The reactions of the crowd did not escape the foreign prince’s notice.
His gaze toward Ye Shaohua grew even more brazen.
The palace banquet dragged on until its conclusion. As they dispersed, Ye Shaohua noticed Qu Huashang still lingering by the doorway, her eyes clouded with disappointment.
Who is she waiting for? Ye Shaohua narrowed her eyes.
Though curious about this future “Empress of Virtue” history would praise, Ye Shaohua didn’t dwell on it—someone soon arrived to escort her away.
“Matron, this isn’t the path to the Cold Palace,” Ye Shaohua remarked idly as she followed.
The matron leading her didn’t bother masking her disdain. “Do you know the palace better than I do?”
Not even an honorific.
With a frosty glare, the matron gestured sharply to the left. “This way.”
Ye Shaohua chuckled. Did they truly think her a fool?
She said nothing more and followed until they reached an ornate palace gate. The matron ordered it opened and announced, “His Majesty awaits you inside.”
The moment Ye Shaohua stepped through, the gates slammed shut behind her.
Inside, sprawled unconscious on the floor, was the foreign prince. The hall reeked of Huagong Powder—a drug meant to nullify martial prowess.
When the prince awoke to find himself in this predicament, his face twisted in horror at the sight of Ye Shaohua. “Y-you—! Why are you here?!”
Though lustful, he wasn’t stupid. Waking up drugged in a sealed chamber with a royal consort? This was a trap.
He expected panic from the woman, but instead, she leaned against a pillar, casually biting into an apple she’d pulled from her sleeve.
“Well?” She arched a brow at his gaping expression.
The prince’s eyes bulged. This was nothing like the timid beauty from the banquet! “You—you’re nothing like before!”
“Can’t help it. Someone wants me dead.” Ye Shaohua shrugged, then flicked her fingers. A chair glided across the floor to her. She settled into it comfortably.
The prince’s jaw dropped.
Noticing his shock, she flicked her fingers again. Another chair slid beneath him. “Sit.”
The prince collapsed into it, numb. Hallucinating. Definitely hallucinating. He pinched his thigh—hard—and nearly yelped in pain.
Ye Shaohua misinterpreted his stare. “Ah.” She rummaged in her sleeve and tossed him a second apple.
“Let’s talk.” She took another bite. “How’s your kingdom these days?”
The prince answered mechanically. Against someone who moved furniture with a thought, resistance seemed pointless.
Ye Shaohua listened, thoughtful.
“G-Great One,” the prince stammered, clutching his uneaten apple, “with your power, can’t you escape?”
She finished her apple in silence and tossed the core. Midair, it vanished.
The prince’s eyes nearly popped out.
“They’re here.” Ye Shaohua stood and snapped her fingers. The chairs zoomed back to their original spots.
The prince, oblivious, crashed to the floor. His apple had disappeared too.
Should’ve eaten it when I had the chance! he lamented—just as the palace doors burst open.
Emperor Yu Wenjing stormed in, flanked by Prince Rui and the foreign envoys.
The prince’s advisor paled. “Y-Your Highness! Why are you with the Imperial Consort?!”
After the banquet, he’d researched the woman—not just a disgraced consort, but General Ye’s daughter. A figure even their kingdom feared.
“This is the infamous Consort Ye?” The prince mused, oddly calm.
“Your Highness! Focus! We’re in crisis!” the advisor hissed.
The prince waved him off. “The Emperor’s eyesight must be terrible.”
Before the advisor could react, Yu Wenjing’s voice thundered across the hall.
“Consort Ye.” The Emperor’s gaze was icy with manufactured heartbreak. “You’ve betrayed Us. Again.” He raised a hand. “Seize her. Charge: treasonous collusion with the enemy.”
