Wanqing had little to say to her sisters, Mu Wanxia and the others. Though she sympathized with her third sister, ever since Liu Shi left the Marquis’s household, she had visited their father frequently, yet their relationship remained distant and indifferent.
Since they had nothing to say to her, she saw no reason to force conversation. Instead, she sat at a table with Cui Hongxiao, Qian Yuying, and Song Meiling, a few noble ladies.
“Sister Cui, Sister Qian, and Sister Song, now that you’re here at the Princess’s residence, please enjoy yourselves. Here, let me propose a toast first…”
The girls chatted softly among themselves. Though Wanqing was usually reserved, in their company, her youthful spirit seemed to revive, and she even joined in their lighthearted banter and girlish secrets.
Naturally, Wanqing teased them the most. Being girls of fifteen or sixteen—at most seventeen or eighteen—once they let loose, they became inseparable.
As the three whispered among themselves, a figure approached their table with a few attendants in tow. Wu Qingyang, rarely seen mingling with them, stepped forward, poured herself a cup of wine, and raised it in invitation.
“I… I’ve never drunk before, I…”
Seeing her unusually masculine gesture of toasting, the girls looked uneasy—except for Wanqing. Cui Hongxiao, who had been relaxed and cheerful moments ago, now wore an expression of reluctance and tension at the thought of drinking.
Hesitantly holding the cup Wu Qingyang had poured for her, she glanced at Wanqing beside her and whispered, “If the Princess is so gracious, we should drink. But as unmarried ladies, it’s best not to indulge. Sister Cui and Sister Meiling seem unaccustomed to it, so let me drink for them…”
Noticing Cui Hongxiao’s discomfort and Song Meiling’s reluctance, Wanqing couldn’t help but feel that Wu Qingyang’s actions were directed at her. Recalling Wu Qingyang’s persistent pursuit of Leng Mingye, she began to understand the motive.
But if they refused the toast, who knew what Wu Qingyang might say? So Wanqing reassured the others, watching as Qian Yuying hesitated before finally taking a sip—only to cough violently, her face flushing red.
Seeing them suffer because of her, and noticing Cui Hongxiao and Song Meiling’s pained expressions as if drinking medicine, Wanqing raised her own cup and drank. Though they hesitated, they eventually followed suit. Moved by their discomfort, Wanqing smiled slightly, swiftly took their cups, and drank for them, then turned a concerned yet admonishing gaze toward Wu Qingyang.
“Impressive capacity. But one cup isn’t enough. I heard from your elder sister that you’re practically immune to alcohol—why stop after just one?”
Wu Qingyang smirked at Wanqing’s boldness and poured two more cups. When Wanqing made no move to drink, she arched a brow in challenge.
“You…” It was clear Wu Qingyang was here to provoke. Watching Wanqing drink, she pressed further, waiting expectantly.
“Oh? When did the Princess become so close with my elder sister that she’d share such details? But truly, my tolerance is low—three cups in, and I’m already dizzy. I… I think we should find a place to rest. My head is spinning…”
Wu Qingyang’s obvious attempt to get her drunk didn’t faze Wanqing. She saw no shame in yielding, especially when she could easily handle more. But she had no interest in competing.
With a faint smile, she swayed unsteadily, feigning drunkenness, and turned to the two ladies supporting her, subtly squeezing their palms in silent reassurance.
“So the Second Miss Mu is a lightweight after all. Very well, I won’t insist. Since you’re so unwell, let me arrange a place for you to rest. Cuier, escort them to my side chamber…”
Wu Qingyang smirked triumphantly, playing the gracious host as she instructed the girl beside her—the same one Wanqing’s maid, Honglian, had once slapped.
“Please follow me,” Liu Cuier said with a smile, gesturing for them to proceed.
“This…” It was clear this wasn’t genuine hospitality but a deliberate trap. Song Meiling, Qian Yuying, and Cui Hongxiao exchanged worried glances, unsure how to respond.
“Sister Qian, Sister Cui, please help Sister Mu over. I’ll go inform my brother, Prince Ning, so they won’t worry…”
Recognizing Wu Qingyang’s ulterior motives, Song Meiling had no choice but to leave the others and seek help from the male guests.
“Let’s go,” Liu Cuier said lightly, watching as the two ladies supported Wanqing, who now appeared deeply asleep.
“Alright.” They had assumed Wanqing, who had boldly drunk for them, had a high tolerance. To see her collapse so quickly left them no choice but to follow.
“Rest here for now. When the banquet ends, I’ll come fetch you.”
Liu Cuier watched as they settled Wanqing onto the bed in the side chamber. Seeing their anxious expressions, she chuckled and left—only to lock the door behind her.
“You—Hey! Liu Cuier! What are you doing? Why lock us in?!”
Qian Yuying, who had intended to care for Wanqing, realized too late they’d been tricked. She rushed to the door, pounding and shouting, but Liu Cuier was already gone.
“What do we do? It seems the Princess has trapped us too. It’s all my fault—she only offended Wu Qingyang and the Second Prince of Ji Manor because of me. Sister Qian, what now? I… it’s all my fault…”
Cui Hongxiao, recalling her parents’ warnings about palace intrigues, panicked, clutching Qian Yuying’s sleeve in distress.
“Don’t panic, sisters. I have a plan. For now, we wait and see what they intend.”
Just as the two were losing hope, Wanqing’s eyes snapped open—clear and alert—as she calmly reassured them.
“I suppose we have no choice. But if they mean us harm, three defenseless women…”
Despite Wanqing’s calm, Qian Yuying and Cui Hongxiao couldn’t suppress their fear.
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