Cicadas droned on without cease. Cui Cheng sat atop a massive tree far from the edge of the Primordial Pool, his mind endlessly replaying the conversation he’d just had with his sister.
In truth, as far back as three weeks ago, a vague doubt had begun to stir in his heart.
He had to admit that his position in the Feilin Army had benefited greatly from his sister’s status. Assignments that took him away from the capital never fell to him.
But this time, he had been suddenly summoned to inspect the procession escorting His Majesty on his journey to the Cuiwei Traveling Palace. He had to leave at first light. Gazing at his wife’s sleeping face, he hesitated for a moment but decided not to wake her.
They would reunite at the palace in half a month anyway.
Yet he had heard that His Majesty’s entourage had already arrived at the palace, while his patrol team remained out on the roads.
A martial artist needed keen senses, and Cui Cheng could even feel two taciturn soldiers watching his every move.
But even if he missed his wife terribly, he could not defy orders and sneak off to the palace. Why was anyone watching him? Last night, upon arriving at the Cui Family Separate Estate, he had run into his eldest sister-in-law right at the gate. Her tone had made it clear she was fishing for information as she asked why he had divorced.
Divorced?
Cui Cheng had stared at her in disbelief. How could he possibly divorce Rongrong? He knew she had never gotten along with Rongrong, so he ignored her and went straight to pay respects to his father.
But his father had mentioned the divorce too. Cui Cheng was stunned, rooted to the spot for a long while before he managed to ask why.
Why had they forced a divorce while he was away from home?
Duke Qiao had calmly given him two reasons. First, their fates were incompatible. Second, after two years of marriage, the Lu Clan woman had yet to conceive.
But before their betrothal, high monks had examined their birth charts and declared them a perfect match, a golden boy and jade girl. Where was this talk of incompatibility?
As for the lack of children, it was clearly because his mother had instructed him, after the Previous Emperor’s passing, to wait about a year out of respect for the imperial family—especially since his brother-in-law, the Previous Emperor, had only just died.
Cui Cheng refused to believe it. He raised his voice and argued with Duke Qiao. But his father could be as unmoved as a monk deep in meditation when he chose not to speak on a matter. No matter how Cui Cheng raged, questioned, or smashed things, his father merely said sternly in the end, “The matter is settled. Your mother and sister will arrange a new marriage for you. Stop this nonsense.”
He hadn’t slept a wink all night. At dawn, he pulled strings to enter the palace. It wasn’t until afternoon that he was allowed through, heading straight for Empress Dowager Cui’s Changming Hall.
Once led into the bedchamber and the palace servants had withdrawn, he gave a hasty bow and demanded urgently, “Sister, where is Rongrong? Is she with you?”
Empress Dowager Cui did not answer. Instead, she scolded, “She is no longer your wife. You cannot call her that anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” Cui Cheng felt on the verge of madness. It was as if his family had banded together to toy with him. But marriage was no joking matter!
“Why don’t I know anything about a divorce? She is my wife!” he challenged.
Empress Dowager Cui had known he would come questioning her sooner or later. She pulled a letter from beside her and said, “From Mother, for you.”
Puzzled, he asked, “Did Mother write it in the capital and prepare it for me?”
Seeing his sister nod, Cui Cheng opened the letter, scanned it once quickly, then read it carefully again.
Clutching the paper, he declared categorically, “Impossible. This Master Fahui claims that being with Rongrong would harm Mother’s health, but Mother’s condition hasn’t worsened since our marriage. It must be some charlatan’s nonsense!”
“How can you divorce me and Rongrong over something so absurd? Besides, our birth charts were checked before the betrothal!” He looked at the weary Empress Dowager Cui, frantic with urgency. “Sister, say something! You have to help me!”
Empress Dowager Cui’s voice turned icy. “Cui Cheng, are you determined to be unfilial?”
To address him by his full name was a grave matter. Cui Cheng froze, then hurried to say, “How could I dare? But Mother’s health truly hasn’t deteriorated. What does that have to do with Rongrong?”
“But it hasn’t improved either.”
At those words, Cui Cheng’s expression grew grave. “Sister, you can’t blame this on Rongrong.”
“Is she in the palace? I want to see her.” When his sister remained silent, unease stirred in Cui Cheng’s heart. “Have you sent her back to the capital?”
Empress Dowager Cui rubbed her temples. “She is no longer your wife, Sixth Brother. We’ve told everyone outside it was a matter of incompatible temperaments. Don’t stir up trouble. Let it pass like this—for both your sakes.”
He paced back and forth before Empress Dowager Cui, his mind a blank void. He simply could not fathom that he and Yirong had already divorced.
“Sister, help me secure an assignment away from the capital. If we’re not in the city with Mother, that should be fine, right?” He stopped, gazing at her earnestly, hoping she would help him this once.
Empress Dowager Cui seemed about to speak but held back. In the end, she only said, “Stop this nonsense.”
“Then tell me, where is she?”
Their stubborn insistence in pressing her was exactly the same. A flicker of uncertainty passed through Empress Dowager Cui’s mind—had she done wrong in this?—before she sighed heavily and came back to herself. “Yirong agreed to the divorce. Don’t entangle her further.”
“I don’t agree!”
Cui Cheng met his weary sister’s eyes for a moment. He wasn’t a fool; he quickly sensed something off. “Something else happened, didn’t it? If it were truly about our fates, why not divorce in the capital? Why wait until I was away? Did you force her?”
At that, Empress Dowager Cui rebuked him. “Cui Cheng, who do you think you’re speaking to?”
“What is really going on?!” He flung back his robe and knelt. “Sister, I beg you—tell me what happened. Where is Rongrong?”
Empress Dowager Cui pointed to the letter on the table. “Do you think your father, mother, and I would all deceive you? Would Mother have foreseen trouble and written this letter in the capital?”
He still refused to believe it. Even if… even if his father and sister had pressured Yirong into it, how could she truly agree?
Beneath his mother’s letter lay the divorce papers, bearing both their names.
He tore them.
Cui Cheng felt as if plunged into a nightmare.
No matter how he shouted and raged, or knelt and begged, his sister the Empress Dowager would not budge. He left Changming Hall in a daze, still refusing to accept their words.
It was as if his closest family had donned demonic masks to deceive him. Such a thing could not possibly happen!
He forced his steps to remain steady, inquiring of every palace servant he passed. Only after several did he learn that his wife resided in the Landscape Serenity Mirror. When he rushed there, he found it guarded from afar. Even invoking his sister’s name did no good.
His world shattered.
Cui Cheng wandered aimlessly through the palace, eventually drifting to a spot distant from the Primordial Pool. As he had in the past when his mood soured, he climbed a tall tree and gazed blankly into the distance.
He recalled the first time he met Rongrong. He had been sitting in a tree then too, utterly reluctant to go view the prospective bride. He had been too lazy even to dismount when he arrived. But then he saw an unparalleled beauty by the pool, undoing her hair, occasionally pursing her lips or furrowing her brow—vibrant and alive.
Just now, his sister had mentioned Eldest Miss Qiao, Yirong’s eldest cousin. Her betrothals had met with one mishap after another, and she remained unmarried. In a few days, they would inquire if the Qiao Family was willing to try again.
The thought made him nauseous. He had only just been forced into divorce, and already his family was planning his next match.
Where on earth was Rongrong?
Cui Cheng stared at the distant lake and mountains, torn between rage and sorrow, at a loss for what to do. Rongrong must have come with the Cui Family members. Since she was in the palace, and the women’s quarters were off-limits to outsiders, how could he see her? How could he even send her a message?
What was all this about?
A small boat drifted across the Primordial Pool. Amid the trees shading the bank, Cui Cheng glimpsed a woman leaning against a man, his hand on her shoulder. One of her feet was raised, and in the center of her pinkish-purple embroidered shoe with a plum blossom pattern dangled a pearl.
In the palace’s Primordial Pool, the only men who could enjoy such companionship with a beauty were the Emperor or Prince Ning, Cui Cheng thought indifferently.
The boat soon vanished from sight. The man had seemed to be His Majesty; he had never gotten a clear look at the woman’s face.
He sat motionless for a long time, until the sunset glow tinged the sky.
Rongrong’s heart must ache just as much. And she was all alone! The thought nearly made Cui Cheng tumble from the branch.
He simply jumped down and walked forward some thirty paces before Imperial Guards emerged from the shadows to bar his way.
So the man had indeed been His Majesty.
Cui Cheng turned back, intending to try his luck again at her residence. Perhaps she would step out.
If worst came to worst, he would have to seek an audience with His Majesty and beg for justice!
His mood was low, his pace slow. The sun dipped toward the west, the sky ablaze like fire. As he walked, Cui Cheng halted abruptly. By a rose-covered wall not far off, he saw his two younger sisters speaking with Yirong.
The three had evidently met by chance; their profiles showed clear discomfort. Her cheeks were flushed, as if she had been out walking for half the day. Cui Cheng drank in the sight of his long-unseen wife, his eyes tracing her from head to toe, greedy for every inch.
Suddenly, his gaze froze, transfixed.
Her skirt hem was muddied, obscuring most of her shoe—but right in the center gleamed a pearl, beside a plum blossom pattern…
Yirong had insisted on not traveling with the Emperor. Her heart was full of anxiety, so troubled she wished to see no one. Walking by the shimmering Primordial Pool, she found even death eluded her.
The sprawling Imperial Retreat Palace offered countless places to go, but Yirong had no desire to wander anywhere. Still, she couldn’t just stand there frozen in place. She roamed aimlessly for about fifteen minutes before encountering the Cui Family’s Second Miss and Third Lady.
Once, the three of them had been so close. Now, the atmosphere between them was just as painfully awkward.
Yirong had no idea what excuse the Cui Family had fed these two young and innocent girls. Officially, it was a clash of temperaments, but they could hardly believe that. She loathed Empress Dowager Cui and Duke Qiao and his wife, yet she had no intention of taking her anger out on these two girls.
Even so, she had little interest in saying more. She merely offered perfunctory agreement to the girls’ stiff words—that she should take care of her health, and that they were still family if any difficulties arose.
After a short while, the discomfort became unbearable for everyone. A sharp pang of bitterness suddenly welled up in Yirong’s heart. The days of chatting and laughing together over drinks were still vivid in her mind, yet from here on out, they would be strangers.
She wanted no more of it and was about to take her leave when she suddenly spotted her estranged ex-husband standing not far away.
His face was ashen. With large strides, he approached her.