Chapter 148: In the Imperial Garden

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Updated: August 13, 2013

Lian Yue’s steps faltered, and she instinctively denied, “No.” Yet her confidence was clearly lacking.

A shadow flickered in Qiao Zhi’s eyes. “There are many people in the Imperial Garden today. Sister Yue, being so radiant and charming, if you don’t want to invite unnecessary trouble, it’s better to stay with me.”

Lian Yue thought to herself, “Being with you is the real trouble.” But glancing around, she indeed noticed many young men’s gazes lingering on her. Before coming, her eldest sister had told her that such banquets also served as opportunities for promising young men and young ladies from noble families to meet each other.

She had to admit, this was quite a nuisance. With Qiao Zhi clinging to her like a stubborn sticker, she definitely wouldn’t be able to shake him off. Irritated, Lian Yue hurried after Yaoyao and the others who were chasing butterflies.

The Imperial Garden, as a royal botanical garden, naturally had its own charms. It was the season when flowers were in full bloom, with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering. When Lian Yue caught up, Qiao Ke was already holding a butterfly in his hand, shyly presenting it to her with his tiny foot lifted, delight lighting up his face. “Auntie, a beautiful butterfly!”

Since the day before, after Qiao Ke had shown a side different from ordinary children, Lian Yue had been somewhat worried about him. Now, seeing his bright apricot eyes sparkling with excitement and his rosy cheeks, it was clear he was genuinely happy.

Watching him like this, Lian Yue felt her heart melt. Earlier, she had been so focused on finding someone that she hadn’t responded to his eager gaze and had handed his little hand over to Yaoyao. Perhaps that was a bit selfish.

With this in mind, Lian Yue decided to accompany him for a while before continuing her search. Having made up her mind, she refocused her attention entirely on the butterfly in Qiao Ke’s hand.

The butterfly was graceful and light, like a fairy among flowers, displaying its beautiful dance amidst the blossoms. The one in Qiao Ke’s hand shimmered all over, its wings bearing two small circles. Red, yellow, green, purple, and black were evenly distributed on its wings, resembling a vividly colored flower—truly beautiful. Lian Yue also loved butterflies; many of the floral patterns on her hair accessories and clothes featured butterflies.

However, she noticed that the spot where Qiao Ke pinched the butterfly’s wings was already wearing off in color. A tender sorrow flashed in her eyes as she looked at him and asked, “Ke’er, why do you like butterflies so much?”

“Because they’re beautiful. Mother said Auntie has loved butterflies since she was little, so I like them too.” Qiao Ke replied without hesitation, tugging on Lian Yue’s sleeve and making her crouch down to compare the butterfly in his hand with the butterfly-shaped hairpin in her hair. “Ke’er wants to catch more butterflies to make hairpins for Auntie.”

His soft, sweet voice warmed Lian Yue’s heart. Although this nephew had only just begun to get close to her, there was no sense of unfamiliarity. She cherished this feeling deeply, like a gentle breeze blowing through her soul.

Looking at pure-hearted Qiao Ke, she smiled, “Silly boy, butterflies are only beautiful when they’re flying. How can they be made into hairpins? Let’s just catch butterflies and then let them go, alright?”

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Qiao Ke hesitated, glancing at the butterfly in his hand as if understanding something, then looked up seriously at Lian Yue and said, “Does Auntie mean what Master said—that liking something doesn’t necessarily mean you must own it?”

Lian Yue hadn’t expected him to recall that phrase but nodded and explained, “That’s roughly what it means. There are many beautiful things in this world, and many things we like. But just because we like them doesn’t mean we can possess them. Like these butterflies—they flutter among the flowers, and many can admire them. But if everyone caught one just because they liked them, soon there would be no butterflies left in the garden. Then we wouldn’t be able to see them anymore, right?”

Qiao Ke blinked and nodded, looking at the butterfly in his hand with reluctance. Pressing his lips together, he said, “Then I’ll let it go now.” He gently loosened his fingers, murmuring, “Butterfly, I’m sorry. I won’t catch you anymore. Please come visit often.”

The butterfly freed itself, spreading its wings gracefully, fluttering twice, then slowly flying off Qiao Ke’s finger. It circled twice in the air before soaring toward the surrounding flowers.

No one noticed the thoughtful glint in Qiao Zhi’s eyes as they spoke—a sentiment meaning to like without owning, but I can choose to stay together.

Meanwhile, the person Lian Yue was searching for watched her every move. At the top of the ornamental hill on the east side of the Imperial Garden, in the Imperial View Pavilion—a square pavilion with four pillars, a pointed green-glazed tile roof edged in yellow gold, and surrounded by white marble balustrades—stood Yu Wen Lingxi, dressed in dark robes embroidered with gold trim. His gaze was fixed on Lian Yue’s figure, and beneath his mask, the corner of his mouth twitched unnaturally, his jet-black eyes filled with a rare tenderness.

Upon arriving at the Imperial Garden, Yu Wen Lingxi had immediately chosen this pavilion atop the ornamental hill. From here, one could overlook the entire palace garden. The steward eunuch, Yong Chang, who accompanied him, was specially appointed by the emperor and skilled at reading the atmosphere.

Before Yu Wen Lingxi spoke, Yong Chang detailed the pavilion’s merits and then led him up the steps to the pavilion. Inside, the ceiling was ornately decorated with carved beams, facing south with a throne, yet Yu Wen Lingxi stood coldly by the western window and did not move again.

Yong Chang knew his identity—the bronze mask with fangs marked him as the ruthless Lord of the Rakshasa Hall, An Ming. This was why the emperor had sent him here.

From Cining Palace to the Imperial Garden, Lian Yue had been under his watchful eye. Now that she had arrived, lingering in the pavilion held no meaning.

As Yu Wen Lingxi turned to leave, the tenderness in his eyes was replaced by a cold gaze. He stepped down the stone stairs, with Yong Chang three paces behind him, respectfully silent.

Below the stone steps Yu Wen Lingxi descended, Qiao Bin was accompanying Zhou Man, Meng Chuchen, Yue Lingjun, Yu Wen Lingxi (Xiao), and Zhou Ziwen as they ascended toward the Imperial View Pavilion.

Qiao Bin, yielding the path to Zhou Man, explained to the group, “Among all the pavilions in the palace, only this one offers a view over the entire imperial city. It’s also the place where the palace holds the annual Double Ninth Festival ascension.”

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“The imperial city is quite something,” Zhou Man said in his rough voice, without softening his tone. “You can tell the royals really know how to enjoy themselves.”

Qiao Bin’s mouth twitched awkwardly, but given his status and relationship with Lian Yue, he had encountered Zhou Man enough times to know this was simply his nature and not worth arguing against.

Besides, Zhou Man wasn’t wrong. Among the eight great powers, the royal family was indeed the most extravagant.

“Hey...” Meng Chuchen, looking up, suddenly grew serious. “Isn’t that the Rakshasa Lord An Ming who went alone into hostile territory?”

Following his gaze, the others saw the bronze mask with fangs. Expressions darkened, except for Yu Wen Lingxi (Xiao), who remained indifferent, though his heart was unsettled. After their brush past in the main hall, Yue Lingjun’s face had turned grim.

They had come to the Imperial Garden following their elder brother, the dark and formidable An Ming. However, unlike the cold reputation of An Ming, they had met several acquaintances along the way, which delayed them somewhat. The reason for coming to the Imperial View Pavilion was to locate An Ming’s whereabouts.

Perhaps because Lian Yue had been kidnapped right under Yue Lingjun’s watch, he suspected from the figure clad in black that this was the same person who had taken her. The Rakshasa Hall’s official statement that the black-clad man was an important figure only deepened Yue Lingjun’s suspicion.

When he shared his analysis, the others agreed it was possible. But unlike the others, Yue Lingjun remembered what Lan Shui had told him a few days ago—that his precious little sister seemed to have developed feelings. He therefore harbored a deep reluctance about the matter.

He wanted to confront this person and make things clear before his sister met him.

Yu Wen Lingxi exchanged a glance with Yu Wen Lingxi (Xiao) upon noticing the group blocking his path. Understanding the situation, he stopped in place.