Chapter 57 Beauty Pageant or Imperial Concubine Selection? I lowered my head slightly, staring at my toes...
Just as they were about to slip towards the gate, suddenly, a group of fully armed armored guards stormed in from outside.
I was terrified and jumped into the bushes to hide without thinking.
The leading guard was tall and imposing, standing at 190 cm, so tall and strong that it made one dizzy.
He led his guards and strode up to the ornate old woman, speaking arrogantly and coolly: "Madam, we have received a report that you are hiding a wanted criminal here."
The singing and dancing suddenly stopped, and everyone was stunned.
The elegant old woman forced herself to remain calm and said, "Sir, you must be mistaken." Her voice was strangely pleasant, old yet melodious.
She must have been a womanizer in the entertainment industry.
“No mistake.” The lead guard’s voice was also slightly magnetic and pleasant.
"Then I need to see your search warrant." The flamboyant old woman showed no fear.
The lead guard suddenly and swiftly removed his armor and threw down his helmet. All the guards did the same.
I was stunned, and everyone else stared wide-eyed as well.
These guards had stripped down to just their briefs, revealing their muscular physiques, broad shoulders, narrow waists, sexy buttocks, and strong, powerful chests.
More importantly, his face, his face, his face—he's incredibly handsome.
The lead guard was the best of the best; his face was more alluring than a vixen's, captivating all women, and his muscular physique was so stunning it made women gasp in amazement.
“Madam, you have indeed hidden a wanted criminal,” the head guard said solemnly. “You have hidden all the most beautiful women in the city, and the most beautiful of them dares to sit right in front of me.”
The glamorous old woman laughed and hugged him tightly, "My darling, you scared me half to death!" The whole audience screamed and laughed, and the music started again.
The gigolos raised their glasses to the ladies again, and the women burst into laughter once more.
"This is a surprise from His Majesty the Prime Minister." The lead guard pulled the elegant old woman into his arms, teasing her earlobe with his finger. "Do you like it?"
The old woman was a veteran of the pleasure quarters; she stood on tiptoe and, like a domineering CEO, fiercely kissed his lips…
"Wow, they really know how to play this game. Uniform fetish!" I exclaimed as I slipped towards the door, only to find another group of women in sheer veils pouring in.
Today might be an inauspicious day for travel. In my panic, I bumped into the woman in the lead. A delicate, pitiful cry rang out, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
"Hey, I knew someone was missing." The woman in the lead rubbed her forehead where she'd been bumped and glared at me angrily. "So that's where they were hiding."
To my horror, I discovered that the style of the sheer fabric I was wearing was exactly the same as theirs—off-the-shoulder, asymmetrical neckline, long sleeves, and a skirt that only reached my knees.
Before I could even react, two women in thin veils jumped out from the line and dragged me to the back without a word.
"I'll settle the score with you later," the woman in the lead glared at me.
I wanted to explain, but I found myself speechless and was helplessly dragged along with the group.
Bypassing the bustling garden, walking through the wine-scented corridor, and climbing the spiral wooden staircase, one enters a beautiful hall on the second floor.
Giant crystal candlesticks, exquisite blue wallpaper, gleaming blue-patterned floor tiles, and a luxurious and elegant fireplace.
I couldn't help but glance at the fireplace a few more times, wondering if someone's soul was attached to it. Of course, I was just overthinking it; not everyone could be attached to a fireplace, otherwise the world would have become a spirit long ago.
"Please wait a moment, everyone. Madam will be up shortly," the woman in the lead announced loudly.
The women stood quietly, offering no response.
I stood at the end of the line, completely bewildered, not knowing what fate awaited me.
Ten minutes later, a familiar, aged yet playful laugh rang out, "This time, the Prime Minister truly deserves a good reward; this man was simply too delicious."
Before the laughter had even subsided, the glamorous old woman from the garden banquet was helped in by five or six sexy young girls.
Upon seeing them, the women immediately bowed in greeting.
I followed suit and copied it.
The elegant old woman sat in a large, comfortable armchair and accepted the teacup handed to her by the woman at the head of the table. "Are they all daughters of noble families? Don't let any commoners sneak in."
"Yes," the woman in the lead replied respectfully. "You can rest assured."
“Alright,” the elegant old woman smiled. “Let’s begin.”
Two girls in sheer veils stepped out from the front of the line; one began to sing, the other to dance. Their melodious voices and graceful movements created a truly pleasing sensory experience.
But I didn't enjoy it; instead, I was filled with doubt and uncertainty, wondering what their purpose was in performing like this.
When the song ended, the dance also stopped. The elegant old woman frowned slightly, waved her hand, and dismissed them.
I could clearly feel that the girls in the sheer dresses in the front row had become nervous. What were they afraid of?
The third girl in the veil stepped out of the group, bowed to the gorgeous old woman, and then sat down in front of a tall golden harp to play a piece of music.
Although I don't understand music, I could tell she played with great care. The melody was melodious and pleasant, radiating a joyful vitality that felt like a gentle breeze.
The elegant old woman listened and nodded slightly. After she finished playing, the woman in the lead ordered her to be taken away.
I suddenly realized that I might be being selected as a concubine, a beauty pageant, or whatever—basically, being picked and chosen.
I was suddenly at a loss for words, both laughing and crying.
It seems like I'm really like the heroine of a romance novel, about to show off my talents and win the championship.
But I might be the most useless female lead, because I don't have any talents.
I know nothing about singing, dancing, or music. Although I have some knowledge of poetry and lyrics, it is really unacceptable to plagiarize other people's work. Besides, the people here may not appreciate the poetry from our region.
Just as I was lost in thought, the fourth veiled girl appeared. She played the bagpipes, which were very beautiful and filled the entire hall with a warm and wonderful feeling, making me forget the crisis at hand for a moment.
As the song ended, the fifth, sixth, and seventh girls in sheer veils took turns performing, singing, reciting poetry, and dancing with swords—they were truly masters of all trades.
I was filled with anxiety. How was I supposed to live like this?
After the eleventh girl in the sheer veil finished playing the piano, I was pushed forward as if I were being forced into a corner and stood in front of the glamorous old woman.
She waited for a while, and seeing that I didn't make any move, she looked at the woman in the lead with a puzzled expression.
The woman at the head of the group walked quickly over and whispered in my ear, "If you resist, none of your younger brothers will have a good ending."
I was taken aback for a moment, and then she whispered, "If Madam gets angry, she will kill them all."
Since lives are at stake, I have to be careful, even though I don't know these younger brothers.
The woman at the head of the group looked at my expression, breathed a slight sigh of relief, and said obsequiously to the glamorous old woman, "Madam, she's just a little nervous."
"Alright, hurry up." The glamorous old woman yawned, even her gesture of covering her mouth was very elegant.
The woman in the lead urged me with her eyes again, and I braced myself and said, "I'm sorry, I can't sing or dance, nor can I play music or perform sword dances. If you don't mind, I'm willing to recite something."
"Recite?" The gorgeous old woman and the woman in the lead were both stunned.
"What do you mean?" the woman in the lead asked.
"Give me a poem, and I can memorize it in a short time."
“We don’t have the patience to listen to you recite poetry,” the woman in the lead said, displeased.
The other girls in sheer veils laughed out loud, and one of them couldn't help but say, "Princess Yanni would never like such a boring bookworm."
Princess Yanni? That name sounds so familiar.
The glamorous old woman squinted at me, scrutinizing me subtly.
I didn't like that look in your eyes, so I just kept my head down.
The elegant old woman's calm voice came, "Alright, give her a poem, she must memorize it within 15 minutes."
A short while later, a long poem was handed to me.
I wanted to cry but couldn't.
Having studied literature, I am very sensitive to words. Memorizing a text or a few poems in a short time is not difficult, but memorizing a long poem is somewhat challenging.
Looking at their cold and indifferent faces, I knew there was no room for negotiation, so I had no choice but to force myself to memorize.
Half an hour passed quickly, and the parchment in my hand was taken away. The old woman's teacup was also empty, and the woman in the lead respectfully poured her another cup.
My heart pounded, but I still began to recite: "My southern border, my heart; my southern border, my mother. You are our cradle, and the resting place of our souls; the birds that fly in the sky are your devout messengers, the fish that swim in the water are your loyal companions..."
After memorizing five or six sections, I was already finding it difficult, and this song, "Mother of the South," has a full fifteen sections.
"..." I got stuck.
The women chuckled softly, the woman in the lead looking at me mockingly, while the glamorous old woman remained expressionless.
“My Southern Border, you are my mother, and even more so, my friend. I embrace you, kiss you, and bid you farewell. No matter where I am, my childlike heart will never fade.”
After getting stuck, I just made it up on the spot.
"When I am happy, when I am sad, when I am blinded by pain and sorrow, I will always remember that you are always waiting for me in the same place."
...
So I just improvised, and after finishing the last paragraph, the hall was completely silent.
The woman in the lead looked at me expressionlessly, while the gorgeous old woman slowly said, "She has a poor memory and is bad at writing poetry, but her ability to adapt to situations is still acceptable, and she didn't just sit and wait to die."
I lowered my head slightly, staring at my toes, unsure whether it was a good or bad omen.
Fifteen minutes later, I was led into a simple little room, so simple that there was only a makeshift bed on the floor.
“Listen carefully,” the woman in the lead said to me, “starting today, you will receive a three-day instruction on court etiquette.”
I nodded.
The woman at the head of the group looked at me with disdain. "You think you've passed the preliminary selection? No, there's still Princess Yani to go through. If you're not chosen, go home and marry an illegitimate child. Of course, you are an illegitimate child to begin with, so marrying an illegitimate child is perfect for you."
The door was slammed shut.
I sat cross-legged on the floor and first thought about what she meant by marrying a bastard, but I couldn't figure it out. Then I started to sort out my current situation: First, I came to the Southern Territory; second, I was treated as a bastard daughter of a noble family; third, I had to undergo relevant training to enter the palace.
So here's the question: what am I doing in the palace?
Carefully recalling everything that had happened before, as well as the talents of the other three veiled girls who passed the preliminary selection—harp playing, sword dancing, and painting—I suspect that we were chosen to be the princess's playmates or, in other words, talented maids.
I've read history books, and I know that being a maidservant to a royal woman wasn't something just anyone could do; it required exceptionally talented noble ladies or wives selected from the homes of high-ranking officials and nobles.
So, were we chosen to be Princess Yani's maids?
There's a 90% chance it's true.
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Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! Mwah!
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