Chapter Twelve: Does His Highness the Crown Prince Have Someone in His Heart?

Qiao Qingyun lay alone on the hard sandalwood bed. Though it was a bit uncomfortable for sleeping, she had to admit it was truly good for her health.

“Miss, would you like some sweet soup?” Qingluo asked, noticing that Qiao Qingyun had eaten very little at dinner.

The woman turned to look at Qingluo, beckoning her over with a lively curiosity. “Do you have any wine here?”

“Wine?” Qingluo was taken aback. Why would she want to drink wine?

“Most of the wine is kept in the cellar, but I can try to get some,” Qingluo offered.

“Hurry, go on!” Qiao Qingyun urged.

Soon, Qingluo dashed back, holding a jar of wine, her face alight with excitement as she returned to Qiao Qingyun’s side. “Miss, please don’t drink too much; it’s not good for your health.”

“Can you drink?” Qiao Qingyun had already set her sights on Qingluo. If Qingluo could drink, then the two of them could share the wine under the beautiful night sky—a delightful prospect.

“A little,” Qingluo replied with a playful smile. Qiao Qingyun patted the chair beside her, signaling for her to sit.

But Qingluo, having been a maid all her life, dared not take such liberty. She shook her head and stepped back. “Miss…”

“Oh, just sit as I tell you!” Qiao Qingyun insisted, pulling Qingluo into the chair and grabbing the wine jar, filling two small bowls for them both.

The window was already open. This Bamboo Listening Pavilion truly was a wonderful place—one only had to lift their gaze to see the bright, round moon, its silvery light spilling over her.

In her cream-white nightgown, Qiao Qingyun looked all the more delicate and pitiable.

“Come, cheers!” she said boldly, raising her cup and clinking it against Qingluo’s, downing her wine in a few hearty gulps.

“Miss, you can drink?” Qingluo’s face flushed instantly after her first cup, clearly unable to hold her liquor.

“Why? Can’t you drink?” Qiao Qingyun was surprised, but on second thought, it made sense. In this era, unless a woman was an adventurer, she probably had little interest in drinking.

“Mm… I can.” Qingluo laughed awkwardly, her eyes narrowing, but there was no real joy in them.

Qiao Qingyun was adept at reading faces. She sensed there was more to this and asked gently, “What’s wrong?”

“I… I…” Qingluo hesitated, her gaze becoming clouded. After a moment, she spoke slowly, “When I was little, my parents sold me. There were many children at home, and I was the eldest, so I was worth the most.”

Sold? Qiao Qingyun’s interest was piqued, and she asked with wide eyes, “How many children did your family have?”

Qingluo held up her small hand. “Five. My younger sister and I were sold together, but she was too young and disobedient, and she was beaten to death.”

Beaten to death? Qiao Qingyun thought bitterly that in this era, life was cheap—anything could be solved with money.

Looking at Qingluo before her, Qiao Qingyun felt a pang of pity. “Then how did you learn to drink?”

“I… The people who bought me weren’t to be trifled with. Many children died, so I tried to please them. I wanted to live, so when they drank, I’d sit by and try to join in. At first, a single sip would knock me out, but later, I could finish an entire jar. The leader even said he’d adopt me as his goddaughter, so I agreed. When I grew older, I was sold again and sent here to the prince’s residence.”

Listening to this, Qiao Qingyun could scarcely believe such stories existed—if Qingluo hadn’t told her herself, she never would have imagined it. Yet, it made a certain sense; after all, people were never in short supply here.

Qiao Qingyun was at a loss for words to comfort Qingluo. She simply reached out and held Qingluo’s hand. “It’s all right now.”

Qingluo stared, then looked up at Qiao Qingyun with a silly grin. “Miss, why did you marry the prince?”

“Hm?” Qiao Qingyun hadn’t quite caught the question, surprised that Qingluo was interested in such things.

Qingluo’s eyes remained fixed on her, and after a pause, Qiao Qingyun, emboldened by the wine, replied, “For self-preservation.”

“For self-preservation?” Qingluo was puzzled. Qiao Qingyun seemed so capable—why would she need to rely on the crown prince for protection?

Qiao Qingyun glanced at the moonlight outside, raised her bowl in a toast to its silver glow. “Yes, self-preservation. After all, one cannot risk even their life, can they?”

“But…”

“There are many things you don’t know, and I don’t want you to know. It would do you no good. At least you know that if you leave, you might find a place for yourself. But I… ‘Alone and forsaken’—there are no words more fitting for me.”

That was precisely how Qiao Qingyun felt. If she were to leave, it wouldn’t be long before someone hunted her down. Only by clinging tightly to Yuan Zaichun, that great tree, might she have a chance at survival.

Qingluo couldn’t understand, but Qiao Qingyun didn’t intend for her to.

“Tell me, who is the woman the crown prince truly loves?” This was what Qiao Qingyun wanted to know most. As the crown prince, could he not even keep the woman he loved by his side?

The place was empty, not a single consort in sight. In any other dynasty, such a thing would have been a laughingstock.

Qiao Qingyun asked with careless curiosity, but Qingluo took it to heart. After a moment’s thought, she answered, “Her name is Miss Lotus-Step.”

“Lotus-Step?” Qiao Qingyun rolled the name on her tongue, then asked, “Why aren’t they together?”

“Because Miss Lotus-Step was promised to another.”

Ah! Now it all made sense. No wonder Yuan Zaichun seemed indifferent to the position of crown princess, as if it didn’t matter to him who filled the role. If the one he loved had been taken away, why bother with titles at all?

Soon, Qingluo, drunk, fell asleep, but Qiao Qingyun grew more alert with every cup. She stepped outside under the moonlight, sat at the stone table, and cradled the wine jar in her arms.

“A cup for the dawn, a cup for the moon’s light, awakening my longing, softening the cold window…”

She didn’t know if it was the right time for singing, but Qiao Qingyun began to sing to the moon, even breaking into a dance.

“In this life, I will search no more…”

Her graceful, melodious voice drew Yuan Zaichun and Liu Fu, who had just finished dealing with state affairs, to the Bamboo Listening Pavilion.

They paused, watching the dancing figure within.

“Your Highness, it’s Miss Qiao.”

“I can see that,” replied Yuan Zaichun.