Reflecting on this, Ji Qingyan fetched an intricately carved rouge box and sat before a bronze mirror, meticulously dressing up. This time, she was determined to make Ji Yanqing willingly fall at her feet.
Lost in her sweet fantasy, she overlooked another possibility.
Last night’s initial snow fell intermittently, pausing at dawn but resuming now, drifting like willow fluff.
Ji Yanqing stood alone in the snow, calculating time. Given Ji Qingyan’s strong empathy, she’d emerge within a quarter-hour.
Time ticked by, yet no sign of her appeared.
If he kept waiting, Auntie Xie would call him for the reunion dinner…
Then, the room’s closed door creaked open.
A breathtaking beauty stepped out. Ji Qingyan wore a sensual red dress, tight and curve-hugging, paired with a scarlet fox-fur coat. The slit skirt revealed her long, pale legs, tempting one to be ensnared.
Her face, lightly powdered, had rosy cheeks like autumn peaches. Her narrow, alluring phoenix eyes shimmered, her dark hair pinned high, flawless as white jade, radiant and enchanting.
“What a stunning heroine! A touch of makeup, and you’re a beauty to sink fish and shame flowers,” Ji Yanqing said, his magnetic voice paired with sword-sharp brows and peach-blossom eyes—seven parts clear, three parts admiring, devoid of lust.
‘Such beautiful eyes…’
Ji Qingyan faltered, nearly tripping on the steps, steadying herself as her senses returned, her dark brows furrowing.
Why no reaction?
Was her charm that lacking?
Or was he feigning calm, secretly stirred?
Caught in self-doubt, she stood frozen, expression dazed.
“Heroine Ji, so splendidly dressed, lips red, cheeks fair. Our friendship tells me you’re celebrating the New Year, but others might think you’re aiming to be my consort,” Ji Yanqing teased, fanning his ivory fan.
“Welcoming the New Year calls for… looking pretty,” Ji Qingyan replied, her pale cheeks flushing like dawn clouds. Wanting to take his offered excuse, she felt reluctant. She stepped lightly to his side.
She was clearly trying to mimic a noble lady’s gait.
The result was passable at best—lacking Xie Lingwan’s innate allure and her own lively charm.
“Does the Heir dislike this Qingyan?” she asked, her eyes crescent, voice soft and coy, lifting her sheer red skirt to reveal her slender, enticing legs.
[What stunning legs! Before this peerless beauty, your heart stirs. On New Year’s Eve, you could deepen your bond, indulging in her delicate feet…]
At this, Ji Yanqing moved, bending slowly.
As Ji Qingyan secretly rejoiced, he carefully straightened her skirt, devoid of impropriety, saying softly, “It’s cold, Heroine. Dress warmly.”
Ji Qingyan responded awkwardly, looking at him adjusting her skirt. Frustration mixed with unexpected guilt.
Storytellers claimed wastrels lusted after beauty, acting aloof until spotting a pretty girl, then turning into shameless dogs with honeyed words, emboldened by a smile.
Yet Ji Yanqing’s gaze was pure, free of desire, unlike the wastrels of tales.
Was he truly a gentleman?
She shook her head, banishing the absurd thought.
Ji Yanqing stood, gently taking her pale, smooth hand, saying earnestly, “The Wei King’s Mansion has its hospitality. As our guest, you’ll never feel wronged. Lady Xie has prepared a feast in the warm pavilion—our reunion dinner.”
Xie Lingwan had mentioned this days ago. Though unfamiliar with Ji Qingyan’s mother, their few meetings and Earl Ji Wencheng’s literary fame warranted this courtesy.
Before he finished, two maids rushed in, curtsying. “Happy New Year, Your Highness. Lady Xie invites you to the banquet.”
“Tell Auntie I’ll depart from my chambers. Not a word changed,” Ji Yanqing said coldly, his gaze icy.
“Yes, Your Highness,” the maids replied, kneeling.
“I’ll see Auntie first. Heroine, come in an hour. Hosts seat first, then guests—mansion rules,” he said.
This “rule” was his invention to hide that he visited Ji Qingyan first.
He left, scaling a wall to his chambers, then followed Xiaochun Lake to Xie’s courtyard.
At Gathering Spirit’s peak, he could channel energy to enhance his body, arriving as if from his chambers.
The courtyard glowed with lanterns, festive and bright.
Before he could greet, Xie emerged, her pale hands at her waist, poised and graceful.
“Yanqing! Come eat!” Xie Lingwan’s bright eyes and red lips shone in a fitted scarlet gown, gold ribbon at her waist, collarbone delicate, neckline low, her ample curves nearly spilling out. Her slender waist was both refined and radiant—a true beauty.
Even newlywed concubines could hardly rival her.
Seeing her nephew alone, Xie’s lips curved into a charming smile. “Where’s Heroine Ji? Didn’t we invite her for dinner?”
“No need to worry, Auntie. I sent for her; she’ll arrive soon,” Ji Yanqing said, stepping forward to support her soft, boneless arm, smooth as Jiangzhe silk.
Her dark hair’s faint fragrance teased his nose, stirring him.
“Yanqing, am I pretty?” Xie asked, tucking a strand of hair, her face flushed like a ripe peach, tempting a bite.