Chapter 19

Jiang Luan was woken from her sleep.

Under the bright candlelight, she covered a yawn with her delicate hand, her dark eyes shimmering with a thin veil of drowsiness.

On a folding stool placed beside the long desk, Pei Xian lifted the hem of his robe and sat down composedly, the long sword hanging at his waist resting across his knees.

On the bamboo mat directly opposite, Xie Lan sat upright on his heels, his face devoid of expression.

"The Ministry of Rites screened the portraits of over a dozen young gentlemen from the noble families in the capital. I instructed Secretary Xie to deliver them to Linfeng Palace this morning for the Princess to choose from. Yet, I heard the Princess suddenly changed her mind?"

Pei Xian spoke with airy indifference. "Secretary Xie did not convey the original conditions you set for selecting a consort. May I ask the Princess to repeat them in person?"

"No need to repeat them." Jiang Luan raised her hand and pointed carelessly at Xie Lan. "Someone like Secretary Xie will do. By the way, the Jiang and Xie clans are set to become closer through marriage—has the Empress given her consent?"

A faint smile touched Pei Xian’s lips. He drew a bright red envelope from his sleeve, leaned forward, and pushed it toward her.

"This was sent over by the head of the Xie family tonight. Such a private matter should not normally be shown to outsiders. However, the Xie family wishes to avoid further complications and specifically instructed me that only the Princess should view this document."

Bailu stepped forward and accepted the red envelope with both hands. Knowing the gravity of the situation, she dared not open it and presented it to Jiang Luan exactly as it was.

Jiang Luan opened it and scanned the contents. "Hmm, a marriage horoscope?"

Pei Xian nodded. "A son of the Xie family and a daughter of the Wang family. The Xie and Wang clans have been secretly considering this union for some time, but as the Six Rites have not yet been formally initiated, it was not appropriate to notify everyone. As for Secretary Xie’s household—"

He gestured toward the impassive Xie Lan. "A few days ago, they took the birth horoscopes of both families to White Horse Temple. They divined the match before the Buddha and found the horoscopes perfectly compatible—a most auspicious omen. In a few days' time, the formal betrothal process should begin."

Jiang Luan closed the horoscope and mused, "A daughter of the Wang family—would that be the granddaughter of Chancellor Wang?"

"Indeed, it is Chancellor Wang’s legitimate granddaughter, the Sixth Miss Wang."

Pei Xian spoke in a calm, soothing tone, "Marriage is a major life event. I hope the Princess will not allow a fleeting joke to delay the auspicious union between the Wang and Xie families."

Jiang Luan reclined languidly, handing the horoscope back. "The Grand Marshal comes over in the middle of the night, not only disturbing my rest but also ruining the consort I had just set my sights on. How does the Grand Marshal intend to compensate me?"

Her words were half-truth and half-jest; no one could tell what exactly this seemingly naive and charming little princess was scheming in her heart.

Pei Xian had no desire to waste energy guessing.

With a clear, dragon-like chime, the sword at his waist left its scabbard.

On the day he was invested as the Marshal of the Hebei Circuit, the Imperial Court had bestowed upon him the honor of "entering the palace with sword and shoes."

The blade he carried into the palace was not the unsharpened decorative piece favored by typical scholars and gentlemen, but a lethal weapon that had been on the battlefield and tasted the blood of enemies.

The three-foot-long blade shimmered with a cold, deep light under the lamps. The expressions of everyone in the hall shifted, and the previously relaxed atmosphere tightened instantly. Even the stiffly sitting Xie Lan glanced over, his eyes flickering with curiosity.

Pei Xian himself began to wipe the blade with a piece of cloth, moving with unhurried deliberation. "The capital has a population of over a million. Every high-ranking family along Vermilion Bird Street has eligible young men. If the Princess takes her time to choose, she will surely find a suitable one."

Jiang Luan squinted at the flowing light on the blade in his hand and clicked her tongue. "Speak properly. Who are you threatening by drawing your sword in the middle of the night?"

"I would not dare to threaten you. I was merely idle and decided to clean my sword." Pei Xian finished wiping the blade with measured care, then tapped the metal with his index finger, producing a long, humming vibration.

When he spoke again, it was as if a sharp blade had been unsheathed, his steady tone carrying a pointed probe. "Secretary Xie’s family is already discussing a marriage and is about to finalize the betrothal with the Wangs, yet I see no trace of grief on your face, Princess. This suggests your 'interest' in Secretary Xie was not sincere. This 'love at first sight'—perhaps you were only taken with his appearance? If you were to see more gentlemen who possess both talent and beauty in the future, might you be even more taken with them?"

Jiang Luan leaned against the head of the couch, resting her chin on her hand, and smiled.

Her features were exquisite, but at an age still growing, her brows and eyes had not yet fully matured, lending a touch of girlish innocence to her beauty.

Yet, as she smiled under the lamp, her dark almond eyes shimmered with ripples of light, and that trace of innocence vanished entirely.

She said leisurely, "Is the Grand Marshal certain that I am not heartbroken?"

Her eyes danced with amusement. Her hand reached beneath the long desk, feeling for a hidden mechanism, and with a click, a rectangular secret compartment sprang open on the side of the desk.

Inside, nestled prominently, was a two-foot-long thin-bladed dagger with a snakeskin sheath.

"It was a personal defensive weapon of the Late Emperor—a pair of male and female swords. I begged for a long time before he bestowed it upon me."

She took the small sword from the compartment and, mimicking Pei Xian, laid it across her knees. "The Grand Marshal confiscated the male sword a few days ago. The female sword remained, hidden in this secret compartment."

Pei Xian’s gaze fell upon the female sword. "You are so fond of hiding weapons in your bedchamber?"

"Life is not secure. One can have their door kicked open in the middle of the night, so I must keep some weapons nearby," Jiang Luan stated candidly.

As she spoke, she affectionately stroked the snakeskin sheath. "Tonight, it was Grand Marshal Pei who kicked in the door, so this sword was not needed. But what if it had been rebels from outside the city who broke in? What if the Empress changed her mind and dragged me to the ancestral temple outside the city in the middle of the night to pray? What if the Emperor suddenly issued an imperial decree in the middle of the night, sending me off to the northern border to marry into the Turkic royal court?"

She flicked open the snakeskin sheath, and the cold light of the blade emerged, the thin edge shimmering like a pool of autumn water under the lamplight.

She raised her hand and lightly drew the blade across the solid wood of the long desk, leaving a deep, thin mark.

Satisfied, she examined the scratch, then raised her left hand, bringing the edge of her mutton-fat jade-colored palm close to the thin blade.

The dangerous action was reflected in the two pairs of eyes opposite her, both of which contracted sharply.

The next moment, Jiang Luan tucked the dagger away with total indifference. "In a moment of crisis, this sword will be useful."

With the snakeskin sheath hiding the blade's edge, she returned the dagger to the compartment and leaned back lazily. "Grand Marshal, look at my expression now. Do I look heartbroken?"

Pei Xian fell silent. He set his teacup back on the low table and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His mind suddenly flashed back to the night a few days ago.

At that time, Empress Xie had been confronting her. She had held a dagger to her own throat, her clothing torn, a thin line of blood seeping out. Everyone else’s faces had been hideous with tension, panic, or anger, but she was the only one who had remained smiling throughout.

Only fifteen years old, yet her thoughts were so unfathomable.

Pei Xian looked deeply at the deep, thin mark on the long desk and the relaxed expression that clashed so sharply with the girlish features opposite him. He changed the subject.

"Secretary Xie’s family is already discussing a marriage; it would be inappropriate for him to become the Princess's consort. I heard that your preferred candidate has changed to someone of at least twenty years of age. What other requirements do you have? Why not list them specifically?"

Jiang Luan covered a yawn and began to tick them off one by one.

"As for a candidate, it would be best if he is in his early twenties and already holds an official position. He should come from a noble family, possess a refined and noble temperament, be steady in character, have extraordinary intellect, and be proficient in both letters and martial arts."

"That is quite a long list of requirements." Pei Xian sipped his tea and pondered for a moment. "It seems your opinion of Secretary Xie was quite high. Even among the high-ranking clans in a city of a million, one rarely finds a gentleman who meets all these criteria."

Jiang Luan thought of something and suddenly burst into a brazen laugh.

She lowered the fan she had been using to cover her face and turned to face him.

Her soft, beautiful eyes curved into crescent moons, her expression a mix of aristocratic grace, cunning, and unbridled audacity.

"Who says gentlemen who meet all these criteria are rare in the capital?" She leaned back, smiling, and pointed forward with her fan.

"Grand Marshal Pei, do you not meet every single one of them yourself?"

Pei Xian still held a mouthful of tea. When he heard her speak, the faint smile he usually wore during meetings was still on his lips.

In the brief moment after Jiang Luan finished her sentence, the expression on his face merged perfectly with that of Xie Lan, who was kneeling on the bamboo mat beside him.

Cold, indifferent, expressionless—like two blocks of ice cast from the same mold.

Silence.

A sudden silence engulfed the inner and outer halls.

No one present dared to make a sound; even their gazes were lowered to the ground, wishing only that they could seal their ears shut.

The next moment, Pei Xian closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the warm tea stuck in his throat.

The teacup was set back on the low table with a sharp *clack*, shattering the silence of the room.

The faint smile that had always hung on his lips vanished.

His narrow, double-lidded phoenix eyes suddenly turned sharp, and he fixed an intense, piercing gaze on Jiang Luan.

Pei Xian remained in his seat and raised his voice. "Xue Duo, come in."

With a *bang*, the tightly closed wooden door was pushed open from the outside. Xue Duo, armed with a sword and leading his men, strode in. Over twenty armored guards filled the inner hall, shouting in unison, "What are your orders, Grand Marshal!"

"Aside from the Princess, who is to remain in the hall, take all other palace servants to the courtyard and keep them under guard."

"Yes!"

The guards immediately spread out to surround the area. Their words were polite, but their actions were anything but, as they drove the five or six personal attendants serving in the inner hall out of the room.

Nanny Yuan and Bailu, who was on night duty, rushed over, intending to stand in front of Jiang Luan. Jiang Luan patted their hands to soothe them.

"Rest assured, I am fine. The Grand Marshal simply dislikes my joke and wishes to speak with me alone for a few moments. Go outside and wait."

Nanny Yuan and Bailu followed the other servants out, filled with doubt.

Pei Xian rose from the folding stool and stood by the window with his hands behind his back, watching as the servants moved away from the main hall and gathered in the courtyard.

"A joke?" he repeated.

"Tonight’s joke is truly one I cannot afford to take. Do not forget, Princess, that I am the cousin of the Empress Dowager. The Empress Dowager was the Late Emperor’s first wife and your legal mother. If we strictly discuss seniority, you should be calling me 'Uncle'."

He stood by the window, his gaze like a blade as he looked back. Though his words were calm, his expression was like gathering storm clouds, with a mountain rain about to fall.

"You are selecting a consort, and you have set your sights on your own uncle?"