Nonsense! She’s Not a Bad Woman! - Chapter 103

He Baozhu returned to Tai’an Hall.
Qiao Yihuan glanced behind her but did not see Qiao Wanyan anywhere.

Could it be… she didn’t find a suitable dress and simply went back instead?

With that thought, Qiao Yihuan withdrew her gaze, picked up the teapot, and quietly poured tea for Minister Qiao at his side—every gesture perfectly obedient, like a well-behaved daughter.

A court official sitting nearby smiled in flattery.
“Minister Qiao is truly blessed. This must be your eldest daughter, the one who rarely shows herself in public?”

Minister Qiao chuckled. “Indeed. My eldest daughter has always been timid and reserved, not fond of social occasions. This time, I only wished for her to come out and broaden her horizons.”

For a moment, Qiao Yihuan’s smile stiffened. But she quickly adjusted, lowering her lashes as she gave a polite nod and retreated gracefully to her seat.

She swept a glance at the empty spot beside her. The irritation in her chest eased slightly.

He Zhiyu, watching everything from afar, quietly instructed the palace attendants to deliver the wine flask from his own table to Qiao Yihuan.

As the crown prince, He Zhiyu naturally drew countless eyes wherever he went. This simple act of his did not escape notice. Many people’s gazes inevitably fell upon Qiao Yihuan, silently questioning:

—Her looks and qualities were far from the most outstanding, so why was it that His Highness favored her?

Sitting at the emperor’s side, the empress’s brows furrowed slightly at this scene. Though displeased, she held her tongue in consideration of the occasion.

On the other side, Consort Shu cast her eyes about but failed to see her younger brother anywhere. Even after sending people to search, there was still no word from him. On such an important occasion—why had he vanished without a trace?

“Your Majesty,” Consort Shu suddenly rose, holding her cup with a smile. “This concubine toasts you. Though I am not skilled at drinking, today I must offer this cup with all sincerity. May Your Majesty’s fortune be boundless and your years as enduring as heaven itself.”

The emperor raised his goblet and drank it all in one go.

Consort Shu’s voice softened further, almost coaxing. “Your Majesty, there is another matter this concubine wishes to beg your favor for.”

“Speak, my beloved.”

Her eyes curved with charm, shimmering with mischief. “Your Majesty, my younger brother has already reached his coming-of-age year, yet he still has not taken a wife. My parents grow anxious. Why not let Your Majesty grant him a marriage, bestowing the imperial honor upon him?”

The emperor gave her a deep, meaningful look. At once, Consort Shu tugged lightly at his sleeve, swaying it gently.
“Please, Your Majesty, won’t you agree?”

Consort Shu was still young. In this vast harem, it was by beauty, youth, and a keen sense of tact that she had captured the emperor’s favor. Watching coldly from her seat, the empress could only sneer inwardly—shameless temptress.

The emperor gave a helpless smile. “Marriage is arranged by parents’ will and the matchmaker’s word. Your brother’s marriage is already of great concern to the Count of Pingyang and his wife. Why would I need to interfere?”

Consort Shu bit her lip, unwilling to yield. Her tone turned syrupy. “But, Your Majesty, if you were to bestow the marriage, it would be the greatest honor to the Situ family. I only beg Your Majesty to grant me this one kindness.”

The empress’s expression did not change, her tone cool. “Consort Shu, even if you are willful, there is a time and place. On such a grand occasion, is this the time for your antics? Your Majesty, long ago I instructed the Music Bureau to prepare a performance of song and dance for the birthday celebration. Will Your Majesty not indulge me by enjoying it?”

The emperor nodded with a faint smile. “The empress has put much thought into this.”

Consort Shu’s face stiffened as the subject was pulled away. Taking advantage of no one’s notice, she shot a venomous glare at the empress before reluctantly sitting back down.

At that moment, the sound of flutes and zithers slowly filled the air—pure and ethereal, like celestial music drifting down from the Ninth Heaven. In an instant, the noisy great hall grew silent, all eyes drawn to the performance arranged by the Music Bureau.

From the great hall’s entrance, a group of dancers dressed in flowing green-blue skirts stepped gracefully inside. Their twirls and turns sent their hems blooming like lotus petals, each step brimming with elegant charm.

And under the eyes of all, a woman in a crimson feathered gown entered slowly, her face veiled by a curtain of pearls. She moved with the delicacy of a lotus blooming upon water.

A faint breeze caught her sleeves and hem, lifting them gently into the air. She was like a divine maiden, descending upon the moon—every flutter of her silken robes like ripples of starlight drifting across the night.

She stepped lightly into the center of the dancers’ circle, her figure stopping amid their graceful formation.

The music of flutes and strings ceased, and silence instantly blanketed the great hall. A heartbeat later, the sound of a guqin rose, long and melodic, and the dancers at the center swiftly retreated to the edges.

At the very moment the instruments resumed, Qiao Wanyan dropped gracefully to her knees, arching her back in a deep bend as her flowing sleeves swept outward like wings.

Her slender waist curved like a drawn bow, her silk sleeves flaring out like arrows loosed into the air.

In that instant, every spectator felt their blood surge, rushing hot and fast beneath their skin.

That breathtaking brilliance—so dazzling, so transcendent—shook their hearts and left them unable to calm down.

With a delicate push of her toes, Qiao Wanyan rose again, her figure light as mist. Her dance steps were as fluid as a lotus drifting across the surface of a lake, ethereal and soft.

Like wind whirling snow, like clouds veiling the moon, the entire hall fell utterly silent. Everyone was immersed in this living painting, one of sheer visual splendor.

All wondered when the Music Bureau had produced such a dancer. And then, just as the music reached its peak, the woman at the center twirled and slowly lifted the beaded veil that had concealed half her face. Gasps rippled through the hall, blending with the music.

At that moment, the palace maids extinguished the torches. Yet darkness did not fall.

Above the grand hall, a radiant moon appeared, bathing every corner in soft silver light.

The crowd stared in awe—how could there be a moon inside the palace?

Then Qiao Wanyan leapt gracefully into the air, drifting upward toward the “moon.” Her gauzy skirts billowed like clouds, shimmering with dreamlike beauty.

A goddess riding the wind, ascending to the moon—an immortal scene manifest before their eyes.

No longer did it feel like the Taian Hall, but a celestial banquet in the ninth heaven.

She was the immortal maiden who came bearing the moon, gifting them a feast of beauty they would never forget.

Qiao Wanyan descended lightly, cradling the glowing “moon” in her hands. With a delicate tug, she unhooked the silk ribbon that had lifted her aloft.

The torches flared back to life, and the hall blazed bright as day.

He Yanli’s gaze never once wavered from her. It wasn’t mere glancing—it was an unrelenting stare, laced with a possessiveness even he himself did not realize.

Jiang Qiyun’s wine cup hovered inches from his lips, unmoving. His heart pounded violently, as if it would leap straight out of his throat.

At length, he forced himself to avert his gaze. Yet in his mind he could not help but wonder—was this truly the same Qiao Wanyan who had once slapped him across the face?

Among all present, only Qiao Yihuan immediately turned her eyes toward He Zhiyu. She had hoped that the crown prince—known for his restraint and indifference to beauty—would not be ensnared by mere appearance. But when she saw that even He Zhiyu’s eyes lingered, unblinking, long after the music had ended, her heart sank in bitter disappointment.

She raised her cup and downed the wine in a single swallow.

The empress’s gaze softened with satisfaction as she glanced at He Zhiyu, though she caught Qiao Yihuan’s disappointed expression out of the corner of her eye.

Indeed, in this world, no one was immune to beauty.

Some might resist temptation, but when confronted with overwhelming splendor, no man could remain entirely unmoved.

Her painstaking efforts had not been in vain. She only hoped the crown prince would awaken soon and cease clinging foolishly to someone so utterly ordinary.

Qiao Wanyan stepped forward, bowed gracefully, and spoke:

“Your Majesty, Your Highness the Empress, this humble daughter of the Minister of Revenue, Qiao Wanyan, greets you both. May this bright pearl serve as tribute to celebrate Your Majesty’s eternal life and everlasting reign.”