Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Weiqing Song watched Zhiyu Jiang stand at the center of the stage.
Even a veil could not conceal her unearthly bearing or the purity in her eyes.
Did Shengsheng truly believe he would fail to recognize Zhiyu simply because she covered her face?
He was not the only one. Fusheng Duan and Siran Ming turned their attention toward the stage at once.
Wherever Zhiyu appeared, traces of Shengsheng’s mischief were never far away.
The guests stopped what they were doing. Though they could not see the woman’s face, every one of them sensed that she possessed peerless beauty.
Would she dance?
Play the pipa?
Sing, perhaps, or perform on the zither?
Each person imagined a talent worthy of the fairy-like woman before them.
Then a voice as lovely as heavenly music reached their ears.
“This common woman will perform a talent for everyone tonight.”
Ah. Even her voice sounded ethereal.
“The performance is called–”
It was called?
The guests leaned forward unconsciously, eyes bright with anticipation.
“Heaven’s Thunderbolt!”
The declaration rang powerfully across the stage.
The guests, whose hands were already poised to applaud, froze.
For the first time in the long history of lively Spring Banquets, the entire gathering fell utterly silent.
Fusheng propped his elbow on the table and covered his forehead. His shoulders shook without pause.
Siran had already witnessed Zhiyu’s unusual talent. He calmly took a sip of wine.
Seeing that neither man looked surprised, Weiqing also maintained perfect composure.
Inside, however, he was staring in horror.
Xunlan Liu recovered first.
“Insolence! You dare present a performance with such an ominous name at the Spring Banquet? What are your intentions?”
Shengsheng had anticipated that the bastard emperor Xunlan would say exactly that.
Zhiyu bowed without the slightest panic.
“Your Majesty, Heaven’s Thunderbolt is an auspicious sign. It means every evil will be shattered, the dark clouds will retreat, and light will return to the world.”
Utter nonsense.
That was Xunlan’s only thought.
Old men tended to enjoy superstition. Lianmin Song chuckled.
“Interesting. You may begin.”
Xunlan had nothing to say.
The old man could spout nonsense too.
To preserve the integrity of the performance, Shengsheng had specifically instructed Zhiyu not to speak her oath aloud.
Zhiyu casually swore one inside her mind.
Outwardly, she did not forget to put on a show. She formed one of the Nine-Character Mantra hand seals Shengsheng had taught her.
The guests clearly felt the formerly still air begin to stir.
Fallen leaves swirled across the ground. Dark clouds slowly covered the moon.
A bolt of lightning crashed down without warning.
The terrified guests clutched their heads.
Xunlan was badly frightened as well and plainly wanted to duck. When he saw Siran, Weiqing, and even his own beloved consort sitting perfectly still, he forced down the terror prickling across his scalp and pretended to remain calm.
At a moment like this, he absolutely could not lose in bearing.
After the thunder faded, the guests recovered.
They looked toward Zhiyu as though gazing upon an immortal.
But the immortal had vanished.
The stage stood empty.
Had she truly been a celestial maiden sent down by Heaven?
Someone looked up at the now-clear sky and murmured the question.
Afterward, countless poets spilled ink across pages to record that miraculous moment.
For years to come, every Spring Banquet reminded someone of that night.
Even a lowly servant who had witnessed it possessed enough material to boast for the rest of his life.
“You have children?”
“I witnessed a miracle.”
“You are surrounded by descendants?”
“I witnessed a miracle.”
“Your grandson just died?”
“I witnessed a miracle.”
Whether the man eventually received the beating he deserved was a story for another day.
The three men who knew the “divine maiden’s” true identity were naturally even more impressed by the true culprit behind the spectacle: Shengsheng Zhou.
“That was incredible!”
Certain no one could hear, Shengsheng shouted with heroic satisfaction.
Then something furry tickled her cheek.
The white bird on her shoulder had puffed into a ball.
Shengsheng stroked his raised feathers.
Flat. Puff.
Flat. Puff.
Flat. Puff.
She played with endless delight.
“Static electricity from that far away? Impressive.”
As a divine bird who served a revered sovereign, the white bird refused to tolerate such an insult. He spread his wings and flew off at once.
Shengsheng shook her head as she watched him go.
That bird was not friendship material.
With Zhiyu’s performance complete, Shengsheng had no reason to remain.
Besides, the stone was digging into her backside.
As she climbed down, the two guards hidden in the bamboo grove nearly suffered heart failure. Each feared she would slip and injure herself.
After that night, neither would ever again praise Shengsheng for possessing a gentle temperament or dignified conduct.
Shengsheng had no idea that the persona she had worked so hard to preserve had quietly collapsed.
***
By the time Shengsheng returned to the Eastern Palace, Zhiyu had already changed clothes.
She ran over, wrapped her arms around Shengsheng, and beamed.
“Did I do well?”
With a tail behind her, she would have looked exactly like an eager puppy.
Shengsheng stroked her head and praised her sincerely.
“You did wonderfully.”
Zhiyu could kill and act. She was truly useful in any situation.
It was a pity she had not changed her name to Zhiyu Thunder.
Zhiyu had rendered great service that day, so Shengsheng prepared a delicious meal for her and coaxed her to sleep.
Using the leftover ingredients, she then threw together a pot of soup.
Afterward, she stood before the bronze mirror and spread a delicate layer of powder over her face. Soon she looked exactly like a servant who had lost her master’s favor and now bitterly regretted her mistakes.
Excellent.
With her new appearance complete, Shengsheng carried the food box toward Weiqing’s study.
He always read storybooks there before bed. At this hour, he should have returned.
Before entering, she adjusted her clothes once more. Only after confirming everything was flawless did she knock and push open the door.
A young woman with downcast eyes and a face full of sorrow entered carrying a food box.
She took one step and stopped.
Three robes of different colors occupied the room ahead.
Shengsheng silently stepped backward.
“My apologies. Wrong room.”
She slammed the door with lightning speed.
The three men inside were silent.
“Come back.”
A clear male voice crossed the door.
Three seconds later, the young woman who had fled returned with cramped, reluctant steps.
*The Feast at Hong Gate…*
That was her only thought.
Staring at the three wretched men before her, Shengsheng sighed inwardly.
“This servant greets Your Majesty, Your Highness, and the Noble Consort.”
*Ordered perfectly by rank. Praise me.*
Fusheng Duan’s lips curved.
“What are you carrying?”
Shengsheng answered obediently, “Your Grace, it is a late-night meal prepared for the Crown Prince.”
The smile already on Weiqing’s face gained genuine warmth.
Siran Ming gave a cold snort.
Did he not know Shengsheng?
She had unquestionably tossed Zhiyu’s leftovers into a bowl and brought them over to fob Weiqing off.
What a fool Weiqing was.
“Your timing is excellent,” Weiqing said gently. “We were discussing who you belong to.”
Shengsheng stared at him.
The inevitable had finally arrived.