Chapter 20: Water Cloud Silk

 Ding Royal Palace

"I understand. You may leave."

In the tranquil and somewhat desolate Water Pavilion, the man in blue robes gazed at the lake outside the window and spoke indifferently, his voice carrying the practiced neutrality of someone who'd learned to feel nothing.

Granny Sun's stern and somewhat severe face flickered with helplessness as she looked at the solitary figure before her, hesitating to speak. In the end, she said nothing and withdrew silently—some stubbornness couldn't be argued with, only endured.

"It seems Granny Sun has a favorable impression of that Third Miss Ye. You know, it's no easy feat to get Granny Sun to speak up for someone." On the other side, Feng Zhiyao, still clad in his flamboyant attire, lounged lazily as he teased his close friend—poking at wounds disguised as indifference.

Mo Xiuyao turned to look at him, his gaze calm and gentle—too calm, too gentle. "So what?"

"So what?!" Feng Zhiyao sat up abruptly, his usually languid voice rising sharply with frustration. "Xiu Yao, Third Miss Ye is your future wife, the one who will spend her life with you. Aren't you even going to see her?"

"If she's truly as remarkable as you say, do you think... they would let me marry her so easily? Have you forgotten the Xu family behind her?" Mo Xiuyao replied evenly, each word measured—reason as armor.

"What do you mean?" Feng Zhiyao frowned, confusion giving way to understanding. "Are you saying they might play some tricks?"

Mo Xiuyao lowered his eyes, quietly observing his hands resting on the wheelchair's armrests—the hands that no longer controlled legs. "On the day Prince Li's Palace sent the betrothal gifts, Consort Xian Zhao summoned Ye Li specifically."

Feng Zhiyao scoffed disdainfully. "Don't tell me Mo Jingli regrets it now? Even if he does, so what? Does he really think the Ding Royal Palace and the Xu family are playthings he can manipulate at will?"

A faint chill flickered in Mo Xiuyao's deep yet gentle eyes—ice beneath still water. "The marriage annulment was Mo Jingli's own doing—he acted first and sought approval later. Back then... when the late emperor arranged Ye Li's betrothal to Mo Jingli, it wasn't without reason. At the time of Ye Li's birth, Ye Wenhua was merely a newly risen third-rank official. How could the late emperor choose such a lowly family as the principal consort for his beloved prince? Naturally, it was for the sake of Ye Li's maternal grandfather's family, the Xus. Unfortunately, over the years, the Xu family gradually withdrew from court affairs, making most people forget just how much influence they wield."

"If that's the case, why would the emperor betroth Third Miss Ye to you?"

"If Third Miss Ye were truly talentless, plain, and lacking virtue—and on top of that, had been rejected in marriage—why wouldn't the emperor betroth her to me?" Mo Xiuyao countered lightly, the self-deprecation so casual it hurt more than bitterness would.

Feng Zhiyao shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes held sympathy. "Well, the imperial family's minds are never quite normal anyway. So, are you going to the Peony Garden or not? Will you meet your fiancée?"

Mo Xiuyao turned back to gaze silently at the lake—the answer written in his stillness.

Watching him, Feng Zhiyao nodded subtly in understanding, frustration warring with compassion. Ever since that incident, Xiu Yao had grown increasingly stubborn—building walls from what should have been doors.

---

Ye Li rubbed her temples as she looked at the fully laden table before her, overwhelmed by luxury made manifest. The sizable surface was divided into two sides, each displaying a set of garments and matching accessories. On the left was a white gown adorned with blue floral patterns, where pale butterflies seemed to dance upon the snow-like fabric. Sunlight streaming through the window cast an illusion of the butterflies fluttering to life—artistry indistinguishable from magic.

Jing'er and Tian'er carefully held up the dress, with the youngest, Tian'er, exclaiming in wonder, "These butterflies aren't even embroidered—how beautiful!"

Qing Xia smiled with the knowledge of someone who understood value. "This is kesi, an extremely luxurious silk tapestry. Most kesi designs are ornate, but something as elegantly understated as this is even rarer. And the threads seem extraordinary too. The fabric feels weightless yet doesn't appear flimsy at all—definitely not ordinary material."

Qing Shuang glanced curiously between the left and right sides before tilting her head at Ye Li. "Both the gifts from your aunt and King Ding are exquisite. Which will you choose, Miss?"

Ye Li studied the snow-white kesi gown with blue butterflies, a gift from her aunt, before shifting her gaze to the brocade box on the right. Inside lay a pale cyan Water Cloud Silk dress embroidered with subtle yet intricate silver peony patterns. Delicate auspicious clouds traced the cuffs and hem, simple yet refined, exuding an effortless elegance and comfort—wealth whispered rather than shouted.

"This one," Ye Li decided promptly. "Store the kesi gown from my aunt carefully—I'll wear it for my uncle's birthday next month." While paying attention to attire was necessary, wasting too much time on it wasn't—practicality governing even luxury.

The maids swiftly and carefully packed away the white-and-blue butterfly gown, then brought out the ensemble from the Ding Royal Palace to help Ye Li change.

Moments later, she emerged from behind the screen to the awed murmurs of her attendants. The soft cyan hue perfectly complemented her serene and graceful demeanor, while the delicate silver embroidery kept the simple design from appearing plain. A quiet kind of luxury, Ye Li mused inwardly. Even in decline, the Ding Royal Palace's gifts were extraordinary—sending messages through silk.

"Is this Water Cloud Silk?!" Jingwen, who had been standing aside without much to do, suddenly gasped in astonishment that bordered on alarm.

Qing Xia's expression mirrored shock, understanding dawning. "Mandarin Duck Brocade, Water Cloud Silk, and Hibiscus Gauze—these are Nanzhao's Three Treasures, among the kingdom's most prized specialties. They're never traded commercially, only exchanged as diplomatic gifts between nations each year. And as the foremost of the three, Water Cloud Silk yields no more than ten bolts annually, even for the imperial palace."

Ye Li glanced at Jingwen with an amused smile. "You've got quite the discerning eye."

Jingwen's expression changed slightly as she forced a smile and said, "This servant has only seen it once at the Fourth Young Lady's place. It was bestowed upon the Fourth Young Lady by Zhaoyi Niangniang." She had indeed seen it at the Fourth Young Lady's residence, but it wasn't a garment—just a silk handkerchief. Although Water Cloud Silk was named as such, it differed from the usual luxurious and heavy satin. Instead, it was light and elegant, and unless one looked closely at the hidden intricate patterns, it was impossible to tell it was Water Cloud Silk. Last year, the Fourth Young Lady, Ye Ying, had received a piece of Water Cloud Silk as a reward from Ye Zhaoyi, but it wasn't enough to make a dress. Ye Ying couldn't bear to use it and had it carefully stored away—treasure too precious to wear, now eclipsed.

Ever since that day when Jingwen had taken the liberty of bringing someone into Qingyi House without prior notice, Ye Li hadn't said anything, but Jingwen had been treading carefully, afraid that the Third Young Lady would find an excuse to punish her. She hadn't expected her momentary surprise to catch Ye Li's attention now—guilt making her careless.

Ye Li nodded and paid no further mind to the uneasy Jingwen, turning instead to sit before the bronze mirror. Qing Xia and Qing Shuang held up the accessories sent by the Ding Royal Palace, selecting suitable ones to style her hair with practiced efficiency.

Jingwen stood quietly in a corner, feeling awkward and resentful as she watched the maids working efficiently. Her gaze fell on the casually placed jewelry box on the table, and she quickly lowered her head, not daring to look further—envy and fear mixing into something dangerous. Unbeknownst to her, Ye Li, seated before the mirror, had caught her unguarded expression—cataloging threats as naturally as breathing.

With deft hands, Qing Shuang inserted the final jade hairpin into Ye Li's hair and smiled in satisfaction. "Miss, you will surely outshine all the noble ladies in the capital today."

"Don't talk nonsense. If others hear this, they'll laugh themselves to death," Ye Li chided softly, casting a glance at the confident Qing Shuang—though without real rebuke.

Qing Shuang blinked playfully and grinned. "In Qing Shuang's eyes, Miss is the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Beauty isn't important—just looking presentable is enough." Once everything was in place, Ye Li stood up and said, "Let's go. We shouldn't be late."

Qing Shuang and Qing Xia quickly followed behind her. Qing Shuang couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "I wonder if Prince Ding will attend the Hundred Flowers Festival."

Qing Xia glanced at Ye Li walking ahead and whispered, "The Hundred Flowers Festival is a gathering for the noble young ladies of the capital. Although they invite some distinguished guests every year, Prince Ding has never attended before."

Never attended, Ye Li thought, but didn't say. She wondered what kind of man her future husband was—generous enough to send silk reserved for empresses, yet distant enough to remain a mystery.

In the Water Pavilion across the city, Mo Xiuyao still gazed at the lake, wondering what kind of woman his future wife was—remarkable enough to earn Granny Sun's approval, yet cursed enough to be given to a crippled prince.

They would meet eventually.

But not today.