Chapter Thirty-Eight: Composure Before the Competition

After returning to the Palace of the Jade Orb, the maids who were still busy gathered around, fussing over her well-being. "Your Grace, how did the negotiations go?"

At their words, Hua Rong shook her head. "The Emperor refused. Looks like our fate is sealed..."

To lose face tomorrow was to lose royal dignity; she feared her head and body would soon part ways. The bloody scene flashed in her mind, making Hua Rong shudder involuntarily, her terror plain for all to see.

"What should I do? At last I get to live again, yet I haven't enjoyed any of it..." The more she dwelled on it, the more cheated she felt. Nearby, a maid was baffled, "Your Grace, what are you talking about? 'Live again'?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Anyway, hurry up and find a few maids skilled in dance to teach me!" This was the only option left.

But hearing this, Su Xin looked troubled. "Your Grace, are you jesting? Tomorrow you must compete with that foreign woman; they're all the cream of the crop. The musicians and dancers in the palace are adequate for the stage, but to have them teach you? Isn't that a recipe for embarrassment?"

Her words were not without reason, but they left Hua Rong flustered, scratching her head and fidgeting restlessly on her seat.

"So what do you suggest? This won't do, that won't do. They say heaven never bars one's way, yet I feel death looming closer!" She pondered her fate, wondering whom she had offended. She only wished to escape worldly concerns and live as a carefree recluse, but trouble kept finding her, as if Heaven itself enjoyed tormenting her.

Hua Rong slapped her forehead and closed her eyes, as if performing a final lament. The others could only look on helplessly.

"Your Grace, if your dancing truly fails, perhaps you could consider other talents—anything that would outshine those foreign women."

"Exactly, you always have such clever tricks up your sleeve."

Just three ladies-in-waiting circled her, brainstorming, though their suggestions were fanciful at best.

"Wait, something novel?" Hua Rong stroked her chin, her thoughts pouring forth.

After all, she was a figure thousands of years ahead of this era; surely she had plenty of tricks, but she needed something appropriate and dignified...

"They want me to dance tonight, and though I have some foundation, I’m hardly skilled. But if novelty is the aim..." Hua Rong mused for a moment, then suddenly clapped her hands together. "I’ve got it!"

The others, relieved, hurried over eagerly. "Your Grace, what have you thought of?"

Having reached a dead end, this hope of salvation stirred anticipation.

"There's no time to explain; you wouldn't understand anyway. Bring me brush, ink, paper, and inkstone!" Hua Rong waved her hands, commanding them.

Once everything was prepared, she swiftly sketched a design for a dress on the paper and handed it to Su Xin. "Go and have this made for me. Tomorrow, at the friendship competition, I’ll appear in this."

Su Xin nodded, but on looking down, she was speechless. "Your Grace, are you serious?"

Though the drawing lacked color and flair, its messy, crooked lines formed a muddled heap—without being told it was a dress, one could hardly guess its purpose.

She examined it carefully, sensing something amiss. "Is this really a dress?"

Her doubts drew the other maids over, who also dealt a blow. "This drawing... so abstract!"

"Yes, I can't tell what it's supposed to be at all. Is it some kind of symbolic painting?"

"..."

"If you don’t understand, say no more. Just follow my instructions, all right? Time is of the essence!" Hua Rong did her utmost to maintain a smile, biting her lip to suppress her exasperation.

She’d never learned to draw, so achieving this was already commendable. Besides, she thought it looked just fine—nothing to fuss about.

Thus, Su Xin could only nod. "Very well, Your Grace."

The maids dispersed to their tasks, leaving Hua Rong to practice her dancing alone in the courtyard.

From afar, Jun Yechen stood atop the roof, observing thoughtfully. "What is this novel dance? I've never seen anything like it."

He studied her for a moment; though he’d traveled far and seen many wonders, Hua Rong’s approach was truly unique.

After pondering, he chuckled softly. "This dance, paired with ordinary things, would lack impact. Let me lend a hand."

With that, the man leapt away from the scene.

That night, Hua Rong managed only two brief hours of rest.

Come morning, a clamor arose outside. "Everyone, make ready! The foreign envoys have entered the palace and are heading to the competition grounds. The consorts participating in the friendship contest, hurry up and join them!"

Hua Rong donned a plain gown and was swept into the competition arena.

As everyone sought to surprise, the participating consorts had scarcely appeared in public, hoping to dazzle the audience with today’s spectacle.

In contrast, Hua Rong, wearing her usual floral dress, sat calmly in her seat, unhurriedly sipping wine and eating meat.

Jun Yeli’s gaze never strayed from her, curiosity evident as he softly reminded her, "Consort Rong, have you forgotten your identity for today?"

At this, Hua Rong shook her head. "Rest assured, Your Majesty, I wouldn’t dare forget."

To win glory for the nation was a great honor, and if nothing else, surviving a little longer was reason enough; even in yesterday’s dreams, Hua Rong remembered this task.

She spoke, then quickly took a sip of fruit preserves, the sweet taste lingering on her tongue, tempting her to savor it.

Jun Yeli’s lips twitched, and even Steward Li beside him felt awkward. "Your Majesty, with Consort Rong’s casual attitude, if she carries this onto the competition stage, I fear she’ll bring disgrace..."