Rumor 1

That night, Yan slept incredibly well. Pan Yueyang held her tightly in his arms throughout the night. She knew he was not yet fully satisfied, but he restrained himself out of consideration for her wellbeing and did not trouble her further. Yan leaned contentedly against the man's chest, savoring the happiness he brought her.

"Awake?" Pan Yueyang gently stroked Yan, who nestled obediently in his embrace like a kitten.

"Mm." Yan was deeply moved that Pan Yueyang, instead of rising early to practice swordsmanship as usual, chose to hold her and wait patiently for her to wake.

Suddenly, she felt a weight press down on her. Before her startled cry could escape, his warm lips sealed hers, and he kissed her deeply, tenderly, their lips entwined. Yan closed her eyes, delighting in his love, feeling blissfully happy.

Outside, Xiao Yuan peeked around the doorway, waiting for a long while. How come the general and his wife were still not up? It was most perplexing.

That day, Ou Ruolan was in good spirits. She thought it might be nice to go out for a stroll and called for Cuizhu to prepare the carriage.

"Princess, the carriage is ready," Cuizhu announced, quite pleased herself. She had grown weary of facing Ou Ruolan’s constant gloomy expressions day after day.

"Good. I think Mu Qianxue should have made some progress by now. Let's go out for a walk." For once, Ou Ruolan looked genuinely interested, pulling Cuizhu along as she hurried outside.

Cuizhu was puzzled by Ou Ruolan's unusual cheerfulness. She wondered what Mu Qianxue had said to the princess that day, but one thing was certain—their target was the same: Yan.

The carriage moved at a leisurely pace. Ou Ruolan lifted the curtain and saw few pedestrians on the street. Looking ahead, they were nearing the bustling marketplace. "Stop here," she ordered.

Cuizhu looked at Ou Ruolan in confusion, not daring to ask questions, and simply followed closely behind.

"Cuizhu, go and listen to what those people are talking about," Ou Ruolan said, nodding toward a small teahouse.

Cuizhu nodded obediently and entered the teahouse. At that hour, there were only a few idle patrons inside. One man, dressed like a scholar and fairly neat, was whispering with a smile to those at his table, drawing more listeners as he spoke. Cuizhu couldn't make out what they were discussing from afar and, though unused to the ways of the common folk after years of serving Ou Ruolan in the palace, she forced herself to step closer.

The man's voice was low; without keen attention, one would miss it. "They say that little bedchamber attendant, though stunningly beautiful, has brought trouble upon herself," he said, his regretful tone infecting those around him.

A burly, slovenly man chimed in, "Yes, I heard she's not only beautiful but also talented. Pity she was born into the wrong circumstances. Competing with the princess for a man—she's just asking for trouble."

Cuizhu tilted her head in confusion. What were they talking about? A beauty? Talent? Princess? The eldest princess was over twenty-eight and married to the eldest son of the prime minister, while the second princess had married abroad years ago. Could they be talking about Ou Ruolan?

Cuizhu pricked up her ears and listened closely.

"Exactly. I heard the other attendant in General Pan's residence was talented as well, but... she’s gone now. In the end, women destroyed themselves fighting over jealousy," someone remarked.

"Oh? Is that so? How come we never heard about it? Tell us more..." another urged.

Cuizhu shot a glare at the man. People said women loved gossip, but these men were no different!

At that moment, the teahouse manager approached with a smile. "Would the young lady care for some tea? We have an excellent Da Hong Pao." The manager realized she was here for information, but even so, she should pay for the privilege.

Cuizhu looked at him with disdain, pulled a piece of silver from her purse, and tossed it to him, waving her hand for him to leave. The manager, satisfied with the payment, left without another word.

"They say that woman competed with the princess for favor in her songs..." someone continued. Cuizhu listened for a moment but found their idle gossip meaningless. She turned and left the teahouse, scanning the marketplace for Ou Ruolan, who was now at a clay figurine stall. Cuizhu gathered her skirts and hurried over.

"Miss, Miss," she called, cleverly avoiding the use of 'princess.'

"What took you so long?" Ou Ruolan set down a small clay figure.

"I heard the people in the teahouse talking..." Cuizhu whispered.

A pleased expression crossed Ou Ruolan's face. "Mu Qianxue really does have a head on her shoulders. Hmph." The sun was already high, and though autumn had set in, its warmth was still pleasant.

"Miss, aren't you angry?" Cuizhu asked, surprised. The talk in the marketplace was all about that wretched woman’s talents and her rivalry with the princess. From what Cuizhu knew of Ou Ruolan, she would usually be livid, ready to skin that woman alive for such humiliation. How could Ou Ruolan possibly tolerate this disgrace?

"Why should I be angry? I should be happy," Ou Ruolan replied with a smile. It had been a long time since anything had brought her such joy.

"I don't understand..." Cuizhu shook her head. What had Mu Qianxue said to Ou Ruolan? This Mu Qianxue truly was formidable!

"Hmph, you'll understand soon enough. Find a larger restaurant," Ou Ruolan instructed, feeling hungry. It was the perfect opportunity to listen to the people's gossip over a meal.

The Qilin was the largest restaurant in the entire imperial city. Cuizhu entered first, asking, "Manager, is there a private room available?"

The manager glanced at Cuizhu. Though she wore a maid's attire, her clothes were of a quality fit for a nobleman's daughter. Even the peony leaves embroidered on her purse were made with strings of jade beads. "This way, miss," he said warmly, personally leading the way.