Speaking of Love, Midnight Visit to the Boudoir

This gambling scheme had ensnared many of the powerful—even her own natal clan was involved. Though it had only been running for a few days, its reach was enormous. Not even the Empress could publicly criticize it.

Serena Feng and Vincent Su were truly resourceful. Instead of courting the princes themselves, they targeted the factions behind them. That way, when trouble came, powerful voices would speak up in their defense.

All the bustle in the world is for profit; all the commotion is for gain. The strongest ties in this world are built on mutual interest—and so are the most fragile.

The alliance formed by this gambling scheme was only temporary. Their support for Serena Feng would last only until the profits were divided; then everything would return to its original state. Serena understood this, and so did the Empress—but Princess Serenity did not.

There was no way to explain all this to Princess Serenity in a short time, and the Empress didn’t intend to try. She simply made a promise: "Don’t be upset, my child. Serena Feng’s glory won’t last long—Mother will help you get your revenge."

Princess Serenity looked up just in time to catch a flash of cruelty in the Empress’s eyes. She shivered—she knew that look. Whenever her mother’s gaze turned murderous, someone would die.

Even Princess Serenity feared that look. She called out timidly, "Mother?"

"Don’t worry, my child. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you," the Empress promised again and again.

"Mother, do you have a plan? Do you need my help?" Her fear lasted only a moment—Serenity knew her mother would never harm her, only pave the way for her.

The Empress smiled mysteriously and tapped Serenity’s forehead with her finger. "You clever girl, you see through everything. No need to help—just behave yourself for the next few days and wait to watch the show."

“Mother, Mother, what did you do? Tell me, I want to help!” Princess Serenity instantly stopped crying, her eyes shining as she clung to the Empress, her tone playful and eager.

“Enough now, don’t make a fuss. I’ll handle it myself. The Imperial Workshop just finished a batch of new jewelry, the designs are exquisite. I’ve set a few pieces aside for you—go take a look.”

“What’s the point? It’s all leftovers after Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh picked through them. I don’t want them.” Serenity pouted, but her feet moved quickly all the same.

“They’re just lifeless things. Remember, the Empress of Eastlyn is your mother—that will never change.” The Empress patted Serenity’s shoulder, seeming unconcerned, but the cold gleam in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

By custom, jewelry from the Imperial Workshop was presented to the Emperor first, so he could keep a few pieces to reward others. The rest would go to the Empress, who would make her selection before the other consorts got their share.

But this time, the Emperor issued an imperial edict: the new batch would go first to Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh. The Empress was furious, but no matter how angry she was, she had to act magnanimous on the surface.

In the harem, women vied for the Emperor’s favor and for power. Without his affection and the backing of true authority, even the Empress could only swallow her grievances.

Within the palace, everything appeared harmonious, but beneath the surface, dangerous currents swirled. Everyone wore a mask; behind those friendly faces hid fangs ready to strike at any moment.

Ignorance is bliss. Serena Feng, oblivious, had no idea that a plot against her was already unfolding.

Serena slept straight through until nightfall. After dinner, she began thinking about how to face her upcoming contest with Wendy Summers.

Even if she claimed not to care about winning or losing, she still had to prepare. If she lost too badly, it would disgrace Eastlyn—and the Emperor and the entire court would never let her live it down. For the sake of her future, she had to give it her all.

Serena was deeply wary of the Empress. She refused to use any of the Empress’s gifts, never forgetting how the riding outfit she’d been given at the Imperial Menagerie Grounds tore apart with a single tug.

Women’s hearts are narrow; their eyes see only power and harem rivalries. Sometimes, for personal grudges, they’ll disregard the interests of the entire country. Serena knew this well—she was that kind of person herself.

She wasn’t the sort to save the world—what did national affairs have to do with her? By her own reckoning, the Empress was probably the same. Never assume malice, but never drop your guard. Whether or not the Empress meant her harm, it never hurt to be cautious.

After instructing Jada Tang and Mira Tang to sew her a new riding outfit, Serena returned to her room, ready to sleep again. She’d made up for last night’s lost rest during the day, and tonight was for tonight’s sleep. Serena knew her own ability to sleep—she wasn’t worried at all about insomnia.

But Jada and Mira didn’t know that. Worried Serena had slept all day and wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, they brought in the zither gifted by the Empress and the score sent from Duke Allen’s manor, saying it was for 'pre-match practice.'

With the contest approaching, Jada and Mira were truly anxious about Serena’s zither skills. Following the principle 'better a dull sword than none at all,' they hoped Serena could perform a miracle and play a beautiful tune after just one day of practice.

But reality was harsh. After both maids played a piece and asked Serena which to learn, she calmly replied, 'You two go on with your work. Leave the zither—I’ll figure it out myself.'

Truthfully, she didn’t want to learn any piece. As a beginner, it was easy to cut her fingers on the strings, and she didn’t want to injure her hands. Besides, with only one day, even a genius couldn’t compete with Wendy Summers, who’d practiced for decades.

Trying to play the zither would only be self-humiliation. Serena had no intention of touching it, nor letting it make a sound. She wasn’t afraid of rumors, but she truly didn’t want to lose face.

“Miss, your contest with the Su family’s daughter is almost here. If you don’t practice the zither, you’ll lose that round for sure. If you really don’t want to play, let me grind ink for you—you can paint instead?” Jada, seeing Serena refuse to touch the zither, tried another suggestion. As for calligraphy—well, everyone knew Serena’s writing was hopeless.

Everyone knew Serena’s calligraphy was terrible, and even more practice wouldn’t help. Rather than hoping she’d improve her writing, they might as well wish for hidden talent in painting.

As for chess?

Forget it. At least with the zither, you could try to learn one song at the last minute, but chess required a solid foundation. Of the four cultured skills—zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting—Serena figured she could only hope to muddle through music or art.

"I can’t paint." Serena admitted frankly. Sketching, oil painting, Chinese ink—she couldn’t do any of it. Not only could she not paint, she couldn’t even appreciate art.

She couldn’t grasp the charm of ink wash painting, nor the beauty of oil painting.

Jada and Mira exchanged glances and lowered their heads. "Miss, what will you do about the contest the day after tomorrow?" They were truly worried—Serena didn’t seem to have anything she could show off.

"Don’t worry, I have my own plans. You two can leave now—if there’s nothing else, get some rest." Serena knew her maids were anxious, and she knew others were worried too. But...

No amount of worry could change the fact that she knew nothing of the four arts. She wasn’t a woman raised with traditional education, and even the previous Serena wouldn’t have been confident beating Wendy Summers in cultured skills.

Jada and Mira knew that once Serena made up her mind, they had no right to question her. Full of disappointment and unease, the two quietly left the room.

Serena sat in her chair, staring blankly at the zither. After a long time, she still couldn’t think of a good solution. Not wanting to torture herself further, she got up, ready to go to bed.

"Serena Feng, how do you plan to beat Wendy Summers?" A familiar voice sounded behind her. Serena paused and looked in that direction. "Lance Quinn?"

"Who else would it be?" Lance Quinn stepped out of the shadows, candlelight flickering across his mask.

"Who else but you would sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night?" Knowing exactly who it was, Serena let down her guard, gestured for Lance to sit, poured two cups of tea, and pushed one toward him. She asked naturally...