In the winter of the third year of the Jing Hong era, goose-feather snowflakes danced wildly throughout the capital’s territory. The earth was a vast expanse of white, adding a touch of purity to this flourishing land filled with desire.
On the streets, vendors bundled in thick clothing shrank from the cold, yet still raised their voices to hawk their wares. Suddenly, the sound of drumbeats came from the distance. Passersby and vendors scattered to make way, and soon a troop of military officers clad in silver armor escorted several horse-drawn carriages past. These carriages were inlaid with magnificent gems, their bronze bells chiming melodiously. The somewhat knowledgeable citizens of the capital instantly understood—this was a noble lady of the imperial family traveling, no wonder there were gongs and drums leading the way, requiring all idle people to avoid the path.
Horse hooves splashed the gray, dirty snow on the ground as the magnificent carriages slowly passed before the common people, carrying an air of aloof coldness and superiority.
The ebony carriage at the rear of the convoy was carved with phoenix patterns. Though kept very clean, it was not as magnificent as the carriages ahead, bearing the weathered antiquity of time’s passage.
“Stop the carriage.”
A childish female voice came from within the carriage. The guards surrounding it hesitated for a moment before stopping the carriage. A guard brought over a mounting stool, and a palace servant respectfully bowed and stood before the carriage, extending a hand toward the curtain, though his eyes held mockery and forbearance.
A former dynasty’s princess raised by the Emperor as a mascot to display his benevolent heart and virtuous character could only receive superficial respect.
Soon, a little girl not yet ten years old emerged from the carriage. She wore a brocade fur coat and had a reclining rabbit hairpin in her hair—she was adorably fair as jade and snow. She jumped down from the carriage, unconcerned about the dirty snow on the ground, and ran toward a certain corner.
In the corner stood a small stall with a pot boiling sugar syrup. An old man in drab gray robes bent his head as he made sugar paintings. Seeing the delicately carved little girl running over, a kind smile appeared on his face: “Does the noble one wish to buy a sugar painting?”
The guard who followed the little girl over felt vaguely that something was strange about this old man, but for a moment couldn’t say what was different. He clasped his hands toward the little girl and said: “Your Highness, you are a body worth ten thousand gold, you must not be willful.”
His Majesty wanted this former dynasty princess to serve as a mascot, so these guards had to ensure the mascot stayed alive and well. Who knew that just as he finished speaking, he would see the little princess turn her head and look at him with puppy-dog eyes. The guard froze for a long moment, and a sentence involuntarily left his mouth.
“If Your Highness likes it, you may buy some to take back, just don’t eat too much.”
As a military officer, he had absolutely no resistance to cute-looking children.
“What kind does the noble one like?” The old man’s smile grew even warmer. He pointed at the various sugar paintings stuck in the straw. There were military generals, ladies, flowers, animals, even mountains and rivers—all lifelike.
Kong Hou didn’t know why she had spotted this sugar painting stall from afar and had come down from the carriage regardless of everything. Though she was nearly ten years old, in her memory, she had only left the palace three times.
The first time was when the imperial palace was breached by rebel forces. Palace servants brought her to escape, but before they could leave the city gates, they were captured by the rebel army and brought back.
The second time was after the new Emperor ascended the throne. He enfeoffed her, the daughter of the former dynasty’s emperor, as Princess Pingning, and with great fanfare brought her to the Heaven Worship Ceremony. Half the capital praised His Majesty’s benevolence. Through the window gauze, she saw the detached curiosity on the faces of passersby—she was like a golden-maned lion kept in a menagerie, and these commoners were the palace viewers come to observe the beasts.
Today was the third time. The Emperor’s most beloved daughter was returning to the capital, and he commanded noblewomen of distinguished status to leave the city to welcome her.
Kong Hou was very happy. She wished the new Emperor had several more married daughters, so that each time they returned, she could take the opportunity to leave the palace and look around. Hearing the stall owner ask her, Kong Hou pointed at the immortal maiden treading stars and moon: “I want this one.”
“Right away.” The stall owner used a ladle to scoop out the prepared sugar syrup and quickly drew on the wooden board. His movements were extremely skilled, his expression very focused, as if he were doing something of great importance in his life.
Kong Hou opened her eyes wide, not daring to blink once. She was afraid of missing this magical process. Snowflakes drifted onto her face, freezing it red. The stall owner couldn’t help but speak: “Officer, the snow is heavy today. The noble one is young—don’t let her catch a chill.”
Only then did the guard officer react, waving his hand to have a palace servant hold an umbrella for Kong Hou. At this moment, he finally sensed what was wrong—because this old man, facing them, showed no fear whatsoever, completely unlike an ordinary common citizen.
The stall owner winked at Kong Hou with a smile. Kong Hou covered her mouth to avoid making a sound, her eyes forming crescents. Soon the sugar painting was finished. The stall owner’s skill was exquisite—this immortal maiden sugar painting was as clear as crystal, and the flying celestial maiden carried a mysterious immortal aura.
“So beautiful! This is the most beautiful sugar painting I’ve ever seen.” Though this was also the only time she had ever seen a sugar painting.
“Princess Pingning.” A female official in green winter clothing came over. She said expressionlessly: “You should go now.”
Not far behind the female official, several noblewomen stood by the carriage, whispering with lowered heads, clearly mocking Kong Hou. The once lofty princess of the former dynasty was nothing more than this now. Privately mocking Kong Hou brought them a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
But Kong Hou’s reaction often greatly diminished their satisfaction, because she had no reaction whatsoever to such mockery—no sadness, no anger, not even timidity. She would often stare at them with wide eyes, as if they were making trouble without reason.
This time Kong Hou’s reaction was the same. She took a silver peanut from her purse and handed it to the stall owner. Disregarding the female official’s cold expression, she said to the stall owner: “Your sugar paintings are very beautiful, just like what’s written in story books.”
The stall owner’s hair and beard were all white, and the clothes on his body were shabby and worn. In such cold weather, he still came out to sell sugar paintings—his life must not be easy. Kong Hou thought to herself that if she praised the old man a few more times, he might be happier.
The lives of commoners were difficult. Though she didn’t understand, she had read about it in story books.
“Your Highness!” The female official’s face completely darkened. She said in an icy tone: “What about your court etiquette?”
Kong Hou carefully held the sugar painting wrapped in rice paper, scrunched her nose with her back to the female official, but when she turned to face the female official, she still appeared obedient and adorable: “Thank you for the reminder, Auntie.”
The female official smiled without mirth: “As long as Your Highness understands.”
Kong Hou pretended not to see the disdain in the female official’s eyes. Clutching the sugar painting, she prepared to return to the carriage, even accidentally kicking up mud from the ground, splashing a few drops onto the hem of the female official’s skirt.
The female official stared at the mud spots on her hem, her expression extremely ugly, yet she dared not truly disrespect Kong Hou.
“Your Highness, as a woman, your words and actions should be unhurried and measured, advancing and retreating with propriety…” Before the female official could finish her words, a sudden strong wind rose, howling and whipping up snowflakes. The icy cold snow struck her face like a dull knife cutting flesh—it hurt terribly.
The storm quickly passed. The palace servant holding the umbrella for Kong Hou looked back and, unable to care about the ruined silk umbrella, let out a scream.
The female official was startled by the scream and was preparing to scold this palace servant who didn’t know the rules, but before she could speak, she was stunned by the scene before her eyes.
She saw seven-colored radiant light flourishing in the sky, as if an immortal were descending. The old man who had been making sugar paintings had already disappeared without a trace. The corner was completely empty, as if no one had ever appeared there.
Soon a legend spread through the capital, the general meaning being that Emperor Jing Hong was divinely ordained by heaven’s mandate, so much so that even immortals descended because of it. Emperor Jing Hong took advantage of this to grant a special imperial examination, receiving praise from numerous scholars and becoming a benevolent and virtuous emperor in the mouths of the common people.
As a princess of the former dynasty, Kong Hou had a spendthrift father. This father didn’t love beautiful women but loved beautiful music. He kept many musicians in the rear palace and ignored governmental affairs, allowing treacherous officials to control the court and stirring up popular resentment.
When the former dynasty was overthrown, aside from the conservative old officials who rebuked the current emperor for disloyalty and wolfish ambition, no one else expressed any dissatisfaction about it.
To be an emperor to this extent could be considered a disgrace to one’s ancestors. Kong Hou had no opinion whatsoever about this spendthrift father of hers. She only sorrowfully mourned her stolen sugar painting—that was the first sugar painting she had ever received in her life.
What made it worse was that the one who took the sugar painting was the current emperor himself. What could she do? Of course, she could only obediently present it with both hands. After Emperor Jing Hong took the sugar painting, he had palace servants send many sugar paintings, of every flavor and color. But Kong Hou felt that none of these sugar paintings were as good as hers. The feeling of anticipation while gathered around the stove waiting for the sugar painting to be finished was incomparable to other sugar paintings.
The thirtieth day of the twelfth month—the New Year’s banquet.
Kong Hou changed into the magnificent clothing prepared by the palace servants and allowed them to dress her up as a jade maiden before an immortal, appearing at the palace banquet. Among those attending the palace banquet were some former dynasty officials. When they saw Kong Hou attending in full dress, they became even more at ease.
If His Majesty treated even the princess of the former dynasty so favorably, what more could be said of these capable and talented officials of the former dynasty?
Kong Hou didn’t care what these officials thought. She only focused on eating her meal—she couldn’t get such good food in private. In the corner, musicians played pleasant melodies. A female musician with her hair styled in an immortal’s topknot plucked the strings with her delicate hands, playing a phoenix-headed konghou.
This phoenix-headed konghou was presented to the doomed ruler of the former dynasty by a master craftsman. This doomed ruler was exceptionally fond of the phoenix-headed konghou. At that time, his only daughter happened to be born, so he gave this daughter the name Kong Hou.
This name was somewhat frivolous, but the doomed ruler didn’t love the Empress, didn’t love his daughter, and was only obsessed with music and rhythm. Even if the Empress was dissatisfied, what could she do? So although Kong Hou was young, she knew early on that being reborn depended on luck. With bad luck, one might encounter an unreliable father who couldn’t even give a proper name.
To display the phoenix-headed konghou and play it at this moment was undoubtedly a humiliation to Kong Hou. However, the person who gave this order was the Eldest Princess, the Emperor’s own younger sister, so even those who knew had to pretend they knew nothing.
The Eldest Princess’s husband had died at the hands of a former dynasty general, so the Eldest Princess hated the former dynasty’s emperor and also hated Kong Hou, this remnant of the former dynasty. If not for the fact that the Eldest Princess still barely retained her rationality and couldn’t make things difficult for a child under ten years old in front of the assembled officials, she would probably have spoken a few harsh words to Kong Hou.
Unfortunately, this subtle method of humiliation had absolutely no effect on Kong Hou. From beginning to end, this princess of the former dynasty only smiled at the noble ladies with those innocent and beautiful big eyes, or lowered her head to eat, completely lacking any self-awareness of being humiliated.
This gave the Eldest Princess no sense of satisfaction whatsoever. She heavily placed the wine vessel in her hand on the table and said to Kong Hou: “Princess Pingning, what do you think of this phoenix-headed konghou?”
Kong Hou blinked and looked carefully several times before saying: “It’s quite pretty.”
The Eldest Princess waited quietly for what would follow.
However, Kong Hou only stared at her with clear black-and-white eyes, seemingly puzzled about what else she was supposed to hear. The thoughts of adults were truly strange.
The Eldest Princess understood this look, and in her heart… she felt even more stifled. She wanted to flip the table, but this was the palace banquet, and she still cared about face.
Other young noblewomen knew the Eldest Princess disliked Kong Hou. Seeing the Eldest Princess’s unpleasant expression, they all began chattering and laughing, only their words were filled with disdain for the former dynasty and flattery for the current regime. Those who were more obvious even mockingly ridiculed Kong Hou with veiled barbs.
Kong Hou put down her silver chopsticks and responded to these unreasonable adults with an adorable smile.
Some things could be replaced with a smile. If one wasn’t enough, then two. Kong Hou, who was still young but considered herself magnanimous, was always so understanding.
However, the noblewomen were always enraged by this kind of smile, and even they themselves didn’t know why.
Just as everyone was about to step onto the edge of fury once more, the sky suddenly blazed with brilliant silver light, illuminating the entire sky above the imperial palace.
Everyone looked up in unison, their faces full of astonishment.
Kong Hou cupped her face and looked up. Oh, ancestors of the old Ji family for eighteen generations—was she seeing an immortal?