After saying this, Autumn Moon eagerly ushered Chan Zhen back into the room. The governor valued Chan Zhen, having previously gifted her many silks, satins, gold, and jewelry.

Excited, Autumn Moon brought them all out, selecting items while asking Chan Zhen’s opinion. 

“Miss, what do you think of this blue one?” She held up a skirt made of moonlit brocade. “It shines brilliantly under the moonlight, perfect for you.” 

Chan Zhen was trying to recall the court etiquette she had learned, remembering how to greet His Majesty without making a mistake, so she didn’t look up and casually replied, “Mm, this one.” 

“Good, this one then.” Autumn Moon happily placed the dress aside, then opened the jewelry box, selecting matching accessories. “I’ll redo your hair.” 

Chan Zhen sat at the dressing table like a puppet, letting Autumn Moon work. Autumn Moon had served the governor’s wife for a while and was very skilled.

When she finished, a fresh and refined beauty appeared in the mirror. Her hair was neatly arranged, her face fair and rosy. Her slightly furrowed brow added a touch of melancholy, captivating the eye. 

“Miss, you’re so beautiful,” Autumn Moon stared at the reflection, blushing. 

Chan Zhen gently adjusted her hair, gazing at her reflection with a confused expression. She bore a slight resemblance to her mother, but even her mother’s beauty hadn’t been able to keep her father’s heart. Her mother had died without seeing him again.

Those who rely on beauty will see their love fade with their looks—this was a lesson she learned from her mother from a young age. Her father, a mere merchant, had been unfaithful, let alone the emperor who ruled the empire. How could she expect His Majesty’s affection? 

“Autumn Moon, I’m afraid.” 

Her voice trembled. 

She was only fifteen and was about to walk the same path as her mother, perhaps with an even more tragic outcome. 

“Miss?” Autumn Moon didn’t understand her fear. In her eyes, Miss Song was exceptionally beautiful; any man would be captivated by her. 

Seeing Autumn Moon’s puzzled expression, Chan Zhen knew she couldn’t understand. She bit her lip, suppressing her fear, trying to appear calm, “It’s nothing. I should go.” 

As she went out, the steward looked up, his eyes immediately lit up. His amazed gaze lingered on her for a long time before reluctantly moving away. What a beauty! Only His Majesty could possess such a beauty. For someone of his status, even catching a glimpse was a blessing. 

“Miss Song, please follow me.” 

His Majesty’s courtyard was located in the north of the governor’s mansion, quite a distance from Chan Zhen’s residence. Chan Zhen followed the steward through several long corridors before arriving. 

His Majesty had brought many guards on this inspection tour, tightly guarding the courtyard, completely surrounding it. The steward was stopped at the entrance. 

Chan Zhen, holding her pipa, stared intently at her feet, not daring to look around. These guards were veterans who had killed and seen blood, their aura far exceeding ordinary guards. She had never seen such a scene before and felt short of breath. 

If the guards were so imposing, His Majesty must be even more frightening. Although she had prepared herself mentally, her heart began to pound again. 

“Commander Fang, this is Miss Song. I’ve brought her to serve His Majesty,” the steward said flatteringly to Fang Wen. 

Fang Wen’s stern expression softened slightly. Turning to Chan Zhen, although he couldn’t see her face clearly because she was bowing her head, her figure was graceful. Even he couldn’t help but admire her. No wonder Ye Wenyuan was so confident; her figure alone indicated she was a rare beauty. 

“His Majesty instructed that only Miss Song should enter.” 

Chan Zhen’s breath hitched, her heart almost leaping out. 

Fang Wen stepped aside to let her pass, “Miss, please go in. His Majesty drank some wine and is slightly intoxicated. Please serve him well.” 

Chan Zhen had no choice but to bravely proceed. 

She didn’t see any maids along the way, which she found strange. She had heard that His Majesty was always served by beautiful palace maids, but she hadn’t seen a single one. 

Finally, she reached the door. The room was brightly lit but silent. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice from trembling. 

“This servant has come to serve His Majesty at the governor’s command.” 

Chan Zhen felt it took a long time before a voice finally came from inside, deeper than she imagined. 

“Come in.” 

Chan Zhen mustered her courage and pushed open the door, but she didn’t dare look up. She only vaguely saw a tall figure sitting at a desk in front, presumably His Majesty. She slowly approached, kneeling and bowing as she had practiced. 

“This servant greets His Majesty.” 

Although she didn’t look up, she could feel His Majesty’s gaze on her, intense and oppressive, like a surging black tide engulfing her. 

Chan Zhen nervously closed her eyes, feeling her body tremble. 

After a long while, she heard His Majesty sigh, and the intimidating aura suddenly disappeared. 

“Rise. Sit and talk with me.” 

“This servant thanks His Majesty.” Chan Zhen had thought she would have to kneel and play for His Majesty, but after His Majesty’s words, she realized there was a chair nearby. She carefully got up but didn’t dare sit fully, only her buttocks touching the edge. 

“This servant dares to ask Your Majesty, what piece would you like to hear?” She nervously wondered, she only knew some Jiangnan tunes. What if His Majesty wanted something she couldn’t play? 

“What do you want to play?” His Majesty asked her, before she could answer, he added, “Anything you play is fine.” 

Chan Zhen’s head spun. Did His Majesty mean for her to improvise? Still, she subconsciously played the piece she was most familiar with. 

“Bai Tou Yin,” it was one of the first pieces she learned, melancholic and lingering, like a lover confessing their love.

Her father had always groomed her to please the powerful, so the music teacher he hired taught her accordingly, striving to make her as charming and lovely as possible to win the favor of the powerful.