Chapter 25: The Palace Banquet

In the blink of an eye, the day of the palace banquet arrived.

Carriages from the Marquis of Zhenguo’s estate arrived early, claiming to be there to collect their relatives for the event. Meng Qingyue looked around and saw three carriages waiting outside the manor. Assuming the lead carriage was reserved for the Marchioness of Huainan and the Marchioness of Zhenguo, she moved toward the second one without a second thought.

Suddenly, she heard Meng Xingzhou’s low, lingering voice from behind her. "That carriage belongs to the Heir. If you rush over there so eagerly, are you afraid others won't know exactly what you’re planning?"

Meng Qingyue’s face turned scarlet in an instant. With all three carriages looking identical, she truly had no idea the Heir was inside. She changed direction and boarded the third carriage. In her heart, she speculated that Meng Changle would surely be with the Heir, and Meng Xingzhou would likely not want to share a ride with her; she figured she would probably end up alone in this last carriage.

Yet, just as she was thinking this, the carriage curtain stirred, and a pair of slender, well-defined hands reached in—it was Meng Xingzhou.

Meng Qingyue was slightly startled, but she said nothing, merely shifting to the side to make room. Meng Xingzhou swept his gaze over her, noting how she had retreated into the very corner, as if... as if she were avoiding him like a flood or a wild beast. He gave her a cool look and sat down.

The journey was bumpy, and the two remained silent, each sitting on their own side, keeping to themselves. They looked less like siblings who had grown up together and more like a young couple having a lover’s spat.

After a long while, it was Meng Qingyue who finally broke the silence. She sounded hesitant, yet driven by an urge to speak her mind. "Brother, the rumors in the manor lately... are they true?"

Meng Xingzhou glanced at her. "What rumors?"

Meng Qingyue grew embarrassed, lowering her head. She found it difficult to speak, fearing she might bruise his ego. But remembering how Cui’er had rushed back that day, breathlessly telling her that the young master had a preference for men, she found it impossible to believe. And yet, when she considered that no woman had ever appeared by his side in all these years, the idea seemed to hold water. Caught in doubt, her face flushed before she had even finished her question.

Meng Xingzhou knew exactly what she wanted to ask. He turned his head slightly, and as he looked at the woman whose face glowed like sunset clouds, he felt his focus drift. The daylight outside filtered through the window, spilling across Meng Qingyue’s face and shoulders. He followed the beams of light, his gaze falling greedily upon her rosy lips, her delicate neck... and lower still.

He was suddenly jolted by a tremor, and as if waking from a dream, he felt a surge of secret chagrin. He turned his head away, looking somewhat unnatural. After a moment, he asked, "Qingyue, if it were you, what would you do?"

"What do you mean, 'what would I do'?"

Meng Qingyue was still perplexed. Meng Xingzhou gritted his teeth, steeled his heart, and asked bluntly, "If... the person you wished to spend your life with... could not receive the blessing of your parents and could not be revealed to the light of day, what would you do?"

Meng Xingzhou swallowed hard, looking at Meng Qingyue with nervous anticipation.

Meng Qingyue was stunned into silence. She had hoped it was merely gossip, but she never imagined her brother had truly fallen for a man! And that he wanted to spend his life with him! He was even seeking counsel from her! For a moment, her feelings were truly complex. When she looked up again, she saw an intense, burning eagerness in Meng Xingzhou’s eyes.

She froze, suppressing the strange feeling in her heart, and spoke with careful deliberation. "Love is love. Mutual affection is what matters most. If you truly love him, and he truly cherishes you in return, what could possibly stand in the way?"

*Love is love. Mutual affection is what matters most.*

Meng Xingzhou felt a surge of waves crashing in his chest. Looking at the gentle, water-like woman before him, he could barely suppress his fervor. His breathing grew shallow, and he opened his mouth to speak. "Qingyue... actually, I..."

"Young Master, Miss, we have arrived!"

The loud, rough voice of the carriage driver interrupted the inexplicable atmosphere within the carriage. Meng Qingyue, already feeling restless, rose with a sense of relief. "Brother, let us get out quickly."

With a thousand words stifled in his throat, Meng Xingzhou pressed his lips together and fell silent. He leaped out first, then turned back to offer his hand to Meng Qingyue.

The sky was clear and the clouds were soft, making the person before him appear as beautiful as a painting. Meng Qingyue felt a brief moment of distraction, but under Meng Xingzhou’s complex gaze, she offered a faint smile and moved to avoid his hand.

Meng Xingzhou’s hand remained frozen in mid-air, looking inexplicably lonely.

Today was the birthday banquet of the Noble Consort Chen.

"The Noble Consort is so well-preserved, her beauty is peerless. She looks no more than twenty, and even the flowers in this garden would feel inferior compared to Her Ladyship!"

In the Imperial Garden, the noble ladies crowded around, chirping their praises. Having been lectured in Noble Consort Chen’s palace for many days, Meng Changle considered herself closer to the Consort than the others, and so she spared no effort in her flattery.

Noble Consort Chen walked gracefully, every gesture and smile brimming with elegance. "Changle certainly has the sweetest tongue. But my son is already nearing adulthood; how could I still bear to be compared to the flowers?"

At these words, the surrounding noble ladies all flushed crimson. This was because the Noble Consort’s beloved son, Prince Zhao, was handsome and refined, like pine and jade—the man of every young lady’s dreams in the capital. More importantly, Prince Zhao had yet to take a wife, or even a concubine.

With these ladies gathered around, such thoughts were inevitable. A bold one among them asked, "On this auspicious birthday, will Prince Zhao be attending...?"

Noble Consort Chen remained silent, her expression cooling. Seeing the trembling girl who had asked, Meng Changle merely smiled, saying nothing, though she knew the reason why.

Two days ago, while receiving instructions in the Consort’s palace, she had inadvertently witnessed the usually gentle and composed Consort fly into a rage, all because her precious son had nearly been seduced! The Fourth Miss of the Zhao family had been bold enough; after years of unrequited love for the Prince, she had tried to sneak into his bed while he was intoxicated during a banquet. Had the Prince’s matrons not arrived in time, the Fourth Miss Zhao might well have succeeded. Even so, it had infuriated the Noble Consort, and she now held little patience for women who coveted her son.

Knowing all this, Meng Changle chatted with the Consort about mundane matters, maintaining a gentle and soft demeanor. Noble Consort Chen looked at her with a hint of approval. "Changle is becoming increasingly dignified. You have truly made great progress."

Meng Changle blushed slightly. "It is all thanks to Your Ladyship’s guidance."

Noble Consort Chen nodded and asked, "By the way, I sent invitations to both daughters of the Marquis of Huainan. Why is your sister not here?"

Meng Changle tightened her grip on her sleeves, keeping a warm smile on her face. "My sister came as well, but this is her first time in the palace. I am afraid I do not know where she has wandered off to."

Noble Consort Chen nodded and pressed no further. The group walked slowly. Before long, as the winter sun climbed higher and the heat became unbearable, the Consort took the ladies to a pavilion in the middle of the lake to enjoy the sound of the flute over the water.

"Who is that woman in front of the rockery?" The Noble Consort squinted, the glare of the sun making it difficult for her to see clearly.

Meng Changle followed her gaze, and upon seeing the woman in green, who had her back turned and was squatting on the ground, she frowned deeply.

*Meng Qingyue?!*