Youthful Glory

The season finally reached midsummer, and the May sun was particularly scorching. Ming Tan, who feared the heat, spent most of her days in the cool pavilion by the lotus pond, and the Qǐ'ān Hall could not go without ice for even a moment.

Fortunately, it was soon time for the Emperor to move to the Eternal Spring Garden.

The Eternal Spring Garden was the imperial summer retreat, and true to its name, it was as pleasant as spring all year round. Emperor Taizong had once personally designated ten scenic spots within the garden as the "Ten Views of Eternal Spring." When renowned scholars of previous dynasties visited, they composed ten poems praising these views, which later became widely celebrated.

Even with the simplest arrangements, the Emperor's procession was grand and imposing. Jiang Xu, disliking the bustle, waited two days after the imperial move before taking Ming Tan to the garden separately.

Emperor Chengkang had reserved a residence named "Spring Star Pavilion" for Jiang Xu.

Upon arriving outside the pavilion, Ming Tan looked up at the plaque. The calligraphy was sharp and forceful, yet somehow vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t immediately place where the familiarity came from.

She smiled and praised, "'Dark streams flow by flower paths, spring stars adorn the thatched hall.' The name is truly exquisite, and the calligraphy is equally impressive."

Hearing this, Jiang Xu glanced at her.

The attending eunuch leading the way nodded with a smile, chiming in, "His Lordship is highly talented—naturally, the name is excellent, and so is the calligraphy."

Ming Tan’s smile stiffened slightly.

Her husband had chosen this name? And the calligraphy… Oh, now she realized why it had seemed familiar earlier. She had once seen her husband’s writing in the study—just as sharp and forceful as the plaque.

But her original intention had been to subtly flatter the Emperor in front of the eunuch, since His Majesty never forgot to include her husband in any favor…

Jiang Xu seemed to see through her little scheme and said indifferently to the eunuch, "Convey our gratitude to His Majesty on behalf of this prince and his consort."

"Yes."

After the eunuch withdrew, Jiang Xu clasped his hands behind his back and strode ahead. Ming Tan followed quietly behind, glancing around curiously as she asked, "Husband, have you stayed here before? Why is it called 'Spring Star Pavilion'?"

"The night view is quite splendid."

The night view is splendid…? Ming Tan couldn’t help but look up at the sky. If the night sky were clear, dotted with spring stars, and a gentle stream murmured beside the flower path while she played the qin in the pavilion’s outer pavilion, her husband accompanying her with a flute or xiao—the image was undeniably beautiful. Oh, right—did her husband even play the flute or xiao?

She hurried to catch up and ask.

"No, but this prince is skilled with the sword."

Ming Tan: "…"

That really wasn’t necessary.

Seeing her silence, he countered, "Didn’t you once say that playing the qin to accompany sword dancing could also be considered marital harmony?"

"Well, being skilled with the sword and being skilled at sword dancing aren’t quite the same thing, are they?"

She hadn’t forgotten his remarkable feat of once beheading a Lǜ'e plum tree ten zhang away with a single stroke.

Jiang Xu: "…"

The Spring Star Pavilion was located in the northern part of the Eternal Spring Garden, an area typically reserved for imperial relatives.

The western side of the garden housed the residences of the Empress and Consorts. Ming Tan had heard that two days prior, some consorts had quarreled over the quality of their accommodations. At first, she was puzzled—hadn’t only five consorts been brought along? How could there not be enough rooms?

Later, she learned that the Emperor had initially planned to bring only five, but the women of the inner palace were alluring and cunning—today one would charm him with coquetry, tomorrow another would plead pitifully. The Emperor, being sentimental, had doubled the number of accompanying consorts in just half a month.

During her conversation with the Empress in the palace that day, Ming Tan had only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg when it came to harem conflicts. But that glimpse alone was enough to make her keep her distance.She had made up her mind that during her stay in the Eternal Spring Garden, she would absolutely avoid going to the western side if possible.

Two peaceful days passed when Empress Zhang sent someone to invite her to the opera house for a performance, mentioning that the lychees from the southern tribute had arrived and were fresh and delicious.

Ming Tan set aside the miscellaneous book she was reading, thinking that watching an opera while sipping tea and enjoying lychees wouldn’t be a bad way to pass the time. Besides, she had heard that a cooling pavilion had been set up near the opera house, so the heat wouldn’t be an issue.

She didn’t refuse and took care to dress appropriately before leaving at the appointed time.

However, on the way, she happened to encounter the third prince. The young boy was mischievous and, ignoring the admonitions of his nursemaids and maids, insisted on climbing a rockery. The rockery was quite high, and Ming Tan found it rather dangerous, so she patiently coaxed him down.

She had initially thought that if persuasion failed, she would send someone to inform the Empress. Unexpectedly, the little boy, taken by her beauty, actually listened to her. Not only did he obediently climb down, but he also shyly ran up to her, planted a kiss on her cheek, and then scampered away.

Ming Tan was in high spirits and even indulged in a bit of vanity, thinking to herself that she was quite popular with children.

However, this delay meant that by the time she arrived at the opera house, everyone else was already present. She paid her respects to Empress Zhang and explained her tardiness.

Empress Zhang naturally didn’t reprimand her. She was in the midst of selecting operas and, upon seeing Ming Tan, smiled warmly and beckoned her over. “Come, take a look at this playbill. See if there’s anything you’d like to watch.”

The operas Ming Tan had previously enjoyed with Bai Minmin mostly involved romantic trysts and elopements between scholars and beauties, but such performances were strictly forbidden in the palace. So, she chose a conventional, harmonious play instead.

After she made her selection, Empress Zhang handed the playbill to Jia Shuyi for her to choose.

Ming Tan was surprised. In just half a month, Jia Guiren, who originally wasn’t supposed to accompany the imperial entourage, had not only joined the trip but had also been promoted to Jia Shuyi.

She glanced at the radiant Jia Shuyi, who casually skimmed the playbill before suddenly smoothing her hair and saying, “I’ve grown tired of all these performances. How about ‘Mencius’ Mother Moves Three Times’? Can you perform that?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” came the reply.

Jia Shuyi smiled in satisfaction, closed the playbill, and turned to Empress Zhang. “For some reason, ever since I became pregnant with the little prince, I’ve been constantly thinking about the future and how to raise him. When the Emperor visited yesterday, he even joked that with such an impatient mother, the little prince in my belly is bound to be just as hasty.”

So, she was with child. No wonder.

But even the imperial physicians couldn’t determine the baby’s gender yet, and here she was, already insisting it was a prince. Her intentions were rather transparent.

Sure enough, a concubine soon remarked with a laugh, “How does Jia Shuyi know it’s definitely a little prince? What if it’s a princess?”

Jia Shuyi’s expression darkened, but she ignored the comment, instead giving a meaningful glance to a beautifully dressed palace lady beside her.

The lady quickly interjected, “Both princes and princesses are blessings, as they all contribute to the Emperor’s lineage. Besides, being able to conceive is already a great fortune for Jia Shuyi—certainly better than those who can’t even get pregnant.” As she spoke, both Jia Shuyi and the lady glanced pointedly at Lanfei.

Lanfei, dressed in a moon-white palace gown, remained focused on the stage, her expression indifferent.

Though she stayed silent, other concubines who sided with her spoke up in her defense.

Ming Tan peeled lychees with practiced elegance, eating them while listening to the back-and-forth among the concubines. Her face betrayed nothing, but inwardly, she thought the drama unfolding offstage was far more entertaining than the one onstage.To be fair, without any bias, even Ming Tan had to admit that Lanfei deserved the emperor's favor based on today's observations. Her beauty and talents were outstanding, and her composed demeanor stood out even more against the backdrop of noisy women like Jia Shuyi.

During the middle of the opera, Shufei arrived belatedly. It turned out that the fourth princess under her care had been spitting up milk, and she had stayed to tend to the child until she fell asleep before hurrying over.

Empress Zhang naturally didn't blame her and had someone bring over the opera selection list, speaking gently as before: "We saved an opera especially for you. See which one you'd like to choose."

Shufei accepted the list with a smile and perused it for a while. Suddenly, she turned to Lanfei sitting beside her and asked, "Sister, which do you think is better—'The Rain on the Parasol Tree' or 'The Full Moon of Reunion'?"

Lanfei pondered. "'The Rain on the Parasol Tree' is rather sorrowful."

Shufei nodded. "Then let's follow Sister Lanfei's suggestion and choose 'The Full Moon of Reunion.'"

As soon as Shufei finished speaking, Jia Shuyi chuckled meaningfully. "So Your Highness Lanfei prefers this one. Though in this opera, Lady Wang and her husband were betrothed before birth and shared deep affection—truly enviable. I wonder if Princess Consort Dingbei likes this opera?"

Ming Tan: "..."

Couldn't even watch an opera in peace.

"The Full Moon of Reunion" was an opera composed by a renowned troupe from the previous dynasty. It told the story of Lady Wang, whose husband went missing in battle. Unwilling to remarry, she cared for her elderly mother and young child alone until years later, when her husband returned in glory. Lady Wang's perseverance was rewarded, and the couple lived happily ever after.

Jia Shuyi wasn't wrong about the betrothal before birth, but it was only briefly mentioned in the opera. Most people admired Lady Wang for her loyalty and kindness, yet Jia Shuyi deliberately singled out the betrothal—her intention to stir trouble was glaringly obvious.

Lanfei hadn't even considered this angle. Her fanning paused, and she instinctively glanced at Ming Tan.

Others also turned their eyes to Ming Tan. She was the emperor's personally appointed Princess Consort Dingbei, with an illustrious family background. If she took a dislike to Lanfei, there would certainly be quite the spectacle to watch.

But to their disappointment, while Ming Tan enjoyed watching operas, she had no interest in becoming one for others.

"This one is excellent. Lady Wang's unwavering devotion and righteousness, and her husband's loyalty to his country and family—truly admirable. It seems I share the same taste as Your Highness Lanfei." Ming Tan smiled warmly at Lanfei and even raised a glass of lychee wine to her from afar.

Lanfei was momentarily taken aback but nodded in acknowledgment, lifting her sleeve to drink.

Jia Shuyi was left speechless by Ming Tan's effortless deflection, which completely sidestepped the provocation. After a long silence, she couldn't resist sneering, "I never knew the princess consort had such a high tolerance for wine—and an even greater tolerance for other things."

Ming Tan smiled gently, her voice equally soft. "You're fortunate, Lady Jia. My cousin suffered terrible morning sickness when she was with child—three sentences in, and she'd feel nauseous."

The implication was clear: Unlike you, who can’t stop running your mouth even while pregnant.

"By the way, do you read daily, Lady Jia? I've heard that whatever a mother reads or says during pregnancy, the child will imitate after birth."

The subtext was equally clear: Stop spreading gossip and save some virtue for your unborn child.

Jia Shuyi clearly understood, her expression turning sour.She had initially been somewhat wary of Ming Tan's status, but having been raised in pampered luxury and never suffering any grievances even after entering the palace—not yet tempered by the ruthless struggles of the harem—her current pregnancy with the imperial heir made her speak with unwarranted boldness.

"Consort has never been with child, yet seems to know so much about it. Come to think of it, Prince Dingbei's Manor has yet to produce an heir. The Consort really ought to hurry. If you find yourself incapable, perhaps you should consider sharing the burden. After all, Prince Dingbei is our Great Xian's God of War—the matter of heirs is of utmost importance."

Though Lady Jiashu spoke without thinking, her words struck precisely at Ming Tan's vulnerability. Just as Ming Tan was about to respond, two tall figures unexpectedly entered the cool chamber.

Jiang Xu glanced at Lady Jiashu before settling his gaze on Ming Tan, whose cheeks were flushed from secretly drinking lychee wine. His voice was icy, as if steeped in glacial waters for too long, carrying an air of indifference: "This subject was unaware that a mere Lady of Grace could dictate affairs for Prince Dingbei's Manor."

Author's note: "Dark waters flow past flower-lined paths, spring stars crown the thatched hall." —Du Fu, "Night Banquet at the Zuo Family Villa"