The Vicious Supporting Villainess’s Chronicle of Serving Pleasure (Historical 1v1, H) - Chapter 13

Fragrant Islet Pavilion stood by the lakeshore, ringed with jade-green water and ancient trees—especially cool and pleasant in high summer.

At the banquet, the Empress Dowager Yu sat at the central seat of honor; Shen Chiying sat upright to the east of the main place, with the hall below crowded to the brim.

The Empress Dowager had always been frugal; even at a palace feast her dress was extremely plain. To please her, the guests present had all come in light makeup and simple attire.

Shen Chiying alone was the exception.

She wore a gorgeous pomegranate-red palace robe of cloud-brocade woven with gold; the pearls and jade at her crown glittered dazzlingly in the sunlight, making her finely made-up face blaze even more with beauty.

No sooner had the banquet begun than the Empress Dowager set her gaze on Shen Chiying. “I hear the empress has voluntarily donated sixty thousand taels of silver for the army pay at the northwestern front?”

Shen Chiying blinked. She froze for a moment before recalling this matter, then hurried to answer yes.

By the old customs of this dynasty, the empress’s annual stipend was but a thousand taels; however, at the outset of Huan Jin’s marriage he had raised the empress’s treatment to match the Empress Dowager’s, lifting her stipend to ten thousand.

Add to that the daily presents from the Inner Court and the officials of the provinces, and in less than a year Shen Chiying’s private coffer had already surpassed sixty thousand.

But she truly had not expected that when Huan Jin made the donation for her, he would be so precise as to donate exactly sixty thousand…

Forcing herself to stay composed, Shen Chiying said, “This subject-daughter heard that His Majesty has been troubled by the campaign at the front, and truly did not know how to lighten his cares—so I donated my private savings in full, to do what little I could.”

“Very good.” The Empress Dowager inclined her head a fraction—rarely looking upon her with a kinder eye. “Since the empress is thus minded, I too should donate something as an example.”

“Lianxin, have sixty thousand taels counted out from my private treasury and sent as army pay for the front as well.”

“Yes.” The attendant Lianxin received the order and withdrew.

Seeing this, those at table immediately began their flattery in waves—

“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager’s heart is with the people—truly a blessing for the realm!”

“Her Majesty the Empress gives with open hand—an example for the Six Palaces!”

“Though this humble official’s house is meager, I am willing to give what I can…”

For a time, words of praise rose like a tide, one after another, stoking the atmosphere of the feast ever hotter.

In only a few cups of tea, the donation register on the tables ran dense for several pages.

The woman seated in the first place to the west of the main seat, however, had not spoken a word; she sipped her fragrant tea at leisure.

She was the Princess Royal of Fuyang, Huan Qiongying—His Majesty’s aunt and Shen Chiying’s legitimate mother.

At her side, Shen Yilin could not hold his tongue. Using a tea plate to cover, he gave a soft snort. “That b1tch Shen Chiying—good at putting on a show.”

“A plaything who serves by her looks—no amount of silver will wash the baseness from her birth.”

The Princess Royal’s brows knit; she lowered her voice to scold him. “Hold your tongue!”

If the Marquis of Wuxing had not insisted, back then, on entering that wretch into her register, she would never have…

Luckily the wretch had spoken very softly and had not yet disturbed the assembled.

Shen Yilin only curled his lip, eyes full of disdain and contempt—clearly unmoved by his mother’s rebuke.

As the sole legitimate son of the Princess Royal and the Marquis of Wuxing, he had been brought up at his father’s side since childhood.

Whenever the Marquis of Wuxing mentioned the concubine-born daughter who had ruined his career—Shen Chiying—he ground his teeth, like a bone stuck in his throat.

Day after day of such lectures had sunk into Shen Yilin’s bones—a hatred for this concubine-born elder sister.

What burned him most: that low-born girl had dared to usurp another’s place—stealing the empress’s seat that should have been his real sister’s.

Now he prayed day and night for his elder sister to enter the Inner Palace soon, to drag that b1tch down from the empress’s seat and let her taste the fall into dust.

His elder sister Shen Wanhua, however, seemed absent in spirit at that moment. Her fine fingers unconsciously stroked the rim of her tea cup; her gaze drifted far away, heavy with thought.

Since that day, she had found no chance to bring up with Huan Jin their bond from Jingfa Temple ten years before.

Seeing her concubine-born sister win the praise of the whole court with this donation, a sudden unease welled up in Shen Wanhua’s heart—as if something had quietly shifted.

“Wanhua?” The Princess Royal sensed it and lightly clasped her daughter’s cool hand. “Are you unwell?”

Shen Wanhua started and came back to herself, a serene smile blooming at her lips. “Don’t worry, Mother. It’s only the summer heat made me dizzy for a moment.”

She knew well her mother disliked Huan Jin—let alone permitting her to lower her station and enter the palace as a consort. Such thoughts, naturally, could not be spoken plain to her mother.

Meanwhile, to the east of the main seat—

Shen Chiying listened, smiling, to the flattery rolling up around her; now and then her delicate hand lightly stroked the still-flat little belly beneath her gauze skirt, her eyes full of expectation.

She did not know whether that single coupling last night had taken—or whether a few more times would be safer?

Halfway through the banquet, she suddenly felt a scorching gaze dogging her steps like a shadow. She lifted her eyes—and collided with the bottomless pupils of the Prince of Jiangxia, Huan Rui. A tremor went through her heart.

The fourteen-year-old youth sat straight at table, hair bound by a jade crown; a moon-blue python robe set off his clear, handsome looks.

Though there was still a trace of boyishness in his brows and eyes, his gaze had a depth beyond his years—like a cold pool without a bottom.

Shen Chiying’s heart thudded like a drum. She hurriedly dropped her eyes, her fingertips unconsciously digging into her palm.

Knowing the plot to come, she absolutely could not entangle herself with this damned Prince of Jiangxia again.

Huan Rui’s long brows lifted slightly—surprised by his “Aunt Empress’s” reaction.

As the banquet neared its end, the Empress Dowager rose first to depart and especially called for her cherished niece, Shen Wanhua, to attend her carriage.

The summer afternoon sun burned like fire; even the corridor outside the hall steamed with scorching heat.

Shen Chiying wiped sweat with a handkerchief and hastily ordered her phoenix palanquin prepared—she only wanted to return to her bedchamber quickly and escape the heat.

Before her palanquin, however, a figure stepped in to bar her path.