Is this jealousy?

Chapter 62 Is This Jealousy?

The Mid-Autumn banquet was exceptionally lively, with all the imperial concubines and princes of the inner palace gathering together. While normally the place seemed sparsely populated because many lived in seclusion and rarely crossed paths, bringing everyone together revealed a surprisingly large gathering.

Zhao Yi did not have an overabundance of consorts, but the number was certainly not small.

There were Empress Leng and Noble Consort Ye, followed by Consort Li, Consort Yu, Consort Yun, and Virtuous Consort Liu.

Below the rank of consort were: Venerable Concubine Wen, Concubine Lu, Concubine Xiang, Lady Ji, Palace Attendant Shen, and the newly promoted Palace Attendant Wei.

Below the palace attendants were the noble ladies: Noble Lady Jiang and Noble Lady Liu.

Beneath the noble ladies were over a dozen beauties who remained in the palace yet had never been graced with the Emperor’s favor.

However, despite the abundance of consorts, children were remarkably scarce. Aside from the First Prince and Princess Fuying, both born to Consort Li, Consort Yu had given birth to the Second Prince, Consort Yun to the Third Prince, and Virtuous Consort Liu to Princess Lanyue. Up to this point, only three princes and two princesses had been born. Tragically, the Second Prince had passed away a year ago, plunging Consort Yu into profound despair and lingering sorrow. Combined with chronic illness, she practically never showed her face in public anymore.

Consort Yun’s Third Prince was only five years old. Because he had been born prematurely, his health was delicate, leaving her entirely occupied with caring for him day and night, with no energy left to partake in the petty jealousies and rivalries of the inner palace.

Of course, the most decisive factor was the Empress Dowager’s aversion toward them. Anyone who had given birth to a child could never hope to receive a warm expression from the Empress Dowager.

Clearly, she was the grandmother of these children, yet as long as a child did not carry the bloodline of the Ye family, she detested them with an overt, unapologetic disdain. Consequently, all these children were terrified of the Empress Dowager.

In other places, a mother’s status rose on account of her children, but the inner palace here was entirely different. Consorts who bore children had to tread with utmost caution, terrified of angering the Empress Dowager—an utterly bizarre state of affairs.

The Empress Dowager was capable of profound affection toward the Ye family; she treated her own nieces kindly, even those born of concubines, without ever giving them a cold look. Yet she was equally capable of chilling ruthlessness—anyone devoid of the Ye family bloodline was treated as an utter outsider.

For someone to be like this truly made her a rare specimen indeed.

Recalling her own past, Ye Wanwan thought to herself that she must have been—ah, her mind had truly not been functioning well back then. Following every whim of the Empress Dowager and yearning for the affection of Zhao Yi, was she not utterly brainless?

The Mid-Autumn banquet was held in the Changchun Palace. Those of lower rank arrived early to wait, while those of higher status arrived later. The ones who invariably arrived last were the Emperor and the Empress.

On such a rare day of reunion, everyone had exerted every ounce of effort into dressing their finest.

Women selected for the inner palace were not necessarily peerless beauties, but their appearances were undeniably polished and striking. At a glance, it felt like a hundred flowers blooming in the imperial garden; even the autumn chrysanthemums blooming along the pathways paled in comparison to a fraction of their brilliance.

Yet just as they arrived full of confidence, they saw a dazzling, eye-catching sweep of crimson drift past their vision. Even the expensive fabric shimmered with a lustrous, iridescent glow.

Phoenix Fire brocade, worth a thousand gold per inch, had actually been crafted into an entire set of formal attire.

Though all the vibrant purples and reds of spring and autumn bloomed across the hall, none could rival the eye-searing brilliance of this single flash of flame.

And the woman wearing it was someone they could never hope to match. Aside from Noble Consort Ye, who else would dare to be so flamboyant?

To wear bright red in the presence of the Empress—they simply lacked the audacity.

Originally, having dressed up in rare and elaborate finery, each of them had been in rather good spirits. But upon seeing this, they instantly felt their enthusiasm drain into tasteless boredom.

Ye Wanwan took her seat, and soon the Empress Dowager arrived as well. Seeing Ye Wanwan’s attire, she was immensely gratified. A daughter of the Ye family ought to carry herself precisely like this, and only Ye Wanwan’s peerless visage was worthy of wearing this shade of red.

Finally, only the Emperor and the Empress had yet to appear, prompting silent speculations among the crowd. Sure enough, within moments, Emperor Yang supported the Empress as they arrived together.

"His Majesty arrives! Her Majesty the Empress arrives!"

Aside from the Empress Dowager, who remained seated with a displeased expression, everyone else was obliged to rise and offer their greetings.

Leng Yunqing was already more than seven months pregnant, her belly so pronounced that no garment could conceal it. With one hand supporting her waist and the other held by Zhao Yi, she walked in rather clumsily.

Unsurprisingly, today Leng Yunqing had once again chosen a plain, elegant white, adorned with very few gold and jade hairpins. Compared to Ye Wanwan beside her, crowned in splendor and clad in Phoenix Fire, anyone unaware might easily have mistaken Ye Wanwan for the Empress.

Yet, though her attire lacked lavish luxury, the distinct curve of her protruding belly was more than enough to completely overshadow Ye Wanwan.

Ye Wanwan thought: *It did nothing of the sort, alright?*

When everyone had taken their seats, Zhao Yi finally noticed Ye Wanwan. While simple and elegant had their merits, rich and striking colors were infinitely more breathtaking. He had to admit that Ye Wanwan suited such hues to perfection; her garments were like fire, her skin outshining the snow—she was exceedingly beautiful.

He could not resist directing a smile toward Ye Wanwan, but she acted as though she had not seen it at all, lowering her gaze with cold detachment. For a fraction of a second, Zhao Yi frowned in displeasure, but the next moment, as if realizing something, a thought dawned upon him: *Is she jealous and throwing a tantrum?*

With this reflection, his displeasure instantly evaporated, the corners of his lips curling upward with a trace of smug satisfaction.

Ye Wanwan thought: *Self-righteous fool.*