After Entering The Abusive Novel, I Became The Empress - chapter 20

“Welcome, honored guests, to the Poetry and Wine Gathering.”

A maid beside Qin Youran raised her voice. “Today, you shall feast your eyes. The items to be auctioned this evening are treasures beyond value.”

Qin Youran’s eyes burned with wild pride as she looked at Qin Yuqing. Raising her wine cup, she mimicked what Qin Yuqing had once done at her birthday banquet, splashing the wine at her feet.

“Today, we are most honored to have Sixth Sister among us. Why not let everyone meet this little sister of mine, a beauty to rival the fairies themselves?” Her tone, as always, was careless and mocking. She smirked at Qin Yuqing. “Come now, sister. Don’t keep them waiting.”

The crowd below grew rowdy once more.

“Did you hear? She actually defeated Guo Lin in Wenshan!”

“What’s the big deal? I heard Guo Lin was just being magnanimous—didn’t want to embarrass a woman, so he let her win.”

“Exactly. That Sixth Princess is an empty-headed fool. If not for those military officers interfering, who knows who would’ve really won? And that Chen Cairen is useless too—what could she possibly know…”

“Ah!”

A piercing scream cut through the air. The woman who had been gossiping shrieked, stumbling backward in terror until she hit the wall.

Where she had stood moments ago, a small, unusual arrow was buried in the floor. Around its fletching was a ring of red seal-marking.

“Who are you, brandishing weapons here?!”

“If you can’t control your tongue, best not to use it. If you can’t control your mouth, best not to keep it. Next time, I won’t be aiming for the floor.” Qin Yuqing’s voice was calm, but the menace in it was unmistakable.

She stroked the bow in her hands. It was a design she had sketched herself in Wenshan. She’d handed the drawings over that very morning, and by evening the palace craftsmen had delivered the finished product.

Song Yirou stepped closer, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Instead of stopping Qin Yuqing, she studied the weapon. It was smaller than a woman’s bow should be, almost toy-like—but she had seen it strike. Its power was weaker than a full-sized bow, but at close range, it was more than enough to kill.

“What is this?”

Qin Yuqing folded the bow and tucked it into her sleeve before Song Yirou could examine further. Smiling lightly, she said, “As you see—a bow. If Miss Song is interested, perhaps you’ll reconsider my earlier proposal.”

Before Song Yirou could answer, the woman below cried out again, “Song Yirou! I was nearly killed, and you smile and make nice with the assailant. Do you mean to harm your own sister?!”

The shrill accusations grated on Qin Yuqing’s ears. Was the Chancellor’s estate hoarding all its intelligence in Song Yirou alone? The rest of them seemed born deficient.

“Sixth Sister, bold as ever.” Qin Youran finally spoke, after enjoying the spectacle for a while.

Qin Yuqing rested one hand on the railing, smiling at her Fifth Sister. “Elder Sister, you heard what that lady just said.”

“And what of it?”

“Calling me a criminal? Me?” Qin Yuqing’s eyes swept coldly over the accuser, whose gaze, like Song Yaozu’s, held no reverence for the royal family.

Qin Youran raised a brow. “Surely she doesn’t mean me.”

“But dear sister, by our laws, a criminal is one who has killed three or more people within seven days. Tell me—when was the Wenshan flower banquet?” Her tone turned mocking, a mirror of Qin Youran’s own. “Or perhaps Father and the Ministry of Justice failed their investigation? I clearly recall the Ministry stood by my side at the time.”

Qin Youran’s expression did not change, but a flicker of disdain showed in her eyes as she turned to the girl below. “Perhaps Miss Song Jiao is unwell—hysteria, perhaps.”

Song Jiao? Qin Yuqing remembered little of her from the original tale, save that she died foolishly.

“Fifth Princess, you must see—it was she—” Song Jiao tried to protest.

“Guards, take Second Miss away. Summon a physician.” Song Yirou cut her off smoothly, then bent in apology. “My sister is ill. Forgive her offense.”

“In that case, do not forget your promise,” Qin Youran said coolly, dabbing her armored hand with a handkerchief.

“Of course.”

Just as Song Yirou was about to present something, Qin Yuqing interjected, “Remember—I only value you.”

Song Yirou froze. She hadn’t expected those words, and they left her unsettled—sad, aggrieved, yet oddly thrilled.

“Decide when you’re ready. You know where to find me.” Qin Yuqing patted her shoulder.

From across the way, Qin Youran observed all this, then quietly penned a letter, which she passed to a maid with whispered instructions. The maid slipped out at once.

Meanwhile, the crowd could not forget Qin Yuqing’s earlier motion—how fluidly she had drawn her bow, how cold and merciless her eyes as she loosed the arrow.

“Enough, enough. Surely you haven’t come all this way just to watch a squabble.” Qin Youran snapped her fan open and popped a peeled lychee into her mouth.

“Tonight, we present a marvel—said to possess divine power.” Her tone dripped with mystery.

Qin Yuqing nearly rolled her eyes. She believed in science, not in gods and monsters.

“Because this auction lot is so rare—a matched pair—the bidding will begin with a qualification round.”

At the maid’s announcement, voices rose in a flurry of bids from the hall and from the upper boxes.

“What’s this ‘qualification’?” Qin Yuqing asked Song Yirou.

“When an item is rare enough, the bidding has two stages. The first round is for qualification—the highest bidder gains the right to see the item. The second round continues from that price.” Song Yirou placed a plate of peeled lychees before her.

“If the qualification-holder wins the final auction, they get a discount. But if they lose, their qualification fee is nonrefundable.”

Qin Yuqing nodded thoughtfully. It reminded her of modern deposit-based preorders—nonrefundable, of course.

As the bids dwindled, she silently memorized the faces of those still competing. Useful to know later, perhaps.

“Sixth Princess, aren’t you bidding?” Song Yirou peeled another plate of lychees.

“Broke. No money. And no interest.” Qin Yuqing pouted. In the story, the heroine’s monthly allowance had always been unfairly cut. Surviving was hard enough—saving was impossible.

“Lychees cause heat. Don’t eat too many.” She watched Song Yirou rinse her fingers. “Why peel them yourself when you have maids?”

“I’m used to it. I trust my own hands.”

Qin Yuqing said nothing more.

At last, a young man named Li won the qualification at thirteen thousand taels of silver. The hall erupted in fawning praise.

Qin Yuqing mentally converted the sum into modern currency and whistled silently.

“Congratulations, Young Master Li,” the maid said with a practiced smile. “Now, break the token in your hand to unveil the lot.” She tossed him a wooden token.

Li caught it eagerly, beaming as his companions flattered him.

With exaggerated force, he snapped the token in half, grunting loudly as if to impress. Behind his back, his “friends” rolled their eyes before quickly plastering on more smiles.

A rumble shook the hall. The central floor split apart, panels sliding open.

“How marvelous!” gasped someone who had never seen such mechanisms.

From her vantage in the second-floor balcony, Qin Yuqing could clearly see thick ropes being pulled by servants, lifting something hidden below.

Water gushed into the cavity. A massive iron-bound cage rose slowly, chains rattling. Something moved inside.

As the water settled, the contents were revealed.

A boy, shielding a girl tightly in his arms. His glare was feral, his hoarse cry like a beast cornered.

The girl cowered, curled small, sobbing softly.

“As you can see,” Qin Youran said smoothly, setting down her teacup, “this is tonight’s treasure: twins from Arhan.”

The hall erupted. Some gazes burned with greed, others with lust as they stared at the girl.

Both children wore white garments, soaked to transparency, their skin faintly visible beneath—temptation wrapped in cruelty.

“I’ve heard Arhan women are born with a natural fragrance. The stronger the scent, the more blessed she is. A wife like that ensures household peace and wealth.” A man licked his lips.

“Forget the girl. The boy is the true prize.” A woman stroked her cheek languidly. “It’s said washing your face with the bl00d of an Arhan male halts aging, leaving skin soft and youthful.”

“You’re all too crude. Don’t you know why Arhan never bears twins?”

“Why?”

“Because twins are said to commune with the gods.”

The crowd buzzed, indifferent to the children’s terror.

The boy roared, clutching the bars, but a servant jabbed him back with a wooden pole.

Qin Yuqing’s eye twitched. These two were beyond her reach financially.

“Of course, as you see, their wildness isn’t yet broken. Be careful lest they hurt you,” Qin Youran said, smiling faintly.

“The Fifth Princess gifts us such wonders—what’s a little wildness?”

“I prefer them untamed.”

“Their bl00d will be even more potent this way.”

Qin Yuqing’s stomach turned. No matter the age, no matter the world—this was something she could never allow.

“The bidding will be steep,” Song Yirou murmured, patting her hand. She slipped her a token. “I admire you, Sixth Princess. Here—three thousand taels, my own earnings.”

Qin Yuqing shook her head. Money wouldn’t work.

“There is… another way.” Song Yirou tapped her finger against the wine on the table. “Light the wine lamp. Then you may claim the lot without silver.”

“What’s the wine lamp?”

“Whoever lights it must drink every last guest under the table. If they fail, they pay the entire bill of the night.” Song Yirou had just taken a sip of water when she heard Qin Yuqing declare—

“I’ll light the wine lamp. These twins are mine.”

“…?” Song Yirou stared, stunned.

Qin Yuqing leaned lazily against the railing, her eyes sweeping the hall. Her smile blazed with defiance.

“Well? Who’ll challenge me first?”