Ji Lan pursed her lips, “We still need to outshine her.”
Han Yan shrugged, appearing indifferent. When it came to dressing up, she had always believed in being merely appropriate. Even if Ji Lan dressed her up like a flower fairy, she couldn’t possibly attract everyone’s attention alone.
Ji Lan wasn’t satisfied and continued discussing with Madam Chen. Han Yan sat by the window, feeling inexplicably unsettled as if something major was about to happen. Yet in her memories of the Spring Sacrifice from thirteen years ago, nothing significant had occurred. If something were to happen, it would likely target her.
She felt uneasy but didn’t know why. Suddenly, the bronze mirror in her hand cracked with a “bang!” Ji Lan jumped in fright. Han Yan looked down to see a large crack running from top to bottom in the center of the mirror’s surface, jarringly conspicuous.
A mirror breaking without cause was truly ominous.
Han Yan stared blankly at the broken mirror in her hand. Seeing this, Ji Lan quickly snatched it away, “Breaking brings peace, breaking brings peace.”
Knowing Ji Lan was trying to comfort her, Han Yan collected herself and smiled, “Let’s hurry with the hair.” Inwardly, she reasoned that she couldn’t afford to lose her composure now—she needed to stay calm and deal with whatever came her way. Ji Lan, unaware of Han Yan’s concerns, happily began arranging her hair. Ji Lan was particularly skilled, and since Han Yan had become Princess Xuanqing, she had specifically learned several new hairstyles to help Han Yan stand out in public.
After what seemed like ages, during which Han Yan’s neck had begun to ache, Ji Lan finally announced, “It’s done, Miss.”
Relieved, Han Yan immediately stood up and stretched. Ji Lan had hoped for some praise for her handiwork, but Han Yan hadn’t even glanced in the mirror. Disappointed, she watched as Han Yan pulled out a box from the drawer and retrieved her plum blossom darts.
Ji Lan knew these were Han Yan’s self-defense weapons. She had become much better at using them lately, though still somewhat awkward—but they might prove useful in critical moments. However, Ji Lan found it strange that Han Yan would carry them to the Spring Sacrifice. Could there be some danger? This thought made her vigilant, dispelling her earlier festive mood.
When Han Yan left the Zhuang Manor, Zhuang Shiyang had already prepared the horses. Concubine Mei stayed home to care for her pregnancy, while Concubine Wan and Zhuang Qin were unwell. Only Madam Zhou and Zhuang Hanming were going. Upon seeing Han Yan, Madam Zhou greeted her warmly, “Fourth Miss.”
Having already broken ties, Han Yan couldn’t be bothered to speak with her. She merely smiled and headed straight for her separate carriage without looking back. She suddenly realized being Princess Xuanqing had its advantages—she could openly disregard others in situations like this. Usually watching Fu Yunxi’s arrogance, and now being arrogant herself, the feeling wasn’t half bad.
Ji Lan noticed Han Yan’s curved lips and subtle smile, indicating her good mood, and asked, “Miss, do you think the Spring Sacrifice will be lively?”
Han Yan smiled, “Naturally, each year surpasses the last.” With the Great Zong Dynasty’s current prosperity and peace, the common people living contentedly, the Spring Sacrifice grew more grand each year.
Ji Lan lifted the curtain and looked outside, her tone wistful: “If only Madam were here, women love such festivities…” She immediately realized her mistake and fell silent. Han Yan’s smile gradually faded, replaced by deep melancholy.
Indeed, if Mother were alive, everything would be different. In this reborn life, she had changed many things but couldn’t change the fact that her mother was dead. She had avoided many disasters and traps, yet found herself in an even more complex situation. Her background, the deceased A Bi, the royal succession struggle, and Zhuang Hanming’s estrangement—all seemed coincidental yet were inevitable, and terrifyingly, there was no turning back. There was no choice but to move forward.
Was this life the right path?
The carriage fell silent, neither speaking.
The ceremony grounds were at the great temple in the east of the city. Today, the capital’s streets were empty as everyone had come to watch the Spring Sacrifice. A nine-story tower stood at the eastern end of the grounds, where the Emperor, princes, princesses, and consorts would be. Some commoners came for the festivities, others to glimpse the royal visage. Some came seeking suitable matches, as many officials brought their entire families. If they found someone suitable, they could express their interest on the spot.
When the Zhuang family’s carriage arrived, many commoners’ eyes fixed upon it. Though Zhuang Shiyang was only a fifth-rank official, hardly worth attention, Han Yan was the future Princess Xuanqing. The common people had heard much about her and wanted to see what kind of young woman had captured the unparalleled Prince Xuanqing.
Zhuang Shiyang alighted first, followed by Zhuang Hanming, Madam Zhou, and finally Han Yan from her separate carriage.
Wei Rufeng, standing among the court officials, spotted Han Yan from afar. His gaze met that of Fu Yunxi, who wore his official robes. Upon seeing Han Yan, Fu Yunxi’s eyes flashed with amazement.
Han Yan wore a simple emerald green brocade robe embroidered with light-colored camellias, cinched at her slender waist with a dark green sash, appearing elegant and graceful. Over this, she wore a light green gauze outer garment. On her wrist was a jade bracelet, and her black hair was arranged in a single coiled bun with green silk ribbons, adorned with just one bluestone fish-tail hairpin.
Usually dressed like a child, today’s formal attire arranged by Ji Lan highlighted her best features. She seemed completely transformed, without a trace of childishness, carrying herself with princess-like dignity that drew everyone’s attention.
Wei Rufeng couldn’t describe his feelings. That young girl in different attire was so captivating. She had always been mysterious—beneath her childish exterior lay a sharp, clever mind. But today, beyond cleverness and childishness, what she possessed was nobility.