The First Jasmine - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: First Meeting

"Prince Li, do you harbor some form of dissatisfaction toward this Prince's future Princess Consort?"

The entire second floor plunged into absolute silence; even the clamor from the street below seemed to have drifted incredibly far away. Every eye stared blankly at a spot a single pace away from Ye Li, where a youth dressed in brown martial attire held Mo Jingli's wrist in an iron grip. Yet none of the people present, including Mo Jingli himself, had seen where this youth had come from. Mo Jingli glared at the youth venomously, then quickly darted his gaze toward the source of the voice. Ye Li, however, did not look at the person who had intercepted Mo Jingli; the moment that voice resonated, she turned her eyes toward that ramrod-straight, plain-colored silhouette near the top of the stairs.

Only now did people notice that this man wore an incredibly unremarkable, plain linen robe. He was not seated upon one of the tavern’s chairs, but rather within a wheelchair of no ordinary craftsmanship. Because he had arrived early and one side of his seat was shielded by a half-man-high porcelain vase, very few people had noticed this details. He had originally seemed to be looking down at the main lobby from the carved banister, and only at this moment did he slightly turn his head, allowing others to glimpse half of his handsome and refined countenance. He pressed his hand against the wheelchair to exert force, and the chair slowly turned around to face the crowd.

The man seated calmly in the wheelchair was dressed in ordinary cotton robes, yet he possessed none of the despondency or wretchedness common to those with crippled legs. Even those standing before him still felt as though they were a few fractions shorter than him, left with no choice but to look up. There was a type of person who required no splendid apparel, precious jade, towering power, or a cloud of attending guards; as long as he was there, he was an existence that stood above all others. Half of the man's face was handsome and pure, bearing a natural air of noble majesty that seemed inborn. His left face bore a frost-colored mask crafted from some unknown material, completely concealing the entire left side of his countenance; yet this gave him an even more mysterious aura that made people want to peer beneath, even though they knew it must hide a ghastly scar.

"Mo. Xiu. Yao!" After a long pause, Mo Jingli finally spat out those three words, one by one.

The three words 'Mo Xiuyao' seemed to possess a form of magic, causing the stunned crowd to finally recover their wits. They looked with astonishment at this Prince Ding, who had not appeared in the public eye for many years, yet still remained graceful and composed even while seated in a wheelchair. Beholding the man before them—who was completely different from what they had imagined—those who had long grown accustomed to the thought that Prince Ding was a useless cripple suddenly remembered what a brilliantly stunning youth this man had once been.

This di second son, once uniquely doted upon within the Prince Ding Manor, had once been the object of envy for every youth in the entire Great Chu. His literary talent was elegant and fluent, and he had been hailed as the "Twin Jades" alongside the empire’s number one youthful Top Scholar. His martial arts were consummate, and like his ancestors, his military strategy was godlike; at fifteen, he had swept through several nations along the southern border, completely invincible. He had once been betrothed to the most beautiful and talented woman in the capital, a match of talent and beauty that envied the entire world.

However, his good fortune seemed to grind to a sudden halt in his eighteenth year. His only elder brother passed away from illness, and the youth, who hastily inherited the title of Prince Ding, went to war once more, only to nearly break his halberd and sink into the sand in a crushing defeat. Though the youth managed to turn the tide at the very end, he paid an indelible price. Heavy injuries, disfigurement, and crippled legs. As if heaven felt this blow was not enough for this favored son of the skies, three months later, his betrothed of several years—with whom he had shared mutual affection—passed away from illness. From then on, only a select few in the capital occasionally caught sight of Prince Ding's silhouette.

If the Mo Xiuyao of his youth had been brilliantly stunning and high-spirited, as dazzling and eye-catching as a blazing fire, then the man seen again several years later was as warm and upright as jade, as deep and elegant as still water. Yet, throughout this transformation, just how much agony had he endured, and how many people truly knew of it?

"Jingli, we haven't met for many years, yet you have truly become accomplished." Mo Xiuyao cast a glance at Ye Li, who was staring at him, before turning his gaze toward Mo Jingli.

Mo Jingli’s face, which already lacked expressions, grew even more rigid as he said harshly, "How this Prince conducts himself has nothing to do with you."

Mo Xiuyao nodded in agreement. "How you conduct yourself is indeed something this Prince has no intention of managing. However... even if you do not wish to mind your own status, it is best to mind the status of others."

Mo Jingli knit his sharp brows, a trace of sarcasm surfacing on his face as he shook off the youth gripping him. He turned back to look at Mo Xiuyao and said, "You wish to stand up for her? Mo Xiuyao, don't tell me you have truly taken a liking to this woman?"

"You know very well that your taste and mine have been worlds apart since childhood," Mo Xiuyao did not display any anger, and a faint smile even surfaced on his face. "Furthermore, showing disrespect to the future mistress of the Prince Ding Manor—Jingli, are you certain you wish to do this?"

Mo Jingli's face darkened, and he glared venomously at Ye Li. He smiled disdainfully at Mo Xiuyao and said, "Ha, the future mistress of the Prince Ding Manor? Mo Xiuyao, are you certain you are speaking of this woman?" To the imperial family, the 'Prince Ding Consort' and the 'Mistress of the Prince Ding Manor' were completely two different concepts. If she were merely the Prince Ding Consort, she could be dismissed as nothing; but if this woman truly held the reins of the Prince Ding Manor... Mo Jingli suddenly realized that instigating his Imperial Brother to bestow this woman to Mo Xiuyao back then had been a massive mistake.

"His Highness Prince Li, please mind your words!" The brown-clad youth, who had retreated to one side, glared at Mo Jingli with an unfriendly expression.

Mo Jingli let out a cold huff. Without even uttering a word of farewell, he turned around and directly went downstairs. Standing beside him, Princess Qixia looked at the situation before her with a fair amount of confusion; knitting her brows, she hastily gave chase as well.

Now that the good show had concluded, many of the patrons who had been stimulated by the information obtained today also departed in twos and threes, feigning indifference. Before long, the only ones remaining on the entire second floor were Ye Li's table and Mo Xiuyao's table. Ye Li smiled wryly with helplessness in her heart; after today, the capital would certainly become incredibly lively.

"Ahem, greetings to the Prince. I suddenly recall that I still have some things to purchase. Zheng'er, Murong, accompany me," Hua Tianxiang coughed lightly, preparing to flee in a thoroughly unloyal manner.

Qin Zheng and Murong Ting also hastily nodded. Seeing Mo Xiuyao nod in agreement, they hurriedly walked downstairs. Before departing, Qin Zheng did not forget to cast a worried yet encouraging look toward Ye Li.

Watching the figures of her friends vanish at the stairwell, Ye Li let out a sigh, finding it somewhat amusing. They couldn't possibly think that she would feel embarrassed like other young girls, could they? Well, meeting an unmet fiancé under such circumstances did indeed seem to warrant a certain degree of maidenly bashfulness. After pondering for a moment, Ye Li still decided to abandon such a high-difficulty performance. She raised her head to look directly at Mo Xiuyao, who was likewise sizing her up. "Your Highness, why don't we change to another place to talk? After all... people still have a business to run here."

A flash of surprise flickered in Mo Xiuyao's eyes, and he nodded in silence. Thus, the two moved their presence to a private room on the third floor of the Chu Fragrance Pavilion.

"Miss Ye... leaves me somewhat surprised," Mo Xiuyao said, opening his mouth as he sat by the open window in the only private room on the third floor, looking at the green-robed young lady before him who displayed not the slightest hint of constraint or unease.

Ye Li opened her lips and smiled. "Your Highness also leaves me somewhat surprised." If the man before her eyes was the Prince Ding who was rumored to have become a useless waste due to his crippled state, then it was evident to what extent the capital's gossip columns had become unreliable.

"After so many years... it seems Jingli's taste has indeed developed a problem," Mo Xiuyao sighed softly, a trace of a smile flashing through his warm eyes.

Ye Li smiled faintly. "It is Your Highness's attitude that makes Ye Li sigh softly. In truth, I had always thought I would receive a second letter of broken engagement."

"Are you not afraid?"

"Afraid?" Ye Li looked at him with confusion, but quickly reacted and said, "I will be as careful as possible. Furthermore, the imperial decree is as absolute as a mountain. Rather than defying the decree, why not try to step forward? Perhaps there will be a completely different vista."

Mo Xiuyao raised his hand to remove the mask from his face, and the ghastly scar beneath was instantly exposed before Ye Li's eyes.

The slightly ghastly scar did indeed ruin his aesthetic appeal to some degree, but to a Ye Li who had seen severed limbs, shattered torsos, and corpses blasted apart by explosives, it didn't even register as shocking. Therefore, she merely blinked her eyes and asked with a hint of apologetic amusement, "Is Your Highness preparing to frighten me?"

Mo Xiuyao was stunned, and a very faint smile hooked at the corner of his lips. "No. In truth, I do not like wearing this." Even if half of his face had been ruined, Mo Xiuyao never wore the mask when he was alone. He was not someone who dared not face himself.

Ye Li nodded in agreement. "I also dislike people who wear masks. Across a layer of a mask, it is very difficult to see a person's expressions and thoughts clearly."

Mo Xiuyao was rendered speechless. The young lady before his eyes was completely different from what Feng Zhiyao's meddlesome investigation had yielded, and entirely different from his own conjectures. Looking upon that elegant and pure face full of composure and tranquility, Mo Xiuyao suddenly felt that Feng Zhiyao had been right; Ye Li was indeed a very interesting woman, and she was the finest one he could have chosen. A woman highly suited to be the future mistress of the Prince Ding Manor.