Chapter 13: The Mundane Fires of the Mortal World

Chapter 13: The Mundane Fireworks of the Mortal World

A peony in full bloom was plucked by a slender, jade-like hand, squeezed hard until its juice flowed over the fingers.

The crushed petals were carelessly tossed aside, and Qing Sha hurriedly offered a handkerchief.

Ye Wanwan leisurely wiped the juice from her fingers and sniffed—it smelled surprisingly fragrant.

“The hour grows late. Prepare water for my bath,” she commanded.

Qing Sha glanced back; everyone had clearly witnessed that scene just now. These people were truly bullying her, though it was uncertain whether the Empress Dowager would punish them.

Bathing was a daily necessity for Ye Wanwan; not even a calamity could interrupt this routine.

After cleansing until she was fragrant and fair-skinned, she donned a milky white silk nightgown and lazily leaned against the edge of the couch, letting Qing Sha and Hong Chang gently dry her hair.

In the sweltering summer heat, though wrapped tightly in thin garments, her exquisite figure was still unmistakable.

Though Ye Wanwan was beautiful, her figure was neither voluptuous nor gaunt—just perfectly proportioned, neither too much nor too little.

Especially her slender waist, no wider than a grasp, with supple curves as if a single palm could encircle it.

Many might share a similar figure, but her visage was uniquely her own.

Her brows and eyes were finely crafted, with a glimmer in her gaze that shone even amidst profound coldness, as if beckoning irresistibly.

Ye Wanwan’s beauty was not cold; it was dazzling to the extreme—not a celestial fairy fallen to earth, but the most splendid firework in this mundane world.

She was a sight to be admired from afar, but when one tried to approach, she was as elusive as those fleeting fireworks—grasped by none.

Aunt Lin had watched Ye Wanwan grow from a delicate, carved jade-like girl into the breathtaking woman she was now.

Even after seeing her daily, one could still be unexpectedly stunned by her beauty.

Yet this beauty brought Aunt Lin worry. Since ancient times, beautiful women were often fated for misfortune. Among those who captivated kingdoms and hearts, who had an ending of peace?

Perhaps that bowl of childless soup was merely the beginning. Alas.

After her ablutions, Ye Wanwan slowly ate her evening meal. Midway through, Wang Wei, the chief eunuch of the Empress Dowager, arrived with several attendants carrying trays, his eyes narrowed in a smile.

“I bring greetings to Noble Consort.”

Ye Wanwan, sipping her soup, merely glanced at him without a word.

Wang Wei understood her mood and didn’t expect a warm reception.

He presented the offerings: “Noble Consort, these are this year’s freshly supplied tea leaves and preserved fruits. Knowing your fondness for peach meat, the Empress Dowager left none for herself and sent all to you.”

“There is also this Phoenix Fire fabric. The Empress Dowager said you did not favor such bright colors before, so none was given. But recently, she thought you looked radiant and beautiful, so this color suits you perfectly and has been brought for you.”

Not only that, the box contained gold hairpins and newly made rouge and powders.

The Empress Dowager often bestowed gifts on Ye Wanwan, but now was no festival, and such lavish presents were uncommon.

It seemed the Emperor’s goodwill pleased the Empress Dowager greatly.

“Leave them here,” Ye Wanwan said indifferently.

Seeing her so unmoved, not even rising to thank or send off her attendants, was rare—this was the lady who dared slap even the Emperor’s face. No one wanted to provoke her.

Wang Wei and Ye Wanwan were familiar; he always stayed near the Empress Dowager, and she often visited her, naturally crossing paths.

Previously, Ye Wanwan had politely called him “Eunuch Wang,” out of respect for the Empress Dowager’s trusted aide, but now she had no mind for such formalities.

Hong Chang’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the pile of gifts. Though not inexperienced, these were never hers to claim.

Moreover, this time the Empress Dowager’s gifts exceeded all prior offerings, impossible not to astonish her.

“The Empress Dowager truly dotes on my lady,” she said.

Ye Wanwan twisted her lips in a bitter smile.

Aunt Lin knew well what these gifts had cost and wore a grim expression.

“I’ll have these taken away for storage,” she said, beckoning to the guards at the door.

“Move them carefully to the storeroom.”

As the items were carried off, Aunt Lin glanced at the Phoenix Fire fabric, its blazing red dazzling to the eye.

“The Empress Dowager was right—this color suits you perfectly. I’ll send it to the Wardrobe Bureau and have the embroiderers make you several autumn gowns. They will be most beautiful. What do you think?”

Ye Wanwan cast a brief glance. “As you say, Aunt Lin.”

A gift like this in the Guan Ju Palace was no grand spectacle, but ordinary as it seemed, it stirred envy in others.

Those precious items were not even glanced at by others, yet all were sent to Guan Ju Palace.

The same people who once mocked Ye Wanwan’s frail body now felt suffocated with jealousy.

Comparisons breed frustration; all were consorts of the Emperor, yet the treatment differed so vastly, simply because Ye Wanwan was favored by the Empress Dowager. It was so unfair.

Fairness? When had the imperial palace ever been a place for fairness?

Phoenix Fire is a type of cloud brocade, bright red with gold patterns.

I’m not sure if I have it exactly right, but it’s roughly this kind of fabric.

(#^.^#)

(End of chapter)