Twenty-seven

On the other side, beneath the long corridor adorned with pavilions and elegant halls, two men walked side by side. From a distance, their bearing was extraordinary—one exuding rebellious defiance, the other refined and courteous.

"Ah Xian, I hear you are soon to be wed to the eldest Miss Meng. Allow me to congratulate you in advance," said one of them.

The two were clearly close friends, speaking with ease. "Congratulations to you as well, Your Highness Prince Zhao. Once my sister returns in a month, your marriage to her should be arranged!"

Prince Zhao’s expression faltered subtly, as if recalling something. For a moment, he hesitated regarding this betrothal arranged since childhood.

Qiao Xian, who had come specifically to gauge the situation for his sister, frowned at this. "Your Highness, what do you mean by that?"

His tone darkened. Although Prince Zhao was of noble blood, if he truly betrayed his sister, Qiao Xian would never stand idly by.

Perhaps sensing Qiao Xian’s unease, Prince Zhao smiled gently. "When my sister returns, both my mother and I shall personally visit to offer our congratulations."

For a noble consort and a royal son to pay a personal visit, the reason was almost self-evident.

Only then did Qiao Xian relax. No matter who it was, no one could bully his sister—not even the consorts or princesses within the palace!

The two continued their casual conversation as they walked to the waterside pavilion by the imperial lake. From afar, they spotted a crowd gathered, though it was unclear what was happening.

Qiao Xian’s sharp eyes immediately recognized the drenched woman kneeling on the ground and called out loudly, "Second Miss Meng!"

The shout stunned everyone present. The Imperial Consort Chen furrowed her brows. "What did you say?"

What Second Miss Meng?

Before Qiao Xian could reply, Meng Changle suddenly emerged from the crowd, hurriedly grabbing his arm and pouting, "Ah Xian, what a surprise... I heard the imperial garden is picturesque. Will you accompany me for a stroll?"

She looked at him nervously, her heart pounding in her throat.

Qiao Xian was puzzled, about to speak, when suddenly the scene beside him blurred—his mother’s grace distorted by fury. "Mother, what is going on here? How could you injure her so badly?"

Prince Zhao strode over to Meng Qingyue, who had collapsed weakly on the ground, and angrily demanded answers.

Imperial Consort Chen’s anger, which had just subsided, flared anew. "And you dare defend her? Ling Shuzhi, this woman seduces you, yet you speak on her behalf?"

Fuming with rage, she no longer cared to preserve her son’s dignity and spoke recklessly.

Prince Zhao found his mother’s behavior absurd. He widened his eyes in disbelief. "You say she seduced me? Mother, have you lost your mind?"

If not for the many noble ladies present, he almost would have openly questioned her. That day, Qingyue saved his life at the cliff’s edge. His mother had even praised her kindness and intelligence. How could she now claim Qingyue was seducing him?

Prince Zhao’s fierce defense of Meng Qingyue nearly overwhelmed Consort Chen with fury.

Clutching her chest, she staggered back several steps. The usually composed and dignified woman suddenly burst into tears. "What sin have I committed to bear such a rebellious son? I am ashamed before our royal ancestors!"

"You began studying in the study at three, had famous teachers at five, yet all your education has gone to waste! You shamelessly defend this bed-hopping temptress and even dare to slap my face. Ling Shuzhi, do you intend to kill your mother?"

Only now did Prince Zhao begin to piece together some clues.

A bed-hopping temptress?

Who was his mother referring to?

Before he could sort it out, the enraged Imperial Consort Chen stepped forward, and in her fury, dealt a sharp slap that sent Meng Qingyue sprawling to the ground, silent thereafter.

Everyone was stunned.

They exchanged glances in shocked silence.

Prince Zhao’s expression darkened. His puzzled question remained unvoiced as he declared, "Mother, your conduct is truly ungrateful."

Without hesitation, he lifted Meng Qingyue in his arms, ignoring his mother’s frantic calls behind him as he strode away.

"Ah Xian, listen to me... this isn’t what you think..."

The farce came to an end. The crowd dispersed like startled birds. Imperial Consort Chen returned to her seat, grief-stricken, while in the imperial garden, Qiao Xian’s face grew cold before Meng Changle.

He said icily, "The banquet is about to begin. Miss Meng, do not be late."

Meng Changle’s throat tightened, tears welling in her beautiful eyes as she plaintively explained, "Ah Xian, you blame me for not pleading for Qingyue, but the consort’s status is supreme. How could I possibly interfere with her decision..."

Qiao Xian stared at her blankly, disappointment slowly surfacing in his eyes. "Do you think I blame you for Qingyue’s plight? Changle, I only ask one thing—why did you not openly tell the consort who that woman was?"

Though Qiao Xian had arrived late, he had grasped the gist—Imperial Consort Chen had mistaken the woman’s identity.

But even if the consort did not know Meng Qingyue, nor the noble ladies present, did Meng Changle not know her?

If she had even the slightest sisterly affection, would it have been so difficult to tell the consort clearly: this is Meng Qingyue, the Second Miss of the Meng family?

Yet why did she remain silent from beginning to end?

What was she truly thinking?

Whether Meng Qingyue lived or died was none of his concern, but the woman he was to marry could never be so cold and heartless!

Meng Changle stared at Qiao Xian in a daze, finally realizing the fear in his cold gaze.

"Ah Xian, it’s not what you think. I was just too afraid... I didn’t react in time... Ah Xian..."

Tears threatened to spill, but Qiao Xian showed no mercy and turned away with a flick of his sleeve.

"Are you awake?"

A warm voice entered her ears. Meng Qingyue slowly opened her eyes, still dazed and unaware of what had happened.

Seeing her silence, Prince Zhao assumed she was burdened by some emotional knot and lowered his head apologetically. "I’m sorry... about what happened... it seems Mother mistook you for someone else."

Yet knowing she had soaked in the wintery lake water for long, a simple apology seemed insufficient.

He thought for a moment, then continued, "I have some jewelry and hairpins once bestowed by the late Emperor in my treasury. If you like, I will send them to your residence."

He knew his mother’s actions were unjust, yet he was genuinely unsure how to make amends to Meng Qingyue.

Perhaps these trinkets would please a young lady—imperial gifts she might appreciate.

A nearby attendant quickly interjected, "Your Highness, His Majesty said those items are for the future princess consort..."

The scene ended there.