The Eastern Palace.
Incense smoke curled lazily in the air. The bed, carved from jade and inlaid with ivory, was draped with exquisite quilts and covers, a picture of utter luxury.
The Crown Prince lay propped against the pillows, his face pale, his handsome features lacking color in his lips.
The Empress hovered nearby, fussing over him, while the Emperor sat beside them. Attendants and eunuchs knelt in rows across the hall.
A commotion sounded at the entrance.
"Fourth Prince."
A tall, slender figure strode in. Dragons seemed to writhe on the black robes of his attire, as if about to surge into the sea with every step.
As he drew closer, his face struck one to the core. A single mole beneath his eye added a touch of alluring beauty to his snow-white complexion.
She approached the Emperor and bowed. Even this simple gesture was rendered exceptionally graceful and pleasing to the eye by her.
The Emperor, though nearing forty, still looked remarkably young. His gaze was sharp, exuding an inherent authority that needed no outward display.
"Fourth, the Crown Prince is your elder brother. Your roughhousing must have limits. If anything were to happen to the Crown Prince, could you bear the responsibility?"
The Emperor spoke casually, his tone seemingly stern, but in reality, it was a gentle reprimand meant to be seen rather than truly punished. It was a show for the Crown Prince, devoid of any substantial penalty.
Shen Yue was no fool; she was adept at reading the room. Without offering further explanation or excuse, she admitted fault directly. "Father, this son admits his wrongdoing."
She lowered her head slightly. Her features were as captivating as smudged kohl, her gaze downcast, the tear mole a flush of red. She presented an image of fragility.
The Emperor, as expected, was swayed by this display. He uttered a few perfunctory words and let the matter pass without further consequence.
Before taking her leave, Shen Yue turned, lifting her gaze. The corners of her eyes slanted upwards as she cast a faint glance at the Crown Prince lying on the bed.
A semblance of a smile touched her lips.
It was a smile laced with mockery and disdain.
The Crown Prince's expression remained unchanged, but his fingers, hidden beneath the covers, clenched into tight fists, nails digging into his flesh.
***
The young eunuch, Fu An, stood guard by the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when Shen Yue emerged unharmed, then hurried to follow her.
Once outside the Eastern Palace, the youth could no longer maintain their composure. Their face was cold, their brows sharp and severe. The exposed skin was as delicate and fair as fresh milk, gleaming in the sunlight.
Although the Emperor had not spoken too harshly within the Eastern Palace, it was still a humiliation for the proud Shen Yue, especially with the Crown Prince watching like a spectator. She had no choice but to swallow her pride.
Fu An, who had been with Shen Yue since childhood, guessed the situation from their demeanor. He stepped closer. "Your Highness, a moment of impatience can ruin a grand plan."
Shen Yue lowered her long lashes, her voice luxurious and icy. "I understand."
As they passed the Imperial Garden, Shen Yue heard clear laughter from a distance.
Upon approaching, she took in the scene.
A tall youth, with a black cloth tied over his eyes and a golden coronet on his head, his waist cinched with a jade belt. His handsome features remained as refined as ever, his hands fumbling about.
Eunuchs and maids fluttered around him, trying to evade his reach.
"Chun Yu, I see you! Stop hiding!"
His voice and tone carried a childish innocence unsuited for his age.
His ears twitched slightly, keenly listening to the sounds around him.
Suddenly, he heard approaching footsteps and his heart leaped. He lunged forward, firmly wrapping his arms around the slender waist of the person he’d detected. The warm fragrance that wafted towards him was intoxicating.
"I caught you!"
Shen Yao Jin exclaimed with delight. The person in his embrace was soft and fragrant. He found himself reluctant to let go, hugging them even tighter.
The eunuchs nearby gasped, their souls nearly fleeing their bodies. "Seventh, Seventh Highness, quickly, let go."
The idiotic Seventh Prince, oblivious to any impropriety, continued to hold on. He even nudged his head forward to nuzzle, but the next moment, the person before him suddenly shoved him away violently. Caught completely off guard, he lost his balance and crashed to the ground with a thud.
A sharp pain shot through his palms and backside. Shen Yao Jin, slow to react, tore off the black cloth from his face and began to cry. Big, round tears streamed from his eyes, falling to the ground like pearls from a broken string.
"Bad person!"
"Bad person!"
"Bad person, you bully me, wuwuwu!"
Seeing this, the others tried to comfort the Seventh Prince crying on the ground. But the Fourth Prince stood there, exuding an oppressive and suffocating aura.
The Fourth Prince stood with his hands behind his back, his expression cold and defiant, the lines of strength etched deeply between his brows.
Sobbing breathlessly, the fool seemed to sense the danger. His eyes, swollen from crying, looked up at the towering figure with a pout.
His eyelashes drooped languidly. His skin was a cool, pale white, but his lips were as vividly colored as if stained with rouge. His dark eyes gazed at him coldly, as if looking at mud on the ground.
She slowly crouched down. Their gazes met. Shen Yao Jin looked at her with a bewildered innocence, his tears finally ceasing.
"What did you just call me?"
Her expression was placid, her voice soft.
She raised a hand, long and slender, her bones exquisitely formed. Her fingertips were tinged pink, like tender flower buds. The faint blue veins beneath her skin hinted at a fragile beauty.
Yet, it was with these fingers, which seemed as if they could break with a single touch, that she seized his neck, her grip imbued with danger and coldness.
Though a simpleton, Shen Yao Jin recognized the person before him as his brother. Now with his neck in a vice-like grip, he blinked timidly. Tears still clung to his eyelashes, about to fall but not quite, making him look utterly pitiable.
Clearly adept at reading the situation, he quickly tried to appease her. "Imperial Brother, Yao Jin hurts."
The youth did not loosen their grip; instead, they tightened their fingers. Shen Yao Jin's breathing gradually grew difficult, his face turning red. He reached up to pry away the fingers around his neck, but to no avail.
Watching Shen Yao Jin struggle ineffectually with a look of amusement, she released him only when his face turned purple.
He greedily gulped in fresh air, a searing pain echoing in his throat. Shen Yao Jin's eyes were filled with tears brought on by physical pain. Seemingly hurt, he hugged himself in distress, tears and snot streaking his face. He trembled uncontrollably.
Shen Yue stood up with a look of disdain. Fu An stepped forward and carefully took a clean silk handkerchief to wipe her long, white fingers, meticulously attending to every corner. Once clean, he folded the handkerchief and tucked it away in his sleeve.
Shen Yao Jin, still seated on the ground, whimpered, his occasional sobs transforming into continuous, soft crying. As if fearing the youth would strike again, he bit his own hand, attempting to stifle his sobs.
His innocent eyes, pure as a child's, were filled with fear and dread.
Even favored by the Emperor, what good was it? It only led to more ostracism and bullying. In the imperial palace, those without the ability to protect themselves or a reliable backing were merely trampled upon.
Having vented the pent-up frustration in her heart, Shen Yue's expression returned to its impassive state. Perhaps the sight of Shen Yao Jin on the ground was too pathetic, as a slight smile touched her lips. Tears flowed, but her eyes remained cold.
"Get up."