He swept his sleeve and made a deep bow, respectfully accepting the booklets but not opening them, then respectfully setting them aside. His expression was composed, his tone equally so, as he addressed the Emperor as “Imperial Brother” and gestured for him to sit.

The brothers sat across from each other with a fragrant table between them. The Emperor studied him with hesitation, wondering inwardly, “What’s the matter? Did something happen during your trip to the north?”

He raised his eyes to look at the imperial countenance, then quickly lowered his eyelids, shaking his head and then nodding, leaving the Emperor confused.

“You used to be so straightforward—why have you suddenly become so muddled? This shaking and nodding—what does it mean?”

He smiled at himself, “I’m confused from illness and have confused you as well—my fault. This morning I spoke with the Sixth Prince and heard he’s being matched with a consort?”

The Emperor leaned back against the cushion, stretching his limbs, and laughed heartily: “That’s right. It’s his fault for not making progress—he can’t study well, and when his mother scolds him, he just shows his teeth. He’s made his mother quite angry, saying she should just send him away and find him a wife to straighten him out—that’s how the marriage arrangement came up. Otherwise, he’s still young—what does a thirteen-year-old know about responsibility and duty? Getting him a consort would be like children playing house. They’d quarrel every day, then come to the palace to complain, giving me a headache just thinking about it. As for all of you, you’ve reached the right age. Being busy with duties was once an excuse, but that won’t work anymore. There’s been pressure from Changchun Garden—earlier this spring, word came down that you should choose carefully, and all who should be matched should be matched. The old master wants to see you all paired up.” As he spoke, he rose and walked to the fish tank to look at the two brocaded carp, pinching some food between his fingers and tossing it in, watching the fish mouths open and close at the surface. He continued in a measured tone, “You know the Thirteenth Prince’s temperament—stubborn as a bull. When told he would be matched, he rebelled, insisting on choosing for himself. He wasn’t satisfied with daughters from civil and military officials’ families and begged Father not to constrain him, saying he wanted to look elsewhere. When the old master heard this, he naturally wouldn’t agree, saying, ‘You could bring home a fool, and the Imperial Genealogy would become like a storybook.’ The two of them eventually locked horns, and the old master was so angry he didn’t eat for two days.”

Hong Ce was somewhat surprised, “Not eating or drinking for two days isn’t feasible—the body can’t endure it.”

The Emperor waved his hand, “Not eating meals doesn’t mean no snacks—he wouldn’t starve. It was just to make a point, to force the Thirteenth Prince to comply.”

“What did Hong Xun say?”

“He refused.” The Emperor sighed, “He said if the old master had someone in mind, he should just bring her into Changchun Garden himself and leave him out of it. There’s nothing to be done about him—now it all depends on you.”

Hong Ce’s mouth twitched slightly. Only those with powerful backing dare to openly defy. He had grown up with a mother but no father’s love—an arranged marriage would be considered a blessing. Did everyone expect he wouldn’t refuse?

His fingers slowly caressed the corner of his prayer beads. Without any hint of a smile, he said: “I’m afraid I must disappoint Your Majesty. I had intended to submit a memorial in a few days, but since it’s been brought up now, I might as well be candid. I’ve met a woman I care for and wish to grow old with her. I cannot accept this arranged marriage—firstly, I don’t want to betray her; secondly, these young ladies are all the beloved daughters of their parents. With me, they would merely gain a title but feel like outsiders. We would all be miserable—what would be the point?”

He spoke directly, and the Emperor understood. Even the mightiest of men lose their resolve when facing matters of the heart—it’s nothing shameful. Having experienced it himself, the Emperor could understand his brother’s feelings. He and the Empress had gone through their tribulations, so whenever he heard of mutual affection between couples, he always adopted an attitude of wanting to help them succeed.

“That’s fine too. The girl’s background is secondary—as long as her character and appearance are acceptable. Let the Empress take a look, and if appropriate, we can formalize it.” Then he asked, “Whose daughter is she? From Beijing or elsewhere?” After a moment’s thought, he added, “How old is she this year? What zodiac sign? The zodiac is important—a couple living together shouldn’t clash or harm each other. A woman should bring fortune to her husband, allowing him to prosper in his affairs. Don’t say I’m superstitious—if you think about it carefully, there’s some truth to it.”

Needless to say, this theory came from the Empress. The Emperor was initially a pragmatist, believing in ruling through strength and dismissive of such ethereal matters. But he couldn’t resist someone constantly whispering in his ear. Women enjoy studying fate—divination, fortune-telling, and manipulating fifty-yarrow stalks in various combinations. Sometimes he would stand by watching but couldn’t discern any pattern, only knowing his Empress enjoyed these activities. In any case, she managed the inner palace in perfect order, a worthy helpmate. This worthy Empress had said that their compatible zodiac signs were why they lived so harmoniously together, so he believed it and repeated this advice to educate his brother.

Hong Ce considered each question carefully. It wasn’t that he couldn’t answer, but he found it difficult to speak. Ding Yi had presented him with a dilemma—everything else could be explained, but her absence was the most difficult hurdle to overcome.

After some thought, he moistened his lips and said: “She’s eighteen this year, born in the Year of the Goat, and from Beijing. She comes from an official family, although they’ve fallen on hard times. She’s lived through over a decade of hardship alone. In all my travels, I’ve never met such a girl—she never complains despite facing great adversities, remains optimistic, open-minded, and capable—far beyond comparison with those pampered young ladies.”

When the Emperor heard this description, it sounded familiar—almost like a mirror image of Empress Su. He liked capable women. When the Empress was a palace attendant, she could both handle literary matters and train hawks. She even helped arrange funeral matters when Empress Kun’s father passed away. A woman without affectation or pretense had charm, immediately capturing his heart. Blood brothers indeed—though not from the same mother, the blood flowing through their veins was the same. He felt Hong Ce had good taste and was clever. Resembling anyone was not as advantageous as resembling the Emperor himself—how many detours that would save! He was fortunate.

The Emperor’s face revealed a slight smile, “She sounds like a good girl. You say she’s capable—what can she do?”

Recalling her skills, pride flowed from his eyes as he enumerated them one by one: “She can play as a horn blower for celebrations and funerals; she can push a single-wheel cart to transport grain; she can tend to birds; she can climb trees to pick mulberries… And even more daringly, she apprenticed to an executioner, cleaning execution grounds, handling bloody corpses—there’s nothing she can’t do.”

The Emperor was dumbfounded. He had thought the Empress was quite remarkable but never expected his Twelfth Brother’s taste to be so unique. On second thought, something seemed amiss: “This suggests her background isn’t just modest—it’s extremely humble. Where did you find such a person, and how could she apprentice as an executioner? The Great Ying’s laws are not to be trifled with—a woman involved in such matters? Were the authorities all dead?”

Indeed, it was difficult for outsiders to accept. Seeing the Emperor about to lose his temper, he hastily explained: “Your Majesty embodies heavenly principles. There are people in this world who live in hardship far beyond our imagination. Born into an imperial family, we naturally enjoy silks and delicacies. As for her, after her family’s downfall, relatives considered her a burden—not one was willing to take her in. Orphaned at a young age, she lived with her wet nurse. Because the nurse’s family included brothers, sisters-in-law, and men, they feared it would be inconvenient for her, so they dressed her as a boy to raise her. Since she bore a boy’s identity, she naturally performed men’s work. However unwilling, she had to survive—she did nothing wrong. I speak candidly with you today because I rely on my Second Brother. I… have no alternative.” He lowered his head, his voice slightly choked with emotion at the difficult part, “I want to be good to her, to let her live more comfortably in the future. I won’t marry anyone else—if I am to take a consort, it must be her. Even if this wasn’t about an urgent arranged marriage, under normal circumstances, I would still petition Your Majesty to designate her as my consort. As husband and wife, we would forever be grateful for Your Majesty’s great kindness.”

How could this be possible? It was simply absurd! No matter how accommodating the Emperor might be, he couldn’t allow someone so lowly to contaminate the imperial bloodline. True, he had said background wouldn’t matter, but his minimum standard was a clean family history. Being poor wasn’t an issue—a prince didn’t rely on his consort’s dowry for support. Even if her father was just a minor sixth or seventh-rank official, that would be acceptable—at least from a family versed in poetry and propriety. But who was his Twelfth Brother pairing with now? Could a girl raised among men since childhood be decent? Someone who frequented the marketplace would have picked up countless bad habits. The more difficult one’s life, the more cunning one became—acting one way in public and another in private. Unable to see through her, they would eventually find the household in complete disarray.

He frowned coldly, “A marriage between two families isn’t just your matter. Though heroes aren’t judged by their origins, this is completely unreasonable. If you marry an executioner’s apprentice, what becomes of the imperial family’s dignity and face? How do you plan to explain this to the Emperor Emeritus and Noble Consort Gui?”

Hong Ce repeated the same words, “I beg my Second Brother to grant this wish. Your brother never intended to hide this from you—otherwise, I could have fabricated an identity for her. Many court officials would be willing to claim her.”

“So you’re putting me in a difficult position?” The Emperor’s voice rose slightly, frightening the attending eunuchs and palace maids into silence.

Hong Ce felt helpless. Truthfully, if she were by his side now, he wouldn’t need to confess these circumstances to the Emperor. Finding her wealthy and noble relatives to acknowledge her would have made the marriage arrangement proceed smoothly. But now? A young lady raised in a secluded chamber had suddenly gone missing—it made no sense. There was no choice but to selectively share the truth.

Just as he was about to explain further, someone entered. She wore a stone-blue robe embroidered with golden phoenixes along the edges, with a string of eighteen beryl beads hanging from the right-side frog buttons on her chest. In her thirties, having borne two sons, her complexion and appearance still showed no signs of age. Her features were dignified and elegant, still resembling a young maiden.

Hong Ce collected himself and made a deep bow, “Greetings to the Empress.”

The Empress smiled and said kindly: “The Twelfth Prince has returned? Working outside the palace is taxing. I’ve prepared some refreshments for you and His Majesty.” Turning, she assisted the Emperor, “I was just outside and heard your raised voice. You’re brothers—what couldn’t be said amicably? Why become so agitated?”

The Emperor glanced at her, thinking to himself that she had been eavesdropping for half the day and couldn’t hold back any longer, so she entered under the pretext of bringing refreshments, assuming no one would notice. Not wishing to expose her, he pointed at Hong Ce, “Ask him.”

Hong Ce looked embarrassed—after all, she was his sister-in-law, and some matters were difficult to discuss.

After waiting a while with neither brother speaking up, the Empress realized this couldn’t continue. She turned to pour tea, saying as she held the saucer: “Actually, the wind outside was strong and carried the voices—I heard a little… Is it about the Twelfth Prince’s marriage arrangement?”

Hong Ce accepted the teacup from the Empress, thanked her, and bowed slightly, answering affirmatively.

The Empress poured another cup for the Emperor, muttering to herself: “I’ve seen those twenty candidates too. I don’t know if they were just nervous entering the palace, or if they all had the same tutor—if you didn’t look at their faces, you couldn’t tell them apart by their speech or behavior. Is this how girls are educated in our Great Ying Dynasty now? It’s not so profound—just ‘move without haste, smile without showing teeth.’ Young ladies from good families are all cut from the same mold—not very interesting. This girl the Twelfth Prince mentioned… what was her name again?”

Hong Ce said: “Ding Yi, her name is Ding Yi.”

“See, what a good name—one can tell immediately she has fallen on hard times, otherwise she’d be called Spring Orchid or Autumn Chrysanthemum. A girl in hardship deserves sympathy—knowing life’s difficulties, she strives harder than anyone, and once married, values happiness more than anyone.” The Empress wore a kind smile and unhurriedly asked the Emperor, “Don’t you trust the Twelfth Prince’s judgment? Which of the many cases he has handled left you uneasy? He’s twenty-four—not a child anymore. Can’t he distinguish good from bad? We haven’t met her, yet we’re speculating about her—why think the worst instead of the best? They’ve been together for a long time; one might pretend for a while, but it takes effort to maintain a facade for months or years. To judge someone’s character doesn’t require major moral tests—just observe the small details. Sometimes a glance or an expression reveals everything.” Seated by the latticed window, with a few green bamboo stalks planted in the corner extending their leaves inside, she reached out to pluck a leaf, turning it in her hands while reflecting: “Being a girl is so difficult, especially in that role—if it were me, I’d be terrified. She even had to clean up after executions—not just girls but even men would find that challenging. Despite such obvious grievances, she’s still misunderstood and blamed—isn’t that adding frost to snow? Your Majesty is a wise and enlightened ruler who wouldn’t do such a thing, would he?”

The Emperor was left speechless by her arguments. He knew she had a good heart, but this concerned the imperial family’s dignity. He might compromise, but there were elders above him—would it be pleasant to face their reproach?

He nodded repeatedly, “Having people point fingers, saying ‘Prince Chun’s consort used to dress as a man, exposing herself in hutongs. Throughout the entire city, it’s a laughingstock’—is that acceptable? With so many women in the world, must it be her?”

When it’s not happening to you, it’s easy to advise others to let it go and choose someone else, but how simple is that? When you’ve set your heart on someone, can you just discard them after a few words? The Empress felt the Emperor had forgotten about love for many years, forgetting how he and the Grand Empress Dowager had once been at odds with each other.

She drawled, “Do not unto others what you would not have done unto yourself…” Glancing at Hong Ce, though he didn’t argue, the sorrow and determination in his eyes were evident. This was the admirable quality of men from the Yu Wen family—their infatuations might be unique, but their devotion was uniformly intense. Since the Founding Emperor, whenever they met the right person, they would stubbornly refuse to back down. Those fortunate enough to find fulfillment were blessed; those who couldn’t would rather die, carrying a sense of lofty desolation. Knowing this inherent trait, one should tread carefully around it. The Empress was kind-hearted, always feeling that accommodating others brought convenience to oneself—why not do so? There was no standard for marriage—as long as the person was right, background and foundation were secondary. So she advised the Emperor, “Don’t dismiss her outright—let’s meet her first! If Your Majesty is busy, I’m not. I love meeting sisters-in-law—leave it to me.”

The Emperor glanced at her sidelong. After much thought, finding no solution—though he could match the Empress in eloquence, it wasn’t good for husband and wife to become estranged over someone else’s affairs—he gave in, patting his knee and saying: “Did her father ever serve in office? What positions did her ancestors hold? Let’s follow the Empress’s suggestion. Bring her in for a look—if she’s good, keep her in the palace for some polish. The marriage arrangement would go more smoothly then.”

Hong Ce had his calculations. Ding Yi’s true identity couldn’t be revealed yet—telling it might make the Emperor suspect bias in his handling of the Wen Lu case. If his authority were revoked, when could he expose the mastermind behind it all? But this didn’t prevent him from showing gratitude to the imperial couple. Rising, he made a deep bow, “Thank you for your leniency, Imperial Brother. Empress, your kindness—your humble brother will remember it in his heart… But she is not here at present and cannot enter the palace to meet the Empress. I merely wish to secure her position first, to give her a home, so that when she returns, she need not wander anymore.”

After all that talk, it turned out the person wasn’t even there. The already dissatisfied Emperor frowned again, pointing at the Twelfth Prince and exclaiming to the Empress: “Look at this absurd person! Have the imperial edicts of our Great Ying become so worthless that they can be taken and set aside just waiting for this one? I’ve never heard of such a thing in eight hundred years! I can’t reason with him, and you shouldn’t waste your energy either. Quickly pick one from this batch and draft the edict—by the time he makes up his mind, the day will have dawned!”

But the Empress had a different perspective, saying with some sadness: “I guess what happened is that she didn’t want to cause you difficulty. Knowing her humble origins made her unworthy of you, yet unwilling to watch you marry another, she decided to leave, not wanting to hinder your future. Isn’t that so? Ah, women are pitiful—for the sake of their beloved, they’re willing to endure any hardship. Such a good girl—hard to find even with a lantern.”

The Emperor couldn’t bear to listen anymore. No matter how emotional the Empress became, this could not be allowed. Unwilling to hear their duet continue, he snorted and stormed off.