s so late! Why didn’t you wake me sooner? There’s something important I have to do today!”

“The eldest prince instructed me not to disturb you, since you were up so late last night.”

“Fine, fine. I didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did I?” Rong Jiu asked guiltily. She remembered drinking too much, but the rest was a blur. She knew she tended to misbehave when drunk.

Amu thought of last night’s events, but remembering Rong Le’s warning to keep it secret, she swallowed her words and shook her head.

“Whew, that’s a relief.” Rong Jiu let out a breath. She didn’t want to embarrass herself again. She really had to be more careful in the future!

At breakfast, Rong Jiu ate while eyeing her two brothers across the table. Their furtive glances and the bruises on their faces made her wonder if they’d run into assassins last night.

“Hey, brothers, what happened to you? Did we have an assassin in the house last night?” She finally couldn’t hold back her curiosity.

“No, no, nothing like that. Don’t worry, little Jiu, we’re perfectly safe,” Rong Xian replied with a forced smile.

“That’s right, nothing to worry about. Eat up,” Rong Le chimed in.

“But your faces…”

“We fell by accident,” Rong Le said, keeping a straight face.

No sooner had he spoken than Rong Xian looked at him as though he’d seen a miracle. Had he heard right? His big brother actually lied—a once-in-a-century occurrence!

Shocked as he was, Rong Xian knew the situation and quickly agreed, “Yes, that’s right, just as big brother said!”

“But…” Rong Jiu frowned, something didn’t feel right. Was it just coincidence? Had they both fallen at the same time by arrangement?

“Oh, enough about that. You said you had something to do today. What is it?” Fearing she’d probe further and expose them, Rong Xian hurriedly changed the subject. He had no wish to be mocked by Rong Jiu.

“Oh, I need to go to the palace,” Rong Jiu replied, taking a few bites of rice.

“Why do you need to go to the palace?” Rong Le set down his chopsticks.

“After everything that’s happened, you can’t seriously expect me to marry the third prince. Not that I’d ever consider him. I’m going to the palace today to speak with His Majesty and ask for a different match,” Rong Jiu said earnestly, putting down her chopsticks.

“You’re right, this does need to be resolved. But let us handle it,” Rong Le nodded in agreement.

“Yes, leave it to us,” Rong Xian said, patting his chest for emphasis. After all, it wasn’t proper for a young lady to bring up such matters herself.

“Oh, but it’s different. I’m the one who’s to marry, so it’s better if I speak to His Majesty myself.”

In the end, faced with Rong Jiu’s insistence, her brothers could only agree.

In the Hall of Supreme Harmony, Song Moci knelt on the floor, his expression grim, gone was his usual playful demeanor. Song Mian sat before him, livid with anger.

“What did you just say?”

“Your son asks that Your Majesty rescind your decree. I will not, under any circumstances, marry the Fifth Princess of Xining,” Song Moci replied, lifting his head with resolute eyes.

“You scoundrel!” Song Mian roared, sweeping a teacup off the table in fury. “How can you say such things? A marriage alliance is a matter of state—do you think it can be changed on a whim? Is this child’s play to you? And besides, you’re old enough now, yet you spend your days idling about. It’s time you had a princess consort to keep you in line. As for the Fifth Princess, I know her well—she’s the most suitable choice for the third prince’s consort.”

“There’s more than one prince in Youzhou who hasn’t married. Even my elder brother hasn’t taken a consort. Why not marry the Fifth Princess to him? Besides, I already have someone I admire. If it’s the vacant position of princess consort that worries you, I can marry her at once.” As Song Moci spoke, he thought of the woman he’d glimpsed at Mingxiang Pavilion, his heart beating faster.

“Nonsense!” Song Mian barked, though his anger abated somewhat. In truth, hearing his son say he had someone he admired brought him some comfort—he did hope for his son’s future happiness.

Noticing his father’s temper cooling, Song Moci pressed on, “Besides, my own reputation in Jing’an is in tatters. I doubt the Fifth Princess would want such a husband.”

In this, he was quite right—Rong Jiu was already on her way to the palace to break the engagement herself.

Song Mian considered this, recalling the events of yesterday, and found his son’s words not without merit. He felt his resolve waver.

“I’ve never asked anything of you before, Father. This time, please grant my wish!” As he spoke, Song Moci kowtowed. He knew well that tugging at his father’s heartstrings was the surest way to win.

“So be it, as you wish. Just don’t come to regret it,” Song Mian sighed. With things as they were, he couldn’t force the matter.

“Your son thanks Your Majesty!” Song Moci’s eyes flashed briefly with delight, but when he raised his head, the expression was gone. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

“Wait. This girl you claim to admire—which family is she from, how old is she, what’s her character like? Bring her to meet me when the time is right.”

Now Song Moci was at a loss. How could he answer? He’d only met her once and couldn’t even be sure she was the one he’d marry. His earlier words had only been meant to placate his father.

“What, unwilling? Or was it all just to fool me?” Song Mian eyed him suspiciously.

Well, that last part was spot on.

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t dare deceive you. It’s just that young ladies are shy. When the time is right, I’ll bring her to meet you,” Song Moci replied, wiping the cold sweat from his brow, uncertain if Meng Zigui had found out anything yet.

“Hmph! It had better be so,” Song Mian snorted, waving him off—there were plenty of other matters awaiting his attention. His son had refused the marriage, and now he had to think of how to explain things to the other side.