Chapter 9

Zhao Yuyan did not want to compare herself with Sang Qingyun. Deep down, she possessed a certain pride, always feeling that it was petty for someone of her background to fuss over such gold and silver trinkets.

Yet, the disparities and differences were right before her eyes, and she could not help but make comparisons. In her year at the palace, had His Majesty ever bestowed upon her anything so exquisite? And it had to be just after Sang Qingyun had left.

Zhao Yuyan shoved the box back, wanting to look at it no longer. Over the past year, as a lady-in-waiting, she had fallen short of Sang Qingyun, and as an imperial concubine, there was not even a glimmer of hope. That feeling of inadequacy, of being lesser than others, left her deeply unwilling to accept her lot.

She had seen the new concubines who entered the palace, and there were many who were far beneath her. If that was the case, why would His Majesty not spare her a second glance? As someone as sharp and perceptive as he, how could he not understand the Dowager Consort’s intentions?

Recalling the common traits of the favored concubines in the harem, Zhao Yuyan wondered if she had been too restrained all along, leading His Majesty to believe she was merely sent by the Dowager Consort to gain some experience. If she truly wished to enter the inner palace as a consort, perhaps... she should be more proactive, like Lady Yan Rong and the others.

Zhao Yuyan hurried out of the servant’s quarters, first fetching the pastries favored by Prince Yi and the Emperor from the small kitchen, then brewing tea in the conservatory that paired well with the snacks, before carrying them together to the presence of the Emperor.

Inside the Qinzheng Hall, Prince Yi had only just arrived and was sitting by the window, playing a game of chess with the Emperor. Daring not to disturb them, she simply stepped forward to place the tea and snacks, then retreated quietly, standing behind the screen.

Prince Yi was three years younger than the Emperor and had already reached the age of twenty, yet he remained unmarried. Though he had no wife, his household was filled with several concubines; he was famously known throughout Chang'an as a dissipated romantic. Moreover, he had no interest in state affairs and no achievements to his name, caring only for worldly pleasures. In Zhao Yuyan’s eyes, Prince Yi was a useless fop, not even a fraction as worthy as the Emperor. If she were to marry, it should be to someone she truly admired—a man possessing both talent and status, certainly not a wastrel who knew only how to eat, drink, and play.

The shadows of the window flowers danced. The faint aroma of tea mingled with the scent of peach blossoms, filling the room with elegance. It was a rare moment of leisure for the brothers. Prince Yi placed his black stone and picked up his tea. After observing, smelling, and taking a light sip, he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Ah, the tea here does not seem as good as before, Imperial Brother."

"The leaves are fine, but the technique and charm are lacking. Like a flaw in white jade, it cannot be called superb." Prince Yi was a connoisseur of tea; the more he tasted, the more he felt something was missing, and he set his cup down. "Truly, it is tasteless to consume, yet a pity to discard."

Xie Yanhang calmly retrieved the black stone he had just lost, looking at him with a half-smile. "Since you are such a tea expert, why have I never seen you prepare it for me? You come here and find fault; it is clear you have grown accustomed to a life of indulgence and resent me for keeping you confined in the palace."

Prince Yi sheepishly rubbed his nose. "I have no such intention, little brother. Your Majesty is busy with state affairs; it is a blessing for me to play chess with you, how could I hold any resentment? It is only because I treat this as my own home that I dare speak so freely."

He played another stone absentmindedly, glancing around. "I remember the tea I had last time was excellent. Is the person who brewed it not here today? Your Majesty knows I love good tea, yet you do not treat me to the best—I fear Your Majesty does not welcome me."

Upon hearing this, Xie Yanhang finally understood his implication. He did not rush to place his next stone, but leaned back lazily, watching him with composure. "Are you talking about the person, or the tea?"

Seeing his scheme exposed, Prince Yi stopped hiding. "Miss Qingyun’s tea-brewing skills are truly exceptional, surely among the best I have tasted. Every time I visit, I look forward to it. I knew the moment I tasted this tea today that it was not her handiwork."

Xie Yanhang chuckled. "Indeed, she is not here at the moment; this tea was brewed by Zhao Yuyan."

At the mention of Zhao Yuyan, Prince Yi showed no interest and steered the conversation back to Sang Qingyun. "When will Miss Qingyun return? I wonder if Your Majesty would do me the honor of allowing her to brew a pot of fragrant tea for me to sample."

Listening from behind the screen, Zhao Yuyan frowned. Although she disliked Prince Yi, his blatant disregard for her tea and his fawning over Sang Qingyun filled her with resentment. Among the Emperor’s brothers, he was the closest to Prince Yi, meaning the Emperor often listened to his words. If the Emperor frequently heard that Sang Qingyun was good and she was inferior, he would naturally eventually disregard her. How could the Emperor hold any regard for a woman who was worse in every way than a mere palace maid?

Just as Zhao Yuyan was feeling disgruntled, she heard the Emperor say faintly from the other side of the screen, "You are like the old man in the wine shop—your interest lies elsewhere."

Prince Yi laughed. "No one knows me like you do, Imperial Brother."

"To be honest, I think Miss Qingyun is quite wonderful, especially to my taste. You have so many exquisite people serving you, surely you would not miss one Sang Qingyun? If Your Majesty would permit, how about—"

Xie Yanhang lifted his gaze to look at him, a faint smile still on his face. "How about what?"

Thinking there was a chance, Prince Yi hurried to say, "Why not bestow Sang Qingyun upon me? I will certainly treat her well."

Xie Yanhang’s smile did not change, but his eyes grew cold. "I never force anyone. Even if you have this wish, I fear she may not be willing." He lowered his eyes, picked up a white stone, and placed it, subtly changing the subject. "Your turn."

Since he was the one asking for a favor, Prince Yi was eager and quickly made his move, failing to grasp his brother’s meaning. "You are the Son of Heaven; all under heaven belongs to you. Is it not easy to bestow a mere lady-in-waiting?"

"With just one decree from you, I will naturally speak kindly to her. She will live in luxury in my mansion and I will never treat the person you bestowed upon me poorly."

Xie Yanhang said flatly, "If you want the lady-in-waiting by my side so much, why don’t I bestow Zhao Yuyan upon you as your Princess consort today? She is the niece of Consort Zhao, introduced to the palace for training; I think she is a perfect match for you."

Prince Yi had his eye on Sang Qingyun, not Zhao Yuyan. Vulgar women like Zhao Yuyan were as numerous as the stars; what point was there in having her? The remark startled Prince Yi, and he finally realized that his brother was using Zhao Yuyan to choke him off, unwilling to part with Sang Qingyun. And indeed, if he were the Emperor, he wouldn't want to give her to anyone else either. Sang Qingyun was thoughtful in every way, possessed peerless beauty, and had a heart of crystal.

Prince Yi admired her greatly, seeing her as a celestial goddess descended to earth—something no status or background could determine. But since the Emperor would not part with her, he would not mention it again. However, marrying Zhao Yuyan was out of the question. "No, no, Imperial Brother, please do not joke with me. I have no interest in her; taking her home would only lead to us staring at each other in silence, which would be a waste of the young lady’s time."

Xie Yanhang lifted his eyes coldly. "In that case, do not mention it again." He lost his interest in chess, and the white stone fell from his fingers into the bowl with a crisp *clack*. "Lest I have you driven out of the palace."

Prince Yi rubbed his nose and gave a dry laugh. "I would not dare." He quickly stood up. "Since Your Majesty is busy with state affairs, I shall not disturb you further. I will take my leave now."

Xie Yanhang did not ask him to stay, nor did he look at him. He let Prince Yi leave in a rush after bowing, his own gaze drifting toward the peach blossom tree outside the window, his eyes slightly unfocused. The hall soon fell silent; there was nothing to hear but the wind rustling through the corridors and the faint, smoldering fragrance of incense.

Over here, Zhao Yuyan finally freed herself from her disgust toward Prince Yi and quietly looked at the Emperor behind the screen. When she heard him say he would bestow her upon Prince Yi, she had been truly startled and nearly cried out. Fortunately, Prince Yi had refused, sparing her from that fate.

The fact that they disliked each other was one thing, but what bothered Zhao Yuyan most was that the Emperor refused to give Sang Qingyun to Prince Yi, yet could so easily suggest bestowing her upon someone else. It was clear that in the Emperor’s heart, she was not even as important as an ordinary lady-in-waiting.

After a year of serving in the Emperor's presence, Zhao Yuyan had had enough. She was tired of being compared to a maid-turned-lady-in-waiting despite her own noble background, tired of the Emperor’s gaze never lingering on her, and even more tired of the endless waiting and suffering. They knew her identity, but it was precisely this position that constrained and suppressed her, trapping all her potential within this role.

That was why she was only compared to someone of the same status—Sang Qingyun. But in the end, Sang Qingyun was merely a slave, only held in higher regard because she had gained a bit of the Emperor’s trust. What right did she have?

The resentment long suppressed in her heart was ignited today by the jade bracelet and Prince Yi’s disdain. Zhao Yuyan decided to change the status quo—and she would do it today.

She went to the conservatory to brew a fresh cup of tea, gathered her courage, and walked to the Emperor’s side. She bowed her head, placing the new cup before him. At this distance, her slender waist was within reach, as fragile as if it could be snapped by a touch. She slowly lifted her eyes, her almond-shaped eyes glistening as she looked at him, her voice softer and more melodious than ever. "Your Majesty, this servant has brought you fresh tea."

She boldly reached out, and as she set down the cup, she inadvertently brushed against the Emperor’s cool fingertips. "Your Majesty’s hands are a bit cold..."

However, before Zhao Yuyan could finish her sentence, Xie Yanhang coldly brushed her away, his expression displeased. "Presumptuous."

Zhao Yuyan quickly knelt and kowtowed. "This servant did not mean to, this servant only..." She felt aggrieved, biting her lip and looking up, attempting to soften his heart. "This servant only feels for Your Majesty."

From the moment Zhao Yuyan arrived at the Qinzheng Hall, Xie Yanhang knew what she was after. It was just that since the Dowager Consort had intentions, he did not need to rebuff her over a mere position. But whether she remained in his presence was entirely up to his interest, and Zhao Yuyan clearly did not interest him. If she truly wanted to enter the palace as a consort, he could have just taken her in for the sake of the Dowager Consort; one more person in the harem did not make a difference.

But today, she insisted on making herself an eyesore when he was already in a bad mood. How could one not find her annoying? He did not even bother to look at her, saying coldly, "Leave. No one is to disturb me."