A week later, Wei Wuxian sent a formal invitation to Wang Yufei, requesting a meeting to introduce me as his future Consort. In the most sugary, flattering tone imaginable, he praised her refinement and hinted that I—poor, clueless little commoner—could learn from a proper lady like her. Oh, and Lan Wangji? Apparently so eager to see her again.
The bait was shameless, and Yufei bit hard.
Her response came swiftly—an elegantly penned letter scented with peony and smugness. She expressed her "delightful surprise" and welcomed us with the sort of warmth that meant I'm watching you, peasant girl, don't touch what's mine.
We arrived at Minister Wang's estate the following evening. The place was, in a word, obnoxious. Grand gates towered above us, carved with dragons and clouds like the gods themselves lived here. The courtyard was absurdly pristine, with lantern-lit koi ponds, trees trimmed into perfect domes, and not a single leaf out of place. You could probably eat off the stone pathways.
Yufei swept out to greet us, glowing like a Disney villainess at a gala. Her gown was a masterpiece of emerald and gold silk, and her hairpins probably cost more than my rent—if I had rent, which I guess I didn't anymore. Her smile was all glittering grace and sharp teeth.
"Welcome, Prince Wei, Hanguang-jun, Miss Mei Lin," she said smoothly, every syllable wrapped in silk and subtle challenge. "It's an honor to have you all here."
Oh, she was thrilled I was there. Just radiating sisterly affection.
She led us through a labyrinth of halls so decorated they probably had their own bodyguards. Porcelain vases the size of small children, tapestries that looked like they'd taken decades to embroider, and floors so polished I could see my anxious reflection in them.
Finally, we arrived at the dining room. It was a marvel of refinement, with walls lined in embroidered silk panels depicting mountains, cranes, and flowing rivers. Ornate lanterns hung from carved wooden beams, casting a warm golden glow over a polished rosewood table set with fine porcelain dishes and lacquered chopsticks. Silk cushions surrounded the low table, and the air was rich with the aroma of freshly prepared delicacies—steamed fish, honeyed lotus roots, and delicately spiced duck.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Yufei said, gesturing gracefully to the cushions. "I had something special prepared for us. I do hope you enjoy it."
Translation: I hope your peasant tongue can handle noble seasoning, sweetheart.
Wei Wuxian inquired smoothly, "Is Minister Wang at home this evening?"
Yufei shook her head with a small, theatrical sigh, her expression tinged with disappointment. "No, he was summoned to the palace earlier today and will be staying there overnight."
"How unfortunate," Wei Wuxian replied, his voice laced with practiced regret. "I was hoping to greet your father personally." Of course, it had been his plan all along to keep the minister away from the estate.
After a few more pleasantries, Yufei excused herself to check on the next course. The moment she disappeared beyond the screen, I leaned toward Wei Wuxian and whispered, "How are we supposed to search the place?"
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulled a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve. "We slip this into her cup."
I narrowed my eyes at the bottle. "What is it?"
"A sleeping draught," he said casually, as if we were discussing tea preferences instead of light drugging.
Before I could object—or panic—a golden butterfly fluttered into the room, gliding gracefully through the lantern light. It landed on Lan Wangji's outstretched hand. His eyes closed briefly, and a soft pulse of spiritual energy passed through the air. When he opened them again, he glanced at me but remained silent.
Yufei reentered just in time to see the butterfly vanish into a shimmer of light. Her eyes widened, lips parting in admiration. "A golden spirit butterfly? Hanguang-jun, you truly are extraordinary."
Her cheeks colored delicately. I caught Wei Wuxian rolling his eyes and had to fight back a smirk.
After the main course, Yufei rose gracefully. "Would you like a tour of the estate?"
We agreed, and she led us through winding corridors of carved wood and brocade curtains, eventually arriving at a secluded garden pavilion. The view overlooked a moonlit lotus pond, and the table was already prepared—porcelain cups, a tray of fruits, and two elegant wine pots.
Wei Wuxian's eyes gleamed as he sat down. "Is this… Emperor's Smile?"
Yufei beamed. "Of course, Prince Wei. I've heard it's your favorite."
Then she turned to Lan Wangji, her voice softer, almost shy. "And for Hanguang-jun, I've arranged the finest spring-picked tea. I know you do not drink."
He nodded in polite acknowledgment, though his expression remained unreadable.
I glanced between them and whispered to myself, This woman set the entire stage like a romantic drama. I hope we remember the part where we're here to break into her father's study.
Wei Wuxian raised his cup, pausing just long enough to make it noticeable. His eyes flicked to Lan Wangji, who gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod. Turning back to Yufei, Wei Wuxian offered a smile and declared, "This wine is excellent."
Then, without warning, he stood and reached for my hand. "If you'll excuse us," he said cheerfully, "I'd like a private moment with my future Consort. You understand… romance."
He added a dramatic wink in Yufei's direction before whisking me out of the room like a rogue from some overly dramatic palace novel.
Once we were safely tucked away in a side corridor, I yanked my hand back. "What the hell was that?"
His grin vanished. "The wine was drugged."
"What?!"
"I sealed my meridians the moment it touched my tongue," he said, already pressing a few points along his neck and chest. A second later, he coughed up a mouthful of dark blood.
I panicked. "Wei Ying! Are you okay?!"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve like this was just a mildly inconvenient hiccup in his evening. "Fine. It's a low-dose sleeping agent. She wasn't trying to kill me. Just… knock me out."
I stared at him. "Why would she want to drug you?!"
"Isn't it obvious?" he said with a smirk. "Yufei's got a plan. Probably thinks if I pass out in her residence, she can stage some scandal and force a marriage—or humiliate me publicly. Either way, I'm curious what she's after."
"You're going to let her think you're drugged? That's insane!"
He shrugged. "It's also fun."
I opened my mouth to object again, but before I could, he reached over and mussed up his hair. Then—because apparently nothing was sacred—he ruffled mine, too.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
He leaned back, satisfied. "If I come back looking too perfect, it won't sell. You and I need to look like we snuck off for a secret love session."
I stared at him. "You are literally the worst."
"Thank you," he said brightly. "Now remember—don't drink anything from that table unless you want to spend the evening drooling on your sleeve."
He grinned, masking the stakes behind that signature mischief. As we strolled back to the gazebo, Wei Wuxian wobbled ever so slightly, slurring his words with theatrical flair. Honestly, it was so convincing I had to remind myself he wasn't actually drunk. Give that man a sash and an award.
Yufei's face lit up the moment she saw us return—giddy, amused, and completely unaware she'd just lost the game she thought she was winning. "Looks like you two had a bit too much fun," she purred, her voice syrupy with flirtation.
Wei Wuxian gave a laugh, his arm casually draping over my shoulders. "Just a li'l too much Emperor's Smile," he slurred. Then, with a dramatic glance at me, added, "Plus Mei Lin's very pretty."
I did my best to look appropriately bashful. Internally, I was counting how many seconds it would take for Lan Wangji to combust.
True to form, Lan Wangji's jaw tightened ever so slightly. His voice was low, steady, and unimpressed. "Wei Ying. You're too drunk."
That was his version of stop humiliating yourself immediately.
Yufei stepped in smoothly, smiling as if she hadn't just drugged the crown prince. "Prince Wei, please rest in the guest chamber. I'll have the servants escort you." She clapped her hands, and a pair of attendants scurried forward to assist him.
Then—just as Wei Wuxian stood—one of the servants "accidentally" tripped, bumping the table. The wine jar tilted, tumbled, and shattered, sending a splash of liquor straight across Lan Wangji's pristine robes.
A pause. A sharp intake of breath. And then—
Yufei gasped, horrified. "Hanguang-jun! I am so, so sorry!" she exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own apology as she rushed toward him. "I'll have clean robes brought right away—please, follow the servant to the changing room."
As Lan Wangji was politely ushered away in a trail of silk and silent rage, I blinked. That couldn't have been planned… right?
Or maybe Wei Wuxian just had really good luck.
As I accompanied Wei Wuxian to the guest room, the servants helped him onto the bed with exaggerated care. Yufei turned to me with a saccharine smile that barely disguised her real agenda. "You may stay with Prince Wei until he sobers up," she said sweetly, like she was doing me a favor. With a graceful turn and a flutter of sleeves, she left us alone.
The moment the door clicked shut, Wei Wuxian sat up like nothing had happened. Gone was the drunken prince—his eyes were clear, sharp, and pissed. "Oh, I see what she's doing."
I blinked. "What?"
"She wants to be alone with Lan Zhan," he muttered, tone dark. "I guarantee he's been drugged too."
I felt a jolt of panic. "But Lan Zhan—he knows how to block poison, right?"
Wei Wuxian gave a confident nod. "He does. He'll press the right acupoints the moment he feels it."
It helped—slightly. I still felt like my stomach was a tightly knotted scarf. "So what now?"
"I'm going to switch places with him." His voice was resolute. "You stay here. Blow out the candle and leave the window open."
I nodded, following his instructions. The candle flickered and died, casting the room into darkness. Moonlight spilled in through the open window, brushing the floor with silvery light. I sat quietly, heart thudding like a war drum, the silence so complete I could hear every creak of wood and whisper of fabric.
Then came a soft thud. He was gone. Out the window like some stealthy hero from a wuxia novel. And I was left sitting in the dark like a conveniently placed plot device.
A few long minutes passed, stretching into what felt like hours. My imagination did backflips. Every shadow looked guilty.
The door creaked open.
A tall figure stepped in, framed by moonlight.
"Lan Zhan?" I asked, breath hitching.
"Yes," came the steady reply.
Relief washed over me as he moved to the chair across from me and sat down with the grace of a man who could probably sword fight in his sleep.
"Is Wei Wuxian in the other room?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yes."
"Maybe we can go search for the ledger now," I suggested, hope sparking again.
Lan Wangji stood—but then faltered.
Alarmed, I leapt to my feet and grabbed his arm. "Lan Zhan?! Are you drugged?"
He didn't answer immediately. He pressed his fingers to several acupoints, trying to neutralize it. Then he tried again. And again. His brow furrowed. "It's not working."
Panic bloomed in my chest.
Oh no.
This wasn't part of the plan.
Suddenly, Lan Wangji collapsed to the floor. Panic surged through me like a jolt of electricity.
"I need to get help!" I gasped, already turning toward the door.
But his hand shot out and gripped my wrist—firm, unyielding. "Wait... we can't mess up Wei Ying's plan," he said, voice thick and strained.
His palm was burning. I touched his forehead. It was scorching.
"Lan Zhan, you're burning up," I whispered, dread pooling in my stomach. Something was seriously wrong.
And then—something in his eyes changed. A sharp inhale, and suddenly he lunged, falling onto me. His breath hit my neck, warm and uneven, and then—
What. The. Actual. Hell.
His lips brushed my skin.
"LAN ZHAN!" I yelled, heart slamming against my ribs. "GET OFF ME! What the frick are you doing?!"
I thrashed beneath him, panic rising like a tide. It hit me in one horrifying wave: this wasn't alcohol. He'd been drugged with something entirely different—something meant to break him.
He was strong—too strong—and I couldn't get free.
"Help!" I screamed, my voice cracking with desperation. "Somebody help!"
The door burst open.
Lanterns flooded the room with light as Wei Wuxian, Yufei, and a cluster of stunned servants rushed in.
Wei Wuxian didn't hesitate. He sprinted across the room, yanked Lan Wangji off of me, and struck a pressure point at the back of his neck with brutal precision. Lan Wangji slumped instantly, unconscious.
I sat up, trembling and breathless, hair falling into my face as I clutched my robe together.
Yufei stood frozen in the doorway. Her perfectly painted expression twisted into something raw—shock, fury, and worst of all, disappointment.
She wasn't looking at Wei Wuxian. She wasn't looking at Lan Wangji.
She was looking at me.
Like all of this was my fault.
And for the first time in a long time, I wanted to slap someone with a scroll.