Chapter Eight

Before long, three elegant young gentlemen appeared before the Phoenix Pavilion. Two among them were actually Feng Xiaoli and Jin Ning in disguise; Feng Xiaoli had finally relented to Jin Ning’s insistence and exchanged her feminine attire for men’s clothes.

Jin Ning, overwhelmed by the colorful women present, was frightened and stammered, “Miss, are we really going to such a place? If the Prince finds out, then—”

Feng Xiaoli smiled at her words. “I trust your cleverness, Jin Ning. Surely you’ve already informed the old man before I left, haven’t you?”

Jin Ning belonged to the old man’s household—whatever Feng Xiaoli did would never be hidden from her. Besides, she was still, in name, the old man’s daughter, the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Chun, and his only child. She wouldn’t be so easily ruined.

Jin Ning’s eyes flickered at Feng Xiaoli’s remark, as if her secret had been uncovered.

“Enough of this nonsense!” said Yuwen Che, unable to contain his excitement. “My curiosity is piqued, Ah Li, come with me! I’ve already reserved a private seat upstairs—the best on the second floor. No one will disturb us there!” With that, he strode inside, eager for his rendezvous with the beauty.

Feng Xiaoli followed closely behind Yuwen Che, and Jin Ning stamped her foot and hurried after them.

Inside, the Phoenix Pavilion was more bustling than ever. Many had gathered simply to catch a glimpse of the famed courtesan. Apart from her madam, no one had ever seen her face. It was said that a year ago, she had stunned all of Huaijing with a single dance, a single song, and a single melody. From the elderly to young children, everyone knew of the Phoenix Pavilion’s courtesan, simply called “Flower Pei.” Yet, to everyone’s disappointment, she had always worn a veil, never revealing her features, and vanished without a trace after each performance, as if she had never existed.

Now, after her disappearance a year ago, Flower Pei had returned to the Phoenix Pavilion, stirring excitement in all corners. Officials, wealthy young masters, and commoners alike crowded into the Pavilion. Yuwen Che had struggled to secure the finest private seat on the second floor.

The Phoenix Pavilion had four floors; the first was a grand hall, usually the only area open to guests. However, if one could afford it, a private seat on the second floor could be reserved. The third and fourth floors were shrouded in mystery—rumored to contain labyrinths on the third, while the fourth was even more enigmatic. Most mysterious of all, no one knew the true owner behind the Pavilion.

By now, Feng Xiaoli and her companions had settled into their private seat on the second floor, facing the window and the stage, with an unobstructed view of the hall below. Feng Xiaoli intended Jin Ning to sit with them, but Jin Ning refused, so she let her stand at her side.

Yuwen Che looked at Jin Ning. “Jin Ning, you needn’t look at me like that. I would never harm your mistress. To me, Ah Li is like a sister. In the palace, the Crown Prince and I are the only sons, with no sisters at all. I truly cherish Ah Li as one.”

“It’s not that, I—” Jin Ning stammered.

Feng Xiaoli found it odd—Yuwen Che seemed quite concerned about Jin Ning. Could there be something more?

Seeing Jin Ning flustered and unable to explain, Feng Xiaoli teased, “Ah Yuan, don’t bully my maid. Anyone who dares bully her, even my brother, won’t get off lightly!” Not that he was truly her brother.

“Haha!” Yuwen Che laughed, patting Feng Xiaoli’s head. “Don’t worry, I’d never bully your maid. Isn’t that right, Jin Ning? Of course, Ah Li, you’re more important to me.”

Jin Ning fell silent, merely nodding. Feng Xiaoli smiled faintly at the two and turned her gaze to the hall below.

All seats on the first floor were taken; those unable to find a seat stood, yet their expressions showed no annoyance—on the contrary, they were delighted.

Who would have thought that a woman named Flower Pei could command such fame?

Feng Xiaoli propped her chin, lost in thought.

“Move aside, move aside! This private seat always belongs to the Crown Prince. What are you idiots thinking, letting strangers in? You must be courting death! Get out of my way—can’t you see the Crown Prince and I are coming in?” A woman's voice rang out from outside, brash and domineering, flaunting her status. The Crown Prince was here? So he was curious about Flower Pei, too.

“Miss Qi, apologies, I’ll open another private seat for you at once!” The attendant tried to please her.

“I refuse! I want this seat—out, get out!” The woman was relentless, giving the attendant no quarter.

Hmph, who was the attendant compared to her?

“Miss, the newcomers are the second Miss of the Marquis Liao’s household, Mu Qi, and the Crown Prince,” Jin Ning murmured.

Yuwen Che and Feng Xiaoli glanced at her simultaneously.

With a creak, the door swung open.

The door had been kicked open by the woman. Feng Xiaoli saw a delicate face, adorned in sumptuous attire—a beauty, though her arrogance diminished her allure.

Following Mu Xin Qi was the Crown Prince. At first glance, Feng Xiaoli thought him handsome but aloof, rarely smiling. Yet now, his eyes showed a trace of gentleness. Behind him walked another woman, whose beauty eclipsed even Mu Xin Qi. Gentle and frail, she stood in stark contrast to Mu Xin Qi, captivating at first sight. If Feng Xiaoli were a man, she would be entranced as well—alas, she was a woman herself.

This lady was the eldest Miss of the Marquis Liao’s household, Mu Xin Mi.

The Crown Prince’s attentiveness to her—could they be involved? How interesting! Feng Xiaoli could hardly wait for the drama to unfold.

“Oh, so it’s you, Second Prince. No wonder the attendant dared to give away our private seat—he had someone backing him,” Mu Xin Qi sneered upon seeing Yuwen Che.

Yuwen Che rose and saluted his royal brother, Yuwen Hao.

“How well-mannered the Marquis Liao’s household must be!” Feng Xiaoli emphasized those words, and Yuwen Hao’s face changed instantly, understanding the hidden meaning.

“Qi’er, mind your manners. The Second Prince is present—you must pay your respects!” Yuwen Hao’s voice turned cold. The royal family valued etiquette, and as daughters of high officials, Mu Xin Qi and Mu Xin Mi were expected to uphold it. Though Mu Xin Qi disliked Yuwen Che, etiquette prevailed; she had to bow her head. Mu Xin Mi had already offered a grand salute to Yuwen Che and now stood aside, watching her younger sister.

“And you?” Yuwen Hao turned to Feng Xiaoli, who, throughout, had not paid him any respect, instead sitting calmly and observing.

Feng Xiaoli raised her eyes, meeting Yuwen Hao’s gaze. Where their eyes met, sparks flew—an intense, electric confrontation.