Chapter Sixty-Five: The Only Daughter of the Hidden Family

Imperial Palace.

“My son, the Withered Wood Forest is the burial ground of the martyrs who followed our ancestors. When you enter, you must maintain reverence.”

Jun Muxuan knelt on one knee, while Jun Mulin stood at his side, expressionless. Over the years, Jun Mulin—no, he should now be called Zhong Li—had never bowed to anyone. No one could bear this gesture from him.

As always, the Empress of the Red Moon ignored her eldest son. After giving her instructions, she handed the finest medicinal pills to Jun Muxuan, just in case.

The Withered Wood Forest was fraught with danger, forbidden to commoners by the Red Moon Dynasty. In the past, spiritual cultivators seeking treasures had ventured in, never to return.

After leaving the rear hall of the Golden Palace, Jun Muxuan was a little puzzled. Lately, Ning Xue’er seemed to come around less often, but he didn’t mind; peace and quiet suited him.

With several days left before the treasure’s appearance, Jun Muxuan left the palace, wandered around the busiest streets of Red Moon City, and slipped into a narrow alley. At the far end was a modest home, and there Jun Muxuan saw a familiar figure. With a cheeky grin, he called out:

“Ha! Sister Xingying!”

The young woman was hanging clothes to dry and hadn’t heard him approach. Jun Muxuan’s sudden greeting startled her, but when she saw who it was, she laughed and teased, “Oh, it’s you. What brings you here all of a sudden?”

Jun Muxuan, carefree and unbothered by appearances, plopped down on the spotless courtyard floor. “Isn’t it obvious? I missed you, so here I am!”

Xingying shook the droplets from the freshly washed clothes. “Isn’t it just on your way? Usually when you visit, it’s to complain that the little girl from the Ning family is pestering you to keep her company.”

Jun Muxuan feigned indifference, though a storm was already brewing in his heart.

“Nonsense. Ning Xue’er has been sensible lately, leaving me in peace for several days. I came here out of leisure.”

Xingying seemed to know him too well. “Hmm, are you sure it’s not you who stopped her from pestering you? Are you regretting it now?”

“Tch! This prince never regrets. But you—are you truly not planning to return? I heard there’s a woman in the city these days whose playing rivals yours.”

Xingying paused for a moment, then asked, “And what do you think?”

Jun Muxuan sat on a nearby chair, crossing his legs in a roguish manner. “Me? I think she’s good enough. I don’t know much about the guqin, but if everyone likes her, she must be good.”

A smile played on Xingying’s lips. “If you think so, then perhaps I should go out and meet her. To find a rival in music in one’s lifetime—how could I not look forward to it?”

After a few more words, Jun Muxuan began to feel bored. Suddenly, his gaze drifted to the branch of a tree near the neighbor’s roof, and a mischievous smirk appeared.

“Miss Xingying, this prince likes you. Will you be my princess?”

Xingying also looked toward the tree, noticing a black shoe peeking from the foliage. “If not for my humble status, I would gladly accept…”

Back and forth they bantered, flirting until the eavesdropper in the tree grew still.

Xingying withdrew her hand from Jun Muxuan’s arm. “These people are tiresome. I wonder if they were as satisfied with our last performance of Cowherd and Weaver Girl as they hoped.”

Jun Muxuan folded his hands behind his head. “Who knows? I’m off. If you need anything, just send word—your nephew will come at once!”

The one spying from the tree was a scout from the First Pavilion. Many admirers, obsessed with Xingying, would commission the Pavilion to find news of her seclusion.

Long ago, Jun Muxuan had already bribed someone to learn about these dealings.

In order to keep those admirers away from his aunt Xingying—yes, aunt—Jun Muxuan had no choice but to stage these plays with her, over and over. The First Pavilion might suspect their close relationship, but no one knew that the city’s famed dancer and musician Xingying was once a member of the royal family—the Empress’s own younger sister, formerly known as Liu Fuyi.

After leaving the alley, Jun Muxuan couldn’t stop replaying Liu Fuyi’s words in his mind: “Isn’t it just on your way… Are you regretting it now?”

He shook his head vigorously, convinced he must be bewitched. Why, with so much free time lately, did he keep creating troubles for himself? Ning Xue’er was pretty enough, perhaps, but far too delicate and talkative—not his type.

Before he realized it, Jun Muxuan found himself standing before a grand gated estate. The vermilion doors loomed before him, and the “Ning Residence” signboard made his heart skip a beat.

Jun Muxuan blinked, questioning himself—how had he wandered here without noticing? No, he needed to leave at once. If he were spotted…

“Second Prince! Are you here to see Miss Xue’er?”

Jun Muxuan turned aside, covering his face. Just as he feared.

The doors opened, and standing there was Ning Xue’er’s maid, someone Jun Muxuan recognized well. She carried a small basket—clearly about to go shopping.

“Your Highness? Are you all right? The sun is fierce today. Why not come inside for shade? When the weather cools, you can leave at your leisure!”

For the sake of her mistress’s happiness, Qiu Yue was giving it her all. This was the most she had ever said to a member of the royal family.

Yet lately, her young lady had lost her former enthusiasm, throwing herself into cultivation. Qiu Yue was growing anxious. Now, with this rare opportunity, she was determined to seize it for her mistress!

Jun Muxuan looked awkward. Indeed, the sun was harsh.

So the words of refusal caught in his throat, and out came, “I suppose I’ll step inside for some shade.”

He could have slapped himself. His mouth had a mind of its own.

Before he knew it, he was in Ning Xue’er’s courtyard—Falling Snow Pavilion.

Qiu Yue hurried inside to announce, “Miss! His Highness the Second Prince is here!”

Her mistress sat cross-legged, dazed, and took a long moment to react.

“What? Brother Xuan is here? Qiu Yue, quickly, check if my hair and clothes are neat. And my face—is it clean? Oh no, I was so busy cultivating I forgot to put on makeup. Will Brother Xuan laugh at me…”

Ning Xue’er muttered anxiously.

“Miss, you are perfect, absolutely perfect. Your hair is fine, you look beautiful even without makeup. Now hurry out—don’t keep the Prince waiting!”

Encouraged by Qiu Yue, Ning Xue’er rushed outside.

Behind her, Qiu Yue shook her head in amusement—her mistress truly was hopeless.

Outside, Ning Xue’er’s face flushed at the sight of Jun Muxuan. She had never imagined that Brother Xuan would one day come to her of his own accord.

“Xuan—uh, Your Highness, it’s an honor for you to visit Falling Snow Pavilion. Qiu Yue, bring tea and refreshments.”

Jun Muxuan was taken aback. Normally, Ning Xue’er never called him anything but “Brother Xuan.” Today, she addressed him as “Your Highness”—was he losing his charm? Was he no longer the heartthrob of countless maidens?

That couldn’t be. Ning Xue’er’s blushing cheeks proved she still cared for him.

Jun Muxuan stole glances at her now and then.

Ning Xue’er’s face grew even redder. So the stories were true—only by maintaining a certain distance would one’s beloved pay more attention.

She resolved to give Qiu Yue a raise in the future!

Meanwhile, as Qiu Yue brought the tea, she sneezed. She wondered if her mistress was following the advice from her romance stories.