Lan Zhоu's birthdау fеll оn the Dragon Воat Festivаl, which was асtuаllу аn inаuspiciоus day. It was said to be аn unluсky dаy within аn unluсkу mоnth, a timе whеn thе Fivе Рoisоns thrived. Children bоrn оn this daу were beliеved to bring misfоrtune upоn thеir раrеnts, sо thrоughout historу, it wаs not unсоmmоn for infаnts born оn thе Dragon Воat Fеstival to be аbandoned.
Еvеrу yеar when his birthdaу саme аrоund, Lаn Zhоu fеlt unhаpру. In the mаnsions оf nobles аnd prinсеs, thе mastеr's birthdау wаs usually an оccasion for livеly celеbrations—аdults would sеt uр stagеs for operas and host banquets, while children at least got to enjoy a shadow play. Yet he took no pleasure in it. Each year, he passed the day quietly, with only his wet nurse boiling two eggs for him. Eating them was considered enough to mark the occasion.
Wanwan held a pinwheel and sat side by side with him on the steps. "You're just a child, yet you carry such heavy thoughts. It's not like you could choose the day you were born. What's wrong with the Dragon Boat Festival? Even Emperor Huizong of Song was born on that day!"
Lan Zhou glanced at her gloomily. "What's so great about Emperor Huizong of Song? He ended up in such a pitiful state. I don’t want to be like him! I’ve asked the Imperial Concubine, and she said children born on the Dragon Boat Festival either bring harm to themselves or to their parents. Thinking about it makes me feel terrible. Ama and the Imperial Concubine don’t mind, but I can’t help feeling ashamed—such an unlucky day, and born to a Secondary Consort at that..."
There was indeed an insurmountable gap between legitimate and illegitimate children. No matter how remarkable an illegitimate son might be, he was still born to a concubine. For a child with such high aspirations as him, this was a lasting torment.
Wanwan patted his shoulder comfortingly. "You’re so clever—who would dare look down on you? I’d be the first to stand up for you. Have you read the Book of Song? Wang Zhen'e, the famous general of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, was born on the fifth day of the fifth month. His family wanted to abandon him, but his grandfather said, 'This is no ordinary child; he will bring glory to our family.' He was raised and truly became a remarkable figure!" She studied him for a moment. "No wonder you’re named Lan Zhou. Actually, did your Ama intend to name you 'Dragon Boat'? But I think your courtesy name could be Zhen'e—Yuwen Zhen'e. See how majestic that sounds!"
Lan Zhou watched her laugh heartily and mulled over those words, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to admire them. However, he realized she was right about one thing—his Ama might have originally intended to name him "Dragon Boat." How much care would be given to a child born to a concubine?
He felt somewhat disappointed. "E'nie, when will you have a younger brother?"
Wanwan said, "I don’t know. There’s no use rushing such things."
"Then... will I never get to be your son?"
Wanwan puffed her cheeks and blew on the pinwheel, smiling at his words. "You call me E'nie, so you are my son."
Verbal promises were always so easy to make. He turned his face away, curling his lips slightly toward the vast sky.
Though he didn’t celebrate his birthday, festivities in the Prince’s mansion were unavoidable. During the Dragon Boat Festival, the women gathered to weave five-colored threads and eat rice dumplings. The Grand Prince’s sons had Established Separate Residences, but during festivals, the consorts would come over to keep the Imperial Concubine company.
Lan Zhou asked, "Aren’t you going to the front courtyard, E'nie? Those aunts arrived early."
She said she knew. "Arriving late shows my status." She glanced at the water clock and felt it was about time. Standing up, she extended her hand to him. "Let’s go greet them. Later, we’ll arrange two operas for you, including Havoc in Heaven."
Lan Zhou obediently took her hand.At eight years old, the boy was already quite tall for his age, standing beside her like a younger brother. Lan Zhou was sometimes shy and hesitant, but she never took it to heart. When receiving formal greetings from her sisters-in-law in front of others, she would sit down herself and motion for Lan Zhou to sit beside her.
When women gathered together, gossip was inevitable. The consort of Fifth Brother was just as talkative as he was, and among the room full of women, she had the most to say. Wanwan listened as she recounted a story about a distant relative of the Yuwen Clan—a princess who had married a terrible husband. After visiting a temple to offer incense, she became involved with the young abbot. Later, she became pregnant and gave birth to a young monk. Since her husband paid no attention anyway, the princess simply moved into the temple and lived as the abbot’s wife. In the end, the consort sighed, "If I had a daughter like that, how could I ever show my face in public? But Tie Rong’s wife is something else—when visiting relatives, she doesn’t hold back at all. When others ask about the eldest princess, she says she’s doing just fine, much more comfortable than she was in the Wen family. Just look at that—what kind of mother is she? Instead of disciplining her daughter harshly, she’s actually pleased."
Everyone clicked their tongues in amazement. "Tie Rong’s wife comes from a poor family in the military barracks—she’s hardly presentable. In her eyes, what does reputation matter? As long as she’s comfortable, that’s enough."
The Fifth Consort was moved to reflect, "That’s why they say if you don’t raise a daughter properly, she’ll bring trouble to another family. Daughters require even more care and attention than sons." After speaking for a while, she suddenly remembered that the Princess Royal was present and fell silent, then laughed, "We’ve been so caught up in our own chatter, I wonder if Your Highness even enjoys listening. Let’s have Xiao Guixiang perform a private show tonight. With the men away, we can entertain ourselves. Ah, speaking of the men, my lord sent a letter yesterday saying it’s still cool enough in the capital to wear layered clothing—the north is much colder than here. Sixth Brother is the same, drilling troops on the training ground morning and night. The fog is heavy at night, so he must take care not to develop a chronic leg ailment as he gets older."
Her careless words sent a chill through everyone present. Enfeoffed clans faced strict restrictions on entering and leaving the capital. Anyone who mentioned going to the capital had to be reported and thoroughly investigated—this the Princess Royal knew well. Moreover, apart from the naval forces, there were supposedly no troops stationed in Jiangnan. So what exactly was Sixth Brother drilling?
The Imperial Concubine couldn’t outright rebuke her, so she tactfully clarified, "Fifth Brother went to the capital to meet the Emperor on his third brother’s orders, didn’t he? It’s been about twenty days—he’s probably on his way back by now. As for Sixth Brother, he’s overly meticulous. What is there to drill with those hundred or so soldiers? They’ll remain as they are anyway."
Wanwan said nothing. She set down her chopsticks, took the handkerchief from Tong Huan, and dabbed her mouth. "The red bean paste is too cloyingly sweet. I still prefer plain rice cakes—dipped in sugar, how delightful!"
Lan Zhou quickly stood up to have some prepared, but she smiled and said it wasn’t necessary. "I’ve already eaten half in one go—I’m afraid it might cause indigestion. I need to move around a bit." Turning to the Imperial Concubine, she said, "Today is the Eldest Prince’s birthday, so I’d like to request two operas for him as well. E’nie and the consorts can look over the playbill first. Allow me to walk off my meal, and I’ll return when the performance begins."
With her saying this, no one could insist she stay. Everyone laughed and agreed. Leaning on Tong Huan’s arm, she slowly made her way out of the Silver Peace Hall.
"Did you hear what the Fifth Consort said?" she asked Tong Huan once they were far enough away.
Tong Huan replied, "Yes. I await your instructions, mistress.""Have Yu Xixia send someone to Xuzhou to check. If it's true... then there isn't a single good person left in this family."
Her ability to remain clear-headed at such a time surprised Tong Huan. He had thought that a young woman, once married, would focus all her attention on her husband. Especially since she and the Prince of Nanyuan had only recently reconciled—upon hearing this, she should have been worried or evasive. Even if she had doubts, she wouldn’t have had the courage to dig deeper. Yet she was different, as if she could detach herself at any moment. Once she sensed trouble, she acted without hesitation, making it seem as though her devotion to the Prince of Nanyuan wasn’t entirely sincere.
Tong Huan went outside to relay the order, while she strolled alone in the garden, looking at the trees and the birds. Her solitary figure, he hoped, didn’t appear lost.
Lan Zhou stood behind the drooping flower gate, watching from a distance, vaguely sensing that something was seriously amiss. Chang Bao stood beside him, hunched over and awaiting orders. Seeing the young master’s furrowed brow, he rashly voiced his thoughts: "I’m afraid this can’t be contained. There’s more than one or two places where troops are being trained. If someone finds out and reports it to the capital, things will get serious. In my humble opinion, we might as well go all the way..."
Before he could finish, the young master turned and glared at him fiercely. "Go all the way how? Say it again!"
Chang Bao hesitated. "Like last time with Consort Bu..."
Lan Zhou slapped him across the face. "Who do you think this is? If the Prince finds out, he’ll have you skinned alive!"
Chang Bao wore a pitiful expression. "My head is filled with bean curd—I can’t think straight. I just thought this would be the easiest way..."
"And then give the imperial court an excuse for 'failure in serving the master' to implicate nine clans? If we followed your plan, none of us would survive." He said sternly, "Report to the Prince immediately. Send riders on fast horses to alert all locations. If we can contain it, that’s best. If not... find a way to bribe them for now and deal with them later."
Chang Bao bowed deeply in acknowledgment, muttering to himself, "This Your Highness... she’s already married to our Prince, yet she still sides with the living deity in the Forbidden City at every turn."
Lan Zhou scoffed. "What do you know? She is first the Princess Royal of Great Ye, and only then the consort of the Prince of Nanyuan. This vast foundation of over two hundred years was built by our ancestors generation after generation. Even if she doesn’t care for that foolish ruler, she still cares for her fathers. Murong Gaogong is no Emperor Li Houzhu—he’s more troublesome than Li Houzhu. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have so smoothly married the Princess Royal into Nanyuan." With a wave of his hand, he added, "Enough chatter. Go attend to your duties!"
As for Wanwan, she no longer had the energy to attend the evening banquet. Using illness as an excuse, she begged off.
Alone and burdened with worries, she lay listlessly on the couch, listening to the howling wind outside. Soon, the patter of rain began. She rose to push open the window and saw a gloomy sky, like an overturned clay pot. Bean-sized raindrops struck the banana leaves, crackling loudly.
Xiao You came in to ask if she wanted dinner served. The rice dumplings she had eaten at noon still sat heavily in her stomach, so she wasn’t hungry. Returning to the couch, she lay down and asked with closed eyes whether the agents from Yu Xixia’s side had been dispatched. Xiao You replied, "Yes, Your Highness. Rest assured, Lord Yu will handle it." After a moment’s hesitation, she added, "If it turns out to be true, how does Your Highness plan to deal with it?"Yes, how to handle it. She had been thinking about it for half a day and still hadn’t found an answer. She only remembered that he had once promised her, and she had trusted him deeply. Now it was merely speculation, without solid evidence. She could only keep comforting herself—if it were true, perhaps he just needed troops to guard the Southern Garden. For example, if the disaster victims from Huaining overflowed and the key passages couldn’t be held, the Southern Garden might truly be flooded by refugees. Nowadays, the Feudal Princes all appear respectful on the surface but are secretly scheming behind the scenes. Those who truly abide by imperial decrees are probably fools...
She also hoped he could protect himself, of course, as long as the numbers remained manageable. If they exceeded too much, she couldn’t help but suspect he had other ambitions.
Each Feudal Territory was like a small imperial court, just with limited territory and scale. He had many matters to attend to and was therefore very busy, sometimes disappearing for entire days. She had grown accustomed to saving up what she wanted to say. But today, by the time she had saved it up, she no longer felt like speaking. She had Tong Huan light the incense early and moved to lie down on the bed.
When he returned, the night was already deep. She lay with her back turned, hearing footsteps approach the bed. Then he lay down beside her, habitually embracing her from behind, like a small bowl nestled inside a larger one—a seamless warmth, as if a lost part of her body had returned, bringing peace and contentment.
She liked this inconsiderate disturbance of his, letting her know he was back, so she could sleep peacefully through the night.
She shifted slightly, and he tightened his arms around her, his hoarse voice carrying a bewitching tone, "Were you still waiting for me?"
She hummed in agreement and turned over, "So late, what kept you busy?"
He sighed, "The imperial court is inspecting the spring silkworms and summer mulberry, so I had to host the imperial envoy with a feast. The endless toasts at the banquet were more exhausting than anything... If I’m late in the future, don’t wait for me. Rest on your own."
He frowned, weariness on his face, but his gaze never stopped. He was observing carefully, trying to detect even a hint of displeasure in her expression. In truth, she didn’t know that dealing with her suspicions was secondary; the most troublesome part was covering up the newly built fortune ships and Haicang ships at New River Mouth. Fortunately, Xiao Duo would never come again—a civil official who knew nothing about naval forces, only clutching account books to verify the numbers of firearms and ships. Adding a few strokes here, subtracting a few there, though manageable, still required considerable effort.
He had received news about the events of the day and knew she had already sent someone to investigate. Even if he could cover it up flawlessly, he still felt somewhat disappointed by her actions. He had thought that after becoming so intimate, she would focus wholeheartedly on being his little wife, but she had never let go. She was so stubborn—if she truly uncovered any clues, would she cut ties with him completely?
He gazed at her, this face etched in his mind, unforgettable even unto death. But sometimes, being too close made it blurry. He raised his hand to touch her rosy cheek, forcing a smile, "Did you miss me today?"
Wanwan nodded, leaning closer to him, "Hold me tightly, will you?"
Again, like this—the words in her heart left unspoken. He wanted to resolve it but didn’t know where to start. They played charades with each other, constantly scheming, truly pitiful and hateful.He did as she said, holding her tightly, his arms aching slightly. She remained silent, just pressing close to him. When he kissed her, there was even a hint of roughness, for he too was resentful, blaming her for being too sensitive and leaving no room for compromise. He didn’t know how to make her let down her guard. He had done all he could—what more was there to do?
She wept beneath him, but he didn’t relent. He didn’t dare blame her, only loved her with a hint of chastisement. She gazed at him dazedly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes innocent. He covered her eyes, his heart in turmoil. After all the planning up to now, many had stood by his side in battle. If he paused, they would surely keep urging him on. In trying to have it both ways, the path ahead had become even more difficult than before—something he hadn’t anticipated before marrying the princess.
Exhausted to the extreme, his body emptied of strength, he lay there panting. With difficulty, she reached out, her slender fingers massaging his temples as she softly asked, “Liangshi, is your head hurting again?”
Last time, when he had been too lost in passion and made her cry, he had used a headache as an excuse. She seemed to have remembered—whenever he acted like this, it meant his head hurt, and she shouldn’t blame him.
Suddenly, his heart ached. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I’m sorry, I was reckless.”
She smiled faintly. “No need to apologize. I know you’re tired.”
He remained silent for a long time. Wanwan thought he had fallen asleep, but he suddenly said, “I have troops under my command.”
She was startled, staring at him in astonishment. He sat up, looking dejected. “I have troops, stationed in every county. The situation is too chaotic now. Those Feudal Princes are all eyeing the throne covetously. If I follow the imperial court’s orders, I might have my head cut off in my sleep someday. I have to protect myself.”
His honesty calmed her. “Just for self-defense, right?”
He nodded. “Just for self-defense, and to support the emperor when necessary.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled warmly. “That’s good. Since you’ve told me outright, I won’t have to guess and doubt anymore.”
She nestled closer, her soft body like fine silk, wrapping tightly around him. He felt guilty and ashamed. Even if everything paused, his ambitions remained. Deceiving her again and again like this—he didn’t know what terrible scene would unfold when she learned the truth someday.
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