Xuanling slipped out of the ancestral hall without raising the slightest suspicion from the guards. Heart pounding with quiet triumph, she wasted no time and hurried through the winding corridors in search of Yu'er.
More than mere hunger drove her. She needed to return the borrowed horse as well, and every moment she lingered inside the Ming mansion increased the risk of discovery. She prayed she would not be caught while still within these walls.
"Fourth Miss?" Yu'er's eyes widened in disbelief when she spotted the figure approaching in A'bao's coarse servant clothes. "Is that truly you?"
Xuanling let out a soft giggle at her maid's stunned expression. "Yes, Yu'er, it is me."
"You…" Yu'er stood speechless for a moment, but Xuanling had no time to linger on the amusement.
"Quickly now — where is the horse?" She glanced around nervously, ensuring no prying eyes lingered in the shadows of the courtyard.
"At the stables, Fourth Miss. Shall I fetch it?"
"No," Xuanling replied in a hushed tone.
"Take it to the second entrance gate and tie it there, just as I left it last night. I will collect it once I step outside. The last thing I need is to draw any attention to myself." She let out a small sigh, the weight of her risky adventure pressing upon her.
"As you wish, Fourth Miss." Yu'er curtsied and turned to leave at once, but Xuanling caught her sleeve.
"On your way back, bring me a basket from the kitchen. If I am to leave this place without raising suspicions, I must appear as though I am simply heading to the market."
"Understood, Fourth Miss." Yu'er nodded obediently and hurried off.
Though Yu'er had not been gone long, impatience soon gnawed at Xuanling. She waited in the shaded corner of the courtyard, her gaze sharp as a hawk's. Every passing servant or shadow made her tense — especially any who might serve as Concubine Yun's spies. That woman had been watching her like a venomous snake ever since Xuanling revealed she knew about the secret affair with Vice Minister Tong.
Xuanling saw little need for such caution on her own part. In just ten days she would be married, and the entire Ming mansion — its wealth, its power, its future — would belong to her alone, with no one left to contest her claim. She could simply wait and claim her rightful place then. Yet Concubine Yun was not one to forgive or forget. If she learned that Xuanling had defied her father's orders today, she would wield the discovery like a dagger, striking without mercy.
Lost in these uneasy thoughts, Xuanling suddenly spotted Yu'er approaching through the winding paths.
Her face brightened at once. She waited until her loyal maid drew close enough, then spoke in a low voice.
"It is done, Fourth Miss," Yu'er whispered.
"Good. Now give me the basket." Xuanling reached out, and Yu'er placed the woven basket into her hands.
With the prop secured, Xuanling drew a clean handkerchief from beneath her layers of clothing. She tied it over her nose and mouth, then gave a few deliberate, weak coughs — slipping back into her carefully crafted performance of illness.
Yu'er covered her mouth, barely stifling a chuckle at the sight.
"You should go now, Yu'er. I will return soon," Xuanling assured her with a nod.
"Take care, Fourth Miss." Yu'er bowed deeply and slipped away, leaving her young mistress to rely on wits and fortune alone.
The handkerchief proved its worth. By pretending to suffer from a terrible cough, Xuanling moved through the mansion largely unhindered. Servants parted before her like water before a boat, fearing whatever ailment clung to her might be contagious. They avoided her with hurried steps and averted eyes, murmuring prayers for their own safety.
Fortune smiled upon her. She passed through the outer gates without incident. Once safely beyond the high walls of the Ming mansion, she tossed the basket aside, mounted the horse with practiced grace, and urged it into the bustling streets of the capital.
Even with the handkerchief still tied firmly behind her head, covering most of her face, Xuanling rode with carefree delight. Her mind danced with anticipation of warm, savory food. She would have removed the cloth, but the risk remained — servants from the Ming household might wander these streets, or worse, acquaintances who would recognize her. She had no plausible explanation ready. Better safe than sorry. She was not searching for anyone in particular, not even the mysterious owner of this fine horse. That encounter could wait. Right now, filling her empty belly came first.
Her eyes scanned the lively thoroughfare, taking in the colorful stalls, the calls of hawkers, and the tempting aromas drifting from food vendors. Before long, a splendid building caught her attention. Its bold, gilded sign proclaimed "Dingfeng Tavern" in elegant characters.
At that very moment, her stomach let out a loud, insistent growl — louder than it had all morning.
"Yes, I am happy too," she murmured with a soft laugh, patting her belly. "We are about to get some food, my dear!"
She dismounted with light steps and led the horse to the tavern's shaded area reserved for mounts. Then, with great delight sparkling in her eyes, she walked inside.
The moment Xuanling stepped into the Dingfeng Tavern, a symphony of rich, intoxicating scents wrapped around her like a warm embrace—the sharp sizzle of oil in hot woks, the deep savory perfume of slow-simmered broths infused with star anise, ginger, and fermented black beans, and the mouthwatering aroma of meats roasted over open flames, including crisp-skinned duck, glistening pork belly, and fragrant lamb skewers. This renowned establishment was far more than an ordinary inn; it served as a lavish haven where exquisite delicacies, premium aged liquors, rare and fragrant teas, comfortable lodging in silk-adorned rooms, and refined evening entertainment—such as pipa music and ancient storytelling.
This was the main hall, adorned with crimson silk lanterns and polished rosewood tables. She chose an empty table near the large latticed window, where soft afternoon light filtered through intricate carvings, and settled comfortably into the plush seat as the aromas grew even stronger, making her mouth water uncontrollably.
A servant approached, his expression shifting from neutral to one of clear disdain as he took in her coarse servant attire.
"Anyone who sits in our main hall must order something," he said curtly. "If you have no intention of doing so, I must ask you to leave."
Xuanling blinked, then offered a polite smile and removed the handkerchief from her face.
"Good day, sir. Your food smells truly wonderful. I am very hungry — a bowl of noodles and some steamed fish and pig broth would be perfect, thank you."
The servant's lip curled. He saw only a poorly dressed girl who looked cheap and out of place in one of the capital's finest taverns.
This establishment, owned by a highly respected noble scholar and bachelor, catered almost exclusively to the wealthy and aristocratic. Many patrons came as much to admire the owner as to enjoy the exquisite dishes, liquor and performance.
"We do not serve peasants here," he replied coldly. "Can you even afford our meals?"
"Afford them?" Xuanling's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "But I have no money with me."
She could scarcely believe he expected payment. The only other time she had eaten in a tavern, Taiyi had accompanied her. That night, after her father forbade her from eating due to fasting, she had left the mansion starving. Taiyi had refused to let her perform on an empty stomach. She had simply eaten her fill, and when they finished, he left a few bronze coins on the table before escorting her back to the carriage. She had assumed he did it only to impress the pretty young serving girl. How foolish she had been! So people truly paid for food in taverns and cook shops.
Now she had none. Yet she refused to return to the Ming mansion with an empty belly — not after risking so much. There had to be a way.
"I am truly very hungry right now, sir," she said, putting on her most pitiful expression. "I would be so grateful if you could serve me something delicious. Please?"
The servant remained unmoved. "This is no place to feed stray dogs. If you have no money, leave at once!"
"So you truly cannot spare even one plate?" Displeasure crept into Xuanling's voice. "Very well, let us do it this way: I will take the food on credit. I promise to repay you as soon as possible — tomorrow morning at the latest. How does that sound?" She flashed a bright smile, revealing her neat, white teeth.
"Nonsense!" The servant had reached the end of his patience. "Get out of here right now!"
Before she could protest further, he seized her arm, dragged her from the chair, and hauled her lightweight frame toward the entrance. With a rough shove, he flung her outside.
"Arggg!" Xuanling cried out, bracing for the painful impact with the hard ground.
But the pain never came.
She landed on something firm — yet warm and solid. Not the dusty street.
Biceps?!
A deep, steady voice sounded above her.
"Are you alright?"