Looking from afar at Shunzhen Gate without conversation, as if nothing had happened. A princess’s marriage was far more challenging than that of ordinary girls. Sometimes she heard the concubines speak of their siblings outside the palace—young men and women who were already betrothed could still secretly meet when their families weren’t watching. After all, private residences weren’t like the imperial court, and if they wanted to meet, they could always find opportunities. They were different; aside from her audaciously sneaking out of the palace, they basically had no chances to spend time together.
When Wanwan returned to Yude Palace, Xiao Duo was already waiting for her under the eaves. His vermillion court robe against the snow accumulated on the steps was so brilliantly striking it hurt the eyes. “The flowers of Luoyang are beautiful, but they are not mine.” She sighed inwardly. Now that her betrothal to the Prince of Nanyuan was settled, this melancholy only increased. Perhaps all girls awaiting marriage felt this way!
She must properly control herself. As the Empress Dowager had said, now that she belonged to someone else, she should rein in her heart.
She smiled, feeling quite proper: “Why has the Directorate come here?”
At dusk, with the poor weather, there was an even more desolate feeling. She wore light furs, her eyes and brows appearing distant and indifferent—very different from before. Xiao Duo was slightly stunned, then cupped his hands and bowed to her: “This subject heard that Your Highness went to the Directorate of Ceremonial today. Was it to find this subject?”
Indeed it was to find him, but somehow, now it no longer seemed important. She tilted her head thoughtfully: “It wasn’t specifically to find you. I just wanted to go out of the palace for a walk and happened to arrive there, so I went in to see if you had returned.”
As she spoke, she lifted her skirt hem to climb the steps, brushing past him and leaving behind a faint, light fragrance.
After removing her cloak and sitting on the throne to wash her hands, he followed inside to attend to her with towels and combs. Several times he looked at her as if wanting to speak but stopping himself. Wanwan knew in her heart that it was nothing more than sympathy for her situation regarding the marriage bestowed to the Prince of Nanyuan. If she appeared grief-stricken, it would only worry him more, so she put on an air of casual indifference and teasingly said with three parts playfulness: “In the past, I had many miscellaneous affairs and often relied on you to handle everything for me. Now that I’m going to marry out, the Director will be bored with nothing to do in the future. What will you do then?”
Seeing she showed no signs of sadness, half the weight in his heart lifted, though his voice carried a faint trace of parting sorrow: “Jinling is several thousand li from here. After Your Highness goes there, don’t stay too long. This subject will prepare the Princess Manor for Your Highness. If Your Highness finds it uncomfortable there, please come back.”
Wanwan said good: “Yin Luo went to Jinling last time and always praised its clear mountains and beautiful waters when she returned. I’d like to see it too. I’ve grown up in the Forbidden City since childhood and don’t know what the outside world is like. Marrying far away this time is also good. It’s just that I can’t bear to leave this bedchamber, and also…” She looked longingly around the palace’s architecture and furnishings, then her gaze settled on him, “the person who has always looked after me. I lost my parents when I was six. Though my brother loves me dearly, I was still often lonely. Later I met the Director. When you came to manage affairs in my palace, I’m not ashamed to say that at first I was afraid of you, but gradually I came to know you were a good person.”
When she spoke, her voice was calm and peaceful. Mentioning the past, her face carried a shy smile, but in the end, she was still dejected: “I originally wanted to stay a few more years. I still remember the Princess Huyang that Imperial Grandmother adopted before—she seemed to wait until twenty-three before marrying. Why am I being hastily sent away at just fifteen? His Majesty ordered that during national mourning, days should count as months. I still feel uncomfortable about it. At least wait until the full three years are completed before sending me out, but unfortunately…”
She smiled while frowning, shaking her head like an elderly person reluctant to blame a younger generation’s hasty, rash decisions. Xiao Duo watched her quietly, feeling guilty about his inability to help her stay. People living in this world all had difficulties, each with unknown hardships. Though he so wanted to protect her, when he himself was in dire straits, he still chose to preserve himself.
The higher one’s position, the less freedom one had—like climbing a ladder, wanting to return the same way after reaching the top was incredibly difficult. Born into the imperial family, she had long understood this principle.
What could he do? Only advise her: “Your Highness has met the Prince of Nanyuan several times and has probably seen his calm composure and gentle refinement. His Majesty’s arranged marriage appears quite suitable on the surface, and this subject also hopes Your Highness will live well. But Your Highness, your marriage is different from others. Between husband and wife, don’t forget to keep three parts vigilance. Please remember this subject’s words.”
Wanwan’s heart sank as she nodded: “I will remember carefully. You needn’t worry about me.”
For a moment he seemed to run out of topics, falling silent before saying: “All matters concerning Your Highness’s marriage will be personally handled by this subject. I will never let Your Highness suffer the slightest grievance. This subject… has had shortcomings in the past and wronged Your Highness. Please forgive this subject’s sins.”
He knelt down in obeisance, startling Wanwan into quickly descending from the throne to help him up: “The Director has looked after everything for me these years. What shortcomings could there be?” Thinking again, she laughed: “Earlier the Empress Dowager was in tears, and now you’re like this too. I’m merely betrothed, not going to be executed. Why are you all making me so anxious? The edict said marriage in spring—there are still two months. Don’t make it seem like a life-and-death separation.”
Her words were like prophecy, making Xiao Duo’s heart tremble. Looking at her carefully, since she turned thirteen, because of her status, he hadn’t dared look directly at her like this. Only today did he suddenly discover that the young plum had grown into bloom—she was already a grown young lady.
Wanwan smiled shyly: “Director, am I beautiful?”
He was slightly dazed, then nodded and said she was beautiful: “Your Highness has natural grace and is Daye’s most beautiful princess.”
She giggled: “Of course! Daye now has only one princess—me—so naturally I’m the most beautiful.”
She turned back, her skirts fluttering as she returned to her seat: “As for my wedding, please keep it simple. The national treasury is currently empty and can’t withstand major expenses. Don’t burden the people and waste money for just one person—it’s not worth it.”
While the Emperor was cultivating the Dao and making elixirs, he was still planning to build a Star-Plucking Tower over a hundred zhang high. Yet she wanted to keep simple the one great event of her lifetime, her heart truly always concerned for the realm. The more she was like this, the harder it was to let her go. If great disaster struck someday, who knew how she would handle herself…
Xiao Duo lowered his lute sleeves, filled with indescribable melancholy. How to arrange things for her was his own concern, just inconvenient to say much. He cupped his hands: “It’s getting late, and the palace gates will be locked soon. This subject takes his leave.”
She stood up: “I’ll see you to the gate.”
This time he didn’t refuse, only gestured for her to lead the way. She stood beside him—tall now, nearly reaching his shoulders. The distance from the hall door to the palace gate was considerable. They walked it slowly together. In all these years, this was the only time, and possibly the last.
With each step Wanwan took, tears gathered a bit more. She had always wanted to make a clean break, and choosing today was most beneficial.
Between heaven and earth, wind and snow raged. She stood under the painted eaves, her complexion warm. Looking down, she pointed to the prayer beads on his wrist: “Give me this. I like it.”
Hearing this, he removed the prayer beads—108 heavy amber beads—and handed them to her: “If Your Highness likes them, keep them as a memento.”
She touched the pair of dzi stone pendants: “I only want this.”
Only wanting a small part, not the whole—she was never an extreme person.
He said good and removed them, placing them in her palm. He had thousands of words stuck in his throat, difficult to pour out.
She tightly gripped the pair of pendants, murmuring: “My prayer beads were missing just this. Ten-eyed silk-pattern stones are truly rare.”
A princess—what kind of treasures hadn’t she seen? She still remembered playing with the servants as a child, pouring a whole box of pearls and gems on the floor to play marbles, finally collecting only about half the box back. Some were lost forever. She knew they had been stolen but didn’t mention it, afraid of making the palace like a prison. Now coveting his dzi stones wasn’t for their rarity, but as he said, to keep as a memento, because there might not be another chance in the future.
Satisfied, she called for a young eunuch to give him an umbrella: “This is far enough. Director, travel safely.”
He bowed to her, winding the prayer beads around his wrist circle by circle again. Without the pendants, it seemed somewhat lonely and incomplete.
He stepped out of the palace gate. Wanwan watched him until he entered the corridor, then withdrew her gaze and had the doors closed.
Two more months—two months until the marriage. Time-wise, it seemed rushed. Outside was busy chaos, but hiding in Yude Palace, she didn’t know. She only heard that Yin Ge was now openly accompanying the Emperor everywhere. When Xiao You mentioned this, her face was full of disdain: “Truly unbearable to watch. His Majesty is also too hasty. He doesn’t care for his own face or Your Highness’s face?”
Wanwan didn’t respond. She didn’t even want to hear about their sordid affairs.
Because of the upcoming grand wedding, Yuwen Liangshi stayed in the capital several extra days. Various protocols for the princess’s marriage required special instruction. Daye had no precedent of a princess marrying a feudal prince, so the entire process of accompanying the prince consort to his fief had to be newly created. The details were overwhelming and gave him headaches. Even so, he could still have people send small gifts in, even going to Fragrant Hills specifically to gather maple leaves and compose poetry on them—quite like someone genuinely courting.
Wanwan’s feelings toward him were really hard to describe. That day he could endure her tormenting him so, showing he was someone with deep, still waters. Now he was so lively and skilled at pleasing—which one was the real him was impossible to fathom. But girls usually couldn’t resist coaxing, and with the grand wedding just ahead, she settled into peaceful, quiet contentment.
“I think this prince consort is not bad,” Xiao You evaluated. “Good or bad, I don’t see him having great ups and downs. When master made him stand as punishment, he really stood outside Shunzhen Gate for so long. When I went, he was so cold his lips were purple. He’s also a precious person, showing he’s never suffered such hardship.”
Tonghuan had an attitude of letting the winds blow from all directions: “Regardless of whether that feudal prince is some extraordinary figure, as long as he’s good to Your Highness, everything can be discussed.”
The Ministry of Rites’ grand wedding procedures were finalized. The princess would travel by water route—twenty ships decorated in red would serve as the main fleet, with another eighty patrol boats providing escort fore and aft. Compared to this, even ten li of red wedding gifts wouldn’t be worth looking at. As for the prince consort, there was no precedent for wedding ceremonies in the capital—he needed to return to his fief to receive the Grand Princess’s arrival, so the status of feudal princes could be seen from this matter.
The wedding date drew ever closer. There were basically no requirements for Wanwan except for the supervising nanny who would accompany her after marriage to teach her about bedroom matters. Otherwise, she was the same as before.
That day, the Emperor sent someone to summon her to discuss the Nanjing Princess Manor, since princesses upon marriage mostly didn’t enter their husbands’ residences, thus showing the distinction between ruler and subject. Wanwan’s intention was not to trouble anyone—expenses that could be reduced should be reduced. The Emperor was someone who desperately cared about face, so only her personal refusal would be effective.
Throughout history, many emperors dreamed of becoming immortals. The current Emperor Mingzhi had placed all his hopes in reality, following some Daoist of unknown origin to cultivate the Way. The West Sea Park area had become his training ground. He no longer lived in the Forbidden City but moved there to make elixirs all day, creating a smoky, chaotic atmosphere. When Wanwan was summoned for audience, she also had to cross from the embankment. Upon reaching Taisu Hall, they said he was at North Pond learning meditation from the True Master. She had to wait for him.
The decoration here was quite different from the palace—no ornate beams and painted pillars, no exquisite furnishings. Even the curtains and hangings were plain, quite having the appearance of Daoist immortal style. It was said the Emperor wanted to eliminate distracting thoughts, so only one or two eunuchs remained to serve. When she arrived here, forget about tea and refreshments—there wasn’t even anyone to pay respects. She walked around and saw no chairs, only thick mats arranged along the walls. Fortunately, there were heating pipes underground—while His Majesty returned to simplicity, he wouldn’t mistreat himself.
Wanwan walked over and sat cross-legged on the cushions, immediately smiling—it was actually quite interesting.
Turning to look at the calligraphy and paintings on the walls, all the Emperor’s personal work, Wanwan understood some poetry and began carefully studying them. Just as she was absorbed, she suddenly heard someone behind a landscape screen take a sharp breath, followed by another voice: “Master is awake? Your back is sore again?”
Wanwan immediately recognized who it was and couldn’t help frowning. As she was about to get up and leave, Yin Ge asked: “Did the prince return south today?”
The servant replied yes: “The grand wedding is right ahead. If he doesn’t return to prepare, he might not make it in time.”
Yin Ge snorted with laughter, drawing out her words. Even from far away, one could feel the coldness in her voice: “Now he’s finally gotten his wish. I’ve lived this long and never seen someone so calculating. Not just me—even those who bore him children aren’t necessarily any better off than I am. Trading me for the Grand Princess—truly a profitable venture. Her Highness the Grand Princess is pitiful, falling into his schemes. As for me, I’m now with His Majesty. Now that there’s a little one in my belly, I look down on Yin Luo’s Consort position. My son will be crown prince someday…”