The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

After shouting "Long live the Emperor!"

Emperor Chu walked to the throne, his gaze sweeping across the crowd before landing on Chu Qingyao's veiled face. He frowned slightly and asked, "Yao'er, what happened to your face?"

Chu Qingyao hurriedly lowered her head: "Your Majesty, I... have not yet healed my old wounds, and I fear I may disturb Your Majesty's countenance, so I have covered my face with a veil."

The Empress said softly, "Let the imperial physician take another look later. A young lady's face is very precious; we can't let it leave a scar."

"Yes, thank you for your concern, Father and Mother." Chu Qingyao's voice was gentle, but her hands, hidden in her sleeves, were clenched into fists, her nails digging deeply into her palms.

The Emperor and Empress took their seats, and Si Chen also took his seat, which was diagonally opposite Chu Qingyue.

The Emperor of Chu raised his cup, his voice booming like a bell: "Today, we celebrate the triumphant return of the Grand Princess of our Great Chu, her unparalleled achievements, and the glory of our nation! Let us drink this cup to the brim!"

The assembled officials cheered and raised their cups in celebration.

However, amidst the clinking of glasses, countless gazes subtly swept over the eldest princess, who sat regally like a fiery red lotus—awe, apprehension, scheming, and fear swirled beneath the lavish praise.

Chu Qingyue held the cup, the wine swirling gently in the glass between her fingers, reflecting the icy coldness in her eyes.

She tilted her head slightly, drank it all in one gulp, her movements displaying the crispness honed by the North, her neck line graceful yet taut with a steely curve.

The wine entered her throat, igniting a burning, illusory warmth, but it couldn't warm the icy abyss in her heart that had accumulated for seven years.

Her gaze seemed to casually sweep over Si Chen, who was diagonally opposite her.

Si Chen also raised his glass, his movements fluid and graceful, a demeanor etched into his very bones over four hundred years.

He looked down at the amber light in his glass, not at her, as if all the noise, the probing, and even her almost tangible gaze were nothing more than fleeting clouds passing over a mountaintop, leaving no trace.

Only the faint red pinch marks on her neck, under the palace lanterns, became the sole flaw, proving that the deity had been desecrated by mortals.

Chu Qingyue suddenly chuckled softly, her voice not loud, but just enough to drown out the empty toasts nearby.

She tilted her head back and downed the second glass of wine in one gulp. The liquor was spicy, burning her throat, yet she felt a strange pleasure. This pain, at least, was real.

She put down her cup and glanced at Chu Xuanche, who sat below the throne.

The newly crowned "heir apparent" was beaming with pride, receiving a flood of flattery from all directions.

He had clearly recovered from the shock of finding the head beside his bed in the early morning, or rather, he was so overwhelmed by the ecstasy of the impending "crown prince" position that even the lingering fear in his eyes had been scorched into a blazing fire of ambition.

His occasional glances at Chu Qingyue were a mixture of jealousy, fear, and a sinister "I'll get you sooner or later" attitude.

Chu Qingyue picked up the third cup of wine, raising it towards Chu Xuanche in the distance. Her smile deepened, but her eyes remained devoid of any warmth.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty! You have received the Imperial Preceptor's golden words, and the Mandate of Heaven has decreed upon you. May Your Majesty... secure your position as Crown Prince."

Chu Xuanche's smile froze for a moment, then he picked up his wine cup and forced a smile, saying, "Ninth Princess, you jest. I will need your strong support in the future to protect the Great Chu empire."

He said it politely, but his hand holding the glass trembled almost imperceptibly, and the wine rippled slightly.

"Provide your full support?" Chu Qingyue repeated these four words, as if savoring something interesting.

She smiled without speaking, tilting her head back to drink the third cup in one gulp. The spiciness entered her stomach, transforming into a cold fire in her heart. Help you?

Naturally, I will "help" you, help you see the white bones beneath these nine-layered palaces as soon as possible, help you taste the feeling of falling from the clouds. Help you... experience what true despair is.

The music resumed, and the dancers entered gracefully, their flowing sleeves billowing, their waists supple like willows, their eyes as alluring as spring water.

During the meal, people toasted and laughed, as if the hanging of the head at the West Gate, the Fifth Princess's terror, and the ghostly wails at the First Prince's residence were nothing more than a gentle breeze in the summer, which would dissipate as soon as it passed.

Chu Qingyue leaned back on the seat covered with ice silk cushions, her fingertips tapping the table idly.

She appeared languid, but in reality, every sense of her body was taut, clearly capturing every subtle glance, every hushed conversation, and every fleeting change in expression.

She could sense the pinpoint scrutiny and displeasure beneath the Empress's seemingly kind gaze;

You can hear several veterans from three dynasties at the next table, covering their mouths while drinking, muttering: "When a hen crows at dawn, the country is about to fall into chaos... Women interfering in politics is ultimately not a good omen."

She could catch a glimpse of the Third Prince, Chu Xuanjing, drinking alone, his posture relaxed, but beneath his half-closed eyelids, his gaze was as deep as an ancient well, occasionally glancing at her with calculation and scheming.

He was weighing his options, observing, and searching for... an opportunity.

And then there's Pei Yu. That number one young master of the capital has been very quiet since he took his seat. He just drinks his wine quietly, his gaze occasionally falling on the dancing girls in the room, or inadvertently glancing in their direction.

His gaze towards her was complex, containing scrutiny of an unknown force, curiosity about a legendary woman, and perhaps, a faint hint of something he himself didn't even realize—a mixture of amazement and apprehension.

His younger sister, Pei Jiaojiao, sat in the women's section, occasionally glaring at him. Her arrogant anger had not subsided, and her pink cheeks were puffed out. However, when she met Chu Qingyue's cold gaze, she quickly looked away as if she had been burned, only daring to grit her teeth secretly when she lowered her head.

Chu Qingyue took it all in. Beneath the frozen surface of her heart, a silent undercurrent surged, carrying bloody memories and mad thoughts.

After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere was deliberately hyped up, becoming increasingly lively, with the air filled with the smell of alcohol, the fragrance of cosmetics, and a kind of frivolous joy.

The Empress's eyes flickered as she whispered a few words to the Emperor of Chu. When she looked up again, her face was filled with a mother's tenderness and worry.

"Your Majesty," she sighed softly, her gaze falling on Chu Qingyue, her eyes filled with affection that was almost overflowing with tenderness.

"Qingyue spent seven whole years in Beiming... she must have suffered endless torment and hardship. Now that Heaven has taken pity on her and she has returned home, we, as her parents, must do everything in our power to make amends. Our first priority is to find her a good husband and a stable home to comfort her for all the suffering she has endured over the years."

She turned to Chu Qingyue, her smile gentle.

"Yue'er, you're not young anymore. Tell your mother, all these years in Beiming... or now that you've returned to the capital, have you found a man you like?"

She paused, her voice becoming even gentler, yet each word was like a knife:

"No matter who the other party is, as long as Yue'er is happy, your mother... will definitely make the decision for you."

The hall was deathly silent.

"He suffered greatly."

"Seven years in the Northern Underworld".

"The man I admire".

Every word was like poison coated in honey. Who didn't know the Northern Barbarians were cruel and lustful? Who didn't know what awaited women forced into marriage? Seven years... more than two thousand days and nights. A noble princess, fallen into such a place, how many men did she change hands with?

Is she still clean? Can she still...have children? How could I marry such a troublesome woman?

She was the eldest princess who protected the country, whose achievements overshadowed the emperor, and whose murderous aura was awe-inspiring.

If you marry her, forget about taking a concubine; you'll probably be gouged out if you even glance at another woman.