Some alluring images surfaced in his mind, and even Song Qingshu—with his usual composure—found his face growing warm.
He quickly offered a silent moment of pity for Zhao Gou. *What a pity that this eunuch emperor had no way to enjoy such boundless luxury and beauty. Then again, perhaps this was heaven’s retribution for him. Killing a man like Yue Fei—this punishment was far too light.*
Ah Ke instructed the palace maids to prepare hot water for washing, then flung herself behind Chen Yuanyuan. “Mother, let me help you remove your makeup.”
“You’re still so rash, even after becoming an imperial consort.” Chen Yuanyuan shot her an exasperated look, then continued, “Have you forgotten that I’m currently practicing Buddhism with my hair still uncut? I don’t wear makeup on ordinary days, let alone jewelry. There’s no makeup for you to remove.”
“Oh~” Ah Ke stuck out her tongue sheepishly.
“Then let me help you remove yours instead.” Chen Yuanyuan smiled gently, pressed her daughter’s shoulders to seat her in front of the dressing table, and began removing the ornaments from her hair one by one.
“I don’t want to be this so-called imperial consort anymore.” Looking at her reflection in the bronze mirror, Ah Ke suddenly pouted.
Chen Yuanyuan’s expression flickered with alarm. She glanced quickly at the nearby palace maids, and only after confirming they weren’t paying attention did she whisper, “Silly child, you mustn’t say such things.”
Ah Ke tossed her comb onto the table and pouted. “I have to wear so many things on my head every time I go out. It’s so annoying.”
Seeing that her daughter was merely sulking over such a trivial matter, Chen Yuanyuan couldn’t help but laugh. As she combed her daughter’s hair, she said, “What childish talk. Countless women would kill for the chance to wear what you’re wearing.”
Ah Ke suddenly sighed. “Mother, you were a princess-consort too. Were you truly happy being one?”
Chen Yuanyuan was taken aback. Countless images flooded her mind—scenes from the past decades flashing one after another. She let out a melancholy sigh. *When was I ever truly happy?*
Seeing her mother’s dejected expression in the mirror, Ah Ke quickly rose to comfort her. “It’s my fault, Mother. I brought up painful memories.”
“It’s nothing. It only shows that my cultivation hasn’t reached its destination yet. I’ve practiced Buddhism for so many years and thought I had achieved tranquility. I never expected I still couldn’t face it calmly.” Though Chen Yuanyuan’s tone was sorrowful, her voice remained soft and alluring.
Watching her—radiant when she smiled, heartbreakingly beautiful when she was sad—Song Qingshu’s heart was filled with nothing but pity. *What a pity I was born decades too late. If only I could have protected her and spared her the misfortunes that plagued her life.*
Then he laughed at himself. *Why am I thinking like Wu Sangui or Li Zicheng? I must take their example as a cautionary tale.*
At that moment, Ah Ke seemed to have been reminded of her own sorrows as well. Mother and daughter stood there, both lost in thought.
Li Yuanzhi, perched on the beam beside Song Qingshu, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Brother Song, maybe we should leave.”
Song Qingshu wrapped an arm around her slender waist. “Since we’re already here, it would be a pity to leave now, wouldn’t it?”
“But there are people down there now. We can’t exactly get into Consort Wu’s bed.” Li Yuanzhi was frustrated. She had only been speaking casually earlier and hadn’t truly intended to do anything on that woman’s bed—she just didn’t like the woman’s haughty manner and wanted to get back at her a little.
“Don’t worry, I have my ways. We just have to wait for these palace maids to leave first.” Song Qingshu reassured her. In fact, he could have subdued the entire room full of palace maids even now, but the more people involved, the more troublesome the aftermath.
At that moment, a procession of palace maids filed in, carrying basins of hot water. Song Qingshu glanced at them from afar. Even with his wide knowledge, he could only recognize a few of the items, and he clicked his tongue in amazement. The Southern Song Dynasty truly was the orthodox successor of Han civilization—their rituals were far more refined than those of the Qing or Jin.
Still, he wasn’t particularly fond of all this formality. After his initial surprise, he felt a hint of disdain. *All of this comes from the people’s hard-earned taxes…* Perhaps because he had been an ordinary person in his previous life, even though he had risen to a high station in this world, he still often saw things from an ordinary person’s perspective.
After Chen Yuanyuan and Ah Ke washed their faces, several palace maids stood by with white jade rollers, gently rubbing, wiping, and rolling them over their faces. Song Qingshu’s vision was excellent, and he could tell at a glance that the jade rollers were made of precious specialized white jade—extremely valuable. Though he didn’t know the specifics, he could roughly guess the purpose. In this world, people believed that jade was the substance that could best store “qi,” containing pure yin and yang energies with miraculous effects on health and beauty. This was probably for skincare.
Next, other maids brought freshly peeled hard-boiled eggs and gently rolled them over the two women’s faces, allowing their skin to fully absorb the egg’s nutrients.
Soon, a third group of maids stepped forward, holding dishes of high-quality pearl powder and lightly applying it to their faces.
“…”
Even Li Yuanzhi was left wide-eyed, let alone Song Qingshu.
Song Qingshu thought to himself, *Even the women of my previous life probably didn’t have such elaborate skincare routines. And judging by how accustomed these two are to it, they’ve been raised this way since childhood. No wonder both of them are so breathtakingly beautiful—their skin whiter than milk, tenderer than tofu.*
But in times of chaos like these, without a powerful man to protect them, the better they maintained themselves, the more they would become playthings for every powerful predator.
After the facial treatments, other maids knelt at their feet, removed their shoes and stockings, and placed their feet into wooden basins filled with rose petals floating on the water.
Song Qingshu couldn’t help but admire the sight. Not only did mother and daughter resemble each other, but even the length and size of their jade-like feet were identical. It was as if the most masterful artist had carved them from the same piece of jade—no, such an artist surely did not exist in this mortal world. Only the divine craftsmanship of heaven could produce such a miraculous effect.
Watching those feet, whiter than milk, Li Yuanzhi felt nothing but regret. *Why did I even come here? I’m just t0rturing myself.* She turned to look at Song Qingshu, only to find him staring intently. Fuming, she reached out and covered his eyes. “You’re not allowed to look!”
Song Qingshu wasn’t the sort of lecherous voyeur who would get angry at having his eyes covered. Instead, he lovingly pulled Li Yuanzhi into his arms and whispered in her ear, “If Yuanzhi says I can’t look, then I won’t.”
Li Yuanzhi’s anger turned to joy. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile, and she gave a triumphant little hum. “That’s more like it~”
The young woman in his arms had gently arched lips and eyes like a starry night sky, radiating an enigmatic glow. Song Qingshu thought to himself, *Though Yuanzhi may not be as strikingly beautiful as Chen Yuanyuan and Ah Ke, there’s a unique charm in her lively, mischievous vitality. And more importantly, she loves me deeply. Her pure, crystal-clear maiden’s heart is more precious than anything.*
“Why are you staring at me like that~” Li Yuanzhi’s fair cheeks flushed with a hint of rosiness, and she shyly lowered her head.
“Because you’re beautiful,” Song Qingshu paused, then leaned close to her ear and said softly, “So beautiful that I’m already eager to….”