Yue'er would surely not wish to see Your Highness so consumed by sorrow.
Night at the Prince Jun Estate
The banquet was in full swing, and everyone had drunk heavily. Some guests remained insatiable, continuing to toast others. Zhao Chengxian, as the host, could not escape his obligations. The students from the Wenxuan Library, lacking any official rank, were even more desperate; fearing that their superiors or seniors might overlook them, they felt compelled to toast everyone in sight. Some of the more arrogant seniors forced the newcomers to down three cups before they would even consider taking a sip themselves. The students from the Wenxuan Library were, one by one, becoming thoroughly intoxicated.
Naturally, Yue’er avoided such sycophancy. She had no desire for an official career and intended only to endure her two years at the library. However, her refusal to flatter the nobles and ministers led them to view her as haughty. They conspired to get her drunk, taking turns to toast her. Hui Yue’er, despite having a decent tolerance for liquor, finally succumbed to their relentless bombardment. It was a pity that Hui Qinghui had already departed; otherwise, there might have been someone to shield her. Now, she was forced to fight this battle alone. Looking around the banquet, Yue’er wondered, "How many of these people are truly here to celebrate the Old Princess’s birthday?" The Old Princess had long since retired to her chambers, accompanied by Siluo and the three secondary consorts, while these guests continued their rowdy revelry.
Though Zhao Chengxian could not openly protect Yue’er, his gaze never strayed far from her. Seeing that she was clearly tipsy, he signaled his guard, Chen Gui, to escort her out of the estate. Upon receiving the order, Chen Gui stepped forward and helped the unsteady Yue’er toward Zhao Chengxian’s private villa. The villa sat just behind the Prince Jun Estate, an isolated sanctuary forbidden to the other guests, offering a rare tranquility. After watching Yue’er leave, Zhao Chengxian waited a moment before standing up. "My thanks to you all for coming to celebrate my mother’s birthday," he announced. "Forgive me, but I have reached my limit and must retire to the inner hall to rest. Please, continue to enjoy yourselves, eat well, and have a pleasant evening!" Disregarding the dictates of his role as host, he walked away, focused entirely on his concern for Yue’er. Compared to her, the guests at the banquet were of no consequence. He headed straight for the private villa.
Inside the villa, Yue’er had sobered up slightly after resting. She wandered into Zhao Chengxian’s study and found the layout identical to that of the Jingshu Studio. She was not surprised; it was his study, after all, and naturally arranged to his own preferences. Suddenly, her eyes fell upon a portrait hanging in the most prominent position. The person in the painting was none other than herself. She softly recited the poem inscribed beside it: "Moonlight emotions, etched in my heart, how many knots have I tied for you? In dreams and in thoughts, my soul wanders, longing for you. Winds blow, raindrops shatter; I wonder if the past has turned to ash? Longing for you always, how can I bear to part? I wonder if tomorrow we might return to the beginning?" Recalling the moment she had seen Zhao Chengxian reciting these lines in Heling Village, her eyes grew moist.
Just then, Zhao Chengxian entered. Sensing someone, Yue’er quickly swallowed her tears. Zhao Chengxian walked over, glanced at the portrait, and asked, "Does Scholar Yang also find the resemblance striking?" He knew perfectly well that this was his little Yue’er, but it was not yet time for them to reveal the truth.
Yue’er looked up, forced a smile, and asked, "Your Highness, did you paint this?" Both were asking questions to which they already knew the answers.
Zhao Chengxian nodded. "Yes. Her name is Yue’er. If I had seized my chance two years ago, perhaps the ending today would have been different." Had he realized his feelings for her sooner, he never would have allowed her to enter the palace. She would have been spared the fire, and perhaps by now, they would be married with children.
Yue’er took a deep breath. "There are no 'ifs' in this world, Your Highness. What has happened has happened; please, set your heart at ease. I do not wish to see you so sorrowful. I am sure she would want you to remain the high-spirited man you once were." Having finally spoken her true heart, they stood in a profound silence, the air between them turning delicate. Zhao Chengxian could not help but draw closer to her. Fearing that she would be unable to refuse him—and terrified of exposing her identity—Yue’er stepped back, clasped her hands in a salute, and said, "Your Highness, I have sobered up. I shall take my leave." She hurried out of the villa, leaving Zhao Chengxian standing there, stunned.