Chapter 43
Chapter 43: Filth Beneath Jade Pond Spring Warmth
The Third Princess’s flower-viewing banquet was held beyond the capital walls at Jade Pond Spring Warmth, a place nobles loved when they wanted to pretend at elegance.
The garden was a painted dream—blossoms everywhere, small bridges over running water, pavilions and towers laid out as if by a poet’s hand.
Noble ladies gathered in twos and threes, admiring flowers, sipping tea, exchanging soft laughter.
Every sleeve was fine, every hairpin bright. Every movement was measured—perfect aristocratic grace.
And beneath those beautiful eyes, every heart hid something different.
The three Lin sisters chose an inconspicuous corner and sat, remembering Second Madam’s warning. They didn’t touch the tea or sweets laid out before them.
“This is dull,” Lin Yu Ning muttered under her breath. She hated these gatherings—everyone smiling behind a mask, every laugh too sharp, every courtesy too rehearsed.
“Endure it,” Lin Yu Jiao said, face cool as frost as she surveyed the garden from the corner of her eye.
More than one noble lady she disliked had already looked their way, smiles that didn’t reach the eyes.
Lin Yu Wan, as always, seemed the least ruffled. She watched quietly, attention settling again and again on the main seat.
That was where the storm lived.
The Third Princess, Xuan Ji, lounged in Heart-of-Lake Pavilion in a pomegranate-red palace dress that demanded attention the way fire did. A soft couch cradled her as if she were too precious for wood to bear.
Not far from her, a small stage had been erected.
A handsome male actor sang “Strolling in the Garden, Startled from a Dream,” voice sweet and lingering.
His eyes were drenched with false affection as he stared straight at Xuan Ji, flattery dripping from his lashes.
It was less a performance than a private offering.
“Not bad,” Xuan Ji said lazily, barely lifting her hand. Her nails were painted a deep red that looked almost wet. “Reward him.”
The maidservant at her side stepped forward at once with a tray and placed a heavy gold ingot into the actor’s hands.
He bowed low, delighted, voice turning cloying. “Thank you for the reward, Princess!”
When he looked up, his gaze was even more blatant—like he wanted to become a vine, climb that pavilion, and wrap around her ankle.
Xuan Ji’s lips held a faint, amused curve. Her eyes were dead as still water.
Boring.
These men pressed toward her as if they might die without her notice.
Some grovelled until it made her sick. Some poured out honeyed lies with not a single true word.
And the ones who tried to act aloof at first, hoping to tempt her with games of restraint—laughable.
None of them were interesting. Not one.
Her gaze drifted across bright sleeves and painted faces until it stopped behind a rockery.
A scene was unfolding there.
A young woman in pale moon-white was being pestered by a young man.
“Is that Miss Liu from the Vice Minister of Personnel’s household?” Lin Yu Ning whispered.
Lin Yu Jiao curled her mouth. “Liu Jing Shu. The so-called iceberg beauty who looks down on everyone. If you ask me, she brings bad luck.”
Lin Yu Wan didn’t answer. Her brow drew together slightly as she watched.
The man clinging to Liu Jing Shu was an unremarkable concubine-born son from some noble family. He was pretty enough—red lips, white teeth, peach-blossom eyes that always seemed to promise affection.
He held out a freshly snapped crabapple branch like an offering.
“Miss Liu,” he said, voice thick with oil, “why keep everyone at arm’s length? My heart is pure. I only admire your talent and grace…”
Liu Jing Shu was famous for her coldness. Men rarely received even a passing glance.
Now disgust iced her features.
“Show some respect,” she said, voice cold enough to frost the air.
But the concubine-born son only grew bolder. He reached for her sleeve.
“Miss Liu, you and I are a perfect match—truly made for each other—”
Smack.
The sharp sound cut through the garden like a blade.
Liu Jing Shu’s hand had landed clean across his face. No hesitation. No mercy.
He stumbled, half his cheek reddening and swelling at once. Shock and humiliation flashed in his eyes.
“You… you dared to hit me?!”
In Heart-of-Lake Pavilion, Xuan Ji’s gaze brightened as if someone had finally struck flint.
A ripple spread through her dead-calm eyes.
Now this is interesting.
She propped her chin, watching with sudden attention, a smile slowly deepening.
She loved scenes like this.
She loved watching noble ladies who preached purity and dignity get shoved to the edge—masks torn off, pedestals shattered.
She loved their panic. Their fury. Their helplessness.
Far more entertaining than any song.
“Go,” she murmured, turning her head slightly toward the old matron behind her. “Tell that fool I’ll give him a future, as long as he shows me what I want to see.”
The matron, a palace veteran who understood her mistress’s moods, bowed and slipped away without a sound.
Lin Yu Jiao watched and let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Here comes the real show. That princess lives for stirring trouble.”
“Sister… should we stop it?” Lin Yu Ning asked, unease tightening her voice.
“Stop it?” Lin Yu Jiao snapped, eyes flashing. “With what? This is the Third Princess’s trap. Step in, and you’re slapping her face in public. Do you want to drag the General Manor into that kind of trouble?”
Lin Yu Wan held Lin Yu Ning’s hand and shook her head once—small, firm.
“Watch,” she said.
Not long after, the concubine-born son returned—pretense stripped clean away.
Where his eyes had once tried to look devoted, now they burned with greedy, brutal hunger.
With “a future” dangling before him, his courage swelled into madness.
In full view of the guests, he lunged and wrapped an arm around Liu Jing Shu’s waist, gripping hard.
“Ah!” Liu Jing Shu cried, shock blanching her face. “How dare you!”
She fought wildly, pounding his shoulders. “Let go! Shameless wretch!”
Around them, noble ladies turned to watch.
Some gasped and looked away as if modesty could protect them.
Some covered their mouths, eyes bright with glee.
Some stared openly with contempt, as if the spectacle proved what they’d always wanted to believe.
They whispered. They pointed. Not one stepped forward.
In an instant, Jade Pond Spring Warmth became an arena, and Liu Jing Shu its trapped prey—displayed for amusement.
Xuan Ji narrowed her eyes, satisfied. She lifted her cup and took a slow sip, crimson wine catching the light like blood.
Look at that.
So much for lofty flowers on a cliff. So much for unbending virtue.
Before brute strength and desire, weren’t they all the same—pitiful, flailing, ugly?
It was… delightful.
And then, just as quickly, it dulled.
Liu Jing Shu’s struggle began to weaken. The man’s face twisted from smug to vicious.
Too predictable. Too easy.
These noble ladies were toys, and dull ones at that.
The prey that could truly excite her still hadn’t appeared.
For example… the spotless, untouchable man whispered about across the capital.
The capital’s number one young master.
The Lin family’s Buddhist Scion.
At the thought of Lin Qing Xuan’s cold, restrained face—beautiful as a statue, distant as a god—Xuan Ji’s fingers tightened around her cup.
Her eyes turned sharp, and a thin smile curved her mouth.
She turned to the maidservant newly stationed at her side.
“I’ve heard the Lin family’s Buddhist Scion has been… showing unusual concern for a maid lately.”
The maidservant went pale under her gaze and nodded quickly, voice trembling.
“Y-yes, Princess. They say… they say the maid is called Xiao Man.”
Xuan Ji’s smile deepened, cruel and bright as a blade.
So the Buddhist Scion had grown a mortal heart?
Now that… was interesting.