Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two: Songbirds and Swallows

Immediately, someone chimed in, “I wonder who put so much effort into this—one of them even looks a bit like the princess consort.”

“If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have noticed, but now that you mention it, it’s true,” another voice agreed. Each of their voices was melodious, but the words they spoke were far from pleasant.

Lian Yue, who had already turned to leave, stopped in her tracks. Smoothing the gloom from her face, she strode forward with purpose. Since someone was so eager to invite trouble, it would be almost discourteous not to oblige them.

She quickly counted—there were seven women approaching. It must have been quite a feat to assemble them; each wore a different colored dress, and upon closer inspection, each was stunning in her own right, with alluring figures and striking features. It was no wonder, really—these women were either imperial gifts or tokens from high officials. Without exceptional beauty, they would never have earned such a place.

Lian Yue’s gaze swept over them before settling on the woman in the center, dressed in a peach-pink gown. She was the first to speak just now.

According to the customs of the Empire of Rainbow Garments, only the principal wife could wear true red. Yet this woman’s attire, nearly red, showed both audacity and ambition.

Looking closely, she was indeed a beauty, with skin like creamy jade and delicate features. Her almond-shaped eyes, tinged with both mirth and a hint of petulance, gave her a unique allure. Her jet-black hair, sleek and supple, was styled into a soaring cloud bun, adorned with twelve white jade bell hairpins—six on each side—which chimed melodiously as she walked. On either side of her bun, twin long pins of jade, shaped like butterflies circling magnolia blossoms, added a touch of lively grace. Atop her head, a fully blooming “Drunken Consort” peony glowed with fiery brilliance, its layered petals shimmering with golden and crimson hues, clustered like clouds ablaze, making her dark hair seem to overflow with luster. Her peach-pink gown, the latest fashion, perfectly accentuated her seductive figure.

Her voice was as clear and sweet as a songbird’s. Overall, she was a bewitching beauty, but Lian Yue’s judgment was that she was all appearance, no wit. If she were clever, she wouldn’t allow herself to be used as a pawn so readily. Though Lian Yue had little direct experience with such matters—her own father had no concubines—her two uncles’ households had plenty. Overhearing enough over the years, she’d learned a thing or two.

There was a type of woman in the inner chambers: passably attractive, enjoying a measure of favor, and with constant flattery from those around her, she’d come to believe she could soar above the rest. Such women were the easiest to deceive, the quickest to blunder under someone’s instigation, and in the end, they never understood how they’d brought about their own downfall.

Reflecting on this, a trace of pity entered Lian Yue’s otherwise appraising gaze.

Such a look was precisely what these less-favored women despised. The woman’s previously charming almond eyes darkened instantly.

By the time Lian Yue had finished her assessment, she had drawn near, greeting the woman in peach with a broad smile. “A dog that bites doesn’t bark. I wonder if you’ve ever heard that saying, auntie!” Lian Yue threw particular emphasis on the last word.

The term instantly infuriated the almond-eyed beauty. "Auntie" was not a title any young woman would wish to bear. Before she could retort, another voice snapped at Lian Yue, “Do you not know your place, newcomer? Is that any way to address the princess consort?”

At the sound, Lian Yue immediately recognized the second speaker as the one who’d first echoed the peach-clad woman’s words. She had been hoping to single her out, and here she was, volunteering herself. Lian Yue eyed the woman in pale green, noting how the green only served to make the peach stand out all the more. Yet it was clear the “leaf” was not content with her supporting role. The flash of schadenfreude in her eyes when Lian Yue rebuked the peach-clad woman had not escaped Lian Yue’s notice.

She had no patience for such people. If you chose to be someone’s follower, you ought to behave accordingly and keep your head down. Without hesitation, Lian Yue slapped the woman and barked, “Princess consort? Where? Which eye of yours sees a princess consort here?”

The slap left the green-clad woman stunned, her cheek burning with pain. She faltered, her voice growing timid, “Isn’t Sister Yufei the princess consort? Who are you to—”

“Oh?” Lian Yue lifted her hand again, her almond eyes narrowing with dangerous intent. The green-clad woman recoiled, frightened into silence. Although they’d come deliberately to cause trouble, none of them were ignorant of Lian Yue’s true identity. Facing her, the woman dared not question why she’d been slapped, only stammering, “The secondary consort is also a princess consort…”

Of course, Lian Yue knew there was a secondary consort in the prince’s residence. From the moment these women had appeared, she’d recognized the peach-clad woman as Zhong Yufei, the highest ranking among them.

Zhong Yufei’s father was Zhong Kui, the Empire’s Grand General. With such a background, she could easily have become a principal wife, but she’d set her sights on Prince Nanping, Qiao Bin. She could not surpass Lian Yu’s claim, and so had to settle for the position of secondary consort—hence her arrogance.

The woman in green was Yuan Ruoqing, who had been sent to the prince’s residence after a banquet. She had little standing and had attached herself to Zhong Yufei.

Off to the side, Yao Yao, eager for her moment, widened her innocent eyes and asked with feigned confusion, “Sister Yu, is a secondary consort the same as a princess consort? If so, doesn’t that mean the prince’s residence has several princess consorts?” She even counted on her fingers. “That’s three. If all three are together and someone calls out ‘princess consort,’ who should answer? All three at once?”

Yao Yao’s tone was sweetly naive, but her words left everyone speechless.

Lian Yue silently praised her, then, allowing no chance for interruption, explained earnestly, “There can be only one princess consort. ‘Secondary consort’ is just a title meant for outsiders; in truth, it’s no more than a concubine. For instance, a man can only formally marry one woman—the rest, whether they climb into his bed themselves or are forced upon him, are all concubines. Concubines can be bought or sold. If he’s displeased, he can dismiss them with a single word. Do you understand?”

Of course, Yao Yao understood. Her eyes widened as she looked at Zhong Yufei, whose face had grown thunderous, before turning to Yuan Ruoqing with a “friendly” smile. “I see! So, in this residence, there’s only one princess consort, only one mistress. Auntie, do you understand, or shall I explain again?”

Being addressed as “auntie” nearly made Yuan Ruoqing choke. She was only sixteen or seventeen, after all; the title was a grave insult. Unlike Zhong Yufei, she lacked status. As soon as Yao Yao uttered “auntie,” laughter erupted around her, deepening her resentment toward Yao Yao. Lian Yue’s slap she could endure—she had no choice—but this little girl, whom she assumed was merely Lian Yue’s maid, was another matter entirely. Besides, their purpose today had yet to be achieved. Though Yao Yao called Lian Yue “sister,” no one had confirmed she was the famed Miss Yue. Yuan Ruoqing immediately turned on Yao Yao, her voice shrill, “And who do you think you are? Who said you could speak?”

Lian Yue looked at her with disdain. “Oh, thank you for reminding me—I nearly forgot to introduce myself. But are you truly ignorant of who I am, or just pretending?”

“That’s right! I even called her ‘Sister Yu,’ but you’re still putting on an act. Honestly, you really are a silly auntie,” Yao Yao teased, sticking out her tongue at Yuan Ruoqing. If you want to bully someone, you need to be able to get a reaction; otherwise, what’s the point? Admit you’re faking and you’re a silly auntie; deny it and you’re simply a fool.

With things laid out so plainly, the women across from them fell silent, tacitly conceding the point.

One, more perceptive than the rest, finally broke the tension. “Let’s not quibble—it’s all a misunderstanding. We failed to recognize Miss Yue just now. No wonder she looked so much like the princess consort. It was our mistake.”