In recent years, Song Yuhe’s rebellious intentions had grown increasingly strong. The officials originally stationed in Jiangnan had been killed, until only a few remaining, all replaced with Song Yuhe’s people.
The Emperor had sent someone to investigate once, but that person hadn’t even reached Jiangnan before contracting a cold and dying suddenly.
When Zhao Anhao was still in the capital, His Majesty asked him: “The previous Jiangnan Governor died on the road. Everyone knows this is a near-death assignment. You dare to go?”
He said: “I dare. If it can bring peace to the realm and light to the world, I dare go.”
Inside and outside the imperial city were Prince Zhen’s spies everywhere – burning, killing, and plundering. Though he was supposed to be imperial nobility, a prince deserving of respect.
Yet now, mentioning his name would make three-year-old children cry in fear. Like a wolf or leopard, his very name struck terror.
His evil deeds were notorious, too numerous to record.
The Emperor smiled, saying he resembled someone. Zhao Anhao consciously didn’t ask who, only thinking in his heart that someone earning such praise from the Emperor must be an upright and noble person.
Later, at Jiangnan’s Zhen Prince Mansion, he saw An Mianmian lying pale and bloodless in Ning Ge’s arms. Her eyes were slightly closed, but hearing his voice, she looked up at him once before her gaze slid imperceptibly toward Song Yuhe.
But just that one glance was enough for Zhao Anhao to confirm.
He couldn’t forget those eyes – dark and bright. The thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl had asked him in a childish voice: “Is your name taken from ‘How can one maintain pure whiteness while being stained by worldly dust’?”
Such a simple sentence, yet it left him stunned in place for a long time.
Everyone knew Song Yuhe didn’t respect the Emperor – his intentions were as obvious as Sima Zhao’s. Yet he wanted to join Song Yuhe’s service, to become his retainer.
In his white brocade robes, how could he maintain pure whiteness in the future? Faced with her inquiry, he was so ashamed he didn’t know how to answer.
At the time, he thought it was just a casual remark. Now it seemed she had been advising him to turn back.
Zhao Anhao held the hairpin that the black-clothed man had thrown into the courtyard during the chaos. He had seen it in her hair when he first arrived in Jiangnan.
On this journey, he had escaped death nine times, dodging countless assassination attempts. Several times, he thought he would die on the road like the previous Jiangnan Governor.
But he survived, standing on Jiangnan soil, standing at the gates of Zhen Prince’s Mansion.
As soon as he got off the carriage, he saw the girl he had remembered for years.
The girl smiled and said to him, “You must be tired from the long journey.”
At the time, he thought it was just a polite phrase. Now, thinking back, she had recognized him from the very beginning.
She was too good at acting – all her words hidden within words.
When they were almost at the capital, with most of Prince Zhen’s spies eliminated along the way, An Mianmian got into his carriage for the first time.
Perhaps because she was injured, she wasn’t as lively as usual, but calm and quiet, like a young lady from a wealthy family.
Her first question was: “That day when you played chess with His Highness, who won?”
He thought for a while before realizing she meant the game the day she was injured and returned to the mansion. He said, “We didn’t finish.”
“If you still remember, could you recreate the game?”
Zhao Anhao didn’t understand why, but didn’t ask much. When they reached the middle game, he heard her say: “Not like his usual skill level.”
“His Highness’s mind was disturbed, so his chess was disturbed too.”
After he said this, An Mianmian was silent for a long time, only continuing to play step by step with him.
He didn’t tell her that her chess style carried traces of Prince Zhen’s shadow.
After returning to the palace, the Emperor asked him what he wanted as a reward for this merit.
He thought and thought, then said nothing.
The Emperor asked him to investigate an old case – about the lord of Jiasheng Pass’s treason fourteen years ago.
His heart skipped a beat as he asked uneasily: “Is there something wrong?”
“An Mianmian begged me to clear her father’s name.” The Emperor seemed to remember something and said, “I recall your ancestral home is also at Jiasheng Pass. Do you have any impression of this matter?”
He remembered – remembered the enemy invasion, remembered Prince Zhen leading people to suppress it, and remembered that night of slaughter when he saw the little girl in the dry well.
She huddled in the corner, looking up at him with tears still on her face.
He asked if she was still alive, then felt foolish for asking, and told her to wait – he would come save her soon.
So it was this girl.
Zhao Anhao smiled. His family had all been killed by enemy troops, so he could only seek refuge with his uncle in the capital. But halfway there, someone claiming to be from the palace took her away.
After more than ten years, returning to Jiasheng Pass again, Zhao Anhao first went to the former Bai mansion. Now it bore a new plaque – the new lord was Ye Shangqing, a good official praised by everyone.
He explained his purpose, and the steward invited him in, served tea, and smiled apologetically, saying the lord was training at the military camp but had sent someone to fetch him.
The people in the mansion talked and laughed, yet were properly mannered.
A child playing kickball accidentally kicked it into the mansion. A maid kicked it back with a smile, saying: “It’s getting dark – don’t play too long. Go home quickly.”
The child answered crisply and ran off, swaying with the ball.
Completely different from Jiangnan.
He investigated for a month. All evidence pointed to Lord Bai’s crimes – there was nothing more to investigate.
When reporting back to the capital, the Emperor sighed: “How should I tell her?”
Zhao Anhao didn’t know.
What about that girl who had twice walked through death’s door to prove her father’s innocence and clear the Bai family’s wrongful accusation of over ten years? What if she learned that her father, the father she had always admired, really was the traitor people called him?
How could she bear it?
Later, he rarely heard news of her. The Emperor arranged for her to live in the uninhabited palace where she had stayed before. People in the palace often called her Miss An.
She rarely went out, occasionally visiting Consort Shu’s palace. One day after court, at the palace gates, he encountered her. It was her birthday, and she had requested permission from the Emperor to leave the palace.
She still looked the same. Seeing him, she curtsied slightly, her voice cool: “Lord Zhao.”
This was probably her true personality – cool and composed, her eyes calm as still water.
He also bowed, calling: “Miss An.”
Like others, he called her Miss An, yet in his heart was still a thread of hope. He vaguely remembered when he rescued her from the dry well years ago, she had said in a small voice, still tearful: “My name is Bai Sang Yu. What’s yours?”
Her surname was Bai, yet she still chose to live in the palace using the name Consort Shu had given her.
That night, somehow, he hadn’t wanted to tell her his name.
If he could return to that time, he would say:
“I am Zhao Anhao, the name taken from ‘How can one maintain pure whiteness while being stained by worldly dust?'”
He lived up to this name, lived up to his official robes.
He wanted to tell her he was the brother who had saved her from the dry well, and wanted to ask if she remembered.
But in the end, he said nothing, only smiled at her and said with the same distant yet polite manner: “This official wishes Miss a healthy birthday, joy for the rest of your life, peace and prosperity.”
She smiled slightly, thanked him, and left.
He saw An Mianmian turn onto the north road – the path leading to Zhen Prince’s Mansion.
Perhaps she wanted to visit old friends.
Later, his aunt asked him: “You’re not young anymore. Is there a girl you fancy?”
He smiled, her face floating in his mind. He shook his head and said no.
The second day after his wedding, his wife held a lotus-pink hairpin and asked where it came from.
He smiled at the hairpin and said, “From an old friend.”
His wife asked: “Should I put it away?”
He answered: “Put it away.”
Along with his feelings, all stored in a box.
He had a comfortable life, an uncle and aunt who treated him like their own son, and a virtuous wife.
And this longing he had harbored for so many years, knowing it would never bear fruit, let it go.
He would uphold his pure whiteness, serve country and people with integrity and uprightness – that was enough.
Feeling something tickling his face, Song Yuhe frowned slightly and said softly: “Mianmian, stop playing.”
“You’re awake?” A girl’s voice came from in front of him. Song Yuhe opened his eyes to see An Mianmian holding wheat grass, crouching before him with bright, dark eyes. “Who are you? Why are you sleeping here?”
An Mianmian would never speak to him so boldly.
Song Yuhe’s eyes darkened as he looked at the person with An Mianmian’s face, then casually observed the surroundings.
An endless grassland – Jiasheng Pass?
“Hey, I’m talking to you.” The girl waved the wheat grass in front of his eyes, tilting her head to look at him. “From your clothes, you’re from the capital, right? Which family’s young master are you?”
Song Yuhe’s thin lips parted tentatively: “Bai Sang Yu?”
The girl looked surprised, her eyes widening: “How do you know my name?”
It was her.
Song Yuhe’s expression instantly softened: “You’re wearing Jiasheng Pass Bai mansion’s entry token at your waist.”
“Very observant.” Bai Sang Yu nodded in understanding, smiled, and asked again: “What about you? Who are you? Why are you here?”
“I am from the Yan family of Qinghe, given name Li.”
“Yan Li?” Bai Sang Yu murmured. “That’s a good name.”
Good?
Song Yuhe lowered his eyes and chuckled softly. When he looked up at her, his eyes held a hint of helplessness: “I was traveling here and lost my way, got separated from my attendants. Being tired, I slept here. Could Miss Bai please guide me into the city?”
Bai Sang Yu nodded and asked: “Do you have travel documents?”
“Naturally.” Song Yuhe searched through his pack, following the memories in his mind, and showed them to her.
Bai Sang Yu examined them carefully for a moment, then stood up: “Follow me.”
“I heard the capital has a curfew every night – is that true? Is it also true that women in the capital can’t talk to men on the street? Have you tried the Jade Dew Pine Nut Pastry from palace banquets – is it truly extraordinarily delicious?”
All along the way, Bai Sang Yu asked endless questions. Song Yuhe showed no impatience, answering gently: “There is a curfew, but night markets are open five days each month. Men and women are separate, but there’s no explicit prohibition on interaction between men and women…” Song Yuhe remembered An Mianmian’s curved eyes when she first tasted Jade Dew Pine Nut Pastry, and his heart filled with tenderness.
“Extraordinarily delicious.”
Seeing his thorough knowledge of the capital, Bai Sang Yu became more certain he was the person from the capital Father had mentioned.
She helped Song Yuhe find an inn and told the innkeeper he was an honored guest from the capital who needed good service.
Song Yuhe chose the top-floor elegant room and had a servant clean it thoroughly again.
Sitting by the window drinking tea, he said: “I’ll need to trouble Miss Bai to accompany me to the shops later to buy bedding.”
“Isn’t there some right there?” Bai Sang Yu pointed to the bed.
“I need new ones.”
Not only new, but made with the finest brocade covers and cotton picked in late autumn.
The satin should be crimson with gold trim.
Bai Sang Yu really couldn’t understand why bedding required so many specifications.
“How about this one?” She pointed to a satin surface.
Song Yuhe shook his head: “Too gaudy.”
“This one?”
“Vulgar and unbearable.”
The shopkeeper secretly pulled Bai Sang Yu to a corner and whispered: “This person is…?”
“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t. Just remember, you absolutely cannot neglect him.”
This warning about not neglecting him made the shopkeeper twelve times more attentive.
Song Yuhe sat by the window drinking tea, letting the memories in his mind rage and erode, his expression unchanged.
These were two completely different experiences.
The current him was still the Song Dynasty’s eldest prince, but Mother had never abandoned his life for succession struggles.
The former Empress died of illness. Mother became the new Empress, giving birth to the legitimate son Song Rongfeng, who was made Crown Prince.
And he remained Prince Zhen.
Only…
Paternal love and filial piety, brotherly harmony – these were his current memories.
Both sets of memories were so clear he could even recall minute details from the past.
What was going on?
“What are you thinking about?”
The girl’s lovely voice pulled back his thoughts. Bai Sang Yu bent over and asked him, “You came at a good time. Today is Jiasheng Pass’s Evil-Dispelling Festival. Rest for a while – I’ll come take you out tonight.”
When the girl left, her hair brushed his palm, tingling.
After she left, Ning Ge entered from outside: “Your Highness, a letter from the palace.”
Opening it, he saw Song Rongfeng’s handwriting.
Imperial Brother, greetings: Since Imperial Brother left the palace over a year ago, Father and Mother have missed you deeply. In half a year, the capital’s winter plum will bloom alone. Can you return to the capital to celebrate Mother’s Birthday?
Another page had crooked handwriting: When will Imperial Brother return? Don’t forget the promise you made when leaving the palace – Imperial Brother wouldn’t want to be someone who breaks their word, would you?
It was Ruoyi.
Ning Ge craned his neck to peek and chuckled, but seeing Song Yuhe look at him, he immediately apologized: “Your Highness, I was wrong.”
Seeing Song Yuhe say nothing, he continued: “Your Highness, we haven’t been back in a long time. In half a year is the Empress’s birthday – should we return this year?”
“Originally, Your Highness left the palace because Her Majesty kept pressuring you about marriage. You said yourself that if you didn’t find a suitable girl within two years, you’d let Her Majesty decide all marriage matters after returning to the capital.”
Ning Ge’s voice grew quieter, and after finishing the last word, he didn’t dare linger and quickly left.
Song Yuhe remembered.
He had indeed made this promise.
Evil-dispelling meant removing illness and evil spirits.
Jiasheng Pass was located in the northwest of the Song Dynasty, one of the four great passes, an easily defended and difficult-to-attack position.
Song Yuhe took a short nap, changed into the brocade robes Ning Ge brought, and sat by the window drinking tea.
“Why do you love drinking tea so much?” The door wasn’t closed, and Bai Sang Yu walked in slowly, sitting across from him.
Song Yuhe poured her a cup: “Try some.”
She sipped it and frowned slightly: “Bitter.”
“Have some candied fruit.”
A square box on the table contained what Ning Ge had bought from the shop.
Bai Sang Yu shook her head: “I’ve never liked sweets since childhood.”
Song Yuhe’s hand paused, his eyes darkening slightly, saying nothing.
The two walked side by side through the market. Jiasheng Pass differed from the capital – people mostly wore fur outer garments with tight sleeves for convenient work.
Sensing something amiss, Song Yuhe pulled Bai Sang Yu aside to dodge, and a splash of water fell to the ground.
Song Yuhe narrowed his eyes, his hand unconsciously gripping his sword hilt, when he heard Bai Sang Yu say: “You can’t dodge! You can’t dodge!”
Bai Sang Yu ran to the person who had splashed water, took the willow branch, dipped it in water again, and sprinkled it toward Song Yuhe.
This time, Song Yuhe didn’t move.
“This dispels evil, letting the willow branch take away a year’s bad luck.” Bai Sang Yu smiled and handed it to him. “Come, help me dispel evil.”
Song Yuhe followed her example. He had only been to Jiasheng Pass once, in the depths of winter, and hadn’t known these customs.
“Eat meat! Eat meat!” Bai Sang Yu grabbed Song Yuhe’s sleeve and ran to a small stall, smiling at the vendor: “Uncle Li, five skewers.”
“Coming right up.”
Song Yuhe stood by the wooden table with a slight frown. Bai Sang Yu leaned over: “What’s wrong?”
Dirty.
He pressed his lips together. Before he could speak, Bai Sang Yu understood. She pulled out her handkerchief and spread it on the chair, but the small piece was completely inadequate.
“Wait for me!”
She ran to the shop across the street, brought out a long bench, bought half a bolt of cloth to spread on it: “Sit.”
Only then did Song Yuhe sit down. Seeing her chatting with people nearby, he quietly folded and put away that handkerchief.
“If you’re such a clean freak, how did you sleep on the ground this morning?”
“I wiped it clean.” Song Yuhe answered flatly.
He hadn’t at all. In his memory, Song Yuhe was quite casual, different from himself.
He silently observed the person beside him. This body was much better than his own, with calluses on the palms, probably from practicing martial arts since childhood.
He had never imagined he could one day be free from those herbal medicines.
“Try this – it’s mutton from the Simon region, delicious.” Five skewers arrived, fragrant and sizzling. Bai Sang Yu took one skewer and put it on Song Yuhe’s plate, took another for herself, and tears came to her eyes from the heat. “Eat quickly – it won’t taste good when it’s cold.”
As if realizing something, she removed the meat from his skewer and arranged it properly, making a gesture of invitation: “Eat.”
Only then did Song Yuhe use his chopsticks, thinking that if it were before, An Mianmian would definitely test for poison first.
Bai Sang Yu loved spicy food, crushing red chilies and sprinkling them on the meat. Taking a bite, she looked very satisfied.
An Mianmian didn’t eat spicy food and loved sweets.
One person’s tastes could differ so greatly.
Song Yuhe’s fingers traced the cup’s rim as he quietly watched her. Behind them, people came and went in bustling liveliness, but Song Yuhe’s eyes held only her.
They played until the middle of the night, finally stopping at the inn entrance. Bai Sang Yu asked him: “Did you have fun today?”
Song Yuhe nodded lightly: “I’ll escort you home. It’s late – it’s not safe for a girl to walk alone.”
Bai Sang Yu waved her hand: “I do this often. Everyone in the city knows me. They’re all simple, honest people. The city patrol makes five rounds each night – nothing will happen.”
In a few words, she praised everyone in Jiasheng Pass.
Bai Sang Yu deliberately said this for Song Yuhe to hear. Someone from the capital had come to secretly investigate Jiasheng Pass, and she happened to encounter him – she needed to perform well.
When she returned home that afternoon, she told Father that someone from the capital had arrived, asking if they needed extra preparations. Father said: “No need. Act normally.”
Song Yuhe saw through Bai Sang Yu’s thoughts and clasped his hands behind his back: “Let’s go.”
It was a tone that brooked no refusal.
The inn was some distance from the Bai mansion. The farther from the market, the quieter it became. Moonlight poured down, covering the ground in clear radiance, cool and bright, making Song Yuhe momentarily dazed, as if he had returned to those years in Jiangnan.
He walked ahead, and with just a glance back, he could see the girl in peach clothes following one step behind. Her obsidian eyes reflected him, bright beyond measure – just one look could dispel most of the gloom in one’s heart.
This girl now walked beside him in dark fitted clothes, like the curved blade hanging in the sky.
“Why does Young Master Yan look at me?”
“This may be presumptuous, but I’d like to know – is Miss Bai betrothed?”
“Ah?” Bai Sang Yu was stunned for a moment, then nodded: “Indeed presumptuous.”
Song Yuhe looked at Bai Sang Yu seriously: “I’m not afraid of Miss Bai’s laughter. I originally left home because my family pressed me urgently about marriage, and I couldn’t bear it. After traveling for a year and a half, meeting Miss Bai for the first time was like a stunning glimpse that moved my heart completely.”
“How many girls have you said this to?”
“Only you.”
Bai Sang Yu walked a few quick steps to get in front of Song Yuhe, matching his pace while looking into his eyes: “Young Master Yan, speaking such words to me upon our first meeting is truly improper – this is the first point.”
If not for his gentle, serious demeanor, Bai Sang Yu would think him frivolous.
“You recognized at a glance that I’m the lord’s daughter, yet didn’t reveal your identity to me, lacking sincerity. This is the second point.” Bai Sang Yu stared at his face, trying to see changes in his expression. “Prince Zhen, what have you come to investigate about us?”
Having his identity exposed so quickly, Song Yuhe showed no surprise at all.
The Qinghe Yan clan was the maternal family of the current Empress. Only direct lineage could have single-character names, and his mother was the only legitimate daughter.
“I never intended to hide it from you.” Song Yuhe explained the second point. These were all things in plain sight, except the name Yan Li was one even he barely remembered, and no one would think of it immediately.
“Miss Bai, I truly fell for you at first sight.”
“What if I have someone I fancy? Would you still want to marry me?”
Song Yuhe frowned slightly, pressed his lips together, thought seriously for a moment, then nodded lightly: “I want to marry you.”
He had wanted to for four years.
Even if she had someone she fancied now, Song Yuhe would compete for her.
At worst, he could have the Emperor issue an imperial edict for marriage – he would marry her no matter what.
Bai Sang Yu hadn’t expected this person to be so unreasonable. After being speechless for a while, she turned to enter the mansion, not forgetting to bow properly before leaving.
On the way back, Ning Ge appeared and clicked his tongue twice before saying, “Your Highness, how could you be so impulsive? This afternoon, you had me investigate Miss Bai’s marriage prospects, and tonight you directly asked her yourself. How could you be so impatient? It’s not like you at all.”
Song Yuhe didn’t answer but asked instead: “What did you find?”
“There are two people.”
Two? Song Yuhe’s brow twitched – so many.
“One is the second prince of Simon, who suddenly proposed last New Year but was directly refused.”
The Simon prince wasn’t a threat – as long as Lord Bai wasn’t brain-damaged, he would never agree to that proposal.
After waiting a long time with no continuation, Song Yuhe glanced at him. Only then did Ning Ge say with a grin, “The other one is quite troublesome. It’s the legitimate young master of the Zhao family from Guanzhong, childhood sweethearts with Miss Bai. I heard that a few years ago, when Young Master Zhao was bedridden with illness, Miss Bai visited the Zhao mansion every day.”
This sly tone was as if he feared Song Yuhe might feel good hearing it.
“What’s his name?”
“Zhao Anhao.”
Him again.
Song Yuhe narrowed his eyes slightly. He had noticed something off about how that man looked at Mianmian back then – they were actually both from Jiasheng Pass.
“I heard they were originally planning to get engaged, but Young Master Zhao felt his weak constitution might delay Miss Bai. These past few years, his health has gradually improved – the good day is probably coming soon.”
“Ning Ge,” Song Yuhe said flatly, “I’ve written a letter in reply to Father Emperor. You deliver it – it must arrive the morning after tomorrow.”
“Your Highness, it’s thousands of li from here to the capital…” Ning Ge was halfway through his complaint when he realized His Highness was retaliating against him, so he resigned himself to it.
He had only himself to blame for getting carried away – His Highness was still the same grudge-holding prince.
Once Song Yuhe’s identity was revealed, Bai Lizheng came early with his subordinates to welcome him at the inn.
Only then did the innkeeper realize yesterday’s distinguished guest was the current dynasty’s eldest prince. He felt fortunate that he had listened to Bai Sang Yu and served him well.
“This minister, Bai Lizheng, was late in welcoming you. Please punish me, Prince Zhen!”
“No matter. Lord Bai, please rise.”
On Song Yuhe’s first night staying at the lord’s mansion, he saw Zhao Anhao.
Dressed in white like jade, Bai Sang Yu walked beside him, looking quite happy. They were too far away to hear what they were saying.
Bai Lizheng followed Song Yuhe’s gaze and explained with a smile: “That’s the legitimate young master of the Zhao family. Today is his birthday. The two have known each other since childhood and are quite close. Shall I call him over for Your Highness to see?”
“No need,” Song Yuhe put down his teacup, his voice cold. “Lord Bai has accompanied me all day. Go attend to your affairs – I want to walk around by myself.”
“Yes.”
Song Yuhe waited for Bai Sang Yu on her inevitable path. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hesitate before approaching to pay respects.
“This subject’s daughter greets Your Highness.”
Not hearing Song Yuhe speak for a long time, Bai Sang Yu didn’t dare move either. “I have already sent word to Father Emperor, requesting him to issue an edict for our marriage.”
Bai Sang Yu looked up in shock, forgetting propriety: “Your Highness, you…”
Her words stopped abruptly. The handsome person before her looked forlorn, his eyes slightly downcast, appearing lonely and cold in the moonlight.
“I’m not forcing you, but cutting off my tail to survive. I beg Miss Bai to marry me and save me from fire and water.” Song Yuhe’s gaze was gentle, his voice soft, his eyes full of broken light as he forced a bitter smile.
“Imperial relatives may seem glorious, but I didn’t want to drag you into storms. It’s just that now only you can help me. The Father Emperor sends capital officials here to investigate every year – I know something about it. The court is full of entangled roots. Even if Lord Bai is completely innocent, he can’t withstand rumors and gossip. When that time comes, it may spark nameless fires.”
To fabricate charges, what lack of pretext? – Such a simple principle was clear to Bai Sang Yu once she thought about it.
“Why me?”
“I have no connection to the throne, but I’m still a prince. If you marry me, those court people will have more reservations about moving against the Bai family. Jiasheng Pass is one of the Song Dynasty’s four great passes. If I marry you, I won’t fear persecution in the future.”
Since ancient times, the imperial family has been thin on sentiment. Bai Sang Yu had heard something about this from her elders.
The current sage had fought his way up from bastard son status – even Grandmother sighed at those brutal times.
Now the sage only had two sons and one daughter, showing how vicious succession struggles could be.
“Your Highness, I’ve lived in Jiasheng Pass since childhood and don’t understand capital customs.”
“I have my mansion in the capital. If you marry me, you’ll be the mansion’s mistress – you can set the rules.”
“I’ve read in storybooks that capital men all have many wives who compete for favor and quarrel.”
“I will only have you as my wife. If I break this promise, let me die bleeding from seven orifices.”
Bai Sang Yu covered his mouth, her delicate brows furrowing: “How can Your Highness speak so inauspiciously?”
Song Yuhe took the opportunity to grasp her wrist and looked down at her: “There’s another reason I didn’t mention earlier.”
“What?”
“I truly find Miss Bai delightful in every way, my heart moved completely.”
At these words, the girl before him instantly reddened to her ears. Stammering without knowing what to say, she could only push him away and say with forced composure: “How can Your Highness be so frivolous! If Your Highness continues like this, I…”
After saying “I” for a long time without continuing, Bai Sang Yu said urgently, “This subject’s daughter takes her leave!”
Having said this, she fled in panic.
Song Yuhe touched his nose, watching the girl’s flustered retreat, reflecting on whether he had indeed been too impulsive.
She didn’t refuse – so she must have agreed, right?
That it went so smoothly was almost unbelievable to Song Yuhe.
He turned to look at the tranquil lake surface. This place was ultimately different from his former world.
Could it be that Heaven, seeing his pitiable state, had given him another kind of life?
Song Yuhe didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits, but if not for supernatural intervention, how could he explain appearing here with similar yet completely different experiences?
Could it be… that mung bean cake with red beans inside?
Song Yuhe smiled wryly – how could that be possible?
Or perhaps, Shengde Temple?
The monk had told him that some things shouldn’t be told even to Buddha.
What had he prayed for that day?
Before leaving, he had looked back once, just once.
In his heart, he had said: if he could see Bai Sang Yu, he would never let her become An Mianmian.
A gust of wind brought back Song Yuhe’s thoughts, causing ripples on the lake’s surface.
Five days later, Ning Ge returned, bringing the imperial edict for marriage.
A hundred jin of gold, ten thousand liang of silver, a thousand bolts of silk.
Truly a magnificent dowry procession.
Even though Bai Lizheng was prepared, he was startled by this display. While shocked, he was also relieved.
At least, judging by this level of attention in the betrothal gifts, Sang Yu wouldn’t suffer after marrying over.
The departure date was set for the seventh day of the sixth month, an auspicious day for travel.
The day before, Song Yuhe searched the entire Bai mansion without finding a trace of Bai Sang Yu. Only after he had searched everywhere did Ning Ge say: “Miss Bai went to the Zhao family’s eastern villa to see Young Master Zhao.”
Song Yuhe glanced at him. Why didn’t you say so earlier?
Too lazy to blame him, he got in a carriage and headed east. At the Zhao family villa, he hesitated briefly before entering the nearest wine shop.
He opened a second-floor private room that happened to overlook the villa’s… roof tiles.
“Isn’t Your Highness going in to catch them in the act?” Ning Ge asked after the shop boy served tea.
“Insolent,” Song Yuhe glanced at him coolly, his eyes full of warning. “Is Princess Zhen someone you dare gossip about casually?”
Ning Ge was startled and bowed his head in apology: “This subordinate knows his crime.”
He waited until evening to see Zhao Anhao escort Bai Sang Yu out, reach up to pat her head, and say something more before Bai Sang Yu turned to leave.
Song Yuhe immediately ran downstairs and stood in the middle of the road. When Bai Sang Yu approached, he noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed, and jealousy flared in his heart.
“Your Highness? How did you come here?”
To catch adultery.
Though upset inside, he showed nothing on his face. Song Yuhe said gently, “I came to escort you home. Why didn’t he see you back?”
“Brother Zhao said escorting me wouldn’t be good for my reputation.”
She called him “Your Highness,” but called Zhao Anhao “Brother Zhao.”
Song Yuhe pressed his lips together and pulled her wrist to leave: “You and I are betrothed – there’s nothing wrong with me leading you.”
The East City is quite far from the Bai mansion. Didn’t Your Highness come by carriage?”
“No!”
Bai Sang Yu had drunk some wine and was now sobered by the evening breeze. She followed Song Yuhe step by step. When he didn’t speak, she didn’t dare speak either, and they walked quietly all the way.
After walking for a while, seeing Song Yuhe stop, Bai Sang Yu also stopped: “Your Highness?”
“I’m tired from walking.”
“…”
Soon, Ning Ge came with the carriage Song Yuhe had abandoned. Song Yuhe helped her into the carriage, and after they were seated, asked: “What did he say to you today?”
“He gave me a jug of wine as a congratulatory gift, saying it was something I buried when I was little. I don’t even remember, but the wine was quite good – I drank it all.”
“When I’m not around in the future, don’t be greedy for drink.”
“I know,” Bai Sang Yu smiled with squinted eyes. “Brother Zhao isn’t just anyone – I only drink in front of him.”
“Not even him.”
One “Brother Zhao” after another made Song Yuhe’s eyes turn cold, his fingers gripping the teacup turning white.
“Is Your Highness jealous?”
Song Yuhe nodded without hesitation: “Of course I’m jealous when the girl I like drinks with another man, especially a childhood sweetheart.”
“Petty.”
“I admit it.”
Bai Sang Yu was speechless – she never once got the better of him in words.
Mainly because she was thin-skinned.
Song Yuhe’s mood improved greatly. He smiled all the way, and when getting off the carriage, he helped her down. The girl’s fragrance brushed past his nose.
Lingering and clinging, soft and tender.
As the departure day drew nearer, Song Yuhe accompanied Bai Sang Yu to visit her grandmother.
An elderly lady with graying hair but clear, bright eyes.
Song Yuhe remembered her. When the Bai mansion was massacred, she had sat in the main seat of the central hall and personally stabbed a dagger through Bai Lizheng’s throat.
Most of the evidence of Bai Lizheng’s treason and collaboration with enemies had also come from her.
Her eyes then had been as clear as now, filled with tears as she held Bai Lizheng’s corpse and wailed.
Between country and family, she had chosen the former.
A mother personally ending her son’s life – no pain could cut deeper.
But if she hadn’t done this, what awaited Bai Lizheng would have been unbearable torture, and his body wouldn’t have remained intact.
For this reason, Song Yuhe still respected this old lady.
He cupped his hands and bowed, following Bai Sang Yu in calling: “Grandmother.”
“Prince Zhen, please rise.”
After an ordinary family conversation, the old lady asked to speak with Song Yuhe alone.
“Prince Zhen, I presume upon my old age to say things I shouldn’t say.” The old lady poured tea for Song Yuhe and handed it to him with both hands.
“Please speak, Grandmother.”
“Sang Yu is a stubborn child. She appears clever but is rash. If she offends Your Highness in the future, please explain things to her more. The Bai family has only this one girl. We’ve spoiled her too much since childhood – her temperament isn’t as gentle as capital noble ladies…” The old lady paused repeatedly before speaking again: “All of Jiasheng Pass prays for Your Highness and the Princess to live harmoniously and happily, a blessed union.”
This last sentence, though a threat, was spoken by someone with reddening eyes.
After speaking, she knelt with a thud and performed the deepest kowtow.
Song Yuhe understood her meaning – she was using all of Jiasheng Pass to beg him to treat Bai Sang Yu well.
Song Yuhe bent down to help her up, his voice soft but firm: “Grandmother, rest assured. I swear on my life.”
“Good… good…” The old lady shed tears.
On the way back, Bai Sang Yu kept stealing glances at Song Yuhe. Though her head was full of questions she wanted to ask, she kept holding them back.
Song Yuhe smiled and glanced at her: “Grandmother asked me to treat you well and not disappoint her.”
Bai Sang Yu murmured, then, after a long while, stopped and asked him: “Will you?”
“Of course I will.” Song Yuhe stopped with her. As they spoke, flower petals fell with the wind, landing on Bai Sang Yu’s hairpin.
“Your Highness, I can’t tolerate even a grain of sand in my eyes. If you treat me poorly after we reach the capital, I’ll leave even if it costs my life. Whatever I decide to do, I will accomplish.”
The girl’s beautiful face was illuminated by sunlight, her eyes completely serious. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her eyes black as obsidian.
“I know.”
Song Yuhe gently pulled her into his embrace, his hand stroking her hair, his eyes reddening.
He did know her temperament – he had always known.
Such a stubborn, willful person – after his death, when she learned the truth about her father, what would her reaction have been?
Would it be like their first meeting, her little face all scrunched up with crystal tears hanging on her cheeks? Or like when she was kidnapped, pale and weak as if she might stop breathing the next second?
Had she thought of him?
He, who was so hated by her, regarded her with hostility, walking on thin ice around her.
“If something you had always believed in, worked toward for so long, turned out to be wrong in the end, what would you do?”
“Had I persisted for a long time?”
“Over ten years.”
Bai Sang Yu’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Her hand moved to her heart, feeling an inexplicable pain. After a moment, she said: “If it were really like that, I suppose I would calmly accept it. After all, it would be my own mistake.”
Feeling the hand holding hers tighten, Bai Sang Yu turned to look at him, only able to see his profile like a painting. He seemed to have something on his mind. Though looking into the distance, his gaze wasn’t focused on anything real.
That night, Song Yuhe had a dream.
The dream was full of blood and slaughter, corpses everywhere.
He frantically ordered people to stop, but those around him couldn’t hear his voice. Blood splattered on him, staining his white brocade robes red.
“Your Highness.”
He heard someone calling him and turned to see a figure standing in the courtyard, reflected in moonlight with indifferent features.
It was An Mianmian.
“Mianmian, I’ll take you away.” Song Yuhe stepped forward quickly but stopped when he saw clearly who was before him.
The person before him wore the dress from Jiangnan’s Zhen Prince Mansion, her originally clean face covered in blood, her whole body bloody.
“Your Highness, this is what I saw when you ordered the massacre of the Bai mansion.”
An Mianmian spoke lightly, but each word struck Song Yuhe’s heart like thunderous blows. He wept bitterly, shedding tears.
“With such memories, I have nightmares every night, terrors every day. But who can I blame?” An Mianmian shifted her gaze from him to their surroundings. “Treason and collaboration with enemies naturally calls for exterminating nine generations. Your Highness’s actions were not improper.”
“But Your Highness, if I don’t hate you, who should I blame? My loving father? The soldier brothers who raised me? Or my mother, who treasured me above all?”
“Your Highness, in Jiangnan, you always asked if I wanted to be a princess. When you asked, did you carry any sincerity?”
An Mianmian looked at him, her eyes reflecting broken light in the moonlight.
“Of course it was sincere.”
Song Yuhe watched her bend down to pick up a short sword soaked in blood on the ground. He cried out in panic: “Mianmian, don’t, please don’t…”
He wanted to snatch it away, but his body seemed frozen, unable to move. He could only watch helplessly as she thrust the short sword into her heart, watch her lose strength, and slowly fall to the ground.
She lay there, pale-faced, just like after returning from that poetry gathering.
Song Yuhe woke with a start, sitting up and calming himself repeatedly, but couldn’t stop the tears falling like silk threads.
An Mianmian’s final words echoed constantly in his mind: Your Highness, though I delivered the poisoned wine, it still doesn’t satisfy my hatred. If you developed feelings for me, then my dying before you is the most harmful thing I could think of to do to you.
She said: Your Highness, the road ahead is long. Please never have an easy time, please live in pain, and dwell in hell. Only this would be worthy of my decade-plus of hatred, worthy of the blood beneath your feet.
Song Yuhe clutched his chest, the severe pain making him unable to straighten his back. He gasped heavily, desperately seeking a trace of moonlight’s favor.
She hated him so much.
She hated him to such an extent.
The next day, seeing Bai Sang Yu’s face, Song Yuhe felt somewhat dazed.
Bai Sang Yu waved her hand: “Why is Your Highness distracted?”
“We depart for the capital today,” Song Yuhe said gently. “Father Emperor has summoned me back.”
Bai Sang Yu was stunned: “So urgent?”
She had wanted to say they should stay a few more days, but seeing the redness in his eyes, she ultimately swallowed her words and just nodded.
Before leaving, Bai Sang Yu asked Song Yuhe to accompany her to the place where they first met.
The wheat grass had grown taller. Bai Sang Yu skillfully climbed the tree and sat on a branch, swinging her legs.
Song Yuhe stood under the tree watching her. Her carefree, unrestrained appearance was delightful to behold.
“I was naughty as a child. Every time Mother beat me, I would hide in the tree. Then Father would catch me under the tree and carry me back. Those times were so good – I thought I could stay here forever.”
“Come down, I’ll catch you.” Song Yuhe spread his arms, wind lifting his robes.
“Can you catch me?”
“Of course.”
Bai Sang Yu hesitated briefly, then jumped down, landing steadily in a warm embrace. Tears instantly fell from her eyes.
She hooked her arms around Song Yuhe’s neck, hanging on him and refusing to come down, not wanting him to see her crying.
“Your Highness, I just can’t bear to leave this place.”
“I know,” Song Yuhe’s voice was gentle as he softly stroked her hair. “After we marry, I’ll come back with you. We’ll live at the Bai mansion, alright?”
Bai Sang Yu braced herself on his shoulders to look at him, her eyes full of surprise, as if considering whether his words were sincere.
Song Yuhe hooked her nose affectionately: “Why such an expression?”
“Is Your Highness serious?”
“Naturally.”
Before she could feel shy, she saw the passersby’s gazes and realized how strange her position was, so she struggled to get down.
“What’s wrong?” Song Yuhe asked knowingly.
Bai Sang Yu hid behind him, head lowered, face red with embarrassment as she whispered: “Let’s go, let’s leave here.”
Song Yuhe, seeing her adorable appearance, couldn’t help but cup her face and lightly kiss her cheek. Before she could react, he took her hand and walked toward the city.
Bai Sang Yu didn’t dare raise her head the whole way. Returning to the Bai mansion, she threw off Song Yuhe’s hand and ran to her courtyard.
Shameless!
Bai Sang Yu buried herself in her quilt, randomly kicking at the air, her ears completely red.
The maid Bing Guo stood curiously by the bed, asking what happened – how could she possibly say!
“Miss, I can see Prince Zhen truly likes you. You definitely won’t suffer after marrying him.”
Bai Sang Yu glanced at her: “Last time you said that about Brother Zhao.”
Bing Guo scratched her head embarrassedly: “Mutual affection is most rare. Miss must have a long-lasting relationship with His Highness. It’s just that with such distance between mountains and waters, you might not come back even once a year.”
“His Highness said that after we marry, we’ll come back and live at the Bai mansion in the future, not in the capital.”
“Really?” Bing Guo said joyfully. “For His Highness to say such things, he must truly adore Miss.”
“I don’t know if it’s real either, but just having him say it makes me very happy.”
Bai Sang Yu hugged her quilt, thinking of that stunning first glimpse when she met Song Yuhe.
That day was so wonderful – gentle breeze, bright sunshine, him leaning against the tree with a slight frown.
Just one glance made her heart flutter.
It truly was a stunning first sight.
So when he said he was struck by her at first sight, completely moved, she was overjoyed.
But she was also afraid – afraid he was just saying it.
Later, Bing Guo asked her: What could a prince want from her?
Among the four great passes, Jiasheng Pass had the least influence. If he wanted to compete for power, Jiasheng Pass was the worst choice.
The way he looked at her was full of deep feeling, so deep it was as if she were his lover from a previous life.
Such emotion was puzzling to her, but enough to make her fall.
She was willing to believe that Song Yuhe truly liked her as he claimed.
“Miss, what are you thinking about so intently?” Bing Guo pushed her and asked with a smile. “Could it be His Highness? Does Miss miss His Highness?”
“How shameless of you!” Bai Sang Yu covered her head with the quilt and lay on the bed, ignoring Bing Guo’s chatter in her ear.
The journey back to the capital wasn’t smooth – Song Yuhe encountered assassination attempts.
Those people sought to kill them all. When Bai Sang Yu had taken down three people, she couldn’t dodge a sword thrust from behind in time.
Song Yuhe pulled her into his arms. Though his movement was quick, his arm was still cut.
The sword was poisoned.
Ning Ge told her to quickly take Song Yuhe to the medical clinic to detoxify the poison. He and the hidden guards would deal with these people.
It wasn’t until evening that Ning Ge found them.
The poisoning wasn’t deep and was no longer a concern, but the person was still unconscious.
“Princess, I’m a rough man with clumsy hands. Why don’t you stay tonight to care for His Highness?”
Following their previously agreed script, Ning Ge placed the medicine the physician had brewed on the table and quickly left.
In his heart, he complained about what a terrible idea His Highness had come up with. Fortunately, he had taken the antidote beforehand.
He wondered how many strokes the Empress would give him when this matter reached the palace.
Bai Sang Yu couldn’t get the medicine into him. Remembering the love stories Bing Guo had told her, she gritted her teeth, took a mouthful herself, and kissed Song Yuhe, slowly transferring it to him.
Did it work?
Bai Sang Yu was too embarrassed to open her eyes, naturally not seeing Song Yuhe’s clear, mischievously smiling eyes.
The next day, Song Yuhe opened his eyes to find not Bai Sang Yu, but Ning Ge sitting beside him with a dark expression.
Song Yuhe propped himself up, rubbing his temples as he asked: “Where is the Princess?”
“Your Highness is asking me?” Ning Ge said irritably. He wanted to know what was going on, too. “What exactly did Your Highness do last night? The Princess came out in the middle of the night, saying she absolutely wouldn’t care for Your Highness anymore.”
What had he done?
Song Yuhe frowned. After drinking the medicine last night, he had listened to her rambling analysis of who those assassins might have been. Listening to her chatter, the medicine took effect, and he fell asleep.
He slept until now – what could he have done?
As he was thinking this, Bai Sang Yu entered carrying a medicine bowl, looking perfectly normal.
Ning Ge consciously withdrew.
“Why did you leave last night?” Song Yuhe asked.
Bai Sang Yu sat by the bed: “Men and women are different. If I stayed in Your Highness’s room all night, people would gossip.”
“You’re going to marry me – what gossip could there be?” Song Yuhe took the medicine bowl and asked: “Where are the candied fruits?”
“Is Your Highness still a child, needing candied fruits after taking medicine?”
“I am.”
Only then did Bai Sang Yu smile, taking out wrapped candied fruits from her sleeve and opening them in her palm.
Only then did Song Yuhe smile and drink the medicine, eating a piece of candied fruit.
Very sweet.
By the time they reached the capital, Song Yuhe’s wound had completely healed, leaving only a scar visible on his arm.
Bai Sang Yu asked if he had found out whose handiwork it was. Song Yuhe shook his head, his gaze lowered, and his expression pitiful: “The capital’s power struggles are complex. Too many people want to kill me – I can’t guess.”
Ning Ge twitched his lips and turned away, no longer watching his prince perform this sympathy-seeking act.
When Song Yuhe’s hand was still injured, he always had Bai Sang Yu feed him. Now that it was healed, he had no excuse and gloomily finished a meal. A subordinate came to say they could reach the capital by afternoon.
Song Yuhe saw her nervousness and grasped her hand comfortingly: “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
When the carriage stopped, Bai Sang Yu was helped down by Song Yuhe. Seeing the three characters “Zhen Prince’s Mansion,” she froze: “Your Highness?”
“The journey was tiring. Let’s not enter the palace today – rest for a night and go tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that improper?”
“What’s improper about it?” Song Yuhe pulled her into the mansion. The residence was still as before, unchanged.
For a moment, Song Yuhe was in a trance, thinking that looking toward the North Pavilion, he might see that little girl in a peach-pink dress, delicate as carved jade.
“What is Your Highness looking at?”
“I haven’t been back in so long, I barely recognize it.” Hearing someone call him, Song Yuhe came back to his senses, patted Bai Sang Yu’s head gently: “Since establishing this mansion, I never properly arranged the courtyard. If you have time and get bored, you could help me plan and arrange it.”
“I’m best at that. Tell me your requirements then.”
“No requirements – arrange it according to your preferences.”
“Then I’ll fill in that lake over there and make it a practice area.” Bai Sang Yu pointed to the small lake leading to the South Pavilion.
“As you wish.”
The two chatted and laughed to the master bedroom that had been prepared.
This was originally Song Yuhe’s room. He had specifically written back asking the steward to have it cleaned for Bai Sang Yu.
“Where will Your Highness stay?”
“The side chamber next door.”
“You’re giving me the master bedroom while you stay in the side chamber?” Bai Sang Yu was startled and quickly retreated from the room. “I wouldn’t dare. If others heard about this, there would be more gossip.”
Song Yuhe scooped her up and placed her on the soft couch, bending down to look into her eyes, his hands on her shoulders: “What do others’ words have to do with you? We just need to live our own lives well.”
His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of enchantment. Bai Sang Yu didn’t dare meet his gaze, so she focused on his neck, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Her mouth moved faster than her brain, and she kissed it.
Song Yuhe’s eyes darkened as he narrowed them, his voice heavier: “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Your Highness…” Her deer-like eyes looked at him timidly, but before she could speak, her mouth was sealed.
Song Yuhe’s kiss was intense, conquering territory so she couldn’t escape. Her hands gripped his chest robes tightly as she felt him thread his fingers through her hair, pulling down the ribbon she had tied up for convenience.
Her dark hair fell loose. Bai Sang Yu gently pushed him, but couldn’t move him.
“Your Highness, dinner…” Ning Ge’s voice cut off abruptly as he slowly backed away, trying not to disturb the two in the room.
Taking advantage of Song Yuhe’s momentary laxity, Bai Sang Yu immediately pushed him away, turning her head aside and not looking at him, a red flush rising on her face.
Song Yuhe silently took several deep breaths before speaking in his usual tone: “Tidy up and let’s eat. Rest up first – the rest… We’ll discuss later.”
The… the rest?
Hearing this, Bai Sang Yu’s ears turned red again as she faced away from him without speaking.
The next day, Bai Sang Yu didn’t dare sleep too late and got up early to dress.
Song Yuhe stood at the door waiting for her. Seeing her lift her skirt and run over, spinning in a circle: “Do I look good dressed like this?”
“Devastatingly beautiful.”
“Your Highness is so eloquent.” Bai Sang Yu looked at her dress with satisfaction.
“Bring a cloak for the Princess.”
“I’m not cold…” Bai Sang Yu wanted to refuse, but a gust of wind made her shiver, so she changed her words: “Bring it then.”
When the carriage reached the palace gates, it wasn’t allowed to enter – they could only take a palanquin or walk.
Song Yuhe planned to call for a palanquin, but Bai Sang Yu stopped him: “Let’s walk – it’ll be faster.”
She felt that being late to see the Emperor and Empress would be improper.
Song Yuhe agreed, holding her hand as they walked through the palace, not letting her pull away despite her attempts.
“Your Highness, this is the palace, you…”
“Won’t let go.”
In Fengqi Palace, the Empress and others had been waiting in the hall.
Bai Sang Yu followed Song Yuhe’s movements in greeting them, bowing to each in turn: “This subject’s daughter Bai Sang Yu greets His Majesty, the Empress, Crown Prince, and Princess.”
“Rise quickly,” the Empress gently raised her hand. “Come closer, let me see you.”
Bai Sang Yu stepped forward and was grasped by the Empress’s hands. Meeting her joyful gaze, she was stunned.
Wasn’t their relationship supposed to be strained?
As they were chatting, running footsteps sounded from the doorway. Before seeing anyone, a clear female voice called: “I heard my sister-in-law has come – where is she?”
“This is Ruoyi, rather mischievous.” The Empress whispered to Bai Sang Yu, then sternly addressed the little figure at the door: “No manners at all. Why don’t you pay your respects?”
Though stern in attitude, her eyes were full of love.
“Ruoyi greets Father Emperor, Mother Empress.” Ruoyi obediently bowed, and after being allowed to rise, immediately threw herself into Song Yuhe’s arms: “Imperial Brother, why didn’t you come find me first when you returned to the palace? I missed you so much!”
Song Yuhe lifted her out with one hand, palm against her forehead: “Stand properly.”
The following was someone who shared two parts of resemblance with Song Yuhe. Bai Sang Yu knew him – the current Crown Prince, Song Rongfeng.
Song Rongfeng wore deep blue robes, calmly finishing his bow before pulling Ruoyi aside to sit properly.
“Since everyone’s here, let’s dine together.” The Emperor, who hadn’t spoken, said.
The meal was very harmonious, without the undercurrents Bai Sang Yu had imagined.
Instead, Ruoyi kept talking, apparently having good relationships with both brothers.
Song Yuhe lowered his eyes, hiding his thoughts.
Previously, Ruoyi should have been a year older than Song Rongfeng, but here she was just a ten-year-old child.
This place was indeed different from that other world.
After the meal, the Emperor called Song Yuhe alone to his study for chess. After just half a game, he frowned: “Why has your chess style become so sharp?”
Song Yuhe’s hand paused. He had two sets of memories with Father Emperor.
One was the original him – cold and mutually detesting.
One was the current him – harmonious and loving.
Not knowing how to react, he could only say: “Seeing more naturally brings changes.”
“Are you leaving again after returning this time? Your mother always worries about you.”
“After marrying, I want to take Sang Yu back to Jiasheng Pass. We’ll return for your birthdays.” Song Yuhe answered honestly.
“What sense is there in a prince following his princess away?” The Emperor snorted coldly, placing a black piece that captured Song Yuhe’s white stone, then continued: “Never mind. You’ve always been opinionated since childhood. If you can convince your mother, I’ll allow it.”
After a while, the Emperor spoke again: “Since you’re starting a family, the Empress and I have selected several fiefs. Choose one later – all scenic places. Once you have a fief, you must be benevolent to the people and not act recklessly.”
The current Song Yuhe enjoyed traveling, so even his fiefs were all scenic locations.
Song Yuhe lowered his eyes in agreement.
On the way back, Bai Sang Yu remembered to ask: “Why didn’t Your Highness tell His Majesty about the assassination?”
“Such a small matter isn’t worth mentioning.”
“Attempting to harm Your Highness is a small matter?” Bai Sang Yu frowned, thinking and thinking until a notion arose in her mind. Though it seemed far-fetched and impossible, she asked tentatively: “Is Your Highness’s relationship with His Majesty and the others truly strained as you said?”
“I never said such words.”
“But…” Bai Sang Yu stopped, recalling what he had said that day – indeed, he hadn’t spoken directly.
It was all her imagination.
“Your Highness deceived me!” Bai Sang Yu’s face reddened with anger. “Was the assassination fake, too?”
Song Yuhe felt that sometimes, Bai Sang Yu being so clever wasn’t necessarily good.
After returning to the mansion, Bai Sang Yu jumped down from the carriage herself and huffily returned to the residence, shutting the door to see no one.
No matter how the maids pleaded outside, she remained unmoved.
Song Yuhe sighed lightly and had someone open the window. He climbed through and met Bai Sang Yu’s eyes as she sat on the soft couch.
Bai Sang Yu stared, then burst into laughter before immediately suppressing it, sitting there solemnly: “What does Your Highness want?”
“To apologize to you.”
“How could this humble woman deserve Your Highness’s apology?”
“Deceiving you was real, but the feelings are genuine.” Song Yuhe stood by the window, not angered by her words. “I didn’t know how to gain your consent then, so I used some tactics. A gentleman’s cultivation lies in rectifying his heart within – I deceived you and should apologize. But if my tactics made you agree to marry me, I have no regrets.”
“You!” Bai Sang Yu flung her hand and stood up. “What about the assassination?”
“To gain sympathy.”
“Song Yuhe!” Bai Sang Yu spoke his name in anger, then, realizing it was improper, softened first: “Your Highness…”
Song Yuhe stepped forward and embraced her, his voice gentle: “Let’s not fight anymore, alright? I promise never to deceive you again.”
“You can’t do this next time – it was fake, but you still got yourself hurt. Didn’t it hurt?”
“It hurt. I won’t do it again.”
The wedding was set for the sixth day of the twelfth month, one month later.
An auspicious day for marriage, and enough time for Bai Lizheng’s family to come from Jiasheng Pass.
The Empress sent palace nannies to teach Bai Sang Yu the etiquette of being a principal consort. Though somewhat complex, she learned quickly.
Even the usually strict nannies praised her endlessly.
“Because I care, thinking I can’t embarrass Your Highness, so I must study well.” During meals, Bai Sang Yu smiled as she picked up some fish she liked.
“Who dares think you’re embarrassing? I’ll drag them out and behead them.”
Bai Sang Yu glared at him reproachfully: “Your Highness!”
Song Yuhe smiled at her words and patted Ruoyi’s head as she sat listening to music: “Eat properly.”
“I admire my sister-in-law. You don’t know what kind of blockhead brother was before – now he’s like an iron tree blooming.” Ruoyi wasn’t afraid, speaking with her mouth full: “Sister-in-law, you’re amazing.”
Bai Sang Yu had heard Ruoyi mention several times that many capital ladies had designs on Song Yuhe. Sometimes at palace banquets, outstanding women would hint at him openly or subtly, but Song Yuhe would pretend not to understand.
Once, a young lady held out a sachet until her hand was sore, but Song Yuhe remained motionless. The girl’s eyes reddened, and she didn’t leave home for a month afterward.
Days passed, and as the wedding approached, snow fell in the capital at night.
Bai Sang Yu opened the door to see servants sweeping snow. The goose-feather snowflakes fell on her body – she ran out without even putting on a cloak.
When Song Yuhe arrived, he frowned and wrapped his cloak around her, the hem trailing on the ground.
“Why are you dressed so lightly?”
Bai Sang Yu didn’t answer, only looked up joyfully at the snow, catching a snowflake in her hand: “Look, such big snow. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Song Yuhe stared at her as he answered: “Beautiful.”
That evening, Song Yuhe built a snowman in the courtyard. When Bai Sang Yu returned from her etiquette lesson, the first thing she saw was it.
She ran joyfully to look at the half-person-tall snowman, pointing and laughing: “The nose is made from a jade ruyi – truly a priceless snowman.”
Turning around, she met Song Yuhe’s smiling eyes.
Her heart trembled as she heard Song Yuhe ask: “Do you like it?”
“I like it,” she answered.
After playing, they sat in the corridor watching the snow.
Tonight was windless, with goose-feather snow falling gently, quickly covering the entire courtyard.
Servants brought wine, warming it over the fire. Bai Sang Yu poured a cup and sipped it, her whole body warming up.
She asked: “Your Highness, in this scene, are you happy?”
“Naturally, I’m happy.”
“What brings Your Highness’s happiness?” Bai Sang Yu turned to look at him. The person before her had sword-like brows and starry eyes, handsome as a painting. That first sight under the tree had made her fall in love at first sight.
“Is it me, or her?”
Song Yuhe didn’t understand and glanced at her slightly.
“When Your Highness looks at me, who is the person you remember?”
People in the palace all said Prince Zhen was thirty but had never married, never had a girl by his side – she was the first.
Ruoyi also said her elder brother had always seemed oblivious to matters between men and women, carefree and idle, making the Empress sigh frequently.
But she could feel that whenever Song Yuhe looked at her with a smile, it was as if he were looking through her at another person.
She wanted to know.
That person who trapped Song Yuhe, that person whose name he murmured when injured and having nightmares – who was she?
Who was he asking? “Do you want to be a princess this year?”
“Your Highness once said you wouldn’t deceive me. Now, can you tell me the truth? That girl called Mianmian – who is she?”
Song Yuhe was stunned, not understanding how she knew.
“The night of the assassination, Your Highness had nightmares at midnight, grasping my hand and calling me Mianmian, asking if I wanted to be a princess this year.”
Memories surged like tides – back in Jiangnan when An Mianmian poured wine for him, and he was possessed to ask, “Do you want to be a princess?” Her hand holding the wine had trembled, spilling the clear liquid.
He remembered An Mianmian’s deer-like eyes looking at him, saying word by word: “If Your Highness liked me, even if people mocked my origins, I would be willing.”
He didn’t know how to explain. He wanted to tell her that An Mianmian was her.
But ultimately, they were different.
An Mianmian and Bai Sang Yu were completely different people.
Bai Sang Yu reached up to touch his eyes – this gaze, tender and lingering, deeply affectionate yet unmoving, pierced her heart like a sharp sword.
He wasn’t looking at her but through her at another person.
As if seeking that person’s shadow in her.
“A… former acquaintance of mine.”
“Is she that person? The one who persisted for over ten years only to find it was all wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
“You.”
“Me?”
If she couldn’t see Song Yuhe’s expression, she would think he was lying.
“I have memories opposite to now. In the dream, your father collaborated with enemies and committed treason. I massacred your entire family. Because you resented me, you lurked by my side and finally sent me on my way with a cup of poisoned wine. When you were by my side then, you were called An Mianmian.”
“She loved sweets, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Then, who does Your Highness really like? An Mianmian or Bai Sang Yu?”
Unknowingly, Bai Sang Yu had drunk an entire pot of wine, her cheeks flushed red like porcelain that would shatter at a touch.
“You’re the same person.”
“No, we’re not.”
She wanted to drink more, but Song Yuhe took away her wine cup.
“You’ve had too much. Go back to your room and sleep.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Song Yuhe felt severe pain in his chest as white light blazed around him, so bright he couldn’t open his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw An Mianmian.
She sat in a chair with a calm, reserved demeanor.
Around them was the dilapidated Zhen Prince’s Mansion, with a chessboard and half-eaten mung bean cake on the table.
“I didn’t love you, Song Yuhe.”
He heard An Mianmian speak flatly: “I only have some regrets. If our beginning hadn’t been like that, I think I would have fallen in love with you. Perhaps a stunning glimpse when you left the capital to travel would have stayed in my memory for years.”
“Song Yuhe, what saddens me is that our ending could have been better, yet we were forced to the very end. If our beginning hadn’t been like that, if I had been myself, I think that would have been enough to attract you too.”
This was… after his death?
He wanted to step forward but was pulled back by a force, dragged to the dark, damp prison cell.
He lay on the ground, a scattered wine cup beside his hand.
So that’s how it was.
He had prayed to Buddha, asking to see what An Mianmian was really like.
He had heard what An Mianmian said after his death, so he had this dream.
In the dream, he was an ordinary, carefree prince who traveled mountains and waters, while she was the beloved Bai Sang Yu.
As she had said, if it had been her, it would have been enough to attract him.
In this life of his, full of evil deeds, he could still receive a trace of Buddha’s mercy at the end.
On the verge of death, he seemed to return to Jiangnan, the happiest period of his life.
The New Year was truly lively.
He was pouring wine, smiling as he asked her: “This year, would you like to be a princess?”