Chapter Seventeen: Not Everyone Gets to Laugh at My Jokes

From the moment the Empress appeared, her attention was drawn to Shen Ningshuang. Among the elegantly adorned ladies, her attire stood out strikingly. She wore a gown of soft pink silk, the hem embroidered with delicate silver threads tracing flowing clouds, reminiscent of mist drifting through mountain valleys—ethereal and graceful. Her black hair was loosely tied with a simple ribbon, a few strands cascading freely like ink washes, adding a touch of casual languor.

This allure was not born of opulence but of refined simplicity, like a clear stream amid the grandeur.

A faint, almost elusive smile curved the Empress’s lips. “Ah, isn’t this the Fourth Miss of the Shen family? It’s been ages since I last saw you. Your presence today is truly a rare delight.”

Only then did Shen Ningshuang leisurely rise and offer a slight bow. “Your Majesty, your humble servant greets you.”

“Time flies indeed. The last time I saw you, you were but a little girl. Now you have blossomed into such a poised and graceful young lady. Since you are here, let us open our hearts and enjoy ourselves to the fullest.”

Her gaze swept over the paintings displayed around them before settling again on Shen Ningshuang.

“Pray tell, which of these masterpieces is the handiwork of Miss Shen?”

“Your Majesty flatters me,” Shen Ningshuang replied with calm dignity. “I am no painter and dare not sully your eyes with my humble attempts.”

Her words barely faded when several ladies nearby broke into laughter.

“Second Miss Shen’s artistry is so splendid; surely the family has engaged a master to instruct her. Since Fourth Miss and Second Miss reside in the same household, how could you be uninvolved?” the Empress feigned surprise.

“I am well aware of my lack of talent in painting and have never devoted much thought to it. The Shen family has served in official and military capacities for generations. From a young age, I have been immersed in martial traditions and am somewhat versed in martial arts. If Your Majesty would not find it too crude, I would be honored to perform a sword dance to entertain you.”

At that moment, a mocking chuckle came from nearby. “If that is so, then I am truly fortunate to witness Fourth Miss Shen’s sword dance.”

All eyes turned toward the source—a winding, narrow path where three distinguished gentlemen strolled side by side. Though of similar age, each bore a distinctly different aura.

In the center was Leng Yichen, reputed as the most handsome man in the Ningyuan Kingdom. His chiseled features were sharp and defined, his obsidian black eyes gleamed with sharp, eagle-like intensity beneath a calm exterior.

To his left stood the Crown Prince. Though less striking in appearance, his high rank lent him an air of authority.

On the far right was the Third Prince, Leng Zhaowen. His demeanor was entirely different from the other two, warm as spring sunshine, his face perpetually adorned with a polite smile, reminiscent of the refined gentlemen described in ancient texts—gentle and noble.

Beside the stoic Leng Yichen, he was like fire to ice.

The arrival of these three noble gentlemen sparked a sudden flutter among the assembled ladies, their expressions blooming into enchanting smiles like candles set alight. The crowd stirred as if a stone had been tossed into a placid lake, sending ripples far and wide.

“Oh my, it’s the princes! Really the princes!” one lady gasped, covering her mouth, eyes shining with excitement.

“I never expected to see the princes at the palace today. Look, one of them is looking this way! Could it be at me?” another blushed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Why would a prince look at you?” a nearby lady teased, though her eyes betrayed a hint of envy.

Shen Ningshuang stood quietly, slightly embarrassed by the scene.

After paying respects to the Empress, the three men’s gazes converged on her.

She forced herself to return a bow and said, “Your Highness, please forgive me—my earlier words were but a jest. My modest swordsmanship scarcely merits your attention, and I would not wish to disturb your refined amusement.”

The Crown Prince spared her no courtesy. With a slight sneer, he retorted, “I would expect nothing less. This garden’s beauty clashes with the flash of blades and swordplay. Let us instead see which painting has earned Mother’s praise.”

Shen Wan’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smile, a flush of shyness coloring her cheeks as she silently thanked the Crown Prince for arriving just in time, lest her moment in the spotlight be stolen again.

Unexpectedly, the Third Prince Leng Zhaowen’s gentle voice broke the tension.

“Brother Crown Prince, every year this flower-viewing banquet features paintings. Surely Mother has grown weary of it. Today, Fourth Miss Shen wishes to try something new to bring Mother joy. Surely we should support such filial intent. Moreover, General Shen has long been admired by your humble servant. I dare say Miss Shen has inherited her father’s exceptional qualities—we might as well seize this chance to broaden our horizons.”

The Crown Prince frowned, immediately dismissing the notion. “A young lady should be gentle and manage the household, studying needlework and poetry. Swordplay is hardly proper conduct.”

At that moment, the Empress smiled warmly. “I find your words most sensible, Wen’er. Fourth Miss Shen, since you have spoken, do not refuse. Let us all enjoy the spectacle.”

A headache blossomed in Shen Ningshuang’s mind.

Her earlier words had been mere excuse, never intending to stand out or act differently. Yet now she found herself grilled before everyone, the Empress clearly targeting her with some hidden purpose—though what it was, she could not guess.

Before she could ponder further, the Empress commanded, “Someone, clear a space for Fourth Miss Shen.”

Immediately, a sword was thrust into her hands.

The sword felt heavy. Shen Ningshuang knew well that women’s sword dances required light, delicate blades to allow graceful, buoyant movements. This weighty weapon was no accident.

Was this some cruel joke at her expense?

If so, they were sorely mistaken. Shen Ningshuang’s own brand of spectacle was not so easily mocked.

She showed no fear. With a flick of her wrist, the blade seemed alive, like a white serpent dancing in the wind. The sword’s shadow flickered as if the blossoms of late spring scattered in a dazzling, mesmerizing swirl, blurring the eyes of all who watched.

Experts would know instinctively whether she had skill or not.

In an instant, her movements became fluid and agile, as if a swallow skimmed the water’s surface, weightless and unfettered. The sword seemed to possess a spirit of its own, moving in perfect harmony with her body and mind. Blades of fierce energy blended with elegant form, strength and grace intertwined, creating a scene breathtaking in its beauty.

Ethereal as a celestial being, proud and independent, she danced fiercely in her pink gown, like clouds unfurling across the sky. Her black hair cascaded freely, wild and unrestrained. The pink garment blossomed like a flower in full bloom, the sword gleamed colder than snow, and her eyes and brows radiated an indescribable, refined elegance. Her noble bearing was as if a deity had descended to earth, stunning all present.

The performance left the audience utterly amazed. Those with discerning eyes noticed that despite the length and intensity of the dance, Shen Ningshuang showed no sign of sweat or breathlessness.

The Empress applauded enthusiastically. “Wonderful, exquisite! Truly a feast for the eyes. Fourth Miss Shen is worthy of being a general’s daughter, her innate talent so extraordinary, as if a celestial being walking among mortals. It is a revelation.”

The Third Prince’s lips curved in a faint smile, his deep, inscrutable gaze fixed quietly on Shen Ningshuang.

She watched him in return, but his smile was flawless, betraying nothing.

The Empress’s thoughts were complex. Her test of Shen Ningshuang today was meant to gauge the young woman’s worth, to see if she merited the Crown Prince’s risk in defying imperial will to marry her.

Clearly, Shen Ningshuang’s display had surprised her.

Her gaze then shifted to Shen Wan, who stared at Shen Ningshuang with eyes full of shame and resentment, as if willing to burn holes into her with a glare.

Shaking her head inwardly, the Empress realized the truth—being a concubine’s daughter, Shen Wan’s emotions were never well concealed. She had merely offered Shen Ningshuang a little praise, and Shen Wan had already revealed such a spiteful demeanor.