“Where did you take Tudan Jing just now?” After taking her seat, Gebi leaned affectionately close to Song Qingshu, but her question carried a different tone.

“Guess?” Song Qingshu picked up a cup of wine from the table and took a sip. After all the earlier “exertion”, he was feeling a bit thirsty.

Gebi glanced at Tudan Jing, whose face was still flushed in the distance, and couldn’t help but scoff. “Ugh, you were doing that kind of shameless thing again, weren’t you?”

Song Qingshu chuckled, reaching out to pull her closer. “Are you jealous? If you don’t like it, I won’t seek her out in the future.”

Gebi’s face reddened slightly. “We’re not real husband and wife. Why would I be jealous of what you do?”

“That’s exactly what jealousy sounds like,” Song Qingshu teased. “In that case, I won’t go looking for Tudan Jing anymore.”

“No!” Gebi quickly grabbed his hand. “Have you forgotten your promise to help me get revenge? I’m not jealous—in fact, I’d be happy if you went to her.”

“Not even a little jealous?” Song Qingshu feigned disappointment. “So I’m just a tool for your vengeance in your eyes?”

“That’s not it!” Gebi hurriedly explained. “Actually… I do feel a little uncomfortable.” By the end of her sentence, a faint blush had spread across her cheeks.

Song Qingshu burst into laughter, pulling her into his arms and whispering something into her ear that made her smack his chest in mock indignation.

On the other side of the hall, Wanyan Liang watched Gebi’s playful scolding with a burning desire in his eyes, recalling the way “she” had m0aned beneath him that night. ‘What an exquisite woman.’

Song Qingshu coldly noted the lust in his gaze but paid him no further attention, instead scanning the crowd for the legendary Prince Xu, Wanyan Yong.

With Gebi’s help, he soon spotted the man—handsome, refined, and exuding an innate charisma as he chatted amiably with his companions.

Song Qingshu nodded inwardly. ‘His aura is restrained, his demeanor steady. No wonder Zhao Min is betting on him.’

Though Wanyan Yong appeared cheerful, Song Qingshu detected a trace of unease between his brows. Zhao Min’s sudden disappearance must have him on edge.

His gaze shifted to Wanyan Chongjie, who was also sneaking glances at him. When their eyes met, the girl glared back fiercely. Song Qingshu couldn’t help but sigh—despite adapting to this world, he still wasn’t ruthless enough.

The hall was filled with familiar faces: Marshal and Minister of Works Wanyan Zongxian, Left Chancellor Wanyan Zongmin, Right Chancellor Wanyan Zongben—all of whom he’d met at Pucha Qiucao’s coming-of-age ceremony. Pucha Qiucao was here too, standing beside her father and stealing shy glances at Yang Guo.

Unfortunately, Yang Guo was the epitome of an aloof, brooding hero, ignoring her completely as he drank in solitude.

Song Qingshu shook his head wryly. This kid attracts admirers everywhere he goes. He may seem like a playboy, but deep down, he’s a hopeless romantic, devoted only to Xiao Longnu.

*****

Before long, Emperor Xizong arrived, and the birthday banquet officially began. The ministers rose to offer their congratulations, enduring a series of tedious rituals before finally settling down to enjoy the wine and the graceful dances of the palace maidens.

The banquet served its purpose—easing the tension that had gripped the court. Though the atmosphere remained somewhat solemn, there was now a hint of cheer.

As the music ended, Emperor Xizong waved the performers away and cleared his throat. “On this auspicious day, I have another joyous announcement.”

The crowd looked up in curiosity. 

Even Song Qingshu was intrigued—with the Dynasty beset by internal and external crises, what good news could the Emperor possibly have?

The emperor’s gaze landed on Yang Guo. “Years ago, when Prince Zhao was a guest of the Pucha family, he received word that his daughter-in-law was pregnant. Overjoyed, he arranged a betrothal between the unborn child and the Pucha heir. Sadly, Prince Zhao’s son later died abroad, and his daughter-in-law and grandchild vanished. Heartbroken, Prince Zhao soon passed away, leaving the marriage pact unfulfilled. But Heaven is just—Prince Zhao’s grandson, Bingde, has now returned to claim his birthright. To honor Prince Zhao’s final wish, I shall personally oversee the wedding between Bingde and Qiucao…”

Pucha Qiucao, blushing furiously, buried her face in her mother’s arms while her father, Pucha Ahute, rose to bow. “We thank Your Majesty’s grace!”

A man of his word, Pucha Ahute had never forgotten the old promise, despite his family’s objections. After seeing Yang Guo at his daughter’s ceremony—handsome, capable, and undeterred by his missing arm—he had resolved to proceed, even requesting the emperor’s blessing to silence the doubters.

Emperor Xizong, indebted to the late Prince Zhao Honglie, had readily agreed, choosing this day for a double celebration.

‘This is going to be interesting…’ Song Qingshu mused.

Yang Guo stood and bowed deeply to Pucha Ahute. “Uncle, your kindness humbles me. But I am unworthy of your daughter.”

Pucha Ahute stiffened. Wanyan had assumed Yang Guo would be overjoyed—after all, the Pucha family was prestigious, and Qiucao was both beautiful and virtuous. Yet here he was, refusing outright.

The emperor chuckled, assuming it was mere shyness. “Bingde, we’re family. No need for modesty in matters of the heart.”

Yang Guo bowed again. “Your Majesty and Uncle Pucha have shown me boundless kindness. I would lay down my life for you. But this marriage… I cannot accept.”

Silence fell. 

The emperor’s face darkened like a storm cloud.

Wanyan Liang inwardly cursed. ‘After all the effort I spent bringing him back, grooming him for power—and now he pulls this?!’

Desperate to salvage the situation, he stepped in. “Bingde, Qiucao is beautiful, kind, and your betrothed since birth. Why refuse? Is there some difficulty?”

Yang Guo glanced apologetically at Qiucao. “Miss Qiucao is wonderful. But I already have a wife. I cannot betray her.”

Wanyan Liang blinked. “You’re married?” He’d never heard of this.

After a pause, Yang Guo shook his head. “Not yet. But Longnu and I are pledged to each other. I will marry no one else.”

Wanyan Liang exhaled in relief. “Then there’s no issue! Marry Qiucao first, then take Longnu as a concubine. Given your status, she surely wouldn’t mind.”

Pucha Qiucao pressed her lips together, silent.

Yang Guo, however, remained firm. “Longnu has given me her heart alone. I will do the same. I will wed no one but her.”

Even Wanyan Liang’s expression soured. ‘This fool!’  

As tension thickened, Gebi rose gracefully. “Brother, Qiucao is still young. Must we rush this? Today is your birthday—let’s set aside personal matters for now.”

Others quickly echoed her, giving Emperor Xizong an excuse to back down. He gave a displeased grunt, but his fury was plain to all.

The festive mood was shattered. 

The guests tread carefully, wary of provoking the emperor’s wrath.

From his throne, Emperor Xizong observed their unease, his irritation growing. His gaze fell on Prince Changsheng, Wanyan Yuan, and he recalled Wanyan Liang’s earlier suggestion.

“Prince Changsheng,” he called, “your loyalty to the Great Jin Dynasty has not gone unnoticed. On this day, I wish to honor you. Bring him wine!”

Wanyan Yuan’s pupils shrank. Of all times… Remembering Wanyan Liang’s warning, he had avoided alcohol all evening, only pretending to sip during toasts. Did the emperor notice? Is this a trap?

The emperor’s words—”your loyalty to the Great Jin Dynasty has not gone unnotice”—filled him with dread. As a palace maid presented the cup, his hand trembled uncontrollably.