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He wanted Song Feiwan, desired to be with her. Yet, as a subject and a brother, he could not take the wife of Xiao Yu. Reason and emotion clashed within him like two blades, alternating between cold and heat, incessantly cutting at him until his insides bled profusely. He forced himself not to look at the woman who haunted his dreams, but his heart had already flown far away.
How could he alleviate the pain in his heart? He did not know. Perhaps this feeling would never see the light of day. Only death could dissolve it.
On the other side, Song Feiwan had downed two jars of tribute wine, and the effects were finally taking hold; she felt dizzy all over. Xiao Yu noticed her unusual state and asked in a deep, magnetic voice, "Song Feiwan?"
She shook her head, her melodious voice slightly tipsy, tinged with the sweet scent of wine. "Your Highness, I think I'm a bit drunk," she said slowly, causing his emotions to rise and fall with her words. "I'll handle it."
Xiao Yu frowned. "This prince will go with you."
"No, no," she replied, "I know what I'm doing; I'm not that drunk. Just wait for me here; it won't take long."
Xiao Yu pressed his lips together, slightly displeased.
Song Feiwan looked at him with her sparkling eyes, her voice softening unconsciously. "Please? Give me some face."
He let out a breath. "Go quickly and come back soon."
"Mm-hmm!"
As she left, Song Feiwan grabbed a piece of pastry. She still needed something to settle her stomach; it seemed she was fine after all. Xiao Yu's lips curled into a slight smile as he let her go.
However, the space beside him suddenly felt empty. No matter who approached him for small talk, he had no interest in responding. The lingering fragrance of her presence made him coldly sweep his gaze over the noisy crowd before scaring them away.
Song Feiwan left the grand hall alone and hurried down a path. Once she confirmed that no one was around, she administered a few acupuncture needles to herself.
The sensation of stimulation coursed through her body, suppressing the slight intoxication she felt. While waiting for her clarity to return, she summoned a palace maid to deliver a message to the Crown Princess, Ning Yuqin. It was merely a simple verse; even if others learned of it, they could not use it against her.
Afterward, she traversed the corridor and entered an empty side chamber. Before long, the door was gently pushed open.
Song Feiwan lifted her gaze to see a tall woman with an elegant bone structure entering the room. Dressed in resplendent brocade, adorned with luxurious jewels and golden hairpins, she walked with an upright posture, her hairpins not even swaying as she moved. Despite the makeup, her lips appeared pale and her complexion sallow. Beneath the brocade, her figure was undoubtedly thin and frail. Yet, her eyes were strikingly clear, calm, and sharp, exuding the aura of a general's daughter.
Having met the Crown Princess before, Song Feiwan stood up and greeted her respectfully.
Ning Yuqin regarded the breathtaking beauty of Song Feiwan with a twinge of envy at her healthy complexion. However, she maintained a guarded demeanor and asked, "You need not be so formal, Princess Chen. You must know the relationship between our husbands; why have you secretly invited me here?"
Song Feiwan took out a clean cloth and neatly folded it on the table beside her, gesturing for Ning Yuqin to take a seat. "Let’s check your pulse first."
Ning Yuqin paused in surprise. "You want to treat me? Why?"
Without elaborating further, Song Feiwan replied, "We don’t have much time. The maid knows I sent you a message; if anything happens to you, I will be suspected. So you need not worry about me harming you here."
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