This night passed in turmoil and chaos. When Wanwan returned to Grand Princess Manor, it was already past midnight. The servants busily prepared her bed and fumigated the bedding before settling her down. She lay on the large canopy bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Everything she had experienced earlier rolled before her eyes like a wheel. After the initial panic slowly subsided, she didn’t manage to close her eyes until dawn was breaking.
The sound of rain continued pattering through the night without cease, as if returning to the month before her elder brother’s death—the sky was gray, with no sight of sunlight or hope. She lay there, waking every quarter hour. There was no longer an Empress Dowager to serve, and she was the highest-ranking person in this princess manor. If she couldn’t get up, there was no need to force herself—she could recuperate under the covers, perhaps healing faster that way.
Grand Princess Manor was built on Great Gauze Hat Lane, separated from Pearl Lake by just one Chengxian Street. Wanwan had never been this close to the marketplace before. With her eyes closed, she could hear the voices of passersby outside and the crisp jingling of bells on mule and horse bridles.
A long, melodious voice accompanied by the sound of bamboo clappers drifted from afar: “Selling rice wine—osmanthus rice wine…” It was distinctly Wu dialect, and even coming from a man’s mouth, it had a soft, gentle quality.
Wanwan knew about rice wine—it was sweet wine. The palace consorts had a folk remedy: after cooking it, they would crack an egg into it, supposedly having breast-enhancing properties. She had tasted it at Yin Luo’s place—very sweet and refreshing, especially that flavor, completely different from regular wine. Unfortunately, her alcohol tolerance was too poor; after drinking just one small cup, she had slept for most of the day. She truly couldn’t touch a drop of alcohol.
The street vendor’s call entered her ears, and she could almost immediately smell it, even the pillow seeming to be filled with that sweet fragrance.
Her life had many incomplete aspects, but being able to travel this far through marriage and settle here was something to be grateful for. She quietly listened to the coming and going of people outside, even able to distinguish the sound of raindrops hitting oil cloth. She wondered if the rain had gotten heavier—someone was approaching with an umbrella, reaching the covered walkway.
“Is she up?” It was Nanny Qin’s voice from the second gate.
Xiao You said no: “After the commotion until the fourth watch last night, she just closed her eyes when dawn came. Let her sleep a bit longer.”
“What should we do… something’s happened outside, and Her Highness really needs to see for herself.”
Xiao You snorted: “Another scheme from Prince Nanyuan’s mansion? Don’t think people are fools. After yesterday’s earth-shaking drama, today they’re probably using tricks to get closer. Nanny still believes that!”
Nanny Qin said it wasn’t so: “The two young masters came to pay respects to Her Highness. When they reached Pearl Bridge, the second young master’s horse was spooked and he was thrown into the river. The eldest young master jumped in to save him—both boys ended up like drowned chickens… In this weather, getting caught in rain can make you sick, let alone falling into water! Fortunately, they’re both fine, just chattering teeth from the cold. They looked pitiful when they came in. I say, regardless of anything else, they came to pay respects to Her Highness. If something had gone wrong, it would be hard to explain to the other side…”
Xiao You was stunned but still insisted: “Could there really be such a coincidence in this world? I think some mastermind gave them guidance.”
Nanny Qin absolutely disagreed: “Adults using a desperate stratagem is one thing, but these are seven or eight-year-old children. If things went wrong, they could have lost their lives—who would teach them such things! You have a sharp tongue but a soft heart. If you’re fortunate enough to marry and have children in the future, I’ll see if you still talk like this!”
While they were still arguing, Wanwan had already put on her clothes and come out.
“Where are they now? Is it serious?”
Nanny Qin said: “Steward Yu arranged for them to rest in the front side room and sent for a physician to check their pulses. I don’t know if they’re well or not—I came here to report first.”
Without hearing the rest, she hurried toward the front. No matter how unpleasant her relationship with Yuwen Liangshi, it had nothing to do with the children. The children had come to fulfill their filial duties—if something really happened to them, she couldn’t live with herself.
Many people waited outside the side room door—some from Grand Princess Manor and some accompanying guards. Seeing her approach, they quickly made way and bowed to her. She couldn’t be bothered with formalities and went straight into the room to ask about the situation. Yu Qixia bowed and said: “Please don’t worry, Your Highness. The two young masters were frightened and choked on some water, but their bodies are temporarily unharmed. However, we must watch them—if they don’t develop fever by this afternoon, there should be nothing serious.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and went forward to touch both children’s heads, asking gently: “Nothing hurts, does it? If you feel uncomfortable anywhere, be sure to tell the physician.”
Lan Ting shook his head and said no: “Thank you for your concern, Stepmother.”
Lan Zhou struggled to get up, kneeling on the bed to bow to her: “We sons came to pay our respects to Stepmother, but unexpectedly this accident occurred, causing Stepmother to worry about us instead. We sons deserve death.”
With his little adult manner, Wanwan felt both love and pity: “That’s not how to speak. You had me in your hearts, which is why you braved the rain to see me. The roads were difficult—when accidents happen, how could I explain to the Dowager Consort! Since you’re both safe, be more careful in the future. When the wind and rain are heavy, you needn’t come over. I know your filial hearts.”
But Lan Zhou was quite stubborn: “Father taught us from childhood to observe filial piety—morning and evening attendance before elders, not missing a single day. Stepmother’s care for us sons is our good fortune, but if we sons became spoiled and unreasonable because of Stepmother’s love, then we sons would deserve death.”
Seeing his brother, Lan Ting quickly imitated him, kneeling on the bed saying “we sons deserve death.” Wanwan couldn’t help but laugh—such small children, taught to be so proper in every way, it really wasn’t easy. She quickly comforted them: “Alright, alright, let’s not talk about that now. Lie down and warm your bodies first before worrying about anything else. You won’t go to school today, and we must send someone to report back and give the Dowager Consort peace of mind.”
Lan Zhou looked toward the door, and his personal servant immediately began crying: “This slave will go. Young Master should rest well. But when the Old Dowager learns of this, she’ll probably be frantic with worry. Young Master has had asthma since childhood. Last time the old monk’s overseas prescription cured it, saying he mustn’t catch cold for three years. Now look—two years of care, all wasted. Who knows what will happen next.”
Wanwan was startled and turned to ask Lan Zhou: “You’re not well? You have asthma too?”
He smiled: “Don’t listen to his exaggerating, Stepmother. I do have breathing problems—it was serious when I was small, flaring up whenever the weather changed, but gradually it’s gotten much better…” While speaking, he glared at the servant: “Changbao, if you keep talking nonsense, see if I don’t beat you!”
Changbao rubbed his nose and agreed meekly, backing up two steps before adding: “Anyway, he can’t catch cold again. If cold air gets into his lungs, he’ll be finished for life. Remember the Old Lady’s words.”
Hearing this, Wanwan found it difficult—a perfectly good child with such a health problem. She quickly called for the physician to examine him again. The physician’s opinion was that without an attack, nothing could be seen temporarily—they’d have to wait for him to have breathing difficulties before prescribing the right medicine.
She stood there frowning, waving her hand to dismiss everyone. A maid brought a porcelain stool, and she sat by the bed asking: “Why didn’t you take sedan chairs when you came? In such bad weather, still riding horses—even wearing oiled clothes wouldn’t work.”
Lan Ting smiled, revealing his toothless gums: “We brothers are men—only women ride in sedan chairs!”
Lan Zhou found him rude and kept giving him looks. Seeing this, Lan Ting stopped talking and rolled to the inner side of the bed.
Lan Zhou was still articulate: “Today somehow, when we reached the bridge, the wind was particularly strong. Ting got something in his eye and, his horsemanship being poor anyway, couldn’t control the reins. The piebald horse lost its footing and threw him down. Seeing the urgent situation, I didn’t have time to think and jumped in after him, so both of us ended up in a mess, making fools of ourselves before Stepmother. Please punish us, Stepmother.”
Of course, she wouldn’t know that Lan Ting’s horse losing its footing was because he had shot its leg, and that both boys had been good swimmers since childhood—diving down, they could easily collect a basket of mussels and snails from the riverbed. It was just that falling into water this time of year was a bit cold, but without this premise, staying at Grand Princess Manor would have been difficult. As for the asthma, it was all Changbao’s nonsense—he was famously healthy, never having been sick from birth. Let alone early spring swimming—even diving into rivers in deep winter was nothing special.
He coughed twice quite fittingly, and Lan Ting behind him also followed with coughing sounds. Wanwan panicked and turned to send someone: “Quickly brew ginger soup for the two young masters to dispel the cold.” While settling them down to sleep: “Good children, you’ve really suffered. I didn’t know earlier—when Nanny came to report, I first heard you’d fallen into the water and was truly frightened. You’re so well-behaved—how could I punish you? Just rest. Don’t go back today to avoid the hardship of traveling—your bodies can’t take it.”
Lan Zhou knocked on the bed board to show he was kowtowing in gratitude: “Father is strict, but Stepmother treats us sons well. I have another thought and would like Stepmother’s guidance.”
Wanwan nodded: “Speak. Whatever it is, we’ll discuss it together.”
He licked his lips: “Stepmother lives alone at Grand Princess Manor. Though the mansion has strict security, it’s ultimately lonely. Asking Stepmother to return to the prince’s mansion now, she probably won’t agree. I was thinking—either I or Ting could stay behind. First, to fulfill filial duties before Stepmother; second, to represent Father in supporting Stepmother’s household—it would also be a test for us sons.”
Hearing all this, Wanwan was surprised by his clear reasoning. This child was only eight years old—even with special tutoring, he might not remember everything. Yet here he was, every word carefully considered, not falling short even compared to the princes in the palace.
Yuwen Liangshi might not be much as a person, but his children were talented—truly fine bricks from a poor kiln. She smiled and stroked his forehead: “You’ve thought very thoroughly. We’ll discuss this matter later. You need to rest well now—recovering your health is most important. I heard the boy mention some overseas prescription earlier—should we have someone prepare the formula and continue with two more doses?”
He shook his head, his delicate little face with big blinking eyes ringed with golden circles, exactly like his father’s.
“That prescription is long gone. The monk said after finishing ten doses, there was no need to keep it—it would naturally be cured.” Then he smiled, showing a pair of sharp little canine teeth: “Don’t worry about me, Stepmother. I’m strong and sturdy—this little hardship is nothing.”
Girls were indeed kind-hearted. This Grand Princess wasn’t as imperious as he’d expected—no wonder Father liked her so much. And her hands—soft and warm. He’d never known women’s hands were like this, falling on his forehead light as a feather. It was the kind of tranquil serenity cultivated by supreme honor and privilege, too beautiful, arousing jealousy and resentment.
She sat a while longer, talking with him back and forth in gentle tones without any pretentious airs. She told him to be obedient, not to get out of bed today, to lie there with his brother while food and drink were brought to them. Perhaps this was wisdom she’d gained from over ten years of experience—when sad, go to bed; when frightened, go to bed; when sick, definitely go to bed. Nestling in bedding was the best therapy.
After she left, Lan Ting poked his head out: “Brother, this stepmother doesn’t seem bad.”
Lan Zhou glanced back at him: “What stepmother? According to proper rank, she’s closer to us than our birth mothers.”
“Rank is just an empty framework. Anyway, I don’t think she’s better than my birth mother. My birth mother suits my temperament—I’ll be filial to her in the future.”
“You won’t be filial to this one? The clan members will drown you in spit!”
Lan Ting pillowed his head on his arms and crossed his legs: “No school today, letting us lie in bed—’when the old man loses his horse, who knows if it’s a blessing?’ It was just a bit cold when we fell in the water and nearly froze me to death… Do you think she’ll let us stay?”
Lan Zhou frowned thoughtfully: “Both of us staying is impossible—after all, we still need to attend morning and evening duties at the prince’s mansion.” After thinking: “If only one can be chosen, I should stay.”
Lan Ting asked why: “Father just praised you as his right-hand man. If you stay at Grand Princess Manor, won’t you ignore military affairs?”
He was truly in awe of this brother: “What do you do all day? Just know how to ride little bamboo sticks playing Changban Slope battles. You should serve Father too. As for why I’m the one staying—because I’m cleverer than you and can help Father by beating the drums from the sidelines. You? Your heart is set on being filial to your birth mother. Without the resolve to be a filial son and virtuous grandson, don’t make trouble here.”
Lan Ting had nothing to say, thinking to himself: You just want to acknowledge Grand Princess as mother. When you’re closer to the sky in the future, you’ll want to reach for the moon! But he dared not say it aloud—speaking up would mean another beating, not worth the loss. For someone without much ambition, hiding behind was always safest. Today’s life-risking companionship, falling into water together, would probably be the end of his involvement.
On Wanwan’s side, she received a letter from the palace—written by the Emperor to her in the form of a family letter, enclosed in an envelope respectfully addressed to “Imperial Sister, Personally Open.”
Opening a window, she leaned against it to read. Outside, banana leaves rustled as she rested her chin in her hand, reading line by line. He said that after her departure from the palace for over a month, he as her brother missed her greatly. Thinking back to their carefree childhood with their parents, now the burden of state and society left him breathless. The Empress was ill, possessed by evil spirits, sometimes better, sometimes worse—a few days ago she couldn’t even recognize people. Last time she removed her phoenix crown, ground the pearls large and small into rice powder, and in a fit of generosity, distributed it to all the palace consorts for face powder. Sometimes she even hit people. When he went to see her once, she chased him around the world with a peach wood sword—the Empress was a martial maniac. He was very troubled now, not knowing what to do in the future. Having invested an Empress was worse than having none—she couldn’t even manage herself, let alone be expected to be a model for the realm. Finally, he asked after his little sister’s well-being: Were the meals in Nanyuan to her taste? Was the prince consort treating her well? He was sending two cooks with the letter—he had personally tasted their cooking and their skills were exceptional.
Wanwan sat there, not recovering her senses for a long time. Thinking carefully, her nose stung with sourness. Yin Luo had gone mad, probably driven insane by desperate circumstances. She had been fine the day Wanwan married down, saying many words to comfort her, yet when things fell on her own head, she couldn’t think clearly. They were scattered in two places, each suffering their own hardships—who could save whom? Without letters from her, Wanwan could only learn indirectly through the Emperor’s family letter, unable even to write words of comfort. As for the Emperor… this brother was always surprising. There were those who sent gold and silver, but she’d never seen anyone send two cooks across thousands of miles. Calling him absurd—he was genuinely thinking of you, just able to care for your palate but not your happiness.
She went to her writing desk to grind ink and take up her brush, naturally reporting good news but not bad, saying the climate agreed with her and she liked Jiangnan’s mountains, waters, and marketplace. The prince consort treated her extremely well, the Dowager Consort was kind and amiable, everything was going smoothly—please don’t worry, Your Majesty. Yin Luo was unsuited for the Empress position; Your Majesty need not be obsessed—please consider the greater good and choose another worthy person.
Tonghuan attended to the ink and brush beside her. Seeing her advise this way, she smiled: “Your Highness’s heart truly holds the realm at all times.”
She set down her brush, waiting for the ink to dry, and said sadly: “Though sisterly affection from the boudoir is important, compared to state and society, it’s ultimately limited. Yin Luo should never have become Empress. Sitting on that throne wasn’t good fortune for her but became shackles instead. She’s gone mad…” She sobbed softly: “She’s not narrow-minded—how did she go mad… Perhaps she wants to yield the position and is deliberately pretending.”
Tonghuan pressed her lips together in silence. Many times she seemed overly perceptive—not that perceptiveness was bad, but misusing it hurt others and herself.
After sealing the letter and having it sent out—since it was all family talk, she wasn’t afraid of interception. Just as she finished handling this, word came from the front that the eldest young master was running a fever and seemed about to fall ill.
She got up immediately and hurried over, asking how the second young master was. The servants said the second young master was fine, bouncing around and picking Chinese toon buds with people.
“Has no one come from the prince’s mansion?”
Yu Qixia said: “The Old Dowager sent word—if Your Highness asks, say boys are tough and as long as they’re not dead, there’s no need for alarm.”
Wanwan found this incredible: “The old lady’s heart is too big. People fell from a bridge into a river, and she doesn’t care at all?”
Tonghuan smiled: “It’s precisely because the Old Dowager dotes on you. Doing this shows her position—after all, both young masters are concubine-born. Making them seem precious before you would put you in an awkward position. Raising them like cats and dogs, it all depends on your will. Knowing you’re loving and magnanimous and won’t make things difficult for children, they naturally let go, preventing you from misunderstanding and thinking the legitimate mother is troublesome.”
Hearing this, she smiled faintly: “The people of Prince Nanyuan’s mansion are indeed all good at scheming. To make me comfortable, they’d even ignore the children’s lives. I know her thoughts—the two young masters lead the charge so others can act afterward. Too bad I don’t fall for that. Even if he came, I’d still refuse him entry.”
Having spoken angrily, she realized these words were premature. Stepping into the side room, someone was already by Lan Zhou’s bed—wearing dark blue regular robes with a phoenix belt at his waist, python dragons fierce on his wide sleeves, standing there solid as a mountain.
Her heart shook greatly. Just as she was about to turn around, he quickly called to stop her, bowing with cupped hands: “Lan Zhou is ill and temporarily shouldn’t be moved. Originally, Tala Shi should have been summoned to care for him, but fearing a concubine might be presumptuous and offend Your Highness, after much consideration, it’s better I personally attend to him. So starting today, we’ll need to borrow Your Highness’s precious space. Please grant us this convenience and take in us father and son.”