[Young Master Xian]—❈—71:: The Royal Banquet [I]

Xiuying

Xiuying watched in the mirror as she transformed from a plain, mannish woman with wild, untameable hair into a regal and pristine aristocrat, and all it had taken were a few hours, the expert hands of Wu Yazhu, and clothes so priceless it was probably worth more than all of Silver Springs.

Left to her own devises, Xiuying wasn’t sure she would have been able to figure out which of the many layers of clothing she was currently wearing went on top.

The most number of layers she’d ever worn in her life were two, and that was in the dead of winter. This attire she’d been given for the royal banquet had six layers… or wait, was it seven? Whatever. The point was, there were a lot of layers, and Xiuying wasn’t sure if a mortal would even be able to survive the weight of all this cloth.

Wu Yazhu put the finishing touches on her hair, and for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour, Xiuying marvelled at the sight of it, styled and accessorized with not a single strand out of place.

Usually, Xiuying just washed her hair while she bathed and then used a qi trick she picked up forever ago to dry it. She used to try combing it at first, but after so many combs lost their teeth to her hair to the point that she was finding them in there days after the fact, she gave up, especially since all the combing in the world never seemed to stop it looking like she just got off a galloping horse.

While Xiuying had given up on taming her hair though, Wu Yazhu had taken on the task with the same quiet competence she did everything else. And with a combination of expensive, qi-rich oils, the patience of one used to long, monotonous tasks, and the valiant efforts of a comb carved from the bone of a beast rank qi beast, Wu Yazhu subjugated the wild strands and brought them under heel.

Once again, Xiuying was thankful that Yi had asked the older servant to help her with her outfit, and not just because she was the only reason Xiuying was properly dressed in these fancy clothes, but also because it was nice to get the opportunity to know the woman.

Ever since Xiuying arrived here with Qigang, she hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the former manager and head servant. So, it was nice to have this chance to sit and gossip.

Or at least, it would have been, were it not for the fact that Wu Yazhu didn’t really do gossip.

The woman barely even did conversation.

It was so bad that Xiuying suspected that if she were a more insecure person, she probably would have thought Wu Yazhu had some sort of quarrel with her.

With her hair done and her clothes in order, Wu Yazhu stepped back, looked over Xiuying a couple of times, and then said, “We’re done.”

“Yeah, we are,” Xiuying agreed. “Thanks for the help, Senior Wu. I don’t even know where I would have started if I had to do this by myself.”

“You are welcome,” Wu Yazhu said, and then the older, higher-ranking woman dipped her head in a bow and excused herself.

Xiuying stared at the door Wu Yazhu had left through for several seconds.

That was weird.

By any measure, except for cultivation, Wu Yazhu was Xiuying’s senior. The woman should not be bowing to her.

Granted, it was a rather shallow bow, but the point remained.

Deciding to set it out of her mind after a minute, Xiuying moved on to other matters, namely that of learning to walk in these clothes.

It turned out to not be too difficult, all she had to do was ensure she took small, measured steps, which is exactly how Geng Zemin had drummed into their heads that they should walk anyway.

Confident now that she would not be embarrassing herself, Xiuying decided to go check on the others.

Yi’s room was closer, so she knocked there first, her qi sense told her that the woman was present with another servant in her room.

“Come in,” Yi called from within.

Xiuying walked into the room, and right from the door, she got a clear view of Yi standing fully dressed before her full-length mirror, a maid named Bi standing to the side and watching her with wide, awed eyes.

Xiuying could see why.

She’d thought that her fancy clothes made her look beautiful, and they did, but regardless of what Qigang said, Xiuying knew that she wasn't beautiful. Not really. She didn’t cry herself to sleep or anything like that over it, but she knew the honest truth.

Yi though… Yi was beautiful. Yi had probably never not been beautiful.

In fact, Xiuying was pretty sure that, dressed in rags and sick with dysentery, Yi would probably still be at least more attractive than most people in such a situation.

Dressed up as she now was, Yi’s beauty only got greater, and all of it was on display for Xiuying through her clear reflection in the giant mirror.

Yi must be able to see Xiuying on the mirror too, because she smiled at her without turning.

“Wow,” Yi said. “You wear that well.”

Xiuying smiled, flattered by the compliment, especially since she knew it was true; she did wear these clothes well, even if she sure as hell would not want to make a habit of doing it often.

Yi’s expression changed then, her smile widening into a mischievous grin, and Xiuying knew what was coming even before the other woman said, “All those layers almost make it look like you have breasts. I guess you’ll be drawing some eyes tonight.”

Xiuying rolled her eyes, the tease not bothering her in the least. “When have I ever cared about drawing eyes?” she asked.

“True, I suppose,” Yi said. “Especially since we both know that the only pair of eyes you care about drawing will definitely like what he sees.”

Xiuying froze at the words, and Yi tittered.

It was beyond obvious who was the ‘he’ Yi was referring to. Which was just silly because Xiuying definitely didn’t see him that way…

Or at least she was pretty sure that she didn’t see him that way.

I mean, sure he was nice to look at, and he was powerful, and strong, and sometimes when he smiled at her his eyes lit up in that beautiful way they did, and sure something about him just made her feel... safe and appreciated in ways that she’d never really considered before...

None of that meant she had feelings for him though. That was clearly just her brain as a woman recognizing a competent, desirable male as a potential mate or whatever.

‘Sure thing,’ a voice in her mind said snidely. ‘You just keep telling yourself that.’

Xiuying told the voice to shut up.

Besides, even if she did feel that way, it wouldn’t matter. Yi and Qigang clearly had a thing going. Whatever it was.

If Qigang was going to make advances to any woman, it would be Yi.

More importantly, if his mother, the Matriarch, was going to let him court either of them, it would be Yi.

Yi was beautiful, highly intelligent, already had training and experience with caring for Qigang and his affairs, and, despite the status of her birth, she never had a problem looking like she belonged in high society.

Manners, etiquette, all that stuff just seemed to come to her naturally. And despite that she never seemed to stop trying to improve.

Above all, of them both, Yi was the only one who would be willing and content to be Qigang’s concubine.

Xiuying wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

She wasn’t some silly girl with daydreams about love and romance. She understood that reality was often harsh and full of compromises, but that didn’t change the fact that she had her own pride.

Being a concubine was basically announcing to the world that this person and their family didn’t even consider you worthy of their name.

Xiuying had dealt with too much shit in her life over surnames to overlook something like that.

Pulling her thoughts back from the deviation her mind had taken, Xiuying focused back on the moment to find Yi giving her a knowing smile.

It was like the woman knew exactly what she’d been thinking about.

Xiuying straightened her shoulders reflexively. “Wipe that stupid smile off your face,” she said. “Besides, we both know if anybody is drawing his eyes, it’s you.”

“Is that so?” Yi asked. “Because I distinctly recall that I wasn't the one he was eyeing up two days ago.”

“What—that wasn’t… he was just being nice.”

“Just being nice? Really? You’re so beautiful, Xiuying,” she said, mimicking Qigang’s words but with an overly dramatic swoon and a faux-deep voice that sounded nothing like his smooth, dulcet timbre.

“That’s not what he said. Or how he said it,” Xiuying argued.

“Maybe not, but it was implied,” Yi said, grinning.

Xiuying watched her, flustered and a little amused, but mostly confused.

Where was all of this coming from?

Regardless of what Qigang had said or done two days ago, the fact remained that any romantic interest he had was obviously for Yi and not her.

Moreover, it was obvious (because Xiuying had eyes in her fucking head) that Yi reciprocated his interest, even if they seemed to both be (reasonably) hesitant to act on it due to their history.

All this teasing about her supposed “feelings” for Qigang were weird and new, and Xiuying had no clue where it was coming from.

If Yi was a different kind of woman, Xiuying would have thought she was doing that ridiculous thing that pathetic mortal women did in situations like these, when they thought a different woman was ‘making moves’ on the man they had their sights on.

They would smile and say things that at first glance sound supportive and complimentary, but on a second listen are in fact, awful, mean, and just generally petty insults.

That was clearly not happening here though. Yi wasn't being mean; the only thing she’d said so far that could be seen that way was the comment about how all the layers Xiuying had on almost made it look like she had breasts. But that was typical for Yi, she was always teasing Xiuying for the size of her chest.

In fact, if anything, it seemed like Yi actually believed that there was some sort of romantic interest between her and Qigang. Which was definitely news to Xiuying, as she hadn't seen any signs of such a thing.

“What’s going on with you this evening?” she asked, deciding to cut straight to it. “Where’s all this coming from?”

Yi looked at her in a way that was hard to decipher, and then she smiled. “I could tell you, but I think Bi has heard enough for one evening.”

They both looked at Bi, the servant who’d been standing in the corner this whole time watching their back and forth with rapt attention.

The woman smiled awkwardly, ears red.

“Um… I should be on my way then?” she said, sounding like she was asking permission.

“You should,” Meng Yi said. “Thank you for the help.”

“It was my pleasure,” Bi said, then she bowed, and with a final: “My ladies,” she hurried out of the room.

Xiuying watched as the woman left, then turned to Yi.

“Did she just call us my ladies?” she asked.

“It seems she did,” Yi said, looking amused at the term of address.

“Wu Yazhu bowed to me earlier,” she told Yi.

Her eyebrows climbed. “Truly?”

“Yes. It wasn't a deep bow, but… wait, they don’t think we’re Qigang’s women, do they?”

Yi’s amusement returned twofold. “You’re just now realising that?” she asked.

Xiuying’s mouth dropped. There were a dozen different things she wanted to ask, but in the end what came out was: “But why?”

Yi shrugged. “Because it gives them something to talk about,” she said. “I don’t much mind it, personally. There are worse things to be called than his woman.”

Xiuying supposed she couldn’t argue with that.

“Come,” Yi said, “let’s go meet Qigang.”

They head over to his room and enter to find him dressed and with two servants helping style his ridiculously long hair in front of his mirror.

Qigang turned to face them as they walked in and then he just stopped and stared in a way that made Xiuying’s cheeks warm.

“Wow,” he said after a moment, the one word saying everything.

Yi dismissed the servants handling his hair, and on her direction, Xiuying joined her in taking over the task.

Several times as they worked, her eyes met Qigang’s in the mirror, and though Xiuying couldn’t figure out why (or perhaps bring herself to admit it), she always looked away, a strange feeling in her belly.