Chapter Ten: Swift Escape to a Better World

Dark lines seemed to streak behind Feng Xiaoli’s head, as if she had no desire to acknowledge anyone at all. Before long, the young servant who had slipped away unnoticed earlier returned, bringing with him a woman. This woman possessed fine features; though no longer in the first bloom of youth, she still carried an undeniable charm. Clearly experienced in the ways of the world, she had pieced together what had happened from the servant’s few words. In places like this, disputes invariably stemmed from women or from wounded pride.

Yu Wenhao and Yu Wenche were frequently seen in Huaijing, so the madam of the house recognized them at once. One was the crown prince, the other a royal son—both basking in untold wealth and privilege. Only pride could set men like them at odds.

With a face full of ingratiating smiles that made Feng Xiaoli feel ill, the madam approached Yu Wenhao and said, “Your Highness, Crown Prince; Your Highness, Second Prince; Miss Li; Miss Qi; Miss Mi, welcome. Your presence brings honor to Phoenix Pavilion. However, the private room on the second floor is rather small and cannot accommodate so many guests. Might you follow Meiniang to another, more suitable room?” With that, Meiniang gestured invitingly.

She had not specified who was to leave, leaving the question hanging in the air. Feng Xiaoli, whose gaze had been fixed on the gentlemen at the opposite table, now glanced at Meiniang, her eyes as clear and cold as meltwater from a glacier. Meiniang had not expected such a direct look; meeting those pure, icy eyes, she broke into a genuine smile, quite unlike her earlier fawning expression.

Feng Xiaoli gently tugged Yu Wenche with one hand and Jin Ning with the other, strolling out at her own pace. She thought to herself that outings were best kept small—at least then she wouldn’t need a third hand to shepherd anyone else away.

As she left, she could still hear the man from across the room inviting her to join him, but she tuned him out entirely. Yu Wenche asked, “A’Li, who was that? Do you know him?”

Feng Xiaoli shook her head with a smile. She truly didn’t know the man. She recalled the previous night, when a black-clad assailant had pursued him, and though he seemed to wear a frivolous smile, he struck her as a vortex, a dark and unfathomable enigma. Her instincts warned her to stay away.

The young servant who had brought Meiniang now led Feng Xiaoli toward another private room, one that had just been vacated. She couldn’t help but feel Meiniang had gone out of her way for them; clearing a room so quickly was no small feat.

Yu Wenche finally couldn’t help himself and asked, “A’Li, is this really all right?” He had meant to ask why they were giving up their room when they had arrived first. Money meant little to him—what mattered was pride. His elder brother, the crown prince, had overshadowed him for years, so he naturally felt aggrieved, especially now.

Feng Xiaoli rapped him lightly on the head, a hint of mockery in her tone. “No wonder Emperor Lingtian chose Yu Wenche as prince instead of you!”

That was a sore spot for Yu Wenche. He knew it was true, but hearing Feng Xiaoli say it still stung. She didn’t seem to think she’d said anything wrong, nor did she look at him. As they left, she released their arms, and now walked side by side with Yu Wenche, Jin Ning following. If she turned her head, she would see Yu Wenche’s wounded expression—but she didn’t.

Before long, Yu Wenche had composed himself, his smile returning as he repeated his earlier question, as though her words had never hurt him and she had never said them at all.

She grinned mischievously. “A’Che, if we hadn’t left, we’d be the ones humiliated!”

Back in the private room, Yu Wenhao and Mu Xinmi exchanged a glance and a knowing smile as they prepared to leave. They hadn’t expected Mu Xinqi, ever the fool, to plop herself down on a stool, pour herself a full cup of untouched tea, and begin drinking as if nothing had happened.

Seeing this, Yu Wenhao and Mu Xinmi frowned and were about to speak when Mu Xinqi suddenly burst out, “Sister, Crown Prince, why don’t you come sit? Those harbingers of doom are gone, this room is ours now!” She sneered, “Hmph, the second prince is nothing but your defeated rival, Crown Prince. How dare he covet the throne, considering what little worth he has? He must be mad. And as for that little wretch, Feng Xiaoli, she’s a pheasant trying to pass herself off as a phoenix—doesn’t she fear making a fool of herself?” Mu Xinqi’s tongue lashed out, cursing Yu Wenche and Feng Xiaoli roundly. Yu Wenhao and Mu Xinmi were used to her outbursts, but Meiniang was still present.

After rattling off her tirade, Mu Xinqi drank another cup of tea, then complained, “Of course the tea reflects the company. Meiniang, bring me the best—Green Sea Snail Spring. Of all my visits, that’s still my favorite.”

Meiniang’s smile deepened. She instructed another servant to serve Miss Qi’s preferred tea.

“Xin—” Yu Wenhao began, but Meiniang interrupted him.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince; Miss Mi; Miss Qi, please follow Meiniang to another room,” she said, her smile sweet and flawless, leaving no room for reproach.

“What are you saying?” Mu Xinqi shot to her feet with a smack, spilling tea everywhere. “The second prince and that little wretch have already left—this room is ours! Why should we go?” Oblivious to the mess, she remained defiant.

Meiniang seemed not to hear her outburst, her expression unchanged. “Miss Qi, perhaps you misunderstood me. Meiniang was inviting the crown prince and the second prince to another room, not this one. You see, the second prince and Miss Li have already left, so now it’s your turn. Surely one as clever as Miss Qi can understand my meaning.”

Yet Mu Xinqi remained seated, acting as if she owned the place, forcing Meiniang to point out the obvious—implying Mu Xinqi was hopelessly obtuse.

“Meiniang, your words are so hard to grasp; no wonder Xinqi, in her innocence, can’t understand,” Yu Wenhao said, forcibly pulling Mu Xinqi to her feet with such force that her wrist would surely bruise.

“And to think the crown prince can’t even comprehend such a simple meaning!” Meiniang’s smile turned cold, laced with irony. Even Mu Xinqi felt the sting—was she not saying that, apart from Meiniang, everyone here was a fool? Yu Wenche and Mu Xinmi knew it wasn’t so; they’d stayed only because of Mu Xinqi, and Meiniang’s mockery was the natural result of their delay.

Yu Wenche shot a fierce glare at Meiniang, but she simply turned her back. Standing on the stairs, she smiled at the startled patrons below. “Forgive us for making a spectacle of ourselves.”

In the now-quiet hall, a few scattered voices could be heard. Yu Wenhao cursed inwardly; their conversation had likely been overheard.