The plum rain season dragged on for a very long time, with continuous rainfall as if the sky was about to leak. At first, she had been in the mood to listen to the wind and appreciate the rain, but gradually it became boring. Wanwan’s patience was nearly exhausted, and she almost ordered someone to prepare a boat, planning to escape this damp southern region, when one day it finally cleared up.

Sunlight broke through the sky, shooting straight down from the edges of the clouds. She stood on the stone steps, feeling an unprecedented joy at that moment, and even the gloom in her heart dispersed.

A servant woman who had just finished ironing clothes and delivered them to the main quarters stopped in her tracks, glanced outside, and breathed a great sigh of relief. “Good heavens, after more than half a month, we can finally see the sun!” She hurriedly called to the young maid following behind her, “Keep watching for another half hour, and if the weather doesn’t change, have a few people set up the racks. The bedding and clothes all need to be aired out and see some light. This southern climate is truly peculiar – they said it was warmer than Beijing, but who would have thought the sky had a hole in it, all this rain…” As she spoke, she walked toward the other end of the corridor.

Wanwan stretched out both sleeves and closed her eyes. The light was warm, so comfortable shining on her face. She took a deep, satisfying breath – the air carried the scent of sunshine, accompanied by a gentle breeze brushing across her cheek. She had never felt so light and free.

“Mother,” came Lan Zhou’s voice from behind her. “I’ve finished all my studies. Please review them, Mother.”

She remained immersed in the moment, smiling as she said to wait a while. “I’m sunbathing.”

She was like a flower after a long drought, eagerly absorbing warmth. Her young face turned toward the sun, her lips bright red, her eyelashes long and fine, her skin so delicate it was almost translucent in the light.

Lan Zhou, holding his rolled-up books, asked her, “What is ‘the old gentleman’?”

She said the old gentleman was the sun. “You southerners don’t understand – Beijing has many local expressions that you can’t comprehend at all without someone explaining them. Like when you’re learning opera and your master says you ‘sang early,’ it means you started the tune too high. And those performers at Tianqiao who have no real skills and rely on their mouths to make a living – there’s a name for that too, called ‘digging cakes from flat ground.'”

These terms were indeed rarely heard. Lan Zhou tilted his head and asked, “Has Mother ever been to Tianqiao?”

She made an “mm” sound: “No, I heard it from the young eunuchs. There are many interesting things at Tianqiao. When there’s a chance in the future, I’ll take you and Brother Ting to play there.”

Lan Zhou leaned against a pillar and laughed, “Mother wants to play there herself, doesn’t she?”

She didn’t hide it, squinting as she said yes. “I grew up so big without ever leaving the Forbidden City much. Later when I married your father, it was from the palace to the mansion, and all I saw along the way was water – I haven’t seen much of the world.” She finished speaking and looked back at him. “I’ve been wanting to ask you – why do all the people in the prince’s mansion speak with Beijing accents? The Yuwen family has been enfeoffed for over two hundred years. If I hadn’t seen that the fief was in Nanjing, I would have thought I was back in Beijing.” She laughed and imitated for him, “Ah dong ah, and ‘opposite,’ ‘fetal qi’… Nanjing dialect – I can’t understand it at all.”

Lan Zhou put his hands behind his back and said, “Mother doesn’t know – the Dowager Consort in our mansion is from Beijing. When she originally married the late prince, she brought over twenty companion maids and servants. These people took root in the mansion, and gradually the northern accent became popular in the mansion, and even we younger generation learned it.”

These were actually just polite explanations that could roughly account for things. The truth was that every generation of Yuwen princes ultimately married wives who were authentic Beijing natives as their primary consorts. It wasn’t for any other reason – they couldn’t let future descendants lose their connection with the capital. When you need to go to the capital, to speak and socialize, you must be able to communicate with people. At critical moments, if he speaks his Beijing dialect and you speak your Wu dialect, talking at cross purposes, you’d need a special interpreter in between, making everything cumbersome. But ultimately living in the south, going out and hearing Jiangnan dialect everywhere, some expressions weren’t as pure as authentic Beijing natives – like the “old gentleman” and “digging cakes from flat ground” she mentioned, some he had never heard of.

“The Dowager Consort has stayed in Nanyuan too long and sometimes lacks some flavor. From now on, I’ll learn from Mother…”

Wanwan laughed and said, “Stop right there. Just talking about this word ‘learn’ – Beijing is also divided into mansion pronunciation and alley pronunciation. Official speech still pronounces it ‘xue,’ but colloquial speech pronounces it ‘xiao.’ I grew up in the palace, so I speak more official language. If you want to learn the most authentic dialect, you’d need to apprentice under those opera singers.” She smoothed his topknot, “In my opinion, learning official speech is enough. If you learn too properly, be careful people will laugh at you and treat you like a Tianqiao performer.”

Even when discussing the most pleasant topics, the smile on her face remained self-possessed. Lan Zhou had been ill for two days, and she had personally cared for him. Because she saw him as young, even after he recovered, she didn’t make him move out of the rear courtyard. This business of legitimate mother and concubine-born son wasn’t as rigid and harsh as he had previously imagined. Her temperament was very easygoing, and she could get along well with anyone – except, of course, his father. Originally he had said Bu Yin Ge couldn’t be kept, and his father still wanted to use her to control Bu Yin Luo, but in the end, after wavering, he trapped himself.

He squeezed out a bright smile, “Mother must have been bored in the palace, right? What did you do for entertainment in spring?”

She thought for a moment, “Raise pigeons, fly kites. Beijing people all love flying kites. Some attach whistles and wind lanterns to the kites, sending a centipede up to the sky at night – it’s lively all night long. Unfortunately, those lantern kites that fall down easily cause fires, so later the capital prohibited them, no longer allowing them to be flown.”

He nodded, “I don’t know if the servants told you, but the day after tomorrow is Father’s birthday. The prince’s mansion will host a banquet and has invited an opera troupe to perform evening shows. Tomorrow the mansion’s secondary consorts will come kowtow to you and ask you to return to the prince’s mansion to preside over things. I was thinking, when we have free time, I’ll accompany you to fly kites. Whatever kind you like, I’ll have people make it fresh.”

Hearing this, Wanwan paused slightly. Speaking of Yuwen Liangshi, she really hadn’t seen him for about ten days. Last time Rong Bao said the Qiantang River had burst its banks, and he went there to plug the breach. How could he be gone so long with still no news…

She hesitantly asked, “How can we manage your father’s birthday when he’s not here?”

Lan Zhou blinked his pair of pure, large eyes and said, “Father is returning this afternoon. How come no one told you?” As he spoke, he became annoyed, “What kind of servants are these, keeping such important matters from their superiors – what’s the meaning of this!”

Wanwan felt a bit embarrassed – she was the one who had forbidden them from reporting news about Yuwen Liangshi, so she knew nothing about his birthday or his movements.

“Mother will honor us with your presence, won’t you?” Lan Zhou looked up and asked her, “Everyone knows Father married a princess. If you don’t attend his birthday, who knows what rumors will spread outside.”

Naturally, appearances had to be maintained, and she couldn’t forget her proper obligations. She turned and called to Tonghuan, “Tell Yu Chengfeng to prepare a birthday gift for the prince – we’ll need it the day after tomorrow.”

Tonghuan replied, “It’s already been prepared. Since it wasn’t the proper day yet, I didn’t report it to Your Highness.”

She made an acknowledging sound, took Lan Zhou’s studies, had him recite two passages from “The Doctrine of the Mean,” saw that he was very proficient, praised him, then sent him off to play outside. As for their earlier conversation, she didn’t take it much to heart. As it approached noon, she had her meal and walked in the covered corridor to digest, thinking how the courtyard in the wind and rain had seemed so desolate, but after the wind stopped and rain ceased, it finally became full of vitality – this was what April should look like.

Spring easily made one drowsy. After strolling for a while, her eyelids kept fighting, and she rubbed the back of her neck saying she couldn’t go on – she needed to return and find a couch for an afternoon nap. The palace had always been like this – three full meals and two sleeps. In the deep palace’s loneliness, this was how time was passed, and coming to the outside world, it was hard to change these habits easily.

The curtains in the bedroom were half lowered, the incense table was set in a patch of sunlight, the bronze Boshan incenser was so green it seemed to drip, and under the layered ridges of the lid, incense smoke curled up. The bed curtains partitioned off a small world specifically for her afternoon rest. She had always had one habit – there couldn’t be anyone nearby when she slept. Even in summer when the heat was overwhelming, she would only open one window and didn’t need anyone to fan her. She could roll around freely on the bed, and it didn’t matter if she fell off, but she couldn’t hear human voices. Whether footsteps or coughing, hearing them would wake her, and then her temper upon waking would be frighteningly bad – even the Emperor wouldn’t get any consideration.

Tonghuan and Xiao You withdrew, and the nannies serving in the courtyard also scattered beyond the second gate. At this time, everyone could steal a moment’s leisure, brew a pot of tea, eat a couple of pastries – the afternoon hours at Grand Princess’s mansion were much more leisurely than in the Forbidden City.

Xiao You followed a young maid to the front courtyard to look at newly bought fabric, while Tonghuan sat on a long bench across the doorway. Seeing Yu Qixia coming from afar, she stood up to greet him. Since they were all people assigned by Xiao Duo, they had many private connections and didn’t avoid anything. She asked, “How goes the matter our master asked you to investigate?”

Yu Qixia glanced at her, “How could it go? Last year when the Director came to Nanjing, the Eastern Depot’s agents also searched everywhere, but they’re too skilled – they haven’t left a single trace.” He gazed toward the main quarters and frowned, “The Grand Princess has married down after all, and moreover the Director is still in the capital. Without his instructions, we shouldn’t act rashly either. You and I are both people who followed Her Highness, so weighing both sides is most important. If Prince Nanyuan holds back, we’ll be happy to have peace too.”

These were honest words. Since they had become husband and wife, naturally one hoped they would be harmonious, and the servants would also have it easier. With Director Xiao present, even if troubles arose in the future, he would naturally arrange a way out for the Grand Princess. But if he weren’t there, these people would truly have to shoulder responsibility and advance or retreat with the Grand Princess.

Tonghuan acknowledged this, “She’s resting now. I’ll pass the word along later. The day after tomorrow is Prince Nanyuan’s birthday, and Her Highness will definitely go to the prince’s mansion. Please take care of the preparations in advance.”

Yu Qixia nodded and left. She leaned back against the door frame, casting her gaze toward the distant sky. After the rain, the sky was clear and boundless, a stretch of refreshing blue – such a pure, unstained color that looking at it long would truly entrance one’s soul.

At the edge of the boundless blue, someone was walking slowly forward. Moon-white flowing robes with golden thread crisscrossing, particularly graceful in the sunlight. She shuddered and quickly stood to welcome him. Prince Nanyuan approached unhurriedly, and even up close remained indifferent. She curtsied and paid respects, “Greetings to Your Highness. Your Highness has returned in glory – you’ve worked hard this while.”

He didn’t answer her words, only asked, “Is Her Highness napping?”

Tonghuan answered yes, “She just lay down not long ago. Your Highness will probably have to wait – Her Highness doesn’t like being disturbed. This servant will need to wait an hour before announcing you…”

He raised his hand slightly, “No need for you to announce me. I’ll go inside and wait for her.”

Tonghuan was shocked, “Your Highness, the mansion has rules…”

He suddenly turned his head, eyes like deep abysses, completely without warmth, “Since I inherited the title, no one has ever dared mention those two words to me. Rules? You’re talking to me about rules? The dog shit rules about princess and consort living in separate mansions should have been abolished long ago. I don’t care how things are in the capital – in my Nanyuan, my rules must be followed. You servants shouldn’t use regulations to constrain your masters, but rather should counsel them more – that’s your proper duty as servants. I know your selfish thoughts – when the consort enters the mansion, you need to be taken care of, need to bribe the nanny spirits. Don’t worry, I won’t short you a single coin here. But from today on, don’t obstruct anymore, or I don’t care whether you’re sent by the Emperor or by Xiao Duo – you won’t be kept either way.”

The corners of his mouth slightly upturned, his tone calm, as if chatting casually, but every word he spoke pierced the heart. So this was the real him – far from the humble and courteous manner they had seen when following the Grand Princess. He had the bearing to look down on all things. Toward people he cared about, he might be gentle as a spring breeze, but toward irrelevant people, he was cold to the point of near cruelty.

He clearly knew about what had happened in the Forbidden City, so he also understood her background completely. Tonghuan broke out in a cold sweat but forced herself to remain calm, “Your Highness misunderstands this servant. This servant meant that Her Highness just fell asleep…”

He sneered, “I know Her Highness has a temper when woken. I know what to do – you needn’t say more. Withdraw.”

Tonghuan had no choice but to step aside. He entered the hanging flower gate, passed around a crabapple tree – the last time he came here was on their wedding night. Later, when he wanted to enter again, she had strictly forbidden him from entering, so he could only sigh across the wall.

Originally, when the temporary palace was rebuilt into the Grand Princess’s mansion, although the court ordered the provincial administration to prepare it, he was the one who actually managed it, so he was extremely familiar with every plant and tree here. Those golden thread vine red lacquer bamboo curtains hanging under the eaves, piece after piece, rolled at various heights – originally they were just lifeless objects, but since she had been here, they gradually took on vitality.

These past days he had been in Hangzhou, standing in flood waters across the fields, his mind directing rescue efforts while his heart still constantly thought of her. He wondered if she was comfortable in Jinling, if she might occasionally think of him. Previously, the first thing he did upon returning was to pay respects to the Dowager Consort; now it was to see her. Although she remained aloof, compared to the former anguish of endless distance and flying soul, what did this little incomprehension matter!

He gradually reached the bottom of the steps and looked up. Her bedroom maintained the highest specifications of the temporary palace, the golden phoenixes and imperial seals under the eaves had been renovated and were even more brilliantly dazzling. About to see her, he felt both impatient and secretly timid. After standing still and catching his breath slightly, he lifted his robes and ascended the white marble steps.

Entering the main hall, the room was spacious and empty, with only the lotus water clock making soft dripping sounds. He knew she was in the eastern warm chamber, behind several layers of heavy curtains was her sleeping couch. He lightened his steps, approaching layer by layer. Under the curtains, fragrance pervaded – a young lady’s boudoir should smell just like this. His heart began pounding, and standing before the last gauze curtain, through the sparse warp and weft, he saw a delicate silhouette lying on her side, her clothing’s soft fabric outlining her waist in an extraordinarily graceful curve. He reached out wanting to lift the curtain, hesitated repeatedly, thinking she had already fallen deeply asleep and afraid entering would wake her and displease her.

Perhaps he could wait a bit longer. He restrained himself and was about to withdraw when he heard her low voice asking who it was. Then she propped herself up on one elbow, her black hair like satin flowing down onto the Persian carpet below the arhat couch.

There was no retreating now, he could only go forward. How ridiculous – what was there to fear? Great storms and waves had never made him retreat, and yet a little girl could make him hesitate?

He said, “It’s me.” He reached out to lift the curtain, and the hazy silhouette instantly became clear. She lay there, her face like peach blossoms, her lips like vermillion.

Wanwan felt a bit dizzy, only aware that her mind was drowsy and her thoughts unclear. The person behind the curtain walked in, and she squinted for a long time but couldn’t distinguish who he was. His appearance and figure seemed extremely familiar, but who was it… She felt she was in a dream, and since it was a dream, who cared who it was!

She lay back down, closed her eyes, and murmured, “You came…”

He hadn’t expected this attitude from her – her tone was so peaceful it made him feel honored beyond measure. He said yes, “I’ve returned. How has Your Highness been during this time?”

She clumsily shifted position and asked him to sit, without answering him, asking herself as if talking to herself, “Is it getting dark?”

He looked back at the latticed windows – clearly the daylight was bright. Could she be confused from sleep?

He moved closer and sat on the edge of the couch. Her sleeve openings were wide, and after tossing and turning, they had ridden up high to her shoulders, revealing a snow-white arm lying across – a heart-stirring beauty. His emotions were turbulent, and he said casually, “I looked when I came in – it’s the third quarter of noon.”

She muttered – truly not a good hour. Probably because in operas they always sang about being taken out for execution at the third quarter of noon.

This quiet moment, with him sitting and her lying, created no conflict at all, as if it were the greatest reward after a long campaign. He secretly looked at her – her cheeks were slightly red, as if she was quite hot, and even her temples were damp. The crossed collar of her undergarment had opened a bit, revealing a fragile neck with a red cord around it, hanging a silver lock the size of an abacus bead. He knew it was something Consort Xu had left her when she was small. So after all these years, she was still longing for familial affection. He had always silently observed, and the longer it went on, the more it made his heart ache.

He couldn’t help but softly ask her, “When I wasn’t here, did you ever think of me?”

She slowly opened her eyes, gazing at him hazily, one hand slowly reaching over, climbing onto his flowing robes, over his back, then encircling his waist, pressing her face against his thigh, with a faint hint of tearfulness saying yes, “But… it’s not allowed.”

Hearing her words, his mind buzzed, as if his three souls and seven spirits were about to leave his body – he couldn’t believe this was real.

What did she say? Had he heard wrong? Did she just admit to missing him? His heart was filled with mixed emotions, and he gripped her hand tightly, leaning down to ask her, “What Your Highness said – are they all from the heart?”

Her gaze was scattered, and with great difficulty she focused, looking for a long time and seeing strong eyebrows, a straight nose bridge, feeling he should be the person she had once thought of day and night.

She became aggrieved, with so many things to say, afraid the dream would suddenly end and he would disappear again. So she reached out her hand, placing it on his shoulder and pulling downward. He leaned over, and their cheeks pressed together. She softly choked back a sob, her arms like ivy, winding around, sacrificing all pride to trap him there.