The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 30

Xiao Beitang returned to Zichen Palace, feeling a mixture of guilt and secret delight. She sat on the windowsill, staring fixedly at the western wing for a long time.

So, this was why she hadn’t come out the past few days?

Her rut had lasted this long—it must’ve been excruciating. Yesterday, even with powder on her face, the dark circles under her eyes were still visible. She probably hadn’t rested well at all.

The more Xiao Beitang thought about it, the more frustrated she became. But no answers came to her.

She was quietly wallowing in regret when Song Qingqian, dressed in her sleepwear, returned from the bath. At a glance, she spotted Xiao Beitang leaning against the window and smiled lightly. “Your Highness, why are you sitting out here?”

Xiao Beitang had been lost in thought. Seeing her standing there in just her nightclothes, she was momentarily spellbound. The faint scent of orchids lingered in the air—barely there, yet distinctly alluring.

“Your Highness?” Song Qingqian called again, craning her neck slightly, noticing her dazed look.

“Oh! I—” Xiao Beitang had intended to hop down, forgetting her legs were still crossed. She fell clumsily from the windowsill.

A group of attendants hurried over to help her, and Song Qingqian was no exception. Feeling awkward, Xiao Beitang patted the dust off her clothes and gave a sheepish chuckle. “I’m fine, really, it’s nothing.”

At this moment, Song Qingqian was even closer. The dim golden light from the window and the soft glow of moonlight intertwined across her figure.

She truly looked like a celestial being. Usually, when she wasn’t smiling, her expression was cool and distant, making her hard to approach. But now, droplets of moisture still clung to her hair, softening her whole demeanor like water.

Xiao Beitang stared at her, completely entranced, her gaze lingering on the gentle curve of her chest—unable to look away.

Song Qingqian glanced down, following her gaze. Her face flushed red in an instant, though fortunately, the night concealed most of it. Was Xiao Beitang used to such sights from brothels? Not even trying to hide it, not the slightest restraint.

Clearing her throat in embarrassment and mild irritation, she said coldly, “Since Your Highness is unharmed, I’ll be taking my leave.”

Xiao Beitang snapped out of her daze and quickly nodded. “Right, go on—don’t catch a chill.” She didn’t catch the faint displeasure in Song Qingqian’s tone.

Song Qingqian turned to leave, still fuming inside.

Xiao Beitang sneezed twice in a row. Rubbing her nose with a finger, she murmured, “Looks like it really is getting chilly…”

That night, she lay in bed, arms crossed, thumbs twirling around each other. Whatever thoughts were running through her mind made her burst into soft laughter now and then.

She rolled around the bed, then lay on her stomach, propping up her chin with both hands, kicking her legs playfully in the air.

Only much later did she finally fall asleep—and slept soundly through the night. The next morning, Xiao Beitang ordered the windows opened early.

Liuzi hesitated, afraid she’d catch a cold, but Xiao Beitang insisted repeatedly.

As she was still rinsing her mouth, Song Qingqian arrived. The room no longer carried Xiao Beitang’s usual scent of pheromones—just the faint fragrance of osmanthus carried in by the wind.

She no longer needed to be woken up. Song Qingqian decided she wouldn’t need to come call her anymore in the mornings.

That day, the Empress was unusually warm—far more affectionate than usual when looking at Song Qingqian, even showing unexpected concern for her health, more than for Xiao Beitang.

Song Qingqian found it all a bit strange—though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

Imperial Physician Zhang, just as Xiao Beitang had instructed, handed Song Qingqian a medicine and carefully explained its effects.

When the physician arrived, Song Qingqian deliberately avoided Xiao Beitang.

She hesitated only a moment before drinking it. And for the entire day, she wasn’t affected at all by Xiao Beitang’s pheromones.

In truth, Xiao Beitang had secretly brought along a sachet infused with oolong. Once she knew her pheromones affected Song Qingqian, she began restraining herself completely, not releasing even the faintest trace. What Song Qingqian had smelled was not Xiao Beitang’s pheromones at all.

“Look at this puppet—don’t you think it’s fun?” During a break from class, Xiao Beitang excitedly showed Song Qingqian a puppet that could change its face.

Song Qingqian glanced at it. “It’s amusing.”

Xiao Beitang pushed it toward her, speaking a bit proudly, “If you like it, it’s yours.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Song Qingqian didn’t refuse. Xiao Beitang always threw little tantrums; if she turned her down, there’d be no end to her pouting complaints.

Half a month flew by, and it was finally time for Guozijian to open its doors.

Most of its students came from noble families, and the teachers were all well-known scholars.

Xiao Beitang and Song Qingqian arrived together, one as a student, the other as an instructor.

Upon arrival, they went their separate ways—Song Qingqian had to meet with the dean first.

As Xiao Beitang stepped into the school grounds, she recognized a few faces, though many were unfamiliar.

Was that Li Ningyu? Why was she here too? After Xiao Beitang embarrassed Dunsu in Kunning Palace last time, things had felt strained between her and Li Ningyu.

“Your Highness.” Li Ningyu greeted her as if nothing had happened.

“Oh, Yu’er, what brings you—” Xiao Beitang looked her up and down. Dressed in scholar’s robes? Was she attending classes too? But Guozijian didn’t accept Omegas.

“My mother petitioned both His Majesty and the dean for quite some time before they agreed to let me audit the classes.”

Xiao Beitang nodded. Given Dunsu’s temperament, she’d stop at nothing to get her daughter in. That she was here wasn’t surprising.

“Oh, and outside the palace, call me A-Tang. Jiang Tang.”

Before they came, the Emperor had instructed her to keep her identity secret—for fear of those with ulterior motives.

The same went for Song Qingqian—new name, new identity.

“A-Tang!” From a distance, Xiao Lin waved at her excitedly.

Behind her, a breathless page girl struggled to carry her bag.

Xiao Beitang smiled. “Finally, a familiar face.”

“Where’s Wanqi?” Xiao Lin looked around.

Xiao Wanqi soon arrived, fanning herself with poise, a young servant trailing behind.

“How odd, Wanqi—you’re usually the last to arrive. What made you later than me today?” Xiao Lin teased.

She replied calmly, “I woke up late.”

“Tsk, tsk. The warmth of love sure is different,” Xiao Lin joked.

“Alright, let’s head inside,” Xiao Beitang laughed, leading the way.

They followed quickly. Guozijian sorted students into roughly three classes based on age. Admission wasn’t easy—only a handful of students accepted each year.

Xiao Beitang’s class had about twenty students. Most looked to be from wealthy families, some accompanied by pages or even maids.

A few, though, looked simple and scholarly in plain blue robes.

As for Xiao Lin and the others…

Song Qingqian entered gracefully. She wore plain attire, hair tied neatly back—looking every bit the part of a teacher.

“Good day, Teacher,” the students greeted.

She nodded. “Take your seats.”

Xiao Beitang sat near the center. When she glanced up, their eyes met—but Song Qingqian looked away, focusing her gaze elsewhere.

She looked toward the nearest student—was that Li Ningyu? She had come too?

Song Qingqian felt a hint of gladness. Guozijian had never accepted Omegas. No matter how she got in, perhaps now other Omegas might one day be accepted too.

“My surname is Song. You may address me as Teacher Song.” She gave a formal bow, different from the palace’s greetings.

As she stepped down, she added, “I noticed many of you brought pages—that’s fine. But starting tomorrow, no more maids are allowed.”

A student chuckled, “But Teacher Song, there’s no rule in Guozijian that forbids bringing maids.”

His laugh was mocking, his tone dismissive.

“What is your name?” Song Qingqian looked at him.

“Liu Qing, Teacher,” he replied, still seated.

Song Qingqian lifted her eyes slightly, expression stern. “Do you not even know the basic rules? When addressing a teacher, you must stand.”

“Teacher…” he tried to argue.

“Stand up.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority.

Everyone turned to look—some amused, others frowning.

Reluctantly, he stood, kicking his stool with a loud scrape. That sound always grated on Xiao Beitang.

“I did not scold anyone today for bringing a maid. I said: starting tomorrow, they are not allowed. The academy has its rules, and I have mine. Do you understand?”