Chapter 19: Not Daring to Harbor Thoughts of Desecration

Chapter 19: Not Daring to Harbor Profane Thoughts

Ye Wanwan walked for a long distance before her pace finally slowed. She looked ahead, where the edges of the towering palace walls seemed to slice the sky and earth apart. This place was magnificent and gilded, yet so stifling that it made one gasp for breath. She had longed to wander off into the vastness of the world, but her enemies were all here. Since she could not even forgive herself, how could she ever let them go? Born here, buried here—let them all rot together.

Lost in her thoughts, she accidentally stepped on her own hem. She stumbled and instinctively reached out to steady herself, her hand landing firmly on an arm. Once she regained her balance, she looked at the person beside her; it was Yan Chen. Yan Chen looked up at Ye Wanwan, said nothing, and once he saw she was stable, he retreated back a step. Ye Wanwan arched a brow. He was clever enough, she supposed, though he remained thoroughly annoying.

She was dressed in a begonia-red peony court gown, adorned with gold branches, jade hairpins, and tinkling pendants—a display of extravagant nobility. The gown was sumptuous and heavy, making it impossible to walk with haste, but it possessed one singular virtue: it was beautiful. It was a dazzling, striking beauty. Because Ye Wanwan possessed such exquisite features, the heavy garment did not weigh her down at all; instead, she looked like a jewel set in gold and jade, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Nanny Lin had strongly disapproved. Her mistress was already standing at the center of a storm and should have been tempering her sharpness. By outshining even the Empress with such opulent grace, she was merely drawing all the hatred of the inner palace upon herself. The brightest and most brilliant flower in the cluster is always the first to be plucked.

Ye Wanwan was well aware that being so flashy was unwise. Yet, even if she were modest, those people would not spare her. Why should she feign misery just to be mocked for nothing? Having worn thin, simple clothes for days, she felt unaccustomed to this heavy regalia.

As she carefully approached the doorway, she leaned against the frame to step out, and an arm was promptly offered to her. How sensible of him.

Yan Chen did not look up. Within his field of vision lay the magnificent hem of her skirt, which he carefully avoided stepping on. Resting upon his arm was her hand—slender, plump, and translucent, as if carved from jade. Her nails were stained with a deep, alluring hue, and a delicate jade ring circled her thumb, making her hand appear even more refined. It was, at a glance, the hand of a noblewoman born of golden branches and jade leaves. Because the gown made walking difficult, she pressed down on his arm with slight force. Yan Chen lowered his gaze, staring at the path ahead. He dared not look at her, much less harbor any profane thoughts.

The celebration was held at the Yaohua Palace. As the distance was significant, they traveled by palanquin. Ye Wanwan arrived neither early nor late, having timed her arrival precisely. Her appearance was naturally stunning. Although they were all imperial concubines, few possessed as many fine gowns and jewels as Ye Wanwan; there was simply no comparison.

However, being unable to compete in attire did not stop them from mocking her. This banquet was held specifically for the Empress; that Ye Wanwan, who could not bear children, would dare show her face here was surely an invitation for ridicule. Yet, even with such thoughts, they had to rise and offer their greetings: "Greetings, Noble Consort."

Ye Wanwan gave a slight nod in response and walked straight to her seat, sitting down with a graceful air. Her stern face showed no intention of engaging in polite small talk. With so many concubines in the palace, none held a rank higher than Ye Wanwan except for the Empress. Since she chose to ignore them, no one dared to question her; at most, they could only mutter to one another in hushed tones. Soon, Consort Li arrived, and for once, Ye Wanwan offered a pleasant expression. "Sister Li."

Consort Li was also dressed in full regalia—ink-green embroidered with red plums—a heavy and dignified look that did not appear gaudy, perfectly befitting her status.

"Noble Consort," Consort Li replied with a smile. Just as she was about to speak, the Empress Dowager arrived, and she quickly hurried to her own seat to wait.

On the dais, there were two tables. The Empress Dowager occupied one, while the Emperor and the Empress shared the other. No sooner had the Empress Dowager taken her seat than Emperor Yang arrived with the cold Empress at his side. The Emperor wore a gentle smile, one hand supporting the Empress’s waist. Seeing this protective gesture, the women present forgot all about mocking the Noble Consort, left only with envy and heartache. As fellow concubines of Emperor Yang, when had they ever received such tender care?

The assembly rose to pay their respects: "Greetings to Your Majesty, greetings to the Empress. Congratulations, Your Majesty."

Zhao Yi smiled and raised a hand. "Rise, and be seated! It is rare for us to have a small gathering in the palace today, and it is only right that you all share in the Empress’s joy."

As he spoke, he glanced at Ye Wanwan. The look was fleeting, yet it seemed to carry a hidden meaning.

The banquet began with food, plays, and music, no different from any other. Throughout the meal, many stepped forward to toast the imperial couple, their mouths filled with flattering words of congratulation. Whether those words were sickening or not was a secret they kept to themselves.