After twо dауs оf rеst in the caрitаl, it was finallу time to rеturn tо thе Sоuthеrn Gаrden. Wanwаn was anxious in her heаrt, wishing shе cоuld leаvе this Еldеst Prinсеss Rеsidеnсe immеdiately—it wаs а cаge that imprisоned her, аnd she didn’t want tо lingеr hеrе а mоmеnt longer.
Тhis timе, Thе Еmрerоr keрt his wоrd, ordering thе рreрaration оf a Treаsurе Shiр and аllowing them to сhооse а dау tо sеt оff. Hе wаs alsо quite аttentive tо the sаfеtу of thеir jоurnеу. The Silk-clаd Guards originally statiоned at the Еldest Prinсess Rеsidеncе were still to accompany her. She wasn’t sure what considerations lay behind this—perhaps there was still a sense of caution. But according to The Emperor, the Princess herself had her own forces, which were her own source of confidence. "If the Imperial Consort treats you poorly or does something to wrong you, as long as you’re willing, you can order your people to turn his world upside down. A daughter of the Murong family must not suffer at the hands of others."
Wanwan merely smiled. She felt Liangshi wasn’t that kind of person, and she had no reason to distrust him in any way. After worrying for so long, once she relaxed, she was too lazy to consider anything else. As long as he was by her side, everything else was secondary. Liangshi treated her with genuine sincerity; she could doubt many things, but she never doubted his heart.
The Silk-clad Guards had to accompany them, and Wanwan didn’t object. In truth, Jinshi was a decent person. During the more than two years he had been stationed at the Eldest Princess Residence, he had hardly ever made things difficult for her. As time passed, they had become like friends, and she still trusted him deeply.
Everyone in the entourage was busy preparing luggage. Wanwan strolled to the front courtyard, where Jinshi was overseeing the loading of the carts. He turned and saw her, straightening up to give her a slight smile.
She was doing well now, nourished by love, her entire being vibrant. In the past, her face had always lacked color, her eyes dull and lifeless. One couldn’t remain joyless for too long—prolonged sorrow would wither even a person beyond saving. He still remembered when she had suffered a miscarriage, that pitiable state of having no one to rely on. Even now, the memory made his heart ache with sorrow... But now, with the arrival of the Prince of Nanyuan, she had finally come back to life. He couldn’t quite articulate his feelings. Even if some things were never meant to be his, with time, emotions grew, and it was hard not to feel reluctant to let go.
The Princess Royal was someone who cherished old sentiments. Whether in times of scarcity or abundance, she remained the same. Because The Emperor had issued the order, she even felt a bit guilty toward him.
"I originally said it wasn’t necessary. You all have families and responsibilities. Sending you to the Southern Garden might make it hard for you to leave your homes behind."
Jinshi, however, didn’t see it that way. "The Silk-clad Guards are drawn from all over Great Ye. None of us have homes specifically in Beijing. For people like us, wherever we’re placed, that becomes our home. Since the imperial court has assigned us to the Southern Garden, we will follow and protect Your Highness."
She tilted her head slightly, feeling awkward. "You are meant for great tasks. Wasting your time on me might hold you back. Please, Thousand Household Commander, go and ask if anyone has difficulties. If so, report back to me, and I’ll plead your case to The Emperor."
Jinshi smiled. "Your Highness’s kindness might end up harming them instead. The Emperor tolerates no flaws. Anyone who dares to desert would surely face severe consequences!" After a pause, he added, "Your Highness dislikes troubling others—I know that. But the Silk-clad Guards aren’t as delicate as you might think. We go through fire and water, planted like nails wherever we’re needed. Making our home wherever we go is our fate."
Wanwan let out a soft "oh" and lowered her head, realizing that their assignments ran deep. Perhaps guarding her at the Princess's Residence had been the easiest duty of all.Jinshi studied her carefully. Ordinarily, his gaze should not linger on her face—that would be disrespectful and impermissible. Yet people inevitably have moments when they cannot help themselves; he had truly forgotten propriety. He asked her, "Is Your Highness well?"
Upon hearing this, her face flushed crimson. "Yes, all is well. I must also thank you for speaking so much to me and encouraging me. I listened to you and finally waited for this day."
He nodded slowly. "This humble official always knew this day would come. Your Highness deserves to be treated kindly."
As they whispered to each other, someone entered through the door. Seeing her conversing with another man, his expression immediately darkened. But his displeasure only lasted while she had not yet noticed him. He scrutinized that Silk-clad Guard—his eyes sharp as torches, his aura fierce and imposing. Those in this line of work carried unknown amounts of blood debt on their hands; they were the emperor's handy blades, machines that killed without blinking. Wanwan had a kind heart and never saw distinctions of nobility or baseness, but he despised these people deeply. They were spies planted by the imperial court; today they could protect your safety, tomorrow they could turn their blades against you.
However, judging by their expressions and movements, the two seemed familiar. He knew Wanwan had a connection with a Thousand Household Commander named Jinshi, who had extended a helping hand during her time of crisis. Wanwan had always felt grateful to him.
Since that was the case, being petty and narrow-minded would be rather laughable. He was a man who moved in social circles; even if jealousy pierced his bones, his face remained perfectly amiable.
He approached, subtly drawing Wanwan into his sphere of influence. "All preparations have been made; we can depart at any time." After speaking, he cupped his hands toward Jinshi. "We shall trouble Commander Jin to look after us along the journey."
Jinshi's gaze swept lightly over him before he bowed his head in salute. "It is this humble officer's duty. Please rest assured, Prince."
The contest between men sometimes required only a single clash of glances. Jinshi understood well the depth of this Feudal Prince's scheming mind. To him, the title of Imperial Consort was merely an additional honorific; at all times, he represented the formidable power that dominated a region. He possessed a deep sense of possessiveness over what belonged to him. That was just as well—the delicate princess needed a strong protector to shield her from wind and rain, to ensure her days remained undisturbed.
Wanwan now went with the flow. When he said it was time to depart, she leaned against him, even if he were to take her to the ends of the earth.
They entered the Western Sea to bid farewell to the emperor, who was deep in meditation and had no leisure to receive them. They knelt in worship outside the palace doors, then withdrew from the palace gates. As they walked south along the Tube River, they suddenly turned and saw a figure standing atop the wall, dressed in pure white Daoist robes, waving farewell to them. His form resembled a crane—somewhat lonely, yet also aloof.
Wanwan feared he might fall. He loved climbing heights and stood atop the Female Wall, poised as if about to take flight. They bowed to him from afar. The emperor cupped his hands like a trumpet, projecting his voice far into the distance: "Imperial Consort, you must treat Wanwan well, or I will not forgive you."
Tears suddenly welled in Wanwan's eyes. No matter how confused he might be, he was still her brother after all. This bond of blood could never be severed.
Liangshi bowed deeply, acknowledging the command. Turning, he gently patted her back. "It is getting late; we should set out. E'nie is still waiting for us."
The Treasure Ship was at the Tongzhou dock. Once they reached there and transferred to the water route, they would be settled. From north to south, the journey would take over ten days. With ample time on the road, they could be together to their heart's content.What should one do after reuniting? It's best to do nothing at all—just lie there, open the skylight on the cabin roof, watch the clear sky by day and the stars by night. Time passes slowly and meaningfully, each moment full and substantial.
Liangshi was no mere warrior, not the kind of man who knew nothing but fighting and killing. He could foster prosperity in the Southern Garden, wield power when necessary, and embody elegance when the occasion called for it. Though he was not as proficient as Wanwan in the things she excelled at, he still understood them—such as music theory. The two of them would lie on the bed playing the Xun or the Vertical Bamboo Flute. He knew about the Tang Dynasty's Music Bureau, and he was familiar with the Hu Xuan Dance and the "Stepping Mother Ballad." Whenever Wanwan discussed these topics with him, he could keep up. Women in marriage likely understood this deeply—it was a sad thing when two people talked past each other. Finding someone who resonated with your soul was truly precious.
When she was in the mood for painting, she loved to play with fine brushwork, dressing him up and asking him to sit still so she could sketch him. He was a man like gold and jade, clad in luxurious silk robes, a faint, shy smile on his face. The scattered golden light outside the cabin fell behind him, and his features were like poetry, indescribable with mere brush and ink.
Wanwan, sleeves pulled back, traced the lines—crescent-like eyebrows, sharply trimmed sideburns, a single stroke of the brow, a strand of hair—gradually taking shape under her Gui Brush.
He couldn't sit still and leaned over to look, earning a scolding from her: "Who told you to move! Look, the texture of the robe doesn't match anymore!"
She pouted, and he, itching with affection, leaned down and kissed her with a soft smack. Remembering how she had spoken with that Silk-clad Guard Thousand Household Commander, his heart still felt a little twisted.
"Wanwan..." he hugged her, shaking her gently, "When I wasn't here, you must have been lonely, right?"
She glanced at him sideways, "Not at all, I had a wonderful time—flowers, moonlight, and wine."
He knew she was deliberately teasing him, so he held back his mischief and tickled her. She laughed until she curled into a ball. Once she caught her breath, she turned and hugged him, her voice forever tinged with grievance, "I wasn't telling the truth... Of course, I was lonely. That pain hurt more than cutting my heart with a knife."
He hesitated for a long time, wanting to speak but holding back. She noticed and asked, looking at his face, what was wrong. He dodged the question, saying it was nothing. After a while, he couldn't help himself. Sitting there, he rubbed the ground with the tip of his foot, muttering to himself, "I've always despised those who take advantage of others' weaknesses. A gentleman's admiration for a fair lady is understandable, but knowing full well that the flower already has an owner and still trying to interfere—that's just low character!"
His words were disjointed, and she was utterly confused, "What's going on? Did someone upset you?"
He glanced at her, his face full of resentment, "I've thought about it for a long time, and I have to tell you this. That Jinshi—you can't see him anymore from now on."
Wanwan was puzzled, "Why? The Thousand Household Commander is a good man..."
"Precisely because you think he's a good man, I won't let you see him," he said angrily. "The Silk-clad Guard is notorious, the greatest scourge of the current dynasty. People of such origins are the most heartless and ungrateful. You can't see through him, mistakenly thinking he's kind. Who knows when he might turn around and bite you? Last time I saw him talking to you, I noticed his shifty eyes, staring at you so eagerly, forgetting his own duty. That's overstepping his bounds—enough to have him executed ten times over! In short, from now on, you can't show him any kindness. Your smiles are only for me, understand?"After all that circling, it turned out to be jealousy. That sourness was even sharper than aged vinegar.
Wanwan couldn’t help but laugh, holding his arm and gently shaking it. “Is this also an old tradition of your Yuwen Clan? If not for the Emperor’s decree, he might not have come to the Southern Garden. When you were away, there were many places where he helped out, and some goodwill still remains. Burning bridges after crossing the river would only chill people’s hearts.”
He said, “I understand. I’ll treat him well elsewhere, and he won’t suffer in the Southern Garden. I just don’t want you to see him. If I find out, it’ll make me feel miserable.”
She understood his meaning—partly finding him amusing, but also deeply comforted. It was precisely because he cared about her that he was so particular. Although she had always thought men were broad-minded, his words came as a great surprise to her. Yet she could empathize; after all the hardships they had endured to be together, there was no room for the slightest flaw.
Smiling, she straightened his collar and whispered, “I understand. From now on, I won’t need to show myself in public, so why go beyond the second gate? As for you, someone who handles major affairs, how can you dwell on such matters…”
His face flushed slightly as he murmured, “Who told me I’ve got such a good wife! Look at those bachelors, all sharp-faced and monkey-cheeked, none of them look like good men.”
It turned out that even the most remarkable men had a childish side. In her eyes, Liangshi was responsible, mindful of the bigger picture, loyal yet not lacking in sentiment. So when he occasionally acted out, it was an unfiltered display of his true nature, which she found utterly endearing. Since he brought it up so awkwardly, she naturally had no reason to refuse. After so many partings and reunions, what mattered most? Only him.
The journey took quite some time, and it was nearly September by the time they returned to the Southern Garden Palace.
Seeing the long-unfamiliar gate felt like crossing from a past life to the present. She stood at the foot of the steps, staring blankly at the massive plaque: “I’m back, I’m back…”
Liangshi squeezed her hand, offering a reassuring smile. Just then, two young men in brocade robes rushed out from inside—tall, already taller than her. Though their frames were not yet fully developed, still somewhat youthful, they leaped to her side. With a crisp sweep of their horseshoe sleeves, they kowtowed: “E’nie, you must be weary from the journey. Your sons welcome you back to the palace.”
Wanwan was taken aback, studying the two boys. She knew they were Lan Zhou and Lanting, but she hadn’t expected them to have grown so much.
Nearly three years had passed, and her memory still lingered on the time she first left the Southern Garden, when Lan Zhou, tearful, tugged at her sleeve and said, “E’nie, don’t go.” Yet in what felt like a blink, they had already become young men. Their figures had changed, even their features were no longer quite the same, making them seem unfamiliar at first glance.
Hesitantly, she called out to Lan Zhou, “Eldest Brother?”
Lan Zhou resembled his father closely—tall and slender, with handsome, refined features. Unlike the Xianbei People, the Qi People matured early. Though only twelve years old, while the princes in the Forbidden City were still half-grown children, he was already capable of handling responsibilities on his own.
The moment she acknowledged him, his face immediately reddened. Shyly smiling, he replied, “Yes, E’nie, your son is here.”
She then looked at Lanting and called out, “Second Brother.” This young man was still a bit of a mess—taller now, but his mind probably hadn’t changed much. He blurted out eagerly, “E’nie, my brother and I have been thinking of you every day.”She smiled, and Liangshi teased him, "You say the same two lines to everyone, don't you have anything fresher to say?"
Lanting stammered in defense, while over there, the Imperial Concubine had stepped out of the Silver Peace Hall and was standing at the foot of the steps, gazing toward them.
Lan Zhou quickly ushered them inside, smiling as he said, "Grandmother has been waiting so long, and finally, E'nie has returned. When we received the letter last time, saying the imperial court had granted a special favor, she was overjoyed. Early this morning, she urged Brother Ting and me to wait outside, and even going in for a sip of water made her quite displeased."
The Imperial Concubine couldn’t wait any longer. Seeing them approach, she stepped forward herself, reaching out from afar, her eyes brimming with tears as she said, "Your Highness has suffered. It’s good now, you’ve finally returned."
Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law embraced and wept together. Wanwan had always gotten along well with the Imperial Concubine, even more closely than with the Empress Dowager. A large part of this was due to their shared affection for Liangshi; since both were devoted to him, there were no disagreements between them.
The Imperial Concubine examined her carefully, tears in her eyes as she said, "News of you in the capital also reached the Southern Garden. Liangshi was burning with anxiety, and I felt the same. It’s pitiful how we were under others’ control. We wanted to bring you back several times but feared The Emperor’s suspicions, so we couldn’t make the trip. Please don’t hold it against us—we truly had no other choice, or we wouldn’t have let you stay in Beijing for so long."
Wanwan said sorrowfully, "Please don’t say that. I’ve also let the Prince and you down. It was my incompetence that couldn’t keep the child…"
The Imperial Concubine insisted, "No, that would be a slap in our faces. You did it for the Southern Garden. We, the Yuwen family, know right from wrong. We should be thanking you, not blaming you for this?" She quickly comforted her, "Good child, you’ve suffered greatly in this matter. I only hate myself for not being a proper mother-in-law, unable to care for you by your side. Ta and I have spoken several times, worried that the young girls around you might not take good enough care of you. It kept me awake all night with worry. Now that you’re back, stay by E'nie’s side from now on, and E'nie will look after you."
Countless heartfelt words were spoken, each filled with deep affection. Liangshi stepped forward to support Wanwan and his mother, saying, "Don’t stand in the draft. Let’s go inside to talk." He turned and quietly instructed Lan Zhou, "There are Silk-clad Guards sent by the imperial court outside. Go and arrange for them. The manor has enough hands; we don’t need them. Or you can send them to Big Hat Lane."
Lan Zhou had been personally trained by his father in such matters, so a slight hint was all he needed to understand. He cupped his hands respectfully and said, "Yes," then turned his gaze deeply toward Wanwan and added respectfully, "E'nie, please rest. I’ll be back shortly."
His Ama grew impatient and waved him off, leading Wanwan to the Warm Pavilion on the east side.
The Imperial Concubine asked about her time in the capital, expressing pity for her prolonged stay in Beijing, and her dissatisfaction with The Emperor was barely concealed. "Your Highness is too kind-hearted. With your own elder brother, naturally, there’s nothing to say, but I, an old woman, am not pleased. Once a girl is married, she belongs to her husband’s family. No matter how reluctant they are, there’s no reason to keep her from returning. Look at this—separating husband and wife, what’s the point? Forcing her to return just half a year after the wedding and keeping her for so long, three precious years wasted like this, what a pity!"Liangshi, however, did not wish for his mother to speak in such a manner. "What is past should not be mentioned again. Now that she has returned, we must look to the future. Let us consider this as if the grand wedding were only happening now, as if we were just welcoming the Princess Royal into marriage today—wouldn’t it be the same?"
The Imperial Concubine sighed. "It’s not about anything else; I just feel it’s rather unfair to both of you."
Who would dare utter a single word of dissent against what the Emperor had imposed? Unpleasant matters were now in the past, and it was hoped they would never be brought up again. Wanwan, in turn, comforted her, saying, "The Prince has earned the Emperor’s favor for his meritorious service in quelling the unrest. Previously, the Emperor might not have felt at ease letting me come to the Southern Garden alone, but now it seems he trusts the Prince completely. He will no longer insist on my return to the capital."
The Imperial Concubine nodded. "Let us hope so. If there is a next time, I shall go to the capital to seek justice. If I cannot speak with the Emperor, I will turn to the Empress Dowager and ask her to judge our case fairly."
Speaking of the Empress Dowager, Wanwan also felt a deep sense of regret. The Emperor harbored not a trace of motherly affection for her; it was only because his own birth mother had passed away early that she had, by chance, received the title of Empress Dowager. He had even openly ordered the Inner Cabinet to draft a posthumous title, posthumously honoring Consort Xu as Empress Xiaoxiande. This placed the Empress Dowager in an exceedingly awkward position. In her fury, she sealed the gates of the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility, thereafter devoting herself to a vegetarian diet and Buddhist prayers, completely withdrawing from worldly affairs.
The Imperial Concubine chatted with her for a while longer but, fearing she might be tired, urged her to return to the Tower of Profound Grace to rest. Wanwan expressed her thanks and rose to leave. After taking a few steps, she turned back and called out, "E’nie, I recall that during the Prince’s birthday celebration, you mentioned wanting Lan Zhou to be recorded under my name."
Everyone was taken aback. Liangshi frowned and said, "That was merely a jest from before. Why would you take it seriously?"
Wanwan tilted her head, her expression grave. "Whether it was a jest or not, there is no harm in it. I deeply regret not being able to nurture the son I carried. Lan Zhou is a good child, and he seems to be making even greater progress now. If E’nie and the Prince do not object, let us proceed with this. I believe it would be quite fitting."
Her decision, whatever her considerations, gave off a sense of resignation. Liangshi felt uneasy, worried that she might be overthinking, and urged her to reconsider. The Imperial Concubine shared the same sentiment. "You are still young; it won’t be long before you have another child. There is no need to rush into adopting a son now. Let us wait until next year; it will not be too late to discuss it then."
Wanwan could not clearly explain the unease that lingered in her heart. She had lost her child at five months, and it was said that when it was delivered, it had all its limbs, and its features were discernible. That miscarriage had, she felt, damaged her foundation. No matter how well she cared for herself afterward, her body remained weak. Whether she could bear another child, she did not know. Yet she still clung to hope—hope that by adopting Lan Zhou, even if only as a symbolic gesture, she might still have a chance to conceive again.
These thoughts she shared with no one, saying only, "I have already made up my mind. Let it be so. Whether this formal recognition exists or not, he already calls me E’nie... In truth, it is merely a title, nothing of great importance."
But Liangshi understood her. The moment she brought it up, he knew there was something weighing on her heart. She was too delicate, her innermost depths inaccessible to anyone. Even with him, she was not entirely without reservations.He took her hand, drew a breath, and said, "If this will make you happy, then let it be as you wish. After all, with many sons, there is no need for worry. The children in this household are all yours—whether formally acknowledged or not makes little difference."
Only then did she offer a faint smile, allowing Tong Huan to support her as she returned to the Tower of Profound Grace.
The place she had once lived in, left behind for two or three years, remained spotless upon her return. She gently stroked the rosewood writing desk, then the jade paperweight, before pushing open the window to gaze at the scenery outside. Autumn had arrived—the leaves had turned a scorched yellow, clinging precariously to the branches, withering and trembling with each gust of wind.
Tong Huan no longer tried to persuade her to secure her position as the legitimate wife, for all that had happened in the past was clear to everyone. Now, whatever she wished to do, they all let her follow her own will. She had long shed the childishness from when she first married, knowing how to arrange her own life, and every decision she made had its own reasoning.
This news soon reached Lan Zhou's ears. After finishing his affairs outside, he hurried to her. When he arrived, Wanwan was taking her afternoon nap. He waited for a long time in the side hall until she rose, then came in to pay his respects.
"Why has E'nie made this decision? Is it because of the little brother?"
Wanwan did not answer his question directly, only saying, "Didn't you call me E'nie? Now that I'm truly becoming your E'nie, are you unwilling? We are fated, and I like you very much. I am twenty years old, yet still without a child..." She laughed at herself, then straightened her expression and said, "It depends on your wishes. If you are unwilling, I will not force you."
Lan Zhou remained silent, his gaze growing even warmer. After a long while, he took out a paper package from his sleeve, carefully opened it, and presented it with both hands. "This is Harmony Cake, said to be a craft passed down from the Tang Dynasty court. I specially brought it back for E'nie."
The small cake was originally of little value, but the child had kept it tucked in his sleeve—a token of his heartfelt sincerity. The name of the cake was also fitting for the occasion. Though he said nothing, his meaning seemed clear: he was willing. Wanwan picked up a piece and took a bite, deeply touched. This child Lan Zhou would surely be very filial in the future...
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