Тhе rainy sеаsоn оf thе yellow рlum blоssoms stretсhed on еndlеsslу, with сеаseless dоwnpours as if the sky had sрrung а leаk. At first, thеrе wаs still sоme dеlight in listеning tо thе wind аnd admiring thе rain, but graduallу it grеw tediоus, and Wanwan’s рatienсe was nеаrlу ехhаustеd. She was оn thе vergе оf оrdering а boаt рrepаrеd to еscapе this damp southеrn wеаther whеn, one daу, thе skiеs finallу сlеаrеd.
Sunlight brоke thrоugh thе clоuds, shoоting straight down frоm their еdgеs. Stаnding on thе stерs, shе felt an unprеcedented joу in that moment, аnd even thе gloоm in hеr heаrt dissipated.
A servant woman who had just finished ironing clothes and was delivering them to the Main Chamber paused, glanced outside, and heaved a great sigh of relief. “Goodness, after all these weeks, we finally see the sun!” She quickly called to the young maid following her, “Wait another half hour. If the weather holds, have a few people set up the racks. The bedding and clothes need airing and sunlight. The southern climate is truly strange—they say it’s warmer than Beijing, but who would’ve thought the sky would spring a leak, with all this rain…” As she spoke, she headed toward the corridor.
Wanwan stretched her sleeves and closed her eyes. The light was warm, and it felt truly comfortable on her face. She took a deep, satisfying breath; the air carried the scent of the sun, accompanied by a gentle breeze brushing her cheeks. She had never felt so light and at ease.
“E’nie,” came Lan Zhou’s voice from behind her. “I’ve finished my lessons. Please review them.”
Still immersed in the moment, she smiled and said she would in a while. “I’m basking in the sun.”
She was like a flower after a long flood, eagerly soaking up the warmth. Her youthful face turned toward the sun, lips crimson, eyelashes long and delicate, her skin so fine it seemed almost translucent in the light.
Lan Zhou, holding a rolled-up booklet, asked her, “What is ‘laoye’er’?”
She explained that “laoye’er” meant the sun. “You southerners wouldn’t understand. Beijing has many local expressions, and without explanation, they’re impossible to grasp. Like when you learn opera from someone, and the master says you ‘sang too early,’ it means you started the tune too high. And then there are the performers at Tianqiao, who have no real skill but rely on their mouths to earn a living—that also has a name: ‘making a pancake out of thin air.’”
These terms were indeed rarely heard. Lan Zhou tilted his head and asked, “Has E’nie ever been to Tianqiao?”
She hummed in thought. “No, I only heard about it from a young eunuch. There are many interesting things at Tianqiao. When we have the chance someday, I’ll take you and Ting there to play.”
Lan Zhou leaned against a pillar and laughed. “Is it that E’nie herself wants to go play?”
She didn’t hide it, squinting her eyes as she admitted, “Yes. I grew up without ever really leaving the Forbidden City. Later, when I married your Ama, it was just from the palace to the mansion. All I saw along the way was water—I never gained much experience.” She turned to look at him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, why does everyone in the Prince’s mansion speak with a Beijing accent? The Yuwen Clan has been enfeoffed for over two hundred years. If not for seeing the fief in Nanjing, I’d have thought I’d returned to Beijing City.” She playfully mimicked the accent, “Ah dong ah, and ‘duiguo,’ ‘taiqi’… Nanjing dialect, I can’t understand a word.”
Lan Zhou clasped his hands behind his back and said, “E’nie doesn’t know, but the Imperial Concubine in the mansion is from Beijing. When she married the Grand Prince, she brought over twenty accompanying retinues and servants. These people settled in the mansion, and gradually the northern accent became prevalent, even influencing us younger generations.”These were all just formal pleasantries, enough to gloss over the matter. In truth, every generation of the Yuwen Clan's princes ultimately married a true Beijinger as their primary consort. There was no other reason than to ensure that future generations would not lose their connection to the capital. Whether you were going to the capital, speaking, or socializing, you had to communicate with people. In critical moments, if they spoke their Beijing dialect and you spoke your Wu dialect, it would be like a chicken talking to a duck—requiring a dedicated interpreter in between, which would complicate matters. However, since they ultimately lived in the south, going out meant hearing the Jiangnan dialect, so some phrases were not as authentic as those of a true Beijinger. For example, terms like "laoye'er" or "pingdi kou bing" were things he had never even heard of.
"The Imperial Concubine has been in the Southern Garden for too long, and sometimes she lacks a certain flavor. From now on, you should learn from E'nie..."
Wanwan smiled and said, "Hold on, just regarding the word 'learn,' Beijing distinguishes between the pronunciation of the elite households and the alleyways. In official speech, it's pronounced 'xue,' but in the local dialect, it's pronounced 'xiao.' I grew up in the palace, so I mostly use the official pronunciation. If you want to learn the most authentic, you should seek out those who perform opera as your teachers." She gently smoothed his hair. "In my opinion, learning the official pronunciation is enough. If you learn it too perfectly, people might laugh at you and mistake you for a street performer at Tianqiao."
Even when discussing topics that brought her joy, her smile remained reserved. Lan Zhou had been ill for two days, and she had personally taken care of him. Because he was young, she hadn't made him move out of the rear courtyard even after he recovered. The distinctions between legitimate mothers and illegitimate sons were nothing like the strict and rigid hierarchy he had previously imagined. Her temperament was very easygoing, and she got along well with everyone—except, of course, his Ama. Back then, he had said that Bu Yinlou could not stay, but his Ama had wanted to use her to control Bu Yinlou. In the end, he hesitated and ended up trapping himself.
He forced a bright smile. "E'nie must have been bored in the palace, right? What did you do for entertainment in the spring?"
She thought for a moment. "Raising pigeons and flying kites. Beijingers love flying kites. Some attach whistles and lanterns to their kites, sending centipede kites into the sky at night, making the whole evening lively. Unfortunately, those lantern-lit kites were prone to causing fires when they fell, so the capital later banned them."
He nodded. "I don’t know if the servants have told you, but the day after tomorrow is Ama’s birthday. The Prince’s residence will host a banquet and invite opera troupes to perform in the evening. Tomorrow, the Secondary Consorts will come to pay their respects and ask you to return to the Prince’s residence to preside over the event. I was thinking, if you have some free time, I could accompany you to fly kites. What kind do you like? I’ll have someone make them for you."
Wanwan paused for a moment upon hearing this. Speaking of Yuwen Liangshi, it had been over ten days since she last saw him. Last time, Rong Bao mentioned that the Qiantang River had breached its banks, and he had gone there to plug the gap. Why had he been gone for so long without any news?
She hesitated and asked, "If your Ama isn’t here, how will his birthday celebration be arranged?"
Lan Zhou blinked his innocent, wide eyes. "Ama is returning this afternoon. Didn’t anyone inform you?" He grew annoyed as he spoke. "What are the servants doing? Keeping such important matters from their superiors—what is the meaning of this!"
Wanwan felt a bit awkward. It was she who had forbidden them from reporting Yuwen Liangshi’s news, so she had no idea about his birthday or his whereabouts.
"Will E'nie honor us with your presence?" Lan Zhou looked up at her. "Everyone knows my Ama married a princess. If you don’t attend his birthday, who knows what rumors will spread outside."Naturally, the formalities had to be properly observed, and she could not neglect her own duties either. Turning around, she called for Tong Huan: "Tell Steward Yu to prepare a birthday gift for the Prince. We'll need it the day after tomorrow."
Tong Huan replied, "It was already prepared earlier, but since the actual day hasn't arrived yet, I didn’t report it to Your Highness."
She gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, took Lan Zhou’s schoolwork, and had him recite two passages from The Doctrine of the Mean. Seeing that he was quite proficient, she praised him and sent him outside to play. As for the earlier conversation, she didn’t pay much mind to it. As noon approached, she had her meal and strolled along the corridor to aid digestion. The courtyard, once bleak in the wind and rain, now appeared vibrant and full of life after the storm had passed—this was the true essence of April.
Spring often brings drowsiness. After walking for a while, her eyelids grew heavy. Rubbing the back of her neck, she declared it was no use—she had to return and find a couch for her afternoon nap. This had always been the way in the palace: three meals and two naps. The deep palace was a lonely place, and time was passed in such a manner. Even now that she was outside, old habits were hard to break.
In the bedroom, half the window curtains were drawn. The incense table stood bathed in a patch of sunlight, the green bronze Boshan censer gleaming as if dripping with color. Wisps of incense smoke curled from the intricately layered lid, while the bed curtains enclosed a small, secluded space reserved for her afternoon rest. She had always had a habit: no one could be nearby while she slept. Even on sweltering summer days when the heat left her dazed, she would simply open a window—no need for anyone to fan her. She could toss and turn freely on the bed, and it didn’t matter if she fell off, but she could not bear to hear any human sounds. Whether footsteps or coughs, the slightest noise would wake her, and then her temper would be astonishingly foul—not even The Emperor could placate her in the slightest.
Tong Huan and Xiao You withdrew, and the Nurse Matrons attending in the courtyard dispersed beyond the second gate. At this time, everyone could steal a moment of leisure—brewing a pot of tea, enjoying a couple of pastries. The afternoon hours at the Eldest Princess Residence were far more relaxed than those in the Forbidden City.
Xiao You followed a young maid to the front courtyard to see the newly purchased fabrics, while Tong Huan placed a bench across the doorway. Spotting Yu Xixia approaching from afar, she stood up to greet him. Since both were assigned by Xiao Duo, they had frequent private dealings and saw no need for secrecy. She asked, "How goes the investigation our mistress ordered?"
Yu Xixia glanced at her. "What can be done? Last year, the Director went to Nanjing, and the Eastern Factory agents also made inquiries everywhere, but the other side was more skilled—not a single clue was revealed." He then gazed toward the Main Chamber and frowned. "After all, the Princess Royal has married into this household. Moreover, the Director is still in the capital. Without his instructions, we cannot act rashly. As for us, we are now in the service of Her Highness. Balancing both sides is most crucial. Since the Prince of Nanyuan remains inactive, we might as well enjoy the peace."
These were honest words. Once a couple is married, one naturally hopes for their happiness, and the servants also seek an easier life. As long as Seal-holding Xiao is around, even if changes occur in the future, he will surely plan an escape route for the Princess Royal. But if he is no longer here, it will truly fall upon people like them to take responsibility and stand by the Princess Royal through thick and thin.
Tong Huan acknowledged this. "She’s resting now. I’ll relay the message later. The day after tomorrow is the Prince of Nanyuan’s birthday. Her Highness will certainly go to the Princely Mansion. Please take care to make preparations in advance."
Yu Xixia nodded and left. Leaning against the doorframe, she turned her gaze to the distant sky. After the rain, the sky was clear for miles, a vast and pristine blue. Such a pure, untainted color, if gazed upon for too long, could truly enchant the soul.At the boundless blue horizon, a figure approached slowly. The moon-white ceremonial robe was crisscrossed with golden threads, shimmering brilliantly under the sunlight. She tensed, quickly rising to greet him. The Prince of Nanyuan moved unhurriedly, his expression indifferent even as he drew near. She curtsied respectfully, "Greetings, Your Highness. Congratulations on your safe return. You must have endured much hardship during this journey."
He did not respond to her words, instead asking, "Is Her Highness taking her afternoon nap?"
Tong Huan replied affirmatively, "She has just fallen asleep. Your Highness may have to wait a while. Her Highness dislikes being disturbed, and I will only be able to announce your arrival in about an hour..."
He raised a hand, "There is no need for you to announce me. I will wait for her inside."
Tong Huan was startled, "Your Highness, there are rules in the residence..."
He suddenly turned his head, his eyes deep as abysses, devoid of any warmth. "Since I inherited the title, no one has dared to mention those two words to me. Rules? Are you speaking to me about rules? The absurd rule of the Princess and the Imperial Consort living in separate residences should have been abolished long ago. I care not how things are done in the capital. In my Southern Garden, my rules prevail. Those who serve should not use doctrines to restrain their masters. Instead, they ought to offer more guidance—that is the duty of servants. I know your private motives. For the Imperial Consort to enter the residence, he must offer bribes and buy off the maids and attendants. Rest assured, I will not shortchange you a single coin. But from today onward, no more obstruction. Otherwise, I care not whether you were sent by the Emperor or by Xiao Duo—you will not be spared."
The corners of his lips lifted slightly, his tone calm as if discussing everyday matters, yet every word he spoke struck at the heart. This was his true self, far from the humble and courteous demeanor they had witnessed while serving the Princess Royal. He possessed an air of looking down upon all things. To those he cared for, he might be gentle and amiable, but to those who mattered little, he was cold to the point of cruelty.
It was clear he knew everything that had transpired in the Forbidden City, and thus he was fully aware of her origins. Tong Huan broke into a cold sweat, forcing herself to remain composed as she said, "Your Highness misunderstands me. I meant that Her Highness has just fallen asleep..."
He scoffed, "I know Her Highness is irritable upon waking. I know how to handle it. Say no more and step aside."
Tong Huan had no choice but to move aside. He passed through the drooping flower gate, circling around a crabapple tree. The last time he had been here was on their wedding night. Afterward, whenever he wished to enter, she had strictly forbidden him, leaving him to sigh in frustration from beyond the walls.
When the temporary palace was converted into the Eldest Princess Residence, although the imperial court had ordered the Princely Administration to oversee the preparations, it was he himself who had truly managed the process. Thus, he was intimately familiar with every plant and tree here. The golden-threaded, red-lacquered bamboo curtains hung beneath the eaves, one after another, rolled up high and low. They were once mere lifeless objects, but since her arrival, they had gradually come to life.
During his days in Hangzhou, standing amidst the vast floodwaters, his mind was occupied with dispatching relief efforts, yet his heart remained preoccupied with her. He wondered if she had grown accustomed to life in Jinling, and whether she ever thought of him. In the past, his first act upon returning was to pay respects to the Imperial Concubine. Now, it was to see her. Though she remained indifferent, compared to the long, soul-tormenting distances of the past, this lack of understanding was nothing.He gradually reached the foot of the steps and looked up. Her bedchamber maintained the highest specifications of the traveling palace, with the golden phoenix and imperial seal under the eaves freshly renovated, shining even more dazzlingly bright. He was about to see her—eager, yet faintly apprehensive. After standing still for a moment to steady his breath, he lifted his robe and ascended the white marble steps.
Entering the main hall, the room was vast and empty, with only the lotus water clock emitting a soft, rhythmic drip. He knew she was in the eastern Warm Pavilion, where her sleeping couch lay behind several layers of heavy curtains. He moved quietly, drawing closer layer by layer. Beneath the drapes, a fragrant aroma lingered—the kind of scent a young lady’s chamber should have. His heart pounded as he stood before the final gauze curtain. Through its loosely woven threads, he glimpsed a delicate silhouette lying on her side, her soft clothing outlining her slender waist with exquisite grace. He reached out to lift the curtain but hesitated repeatedly. Assuming she was already sound asleep, he feared disturbing her and incurring her displeasure.
Perhaps it would be better to wait a little longer. Suppressing his impulse, he was about to retreat when he heard her soft voice asking who was there. Then she propped herself up on one elbow, her jet-black hair flowing like satin onto the Persian rug beneath the Arhat couch.
Retreat was no longer an option; he could only move forward. How absurd—what was there to fear? He had weathered countless storms without flinching, yet here he was, intimidated by a mere girl. Could she possibly devour him?
“It’s me,” he said, lifting the curtain. The hazy outline sharpened instantly. She lay there, her face like peach blossoms, her lips like cinnabar.
Wanwan felt dizzy, her mind weary and thoughts unclear. As the figure behind the curtain entered, she squinted for a long while but couldn’t recognize who it was. His appearance and build seemed deeply familiar, yet who was he…? She felt as if she were in a dream, and since it was a dream, why bother with his identity?
She lay back down, closed her eyes, and murmured, “You’ve come…”
He hadn’t expected such a calm response; her tone left him pleasantly surprised. “Yes,” he replied. “I’ve returned. How have you been, Your Highness, during this time?”
She shifted clumsily, inviting him to sit, but didn’t answer his question. Instead, she mused aloud, “Is it getting dark?”
He glanced back at the threshold window—the daylight was clearly bright. Could she still be lost in sleep?
He moved closer and sat on the edge of the couch. Her sleeves were wide, and after turning, they had ridden up to her shoulders, revealing a curve of snow-white arm—a sight of breathtaking beauty. His thoughts in disarray, he remarked casually, “When I entered, I noticed it was high noon.”
She mumbled something—not an auspicious hour. Probably because operas often sang of executions carried out at high noon.
In this tranquil moment, with him sitting and her lying down, there was no conflict—it felt like the greatest reward after a long and arduous journey. He stole glances at her: her cheeks were slightly flushed, as if she were very warm, with dampness at her temples. The collar of her inner garment had torn slightly, exposing her fragile neck, from which a red thread hung, suspending a silver locket the size of an abacus bead. He knew it was a keepsake left to her by Consort Xu when she was young. Even after all these years, she still yearned for familial affection—a longing he had silently observed, growing more heartrending with time.
Unable to resist, he asked softly, “While I was away, did you ever think of me?”She slowly opened her eyes, gazing at him dazedly. One hand reached out sluggishly, climbing up his Ceremonial Robe, over his back, then wrapping around his waist. She pressed her face against his thigh and said with a faint, tearful voice, "I miss you... but... I can't."
Hearing her words, his mind buzzed as if his very soul were about to leave his body. He couldn't believe it was real.
What did she say? Had he misheard? Did she just admit she missed him? His heart churned with mixed emotions. Gripping her hand tightly, he leaned down and asked, "Is what Your Highness said... truly from the heart?"
Her gaze was unfocused, struggling to sharpen. She stared for a long time, seeing his resolute brows and straight nose, and felt he must be the one she had longed for day and night.
A wave of grievance washed over her. There was so much she wanted to say, but she feared the dream would suddenly end and he would vanish again. So she reached out, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently pulled him down. He leaned closer until their cheeks touched. With a soft sob, her arms coiled around him like ivy, sacrificing all her pride to ensnare him.
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