Chapter 66: She’s Not a Fool
The garden was lush with trees, flowers, and plants, and being close to water, it inevitably attracted mosquitoes and insects. However, the palace servants were clever—they lit incense outside the hall and beneath the palace lanterns, ensuring that even when the hall was brightly lit at night, no pests would intrude.
The palace lanterns were already lit, though under the lingering glow of the sunset, their faint light seemed insignificant.
The figure approaching slowly was tall and upright. He wore black everyday attire, with a golden hairpin adorning his crown. The golden light of dusk spilled over him, casting a radiant glow upon his firm and handsome face—his nose was straight, his eye sockets deep, and his calm, unreadable eyes slowly lifted, his gaze settling on Lan Wu inside the hall.
Lan Wu reacted a moment later but quickly rose with the others to bow in greeting.
Unlike the others, who followed proper etiquette, she secretly tilted her head upward while bowing, as if trying to catch a glimpse of Chu Mingheng.
When Chu Mingheng entered the hall and uttered the words “rise,” everyone straightened up.
But Chu Mingheng stopped beside Lan Wu, reaching out without hesitation to take her hand, which hung at her side. He guided her away from her seat and spoke softly in front of everyone, “Do you like it?”
His fingers brushed against the thumb ring on Lan Wu’s thumb, the gentle friction grazing her fingers and sending a tingling sensation through her.
Lan Wu nodded in surprise, looking up at him. Her bright eyes shimmered with the golden light of dusk, making her irises appear lighter.
She whispered, “This concubine likes it very much.”
Chu Mingheng studied her face, noting the position of the evening light streaming in. “Your face is flushed from the sun. Come sit with me above.”
With that, he led Lan Wu toward the main seat at the front. The surrounding imperial concubines instinctively lowered their heads and took half a step back, none daring to speak.
It was… somewhat expected. After all, today was Zhen Shuyi’s birthday. Since Your Majesty had already given her the thumb ring, treating her with extra favor wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
Even so, the envy in everyone’s eyes was unmistakable.
Who wouldn’t want to sit beside the emperor? By convention, only the Empress had that privilege. Yet now, Your Majesty was allowing Zhen Shuyi to sit there—what extraordinary favor it was.
The evening banquet hadn’t officially begun, and Chu Mingheng didn’t wish to restrain anyone. He didn’t stop the conversations below.
But the discussions inevitably circled back to the emperor above. The entire realm was his, and with his youth, power, and prestige, who wouldn’t desire even a fraction of his affection?
Consort Rou watched Lan Wu, who remained composed beside the emperor, and found it amusing.
For someone of Lan Wu’s background, receiving such favor from Your Majesty was already the pinnacle of fortune. But the higher one was lifted, the harder the fall.
Today’s banquet had been arranged by Your Majesty’s order through the Inner Court Administration and held in Kongshan Garden. No one was foolish enough to cause trouble.
Soon, the sky darkened, and the evening banquet officially began.
Chu Mingheng noticed that Lan Wu was unusually quiet today.
Taking advantage of the servants serving the dishes, he ordered wine to be poured into Lan Wu’s cup.
“This is plum wine. Drink a little—it won’t make you drunk.” Though if she did get drunk, there was nothing to be done about it.
Lan Wu acknowledged with a soft “yes” and obediently drank.
Suddenly, a voice rose from below—not loud, but it mentioned Rong Shu Yi.
“Why is Rong Shu Yi drinking so quickly? Be careful not to get drunk.”
Lan Wu held her wine cup, her gaze drifting downward to see Rong Shuyi gently waving her hand from her seat, as if saying she was fine.
She did seem to have drunk too hastily, choking a little, but quickly suppressed the urge to cough, quietly leaving her seat to step outside for some fresh air.
Lan Wu’s eyes followed Rong Shuyi’s departure until the back of her hand was lightly pressed, drawing her attention back. Turning her head, she saw Chu Mingheng looking at her.
“Planning mischief again.”
Chu Mingheng’s gaze held no reassurance, only suspicion toward Lan Wu’s seemingly quiet and obedient appearance, which in truth concealed her usual sneaky, troublemaking nature.
Lan Wu’s reaction did not disappoint. She blinked immediately, flatly denying it. Her lips parted and closed as she spoke with self-assured words, yet each one inevitably betrayed a faint hint of guilt.
As Chu Mingheng’s gaze grew increasingly sharp and penetrating, she secretly reached out to grasp his hand, whispering coquettishly to signal her innocence: “Your Majesty has arranged a birthday banquet for this concubine. How could this concubine possibly think of causing trouble when she’s overjoyed?”
Hah, she wasn’t foolish. Even if she were planning mischief, why would she tell Chu Mingheng directly?
She could guarantee that no one would suspect her involvement in this “grand gift.”
Chu Mingheng would certainly not know either.
The more Lan Wu thought about it, the more excited she became. Her eyes crinkled into a smile as she cradled Chu Mingheng’s hand, intending to warm it, only to find it already quite hot.
Surprised, she touched his palm again—indeed, it was warm.
Chu Mingheng endured it, clasping her hand in return and giving her a stern look. His voice was low, carrying a hidden warning: “Stop fooling around. Behave properly.”
Lan Wu let out an “oh,” withdrawing her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the wine in his cup differed slightly from her own.
Just as she grew curious and leaned in for a closer look, the music around them shifted, and her attention was instantly drawn downward.
Watching the palace maids dancing below, Lan Wu suddenly remembered it had been a long time since she last danced.
In the past, she danced only because she was in the Music Bureau, where failing to practice diligently would earn her scoldings from the matrons. Later, driven by a desire to charm her way upward, she danced with even greater dedication.
In her previous life, right up until her death, she had wondered what kind of dance she would perform for Chu Mingheng upon his return to the palace, hoping to beg him to raise her rank.
But that moment never came.
She had thought Chu Mingheng enjoyed watching her dance, yet after all this time, he had never asked about it.
Could it be that he didn’t like it?
A faint gloom settled around Lan Wu. She sipped the plum wine in her cup, feeling unsettled—if he didn’t like watching her dance, why didn’t he just tell her? Hadn’t he watched her dance every time until the end? If he didn’t enjoy it, why waste his time?
She shot a resentful, covert glance at Chu Mingheng, intending it to be subtle, but as soon as she turned her head, she found him already looking at her.
Chu Mingheng held his wine cup in his left hand, while his right rested lightly on Lan Wu’s lower back. His posture was relaxed and natural as he lowered his gaze, taking in her clearly displeased expression.
Observing the shifts in her expression—from anger to surprise, then to guilt, and finally to feigned nonchalance—Chu Mingheng simply refilled Lan Wu’s cup and chuckled softly toward her: “A’Wu, who have you mistaken me for again this time?”
If not for the sight of his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop, Lan Wu might have thought he hadn’t noticed her changing emotions at all.
That seemingly casual gesture subtly betrayed a hint of irritation, yet a glance at Chu Mingheng’s face revealed he still wore that same calm and composed expression, as if everything in the world remained within his control.