Chapter 5: Guan Yizhou Is Here!

As evening fell, Shen Heng changed into a light blue ruqun.

The fabric was cloud brocade tribute from the Jiangnan weaving workshops—sheer yet opaque, faintly gleaming with a silver luster under the light, like flowing water cascading over her body.

The hem was embroidered with hidden-pattern white cranes that appeared and vanished as she moved. The waistband was tied high, making her whole figure look slender and light.

Chunyuan styled her hair into a flying-immortal bun, with only a pair of white jade magnolia hairpins tucked in, and matching white jade earrings that set off her fresh, ethereal beauty—like someone who had stepped out of a painting.

Before leaving, she made a special detour to the east wing to see Agu.

"Agu."

She bent down, looking at the child sitting on the couch.

"I'm going to the palace for the banquet."

She crouched down to meet his eyes at his level.

"Stay put in the residence and remember to take your medicine on time. Physician Ji is coming tomorrow to look at your throat."

Agu nodded, but his eyes were fixed on her clothes, a faint trace of something complicated flickering in his gaze.

Tonight's palace banquet was held for the Northern Border delegation. The delegation had come to discuss a marriage alliance—and the alliance was to be with a princess of Great Zhao.

And Shen Heng was also a princess.

"If there are any good pastries at the palace, I'll sneak some back for you."

Shen Heng added.

Agu paused for a moment, then curved his eyes into a smile—an extremely lovely smile.

That smile was impossibly clean, like the sun just rising over a snowfield.

Shen Heng couldn't resist ruffling his curly hair, then stood up and left.

The carriage rattled along Chang'an Street.

The sky had already darkened, and lanterns on the palace walls lit up one by one, shrouding the entire imperial city in a warm golden glow.

Shen Heng leaned against the carriage wall, resting with her eyes closed.

But in her mind, she was slowly sorting through the plot of the original novel.

Tonight's palace banquet was the first major turning point in the entire book.

In the original story, the Northern Border delegation sought to marry a princess. The three princesses all pushed the duty onto one another, and in the end, it was decided by drawing lots—the Second Princess.

As it turned out, the Second Princess eloped with her lover halfway there, and the marriage alliance between the Northern Border and Great Zhao became a joke.

Add to that the news of Agu being tormented in Great Zhao spreading back to the Northern Border, and that fragile thread between the two nations snapped.

The Yonghe Hall blazed with light.

Low tables and seating mats lined both sides of the great hall. Palace lanterns illuminated the interior bright as day, and the gilded coiled-dragon pillars gleamed brilliantly in the lamplight.

By the time Shen Heng arrived, quite a few people were already seated in the hall.

A palace attendant guided her to her seat, which had been arranged below the three princesses.

As the emperor's adopted daughter, she barely counted as a fourth princess.

The three princesses were already seated.

First Princess Xiao Mingyao, Second Princess Xiao Mingyue, and Third Princess Xiao Mingzhu—their seats were clustered together, and they were whispering about something.

When they saw Shen Heng approach, all three stopped talking at once.

The First Princess glanced at her and offered a polite smile.

"Heng'er, are you feeling better? You look well enough."

"Much better."

Shen Heng gave a slight bow.

"Thank you for your concern, Eldest Sister."

The Second Princess looked her up and down, her gaze pausing on that light blue ruqun. The corner of her mouth twitched downward slightly, but she said nothing.

The Third Princess merely grunted "Mm" and turned her head away.

With the perfunctory pleasantries out of the way, the three of them went back to talking among themselves, leaving Shen Heng hanging.

Shen Heng didn't mind. She took her seat.

She knew exactly where she stood in the eyes of these true golden-branch jade-leaf nobles.

A princess in name only—no fief, no real power. Her only backing was that brother of hers commanding troops at the border.

The fact that they were polite to her at all was already giving face to Shen Lin.

She picked up the white porcelain teacup in front of her and lowered her head to drink, while using her peripheral vision to survey the surroundings.

Then she spotted the Third Prince, Xiao Zhengting.

The male lead of the original novel—Third Prince of Great Zhao, future ruler of Great Zhao.

Xiao Zhengting sat at the head of the princes' seats, dressed in a deep blue brocade robe. He had handsome features and a gentle, restrained bearing—among the assembled princes, he did indeed stand out somewhat.

Shen Heng sighed inwardly.

He looked refined and scholarly, but in truth he was a dark, twisted obsessive with terrifying possessiveness.

Who would have thought this guy would later imprison the female lead?

Shen Heng couldn't help but curse him in her heart.

Xiao Zhengting seemed to sense her gaze and turned his head.

Their eyes met. He paused for a beat, then smiled at her, raised his cup in a distant toast, and rose to walk over.

"Heng'er."

He came to a stop before her and looked down at her face carefully.

"I heard you fell into the water a few days ago? How are you feeling?"

Shen Heng stood to return the courtesy.

"Thank you for your concern, Third Brother. Much better now."

"That's good."

Xiao Zhengting nodded.

"If Shen Lin knew you'd been ill at the border, he'd probably be rushing back overnight in a panic."

His tone was gentle as he said this, like an ordinary elder brother caring for his younger sister.

Shen Heng smiled and made a couple of polite responses, and Xiao Zhengting returned to his seat. But as he turned, his steps paused, and he glanced back at her—a trace of something unreadable in his gaze.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Shen Lin's sister had become a different person.

She had attended palace banquets before, but she'd always kept her head down, speaking in a thin, weak voice like a candle flame that might be snuffed out by the wind at any moment.

Today, though, she held her head up, her eyes bright and clear.

Xiao Zhengting shook his head, deciding he'd probably just been too busy with official duties and his eyes had played tricks on him.

Shen Heng, of course, had no idea she'd been scrutinized.

She sat back down, her fingers idly turning the teacup.

Just then, the ceremonial official outside the hall called out in a loud voice.

"The Northern Border delegation arrives—"

The music stopped abruptly.

The murmuring throughout the hall fell silent in that instant.

The hall doors slowly swung open.

First came two rows of Northern Border warriors filing in—wolf-pelt cloaks draped over their shoulders, curved sabers at their waists, leather boots on their feet. Every one of them was powerfully built, with gazes like hawks.

They took their positions along both sides of the hall in perfect unison, their killing intent restrained yet impossible to ignore.

These people looked like they had walked in from another world, every inch of them radiating the bitter chill of the snow plains.

Then the delegation's chief envoy and deputy envoy entered in order.

They wore Northern Border court attire—deep black long robes with the totem of the Snow God Mountain embroidered at the hem. The undulating white mountain range stood out starkly against the dark fabric.

Northern Border clothing was completely different from Great Zhao's—none of the elaborate embroidery or flowing ribbons, yet it had a unique beauty of its own, cold and forthright like their ice-and-snow-covered land.

Then Shen Heng saw the person walking at the very center of the delegation.

The moment he stepped through the door, the light in the entire Taiji Hall seemed to dim.

He wore no Northern Border court attire—only a moon-white long robe, with a silver-grey great cloak over it.

That cloak was made of some material she couldn't identify, faintly rippling with fragmented silver light under the lamps, like moonlight spilled across a snowfield.

His figure was tall and slender as a pine, as a bamboo—standing there, he was a lone, striking landscape.

No excess ornament at his waist, only a belt woven from silver thread, from which hung a mutton-fat white jade pendant.

He was plainly dressed to the extreme, yet he was the most eye-catching person in the room.

His features were so refined and handsome they hardly seemed mortal.

Brows like distant mountains capped with snow, eyes like a cold pool reflecting the moon, nose bridge straight as if carved, thin lips slightly pressed together, their color extremely pale.

Most arresting were those amber eyes.

Like a handful of moonlight sealed in frozen pine resin—clear and luminous, yet bottomlessly deep, as if a fathomless pool of water lay sealed beneath a thousand-year layer of ice.

His whole being was like the coldest snow lotus on the Snow God Mountain—unreachable, so lofty that even gazing up at him felt like an offense.

The hall was dead silent.

All three princesses were stunned.

The First Princess didn't even notice her round fan slip onto the table. The Second Princess's mouth hung open. The Third Princess gasped, letting out a low cry.

"Heavens... he—he's even more than the rumors said..."

She didn't finish, but everyone knew what she meant.

Shen Heng withdrew her gaze and looked down at the wine cup on her table.

He really was good-looking.

Even better-looking than described in the original novel.

That book had spent a full eight hundred words describing Xun Zhuo's appearance—things like "the bearing of an exiled immortal," "the countenance of a snow lotus." She'd thought it was exaggerated at the time. Now, seeing him with her own eyes, she knew those words hadn't been an ounce overstated.

Xun Zhuo walked to the center of the hall and came to a stop, raising his hand slightly. Behind him, the Northern Border envoys all halted in unison.

He placed one hand over his left shoulder and performed a Northern Border salute to the emperor on the throne—clean and crisp, neither arrogant nor servile.

"Xun Zhuo, Imperial Preceptor of the Northern Border, by order of the Great Khan, leading the delegation to pay respects to His Majesty the Emperor of Great Zhao."

His voice was as cold as his appearance.

Low, clear, without a trace of excess warmth or emotion.

The emperor, all smiles, granted them seats.

The delegation took their places.

Xun Zhuo's seat happened to be arranged directly across from Shen Heng.

When he sat down, his great cloak spread out behind him, his movements flowing like water—even the folds of his clothing fell just right.

Shen Heng was looking down at her fingers when she suddenly felt a gaze land on her.

Extremely light, extremely faint—like a snowflake landing on skin, gone in an instant.

She looked up.

The person across from her was looking down at the wine cup on his table, his long fingers wrapped around the cup, knuckles distinct, his fingertips faintly cold-white.

He kept his eyes lowered, long lashes casting pale shadows on his face, his expression placid as ever.

Shen Heng withdrew her gaze and called out to the System in her mind.

[System: I'm here.]

"Was he looking at me just now?"

[System: Host, please judge for yourself. The System does not provide mind-reading services.]

"...Just tell me what you're even good for."

[System: The timed mission has five and a half days remaining. Host, please make haste.]

Shen Heng rolled her eyes internally and decided to ignore it.