The Country Maiden: Fields and Leisure-Chapter 1703 - 1697: Worthy?

The moment the woman lifted her head, the entire palace seemed to brighten.

The slanted sunlight outside the window fell on her shoulder, her skin fairer than snow and her radiance dazzling, her eyes captivating with every blink.

The corners of her red lips slightly curved, revealing the alluring demeanor of a mature woman, making the guards serving in the palace, despite seeing her numerous times, unable to help but stare, their mouths dry.

This woman was none other than Queen Ah Lan of Grasslands, Qi Le!

Though she was over forty, she appeared like a twenty-something youthful young lady, blending purity and allure in such a way that a single glance could make one captivated.

The palace was splendid and luxurious, yet Qi Le wore only a simple blue robe without a hint of embroidery, her hair loosely tied with a silk ribbon, showing no trace of jewelry on her body.

Sitting in this utmost opulent palace, she was not overshadowed in the least, instead enhancing her extraordinary beauty.

Qi Le put down her pen, picked up the white handkerchief nearby and casually wiped her fingers, speaking softly, "Bring it up!"

Her voice wasn’t the crisp and sweet tone of ordinary girls, but rather slightly husky, low, carrying a unique rhythm as if with a subtle hook that tugged at one’s heart.

The woman carrying the message was exceptionally beautiful, dressed elegantly, truly a great beauty.

However, before Qi Le, she seemed as dull as rubble, losing her glamor.

Upon hearing Qi Le’s command, she stepped forward, stopping three steps away from Qi Le, daring not to move further, taking a deep breath, respectfully presenting the letter in her hand.

Qi Le stretched out her hand, her ten slender fingers as if carved from top-grade Mutton Fat White Jade, reflecting the sunlight with a translucent sheen.

That woman stared obsessively at Qi Le’s fingers, seemingly losing her senses.

Qi Le opened the letter, glanced at it, unable to resist a slight curl at the corners of her mouth, revealing a hint of joy.

This smile was like the blooming of a hundred flowers, or the first thaw of snow.

The sounds of gasping filled the palace immediately.

Qi Le was long accustomed to this, her expression unchanged as she instructed, "Grind the ink—"

The woman in brocade regained herself, stepping forward carefully to serve.

Qi Le wrote a few lines before passing it to the woman: "Give this to Batu, have them act according to the instructions here, make sure to secure the trade route!"

The woman accepted the paper, bowed in agreement, and left.

Qi Le then lowered her head to resume reading, occasionally adding annotations.

The palace was quiet, the only sound was the turning of pages, and after quite a while, Qi Le’s voice was heard again, "Where is the King now?"

A guard immediately stepped forward to answer, "Reporting to Queen Ah Lan, the King is currently in the Third Queen’s palace."

Qi Le turned another page, then casually said, "Make arrangements; tonight, I want to host a banquet for the King."

"Yes!" Two voices answered and left.

One went to the kitchen to instruct, the other to invite the King from the Third Queen’s palace.

The palace fell back into silence for a while before a woman’s voice sounded: "You should have done this earlier, previously you couldn’t be bothered with them, allowing the Third Queen and Prince Hule to grow so conceited. Those unaware might think the King is about to pass the throne to them!"

Saying this, a graceful woman stepped out from the shadows.

Though young, she seemed not young, around thirty-something, her eyes were a clear blue-green, framing a head of black hair, high nose and large eyes, sharp features with exotic beauty and charm.

The clothes she wore were also very luxurious, further highlighting her elegance.

Her face bore a look of indignation.

Qi Le didn’t care much, not even lifting her head: "Just autumn grasshoppers, let them jump around. It’s better this way, let them fight it out, it spares me trouble!"

This exotic-featured woman couldn’t help but sigh: "Miss, you should plan for yourself, under the King there are seven or eight princes, all of whom are growing up one by one, each like wolf cubs, eagerly stretching their claws and bearing their fangs. You haven’t given birth to a prince all these years, it’s fine while the King is here, but should he be gone, what will you do?"

"This godforsaken place doesn’t care about ethics and morals, they can inherit the throne along with the wives and concubines of their forefathers; if no plans are made early, will you really have to submit to those brats?"

Qi Le’s expression darkened upon hearing this, but she spoke: "Bi Zhu, all these years you’ve been a worrier! Don’t worry! Has your master ever suffered a loss? Do they really think the throne of the Grasslands is that easy to fight for? Let them fight, it’s still early, let them fight to the death, and we’ll make our move when just the right one remains; wouldn’t that be convenient?"

Saying this, a fierce look flashed across her eyes, a murderous intent rippled.

The woman named Bi Zhu then revealed a smile: "With the master’s words, I can rest assured! But master, do you truly not intend to give birth to a little prince? Otherwise, wouldn’t it benefit others in a hundred years—"

Qi Le sneered: "Hulun, matched?"

A few words, but they revealed infinite disdain.

Bi Zhu sighed, knowing her master’s heart was like a rock, unshakable.

The sky outside was already late, estimating the hour, the King would soon arrive.

So she straightforwardly proposed her departure.

Qi Le did not say much, only nodded to indicate acknowledgment.

Bi Zhu left the palace, walking a long way, glancing back at the palace once more, unable to resist a look of complexity in her eyes, quickly covering it up.

Not far out, she encountered the King of the Grasslands with his entourage, hastily moving along.

Bi Zhu hurriedly stepped aside.

The King of the Grasslands hurried by like a gust of wind, not noticing Bi Zhu and her group by the roadside.

Yet Bi Zhu could see, the King of the Grasslands bore a face tinged with excess indulgence, his eyes muddled, his once robust form now withered, obese, draped in a long robe made of brocade and fur, where was that fierceness of the past?

But she quickly regained her composure, waiting for the King’s group to pass, then hurriedly left the Royal Palace with her head lowered.

Exiting the Royal Palace, twilight had fallen, looking back, the palace was gradually engulfed by the dusk, like a monstrous beast lurking there, its gates dark as a giant mouth ready to swallow everything.

Bi Zhu’s heart skipped; she dared not look again, hastily dropping the curtain, instructing to drive the carriage back home quickly.

The people outside hurriedly responded, the sound of hooves clattering on the street.

Only then did Bi Zhu open her palm, already wet, a small piece of paper quietly lying in her hand.

On the paper was just one word, smeared by sweat, clearly discernible; it was the word "Jin".