Ye Jiao sipped her wine leisurely. Her view obstructed, she tilted her head and leaned away from the table, straining to catch Li Ce's reaction—until Li Zhang came to a stop before her. Only then did she realize he was approaching her deliberately, not merely passing by. How vexing.
Though he had lent her a hand in the corridor, at this moment, Ye Jiao wanted only to tease Li Ce. His cheeks were flushed now—adorably so—his usual calm and princely demeanor replaced by a fragile beauty that invited further mischief.
But Li Zhang clearly failed to grasp her humor. In his eyes, Ye Jiao was simply guzzling wine and feasting with abandon, eyes locked brazenly on the prince opposite her, a mischievous gleam flickering within them—she was nearly drooling.
Only someone this shameless, he thought, could be so boldly rewarded with an official title.
Li Zhang stepped slowly before her, his tone mild:"Did the Marquess of Wu drop this?"
Ye Jiao looked down to find his palm open, revealing a golden hairpin set with a radiant Eastern pearl.
The design was simple, but the pearl was exquisite—pink, perfectly round, flawless, and large as a fingertip. In the brilliance of the Linde Hall, it shimmered with fullness and luster.
If she wasn't mistaken, it was hers. Perhaps it had fallen during the martial performance, somehow ending up in the Prince of Jin's hands.
But Ye Jiao told a lie.
"No," she replied, dabbing the corner of her lips with a handkerchief. Withdrew the playful look she had reserved for Li Ce, and, glancing at the pearl, shook her head gently. "Perhaps it belongs to one of the princesses. Your Highness may inquire further."
To return the hairpin in person—surely this was a gesture of goodwill.
Yet after the scandal involving Censor-in-Chief Baili Xi, Ye Jiao had grown wary.
To speak with the Prince of Jin in public here in Linde Hall, to accept something from his hand—one could only imagine what others might think.
Countless eyes were watching. She could not risk drawing suspicion from the ministers or the Emperor, couldn't afford to make it seem like she and the Prince of Jin were conspiring.
Even if Li Zhang did not mind, Ye Jiao could not.
She only wished to be with Li Ce. They had agreed—simply, quietly—to be a carefree prince and his gentle consort.
She would rather lose the hairpin.
"Is that so?" A faintly doubtful smile curved at the corners of Li Zhang's eyes. He put the hairpin away and said apologetically, "I was presumptuous."
"No harm done," Ye Jiao murmured, lowering her head to pour more wine—her silence marking the end of their exchange.
Li Zhang showed no sign of embarrassment. He stepped aside and struck up conversation with the princesses seated nearby.
To others, it appeared he had merely greeted Ye Jiao first in passing.
Relieved, Ye Jiao looked up again.
Li Ce's blush had faded.
He sat straight behind the table while the other princes joked and mimicked her earlier martial moves. Yet he remained still, his eyes fixed intently on her, filled with concern and tension.
One hand pressed against the floor, as though ready to leap up and rush to her side.
Was Li Zhang's simple approach enough to frighten him like this?
A warmth bloomed in Ye Jiao's chest. She raised her glass of colored glass high and offered a silent toast to the one who understood her.
"I'm alright," she gestured with the tilt of her cup.
"Ah! Look at this!" Before Li Ce could react, Li Jing had already raised his own cup and stood.
"Is the Marquess of Wu toasting this prince? Come, let us drink until we can drink no more!"
He threw his head back and drank, radiating smug delight.
The music began. Dancers entered with graceful steps, ribbons fluttering in dazzling arcs.
That night in Linde Hall, wine flowed, laughter rang, and joy filled the air.
As the feast neared its end, Ye Jiao encountered Li Jing in the plaza before the hall.
"That's what you get for not betting on me," she teased, hands behind her back. "Lost your silver, didn't you?"
"The silver didn't vanish," Li Jing chuckled as he craned his neck toward the hall. "It merely traveled from my pouch into someone else's."
Though he lost the wager, it seemed he still wished for Tang's victory.
"What of Father's sword?" He leaned in. "Let me have a look—the gemstones alone are worth a fortune. Perhaps we could pry one off…"
His voice trailed off—he knew his words bordered on treason.
"The eunuchs took it," Ye Jiao replied. "What are you peering at in the hall?"
"Second Brother. We haven't spoken yet tonight."
Li Jing glanced again, seeing Li Zhang surrounded by ministers, clearly unable to get away.
With a regretful sigh, he said, "I'll be off. My princess is waiting. But remember this…"
He scanned the crowd until he found Li Ce, then grinned, arms crossed as if cradling a child.
"By next year, I'll have a little one of my own," he declared, smiling as if he'd won the greatest prize.
"Pay him no mind," Li Ce said, striding up quickly. Understanding his brother's implication, he comforted Ye Jiao. "He won't get a single one."
Ye Jiao stifled a laugh and lowered her arms, just as Li Ce's slender fingers brushed against her palm.
"Sisi…" she leaned in playfully, resting her chin on his arm and whispering under the veil of night, "You've given yourself to me, haven't you?"
Li Ce flushed again, yet he was not frightened by her boldness.
He gently spread his fingers and wrapped her soft hand in his own, lowering his voice to murmur beside her ear:
"So greedy, my Jiao Jiao. Do you want me tonight, or shall we wait for an auspicious day?"
Ye Jiao blushed furiously, broke free, and shoved him away before fleeing like a startled deer.
Li Ce watched her retreating figure, smiling with tender affection.
But a voice halted his steps.
"My congratulations, Prince Chu—on finding your lady."
Li Zhang strode forward and stopped beside him, eyes fixed on where Ye Jiao had disappeared.
Li Ce lowered his sleeves and nodded curtly. His tone was calm and devoid of emotion:
"Since Brother knows of my feelings for Miss Ye, I ask only one favor. Should you ever find anything of hers again, please entrust it to me."
Polite, yet distant.
So he had seen her drop the hairpin, too.
The brothers stood in silence.
Around them, courtiers left the hall, exchanging laughter and greetings with familiar warmth.
Yet the two who should have been the closest seemed divided by an invisible wall—cold, aloof, estranged.
At length, Li Zhang spoke.
"I will not interfere with your marriage." His fingers curled within his sleeves. "But there is something I wish to say."
"I am listening, Brother."
"I left the capital for the northern frontier to defend the realm, and to earn merit upon which to build a foundation in court. Though the former Commander of the Imperial Guard, Yan Jide, is kin to me, I knew nothing of his deeds."
Before Li Zhang was made a prince, Yan had married his daughter into Li Zhang's household. Once he was titled, the Yan girl became his concubine.
And as for Yan Jide's deeds?
He had set fire to the palace in a bid for power, only to be discovered by Li Ce's mother. Her warnings had driven her into madness.
Li Zhang might not have known—but after the incident, he and the Empress had conspired to conceal the truth and help Yan Jide rise in rank.
To this day, the Emperor remained unaware of the real reason Consort Shun had gone mad.
Everyone believed Yan had falsely accused Li Ce of treason and attempted to bury him alive in a mountain explosion, only for Ye Jiao and Ye Chang Geng to rescue him by chance.
But Li Ce knew better.
Even if Yan hadn't lured him into the mountain, he would have gone of his own accord. His guards had already disguised themselves as hunters, lying in wait for the trap to be sprung.
He had gambled everything to avenge his mother.
Who fell into whose trap? Yan Jide must have realized it by now.
Li Ce's expression did not change. He exhaled lightly and said,
"Brother was stationed far from the capital. How could you have known what he did?"
But you were in the capital when Consort Shun went mad. You knew. And yet, you chose silence—and helped him rise.