“Of course.” Xue Yunyi curved her lips into a smile. “Tomorrow, This Palace will invite Mr. Yuan over again. At that time, you must not act as you did today. Ah Lang, do you know what to do?”
Wu Lang hesitated for a moment, recalling her earlier reprimand, and answered softly, “This… this slave should pay respects to Mr. Yuan.”
Xue Yunyi was satisfied. She wiped the sugar stains from his face and ordered him to stay, sharing some late-night snacks with her.
Flattered and surprised, Wu Lang thanked her for the grace. Naturally, he did not dare to sit at the same table as the Eldest Princess. Instead, he cradled the bowl of soup she had granted him and sipped at it slowly from his spot curled up beside her.
Once his belly was full and warm, he went as usual to the washroom for his medicinal bath. When he emerged, he saw candlelight flickering behind the screen, accompanied by the faint sound of chiseling. He knew Xue Yunyi was personally carving that piece of Xiuyan White Jade.
His eyes darkened slightly. From behind the screen, he bowed low toward Xue Yunyi and took his leave in a soft voice.
A trace of the pear’s fresh sweetness still lingered on his lips. Wu Lang was reluctant to lick it away, letting it dry into a messy, crystalline sheen. Back in his side room, he lit a single candle and stared at the pitifully small amount of incense powder on the little table, lost in thought for a long while.
Over the past few days, he had asked Liu Yin to search the palace far and wide for Fairy Dream incense. It had taken considerable effort to obtain even this much, yet it wouldn’t last half an hour.
The Eldest Princess liked the scent so much, but he couldn’t even manage such a simple thing.
Wu Lang pressed his lips together, feeling utterly useless once more.
The Eldest Princess treated him so well, yet he couldn’t help her with anything. As for Madam Wu’s poison formula, he had some leads, but the Golden Luo Leaf ingredient was one he had never studied before. He didn’t dare to act rashly and could only experiment with substitutes of similar properties.
If only he could return to Wu Mansion and fetch some Golden Luo Leaf from Madam Wu’s Secret Garden…
The thought made Wu Lang shiver involuntarily. He never wanted to set foot in that place again.
He sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the thin layer of powder in the copper bowl. His mind turned to how he should beg forgiveness tomorrow for failing the task the Eldest Princess had entrusted to him.
After a long while, he finally undressed and lay down, tossing and turning restlessly.
Summer was truly approaching; the night felt oppressively stuffy. Wu Lang lay with his eyes closed in silence for a long time before finally sitting up and pushing open the tightly shut window.
In the distance, several hanging palace lanterns swayed gently, casting dim yellow light and clear, silent shadows.
Wu Lang’s breath caught.
Behind the side room lay a barren garden that had been empty yesterday. A light rain had fallen that morning, and now, somehow, it was filled with Fairy Dream flowers. Clusters of white and purple petals pressed tightly together, stretching as far as the eye could see, blanketing everything. In the glow of the moonlight, it resembled a fairy realm from a dream.
Two night-watch palace maids carried lanterns as they walked along a path through the flowers. The older one hurriedly pulled the other back, whispering a reminder, “Watch your step. These flowers were personally planted by Her Highness. If you trample any, you’ll be punished.”
“Got it. They’re just wildflowers—why make such a fuss?” the younger maid grumbled under her breath, though her feet moved carefully all the same.
Their voices faded as they walked away.
Wu Lang stared blankly at the garden full of flowers, his nose stinging with emotion. He remained speechless for a long time.
He thought to himself that he was indeed very stupid.
Only now did he finally understand. The Eldest Princess had done it on purpose—purposely telling him she liked the scent, purposely asking him to make more.
Fairy Dream was such a lowly, short-lived plant; it wasn’t permitted in the palace.
So she had planted a whole garden herself.
She had only wanted him to know that he was a useful person.
“Master…”
In the quiet stillness, the youth leaned against the window, gazing in a daze as he murmured softly.
The next day.
Xue Yunyi opened her eyes to find the inner chamber filled with a familiar, ethereal fragrance. She rose and draped a robe over her shoulders, seeing Mo Ying bending down to add a spoonful of fresh incense to the censer. She couldn’t help asking, “What incense is that today?”
“In reply to Your Highness, Wu Lang sent it over early this morning. This servant doesn’t know its name, but it certainly smells wonderful.” Mo Ying handed her the bamboo box containing the incense powder. “See, he made quite a lot.”
So it was incense made by Ah Lang.
Xue Yunyi’s lips curved slightly. Casually, she said, “From now on, use only this for all the incense.”
“Yes.”
Though Mo Ying knew little about incense, she could tell this batch was ground extremely finely, with a lingering scent. It had been burning for over an hour, and by the time Xue Yunyi stepped out, her robes carried the pleasant floral and herbal aroma.
In Azure Serenity Pavilion, Yuan Xiubai had been waiting for some time. He had first gone to see the Emperor and reported on the two princesses’ lessons from the day before, then come here.
Xue Yunyi nodded to him and said as usual, “Greetings, Master.”
Yuan Xiubai hurriedly cupped his hands in return and invited her to take her seat.
Xue Qingzhi chewed on her brush handle, gazing absentmindedly out the window. When Xue Yunyi blocked her view, she shifted irritably to the side and continued peering outside.
She was waiting for her mother consort to arrive.
Unconcerned, Xue Yunyi calmly flipped open the book of historical essays she had long since memorized and skimmed through it idly.
Yuan Xiubai had only lectured on two passages of ancient history when a familiar announcement came from outside: “Noble Consort has arrived!”
Xue Qingzhi jumped up joyfully, staring eagerly at the door. With nothing better to do, Xue Yunyi paused her page-turning and lifted her gaze to look.
Consort Jiang stood at the doorway speaking with Yuan Xiubai, just as she had the day before.
She first smiled and exempted him from formalities, then asked, “Master, why aren’t you wearing the robe This Palace gave you?”
Yuan Xiubai’s heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained respectful. “The gift from Your Ladyship is far too precious. This Yuan fears that if it got soiled while worn, it would be disrespectful to Your Ladyship.”
The consort said offhandedly, “This Palace thought perhaps the size didn’t fit.”
Caiqiu, standing nearby, paled in shock upon hearing this. She desperately signaled to Consort Jiang with her eyes, but the consort merely gazed quietly at the man before her, a faint air of death in her eyes.
Xue Qingzhi grew frantic inside the room. Consort Jiang was too focused on chatting with that penniless scholar to spare her even a glance. Unable to bear it, she called out loudly, “Mother Consort!”
Only then did the consort glance perfunctorily her way.
“How were Qingzhi’s lessons yesterday?”
Yuan Xiubai lowered his head. “The Second Princess… is very diligent. Given time, she will surely achieve great things.”
Diligent.
That was a polite way of saying stupid.
The consort’s lips curved coldly.
This failing had come from her emperor father, not her. Back in Lang Province, she had been renowned as a talented beauty for miles around.
She was just thinking of the emperor when Li Fuzhong’s shrill voice rang out from behind: “His Majesty has arrived!”
Consort Jiang froze for an instant before turning somewhat stiffly to curtsy to the emperor.
“May Your Majesty be in good health.”
The emperor had come from morning court and reviewed a few memorials in the Imperial Study. With Xue Qingzhi on his mind, he had decided to visit Azure Serenity Pavilion to check on her studies. He hadn’t expected to encounter Consort Jiang here and felt a moment of surprise. He personally helped the consort to her feet before asking with concern, “Your health isn’t good—you should rest more. What brings you here so early in the morning?”
Consort Jiang replied calmly, “In reply to Your Majesty, this consort was thinking of family matters back in Lang Province and wished to ask Master Yuan a few questions.”
Caiqiu closed her eyes, thinking that if her lady truly wished to die, she shouldn’t drag her down with her. Her ladyship need only have said she came out of concern for the Second Princess’s studies, and the emperor would harbor no suspicions. Yet she had to bring up Lang Province—and call for “Master Yuan” right in front of His Majesty.
Fortunately, the emperor didn’t dwell on it. He merely sighed. “My beloved consort misses her homeland, but you must also take care of your health. This place is too far from Qixia Palace—don’t come again. Another day, I’ll have Xiubai come to the Imperial Study. Ask him whatever you like.”
“Yes. This consort thanks Your Majesty for your great kindness.” Consort Jiang lowered her eyes.
The emperor gazed at the consort before him. Today, she wore an unusually soft pale goose-yellow gauze gown, her face lightly powdered—exquisitely beautiful. Since bringing her into the palace, she had rarely worn such colors.
Unwittingly, the emperor became entranced, taking the consort’s hand in his. He completely forgot why he had come, staring at her in a daze for a long time before ordering Li Fuzhong to prepare the procession to Qixia Palace.
Xue Yunyi had intended to have Mo Ying wheel her out to pay respects to the emperor, but now it seemed unnecessary.
Yet Yuan Xiubai still stood at the door, staring in a daze at the slender figure cradled in the emperor’s embrace for a long while.
Just one day short. Just one day short, and Ah Ying would have been his wife. He and Ah Ying had grown up together; by age ten, he had known he would marry her one day.
But how could he compete with the emperor?
A decree arrived at Jiang Mansion, and everyone said the Jiang family’s young miss had attained boundless fortune, catching the emperor’s eye and entering the palace to enjoy glory. Only he knew that on their wedding night, Ah Ying had donned her bridal gown and wept in his arms until she fainted several times, repeating over and over, “Brother Xiubai, I can’t marry you after all.”
That was the first time he had tasted the agony of a heart twisted like a knife.
Later, he studied day and night, scraped together travel funds, and headed to the capital for the exams. He thought that even being near her would be enough.
He still remembered that day when the emperor summoned the new top scholar to the Imperial Study for an audience. As the curtain lifted, he caught sight from afar of his long-cherished Ah Ying nestled in the emperor’s lap, her hair styled as a married woman’s. Li Fuzhong coughed lightly to warn him: that was the Noble Consort currently most favored by His Majesty—don’t stare, or you’d lose your eyeballs.
He sat quietly in his quarters, pondering for three days and nights. In the end, he chose to forgo the riches within easy reach, returned to Lang Province, and managed trifles for her father while looking after her family’s sisters.
Who would have thought that an imperial decree would arrive, forcing him to pack his bags and step once more into the imperial city?
His Ah Ying had brows as delicate as a painting, her charm even more radiant than before. It seemed the royal grace truly nurtured people—girls raised in their barren, drought-stricken lands could blossom into such ethereal beauties.
The Second Princess—
Yuan Xiubai finally turned his face back, his gaze settling inside the room.
That was Ah Ying and the Emperor’s child.
He had heard that the Emperor doted on the Second Princess endlessly, no doubt because of Ah Ying.
Yet in his eyes, this Second Princess’s aptitude was utterly mediocre. The Eldest Princess, on the other hand, was as refined as an orchid, wise beyond her years.
Only then did Yuan Xiubai notice that Xue Yunyi’s gaze had lingered on his face for quite some time. He hurriedly averted his eyes and stepped forward as if nothing were amiss, pretending to check her recent dictation.
Xue Yunyi paused for a moment before finally speaking. “Sir, this place is not like Lang Province.”
This was the Capital City, right under the Emperor’s feet. Though he had only been her tutor for a single day, Xue Yunyi could not bear to see him lose his life.
Yuan Xiubai’s heart jolted in shock. In the presence of Consort Jiang, he had been cautious in every word and deed, certain that no flaw could be found in his conduct—yet Xue Yunyi had seen through his secrets long ago.
At a loss for words, cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He forced himself to remain calm and continued grading Xue Qingzhi’s dictation.
Xue Qingzhi had just suffered Consort Jiang’s cold shoulder, and the Emperor had not even glanced her way. Her heart was already simmering with resentment. Now, hearing Xue Yunyi exchange those profoundly meaningful words with Yuan Xiubai—words she alone seemed not to grasp—only stoked her anger further.
Xue Qingzhi sniffed, catching a faint floral herbal scent on Xue Yunyi, utterly different from her usual fragrance. At last, she found her opening and sneered, “What perfume is Imperial Sister wearing today? It smells like dirt. If Imperial Sister can’t afford fine scents, Little Sister can send some over.”
Xue Yunyi smiled faintly. “Little Sister doesn’t appreciate fine perfumes, so no need to trouble yourself. This fragrance was made by Ah Lang himself. This Palace likes it very much.”
Xue Qingzhi froze, taking a long moment to realize that the “Ah Lang” she meant was that lowly bastard Wu Lang.
He had actually made perfume by hand and given it to her Imperial Sister.
She had spent so much time in Ninghua Palace, yet he had never sent her so much as a trinket. He had so many ways to seduce people—why had he never used them on her?
Xue Qingzhi clenched her fists, grinding her teeth as she glared at the serene, unruffled expression on Xue Yunyi’s face. Fine, let her Imperial Sister gloat for a few more days.
What belonged to her, she would soon seize back.
Next month marked Empress Jiang’s birthday. In years past, Xue Yunyi would leave the palace with Empress Jiang each time to offer incense and prayers at Kaiyuan Temple.
Now, with the Emperor publicly claiming that the Empress was gravely ill and recuperating in Phoenix Peace Palace—and Xue Yunyi ever the picture of filial piety—even for appearances’ sake, the Emperor would allow her to visit the temple as usual to pray for the Empress’s recovery and dispel disasters.
If her guess was right, Xue Yunyi would be away from Azure Cypress Palace for three days.
Xue Qingzhi smiled slowly.
She could hardly wait for that day—
Her little slave would soon meet her again.
At midday, Xue Yunyi chatted idly with Yuan Xiubai all the way out of Azure Serenity Pavilion.
Neither mentioned what had transpired earlier, as if by mutual, unspoken agreement.
Yuan Xiubai had duties to attend to that day, so Xue Yunyi did not invite him back to Azure Cypress Palace for further studies. They parted at the palace gates.
Mo Ying wheeled her into the bedchamber. Xue Yunyi instinctively glanced toward the screen but saw no sign of Wu Lang. After looking around the hall, she spotted him in the compartment where she stored her medicinal herbs, intently fiddling with something.
He was so absorbed that, for the first time, he failed to hear the wheelchair’s approach and rise to greet her.
Xue Yunyi smiled, unwilling to disturb him. She signaled Mo Ying to tread lightly and had her wheeled back to the desk.
She was glad to see Wu Lang occupied with his own pursuits.
Whether for the sake of her legs or something else.
He should have grown into a fine man—
If not for the Wu Family. If not for Xue Qingzhi.
Xue Yunyi propped her chin on the desk, tilting her head in thought.
Her Ah Lang would surely have been a youth of gentle elegance and impeccable poise, peerlessly handsome, radiant as jade.
Lost in her reverie, it took her a long while to gather her thoughts. She picked up the whetstone nearby and resumed her work.
She had always enjoyed carving small jade trinkets herself. A Peace Buckle was hardly beyond her skill; it simply required time and effort.
In the compartment.
Since Xue Yunyi had left early that morning, Wu Lang had been searching for the herbs he needed. Unwittingly, two or three hours had passed.
He wanted to become someone useful to the Eldest Princess. He did not want to disappoint her.
Rubbing his sore neck, he looked up and realized it was already midday—the time when the Eldest Princess should have returned. Wu Lang hurried toward the inner chamber, hearing the familiar sound of chiseling from afar.
His steps slowed involuntarily.
The Eldest Princess had poured so much effort into that Peace Buckle. Why not have a craftsman polish it? At this rate, her hands would be callused by the time it was done.
His heart ached, mingled with an indescribable tangle of other emotions.
In the end, he bowed his head and approached the desk obediently, kneeling before Xue Yunyi in salute.
“This slave greets the Mistress. This slave failed to welcome the Mistress in time. May the Mistress forgive this one.”
Having learned from yesterday’s lesson, he knew Xue Yunyi disliked hearing him beg for punishment, so he refrained from such words.
“Ah Lang, you’ve come at just the right time. Come help This Palace decide which of these cords looks better.”
Xue Yunyi picked up two finished cords from the desk—one the color of cinnabar red, the other deep as ink.
Wu Lang pressed his lips together, his eyes darkening.
Something the Eldest Princess was giving to her beloved… and she wanted him to choose?
The youth stared at the cords dangling from her hand, swaying before his eyes. From some unknown wellspring of courage, a wildly irreverent thought bubbled up.
Could he pick the ugly one?