Even someone as careless as Li Jing could sense something amiss in Li Ce's demeanor. Normally, when taking his medicine, Li Ce would knit his brows and sip it slowly, as if enduring unbearable bitterness. But this evening, Li Jing saw him down the decoction in one gulp, as though it were plain water. To disregard the bitterness on the tongue meant there was greater bitterness within the heart.
This won't do, he thought. Little Nine needs to get out. There's no sorrow that can't be drowned in wine and song—and if one round doesn't suffice, then have another.
But to his dismay, some accursed soul had rented out the entire Huazhao Pavilion. Li Jing had wanted to exchange a few words with one of the beautiful attendants at the manager's side, but before he could even stop walking, Li Ce turned and left without a word. Li Jing had no choice but to follow.
They had barely taken a few steps when something warm and wet came splashing down from above.
"Apologies!" a clear voice called from the upper floor. "It's just wine. If you don't believe me, give it a taste!"
Taste it? Li Jing trembled with rage. He looked up, bewildered, and saw a young lady leaning over the third-floor balcony. The lamplight illuminated her graceful silhouette—beautiful and arrogant. Who else could it be but his lifelong nemesis?
Flinging filth by day and wine by night—did she take him for a garbage pit?
"Ye Jiao!" Li Jing shouted, pointing his folded fan at the balcony. "Just you wait!"
Furious, he stormed upstairs. Seeing his disheveled hair soaked and clinging to his forehead, the innkeeper dared not stop him and simply let him pass.
"Done for!" Ye Jiao sprang away and tried to flee. She first made for the stairs but realized that would lead her straight into Li Jing. Then she darted behind the pipa-playing courtesan, only to find she was too slender to offer cover. She turned toward Yan Congzheng, only to recall his earlier words—hadn't he just confessed feelings for her?
After all these years? Now, of all times?
Ye Jiao glanced across at the opposite building, calculating the jump, ready to leap. But her hesitation cost her—the next moment, Li Jing was already on the third floor.
Panting, he tucked his fan into his sash and rolled up his sleeves. "What is it exactly that you want?"
Ye Jiao had one leg over the railing. At his voice, she smiled down at him. "Didn't I say I was sorry?"
"And what about the mess in my courtyard?" Li Jing pressed on. "How did another whole bag get tossed in this afternoon?"
The commotion had drawn the martial guards to the third floor. Seeing that the troublemaker was none other than Prince Zhao, they dared not shield their superior.
One of the captains defended, "It only happened once this morning, not again in the afternoon."
But Bai Xianyu squeezed forward with a grin and explained to Ye Jiao, "Here's the thing—a local scoundrel wanted a favor from our commander. To win her over, he tossed a bag of muck into Prince Zhao's residence."
Li Jing was dumbfounded. Throwing filth at his estate was now a gesture of allegiance to Ye Jiao?
"Why wasn't I informed?" Ye Jiao clung to the railing. "From now on, no more throwing! Say I said so!" She then looked at Li Jing with narrowed eyes and smiled. "There, all cleared up. May I come up now?"
With a snort, Li Jing let the matter drop. Yan Congzheng reached to help Ye Jiao, and she used his hand lightly to vault back over the railing.
But as she looked up again, she froze. Standing behind Li Jing was Li Ce, his dark garments blending into the shadows, yet his pale, striking features and the regal bearing in his every motion made him impossible to ignore. Even in a crowd, Ye Jiao could recognize him in an instant.
She quickly let go of Yan Congzheng's arm, her expression stiff with awkwardness.
"The misunderstanding is resolved," Yan Congzheng broke the brief silence, inviting Li Jing and Li Ce to sit. "If Your Highnesses don't mind, please stay and share a few cups of wine while enjoying Miss Biluo's new song."
"I shall remain to attend to you," Bai Xianyu said eagerly, bustling about with cushions and a table, all smiles and industry.
It was the perfect opportunity—not only could he converse with Yan Congzheng, but he might also curry favor with two princes. Aware of Bai's background, Yan Congzheng made no attempt to stop him.
"Now that's more like it." Li Jing wiped the wine from his head and told his attendant, "Fetch me a basin of hot water and borrow a lady's hair oil. Looking like this, I've no appetite for drink."
A group of girls quickly accompanied him downstairs to help tidy his appearance.
Ye Jiao tried to slip out as well, but Yan Congzheng stopped her with a raised hand.
"I haven't finished what I came to say."
His eyes, tender yet possessive, made Ye Jiao's skin crawl. Why now, of all times? She hadn't even sorted things out with Li Ce yet. She couldn't take another word of affection from anyone.
She stole a glance at Li Ce. He was already seated before the table, back straight, demeanor composed. His deep eyes betrayed no emotion—not even jealousy or irritation. He quietly poured himself a cup of wine, awaiting their company, completely unconcerned with Ye Jiao's interactions, Yan Congzheng's obstruction, or even Ye Jiao herself.
Anger surged through her, her cheeks flushed, and fists clenched. To hell with it.
She marched to the table and sat opposite Li Ce, eyes falling on the white jade pendant hanging from his waist. The luster was warm, the deer-carving exquisite.
"Why do you have that?"
Li Ce lifted his glass and replied with a wry smile, "Someone tossed it away. One of my attendants picked it up."
Ye Jiao wanted to vanish on the spot. She bit her lip, her hands trembling, uncertain what to say.
Bai Xianyu, who had been preparing tea, saw this and quickly interjected, "Ah, so His Highness found it! Our commander was terrified after losing it—searched the city gates for hours, didn't even eat lunch, nearly fainted!"
His tone was dramatic, expressions exaggerated. In truth, there had been no tears, no desperate search, and certainly no fainting. But Bai Xianyu could read the room. The rumors must be true: Prince Chu had rejected the match, and Ye Jiao, relentless in her pursuit, had resorted to petty tantrums and symbolic gestures—like flinging filth.
If she became Princess Consort, that commander's seat would surely be vacated.
Li Ce said nothing. He lowered his gaze and drank silently, his taut jaw betraying some restrained emotion. After a pause, he simply said, "No harm done. Consider it returned to its rightful owner."
Ye Jiao sighed with relief—but also annoyance. Across from her sat Li Ce, beside her Yan Congzheng—she felt utterly trapped.
Thankfully, Li Jing returned.
He had an arm wrapped around a young lady and plopped down beside Li Ce, jovial. He picked up a grape from the table and offered it to the girl. "The ladies of Huazhao Pavilion are simply the best. Little Nine, want one? It's on Lady Ye anyway—her treat, not yours."
The room fell quiet.
Bai Xianyu cautiously tended the tea, not daring to speak. Yan Congzheng poured wine for Ye Jiao, clearly distracted.
Ye Jiao bit her lip, eyes on Li Ce, who finally said, "Sure. Pick one for me."
Yan Congzheng's hand froze mid-pour. He glanced at Ye Jiao instinctively.
It was the most humiliating moment—an old flame, right before her eyes, soliciting a courtesan.
Ye Jiao didn't flare up. Instead, she slammed her hand on the table and declared, "One? Not enough. Bring ten!"
Ten courtesans, clinging to his arms as if he didn't have enough limbs to go around.
Li Jing gave her a thumbs-up. "Now that's extravagance!"
Ye Jiao swept her gaze across the room. "Any men? Bring me ten as well!"
Li Jing's thumb froze in mid-air. He withdrew it slowly, laughing awkwardly. "Aren't those captains downstairs… all your men anyway?"