Chapter 3: His Highness, Prince Xuan

The Next Day.

Xue Qingyin stayed in bed, pretending to be ill, determined to avoid leaving her quarters.

He Songning arrived upon hearing the news.

“Sick again?” he asked, his tone heavy.

Xue Qingyin burrowed under the blanket, resembling a cocoon.

She replied dully, “Uh-huh.”

“It seems the physicians in the estate are useless,” He Songning remarked unhappily. “We should summon an imperial physician instead.”

A maid sighed, “How can we invite an imperial physician unless Master himself pleads to His Majesty? But Master might accuse Miss of being overly delicate.”

He Songning replied calmly, “The King of Wei is greatly favored by His Majesty, and imperial physicians are available in his residence. Since I have some acquaintance with him, I wouldn’t mind bringing Qingyin to Prince Wei’s residence for treatment.”

Xue Qingyin: “…”

So, meeting this The King of Wei is non-negotiable, huh?

“You even have ties with Prince Wei?” the maid exclaimed excitedly. “Young Master, you are incredible. Let’s hurry, then…”

Xue Qingyin emerged from under the blanket, her soft hair in a messy tumble. Yet, her beauty made even her disheveled state appear endearing.

“There are too many rules at the Prince’s residence. I’d rather not go.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“If you’re so acquainted with Prince Wei, why not have the imperial physician come here instead?”

He Songning paused.

How bold of her to suggest that.

Thinking herself so important, is she?

He Songning wasn’t angered. He simply said, “The King of Wei is easy to talk to. Why don’t you ask him personally? He might agree.”

Might as well just say he’s a shameless flirt.

Xue Qingyin secretly rolled her eyes but outwardly put on an innocent expression. “Alright, I’ll listen to Big Brother.”

“Can you get out of bed?”

Xue Qingyin shook her head. “I want Big Brother to carry me.”

He Songning looked at her, chuckled, and said, “You’re grown now. How improper.”

Instead, he ordered a soft sedan chair to carry her from the inner courtyard.

Truly the original male protagonist—never suffering a loss.

Xue Qingyin clicked her tongue. Well, the sedan chair worked too.

Eventually, He Songning took Xue Qingyin to a poetry gathering.

“You always stay cooped up at home. Even if you’re not sick, you’ll get sick from boredom. Why not go out, mingle, and make friends with the ladies?” He Songning said.

Xue Qingyin remained silent.

She didn’t believe he was unaware.

The original Xue Qingyin had a terrible reputation in the capital. She loved flaunting gold and jewels, always ostentatious wherever she went. Other young ladies grew tired of being overshadowed by her and thoroughly disliked her.

If the original were intelligent or socially adept, it might have been bearable. But she lacked any poetic or artistic talents and couldn’t even hold a decent conversation.

In short—no one wanted to befriend her.

She’d cried over it several times at home.

But for Xue Qingyin, it was perfect!

No socializing, no pressures, no 9-to-9 grind. She could enjoy life, eat, play, and rest on her own terms without dealing with anyone’s nonsense. Bliss!

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you upset?” He Songning asked again. “I know you disdain those noble ladies…”

Hey now, I never said that.

“Today, I’ll introduce you to some impressive people. Excited?” He Songning pressed.

Xue Qingyin feigned disinterest and replied, “How could anyone be more impressive than you?”

Although He Songning disliked her clingy affections, those words clearly pleased his ambitious heart.

“Many are greater than me,” he replied modestly.

What a hypocrite, Xue Qingyin thought.

As they arrived at the poetry gathering, He Songning halted suddenly.

“Prince Xuan? What’s he doing here?”

Prince Xuan.

In the story, his presence was sparse at first.

It was said he spent years on military campaigns, wielded immense power, and had a fearsome, enigmatic personality. Ministers feared him, while noblewomen admired him.

At this stage, He Songning’s main rival was still The King of Wei since Prince Xuan wasn’t vying for power yet.

Later, the story revealed Prince Xuan wasn’t the emperor’s biological son. That’s when he began contending for the throne as the ultimate antagonist.

Xue Qingyin hadn’t finished reading past that point.

Her curiosity piqued, she peeked through the sedan’s curtain.

“Which one is Prince Xuan?” she asked.

“That one,” He Songning pointed.

Xue Qingyin looked over.

The man stood tall, dressed in a dark teal robe, an amber crown atop his head, and a sword at his waist. His imposing aura was intimidating.

Sensing her gaze, Prince Xuan turned abruptly.

Xue Qingyin felt a chill crawl up her spine, instinctively shrinking back.

Prince Xuan was… strikingly handsome.

His high nose bridge and deep-set eyes exuded an air of severity.

Unlike He Songning’s roguish charm, Prince Xuan’s features radiated a chilling intensity.

Unable to hold his gaze, Xue Qingyin glanced away, her eyes landing on his black and gold belt that emphasized his narrow waist and broad shoulders.

For a fleeting moment, she found herself imagining the strength beneath his robe. Cough. Best not to let the mind wander.

When she looked back, Prince Xuan was still watching. Unsure of how to react, she blinked at him playfully.

He Songning’s voice interrupted, “Even The King of Wei is here.”

Of course he is. This is his poetry gathering, Xue Qingyin thought.

“Come down,” He Songning said. “You must greet The King of Weiand Prince Xuan.”

Reluctantly, Xue Qingyin stepped out of the sedan.

Across the courtyard, the King of Wei, dressed in elegant white robes, approached Prince Xuan and bowed. “Brother.”

Prince Xuan acknowledged him with a curt, “Hmm.”

Prince Wei, refined and scholarly, was undoubtedly handsome.

Yet beside the towering, commanding Prince Xuan, his delicate stature seemed unimpressive.

Xue Qingyin dutifully followed He Songning, offering a vague bow before everyone moved into the garden.

Inside, tables were set up along with a stream for a traditional qushui liushang game of poetry and drinks.

Not being poetically inclined, Xue Qingyin dreaded what was to come.

As the gathering began, He Songning noticed her silence. “What’s wrong?”

“Just tired,” she replied.

He Songning frowned, but given her recent “illness,” he let it slide.

Pointing to a pavilion, Xue Qingyin added, “I’ll sit there for now.”

“Aren’t you going to greet Prince Wei? Don’t you want the imperial physician?”

“With so many people surrounding him, why squeeze in? Another day will do,” she said airily.

He Songning, while displeased, didn’t insist further.

For now, her act seemed to hold up. After all, the current Xue family dynamics weren’t worth risking discovery.

Yawning, Xue Qingyin leaned against a post, her languid expression dotted with delicate teardrops.

Like a budding lotus.

“Big Brother, keep me company,” she said sweetly.

He Songning brushed a strand of hair from her face but his gaze remained icy. “Qingyin, have you forgotten what I told you?”

Xue Qingyin pouted inwardly.

Like I’d remember anything you say, you jerk.