The two of them walked forward, mutually disdainful, their bickering never ceasing along the way. After much jostling, they finally returned to the Everlasting Autumn Palace. Zhai Nanny was startled to see the thoroughly drenched Fifth Prince and quickly arranged for hot water and dry clothes. Under the Fifth Prince’s glare, Shao Shang improvised a story about how the Fifth Prince had accidentally fallen into the water and a young lady had bravely rescued him. Zhai Nanny believed every word.
By the time the Feast Bell tolled for the third time, the eunuch sent to Consort Xu’s quarters to fetch clothes still hadn’t returned. Zhai Nanny had no choice but to dress the Fifth Prince in Ling Buyi’s childhood garments. The Fifth Prince nearly shed tears: “I prepared an exquisitely beautiful outfit for today’s birthday banquet, never expecting it would go unused.” If he didn’t stand out, his father would pay even less attention to him.
Shao Shang stroked her own lovely new dress and smiled with the tender affection of a kindergarten teacher: “Look on the bright side—perhaps Your Majesty will think Your Highness is especially frugal.”
“Look on the dark side—Father might think I’m slighting the Empress’s birthday!” If that happened, he would definitely sell Cheng Shaoshang out!
At three quarters past the hour of You, Shao Shang and the Fifth Prince, surrounded by a crowd of palace maids and eunuchs, made their way to the Xuanming Hall. Along the path, the garden was aglow with colorful lanterns, their radiance casting shifting shadows like blooming flowers.
As they approached the brilliantly lit hall ahead, they saw a tall, slender figure standing on the high steps. Even amidst the bustling crowd ascending and descending the stairs, he stood out unmistakably, like a glorious lighthouse from ancient myths, built by deities to guide lost ships through stormy seas, standing motionless against the dark, tempestuous shore.
Ling Buyi took half a step forward—he had already spotted Shao Shang and the Fifth Prince.
Almost in unison, Shao Shang and the Fifth Prince slowed their pace, like small animals sensing a shared predator. Shao Shang whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll only say you accidentally fell into the water and I rescued you. I won’t mention anything else.”
The Fifth Prince sighed. “As a half-friend, I’ll give you some advice—it’s better to tell the truth.”
Before Shao Shang could react, the Fifth Prince swiftly darted away from her side and hurried toward the Crown Prince and his consort, who stood at the hall’s entrance. Left alone, she had no choice but to continue forward. When she was two steps from the stairs, Ling Buyi extended his long, broad hand toward her. After a brief hesitation, she placed her small hand in his.
Ling Buyi held her hand and studied her closely. Under the lanterns’ glow, the girl’s fair face was painted in shifting hues, and even the embroidery on her pale pink dress was obscured. She looked up at him, then lowered her gaze, fiddling with her sleeve as if unsure what to say. In that moment, she seemed even more like a little girl who had spilled paint on herself and was at a loss.
Without a word, Ling Buyi took her hand and led her into the hall. Just then, the Grand Princess, passing by, teased, “Newlyweds are always so affectionate—holding hands even for such a short walk.” Her consort joined in, laughing, “Ah, youth is full of passion. Once married, the daily trivialities of family life will temper such displays.” The Grand Princess agreed, “Isn’t that the truth…”
Before she could finish, the Second Princess and her consort ascended the stairs from the opposite side, their intimacy evident. Both wore Crane Feather Robes, their long sleeves draping to conceal their arms. A closer look revealed their fingers intertwined, tightly clasped.The Grand Princess's consort looked somewhat awkward, while the Grand Princess herself gave a displeased humph, turned on her heel, and strode into the hall. The consort cleared his throat and followed her in.
Witnessing this, the Second Princess and her consort exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what had transpired.
Shao Shang couldn't help but let out a sudden laugh, turning to look at Ling Buyi—only to find him already gazing at her. Their eyes met, and in that moment, each saw the other's eyes sparkling like stars, breathtakingly beautiful. As Shao Shang looked into Ling Buyi's deep amber eyes, she seemed to understand their silent message and nodded firmly.
Ling Buyi asked, "Why are you nodding?"
"I think what you're thinking is right."
"And what am I thinking?"
"You know."—You hope that in the future, we'll be like the Second Princess and her consort.
A smile flickered in Ling Buyi's eyes as he gently squeezed the girl's small hand, then suddenly pulled her aside to a secluded spot. In a low voice, he asked, "Then, why did you come here with the Fifth Prince?"
Stumbling slightly as she was pulled along, Shao Shang quickly replied, "...Earlier, the Fifth Prince accidentally fell into the water, and I pulled him out. Since the Small Mirror Lake is close to the Everlasting Autumn Palace, I invited him there to change clothes and drink some ginger soup."
The smile slowly faded from Ling Buyi's face. "The Fifth Prince can't swim and has always avoided going near water. Why would he go to the lakeside for no reason? And why did you leave the Everlasting Autumn Palace to go to Small Mirror Lake?"
Shao Shang hesitated, stammering, "Uh, well, that's because, because..."
Ling Buyi looked her up and down before saying slowly, "I don't know why you left the palace, but you must have encountered the Fifth Prince and his entourage along the way. He said something offensive to you, so you lured him away from his attendants to the lakeside and made him fall in—don't be surprised. If it were just the Fifth Prince alone, you wouldn't need to lead him to the lake to deal with him. Am I right?"
Shao Shang's mouth fell slightly open as a familiar sense of astonishment rose in her heart—his uncannily accurate guesses, his seamless deductions. She realized she'd better get used to this quickly, as she might be experiencing it often in the future.
"Why do you always resort to deception and lies? Can't you just tell the truth?" Ling Buyi frowned.
Shao Shang roughly shook off his hand and muttered, "I'll settle my own grudges myself! The Fifth Prince has a foul mouth, and I've already taught him a lesson. I don't need you lecturing me!" With that, she hurried into the hall.
After entering, a palace maid guided her to her designated seat, but she remained sullen—though she wasn't entirely sure why. Was she more upset about having her scheme exposed or being accused of lying? She still didn't know.
A short while later, Ling Buyi entered the hall, assisted by a eunuch in removing his shoes, and slowly took his seat beside her.
"I'm not scolding you for being untruthful, nor am I blaming you for acting on your own. I just want you to know that you're not alone—you have me."
"I will always protect you."
"You don't have to face everything by yourself."
"You have me. Remember that."
He didn't turn to look at her but instead lowered his gaze to the lacquer wood grain on the table, his profile noble and striking. Suddenly, Shao Shang felt a warmth in her chest, accompanied by a restless agitation. The two sat in silence like this until the banquet began.The birthday banquet was modest in scale, with only a dozen or so noble ministers and their families added to the usual imperial family banquet—aside from the lavish food, wine, and entertainment. Shao Shang recognized only Yuhou, Cui Hou, and a bearded general surnamed Wu.
Tonight, Consort Yue appeared particularly virtuous and subdued, keeping her head bowed demurely throughout, like a newlywed bride too shy to even lift her gaze. The Emperor and Empress seemed familiar with this act, both exasperated and amused. If the Empress was a radiant pearl from the deep sea—majestic, elegant, and dignified—then Consort Yue was the dewy beauty by the riverside, enchanting enough to stir the soul and haunt one's dreams.
As Shao Shang bent to pick up a fallen hairpin, she caught sight of Consort Yue approaching the Emperor and Empress to offer a toast. The Emperor secretly tugged at her skirt under the dining table, only to have his hand sharply slapped away.
Shao Shang sighed inwardly. She didn’t blame the Emperor. From his supreme position, he could easily indulge in a new young beauty every year without reproach. Yet he remained devoted to his two wives, both nearing their fifties, living more abstemiously than many nobles or wealthy merchants. It was precisely because he was a man of deep sentiment.
Those at the pinnacle of the empire, those dwelling within the palace walls—each bore their own burdens. What they needed most was compromise and goodwill, for none had the right to be overly rigid.
After rounds of toasts, congratulations, and obligatory flattery, it was time to present gifts. The ministers, princes, and princesses had each put thought into their offerings—some rare, some novel, some breathtakingly beautiful, others unheard of.
The Crown Prince and his consort presented a jade kirin, over a foot tall, its body pure white and translucent. The Second Prince’s face immediately turned green, for his gift was a similarly sized kirin statue—but made of solid gold. Together, the brothers’ gifts struck a balance between refinement and ostentation. Quite fitting, really.
The Crown Princess responded with a faint, mocking smile.
The Second Prince Consort, still swollen from recent childbirth, wore an expression of resignation, silently conveying that the gaudy gold piece was certainly not to her taste.
The Grand Princess and her husband’s gifts were also extravagant, though they didn’t seem intended for the Empress.
A white jade goblet with intricate carvings—unfortunately, the Empress rarely drank. A sheer gauze robe as thin as a cicada’s wing—unfortunately, the Empress feared cold, not heat, even in midsummer wearing a full wrapped robe. It was the Emperor who suffered from the heat.
Consort Yue kept her head bowed, her expression unreadable. The Emperor, oblivious to the nuances, beamed as he praised his eldest daughter and son-in-law for their thoughtfulness. The Empress smiled faintly, though only Shao Shang detected the self-deprecation beneath it.
Ling Buyi presented an aged bamboo scroll. When the Empress unrolled it, tears welled in her eyes—it was a manuscript from Grand Duke Xuan’s own hand. Fond of poetry and prose, the Grand Duke had often gifted his writings to friends rather than hoarding them, leaving few preserved in the Xuan family archives. Years of war and chaos had scattered his works, yet Ling Buyi had somehow managed to recover one.
Seeing the Empress’s mix of shock and delight, the Emperor felt his adopted son had done him proud, handling everything with impeccable thoughtfulness. So pleased was he that he nearly bestowed another reward—if only there were a suitable pretext.The birthday tributes from Consort Yue's faction, starting with the Third Prince, were mostly conventional. Only the Second Princess and her husband presented something novel—a life-sized portrait of the Empress in a graceful dance pose. Exquisitely detailed with fine brushwork, even the embroidery on the hem of her skirt was vividly rendered, a labor of love that had taken the couple several months to complete.
Nearby, the Grand Princess curled her lip in disdain, while her consort, noticing the Emperor and Empress's genuine delight—far more heartfelt than their reactions to previous gifts—realized how shrewd the Second Princess and her husband had been.
The most eye-catching display was the celebratory group dance led by the Fifth Princess. Unfortunately, though it appeared grand at first glance, it was actually rather sparse, with uninspired choreography and many missteps. The lack of effort was glaringly obvious. Consort Yue bit back her words several times, the Empress remained expressionless, and the Emperor's gaze darkened. None of the three—Emperor, Empress, or Consort—uttered a word.
Witnessing this, Shao Shang thought to herself, Fifth Princess, just wait—you’ll get a ‘surprise’ when you return home!
Once all the tributes had been presented, the Emperor, seeing the Empress still in low spirits, cheerfully asked the Second Princess if she would perform an impromptu dance. The Second Princess smiled and obliged. Her husband, holding a xiao flute, said, "Your Majesty, the flute alone may sound too thin. It would benefit from the accompaniment of a qin. May I request Zisheng’s assistance?"
The Emperor glanced over and chuckled. "Speaking of which, it’s been a long time since Zisheng last played the qin."
In such a setting, Ling Buyi naturally wouldn’t refuse to save face. With a faint smile, he stepped forward.
The Emperor remarked to the foreign envoys nearby, "Among my children, Zisheng is the most skilled in music." The envoys and their families promptly echoed his praise, showering Ling Buyi with accolades.
Pleased, the Emperor chuckled, then caught sight of Shao Shang sitting quietly nearby. Leaning toward the Empress, he whispered, "Later, you should teach Shao Shang some talents. This little girl is already lacking in literary skills, and her grasp of music, calligraphy, and painting is rudimentary. It’s rather unfair to Zisheng."
The Empress stifled a laugh, then sighed. "Actually, Shao Shang can play the short flute. I’ve heard her a few times—though her technique isn’t yet refined, there’s a remarkable spark in her playing. Given time, she could become quite accomplished."
The Emperor remained unconvinced. "You’re far too indulgent."
By then, the three performers had settled into place. As the harmonious blend of qin and xiao filled the hall, the Second Princess began to dance and sing. The audience recognized it at once—the timeless masterpiece "Cai Wei." Applause broke out immediately.
The Second Princess swayed gracefully, sleeves trailing, her waist supple as she moved with the lightness of a swallow darting through rain. The xiao’s mellow tones and the qin’s crisp notes intertwined with her clear, melodious voice: "Long ago, when I set out, the willows were fresh and green. Now as I return, the snowflakes fly..." The banquet erupted in cheers once more.
By the halfway point, the imperial relatives and high-ranking ministers had shed their reserve, joining in the singing with wine-fueled enthusiasm. The Emperor, overjoyed, even descended to play the zhu and sing along, further rousing the crowd.
The Second Princess proved herself a true master of dance—her movements were ethereal yet dignified, her smiles charming yet noble and innocent. Shao Shang watched, awestruck; she had never imagined classical dance could be so breathtaking.
Before long, her gaze drifted to the man seated quietly at the qin.
Amid the boisterous revelry—laughter, drunken singing, flailing limbs, and sycophantic praises—he alone, though at the heart of the celebration, seemed detached, his presence as serene and unruffled as ever.Today he wore a light-colored Wrapped Robe with a pale golden sheer outer garment. Embroidered on his right shoulder was a golden-brown Suanni, baring its fangs—the sharp teeth positioned at his right chest, one front paw resting on the collar, perfectly accentuating his slender neck and distinct Adam's apple. The other front paw disappeared into the belt along with the crossed lapel, while its long tail trailed down his strong waist and abdomen to the hem, majestic and fierce yet serene and solemn.
Shao Shang couldn't help but wonder: Why, in general, do we feel happy because someone likes us?
In her short life, she had experienced one unrequited crush and had been the object of another’s secret admiration. Yet neither experience had brought her particular joy—in fact, she had even felt somewhat disdainful. From her utilitarian perspective, so-called secret admiration was, at its core, a sign of incompetence. If she had the capability, she would have long since won over the big brother next door, and the slacker club president would have long since won her over. Why would there be any need for secret pining?
So was it just vanity?
Shao Shang scoffed. Only the weak and losers deceived themselves and others with false prosperity.
If there was someone who should never have existed in your life’s plans, would you still feel happy because they liked you?
Returning to the original question: Why, in general, do we feel happy because someone likes us?
Not out of vanity, nor for utility—even if it hindered your plans, constrained your habits, or restricted your freedom—why would you still feel happy?
Perhaps it was the alcohol taking effect, but Shao Shang felt her cheeks grow warm. As she loosened her collar and looked down, she noticed Ling Buyi’s wine cup placed nearby, still holding a shallow ring of wine.
She stared at it for a long moment, then picked up the cup and drained the remaining wine from the side where his lips had touched.
Ling Buyi had been glancing her way intermittently and happened to witness this scene. For a fleeting moment, he nearly missed a note on the strings.
After the song ended, while the Emperor and the rest of the company were still singing and laughing boisterously, he pushed aside the qin table and hurried back to his seat. Once settled, he fixed his gaze on the girl and asked, "Why did you drink from my cup?"
Shao Shang kept her head lowered and muttered, "Your wine tastes better than mine."
Ling Buyi’s eyes brimmed with amusement. "And why were you staring at me earlier? Everyone else was watching His Majesty and the Second Princess."
Shao Shang lifted her head and looked at the man beside her—this jade-like gentleman, refined and flawless. Just gazing at him filled her with a secret joy, unknown not only to others but even to herself. In her bleak and meager youth, she had rarely appreciated beauty purely, rarely felt unadulterated delight without any ulterior motives.
Then, bracing one hand on the table, she leaned forward and swiftly kissed him—she had aimed for his lips, but her tipsy clumsiness made her land a firm kiss on his Adam’s apple instead.
A look of disbelief flashed across Ling Buyi’s face. His large hand gripped the girl tightly, only to find her cheeks flushed and burning, her gaze evasive. His dark eyes, deep as ink, gazed tenderly at her for a long moment. To Shao Shang, his gaze felt like silk, winding endlessly around her—joyful and profound.
He lowered his head and gently kissed her rosy lips.
Instantly, Shao Shang felt dizzy, as if the Conjoined Lanterns hanging from the palace ceiling had begun to spin, their light swaying, filling her vision with golden radiance.
Author’s Note:
I recommend watching a video on Bilibili—search for "Confucius Gathering Vetch." It’s a segment from the grand dance drama Confucius , and it’s breathtakingly beautiful.To borrow a line from the text, I never thought classical dance could be this beautiful.
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