Wei Shufen's mind was in turmoil, with various thoughts swirling incessantly before her eyes. Li Yuangui's stoic rejection of marriage, Yang Xinzhi's strange address of "dear mother," Chai Yingluo's silence after returning home from the palace, Yang Bu-yao's postpartum illness—all these required her to ponder carefully in quiet solitude or to inquire directly from those involved. But she had been dragged into the carriage by the Guiyang Princess, and with two women sharing the ride to the Temple of Compassionate Harmony, the fifth aunt Chai Yingluo would hardly give her any peace to sort through her thoughts.
The fifth princess, adorned with jewels and wearing a lavish brocade short-sleeved shirt, looked even more plump and cumbersome. Though the carriage was spacious, Wei Shufen found herself pressed against the oiled wall, assaulted by waves of strong perfume mixed with sweat from the middle-aged woman before her. She felt thoroughly drenched in the scent before even halfway through the journey. The lips painted bright red with rouge also flapped incessantly, most of the words entering one ear and exiting the other without leaving a trace.
The fifth princess knew of Wei Shufen's background and seemed aware of her recent frequent movements between the palace and temples, including her knowledge of Yang Bu-yao's childbirth. Deliberately avoiding any mention of the newborn's father, the princess rambled on with a basketful of idle chatter. It wasn’t until she repeatedly brought up "General Cheng" that Wei Shufen's attention snapped back to listen.
"General Cheng has settled on a new bride?"
"Hahahaha, exactly! General Cheng is as decisive in marriage as he is in battle, isn’t he?"
Cheng Yaojin truly lived up to his reputation as a renowned general—even in marriage, he moved like a military campaign. "Congratulations to General Cheng then. Who is the lucky lady this time?"
"What lady? More like an old lady, and one everyone knows well!" The fifth princess clapped her hands and laughed uproariously. "General Cheng is remarrying—taking the matchmaker Aunt Cui as his new wife, the Duchess of Su!"
Wei Shufen was startled at first, then burst into laughter herself. This was joyous news worth celebrating and spreading far and wide.
According to the fifth princess, the gossip circulating among the imperial relatives and noble households was as follows: After breaking off the engagement with the Wei family, General Cheng invited Aunt Cui to his residence, still eager to find a noble-born wife who could manage his household. Having received several matchmaking fees from the Cheng family before, Aunt Cui was more than happy to offer suggestions. The two hit it off so well that they removed the screen separating them, sharing wine across the table. As the night wore on and the drinks warmed their ears, they found each other increasingly agreeable. General Cheng slapped his thigh and proposed on the spot, sealing the deal that very night.
This match, Wei Shufen thought amid her uncontrollable giggles in the carriage, was actually quite fitting.
Cheng Yaojin, a native of Dong'e in Shandong, valued lineage as much as her own father. Aunt Cui hailed from the Boling Cui clan, one of the most prestigious eastern families of the time. Though her reputation had suffered from years of matchmaking among Chang'an's elite, Cheng Yaojin's own standing wasn’t much better—before his rise to power, he had been nothing more than a poor soldier, climbing his way up through sheer battlefield valor under the Son of Heaven.The Cheng household was filled with numerous concubines and a houseful of descendants. Bringing in a young, inexperienced girl as the mistress would surely lead to chaos and infighting. Aunt Cui, on the other hand, was accustomed to moving among noble households, well-traveled and knowledgeable, her skills in this regard far surpassing Wei Shufen's. She was older and likely past childbearing age, but Cheng Yaojin had no shortage of heirs. Having fewer young children from a subsequent marriage would be no loss. The children from Aunt Cui's previous marriage could also rely on General Cheng, their stepfather, for care. It was truly a perfect match that satisfied all parties.
Once the national mourning period for the Supreme Emperor ended and the Cheng family welcomed Aunt Cui into their home, Wei Shufen felt she should visit to offer congratulations and gifts.
How wonderful it would be if she could go with... him.
But she shouldn’t dwell on it. By then, that person would probably already be in Gaochang, having become the consort of a great Western Region kingdom, fulfilling his lifelong ambitions. As for herself... she would spend her life with only books and a lamp for company.
The Temple of Compassionate Harmony wasn’t far from the Fragrant Forest Gate, and Wei Shufen was quite familiar with the route. Alighting from the carriage at the gate, the group walked toward the secluded residence where Yang Buyao lived. Following behind the Fifth Princess, Wei Shufen glanced back and saw Yang Xinzhi catching up, his face filled with anxiety. Tall and long-legged, Yang Xinzhi could easily have overtaken his stepmother, the Fifth Princess, but he hesitated, not daring to breach etiquette, anxiously wringing his hands as he walked.
At the entrance to the secluded residence, a dignified middle-aged man with refined features stepped forward, first cupping his hands toward the Guiyang Princess and saying, "Thank you for your trouble." The Fifth Princess didn’t return the gesture and went straight to the point: "Yingniang isn’t at the Purple Void Monastery—she’s returned to her family home. I feared it would take too long, so I invited the young lady from the Wei family, the eldest daughter of Imperial Secretary Wei. You’re familiar with her father, so she’s no stranger."
From the man’s appearance, Wei Shufen guessed he was Yang Shidao, the Central Secretariat Director and Fifth Princess’s consort, as well as Yang Xinzhi’s father. She hurriedly bowed in the manner of a junior. After exchanging pleasantries and completing the formalities, Yang Xinzhi finally stepped forward to kneel and kowtow.
Yang Shidao seemed to notice his tall, burly son for the first time and frowned. "When did you return to Chang’an? What are you doing here—"
He didn’t finish the question, as if suddenly remembering something. He paused, then looked up at his wife, the Guiyang Princess. The Fifth Princess had already turned away, arms folded, adopting a detached stance.
"Father," Yang Xinzhi, still kneeling on the ground, raised his head, his plump face displaying a resolute expression Wei Shufen had never seen before. "I heard my mother was unwell, so I came to pay my respects to my birth mother."
Yang Shidao looked startled, opening his mouth but failing to respond. He turned to glance at the Fifth Princess again. The Fifth Princess let out a cold laugh, flicked her shawl, and waddled away toward the nunnery’s main gate without another word.
Just what was going on with this family?
Did Yang Xinzhi’s words mean he was openly acknowledging himself as Yang Buyao’s son? The son of the former Prince Qi, Li Yuanji? Nine years ago, he had escaped the Emperor’s purge of his father and brothers—and now he was declaring himself the heir of the Prince of Hailing? How would his uncle, the Emperor, deal with him?
Wei Shufen was utterly bewildered, filled with endless doubts, both shocked and frightened. Yang Shidao stared at Yang Xinzhi for a long moment but said nothing, simply turning to lead the way into the inner chambers of the secluded residence.The inner chamber was filled with the heavy scent of medicine. Not far from the entrance, a silver teapot sat atop a red clay stove, its black soup boiling inside. A little girl with triple hair buns crouched by the stove, wiping her tears as she tended to the medicine. Wei Shufen vaguely recognized her face—she seemed to be either the fourth or sixth daughter of Li Yuan-ji, born to Yang Bu-yao.
Inside the bedroom, there was another young girl and two or three serving maids. Yang Bu-yao’s dark hair was strewn across the pillow, her jade-like face deathly pale as she lay beneath a thin summer quilt. A middle-aged serving nun, her hands trembling, spoon-fed her broth. The baby boy she had just given birth to was nowhere to be seen, likely taken away by someone.
"A Niang!"
Yang Xinzhi suddenly pushed past his father and rushed to the bedside, dropping to his knees.
"You... ah, why have you come..."
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