Chapter 5: Sending a Message

The numbness on her face made her close her eyes involuntarily.
She let out a long breath.
Surviving another brush with death left her body limp and weak, yet after the lingering fear passed, a tremor of excitement rose inexplicably within her.

Yan Ling suspected there was something wrong with her.

Whenever she faced Xie Chongqing, it was as if she lost control of herself.

Xie Chongqing spoke with casual indifference.
“Your Highness wandering about every day doesn’t seem appropriate.
The Bamboo Clear Courtyard is peaceful and secluded—staying there day after day would suit you just fine.”

This was confinement.

“Shaoshi jests,” she said through clenched teeth.

Yan Ling was forced into half a day of confinement.
She simply reduced her outings thereafter—her objective had already been achieved anyway.

“Madam, Lady Fan and Madam Fan wish to see you,” Qingtao whispered at her ear.

“Tell them I’m unwell and cannot receive guests.”

Qingtao went to decline on her behalf.
Madam Fan did not grow angry upon hearing this and merely bowed.
“In that case, we shall return another day to pay our respects.”

After Qingtao left, the young woman beside Madam Fan advised softly,
“Mother, why insist on seeing her? She’s merely a concubine.”

The young lady wore her hair in a coiled spirit-serpent bun pinned with a green jade hairpin.
A teal ribbon trailed down her back, and she was dressed in a bean-green half-sleeved, high-waisted ru skirt.
Her brows and eyes were clear and dignified, her presence graceful.

“In all these years, has the household head ever personally brought someone back?” Madam Fan replied.
“Yuning, if you wish to become the household head’s wife in the future, this woman is unavoidable.
Understanding her background is essential.”

The young lady called Yuning nodded obediently.

Yet as she looked at the courtyard’s location, unease stirred in her heart.
She hailed from a great southern clan, but in recent years their influence had waned for lack of allies at court, while the northern great clans stood united.

For the sake of the family’s future, her father had willingly become the household head’s adviser.
Over the years, their ties with the Xie clan had grown closer than most.

She herself was close with the Xie sisters.
Her food, clothing, and daily expenses followed the standards of Xie clan ladies, and she even studied at the Xie private academy.

The servants of the Xie residence all addressed her as “young lady.”
Almost everyone could see her intentions toward the household head and tacitly regarded her as the future mistress of the house.

A powerful alliance between aristocratic families was, after all, what everyone expected.

“If this concubine becomes overly favored,” Madam Fan added coolly,
“then when the time comes, one must act decisively.
Never leave behind a source of trouble.”

Fan Yuning agreed aloud, suppressing the strange ripples in her heart.

---

When Gongsun Zhi had offered to help her that day, Yan Ling had not dared place her trust in him at once.
She had merely excused herself, saying she did not wish to trouble him.

Another day passed.
She once again went alone in her wheelchair to Fuqu Garden, and at a glance she saw Gongsun Zhi craning his neck, peering about restlessly.

“Sir,” she called, steering the wheelchair toward him.

Gongsun Zhi stepped forward, then seemed to think it improper to get too close and stopped.
“I’ve been waiting for you these past two days.”

“My apologies. I haven’t been well.”

“I tossed and turned for two nights,” he said earnestly.
“I couldn’t help but speak my true feelings.
What I said that day was sincere.
If you have anything you need, madam, just say the word.
To find a kindred spirit is no easy thing.”

“Master Gongsun is too kind. Xueci truly has nothing with which to repay you.”

That day, mindful of his status, Yan Ling had not agreed immediately.
She hadn’t expected him to be so proactive.

“I do have an idea to look for my elder brother,” she said after a pause.
“We were separated near Qixia Mountain.
If you spread a folk song that only he and I know—one telling ten, ten telling a hundred—then if my brother is still alive, he will know I’m searching for him.
Just tell him it’s Xueci.”

“Oh, and my brother has blue eyes.
He has some Hu blood.”

“Rest assured, madam,” Gongsun Zhi promised.
“If there is any news, I will inform you at once.”

Yan Ling caught sight of Qingtao not far away.
“Thank you. But please act discreetly.
My brother has traveled far and wide and made many enemies.
If this becomes too conspicuous and implicates you, that would be ill.”

After careful thought, she abandoned the idea of having him send word directly to the Wang residence.

He was, after all, a retainer of the Xie household.
Even if the guards allowed him to see her uncle and cousin, the fewer people who knew her true identity, the better.

Though both the Wang and Xie clans resided on Wu Yi Lane, their relations were far from amicable now.

Yan Ling did not wish to gamble.

As Fan Yuning stepped into Fuqu Garden, she saw this very scene.
Even from such a distance, the woman’s bearing was unmistakably exquisite.
She recognized the Daoist-robed man as well—nothing more than a smooth-talking commoner.

Upon seeing Fan Yuning, Gongsun Zhi’s expression changed.
“I’ll take my leave for now. We’ll talk another day.”

With that, he departed in haste.

“Fan Yuning of the Fan clan greets the young lady,” a gentle voice said.

Yan Ling turned to meet her gaze, nodded coolly, and withdrew her smile.

Daughter of Master Fan—one could tell just from the name.

“Yesterday I was unwell, so I declined your mother’s invitation,” Yan Ling said politely.
“I hope Madam did not take offense.
Another day, I will surely call to apologize in person.”

“There’s no need for such courtesy,” Fan Yuning replied with a smile.
“You and I are of similar age.
My mother is broad-minded and would never take offense at a junior.”

Yan Ling raised a brow slightly.
With just a few words, Fan Yuning had subtly established seniority.
If Yan Ling failed to address Madam Fan as Aunt or Elder Aunt in the future, it would somehow be her fault.

That was, of course, assuming Madam Fan was worthy of such a title.

Fan Yuning knelt beside her.
“May I ask your honored surname, madam?”

“My humble surname is Yan—Yan as in solemnity.”

Fan Yuning searched her memory.
There were no aristocratic families surnamed Yan, only commoner households.

“Why does Madam Yan wear a veil?”

“My face is marred.
I fear it may frighten others.”

“I’ve been in the Xie residence for many years, yet this is the first time I’ve seen the household head bring someone back.”

“I was separated from my brother.
The household head showed me mercy.”

Fan Yuning nodded in understanding.

“I came today rather abruptly because of an important matter,” she said.
“My mother instructed me to make this visit.
Tomorrow, the residence will host a Qu Shui Liu Shang banquet.
It will be only the Xie clan sisters and the household retainers—no outsiders.
We hope you’ll join us and enjoy the festivities together.”

Yan Ling couldn’t help studying her.
Fan Yuning spoke as though she were already family.
It seemed the Fan and Xie clans were even closer than she had imagined.

She hadn’t wanted to go.
Yet for some reason, she sensed a hint of hostility from Fan Yuning.

“Very well,” she agreed, her eyes curving slightly.

After Fan Yuning left, Yan Ling grew bored and went to Xie Chongqing’s study to choose a book.

The moment she opened the door, she saw that the man who should have been at the traveling palace was seated behind the desk, occasionally turning a page.

Light filtered through the lattice window, spilling over his shoulders.
His high-tied hair was rimmed with gold, making him look like an untouchable immortal.

Her long skirt brushed the floor as she walked in slowly.
Keeping a strict sense of distance, she went straight to the bookshelf and took a book without speaking to him.

“There’s a banquet at the residence tomorrow,” she said stiffly.
“Fan Yuning invited me to attend.”

Xie Chongqing did not look up or respond.

“What a pity for that Lady Fan,” she sighed lightly.
“The concubine has affection, but the lord does not.”

Xie Chongqing’s gaze shifted to her, his distaste for her sarcasm deepening.

“If you wish to be confined, just say so,” he said calmly.
“And stay away from Gongsun Zhi.”

Yan Ling’s smile froze, though her tone remained casual.
“What do you mean by that?”

“Someone like Gongsun Zhi—a commoner with no scheming mind—shouldn’t be dragged into your games.”

Yan Ling felt an urge to tear every book in the room apart.
“So in your eyes, I’m that kind of calculating person?”

Xie Chongqing let out a short, mocking laugh.
“Aren’t you?”

Yan Ling’s chest rose and fell several times.
Still facing away from him, she smiled without warmth.
“What exactly have I done to make you think I’m so scheming?”

“Skipping lessons, instigating the Eighth Prince to take the blame for you, using any means to win—must I spell it all out for you, Your Highness?”
The prejudice and contempt in his voice were so thick that Yan Ling’s fingers crumpled the book in her hand.

Her eyes grew hot.
In a fit of reckless defiance, she said,
“Yes. Just as you see it—I am that scheming.”

‘You must regret saving me,’ she thought.

Suddenly, she no longer wanted to stay here.
She wanted to throw the book down and leave.
But that would be too undignified, as though her sore spot had been struck.

Yan Ling straightened her back again and continued reading with forced composure.
Only her trembling hands, unable to hold the book steady, betrayed her emotions.

From Xie Chongqing’s angle, he could see her snow-white neck and the faint tremor of the book.

---

The next day, Yan Ling donned her veil and had Qingtao wheel her to the banquet.

The venue was Tingquan Pavilion within the Xie residence.
Stone had been carved to channel spring water into a pool.
The clear water murmured softly as the guests sat on stones by the pool’s edge, cups and dishes drifting along the current.

Those in attendance were indeed all members of the Xie clan.
Yet the sheer number was impressive—pipes and strings resounded, the hall filled with people.

Without family backing or status, Yan Ling blended inconspicuously into the crowd.
In contrast, Fan Yuning, who had invited her, moved among them with ease.

Yan Ling found a seat toward the back and sipped tea alone.
A Xie clan lady soon noticed her.
The woman wore a crimson half-sleeved, high-waisted ru skirt, flamboyant and radiant, adorned with pearls, jade, and emeralds—resplendent and dignified.

“I don’t recognize this lady. She seems unfamiliar,” the red-clad woman said, approaching slowly.

“This is Madam Yan, from the Bamboo Clear Courtyard,” Fan Yuning explained proactively at her side.

Xie Ying nodded and asked a few probing questions.
Yan Ling’s flawless answers revealed nothing.

Xie Ying’s expression turned subtle.
Either this woman was deeply shrewd, or her background was too shameful to mention.
Xie Ying leaned toward the latter, and a trace of disdain surfaced.

Aristocrats had their arrogance, and retainers were ranked as well.
Those of humble origin simply did not catch their eye.

Xie Ying ignored Yan Ling and moved on.
Yan Ling, meanwhile, reflected bitterly:
Her imperial father lay gravely ill in the traveling palace, coughing blood, while the aristocracy feasted and reveled here.

She scanned the surroundings and did not see Gongsun Zhi.
Regret stirred in her heart.
She thought that once the atmosphere grew livelier, slipping away quietly would be no trouble.

By the floating-cup pool, young men played the qin and young women performed sword dances.
Caps and carriages fluttered, embroidered garments flowed—a splendid sight.

“How about we place fruit on people’s heads and compete in archery?”
Xie Ying’s younger sister, Xie Ruo, suggested with a bright laugh.

Qingtao whispered an explanation into Yan Ling’s ear.
“The household head is third in rank.
Those two ladies are the Fourth and Fifth Misses, both born of the main wife.
The other two are concubine-born—Xie Xuan and Xie Zhen.”

Yan Ling looked toward the sisters who were clearly being excluded by Xie Ying.
They seemed about the same age as Xie Ying and Xie Ruo, yet their expressions were cautious and timid.

“We’ve got our competitors.
Who will top the fruit?” Xie Ruo looked around, then pointed at the two sisters.
“Sixth Sister, Seventh Sister, you go.
We’ll take turns—later it’ll be our turn to top the fruit.”

Fan Yuning added, “We’re still one short.”

Xie Ying’s gaze shifted to Yan Ling.
“Would Madam Yan be willing to serve as the third?”

Yan Ling refused calmly.
“My leg is injured. I can’t stand.”

Xie Ying smiled.
“That’s no matter. Our archery is quite decent.
Could it be Madam Yan fears our skill is lacking?”

Aristocratic ladies were trained no less than the young men.
Yan Ling had seen plenty of such thrill-seeking, audacious games.

“Of course not. I’m only afraid of burdening Lady Xie,” she declined again.

“No need to worry. It’s just for fun,” Xie Ying insisted, as though refusal would make Yan Ling ungrateful.

Yan Ling sighed and had Qingtao wheel her into position opposite them.
Servants placed fruit atop their heads.

The crowd’s murmurs were noisy; she couldn’t hear what was being said across from her.
She waited for quite some time.

Xie Ying stood against the light.
Yan Ling could barely make out the judge’s signal and squinted slightly.

Suddenly, Yan Ling’s lashes trembled.
Before she could dodge, a sharp pain pierced her ear.

Cheers erupted.

Yan Ling touched her ear blankly.
Her fingertips came away smeared with blood, a vivid red slowly dripping from her delicate, pale ear.

The other sisters fared no better.
A lock of hair had been sheared from Xie Xuan’s temple.
An arrow still stuck in Xie Zhen’s hair bun as she collapsed to the ground in disgrace and fury.

Xie Ruo looked innocent.
Xie Ying wore an expression of perfectly timed remorse.
“I’m so sorry, Madam Yan. I injured you.
You must not have seen such games before—there’s no need to be afraid.”

Yan Ling replied calmly,
“It’s our turn.”

“You may not know,” Xie Ying said lightly,
“but once the shooting starts, it cannot stop unless a hit is made.
Only then can the turn change.”

Yan Ling met her gaze for a long moment without speaking—until Xie Ying nocked another arrow and drew the bow.

The crowd suddenly parted.

Xie Chongqing appeared silently, hands clasped behind his back, watching the scene with detached indifference.