As everyone took their seats, the hierarchy of the Susha Kingdom revealed itself. Closest to King Feng Suige sat the nobility and high-ranking generals. Beyond them were the officials of the royal city, followed by their families and children. Representatives of the common people filled the outer rows, a symbolic gesture of the royal family’s bond with the masses.
Though Qin Yu held no office, the Qin family’s prestige secured him a seat in the middle section. His daughter, Qin Yi—his pride and joy—always accompanied him to grand occasions. When Feng Qishan noticed the empty place beside Qin Yu, he asked, “Where has little Qin Yi gone off to?”
“Your Majesty, I’m here!” Qin Yi’s bright voice rang out. To everyone’s surprise, she was seated beside Feng Suige at the main table.
“Oh?” Feng Suige narrowed his eyes playfully. “How did you end up there?”
“I want to sit with Brother Feng,” Qin Yi said happily, leaning against him.
Qin Yu frowned, but before he could speak, Feng Qishan laughed. “Let her be. Qin Yi has adored Suige since childhood. Today is Suige’s birthday—let the young ones enjoy themselves. I envy you! With Xi Yang gone, I’m quite lonely.”
A consort with a phoenix hairpin teased, “Since Xi Yang married and left, Your Majesty has thought of her constantly. No wonder you look twice at other people’s daughters.”
Another, wearing a golden flower hairpin, covered her mouth and laughed. “Why doesn’t Consort Jing bear a princess for Your Majesty…”
Feng Qishan’s gaze turned cold. “Consort Zhuang seems in high spirits today?”
Her face paled instantly, and she fell silent.
Consort Jing, though favored, had never conceived. Her barrenness was her deepest sorrow, and Consort Zhuang often sought to wound her pride. If not for Feng Qishan’s rebuke, she would have been humiliated. Regaining composure, Consort Jing said coyly, “Consort Zhuang jests. The Regent Prince is newly married—perhaps there will be good news soon.”
Feng Suige frowned at her words, glancing briefly at Consort Jing. Yi Xiao, seated nearby, sipped his wine in silence.
Consort Zhuang seized the moment, smiling slyly. “When the Prince announced his wedding, countless noble ladies despaired. Many wondered what beauty had captured his heart.” She paused, savoring the attention, then fixed her gaze on Yi Xiao.
Yi Xiao had just peeled an orange. Meeting her eyes, he suddenly stuffed half of it into his mouth, chewing slowly with bulging cheeks.
A spluttering sound broke the silence—someone had spat out their drink. Feng Suige choked, coughing violently, while Qin Yi patted his back in confusion.
Yi Xiao swallowed, wiped the juice from his lips with his sleeve, and never once looked away from Consort Zhuang.
Consort Jing collapsed in laughter against Feng Qishan’s shoulder. The King himself watched with amusement as the hall struggled to contain its mirth. Consort Zhuang’s face darkened. “How unique indeed. Since today is both the Prince’s and the Junior Consort’s birthday, why doesn’t the Junior Consort showcase a skill or two?”
Yi Xiao rose silently, brushing his hands. Consort Zhuang ordered, “Bring my zither.”
“I cannot play the zither,” Yi Xiao said coldly.
“Oh? Then perhaps a graceful dance?”
“I’ve never learned to dance.”
“Then sing for us—”
“I’m tone-deaf.”
“Then perhaps calligraphy—”
“I’m illiterate.”
The murmurs grew louder. Consort Zhuang laughed mockingly. “What can the Junior Consort do? Tell us!”
Yi Xiao’s voice cut like steel. “What I can do, you wouldn’t want to see—and His Majesty wouldn’t allow it.”
All eyes turned to Feng Qishan. He smiled, intrigued. “If it’s not too much, I’ll allow it.”
“I need a strong bow and five arrows,” Yi Xiao said calmly.
The hall erupted in shock. Feng Suige whispered urgently, “Weapons are forbidden before His Majesty…”
“Granted,” Feng Qishan’s voice boomed, silencing the uproar.
A guard brought the bow and arrows hesitantly, but Yi Xiao had already stepped forward and seized them.
“Please stand straight, Consort Zhuang,” Yi Xiao said, weighing the bow.
Her face drained of color. She clutched at Feng Qishan, trembling. “What are you going to do…”
Gasps filled the hall. Feng Suige leapt forward, but Yi Xiao had already drawn the bow to full. Guards pressed an arrowhead against his back, attendants shielded the King and consorts, and one shouted, “Put down the bow immediately!”
“His Majesty just said it was allowed.” Yi Xiao’s hand was steady, utterly ignoring the sharp point pressed against his back. “I ask Consort Zhuang to step away from His Majesty. If there’s any mishap, I fear I could not bear the responsibility.”
Feng Suige, who had rushed forward, glared at him. Knowing Yi Xiao’s unyielding nature, he could only turn toward the upper seats. Feng Qishan’s expression remained calm as he raised his hand, signaling the hall to remain still. “What do you intend to do to Consort Zhuang?”
“Five arrows, five golden flowers,” Yi Xiao replied simply. “If I harm Consort Zhuang, I’ll forfeit my life without complaint.”
“Good!” “No!” Feng Qishan and Feng Suige’s voices clashed in unison.
The hall fell into silence.
The palace attendants slowly withdrew to their places. The guard holding the arrows hesitated, then lowered his hand.
The veins on Feng Suige’s neck bulged as he clenched his jaw. At last, he exhaled heavily and stepped aside.
Under Feng Qishan’s piercing gaze, Consort Zhuang rose trembling, her coquettish airs gone, replaced by the pitiful look of one awaiting execution.
“One,” Yi Xiao counted cheerfully, though his bowstring remained still. Suddenly, Consort Zhuang’s knees buckled, and she collapsed in tears.
Just as Feng Qishan prepared to rebuke her, the bowstring twanged. The arrow shot forth like lightning, slicing through her ornate hairdo and knocking free a golden flower.
The hall froze in dead silence.
The guard behind Yi Xiao stood stunned. After a long pause, he placed the second arrow into Yi Xiao’s waiting hand.
“Stand up quickly,” Feng Qishan barked. “To be frightened to such a state—how useless.”
Consort Zhuang was so terrified she could barely move. With the attendants’ help, she finally staggered upright.
Before they could release her, Yi Xiao loosed another arrow. With a sharp snap, the second golden flower fell. Yi Xiao’s lips curved faintly. “Two,” he said, accepting the third arrow.
“Your… Your Majesty,” an attendant stammered, “Consort Zhuang has… fainted.”
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