Chapter 5: A Scene Before the Emperor

Ning Zhaorou’s hair was a mess, her appearance disheveled. Facing a princess, she hadn’t dared fight back—only dodged as best as she could to avoid getting hit in the face. By the time Consort Liang arrived, she had already been pulled behind Shuangwu for protection, and the scene was a complete mess.

The Sixth Princess’s outburst stemmed from her notoriously fiery temper. Normally, just seeing Lady Fang in Consort Liang’s palace would already sour her mood. Now that Lady Fang was dead, her mother blamed the Emperor’s cold treatment of Lady Fang for their declining favor. Hearing that Ning Zhaorou’s voice resembled Lady Fang’s only further stoked her anger, and she’d lost control in the heat of the moment.

When someone helped Ning Zhaorou to her feet, she was still in a daze. Yet, she didn’t cry out in grievance. She looked over and saw Consort Liang softly lecturing the Sixth Princess, while the noble girls nearby stood at a safe distance, offering her no room to complain even if she wanted to.

After a few words of reprimand to the princess, Consort Liang turned her gaze to Ning Zhaorou.

Having been a consort for many years, she could see at a glance that Ning Zhaorou was a rare beauty. In a palace filled with beautiful women, none had quite the same charm as her—just enough allure to captivate, not so much as to be gaudy, soft and delicate in perfect measure.

“What caused you to quarrel with the princess?” she asked.

This accusation was entirely unfounded. Ning Zhaorou had been bullied from start to finish, but with no one to speak on her behalf, she already knew—swallowing the grievance was the best outcome she could hope for.

Just as she was about to answer, a female voice spoke from behind her:
“Greetings, Consort Liang. His Majesty has learned of the disturbance caused by the Sixth Princess and has ordered that the princess and this young lady be brought before him.”

At those words, the Sixth Princess immediately stopped crying. She shrank behind her mother and clutched tightly at her gown.

Consort Liang’s heart sank. The Emperor had already been cold toward her the day before—now her daughter had stirred up trouble that had reached his ears. Things were not looking good.

“It was only childish roughhousing. His Majesty is burdened with the affairs of state—there’s no need to trouble him with such petty matters. I shall go and explain everything myself,” she said.

But the maid had come directly from the Emperor’s side. And imperial attendants did not follow the commands of consorts—they obeyed only the Emperor’s will. The maid gave a slight bow and replied, “Your Highness, His Majesty has summoned only the Sixth Princess and this young lady.”

Consort Liang’s face darkened. She pulled the Sixth Princess from behind her, then stepped forward and gently tidied Ning Zhaorou’s hair, softly saying:

“A pretty young girl like you must love to look her best. It was the princess who was at fault today. I shall have a gift sent to the Anping Marquis’s residence another day—something to dress you up beautifully.”

“Now go on.”

Ning Zhaorou kept her eyes lowered the entire way. One couldn’t appear before the Emperor looking disheveled, so before entering the imperial tent, a palace maid helped tidy her appearance and re-pinned her hair.

“You’re ready, miss,” the maid’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Ning Zhaorou snapped back to her senses, looked at them, and then responded dully with a soft “oh” before turning to the mirror.

The face reflected in the bronze mirror was pale, with clear traces of fear in her eyes.

She wasn’t just frightened by what Consort Liang had said—what terrified her even more was facing the Emperor.

“Miss, it’s time. His Majesty is waiting,” the maid reminded her gently.

Ning Zhaorou pressed her lips together, her expression tense, and stepped into the imperial tent.

This was clearly a space used for official imperial business. As she rounded the screen, she saw the Sixth Princess already kneeling on the floor—her earlier arrogance completely gone.

Ning Zhaorou didn’t dare lift her head. She walked past the princess, then knelt down a step behind her and offered her salute.

Her voice trembled uncontrollably.

The Sixth Princess had already admitted fault earlier. How could she have known the matter would blow up all the way to her father? All she did was hit someone. And honestly, that girl didn’t even look any more noble than the servants in her palace. A daughter of the Marquis? What a disgrace.

But her mother had warned her that the Emperor had no tolerance for nonsense. So, she had no choice but to admit she was wrong first.

Yet even after doing so, she hadn’t seen the Emperor’s expression change in the slightest.

Now that Ning Zhaorou had come in, her anger bubbled even higher.

Yin Mingyu’s voice rang out—not to speak with Ning Zhaorou about that night, but instead to coolly order the Sixth Princess to explain what had happened. Why had she hit someone? What had she said?

The princess stumbled through her explanation, carefully omitting all the vile words she had thrown at Ning Zhaorou earlier.

Yin Mingyu didn’t interrupt. Only when she finished did he rest his chin lightly on one hand, his gaze narrowing slightly as he finally spoke:

“I once thought you were merely childish—playful but with some sense of restraint. But now it seems your mother has spoiled you far too much, giving you the gall to bully others, even to act with contempt before your emperor.”

“F-Father…” The princess didn’t even know where she had gone wrong, but she could tell he was angry.

Yin Mingyu called someone in. “Take the Sixth Princess away. She is to stay inside her own tent and read quietly for the next few days. No one is to visit her. Anyone who disobeys will be caned thirty times.”

With the princess escorted out, Ning Zhaorou, who had remained silent since entering, stayed prostrated, not daring to move an inch.

Only then did Yin Mingyu lower his gaze to look at her. Although he had already figured out she was the girl from that night, he hadn’t actually seen her face. Now here she was, kneeling before him—clearly with no intention of bringing up what had happened.

He gave a soft chuckle, the sound unusually clear in the quiet tent, making Ning Zhaorou grow even more anxious.

“You have nothing to say?”

She quickly shook her head and admitted fault—saying only that she shouldn’t have played pitch-pot with the princess, shouldn’t have spoken and disturbed her.

Yin Mingyu had already heard all the details from others. He knew full well the kind of foul words the princess had hurled. Watching Ning Zhaorou now, clearly terrified, speaking in a whisper like she was scared of saying even one wrong word—it almost seemed pitiful.

He mused aloud, “Where was that courage the night you kicked me?”

Her voice instantly stopped. She flattened herself to the ground, motionless.

Yin Mingyu turned slightly to take a sip of tea, patiently waiting. After two sips, he finally heard a muffled sob and pleading voice below.

“Your Majesty, please forgive me… That night, I—I entered the wrong tent… I didn’t know—I truly didn’t know Your Majesty was inside. I panicked and just wanted to escape… My limbs acted on their own—Your Majesty, I am guilty, I admit my fault, I beg of you, please don’t…”

She cried in a quiet, stifled way, but her last sentence suddenly trailed off, like a little fox trying to hide its tail. Then, as if realizing she’d left it hanging, she hurriedly mumbled out the remaining words.

Yin Mingyu didn’t quite catch them, and raised a brow, amused. “Don’t what?”

Ning Zhaorou froze. Her lips quivered, teeth clattered slightly, and she forced out the words again:
“…Don’t kill me.”

So she really thought he was a tyrant who ordered executions on a whim?

Yin Mingyu quickly guessed what had frightened her—it must’ve been the punishment he ordered that night after the incident. Now she feared she’d face the same fate.

But he didn’t execute people without cause. And she had no reason to be punished—at least, not yet.