He Ying was on edge—
Mr. Feng laughingly exclaimed, "Princely Heir, Heir's wife, Miss Jiang, please, taste this bamboo tea and tell me what you think."
As he spoke, he gracefully poured three cups of tea.
The tea was a light yellowish-green.
The liquid was crystal clear.
Sang Yan picked up the cup, took a sip, and savored it delicately, smiling, "It's very delicious. The first taste is a fresh aroma, like the air after rain rushing into the lungs, refreshing and invigorating."
"This is my first time drinking bamboo leaf tea. It is indeed good."
Jiang Yue also praised it then turned to He Ying, seeking conversation, "What do you think, Princely Heir?"
He Ying sipped the tea, unimpressed by the luxuries he was accustomed to, "Ordinary."
The atmosphere grew slightly awkward.
Sang Yan took another sip of tea, smiling as she spoke in Mr. Feng's defense, "To each their own, maybe this tea just isn't to the Princely Heir's taste."
"Perhaps."
Mr. Feng called for a servant to come in and replace the tea.
He followed with a modest smile, "The Princely Heir is wealthy and well-versed, it is my fault for presuming."
"Mr. Feng, you exaggerate," said Sang Yan, appreciating his polite, cultured demeanor enough to add another sentence.
That comment irritated He Ying, and he lost his temper, "Knowing it was presumptuous, you should stop neglecting your duties. Return to your posts earlier and do some real work for the people, so as not to waste your decade of hard study."
Mr. Feng: "…"
He felt particularly targeted by the Emperor.
Considering his years spent traveling, representing the Emperor to inspect the populace and eradicate evil—how could that be called neglecting his duties?
There was only one explanation—The Emperor was angry!
Why was he angry?
Was it because he talked too much with Sang Yan?
At that thought, he glanced at Sang Yan—four years had not decreased her beauty; rather, it seemed to enhance it.
But the more beautiful things are, the more dangerous.
Jiang Ling was dead.
He vividly remembered him promising, "Qingfeng, I will marry her. I don't believe in fate."
And then he had died.
His death was very sudden.
Sang Yan was indeed a virtuous woman, who had remained faithful for four years; a person of integrity, but the husband-killing fate was no joke.
"The Princely Heir gives wise counsel."
Mr. Feng's voice was submissive, but he shifted the topic, "However, as the Saint says, 'Reading thousands of books is not as good as traveling thousands of miles.' My travels have also been fruitful."
Sang Yan was interested, quickly asking, "What kind of fruit?"
Since her arrival, her days had been stagnant; Mr. Feng's life experiences, in her eyes, transformed into impressive travel tales.
Seeing her interest, He Ying felt bitterly jealous.
Bringing her here indeed was a mistake.
"Mr. Feng, you'd better think about what you're going to say. You don't want to embarrass yourself again."
He Ying warned him to moderate himself.
Mr. Feng, receiving the hint, sighed, "Clear breeze and bright moon at night, young man wields his sword freely. Drunk on songs and laughter, one dream knows no sorrow."
Sang Yan: "…"
Why recite a poem all of a sudden?
But what was the poem trying to convey?
He Ying was also confused, "What do you mean by this? Speak plainly, don't be cryptic."
"This seems... to be a poem by my older brother?"
Jiang Yue, sitting quietly to the side, quietly raised her hand, making her presence felt.
Mr. Feng agreed, "Yes. Princely Heir, this was once composed by Jiang Zuo. Unfortunately, heaven envies the talented."
He could not mention Sang Yan's husband-killing fate in front of her, so he hinted, "I once blamed heaven for this, but what I've seen and encountered over the years has made me understand—fate should not be contravened, or else—"
"Mr. Feng!"
He Ying, catching his insinuation, interrupted sternly, "You need to stop talking now!"
He did not want to hear others mention Sang Yan's husband-killing fate.
Sang Yan had once used this reason to reject him, and it had become his taboo.
"I am the Emperor! I am the heavens!"
He was suddenly furious and slammed the table harshly, revealing his identity.
"Emper—Emperor—"
Jiang Yue was shocked and pale, she quickly knelt down: "I pay respects to the Emperor—"
He Ying: "..."
He did not want to reveal his identity in front of Jiang Yue.
But since it was revealed, it didn't matter.
"You must discern what should and should not be said about what you saw today."
He suppressed his anger, his face expressionless, and waved his hand: "Retire."
Jiang Yue stood up, her face still filled with panic, but also with determination: "I, I am pleased with the Emperor."
She knew that after today, she had no chance to see the Emperor again, so even though she knew the Emperor had no interest in her, she still boldly expressed her feelings.
Previously, without Sang Yan, He Ying might have treated her differently, seeing her as a beautiful and courageous woman with pure intentions. But with Sang Yan, no other woman could catch his eye.
"Find someone else to please."
He Ying rejected her very bluntly.
Jiang Yue had mentally prepared herself, but hearing him say this, she still felt hurt and tears fell: "...I take my leave."
She gave a bitter smile and bade farewell to both Sang Yan and Feng Yicheng.
Sang Yan had watched the whole process and couldn't help but say: "The lady has affection; why must the Emperor refuse her? I think you make a well-matched pair."
She truly wanted them to be together.
That way, she would be free from worries.
He Ying knew what she was thinking and felt as if he was being discarded, but given Feng Yicheng's presence, he couldn't erupt and just kept looking at him, his gaze stern and silent.
Feng Yicheng was intelligent, and seeing the Emperor continually watching him, he knew he was impeding the Emperor. Though he wanted to persuade the Emperor to refocus, he also knew the Emperor was not one to heed advice. After some thought, he still bowed respectfully and retreated: "I will go see how the tea is coming along."
He left.
Quiet returned to the private room.
Sang Yan found herself alone with him, and tension rose once more.
The Emperor's gaze fell upon her.
As if tangible.
It made her heart race, restless, wanting nothing but to escape.
"Lift your head. Look into my eyes."
She heard the Emperor's almost commanding voice and subconsciously lifted her head—
Their eyes met in midair.
"Is being well-matched enough merely because of looks?"
She saw the Emperor looking at her, his gaze deep, his tone serious yet gentle: "Then you and I are the most well-matched."
Sang Yan: "..."
Smack.
As if something had struck her heart.
Even though they were just two ordinary sentences.
She felt weak, as if these words had deeply moved her.
"Do not joke, Emperor."
Sang Yan suppressed her heartbeat, feigned calm, and spoke softly: "The Emperor is exalted, able to have any woman you desire, except for me. As Mr. Feng just mentioned, fate cannot be defied."
It was still the husband-killing fate she brought up.
He Ying grew somewhat impatient, yet did not show it, still spoke in a calm and detached tone: "If you care so much about fate, I could have the Observatory calculate our compatibility."
Sang Yan: "..."
She did not care about fate; she just did not want to get involved with the King.
Even though the Observatory might find their compatibility unfavorable, if the Emperor hinted the Observatory to change their judgment, would the Observatory dare to defy the Emperor's order?
If the Observatory didn't dare, then she would truly be hurting herself.
Just as she was thinking—
The Emperor spoke again: "But I do not wish to. Do you know why?"