Chapter 13: The Princess Has Lost Her Virginity.
Zhao Jue had not initially realized what the eunuchs meant by the scent they mentioned. Hearing Zhao Rongzhang speak this way, he thought she was deliberately provoking him, believing that even if the whole world knew she was hiding a criminal, no one could catch him. However, the eunuchs stammered, and the female official named Ming Luo looked at her with a hint of surprise. Sensing something amiss, Zhao Jue ordered someone to lift the little eunuch’s head and make him speak clearly.
The little eunuch dared not speak loudly, nor did he dare approach the emperor’s person. The Chang Gong eunuch stepped forward, leaning in to hear his words. The old eunuch glanced subtly at the princess and quietly whispered the message to Zhao Jue.
Zhao Jue was both shocked and furious. He had not expected her to lose her virginity so quickly. Compared to her mother, although she was willful and domineering, she was not reckless. Over the years, she had rarely truly overstepped boundaries—otherwise, indeed, his father would have had no reason to dote on her so much. He had chosen to force her into submission by dismantling the Herb Gathering Department, believing that no matter what, she would not truly defy propriety and act outrageously. Once the medicine was fully consumed and the toxicity took effect, she would surely beg to marry a man. Wasn’t this precisely why she had complied with the marriage alliance decree?
Enraged, he laughed coldly. Losing her virginity before marriage—truly a licentious and inherently base woman! Such a woman, once sent to the Turks’ royal tent, deserved an even more humiliating death.
The princess losing her virginity and defiling the palace was, after all, a scandal that tarnished the royal family’s dignity and could not be made public. Moreover, with the marriage alliance policy between the two nations already in place, even though the upright old ministers had wailed until their guts nearly twisted, he had not yielded an inch. If this were to ruin everything now, wouldn’t it be a slap to his own face? Where would the emperor’s majesty be then?
Zhao Jue narrowed his eyes and sneered, glancing at the female officials and palace maids around Zhao Rongzhang. “The princess is young and prone to missteps—that can still be excused. But the palace attendants’ negligence is a crime punishable by death. Imperial sister, think thrice before speaking any words. You lack shame and fear neither hunting dogs nor gossip, but rumors, once spread, can devour people.”
Zhao Jue usually acted like a mad dog, but in front of her, he assumed the posture of an elder brother. Zhao Rongzhang could not be bothered to negotiate with him, knowing that all his rambling was merely him finding a way to save face. He dared not let the world know that the princess Great Zhou was about to send for the marriage alliance had already lost her virginity.
Zhao Jue had come tonight intending to mock Zhao Rongzhang and humble her pride. The situation had developed entirely beyond his expectations, and in the end, he left filled with rage.
When the Grand Empress Dowager heard Rui’an’s report, she set down her prayer beads and sighed softly.
None of them were easy to deal with. The court was plagued by internal and external troubles: the emperor lacked judgment, the princess disregarded rules, ministers fought fiercely, and the people were filled with grievances. Burning down Jinshen Hall was not enough; now the Princess’s Mansion was set ablaze. What would be burned next? The flames of war across all of Great Zhou? She could no longer stand by and watch indifferently.
The eunuchs and attendants escorted Zhao Jue away, leaving Zhao Rongzhang with a quiet and empty Lingxiao Hall.
Ming Luo sheathed her sword and ordered the palace servants to sweep and clean where needed and tidy the storerooms as required. Hesitantly, she glanced toward the inner chamber but heard the princess say wearily, “Prepare water for me, and plenty of it.”
Ming Luo felt the Princess had acted too rashly today; this was not the Princess’s Mansion. If their capricious new emperor no longer held back due to the marriage alliance and brought in the hounds, fully exposing her secret affair, he would have reason to arrest everyone around her. Losing even one person was equivalent to losing an arm that could reach beyond the high walls. If she lost too many, her ideals and ambitions would forever remain as fleeting as reflections in water, never to be realized.
Had she become so infatuated with beauty that she no longer felt any sense of crisis? Ming Luo grasped the Princess’s arm, standing solemnly before her while avoiding the lowered gazes of the palace attendants, and whispered, “Princess, we cannot afford to gamble.”
Zhao Rongzhang fell silent, hearing the reproach in Ming Luo’s words. In her view, everyone was gambling at all times. If one dared to gamble, one had to be prepared to lose—and she was prepared. Those who chose to follow her must also be prepared to lose. However, she now realized she had indeed been too domineering. If she lost, at least her name would be recorded in the annals of history, but those who followed her would lose everything. She had never considered it from this perspective before.
Her life had always been one of being pampered and placed at the center of attention. Deep down, she cared little for anyone but herself; her only concerns were her own desires and whims.
Zhao Rongzhang looked at Ming Luo’s rough hand and explained, “I understand. I am not gambling. I know Zhao Jue well. If he acts arrogantly, you must respond with twelvefold audacity—it’s a tactic of advancing to retreat. He wouldn’t dare. He doesn’t know my true capabilities and wouldn’t dare push me to the brink.”
“But the Princess has still revealed a trump card. He will soon realize that your agreement to the marriage alliance has ulterior motives.”
“Sooner or later. He is foolish, but there are many clever people around him. Sooner or later, someone will point this out to him.”
This time, it was Ming Luo’s turn to fall silent. She held onto the Princess’s arm for a long time without letting go.
Her proud and willful Princess placed a hand over hers and said, “I went too far today. I’ve worried you.”
Ming Luo looked up in surprise.
Zhao Rongzhang gently removed her hand and walked inside. “Alright, go prepare the water.”
As she entered the dimly lit inner chamber, Zhao Rongzhang spotted the cat with its round eyes. It was crouched in a corner of the curtain, almost blending into the surroundings. Hearing her footsteps, it lifted its gaze.
Zhao Rongzhang’s heart stirred. She walked over and parted the curtain. The cat’s eyes followed the movement of the fabric, tilting its head as her hand descended to rest on its head.
The cat blinked slowly as the Princess stroked its head. She cupped the back of its head, pressing its face against her abdomen. The Princess’s abdomen was soft and warm, and Guan Xuan, quietly gazing at the shadows and phantoms before him, no longer felt cold.
He was her possession. Whether she wanted him to live or die was her prerogative. Using him as medicine or a toy was of no consequence—or perhaps it could be. He could die; he did not have to endure this suffering.
Two days of peace passed.
At court, a minister proposed that the Grand Empress Dowager preside over state affairs from behind a screen, clearly reflecting the Grand Empress Dowager’s own intentions. Various factions argued endlessly over the matter. Zhao Jue visited Renshou Palace several times, each visit ending in discord with the Grand Empress Dowager.
Overall, the majority supported the Grand Empress Dowager. After all, since the late emperor fell seriously ill, the court and the country had been in a state of unrest. After the new emperor ascended the throne, things rapidly descended into chaos and disorder. The Grand Empress Dowager’s maternal clan was powerful, and she herself had always been generous and benevolent. When the late emperor was young, she had experience in ruling from behind the curtain and was quite adept at handling state affairs. Her only flaw was her advanced age.
None of this concerned Zhao Rongzhang anymore. As a princess awaiting marriage, she would visit the old lady at Renshou Palace to pay her respects when she was in the mood. Otherwise, she would stay in Lingxiao Hall, reading books and drinking tea. Gradually, her mind withdrew from the intricate power struggles and turned elsewhere.
Among the dowry prepared for her by the imperial household, a set of Fire-Avoidance Illustrations was hidden at the very bottom. Zhao Rongzhang had Ming Luo retrieve it and spread it out for her to study. After looking at it, Zhao Rongzhang found it mediocre. She tossed aside the magnifying glass and complained, “It’s drawn so ugly.”
Ming Luo laughed beside her. Zhao Rongzhang held back for a moment but still didn’t say another word to her. Ming Luo had made it clear she didn’t want to hear about those things.
According to Ming Luo, she should speak to the mute about it. But she found it awkward and strange, so these past two days, she hadn’t even done that with the mute. After the mute’s cold, fishy fluid flowed into her that day, it suppressed most of her heat toxin, so stopping for a couple of days didn’t matter.
Zhao Rongzhang still couldn’t figure out why the mute had cried out in pain. She believed men were inherently lustful by nature. In all the romance novels and erotic paintings she had seen, they were easily aroused and could overflow with little effort. Although the little mute wasn’t easily exhausted, he could become aroused just from her gaze—after all, she was his master. He was truly wanton. For men like them, born with such lustful bodies, pleasure should always come first. How could he cry out in pain?
Lately, she had indeed been acting more aggressively, not as gentle and patient as she was at the beginning. Back then, the heat toxin had just begun to surface, and she was inexperienced and anxious. For her own sake, she had to be gentle. She also didn’t know how to exert herself or torment him. Later, either the heat toxin flared up, or she was in a terrible mood, and she didn’t have the patience to care about him—she only wanted to vent. After venting a few times, his condition became off, not nearly as enjoyable as it was at the start. Had her venting angered him?
She was actually trying to guess the mute’s thoughts. What thoughts could he possibly have? Should he even have thoughts? But recalling that sudden laugh of his, she felt deeply uncomfortable.
He looked exceptionally beautiful when he laughed, with fragmented candlelight reflected in his eyes, giving them a unique brilliance. She had once thought those eyes were like beautiful stones, but in that moment, she realized they were pearls covered in dust. That laugh definitely carried a hint of mockery.
Zhao Rongzhang’s expression turned cold. Now she had to guess his thoughts? How absurd.
“If you don’t like it, just put it away. Why get angry looking at it?” Ming Luo chuckled as she gathered the illustrations and pushed the chilled lychee paste water toward her. “You have quite the temper.”
Zhao Rongzhang picked up the paste water and drank it, downing half in one go before stopping to ask, “Is there more?”
“Of course, Princess. Just say the word, and there will be as much as you want. The Grand Empress Dowager is now managing both the court and the inner palace.”
As much as she wanted—that was an exaggeration. This was made from fresh lychees tributed all the way from southern Fujian, boiled on the spot. The aloeswood water used in it was so fragrant it could penetrate the spleen, with half an ounce worth ten gold pieces. Even the lychees tributed and distributed to the various palaces had to be counted by the piece, let alone this paste water.
Zhao Rongzhang finished drinking and set the bowl down. “Bring two more bowls.”
When the sweetened water was served, Zhao Rongzhang pointed to one bowl and instructed Ming Luo, “You drink it.”
Ming Luo wanted to decline, but Zhao Rongzhang smiled. “Didn’t you say there’s as much as we want? What’s there to be stingy about?”
After watching Ming Luo finish drinking, Zhao Rongzhang kept the remaining bowl and sent her out.
“Guan Xuan.”
Guan Xuan emerged from the corner.
The afternoon sun was blazing, and even with the windows closed, the light inside the hall felt scorching. The young man was wrapped in black clothes, appearing slimmer than when he was stark naked. His shoulders were broad, his legs long, with his wrist line extending past his crotch—a figure that was extremely pleasing to the eye. Under the light, the lines of his brows and eyes became even more distinct, exceptionally handsome.
Zhao Rongzhang motioned for him to walk over, observing his posture as he moved. His shoulders remained still while his legs moved, his waist and hips swaying with the motion—like a crane, yet evoking a sensual, ambiguous association. Perhaps it was because she often engaged with him that her thoughts could no longer remain pure.
Zhao Rongzhang watched for a while before instructing him to drink the lychee water.
In the past, when she rewarded him with food, she would let him take it away to consume on his own, having neither the time nor interest to wait for him to finish. On more than one occasion during palace banquets, when she grew tired of eating, she would call him over to take the meat away. Among so many people, even Ming Luo, who stood guard beside her, never noticed—in the blink of an eye, the table would be cleared. But that wouldn’t happen now. Too many people wanted them dead, and there was no need to take such risks.
The cat half-lifted his mask and drank it sip by sip.
What a strange person. He showed no expression when drinking ordinary honey water, nor when drinking this precious sweetened water. Did he have no sense of taste?
Her mood soured again. Before he had even finished drinking, she said sternly, “Kneel.”
The cat paused mid-action, clearly confused, but his body obeyed obediently as he knelt, still holding the bowl. From this angle, she felt much more at ease. Zhao Rongzhang then told him to continue.
The cat resumed drinking.
When he finished, he placed the bowl back. Just as his hand was about to pull down the mask, the Princess said, “Take it off.”
Guan Xuan removed his mask, his Adam’s apple moving slightly, already prepared to serve her with his lips. But before he could raise his eyelashes, he saw the Princess’s shadow gradually looming over him.
The Princess leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. Guan Xuan raised his eyes to meet her gaze. Her dark eyes were bright, her expression carrying the innocence of one in a position of power.
She asked first, “Is it sweet?”
Guan Xuan nodded.
“What do I taste like?”
Guan Xuan’s ears flushed instantly, and he blinked. The Princess smiled. “Sweet?”
Guan Xuan’s eyelashes trembled, and he nodded along with his head.
Zhao Rongzhang found chatting with the cat quite amusing—even asking a question made him shy, just like during their intimate moments. She asked the question she most wanted to know: “What were you crying about? What hurt? Did I play too roughly and hurt you?”
The cat seemed not to have expected her to ask this. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, not lifting.