That Imperial Concubine is both wicked and cunning! Your Majesty, wake up!

Outside the palace, at the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei.

Zheng Yueyao held the medicine bowl, looking somewhat absent-minded. Her fingertips had just touched the rim of the bowl when she was burned by the scalding medicine and cried out softly.

The old lady leaned against the bedside, gazing at her absent-minded appearance, and asked softly, "Yaoyao, ever since you returned from the palace that day, you've been so distraught. Has something happened?"

Looking at the new white hairs at her mother's temples, Zheng Yueyao hesitated for a long time before finally telling her mother all the things she had been thinking.

Upon hearing this, the old lady's eyes narrowed sharply, and she stared intently at her: "Yaoyao, is what you said true?"

"Mother, at first I also thought it was just a coincidence," Zheng Yueyao said urgently.

"But that Consort Yuan looks seven or eight parts like my sister-in-law! If Nannan were still alive, she would be about the same age as Consort Yuan now. More importantly, I heard that tomorrow is Consort Yuan's birthday! What a coincidence!"

The old lady's withered fingers trembled slightly as she suppressed her surging emotions, sighed slowly, and looked out at the gray sky.

She simply couldn't bear the thought of falling from hope back into despair once again.

"Nannan's birthday is today, but Consort Yuan's birthday is tomorrow."

Her voice was hoarse, "It's only a difference of one day, it may seem like little, but in reality, it's worlds apart. How can you confuse the two?"

Moreover, more than ten years ago, on that cold night, she saw her granddaughter Nannan's face turn blue and purple and she stopped breathing. That scene was etched in her memory. How could she be wrong?

"Mother..." Zheng Yueyao wanted to say something more.

"Alright." The old lady raised her hand and patted the back of her hand. "I know you care about your brother, but this can't be forced. Don't get stuck on this."

Zheng Yueyao felt frustrated and could only sigh softly, "Mother, please rest well. I will take my leave now."

She couldn't believe there were so many coincidences in the world, so after leaving the Marquis's mansion, she wandered aimlessly through the streets.

He had intended to consult a fortune teller, but unexpectedly, he bumped into the King of Chu at the corner.

Zheng Yueyao's heart tightened, and she turned to leave.

"Yueyao." The King of Chu's voice called from behind, tinged with a hint of helplessness.

The King of Chu was only twenty-two years old this year, three years younger than her.

Back then, after she divorced her ex-husband, the King of Chu disregarded societal norms and pursued her with all his heart.

But she had already made it clear that she refused.

She was unwilling to remarry into the royal family, and the royal family would never accept her as a woman who had been married twice.

"Your Highness has misunderstood. I did not see Your Highness just now."

Zheng Yueyao continued walking, her tone distant.

"I have important matters to attend to, so I must take my leave now."

The King of Chu strode forward, blocking her path. "Yueyao, must we be so distant with each other?"

Zheng Yueyao was preoccupied with Consort Yuan's affairs and had no interest in dealing with him, so she looked up and stared directly at him.

"Your Highness, I made myself clear back then. I hope Your Highness will respect yourself."

After saying that, she stepped aside and walked straight away from him.

The King of Chu watched her resolute departure, a self-deprecating bitter smile playing on his lips.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

As night fell, Xiao Yan arrived at the Hidden Winter Pavilion.

Xiao Yan had already changed into a dark blue casual outfit, with moon-white flowing clouds embroidered on the collar and sleeves, and a matching belt around his waist, which made his body look tall and slender. Shedding the aura of the supreme emperor from his dragon robe, he gained a touch of refined elegance and nonchalance.

Song Shuangning smiled and looked him up and down, deliberately drawing out her teasing tone, "Oh, whose young master is this, so handsome?"

Xiao Yan's face darkened slightly, but the tips of his ears quietly blushed.

"They're becoming increasingly unruly."

Seeing this, Song Shuangning smiled and hooked her arm around his neck. "That sounds familiar. So it's the Emperor. The Emperor looks much more approachable in this casual clothes than in his dragon robe. He looks like... the boy next door."

Xiao Yan pinched her face and warned in a deep voice, "Song Shuangning, you don't want to leave the palace, do you?"

"I know I was wrong. I wanted to go." Song Shuangning quickly pretended to be obedient.

It's not her fault; Xiao Yan is indeed quite handsome. If he lived in modern times, he would definitely be a hot commodity.

He gestured with his chin toward the clothes in the maid's hands and said to Song Shuangning, "Go and change into these clothes."

"Yes, Your Majesty, please wait a moment." With that, she stepped into the inner palace.

Xiao Yan shook his head helplessly as he watched her retreating figure.

This girl is really spoiled by him; she even dares to flirt with him.

Yet, I just can't bring myself to be angry with her.

"The concubines have been changed."

Song Shuangning walked up to him, wearing a peach-colored silk dress that made her skin look as white as snow. A light yellow belt was tied around her waist. The combination of peach and light yellow made her look more lively and vibrant.

Her hair was styled in a low bun, adorned with a small pink jade peach blossom hairpin with delicate tassels hanging from the head, swaying as she moved, making her look charming and lively.

Xiao Yan's face darkened again.

Looking at his own dark blue casual clothes and then at her peach-colored silk dress, so vibrant and lively, the age difference between the two seemed even greater.

He inexplicably felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he were an older brother, and felt both amused and exasperated, finally letting out a soft sigh.

"Isn't this outfit of mine nice?" Song Shuangning asked when she heard him sigh.

"No, it's very beautiful."

Xiao Yan regretted it; he shouldn't have chosen such a delicate color for her.

But she's suitable.

Xiao Yan was a little annoyed. What was wrong with him today? Was such a small thing worth worrying about?

"Let's go." Xiao Yan took her hand and stepped onto the imperial carriage.

The imperial carriage stopped at the palace gate, and the two boarded another carriage.

Song Shuangning was extremely excited. Having been in the palace for so long, she really missed the atmosphere of the outside world.

Xiao Yan leaned back in the carriage, closing his eyes to rest. Song Shuangning asked, "Your Majesty, are you very tired?"

"Now that you've left the palace, let's change how we address you."

Song Shuangning deliberately asked, "Then, brother?"

Xiao Yan's eyes darkened. "Say it again?"

Song Shuangning sensed the surging desire in Xiao Yan's eyes and was immediately frightened. She was afraid that Xiao Yan would unleash his beastly nature in the carriage.

She shook her head and said with a smile, "This concubine wouldn't dare."

Xiao Yan stretched out his long arm, put his arm around her waist, and pulled her into his arms with a little force, gently stroking her lower back with his palm.

"What? Scared?"

"Isn't Ningning very bold?"

After saying that, he lowered his head and bit Song Shuangning's lower lip, as if punishing her.

"This concubine truly knows she was wrong..."

The streets of Beijing are always bustling with people, lively and bustling.

The carriage slowly came to a stop in an open space at the street corner, and Li Fuquan gently lifted the curtain.

Xiao Yan went down first, then turned around and reached out his hand.

Song Shuangning placed her hand in her palm and walked down gracefully. Her lower lip was slightly swollen and red.

What happened in the carriage just now is self-evident.

Xiao Yan and Song Shuangning walked down the street, one after the other.

Song Shuangning was instantly drawn to the new pastries on the street, and she tugged at Xiao Yan's sleeve.

The vendor smiled and called out, "Young master, would you like to buy some for your sister to try? It's fresh out of the pot, sweet, fragrant, and soft."

Song Shuangning suppressed a laugh as she looked at Xiao Yan.

Xiao Yan's expression hardened, and his brows furrowed in displeasure.

The vendor was puzzled as to why the young man's face suddenly darkened.

It's inexplicable.

The vendor smiled and called out to Song Shuangning, "Miss, would you like to buy one?"

"Then, one order, please."

Song Shuangning took Xiao Yan's hand, her voice sweet and soft: "He's not my brother, he's my..."

"My husband."

As Xiao Yan looked at her profile, the word "husband" struck his heart like a stone.

The vendor hurriedly apologized, "It was my fault for being so blind and causing such a misunderstanding. The two of them are clearly a perfect match, a match made in heaven."

"It's alright."

Xiao Yan coughed, glanced at Li Fuquan, and said, "Hurry up and pay."

"Hey," Li Fuquan handed the silver to the vendor.

Song Shuangning took a bite of the pastry, nodding in delight. Xiao Yan glanced at her and asked, "Is it really that good?"

It seems that the resentment in her heart has not yet dissipated.

Why are you so stingy?

Isn't it just that he's like an older brother? Isn't that right? He's eight years older than her. It's normal for people who don't know the situation to think they're siblings.

However, considering that he took her out of the palace today, she was willing to coax him.

Song Shuangning held the pastry to his lips, her voice gentle, "Husband, have a taste."

Xiao Yan couldn't help but take a small bite and chew slowly.

Song Shuangning opened her round, almond-shaped eyes and asked, "Is it delicious?"

Xiao Yan nodded.

"Is your husband still angry?"

Xiao Yan touched his nose. "I'm not angry."

Oh, still being stubborn.

A large crowd had gathered on the street ahead. Song Shuangning, curious, grabbed Xiao Yan's hand and quickly stepped forward.

It was a traveling performer putting on a shadow puppet show, and she had to keep her eyes glued to it.

In ancient times, there were no movies or TV dramas for entertainment, so shadow puppetry became a rare and interesting way to relieve boredom.

As she was engrossed in what she was watching, two drunken men approached from the front, their gazes making her physically uncomfortable.

"Oh, which young lady is this? She's so beautiful."

Song Shuangning frowned and hid behind Xiao Yan.

Xiao Yan grasped the drunk man's restless hand and slowly twisted it outwards.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch."

"Do you know who I am?"

Xiao Yan asked, "Does it matter who you are?"

"My cousin is the current Consort Rong. You, let go of me."

Song Shuangning turned to look at Xiao Yan. What a coincidence, Consort Rong's cousin?

Xiao Yan released his grip and gave Li Fuquan a wink.

Two guards in plain clothes dragged them into a secluded alley, and soon beat them until they were cowering on the ground, no longer daring to be arrogant.

Then, Xiao Yan pulled Song Shuangning into his arms, not letting anyone touch her at all.

They didn't return to the palace until just before the palace gates were locked.

*

Inside the brocade tent.

Xiao Yan held Song Shuangning in his arms, forcing her to call him "brother" over and over again.

Zizheng.

Xiao Yan kissed her lips and whispered in her ear, "Ningning, happy birthday."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Xiao Yan: Readers and fans in front of the screen, do you think I'm old?