"Hmm," Mu Qingyao nodded, slowly sitting down. The vantage point offered a clear view of the street scene below, and even the happenings within the establishment were within her sight.
"Third Miss, the usual, as always?" the waiter asked obsequiously, taking the towel from his shoulder and wiping the table again and again. Though the table was already clean, he seemed to fear that this place might somehow stain the heavenly beauty before him.
"Alright, bring a pot of good tea and prepare a few varieties of exquisite pastries."
"Yes, I'll go prepare them right away." The waiter retreated to make preparations. Mu Qingyao casually surveyed the interior decor of the establishment. The first floor was simple in its color scheme, predominantly dark. The tables, chairs, counter, and shelves were all lacquered in brown, presenting an aura of understated elegance at first glance. Yet, midway up, between the first and second floors, numerous green vines and leaves were used as decoration, lending the tea house a vibrant, verdant feel.
Mu Qingyao shifted her gaze and noticed Mei Xin and Lu'er standing to the side. She calmly instructed the two maids. "Sit down, both of you. You must be tired. We'll eat something together later."
"Miss, we?" Lu'er began, as if a mere maid could not dine with her mistress. However, Mei Xin preempted her, pulling her down to sit. She had already come to understand her mistress's disposition: what she said was not to be resisted or questioned, lest they bring trouble upon themselves.
"Yes, Miss."
As the two maids had just settled down, the waiter approached with a tray laden with a pot of fine tea and the establishment's signature pastries: premium pickled mustard greens, osmanthus and date paste cake, and double-colored water chestnut cake. The waiter placed everything on the table and said respectfully, "Please enjoy, Third Miss. If you need anything, just call for me."
"Go," Mu Qingyao's voice carried a clear, detached tone that brooked no disagreement. Once the waiter had withdrawn, Mei Xin delicately poured tea for Mu Qingyao. The two maids also joined her for tea and pastries, finding the moment quite peaceful.
However, after just a sip of tea, a luxurious carriage arrived in front of Ming Feng Tower. Its walls were fashioned from embroidered brocade, its four corners adorned with fist-sized cat's-eye stones, and gold thread tassels hung from it, shimmering dazzlingly in the sunlight. As soon as the carriage stopped, two agile subordinates leaped from the driver's seat. Dressed in black robes, they glanced up at Ming Feng Tower, respectfully lifted the curtain, and announced, "Master, we have arrived."
No sooner had his words fallen than a tall, elegant man alighted from the carriage. Sunlight fell upon his face, revealing not a single flaw. His skin was crystal clear and fair. His brows were sharp and cold as if chiseled from frost, and his eyes, like peach blossoms, were long and shapely. His nose was prominent and high, and his lips were not thin and cold, but possessed a sensual fullness. His raven hair was tied up with a golden hairpin, exuding an air of noble opulence. Though this man was beautiful, he was also exceptionally cold. His gaze seemed to freeze the very air, emanating a chill from his bones, even in the sweltering summer heat. As he stood in the hall, everyone felt a prickling chill, daring not to breathe, and quickly lowered their heads to drink tea, too afraid to even glance at him.
The moment Mu Qingyao saw him, a tremor arose in her heart, seemingly a primal reaction from her previous existence. It was as if she had been struck to death by this man. This person was none other than Prince Nan'an of the Xuanyue Kingdom, Murong Liuzhao, a man who always regarded women as inconsequential, known for his low profile and aloof demeanor.
"Your Highness, the master is waiting upstairs?" The speaker was Chu Qianyi's subordinate, a fellow named Jin, who respectfully invited Prince Nan'an upstairs. The group began to ascend, and as they reached the staircase, Murong Liuzhao abruptly stopped, turned, and looked towards a corner of the main hall. It seemed someone had been appraising him. It turned out to be a woman, clad in white, drinking tea as if nothing were amiss, gazing out at the streetscape. Who was she? He was certain she had been looking at him, though only for a fleeting moment. Yet, in that instant, he had captured her distinctive sharpness, her disdain. Yes, disdain, so palpable even across the distance that he could feel her contempt. How dare a woman... Murong Liuzhao's gaze deepened, his aura of coldness intensifying. Jin and the two men following him looked at him tensely and spoke cautiously.
"Your Highness?"
"Let's go up," a cool, unperturbed voice rang out, and the group proceeded to the second floor. Only after they had disappeared up the stairs did the hall begin to buzz with renewed activity, people resuming their tea drinking and conversations. Just moments before, Mei Xin and Lu'er had been so nervous their palms were sweaty, their fingernails digging into their flesh. Prince Nan'an had actually looked their way. Fortunately, their mistress had been looking out the window. What if he had recognized her? The thought sent a fresh wave of worry through Mei Xin.
"Miss, we've had our tea and pastries. Let's return to the manor."
"Yes, Miss, you must be tired. Let's go back," Lu'er chimed in, hoping their mistress would agree to leave. They had been terrified their mistress might have approached and pestered Prince Nan'an again. Fortunately, she hadn't.
"Hmm?" Mu Qingyao turned, looking at the two maids with surprise. Their faces were pale, their speech slightly stammering. She even saw their lips trembling. What was wrong?
In a private room on the second floor, the door was pushed open, and Murong Liuzhao's figure appeared. The three men already seated stirred. Two of them immediately stood up, vacating their seats. The standing men were the son of the Minister of War and the son of the Prefect. Where else would they have seats in the presence of His Highness? Murong Liuzhao cast a sideways glance at the captivating man by the window, his long, narrow eyebrows arching coldly. He spoke in a deep voice. "Yi, what new game are you playing?"
Chu Qianyi's dark pupils flickered with sparks of fire, and the corners of his lips curved into a playful smile. "When there's something good, how can I forget you?"
"Speak?" His concise command was befitting a cold prince, his words never wasted. His handsome features were etched with a thunderous rage on the verge of erupting. Chu Qianyi, his childhood companion, was already accustomed to this. This fellow always wore a cold expression, his arrogance seemingly positioned above others, but inwardly, it was just that. However, Li Yutang, the son of the Minister of War, and Zhang Hanshan, the son of the Prefect, were so intimidated that their legs trembled, and they dared not breathe.
Chu Qianyi sighed softly and nudged his lips with his chin. "Your Highness, you've frightened them. That's no fun." Murong Liuzhao then noticed the two pale individuals beside him, their eyes filled with apprehension as they looked at him. He raised his brows displeasedly, his expression growing colder. Was he that terrifying? Were these two fellows so easily frightened, and still called themselves men?