Chapter 78 Visitors from the East Arrive

As expected, Gongshen Linger and her companions returned with nothing to show for their efforts.

She stood in the shadow atop the palace wall, watching as the agile shadow guards swiftly slaughtered her swarm of snakes. In the next moment, she quietly slipped away.

“The Young Mistress has arrived,” Feiyi immediately ran up to her, with Qingshu right behind.

“Just as we anticipated, Anxue Palace is well-protected,” Gongshen Linger halted, gazing at the pitch-black sky. “How did things go with what I entrusted to you? No mishaps, I hope?”

“You can rest assured, Young Mistress. Their attention was entirely on the snakes, so sneaking in was a breeze,” Feiyi replied at once, a look of pride showing on her face.

“Good, then my snakes were not sacrificed in vain.” She nodded, leading the two into the depths of the night.

“Young Mistress, there is something I don't quite understand,” Qingshu said, following behind, a trace of worry in her voice. “If the Queen of Ji is truly that blind girl, then His Majesty will stop at nothing to have her. If that’s the case, war between the two kingdoms may be unavoidable.”

Though she didn’t fully understand the king’s temperament, he was, after all, a domineering ruler—if he set his sights on something, he would seize it for his own.

“She’s just a blind girl; the King of Ji need not risk open hostility with the Kingdom of Wu. Besides, His Majesty is shrewd and resourceful; he’ll surely find a way to have the best of both worlds. Otherwise, that blind queen will bear the infamy of being a ‘femme fatale who brings ruin upon herself and her country’ for all eternity,” Gongshen Linger replied, her tone tinged with something unusual.

She had heard that the blind queen was greatly favored, and it seemed that the person who rescued her that day was indeed the King of Ji. No, it was certain—it could only have been him. From the moment her “spirit snakes’ emergence” was thwarted, she should have realized that only Ji Wu Qing had the ability to do so.

If so, then that blind queen was truly someone he cherished.

At this thought, her breath caught.

At the state banquet.

The two monarchs were not ones for empty words; the assembly sat quietly, watching the dancers in the main hall—elegant, supple bodies moving gracefully, ribbons trailing through the air.

At last, the dance concluded. The dancers retreated, leaving only their slender silhouettes behind.

“What does the King of Wu think?” Ji Wu Qing, seated high above, shifted his gaze to Zuo Qiu Liye, asking with languid indifference.

“Thank you for Ji’s hospitality. It was excellent,” Zuo Qiu Liye replied, as if the person who had just been lost in thought was not himself.

Neither man’s mind was on the dancers; both wore an air of cool detachment.

“Very well. I wonder what surprise the Imperial Consort has prepared next to astound our guest from Wu?” Ji Wu Qing's tone was not modest in the least; turning, he looked to Imperial Consort Yu.

Sensing his gaze, Yu felt a ripple in her heart, like a tranquil lake suddenly stirred.

So this is what it feels like to receive his attention—sweet, and a little nervous.

“Your Majesty, next will be a guqin performance.”

A woman in a pale pink gown entered the center of the hall, carrying a guqin. Eyes lowered, she offered a graceful bow, then took her seat at the prepared table, placing her instrument upon it.

Her slender hands lifted, then gently plucked the strings. Delicate notes drifted like feathers, landing softly upon every listener’s heart.

She raised her head, gentle and elegant, her features as finely drawn as calligraphy, each stroke deliberate and soft, culminating in a bold final flourish—forming a character of deep color and meaning.

Her hands danced across the strings, pink sleeves fluttering like clouds, the outer layer of sheer silk shimmering with ethereal beauty.

When the piece ended, the woman rose and bowed, her voice warm and gentle: “I am unworthy, yet I dedicate this piece, ‘The Eastern Guest Arrives,’ to the King of Wu. May your journey be worthwhile.”

All eyes turned to her—some curious, some amazed, some surprised.

“‘The Eastern Guest Arrives, may your journey be worthwhile.’ The King of Ji’s harem is indeed full of surprises. Truly, King Ji is a lucky man,” Zuo Qiu Liye remarked, his phoenix eyes inscrutable as they lingered on the woman in the hall.

“Xiliang’s beauty is certainly a delight. Well done,” Ji Wu Qing nodded, his tone carrying a hint of praise, though his expression was somewhere between a smile and indifference. “Imperial Consort Yu, see to her reward.”

And so the banquet ended with the Lady of Xiliang outshining all others.

Her performance had caught the other consorts off guard—gaining both the king’s favor and praise from the King of Wu. For a time, her glory was unmatched.

“I never would have guessed. That Lady of Xiliang, so quiet and reserved, yet the moment she speaks she pleases His Majesty and even wins a reward from the Imperial Consort. Appearances truly are deceiving—even the gentle Lady of Xiliang has learned to compete for favor,” sneered Lady Jin, unable to bear anyone else in the spotlight.

“You just don’t understand. That’s called knowing how to seize the moment. After so long in the palace, how could anyone not develop ambitions? Unlike us—just wooden-headed, good for nothing but gossip,” Lady Qin remarked mockingly.

The Lady of Xiliang sat quietly beside them, their words clearly aimed at her. Yet she showed no reaction, only sat silently, her eyes instinctively seeking Zuo Qiu Liye’s figure above.

It was the same face, but different now.

Gone was the softness and innocence—he was now a sovereign, his beauty more striking than any woman’s, yet more resolute and steadfast than any man.

Had he failed to recognize her?

It seemed so; his gaze was utterly unfamiliar, as if she were merely a stranger passing by. No, in truth, he had never seen her—his glance was one of mere formality.

At this realization, unspeakable disappointment and sorrow filled her heart.

After this parting, who knew when they might meet again—perhaps this would be their last.

With the banquet concluded, Ji Wu Qing and Zuo Qiu Liye took their leave together, walking side by side.

One in black, one in red.

“That will be all for today. King of Wu, you should return to your quarters and rest well. I must go to Anxue Palace to accompany my queen—I have not seen her today,” Ji Wu Qing said, a hint of pride on his face, as if eager to reunite with his beloved.

“Who would have thought, in such a vast harem, that the queen alone would enjoy the King of Ji’s exclusive favor? Do you not feel you owe something to the other beauties?” Zuo Qiu Liye’s lips curled in a faint smile, his fox-like eyes darkening with meaning.

To take Xiaoxue from him and flaunt it so openly—did he truly think he was powerless?

“With three thousand in the harem, this king drinks from only one cup. I doubt the King of Wu could understand such a sentiment,” Ji Wu Qing replied, his expression smug, as if he had struck a nerve.

“Oh? Is the King of Wu at risk of laughing his own teeth out at such words?”

“Perhaps it’s you who’ll laugh your own teeth out.”

In short, the two maintained a façade of cordiality, but inwardly, each harbored resentment. Like two men well aware of each other’s intentions, their smiles were edged with hidden daggers.

Ji Wu Qing, in high spirits, went to Anxue Palace, while Zuo Qiu Liye, face clouded, boarded his carriage to the guest residence.

The night was bleak, the absence of the moon lending a somber, heavy air.

In the carriage, Zuo Qiu Liye’s expression gradually cooled. He realized he had nearly let Ji Wu Qing provoke him. But now was not the time for open conflict; otherwise, he risked losing everything.

Thinking this, he calmed himself.

At least he knew Xiaoxue was in the Ji palace—a far better prospect than searching blindly.

By the time he reached the guest residence, his composure had returned. Exiting the carriage, he entered to find the place immaculate, his quarters especially so—every detail attended to, even the bed curtains adorned with sachets unique to the Kingdom of Wu.

“Your Majesty, there is something I am unsure whether to say,” Yunwu announced from outside.

“Speak,” came the reply.

“Does Your Majesty recall that Lady of Xiliang in the Ji harem?” Yunwu asked.

“Lady of Xiliang?”

“The one who played ‘The Eastern Guest Arrives’—she is the Lady of Xiliang,” Yunwu explained, chastising himself for presuming his master would remember such a minor consort.

At this, Zuo Qiu Liye raised his brows, recalling only the music, not the player or her appearance.

Yunwu understood at once—the king had forgotten, or perhaps had never noticed her at all.

“Your Majesty, the Lady of Xiliang seemed familiar to me, as if she were an old acquaintance. Perhaps she could become an ally,” Yunwu suggested, for their current task was to seize the blind queen, and they would need help.

“‘The Eastern Guest Arrives, may your journey be worthwhile,’ is it?” Zuo Qiu Liye plucked a sachet from the bedpost. Its fragrance was soothing, making him smile.

So, an old acquaintance?

“Does Your Majesty think this plan will work?” Seeing his master lost in thought, Yunwu could not help but ask.

However, Zuo Qiu Liye merely glanced at him—prompting Yunwu to lower his head in apology. With a wave of the hand, Zuo Qiu Liye inquired, “Where is Gongshen Linger now?”

“Your Majesty, the Young Mistress left word that she is weary and has gone to rest. Her mission today went smoothly; we need only wait patiently,” Yunwu replied at once.

“Very good.” Zuo Qiu Liye nodded, his enchanting features growing even more striking.

Though he could not openly break with Ji Wu Qing, there was no saying what might happen in the shadows. If Ji Wu Qing was provoked, then the breaking point would not be of his own making.