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Chapter 11: Tenth Concubine
Xiao Ji nodded. “It was him.”
A faint, indescribable emotion flickered across Jiang Chuyue’s heart.
She had thought that Xiao Ji would be the first to find her.
Obediently, Jiang Chuyue nodded. “Alright, I will certainly attend the banquet tomorrow.”
Outside, night had fallen deep and still. The study grew suddenly quiet. After exchanging a few simple words, Jiang Chuyue and Xiao Ji seemed to run out of things to say.
She no longer ran over to his desk with the unrestrained joy of the past, snatching away the documents in his hands and teasing him to rest earlier.
She was no longer a child.
Ever since she had realized her own feelings, Jiang Chuyue had become more cautious with her words and actions—afraid of revealing her heart and disturbing the peaceful harmony of the Xiao household.
After a moment of silence, Jiang Chuyue broke it softly.
“It’s getting late. I’ll return to my room to rest. The spring nights are cold—brother, you should rest early as well.”
Xiao Ji said, “Alright. Be careful on your way.”
Jiang Chuyue walked away at an unhurried pace. The study was quiet again. Xiao Ji picked up the defense map of the Xuanwu Army, but his gaze drifted out the latticed window toward the departing figure and her maid.
The spring moonlight was like water. The pale-silver Shu brocade cloak draped over Jiang Chuyue’s shoulders fluttered in the breeze, its hem rippling with graceful curves.
Only when she was completely out of sight did Xiao Ji look away and return to the map.
At dawn the next day, Jiang Chuyue rose early to wash and dress.
Today, she would go to Fan Tower with Xiao Ji to personally thank the Regent, Xie Linyuan.
She was in high spirits.
To go out, to see Xiao Ji—today promised to be a happy and peaceful day. In the bright spring sunlight, Jiang Chuyue chose a light yellow spring dress, pinned two goldfinch hairpins in her hair, and applied delicate makeup, making her look lively and radiant.
Baizhu, her maid, was dazzled, praising her beauty over and over.
Close to noon, Xiao Ji sent a carriage to fetch her. The long street was congested, and the carriage moved slowly. Jiang Chuyue wished she had wings so she could fly to Fan Tower ahead of time.
When she arrived, Jiang Chuyue quickened her pace up the stairs to a private room. She pushed the door open with joy.
“Bro—”
The word “brother” froze on her lips.
The private room was elegantly decorated. Sunlight streamed through a half-open carved window, casting patterned shadows on the floor. Xiao Ji was nowhere to be seen—only the Regent, Xie Linyuan, sat alone at the head seat, drinking.
Draped in a dark cyan brocade robe, Xie Linyuan looked up lazily at the sound, his cold black eyes sweeping over her with a sharp, oppressive force.
Jiang Chuyue felt as if she had seen a ghost in broad daylight—her smile vanished instantly.
Folding her hands before her waist, she bent her knees in a proper curtsey. “Greetings, Your Highness the Regent.”
The room fell silent.
Not daring to raise her head, Jiang Chuyue fixed her gaze on the floor. She could feel his eyes on her, heavy and tangible, making a thin layer of sweat form on her back.
“Afraid of this king?” Xie Linyuan asked.
Inwardly, she thought, Who in the entire capital isn’t afraid of you, the living King of Hell?
She herself was frightened to death.
But she forced herself to remain calm, replying softly, “Your Highness once saved my life. I do not fear you.”
Her voice was clear and pure, like the meltwater of March snow flowing down a mountain—cool, crystalline, and carrying an unknowing allure.
It was… captivating.
Xie Linyuan listened, setting his cup aside. “Sit.”
Jiang Chuyue obeyed, sitting gingerly. If it weren’t for seeing Xiao Ji, she would never wish to encounter Xie Linyuan in her life.
But Xiao Ji still hadn’t arrived.
The spacious private room held only the two of them. Jiang Chuyue kept her eyes fixed on a white jade wine cup, not daring to speak.
Even without a word from him, his silent pressure was suffocating.
Footsteps sounded outside.
“General Xiao?” Xie Linyuan asked.
Jiang Chuyue tilted her head slightly, listening, then shook her head. “Not his footsteps.”
Xie Linyuan’s hand paused on his wine cup—she could even recognize Xiao Ji’s steps?
The door opened. It was one of Xie Linyuan’s men, delivering a sealed document before leaving quickly.
After a while, footsteps came again. Jiang Chuyue’s eyes brightened as she looked toward the door.
Xie Linyuan watched her every expression from the side, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously.
The door opened—this time it was indeed Xiao Ji.
Her face lit up. “Brother.”
Xiao Ji nodded. “An urgent matter came up at the Ministry of War.”
He took a seat.
The maids of Fan Tower served exquisite dishes, the air filling with the fragrance of food and wine.
Xiao Ji and Xie Linyuan seemed to have a cordial private rapport. Raising his cup, Xiao Ji said, “Brother Linyuan, thank you for sending troops to help me find my sister. She’s not good with alcohol—I’ll drink on her behalf.”
“It was nothing,” Xie Linyuan replied casually, clinking cups with him.
Jiang Chuyue sat quietly to one side, polite and composed. But seeing Xiao Ji down three cups in quick succession, she frowned slightly.
“Too much wine harms the stomach,” she murmured. “If Grandmother knew, she would scold you.”
Xiao Ji smiled. “Alright, I’ll eat.”
From the corner of his eye, Xie Linyuan caught every detail. From the moment Xiao Ji had entered, Jiang Chuyue’s attention had been fixed on him alone.
On the surface, she was the picture of a refined capital lady—flawless in manner and decorum. But when it came to Xiao Ji, her emotions rippled.
Xie Linyuan drained another cup of wine.
As the meal neared its end, Xiao Ji’s guard entered. “General, Instructor Zhang is waiting downstairs to consult you on something.”
Xiao Ji set down his cup. “Brother Linyuan, I’ll be right back.”
“Go ahead,” Xie Linyuan said.
With Xiao Ji gone, only Jiang Chuyue and Xie Linyuan remained. She picked up a crisp peach blossom pastry, pretending to eat.
Her seat by the window gave her a clear view of the lively street below—and of Xiao Ji speaking to a man at the entrance of Fan Tower.
Biting her pastry, Jiang Chuyue secretly watched his tall, straight figure, her heart swelling with quiet contentment.
Even seeing him from afar felt enough.
But her joy was short-lived.
“Help! My lord, help!”
A young woman in a plain green dress stumbled frantically toward the entrance, several thugs chasing her.
Spotting Xiao Ji’s imposing bearing, she collapsed to her knees before him. “My lord, I beg you to save me!”
Xiao Ji, upright and dutiful, naturally stepped forward.
He helped her up.
The girl lifted her head, revealing a delicate, lovely face—bare of powder, her wide, innocent almond eyes stirring instant pity.
For a brief moment, Xiao Ji was visibly taken aback.
He immediately ordered his men to protect her and seize the pursuing thugs to be handed over to the authorities.
At the window above, Jiang Chuyue slowly set down her peach blossom pastry. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, chilling her to the bone.
She knew—soon, the Xiao household would welcome the Tenth Concubine.
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