Oops! The Black Lotus Can’t Be a Female Supporting Character

CHAPTER 59

“This young lady’s act of righteousness is truly admirable!” The blue-robed scholar who had first praised Xiao Luanfei stepped out from the crowd, his voice brimming with passion.

The other scholars and commoners quickly followed, speaking one after another:

“Indeed! For one so young, she carries the heart of the people. Remarkable, truly remarkable!”

“Fifty thousand taels of silver—why, even the great noble houses of the capital might lack such courage!”

“The refugees who benefit from this will surely remember her kindness for generations.”

One voice after another rose in fervent praise. Applause echoed ceaselessly, and the atmosphere grew ever more heated.

Amid the approving gazes, Xiao Luanfei knelt with her back straight, both hands raised high as she offered the small chest containing fifty thousand taels in silver notes.

Her delicate chin tilted ever so slightly, accentuating the elegant line of her neck. Graceful, poised, with an air of transcendence.

Empress Liu stood frozen like a carved statue, her eyes fixed darkly on Xiao Luanfei. Every word of praise she heard pierced her ears like barbs.

She had labored to arrange everything—for her niece, for the Liu family. She had chosen this very day, when the Imperial Temple opened its lecture, creating the perfect convergence of time, place, and occasion. All to build momentum for her clan.

It was all going exactly as planned—until, at the most crucial moment, Xiao Luanfei stole the stage.

Such a calculating girl!

The Empress could no longer summon a smile. Rage and loathing swelled within her, shadows deepening in her eyes, yet she had no outlet for her bitterness.

“Mother,” Crown Prince Tang Yueze stepped forward, smiling faintly at the Empress. “That Miss Xiao would make such a generous offering is truly a blessing for the court.”

He gazed at Xiao Luanfei with deep admiration, his heart stirred—moved by her sincerity, and aching at the thought of how she had scraped together this sum, even selling her own jewelry.

The Empress slowly turned toward her son. A sharp pain stabbed her chest, her throat filling with the taste of blood.

But Tang Yueze noticed nothing. His smile only grew as he bowed deeply to her. “I beg Mother to reward Miss Xiao for her noble deed!”

“His Highness speaks true!”

Hearing him address her as Mother, some of the scholars quickly guessed that this noble youth must be the Crown Prince. A fervent voice called out, and the crowd erupted, wave after wave of acclaim swelling higher.

The Empress’s ears rang. Her gaze darkened like storm clouds as she stared at her son, torn between anguish and disappointment.

Her own son was wielding a knife against her—and the crowd, too, pressed her with their blades, leaving her no way forward or back.

The air around her grew taut. The palace maids and eunuchs at her side could feel her fury and scarcely dared to breathe.

“Mother…” Tang Yueze called again.

At that instant, the Empress longed to sweep out in fury, but she forced herself to stay composed, to not betray a loss of dignity.

She drew a slow, steady breath and said at last, “Indeed, such merit deserves reward! Miss Xiao is truly a rare young lady of refinement and virtue.”

She motioned for Zheng momo to receive the chest, then added, “This palace shall bestow upon you a plaque inscribed with the words Refined in Mind, Noble in Heart.”

Her words were measured, yet her voice grated as though squeezed through clenched teeth. The shadows in her eyes grew darker still.

She had already spoken with the emperor, arranging for the title of County Lady to go to Chaoyun. But now—how could such honor be granted to Xiao Luanfei?

This plaque alone would have to suffice!

Xiao Luanfei smiled with grace, meeting the Empress’s shadowed gaze. “I thank Your Majesty for this reward.”

She rose smoothly to her feet, brushing her sleeve in a gesture of elegance, standing tall and serene.

Tang Yueze’s eyes swept the crowd without a flicker of emotion.

Mother had delayed his marriage time and again. Every time he mentioned Luan’er, she would change the subject. But if now—if now he could seize the moment to force her hand…

“Mother,” Tang Yueze stepped forward again, until he stood at Xiao Luanfei’s side. The radiant young prince and the blossoming maiden, shoulder to shoulder, seemed like a pair destined by heaven.

Bowing once more, he declared, “Miss Xiao is refined and noble, compassionate and true. This son has long admired her. I will wed none but her. I beg Mother to grant me her hand as Crown Princess!”

His voice rang clear and unwavering, reaching every ear.

Xiao Luanfei’s lashes trembled, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to him. Her gaze shimmered, and Tang Yueze’s heart stirred at the sight.

“You—!” The Empress’s eyes flew wide. It felt as if the knife lodged in her chest had been ripped out by her son—only for him to plunge it in again, even deeper.

Her left hand clutched Zheng momo’s tightly, her long nails digging so hard into the woman’s flesh that Zheng momo’s face went white with pain.

For a long moment, the Empress remained silent. At last, she forced out a dry, brittle smile, her gaze locked unblinking on Tang Yueze. Her voice was hoarse, rasping as though scraped by gravel:

“Son, marriage is not something to be decided in haste.”

The warning in her eyes was unmistakable.

She had given him a step down, but Tang Yueze refused to take it. His eyes did not waver; his tone was firm, resolute:

“Mother, my heart is set. I beg you to grant me this match!”

Clap!

Not far away, the blue-robed scholar struck his palms together with force. His square-jawed face shone with emotion.

“His Highness and Miss Xiao—truly a match made in heaven! What a story for the ages!”

“Of course His Highness admires her—such purity of character deserves it!”

“A golden union, a perfect pair!”

The crowd erupted. For the common people, to witness the Crown Prince himself begging the Empress for marriage approval was a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. Their eyes sparkled; they all silently wished the Empress would agree.

And for those present, to be eyewitnesses of such an event would be enough to boast of for the rest of their lives.

The Empress, however, felt her mind explode with a deafening roar, as though her skull might split apart.

She raised her hand to her brow. Her graceful form wavered, her face paling.

“Mother!” Tang Yueze’s expression changed. He darted forward to catch her as she swayed, his voice tight with alarm. “Mother, are you unwell?”

“Your Majesty!” Princess of Ning, Ming Rui, who had been standing just behind the Empress, also reached out to support her.

But the Empress, still consumed with fury, could not unleash it on her son. Instead, she flung her sleeve hard, shaking Ming Rui off.

Caught off guard, Ming Rui stumbled backward with a startled cry and fell to the ground.

Her hairpins rattled loose, her sleeve slipped back to reveal a pale wrist—marred by bruises, burns, and whip marks. Old scars and fresh wounds crisscrossed together, ghastly to behold.

The Empress’s brows knit in disgust. She cast Ming Rui a cold, sidelong glance.

Ming Rui trembled violently, her eyes dropping at once.

She hastily tugged her sleeve back down to hide the injuries, then shifted into a kneeling posture, prostrating herself in panic.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty! This concubine begs pardon for her offense!”

Her forehead touched the floor; she dared not look up.

By then, Abbot Jue Ming had steadied himself. Clearing his throat, he quickly sought to smooth things over:

“Her Majesty must have suffered heatstroke. My elder uncle, Master Konglao, is skilled in medicine. I shall send for him at once to attend to Your Majesty.”

“Yes, Abbot.” A young monk, flustered, bowed and ran off.

“Many thanks, Master,” Eunuch Zheng replied politely, though inwardly he sighed. Truly, this Jue Ming is perceptive. To speak first of heatstroke prevents any rumor that His Highness angered the Empress into collapse.

The abbot folded his hands in a Buddhist salute. “Your Majesty, I have already prepared a chamber. Perhaps you would care to rest there awhile?”

“Lead the way,” Tang Yueze answered on his mother’s behalf, still steadying her arm. His handsome face was clouded with worry.

“This way, Your Highness.” Jue Ming gestured respectfully.

The crowd surged to escort the Empress in a grand procession toward the northwest wing of the temple.

Once she had gone, Ming Rui slowly rose from the ground, smoothing her disheveled robes.

Her gaze drifted across the crowd until it settled briefly on Xiao Yanfei. Her expression remained calm, her eyes lingering only a moment before she followed after the Empress’s retinue.

Before long, the temple courtyard felt far emptier.

The incident had unfolded so quickly that many onlookers still hadn’t recovered, staring at one another in bewilderment.

Gradually, the throng began to scatter. Some hurried into the main hall to burn incense, eager to kneel on the very cushion where the Empress had just prayed, hoping to absorb a trace of her fortune. Others clustered in groups, animatedly retelling the Crown Prince’s public proposal. And many turned admiring glances on Xiao Luanfei, words of praise flowing—refined and noble in heart and mind was repeated over and over.

But to Liu Chaoyun, every word of praise was a cutting mockery.

“Young mistress.” Her maid rushed forward to lift her up, face full of pity.

Liu Chaoyun was a sorry sight. Dust smeared her forehead, her dress was crumpled and stained from kneeling too long. The contrast with her earlier elegance and pride was humiliatingly stark.

“Xiao Luanfei!” Liu Chaoyun’s eyes burned with venom as she glared at her rival. Every ounce of spite and fury within her fixed on that girl. “How clever you are!”

“I truly underestimated you!”

These past days, Xiao Luanfei had accompanied her, persuading households to donate for charity. The silver collected had all been turned over to her, and Liu Chaoyun had believed it a show of loyalty—to her, to the Liu family.

Seeing Xiao Luanfei dressed so plainly today, she had assumed it meant meekness. Never had she imagined this girl would crush her so mercilessly at the most critical moment.

Xiao Luanfei—what audacity!

Liu Chaoyun clenched her teeth so hard they nearly cracked. She wanted nothing more than to tear the girl apart with her bare hands.

Never in her life had she suffered such humiliation!

Yet Xiao Luanfei only smoothed her skirts, lifted a stray lock of hair, and smiled serenely.

“You give me too much credit, Miss Liu. Unlike you, I’ve never been so fortunate—never had anyone to cradle me in their palm, to consider my every need.”

Her gaze shifted from Liu Chaoyun to Xiao Yanfei, who stood not far away, chatting cheerfully with Ning Shu. For the first time, a ripple stirred in her otherwise placid eyes.

No—she was not like Xiao Yanfei. In both lives, Xiao Yanfei had her mother, Madam Yin’s protection, and the vast Yin family fortune as a shield.

She had only herself to rely on.

So what if she had offended the Empress today, offended the Liu clan?

At this moment, Youzhou faced crisis. Refugees poured in, the people restless. The Empress would not dare move against her. And the Emperor had only a few years left—he must both pacify the people and build support for the Crown Prince.

That made her the perfect choice.

If she could secure her place as Crown Princess, then today’s loss meant nothing.

As for the Liu family? They were of no consequence.

Xiao Luanfei smiled again, calm and untroubled.

Just then, a eunuch in green livery hurried toward her, ignoring Liu Chaoyun entirely.

“Miss Xiao,” he said breathlessly, “His Highness commands you to attend him at once.”

Then, lowering his voice, he added reassuringly, “Do not worry, my lady—the Empress is unharmed.”

“Would you be so kind as to lead the way, eunuch?” Xiao Luanfei gave the young attendant a faint smile, flicked her sleeve with casual elegance, and walked off with a hint of amusement on her lips.

That left Liu Chaoyun standing alone. A gust of wind disheveled her hair and skirts, carrying with it the murmurs of the crowd.

“Her surname is Liu, isn’t she from the Duke of Cheng’en’s household?” An old woman pointed at Liu Chaoyun with open disdain. “Claims she’s here to raise funds for disaster relief, yet look at how extravagantly she’s dressed—pretentious.”

“Why don’t they just eat porridge!” A scholar shook his head and sighed theatrically. “The Liu family has always been like this—ostentatious and wasteful.”

“Hmph, nine thousand taels? That’s probably just one meal for the Lius, and she dares flaunt it as if it were something grand.”

“…”

The whispers spread among common folk and students alike, fingers pointing in her direction. Liu Chaoyun felt prickles run down her back, the criticism stinging sharper with every word, her anger rising like flames licking higher and higher.

Then suddenly, a shadow fell over her.

Lifting her head, she saw Ning Shu standing just three steps away, chin tilted as she looked down at her.

Ning Shu gave her a once-over, then chuckled.

“Serves you right.”

With that haughty remark tossed over her shoulder, Ning Shu grabbed Xiao Yanfei’s hand and skipped away, positively gleeful.

Already seething, Liu Chaoyun felt Ning Shu’s words hit her like oil on fire.

Boom!

Her fury erupted, and she stomped her foot hard on the ground, shouting in near hysteria: “Ning Shu!”

But Ning Shu, already several yards away, pretended not to hear, happily tugging Xiao Yanfei along, hopping and skipping.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

She shouldn’t complain about leaving the house without consulting the almanac—if she hadn’t gone out today, she would’ve missed such a marvelous spectacle. This was enough entertainment to keep her in high spirits for days!

“Yanyan, do you think Her Majesty the Empress is about ready to explode with rage?” Ning Shu whispered, giggling. “What should we do, what should we do?”

She was overjoyed.

“Maybe you should give her some peppermint candy to cool off?” Xiao Yanfei teased, amused by the princess’s wagging-tail delight.

“No way!” Ning Shu pouted, glancing back in the direction Xiao Luanfei had gone. “Can you believe she has that much money? Fifty thousand taels, just like that!”

Yes—fifty thousand taels.

For nobility, it was neither an impossible sum nor a trivial one. The real issue was that few could produce that much hard silver at once.

“…” Xiao Yanfei rubbed her chin, her eyes darting thoughtfully.

From what she knew, ever since Madam Yin left the marquis’s household, their standard of living had plummeted. Monthly stipends across the estates had been halved, even meals were pared down. At this rate, they might soon be forced to sell off property.

Even the Old Madam wouldn’t be able to conjure up fifty thousand taels just to let Xiao Luanfei bask in empty glory.

“Haha!” Ning Shu laughed heartily, dimples showing as her mood soared so high she was practically floating. “Serves Liu Chaoyun right for always trying to steal from me, snatching at everything I own. Now she’s burned herself good. Let her taste what it feels like.”

These past days, she had been miserable, cooped up in the prince’s manor by her mother’s orders. Seeing the Liu family suffer misfortune was like a breath of fresh air. She felt radiant, as though joy itself animated her.

Hooking her arm through Xiao Yanfei’s, Ning Shu chirped, “Come on, let me show you Juxiu Mountain. You can’t come all the way to Huangjue Temple and miss its Three Marvels!”

Her spirits lifted, Ning Shu led Xiao Yanfei first up Juxiu Mountain behind the temple, then onward to the second marvel, the famed Stele Forest.

Stone monuments of all shapes and heights crowded together in a dense thicket, casting a dark, oppressive air, as if one had stumbled into a graveyard.

As they strolled through, a squad of imperial guards passed by on patrol.

Ning Shu frowned, muttering, “So the Empress is still here.”

As long as the Empress remained, the temple gates would stay sealed, and no one could leave.

Ning Shu hated being confined more than anything. She had already been trapped in the manor for days, and now—finally out—she was about to be trapped again by the Empress!

She pouted, clearly uninterested in the steles. With a mischievous smile, she said, “Yanyan, you take your time looking. I’ll go find the abbot and ask when the Empress plans to leave. Wait here for me.”

“The abbot is timid. Whenever there are too many people around, he just pretends he doesn’t know a thing.” The “abbot” Ning Shu mentioned was the temple’s head monk, Master Jue Ming.

“Go on, go on.” Xiao Yanfei waved her hand, urging the little princess to hurry along.

Ning Shu lifted her skirts and darted off like a rabbit.

Smiling faintly, Xiao Yanfei watched her disappear before wandering leisurely through the Stele Forest on her own.

These stone monuments, inscribed with the works of great calligraphers across the ages, each had their own style—majestic and grand, refined and elegant, or brisk and vigorous—impossible to say which was superior.

She strolled slowly past the rows of steles.

Scattered among them were seven or eight scholars in long robes and gauze caps: some admiring inscriptions, some making rubbings, others deep in lofty debate.

“That Miss Xiao is truly magnanimous,” a young scholar in blue exclaimed, his face full of reverence. “To treat fifty thousand taels as nothing and donate them outright!”

“Indeed, an act of great benevolence.” Another, in his thirties and dressed in gray, fanned himself with studied detachment as he opined, “For a mere girl to have such vision is rare. Consider this—if the officials of Youzhou had been half so generous in aiding disaster victims, would those poor souls ever have been driven to become refugees, or even bandits?”

“Those bandits only wanted to fill their bellies. Had the people of Youzhou shared more grain, why would they have resorted to murder and pillage?”

What?

Xiao Yanfei stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing.

So—the slaughtered and dispossessed had only themselves to blame? This victim-blaming rhetoric was revolting.

“Quite so,” the gray-robed scholar continued glibly, shaking his fan. “Just last year in Lanshan City—knowing he couldn’t hold, General Ming still insisted on defending it. He only provoked the northern tribes further, and the city was sacked, its people buried with him. The Xie family has guarded the frontier for decades, yet the north has known no peace. Clearly, they were incompetent, and their deaths no injustice!”

“…”

The other scholars shook their heads, wearing looks of disdain.

“Heh.” Xiao Yanfei let out a cold laugh, her eyes hardening.

Their words grew more outrageous by the moment.

Hearing her, the scholars all turned, catching the scorn in her gaze.

The gray-robed one frowned and snapped, “We are discussing matters of the common people. If you don’t understand, little girl, that’s one thing—but to sneer at us? What’s so funny?”

What insight could a mere girl have, daring to look down on them—men of learning, men with titles!

“I’m laughing at your stupidity.” Xiao Yanfei smiled again.

She had no interest in arguing further and turned to leave. But her words struck a nerve, and the scholars bristled.

“Wait, you’re not going anywhere!” The blue-robed scholar stepped forward, face darkening. “How dare you insult us, girl?!”

Did she insult them? Xiao Yanfei reflected a moment.

No—she’d only spoken the truth.

Meeting their furious glares, she curved her lips in a half-smile. “If not for those so-called ‘incompetent’ generals bleeding and dying on the battlefield, would you have the luxury of standing here, spouting empty theories and pointing fingers?”

Their brows furrowed tighter, displeasure plain.

The gray-robed scholar snapped his fan shut with a crack. “Mind your tongue, girl!”

Xiao Yanfei swept her gaze slowly across them, her delicate features edged with a sudden chill.

She had tried to walk away. They were the ones who stopped her.

“All you do is wag your tongues here—armchair strategists. You call others incompetent, but what have you done?”

“Is it your unceasing chatter you count as strength?”

“Then why not take those silver tongues of yours to Youzhou? Convince the bandits to lay down arms, restore peace, and relieve the people’s suffering—let the world witness your so-called righteousness!”

Their faces shifted again, one scholar blurting defensively, “The front lines aren’t somewhere we can just go!”

“Why not?” Xiao Yanfei’s smile was gentle, but her eyes gleamed cold and sharp, as if piercing through them. “The court issues recruitment orders every year. Why can’t you enlist? Why can’t you serve the country?”

The scholars fell silent.

Of course, they all had degrees. By law, that exempted them from military service and corvée labor.

“What’s the matter? Afraid?” Xiao Yanfei’s smile softened, like a spring breeze, yet her gaze cut like a blade.

“If you’re afraid, then admit it.”

Her eyes seemed to say she knew it—knew they wouldn’t dare.

A few of the scholars were already grinding their teeth in fury, their faces an ugly shade of blue.

They studied for the examinations, to win rank and stand one day in the halls of power. To enlist as common soldiers? That would only lower their own worth!

The scholar in green robes flicked his sleeve angrily. “The petty views of women, ignorant and laughable. Brothers, remember—women and petty men are hard to deal with. Let’s go!”

The others also swept their sleeves in disdain, posturing as though too lofty to waste words on a woman.

But the last scholar in blue couldn’t resist sneering: “Brothers, don’t spoil your mood over a mere girl. If you ask me, she only mocks Miss Xiao out of jealousy, unable to stand her moment of glory.”

“A shallow woman—ambitionless, caring only for silks and ornaments!”

His tone dripped with scorn, undercut by the bitterness of his own frustrations.

“Ambition?”

A female voice rang out suddenly, mocking yet cold, like a winter wind sweeping through the stele forest.

From behind a man-high monument stepped a tall, poised woman.

She wore a cinnabar-red robe, her hair bound in a severe round bun. Her makeup was plain, her attire almost matronly—but her features were striking, her gaze sharp and bright as fire.

Ming Rui?

Xiao Yanfei blinked. When had she been there?

Ming Rui’s eyes swept slowly over the scholars, her voice as sharp as a blade:

“The civil exams select one in ten thousand. If you won’t fight for it, you’d be better off going home to farm.”

“No, not even farming. To farm you’d have to fight for seed, fight for land. Without that, what would you plant?”

“Why not just lie down and starve instead?”

She gave a contemptuous laugh. Her cold, cutting words lashed the scholars like icy wind, stinging their faces raw.

Their expressions soured further—part shame at having their thoughts laid bare, part helpless rage at being struck where it hurt.

Her words were meant for them, yet her eyes never once settled on them. As if they weren’t even worth noticing. Her gaze, deep and unwavering, was fixed only on Xiao Yanfei.

And Xiao Yanfei looked back at her.

A few paces away, the tall young woman with a sun-bright gaze was nothing like the lifeless, puppet-like Princess Ning who had followed the empress earlier.

Nothing like the woman of rumor, said to be too cowed even to cry or laugh.

Nothing like the one Aunt Zhu claimed to have broken and tamed completely.

This woman’s eyes were clear, her bearing upright. Every movement brimmed with unyielding spirit.

Before Xiao Yanfei stood a soul of steel, a will unshaken by hardship or defeat.

Unbidden, Xiao Yanfei’s lips curved. A faint dimple appeared at her cheek, as though a stone had been dropped into the still water of her heart—ripples spreading, restless and bright.

Everyone had been deceived about Ming Rui.

***