Wu Lang desperately wanted to do something for the Eldest Princess.
She had treated him so well—not only had she saved his worthless life, but she also rewarded him with food, tended his wounds, and let him live in such a warm and comfortable room. These were things he had never even dared to dream of before.
He had received so much grace from the Eldest Princess, yet he had nothing to repay her with. As long as it could make her happy, he was willing to offer up his lowly body for her to beat, curse, toy with, or amuse herself however she pleased.
That was his only use.
Ever since he could remember, this had been Wu Lang’s daily reality. Because of his ignoble birth, his life in the Wu Family had been worse than that of the lowest house slave. Whenever Wu Hanyu got scolded by Madam Wu or was dragged home from a tavern by Old Master Wu, grabbing him by the ear, he would come to vent his anger on Wu Lang. After being sent to Xue Qingzhi’s side, the beatings became routine. The least bit of displeasure from that pampered Second Princess, and she would take it out on him—until he begged for mercy in a hoarse, pained voice, and only then would she feel satisfied.
“You see This Palace is unhappy, so you should be more obedient and offer yourself up to let This Palace vent her anger.”
He could still remember how Xue Qingzhi had stroked his bruised and purpled cheek back then, looking down at him with contempt, as if he were an ant she could crush underfoot at any moment. “Otherwise, what use are you to This Palace?”
Wu Lang obediently lowered his eyes, waiting as usual to be dragged away and used. But after a long moment, all he heard was the Eldest Princess’s helpless soft rebuke.
“What nonsense are you saying now?”
Xue Yunyi felt utterly exhausted and truly lacked the strength—and the heart—to scold the boy in front of her, who was trying so hard to please her with this absurd request.
Aside from Empress Jiang, she rarely showed her emotions in front of others. But with just that one sentence earlier, Wu Lang had keenly sensed her low spirits.
He observed her expressions with caution, carefully gauged her moods, and then did everything in his power to delight her—even if it meant harming himself.
The boy’s sensitivity was a hundred times greater than normal. It was a sickness, one that might never fully heal in his lifetime.
Xue Yunyi sighed.
It didn’t matter. She would heal him slowly. There was plenty of time; he would get better eventually.
“If you want to make This Palace happy, then take good care of your body,” she said gently. “It’s been several days now, and I still don’t see you putting on any weight. Is the food here not to your taste?”
“N-No, it’s not that.”
The boy’s gaze darted away evasively as he stammered, shaking his head vigorously but refusing to say another word.
Xue Yunyi’s mind was still on that memorial that hadn’t pleased the Emperor, leaving her a bit unsettled. She didn’t press him further and turned to instruct Mo Ying instead. She told her to keep an eye on the dishes from the small kitchen—make sure they were palatable and avoided heavy, greasy flavors.
“Rest well. This Palace will come see you when I have time,” she said finally.
At her words, the boy pressed his lips together, as if summoning great courage. Before Xue Yunyi turned away, he quickly pulled his hand from behind his back and opened his palm in front of her.
“This… for you.”
Xue Yunyi paused, her eyes falling on it.
It was a piece of candy.
Wrapped in thin, crude paper, with the edges pinched a bit wrinkled.
The day before, Zhao Xi had seen Wu Lang struggling to drink the medicinal tonics meant to build up his strength and had casually given it to him to mask the bitterness. He hadn’t been willing to eat it and had hidden it away in secret.
Only then did Wu Lang realize too late that the wound on his palm hadn’t healed yet—it looked rather unsightly. He instinctively wanted to pull his hand back but hesitated, then boldly pushed it forward a little more as a test.
This was the only thing he had that he could give the Eldest Princess.
He was no good with words and didn’t know how to comfort her. He just thought that something sweet might improve her mood. The words reached his lips but died there in timid silence.
With his lowly status, how could he presume to say such things to the Eldest Princess?
Wu Lang hung his head low, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. Suddenly, it hit him how noble the Eldest Princess was. She had halls full of silks and satins, pearls and jade. If she wanted sweets, palace servants would prepare all sorts of exquisite pastries for her. How could something so crude catch her eye?
His slender fingers curled in embarrassment. Wu Lang was about to apologize for his presumption when Xue Yunyi reached out and took the candy.
He froze.
The candy paper was warm, carrying the boy’s body heat. When she unwrapped it, the color suggested it was the pear candy the small kitchen boiled up every day for the palace maids to enjoy as a treat. Xue Yunyi vaguely guessed it must have been shared with Wu Lang by Liu Yin or Zhao Xi. It wasn’t anything precious, yet he had treasured it like this.
She looked up to see the boy hurriedly explaining, “It’s clean…”
“Mm, This Palace knows.”
Her heart instantly melted into a puddle. Xue Yunyi paused, then—right in front of him—popped the overly cloying pear candy into her mouth before asking softly, “Why give this to This Palace?”
Her tone was gentle, coaxing like a patient teacher.
Wu Lang’s tense back slowly relaxed a fraction. He lowered his eyes, his voice very soft and a bit shy. “This slave… this slave has nothing else to give Your Highness.”
“This slave wants Your Highness to be happy.”
Xue Yunyi went still. Her teeth bit down unconsciously, slowly crunching the candy to pieces. After a long moment, when she had swallowed the sweet juice, she came back to herself and curved her eyes at Wu Lang. “It’s very sweet.”
Wu Lang’s heart skipped a beat. When he finally mustered the courage to look up, Xue Yunyi’s wheelchair had already left his cramped little room. It rolled past the stone steps toward the bedchamber.
A trace of loneliness flickered in Wu Lang’s eyes. He loved being with the Eldest Princess, even if it was just for a quarter-hour.
He loved hearing her speak to him so gently, loved being touched by those fragrant, soft hands of hers—whether in a caress or a reprimand. He thought he would like it all.
As long as it was from the Eldest Princess.
The door closed. Then it suddenly swung open again.
The boy, who had curled up in the corner of the bed, lifted his eyes abruptly. Seeing it was Liu Yin, he let his gaze drop in disappointment.
“Here, a reward from the Eldest Princess.” Liu Yin came over and placed a blue-glazed gilded candy box in his arms. She licked her lips enviously. “I hear this is plum candy that only gets served before the Emperor. The Eldest Princess really treats you well.”
The heavy candy box landed in his lap. Wu Lang stared at it in a daze, feeling like none of this was real—like a dream too beautiful to imagine, one he could only have right before death.
Back in her bedchamber, Xue Yunyi instructed Mo Ying to wheel her to the small window. Leaning against the wheelchair, she closed her eyes for a brief rest.
She hadn’t slept until the midnight hour the night before and had risen at dawn to wash and dress. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her.
When she opened her eyes, Mo Ying had thoughtfully brought freshly brewed flower tea. Xue Yunyi took a sip to moisten her throat and tasted the lingering sweetness of that pear candy.
Something made for the servants to enjoy didn’t need to be fancy; the flavor was just barely palatable.
The crisp tea aroma mingled with the cloying sweetness, creating an indescribable taste.
Xue Yunyi set down the teacup, thinking of the boy’s clear black eyes gazing up at her as he offered the candy—so pure, so innocent.
Even she, who was usually so calm and unruffled, couldn’t resist the tremor in her heart at that moment.
Seeing Xue Yunyi lost in thought staring at the teacup, Mo Ying couldn’t help whispering, “Your Highness, stop thinking about that memorial. His Majesty won’t use your plan, but the people of Lang Province are still suffering! If His Majesty doesn’t want you stealing the Second Princess’s thunder, she still has to come up with something worthwhile.”
At that, Mo Ying huffed. “This servant just doesn’t believe the Second Princess can think of anything better.”
Xue Yunyi didn’t respond and simply instructed, “Go grind some ink.”
Perhaps it was because of that candy, but she no longer felt so oppressed and irritable. Her weary body even found some renewed energy.
She had always been fiercely competitive. For over a decade, her studies had been grueling and her martial training arduous, yet she had never complained. Even knowing early on that the Emperor favored her sister, she strove harder and harder, believing that one day her brilliance would pierce his eyes and wake him. No matter how unwilling, he would have to admit aloud that she was the most outstanding.
If the Emperor wasn’t satisfied, she would rewrite it.
If he couldn’t see her worth, she would climb higher—higher still—until the court officials saw it, until all the realm’s people saw it.
She wouldn’t disappoint her mother’s expectations.
Ninghua Palace.
Incense smoke curled lazily, coiling like sinuous water snakes around the red gauze bed curtains.