Chapter 141: The Enchanting Beauty Deeply Entrapping (Part Two)

Although it was just a fleeting thought, Nie Peixiao knew it would become an obsession. In an instant, an utterly greedy desire arose unreservedly from the depths of his heart—unfathomable, yet somehow reasonable.

Nie Peixiao furrowed his brows and glanced sideways at Chuxiu, wrapped in a delicate pink dress. Her figure was exquisite and uniquely enchanting, like a beautiful abyss, luring him ever deeper into ruinous surrender...

Regrettably, Chuxiu paid no attention to Nie Peixiao’s unusual demeanor, nor did she notice his hesitation to speak. She courteously saw everyone out of the Xianyun Pavilion. Watching Nie Peixiao and his entourage mount their horses, she intended to return and attend to Yun Xian’s wedding.

Unexpectedly, just as this thought crossed her mind, a carriage approached nearby, brushing past Nie Peixiao’s group and stopping in front of the pavilion. A middle-aged man hurriedly alighted and respectfully greeted Chuxiu: "Greetings, Madam."

Chuxiu looked intently at the lantern light and recognized the steward from Liuyun Manor, Zhang: "Steward Zhang, what urgent matter brings you here in such haste?"

Without much ado, Zhang drew a letter from his sleeve, raised it above his head, and replied, "Just now, Lord Helian’s residence sent this letter, saying it is urgent. Please..."

"Was it Lord Helian Qi who sent someone?" Chuxiu interrupted, asking calmly.

Zhang nodded. "Yes, precisely."

Chuxiu lowered her gaze to the letter in Zhang’s hand. In the dim light, she could still make out four bold characters on the envelope: "Madam’s personal reading." Yet it did not specify the recipient. Casting a glance, her expression remained calm as she instructed the steward, "Deal with this letter as you see fit." With that, she turned and returned inside the Xianyun Pavilion.

"Well..." Zhang watched his mistress disappear through the door, unwilling to say more. He had discerned that Lord Helian must have offended Madam before, and now sought only to apologize, but she refused to accept his goodwill.

With these thoughts, Zhang tucked the letter into his bosom, intending to return to Liuyun Manor and burn it. Boarding his carriage once more, he headed back the way he came. Unexpectedly, after turning a corner, the horses suddenly neighed uncontrollably; a wheel clattered twice, then the entire carriage tilted sharply forward to the left. Zhang, unable to react in time, was thrown forward out of the carriage.

Cursing, he prepared to confront the driver but was promptly assisted by two passing men, who helped both him and the driver to their feet.

"Sir, are you unharmed?" one of the men smiled as he spoke.

Zhang rose, brushing off the dust. Aside from some pain around his groin, he was otherwise fine. "I’m alright, just an old bone unbroken. Thank you, young sirs."

The passerby smiled lightly. "Just happened to pass by; it was nothing. No need to worry, sir." Glancing at the carriage missing a wheel, he asked, "The carriage is damaged—how will you return home?"

Zhang shot a sharp look at the driver before replying with a smile, "No need to trouble you gentlemen. I shall have my family come for us."

---

Hearing this, the two men did not press further. After exchanging polite words, they mounted their horses and departed swiftly. Just after passing one intersection, they reined in abruptly before an inn. The man who had helped Zhang entered and reported to those waiting inside: "Your Highness, a letter was retrieved from the steward."

The speaker was none other than Feng Fei, Nie Peixiao’s personal attendant.

Inside the inn waited his master. Earlier, when Nie Peixiao left the Xianyun Pavilion, he noticed a carriage pass closely and stop, guessing it was sent to find Chuxiu. Curious, he instructed Feng Fei to follow discreetly. Feng Fei acted swiftly, managing to steal the letter.

Nie Peixiao took the letter, noticing the wax seal was still intact—evidently, Madam Chuxiu had refused to accept it. For some reason, he suddenly recalled Helian Qi; last night, Feng Fei had also brought news that Madam Chuxiu refused to see Helian Qi. A faint premonition stirred within Nie Peixiao—he felt he could guess the sender.

Sure enough, upon opening the letter, there was no salutation, nor any indication of the addressee, but the contents were unmistakably intimate:

"When shall we meet again to ease this longing? Tonight is fraught with embarrassment. Nearly five years apart, my yearning for you runs deep. At the hour of the dog, a banquet is set at Qianya Pavilion in the west of the city, earnestly awaiting your arrival."

At the end, the date was inscribed, along with the name "Jing Yue."

Jing Yue was the courtesy name of Helian Qi! Nie Peixiao’s heart sank; indeed, Madam Chuxiu and Helian Qi once shared a past... This realization infuriated him greatly. He crumpled the letter into a ball and carelessly tossed it atop a candlestick.

With a crackle, the paper knocked over the candlestick, which fell to the floor, gradually igniting. Nie Peixiao’s handsome face darkened as he watched the letter burn to ash, his anger flaring hotter and hotter. On impulse, he commanded Feng Fei, "Go! To Qianya Pavilion!"

*****

That night in Xianyun Pavilion, the entire Yun household drank themselves into a happy stupor. The atmosphere was lively and joyful. Danxin and others led the revelry, making the newlyweds blush and laugh. That night, there was no distinction between master and servant—only sincere blessings for the couple.

Madam Chuxiu was undisturbed by Helian Qi’s letter and felt truly joyous for Yun Xian and Luanqing, and also for Shen Yu. She unwittingly drank a few more cups; by the time she returned to Liuyun Manor, her cheeks were flushed, her intoxicated beauty glowing more vividly than even the pink dress she wore.

Meanwhile, Liuyun Manor had fallen into quiet. Under the influence of the wine, Chuxiu slept peacefully. But at Qianya Pavilion in the city’s west, the real drama was only beginning.

Nie Peixiao felt he could no longer contain himself. If he did not clarify the history between Madam Chuxiu and Helian Qi tonight, he would torture himself into sleeplessness. Though he knew it was not his place to pry, nor did he have the right, he could not ignore it.

Qianya Pavilion had once been the private residence of the Minister of War. After several transfers, it was sold to the Ming family and became a favored gathering place for aristocratic youths. Originally not included in Ming Ying’s dowry, for some unknown reason the Right Chancellor Ming Cheng later gifted it to his beloved only daughter. Though nominally belonging to the Ming family, it had long since become the private property of Helian Qi and his wife.

Nie Peixiao had been to Qianya Pavilion before for a garden party. The steward and guards recognized him and knew the visitor could not be offended, so they promptly sought Helian Qi’s permission. Though surprised, Helian Qi upheld etiquette and came out to greet him: "Your Highness, what an honor."

"Why not? Am I not welcome?" Nie Peixiao, familiar with the pavilion’s layout, smiled as he proceeded toward the small garden. Approaching and seeing the decorations, his brows furrowed deeply, his expression darkened like a brewing storm.

The small garden was always a scenic highlight of Qianya Pavilion but too small for hosting parties. Guests usually only admired it without gathering there. Tonight, however, it was clearly specially arranged: pink lotus-shaped lanterns hung all around, various unnamed flowers formed a vivid circle around the main table, red and green hues competing for brilliance, making the space feel like a sea of blossoms suffused with a bright yet ambiguous atmosphere.

Originally, the main table seated four, but two stone stools had been removed, leaving only two stools opposite each other. Each was cushioned with lotus throne-shaped pads, presumably prepared thoughtfully for the guests. On the table were two tall red candles burning brightly—undeniably the dragon and phoenix nuptial candles used in weddings.

Yet after just a cursory glance, Nie Peixiao’s irritation deepened. His voice turned cold as he smiled at Helian Qi: "Jing Yue is in such high spirits—what fair lady did he invite?"

Standing with his back to the light, Nie Peixiao’s expression was hidden, and Helian Qi could not discern his jealousy. Embarrassed, Helian Qi cleared his throat and replied, "Your Highness jokes. It’s just an old friend reuniting for a small drink."

"A small drink?" Nie Peixiao’s smile was laced with sarcasm. "That old friend must be a beautiful woman, no? Aren’t you afraid Madam Ming will be jealous?"

Mentioning Ming Ying, Helian Qi’s face instantly darkened. He sneered coldly, "So the rumors of my wife’s jealousy have already reached Your Highness’s ears?"

Jealous? Ming Ying’s jealousy was notorious. "Not to mention the recent, but the distant past—when Madam Ming burned down the Drunken Flower House, forcing Miss Han Chu to her death—a widely circulated tale!" Nie Peixiao deliberately provoked Helian Qi. As he spoke, he glanced sideways and noticed Helian Qi’s steps falter, his words slurred faintly.

"What did you say?" Nie Peixiao leaned in to listen, catching only the name "Han Chu." Hearing that name and recalling the peerless melody from four or five years ago, Nie Peixiao’s displeasure grew. His temper flared, and he said plainly, "Helian, you are truly fortunate in love—first having Miss Han Chu as a confidante, and now arranging moonlit meetings with Madam Chuxiu. I must say, I envy you."

Upon hearing this, Helian Qi immediately realized and looked at Nie Peixiao in astonishment: "Your Highness already knows?"

Nie Peixiao snorted coldly, tacitly confirming this.

Helian Qi shook his head and smiled bitterly, "I nearly forgot that when Miss Han Chu debuted, Your Highness also competed for her favor and must have seen her true face… So you have long known Madam Chuxiu’s true identity."

Nie Peixiao was momentarily puzzled by the implication, standing dumbfounded as the two names flashed rapidly through his mind—Han Chu, Chuxiu? True identity?

Suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, the meaning dawned on him: stunning beauty, skilled in the zither, an old acquaintance of Helian Qi. How many such women existed in this world? How many could play such celestial music?

Exquisite in every pore, heartfelt melodies breaking Mount Wushan’s spell. Human hearts prize gain over honor; in the silent world, the mortal realm is harsh. I am fated never to unite with the zither and flute; you ascend to the heavens, playing among the clouds. There is no more foolish love in the world—let not the immortal music weep at the railing...

Nie Peixiao found it all incredibly bewildering. He grabbed Helian Qi’s collar urgently and demanded, "What did you say? Madam Chuxiu is Han Chu?!"