Great Zhou World
"System, why does the heroine look like she wants to assassinate me? Wasn't that just me saving the damsel in distress?" Ning Yangyang suddenly felt like an unfounded barrier had appeared between her and Nangong Xizhi. As the saying goes, people's hearts are often separated by their stomachs, but the prejudice between them was a mountain of prejudice.
"Host, I have reminded you before, never forget your identity. You are the hero's sister, who knows if you have good intentions?"
"I have bad intentions? If I hadn't protected her, the sweet and soft heroine would have become a little cake in Xiao Ziyi's mouth long ago."
"Host, you are still inexperienced. Please forgive me for this ancient political conspiracy."
"Haha, there's no conspiracy, it's all overt."
"Nangong, I'm different from that person outside. I'm sincere to you." Ning Yangyang's voice was high, a smile inevitable on her face. These words were genuine, but Nangong Xi wasn't used to this face being so close, nor could she discern this close heart. Blood is thicker than water, a bond that no one can sever. Perhaps this had all been a play played out by their siblings, just to tease her. Why all this fuss?
Silence is the best tacit understanding. Never mind. Ning Yangyang disdains to imitate those men who only use words to deceive and coax people. It is better to do more practical things. What she should do is to help Nangong Xi escape from the sea of suffering as soon as possible.
"Host, your top priority is the Oiran Contest. Bingo, reach a 50% love rate."
"Wait, you mean that guy out there is relying on his fantasy to max out his love ratio? How disgusting. Luckily, my heroine baby is standing still. But right now, he should be thinking about how to assassinate me."
The Oiran Competition, scheduled for three days later, arrived as planned. Tonight, the Moon-Lanyue Pavilion was ablaze with lights, as bright as day. Layers of glazed palace lanterns, gilded gauze lanterns, and revolving lanterns illuminated the carved beams and painted buildings, the soaring eaves and brackets with dazzling brilliance. The air was thick with the rich, sweet aroma of cosmetics, the crisp scent of wine, and the rich, interwoven fragrance of various precious incense, making one feel slightly dizzy.
The lobby downstairs was already packed. Dignitaries in splendid attire, pretentious scholars, wealthy merchants spending lavishly, and even the well-informed common people, all crowded together, their necks stretched out. Upstairs, behind half-drawn pearl curtains, the elegant rooms revealed the faint silhouettes of more distinguished guests, while maids, carrying flasks of fine wine, glided lightly between them.
In front of the lobby, a wide, elevated platform covered in a scarlet velvet carpet rose from the ground. This was the "Splendid Stage," where today's beauties competed for attention. Seated at the side of the stage were several elegant, white-haired, elderly men. They were among the city's most respected masters of calligraphy and painting, masters of rhythm, and a retired Hanlin, who served as today's "Master of Appraisal" and held the "Flower Chips" that would determine the winner of the most beautiful flower.
Ning Yangyang had leveraged her exceptional connections to secure the last spot on stage. Nangong Xi had been dragged here by her. She had a premonition that if Nangong Xi strayed even a step away from her, some ungrateful, dirty dog would bite him. The tea on the table changed cup after cup, and the people in the lobby changed, but it was almost Ning Yangyang's turn.
Ning Yangyang practically carried out the farce of the Oiran Contest with her toes. The system insisted she earn the title of "Oiran Contest Champion," simply to foster a relationship between her and the official match. She sported the original owner's radiant face, dressed in elaborate, cumbersome attire, and played a tuneless guzheng on stage. Fortunately, the system provided live audio, dubbing, and her own transcendent performance. There were also AI-powered chess techniques and printed copies of Yan Zhenqing's authentic works, not to mention painting.
Ning Yangyang officially took first place. It was euphemistically called "unconventional and ingenious." The pretentious dignitaries in the audience actually clapped their hands until they reddened, forcing the top-ranked peony crown onto her. Ning Yangyang accepted the heavy crown with a perfectly proper fake smile, but inwardly she was furiously complaining to the system: "See? This is the pinnacle of 'perfunctory'! I can fool everyone with just 30% of my power. Next time there's a task like this, please let me know in advance so I can prepare a more perfunctory version that's guaranteed to be a real eye-catcher!"
Ning Yangyang rolled her eyes internally, shoved the flower crown into the hand of the maid next to her, and waved lazily, ready to slip away "elegantly" amidst the infatuated gazes. Dealing with this kind of situation was even more tiring than actually fighting.
Suddenly, a burst of hurried, deliberately subdued footsteps approached from afar, shattering the tranquility of the Moon-Raising Pavilion. The people beneath the stage silently bowed and stepped aside, clearing a path.
The man who arrived was Zhang Dehai, the emperor's most trusted eunuch. He wore a deep purple dragon robe, his face was pale and beardless, his eyes sharp as an eagle's. He walked with a steady gait, his hands respectfully holding a bright yellow brocade scroll. Embroidered with clouds and dragons in gold thread, the scroll shone brightly in the fading light, a symbol of unquestionable imperial authority.
Zhang Dehai walked into the pavilion, stopped, and looked at Ning Yangyang with a sharp gaze. He did not salute, but simply raised the imperial edict in his hand slightly. His sharp and penetrating voice echoed in the empty pavilion, with a kind of formulaic solemnity:
"The imperial edict has arrived—Ning Yangyang, receive it!"
Ning Yangyang had long known the outcome, and her identity had brought her a slew of trouble. She turned swiftly, facing Zhang Dehai, and slowly bent her knees, kneeling with a proper and respectful posture on the cold golden brick floor, her forehead lightly touching the back of her hand. Her long skirt spread out behind her like a flower, momentarily silent.
"Your humble servant Ning Yangyang respectfully listens to the imperial edict." Her voice was clear and there was no emotion in it.
Zhang Dehai unfolded the imperial edict. The bright yellow scroll unfolded in the twilight, the ink clearly visible. He read it in an emotionless, flat voice, each word like ice beads falling on a jade plate:
"The Emperor, by the grace of Heaven and the Mandate of Heaven, proclaims: Here is Princess Ning Yangyang, of distinguished family, of virtuous character, virtuous and graceful, gentle and exemplary. Crown Prince Xiao Yuhuan, the heir apparent, is gifted with wisdom and renowned for his benevolence and filial piety. The two are of similar age, well-matched in character and appearance, a match made in heaven, a marriage forged long ago. I have personally reviewed this and am deeply moved. I hereby grant you a marriage, a match made in heaven, to strengthen the foundation of the state and to strengthen the family line. I direct the Imperial Astronomical Observatory to select an auspicious date, and the Ministry of Rites to prepare the six rituals, to be announced to the world for all to know. You shall faithfully follow the virtuous example, cultivate the virtues of a wife, assist the Crown Prince, and jointly uphold the ancestral temple. This is my decree!"
The pavilion was deathly silent. The evening breeze blew by, lifting a strand of hair from her temple and brushing against her instantly pale cheek. "System, can we just skip this boring romance? According to the plot, isn't the title of Crown Princess due later? Isn't this telling everyone I'm the chosen winner?"
"It seems that because you rejected someone a few days ago, he was stimulated and asked to marry you."
"Then I'm really grateful to him!"
Zhang Dehai finished reading the imperial edict, closed it, and his eyes fell on Ning Yangyang's drooping hair. His voice remained calm, "Princess, please accept the edict."
Ning Yangyang took a deep breath, the air icy and icy, scraping across her throat. She slowly raised her head, her face a look of respect and submission. She stretched out her hands, her fingertips trembling imperceptibly as they touched the cool, bright yellow scroll, a symbol of the undeniable imperial decree.
"...Your Majesty, your servant... Ning Yangyang, thanks you for your grace." Her voice was still clear, but with a hint of tension that she tried hard to control. Every word seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth. "Long live Your Majesty, long live His Majesty, long live His Majesty." She raised her hands high and took the imperial edict that weighed more than a thousand pounds.
"You don't want to?"
"Having another identity will make things so much more difficult. And don't you notice that person is watching me from behind? If I don't act uncomfortable, he might get over it."
Zhang Dehai's eyes quickly swept over the broken hairpin and the falling pearl, his expression expressionless, as if he hadn't seen anything. He nodded slightly. "Congratulations, Princess! Congratulations, Princess! His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has been waiting in the upper box for a long time." He stepped aside.
Almost as soon as Zhang Dehai finished speaking, a tall, slender figure appeared at the entrance of Lanyue Pavilion, blocking out the last remaining light. Crown Prince Xiao Yuhuan slowly entered. He wore a dark formal robe embroidered with a golden dragon. His features were unparalleled in beauty, his brows radiating an innate dignity and depth. His steps were deliberate, his gaze fixed intently on Ning Yangyang, who knelt to receive the imperial edict, clutching the bright yellow scroll.
He walked a few steps in front of her and stopped, his gaze sweeping across her pale face. An indescribable complexity flashed across his eyes, so quick it was hard to grasp. Then, a perfectly composed, gentle, jade-like smile appeared on his face. He leaned forward, naturally extending his hand toward Ning Yangyang, a wisp of the cool scent of ambergris wafting from his sleeve.
"Princess, please stand up." His voice was low and pleasant, with an unquestionable gentle strength. "The emperor's will is great, and this is a great joyful event. From now on, the princess and I will be people in the same boat." His hand stopped in mid-air, waiting.
Ning Yangyang didn't immediately reach for his hand. Her knuckles were white from gripping the imperial edict, her body still stiff and kneeling, trembling slightly. She looked up and saw calmness in his deep eyes, a composure that seemed to be in control of everything, even a hint of understanding that seemed to have already seen through everything.
Xiao Yuhuan's hand was still extended, full of patience, and the smile on his lips had not diminished in the slightest, but his deep eyes quietly enveloped Ning Yangyang's pale and stubborn face, carrying a kind of silent oppression.
"Oh my god, does this whole family have the gene for plunder? I feel like this system will be eaten alive by him."
Finally, after a few breaths of suffocating silence, Ning Yangyang no longer had the courage to look directly at him. She numbly raised her slightly trembling hand and gently placed it on Xiao Yuhuan's palm.
His palm was dry and warm, and with irresistible force, he firmly grasped her cold fingers and lifted her up from the ground. The touch was like a brand.
Just as she stood up straight and was within striking distance of him, Xiao Yuhuan leaned forward slightly and, in a voice so low that only the two of them could hear, whispered something in her ear that was as light as a sigh but weighed a thousand pounds:
"Yangyang, the emperor's order... is difficult to disobey."
Those five words, like an icy chain, instantly wrapped around her heart, completely breaking down the defenses she had barely built. Ning Yangyang's body trembled violently, almost imperceptibly, and her face turned pale as paper, as if all the blood in her body had frozen in that moment. Her fingers, held by him, were as cold as ice.
Xiao Yuhuan seemed quite satisfied with the scene today, so he didn't linger in Lanyue Pavilion for long, just flirting with her before quickly slipping away. Ning Yangyang, seeing the man's eyes, felt as if she were being forced to play the male and female lead roles. But she had rejected it so bluntly. The original owner didn't have a romantic connection either. Ning Yangyang searched the PDF for stories about Xiao Yuhuan, and they had almost no interaction.
What exactly were they loving? Ning Yangyang frowned, her heart filled with confusion. She had assumed Xiao Yuhuan's sudden "pity" was simply a feeling of sympathy, a misinterpretation of a similarly helpless "kindred spirit" struggling on the brink of power, that it had been misinterpreted as affection. So she was eager to draw a line, hoping to extinguish this inexplicable fire with the coldest distance. However, the logic of a plunderer seemed to have its own twisted system, unable to understand a refusal. The determination in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.
"Host," the metallic electronic voice of the system in my mind rang out, with undisguised disdain, "You were such a coward just now. You weren't like this when you faced that lunatic Qi Yiwen."
Ning Yangyang pursed her lips, her fingertips cold. The night breeze filtering through the window lattice brushed against her cheek, bringing a sense of clarity. She whispered back, a subtle hint of weariness and self-mockery in her voice: "Because... maybe he and I are really alike, deep down. Both of us are fatherless and motherless, drifting alone in this world. That feeling... is so familiar." That loneliness, like an invisible thread, caused a faint resonance to arise deep in her heart when she faced Xiao Yuhuan, a sense of danger.
"Bang-bang-bang-bang—" From outside the window came the long, aged call of the night watchman. Three bangs pierced the silent night. It was still an hour before midnight.
The last trace of confusion in Ning Yangyang's eyes faded away in an instant, replaced by a cold and resolute look. She quickly stood up and walked behind the screen. When she came out again, she was wearing a tight and neat nightgown. The inky fabric blended perfectly with the shadows in the room, outlining her slender but powerful figure. She skillfully hid a silk map as thin as a cicada's wing, which marked the secret passage, against her chest, and the cold touch pressed against her heart. She walked silently to the window and pushed it open a crack. The cold moonlight sprinkled on half of her face, reflecting the taut jawline and a pair of deep and quiet eyes. She turned around, her eyes falling accurately on Nangong Xi, who had been standing quietly in the shadows.
"Nangong," Ning Yangyang's voice was very low, but extremely clear, with an unquestionable order, "I'm going to do something." She paused, locked her eyes sharply into Nangong Xi's, and added: "Remember, the carriage outside the city must be at midnight tonight, and you can't delay for a moment. I have made arrangements for Xiangxiang, and she will wait for you at the agreed place." Her tone was firm, as if she had rehearsed it countless times.
Nangong Xi stood at the intersection of the flickering candlelight and shadows, half her face hidden in the darkness, her expression unclear. She knew what Ning Yangyang was going to do in this black outfit—to assassinate the current Minister of Revenue, Chen Yin, and pin the blame for this heinous crime on the powerful Regent Xiao Ziyi.
Just yesterday, Miss Ning, whose identity was a mystery and whose actions were treacherous, had unsuspectingly rested her head on her lap, her dark hair cascading down like a waterfall. She looked up at her, her eyes, which always held calculation or coldness, now revealed a rare, almost innocent, stubbornness. She coquettishly, yet with a solemn vow, said, "Sister Nangong, believe me. I will deliver you safely to the Western Territory and avenge you! I will not let any of those who have wronged you go unpunished! This is called punishing evil and promoting good, right?"
Is she Xiao Ziyi's biological sister? Can she believe her words? Nangong Xi's heart was torn between ice and fire. This promise was too good to be true, like an elaborate trap. Ning Yangyang's motives and origins were all shrouded in mystery. But deep down, in that corner of his heart, sealed away for too long, a faint voice struggled: Maybe... can I believe again? Just like when he was ten years old, in the abyss of despair, that tiny figure stumbled towards him, carrying her only, faint light - she believed, she found help. It was the only remaining trace of connection between them, a nearly forgotten one.
At that moment, watching Ning Yangyang standing by the window, her nightgown framing her thin yet straight back, she looked like a sharp blade about to be unsheathed, carrying with her a resolute determination to risk everything. Nangong Xi met her gaze silently, finally nodding almost imperceptibly. Her fingers quietly tightened within her sleeves, her knuckles turning slightly white. Whether the path ahead was a path of life or a dead end, whether Ning Yangyang faced redemption or the abyss, it seemed she had no choice but to embark on this ship.
Ning Yangyang, having received the response, no longer hesitated. She took a deep breath, the coolness of the night breeze, like dew, rushing into her lungs. With a light tap of her toes on the window frame, her inky figure, like a lithe yet deadly night owl, silently blended into the thick darkness and darted away towards the Shangshu Mansion, leaving behind only the slightly swaying window and the flickering candlelight inside.
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