The next day was the Qixi Festival.

In Great Chen, the Qixi Festival, also called the Festival of Skillful Hands, followed the ceremonial customs of the former Chu state. Palace servants throughout the palaces took down the silk gauze lanterns from under the eaves and hung glazed palace lanterns instead. They also used flour and lard to make various kinds of skill cakes.

Inside her chambers, Zheng Zhiyi nibbled on skill cakes while practicing calligraphy. Qun Qing led people to inspect the south courtyard.

The flowers in the garden had all been neatly transplanted, with several already budding tender green buds.

The original flowering trees had been pruned into layered arrangements. Ruo Chan tied bright red silk flowers and fruits to the branches, making them look like a pomegranate tree in full bloom—gorgeous and captivating. Ruo Chan held a branch and said: “When the time comes, we’ll hang the wish papers we receive here, and it will be complete.”

Seeing the palace properly arranged, Qun Qing asked: “Has the invitation been sent to His Highness the Crown Prince?”

Lan Yue immediately deflated: “Do we still need to send it? I just passed by Luanyi Pavilion—it’s decorated with lanterns and colored streamers, already set up. Won’t His Highness have already arranged to accompany Princess Bao’an? If we send an invitation… we’ll look like clowns.”

Qun Qing thought for a moment: “Send one.”

She went inside to dip her brush and write the invitation. Before she knew it, several people had all crowded around to watch, blocking her light completely.

Everyone’s hopeful gazes multiplied Qun Qing’s pressure, because an invitation written in her own hand wouldn’t have any miraculous effect.

It was just that in the previous life on this Qixi Festival, Li Xuan and Minister Meng had quarreled unpleasantly during the day over the matter of installing a Crown Princess, which spoiled his mood for seeing Yang Fu.

She could only gamble—gamble that this matter hadn’t changed.

After handing the invitation to Lan Yue, Qun Qing took a lantern and went out to collect the wish papers hanging from the trees.

She didn’t like the taste of passively waiting for results. She was accustomed to doing something else to divert her attention.

Today the palace was celebrating the festival. Lanterns had been added around the curved pool. When night fell, there was a brilliant glow. Add to that the lanterns in the hands of a hundred palace maids—from afar, it looked like the Milky Way on earth, a beautiful sight to behold.

But because everyone needed to collect wish papers, large numbers of palace maids concentrated under several enormous weeping willows by the pool, talking in groups of two or three. Combined, it created a deafening hubbub.

One moment Qun Qing heard people beside her complaining loudly that the prayer official who would write wish papers was late and not coming. The next moment they cheered, saying a different gentleman had replaced him as prayer official. She couldn’t see clearly where the distant prayer official was, nor could she hear distant voices. She could only follow the crowd, stopping and starting.

To stand by this riverside feeling the breeze and daydreaming was a kind of luxurious relaxation for Qun Qing. Thinking this, she loosened her collar with one hand, allowing the cool, moist river breeze to bend her hair and penetrate her thin clothes and skirt.

After walking a hundred paces forward, she could finally see clearly—in the pavilion over the water, the prayer official sat in the water pavilion. That was where wish papers were collected.

Following Chu customs, the prayer official was generally a civil official of sixth rank or above from the court who took turns. On Qixi, they offered their precious ink and literary talent to write wish papers and help the ladies of the rear palace seek good fortune.

Palace maids normally had no opportunity to interact with gentlemen from outside, so they found it fresh and exciting.

Now, Qun Qing heard them arguing again: “The people from the empresses’ and consorts’ palaces were already at the front. Never mind that they demand three or five blessing papers in violation of regulations—look at that clothing attendant beside Lady Lü, still talking endlessly with the prayer official.”

“Not caring about those behind at all—our legs are swollen from standing.”

“Just endure it. After all, she’s from a favored consort’s palace.”

A few steps closer, the surroundings suddenly became very quiet. Because the prayer official’s outline became clear—rarely a young civil official, graceful as jade. The palace maids all stared at him, none wanting to be noisy and leave a bad impression.

The closer they got, the clearer the prayer official’s appearance became, creating a heart-stopping sensation. The surroundings were so quiet that only the sound of river wind blowing bells could be heard—tinkling, tinkling.

Qun Qing’s steps suddenly stopped.

She saw clearly who it was!

Instinctively, she wanted to leave the line, but the queuing palace maids had already packed in behind her. The prayer official raised his eyes several times, his gaze sweeping over her before continuing to speak with the palace maid in front. Aside from her breaking into cold sweat, the surrounding bustle showed no change whatsoever.

Qun Qing thought to herself—that day when she lifted her veil, he had looked for at most one glance. Today she wore different attire and it was dark. Was it possible Lu Huating simply hadn’t recognized her?

Thinking this, Qun Qing carried her lantern before Lu Huating.

The gauze lantern on the horizontal table illuminated the embroidered medallion patterns on Lu Huating’s front lapel. Rarely wearing official robes so properly made him look almost demonically handsome.

He didn’t raise his head, casually gathering paper slips from the tray. After a long moment, he smiled: “Young lady must at least tell me which palace you’re from, right?”

Because this was Qun Qing’s first time requesting a wish paper, she only now realized that their mutual silence meant he was waiting for her to identify herself.

Dodging and evading would arouse suspicion. Qun Qing said: “Qingxuan Pavilion.”

Lu Huating’s hand paused. Fearing he hadn’t heard clearly, Qun Qing raised her voice slightly: “From Crown Prince Good Lady Zheng’s palace.”

Upon hearing this, Lu Huating put down the crimson-purple paper for imperial concubines and instead drew out a blue-green paper: “What wish does your noble mistress make?”

Qun Qing had thought it through on the way and reported it all at once: “Mutual understanding, mutual commitment, husband and wife of one heart.”

Lu Huating’s brush tip paused again. He probably, like others in court, truly couldn’t imagine how wild horse-like Zheng Zhiyi and the Crown Prince could achieve “mutual understanding and commitment” or “husband and wife of one heart.”

But Qun Qing wasn’t embarrassed at all. Making wishes—one had to be bold for it to count as wishing.

The river wind was strong, puffing out and extinguishing several lanterns, blowing the paper slips in the tray about wildly. Lu Huating’s right hand holding the brush was wrapped in thick plain cloth. When he exerted force, bloodstains faintly showed through. A paper slip was suddenly blown onto the plain cloth by the wind, the undried ink immediately smudging.

Qun Qing watched him coldly, knowing that day when he caught the blade barehanded, his hand injury hadn’t healed—he couldn’t maintain his grip.

If it were someone else, Qun Qing would immediately step forward to help hold down the paper. But this was Lu Huating. She stood without moving. Lu Huating used his left hand to take a paperweight to hold down the paper slip, quickly crumpled the smudged one, drew another new one to rewrite, his face showing no trace of embarrassment as he said: “Young lady, please wait a moment.”

Qun Qing quietly watched him write, her gaze quietly drifting to his face.

During this time, Prince Yan’s mansion should be in complete chaos. Yet Lu Huating, as chief clerk, could still so composedly enter the palace for duty—clearly this person’s inner strength was formidable.

She had never seen Lu Huating show panic or dejection. Today from his face, she also couldn’t observe any expression of defeat.

Qun Qing’s heart struggled.

She naturally hoped Prince Yan would be driven away, yet she wanted to bet on Lu Huating winning. That way, she wouldn’t need to complete that dangerous task either.

The tinkling sound in her ears was piercing, interrupting her wandering thoughts. The river wind not only shook the wind chimes but also pressed the single bean of light within the gauze lantern very dim.

Seeing it was becoming too dark to see the characters clearly, Qun Qing couldn’t help raising the lantern in her hand. A patch of light fell on the paper slip, illuminating Lu Huating’s finger bones like falling glaze.

The paper surface suddenly brightened. His brush tip paused again.

Qun Qing had already raised her head, searching everywhere for the source of that sound. On the crossbeam of the water pavilion hung a wind chime crudely tied together with copper coins and cotton thread. The tinkling sound came from the coins colliding.

A hand with distinct finger bones took down the wind chime.

Qun Qing whipped her head around. Lu Huating had somehow risen from behind the table, holding the wind chime in his hand. Raising it slightly higher, his expression looking up at it held some mockery: “A small trick—承蒙娘子喜欢 承honored that young lady appreciates it.”

Lu Huating’s gaze suddenly moved from the wind chime to her face. Seeing Qun Qing’s frozen expression, the smile in his eyes grew brighter and colder, like a blade gleaming in darkness: “Take it. It was meant for you to begin with.”

Saying this, he stacked the wish paper and wind chime together and handed them to her.

Qun Qing lowered her eyes to count the coins—neither more nor less, exactly ten. Her mind roared.

—”Then return my three gold beads and ten coins.”

—”I don’t like owing people. Which palace does young lady serve in? I’ll have someone send them this afternoon.”

He had recognized her all along, merely toying with her and extracting where she served…

“Qun Qing! Qun Qing!” At this moment, Qun Qing heard someone calling her name. “His Highness has come! His Highness really came…”

It was Lan Yue’s voice.

Originally Lan Yue didn’t know where Qun Qing was. It was just that her emotions were so excited, she told every palace maid she encountered “His Highness came to Qingxuan Pavilion.” Seeing her seeming mad, people spontaneously made way, allowing her to see Qun Qing in the middle of the water pavilion.

Lan Yue squeezed through the crowd into the water pavilion. Hearing complaints behind her, she then saw Qun Qing holding a string of copper coins. Looking up, she caught sight of Lu Huating’s face and was stunned for an instant: “Did you get the wish paper? What are you doing?”

“This gentleman’s wind chime fell—he asked me to tie it back up.” Qun Qing suddenly tossed the lantern into her arms. Amid exclamations, she stepped up onto the railing and tied the wind chime back to the high pole, wrapping it around forcefully several times.

When Lan Yue arrived just now, Qun Qing had seen someone in the crowd.

Shou Xi.

Shou Xi was an attendant close to the Crown Prince. He stood by the river coldly staring in her direction. She didn’t know how long he’d been watching—whether he’d seen Lu Huating uniquely stand and take down the wind chime for her.

As a palace servant close to the Crown Prince having entanglements with Prince Yan’s mansion’s chief clerk—she had committed a grave taboo. Even returning the items might not clear her.

Jumping down, Qun Qing linked arms with Lan Yue and left. Lan Yue couldn’t wait to share her joy with Qun Qing: “…As soon as you wrote the invitation, His Highness came. You can predict the future—what immortal magic do you know?”

Qun Qing’s mind was in chaos. Lan Yue’s words reached her ears in fragments. Amid the tinkling collision sounds, Lu Huating’s voice drilled especially clearly into her ears, cool as night dew.

He was helping the palace maid behind write wish papers, yet continued Lan Yue’s words: “What’s so rare about knowing immortal magic? Looking at physiognomy, young lady is born from a green snake.”

Qun Qing closed her eyes, again feeling that cold sensation of being forced into a corner.

You’re the snake—you’re the poisonous one.

—

The night was cool as water, the moon bright and stars sparse.

The prayer official served until late at night before finishing the last paper slip. The riverside bustle dwindled to nothing—no one remained.

Juan Su helped Lu Huating pack up ink, brushes, and paper scraps: “Chief Clerk, did you accomplish what you needed to? Will Her Ladyship help us?”

Lu Huating sat behind the table, looking at the blood soaking through the cloth on his hand: “More or less.”

“His Highness most detests matters of gods and Buddhas. If he finds out you had the staff agree to welcome Buddha’s bone, he’ll probably blow his top.” Juan Su said.

“He detests it? Do you think Prince Yan’s mansion still has room to bargain?” Lu Huating said indifferently.

“True.” Juan Su was dejected. “Now that His Highness has lost power, we begged in every way to stay. At least he’s still an imperial prince. How can the Sage show no father-son affection…”

The pool water before them was shrouded in mist, pitch black and turbid. Lu Huating tugged at his collar: “Dizzy.”

“How could you not be dizzy? That blade was poisoned! Chief Clerk hasn’t slept enough these days, let alone recuperated from injury. How can your body withstand this?” Juan Su said softly.

What Lu Huating meant naturally wasn’t physical dizziness, but a kind of weariness.

Power and scheming were like wading through an ink pool. He’d waded through once and reached the shore. Now he had to wade through again.

“The river wind is damp and cold, official robes are thin. Our Prince Yan’s mansion is currently just a paper shell with holes on all sides. Depending on you alone to patch it up—it can’t withstand such blowing.”

Juan Su said, “Chief Clerk is already overworked. Since you’ve already conveyed the message to Lady Lü, why not request leave to return to the mansion instead of insisting on staying the entire time? Writing several hundred paper slips—the young ladies are happy, but this hand injury probably won’t heal anytime soon.”

Lu Huating played with the wind chime, answering without beginning or end: “I wanted to see her once.”

Juan Su was shocked: “Who?”

Lu Huating threw a copper coin from his sleeve. The coin clanged against the table, bouncing and rolling before settling—like a cold, indisputable answer.

Juan Su stared blankly at the copper coin on the table.

That… coin-tossing life-or-death… dream-killing young lady!

“Legend says that Longnan scholars rushing to examinations must walk many mountain roads without sleeping or resting. But people grow weary and drowsy. To stay alert, they place a small green snake inside the trunks they carry on their backs.” Lu Huating said. “The snake doesn’t sleep, the person doesn’t rest.”

Juan Su’s face wrinkled as he listened: “Then… did Chief Clerk see her?”

Upon seeing her today, Qun Qing’s complexion was quite good. Her face under the lamplight was like holding snow, her eyes like flying stars, with vibrant life force when she glanced about.

In just a few days, she’d even been promoted.

Lu Huating smiled. The wind swept away all weariness.

“I’m much more alert now,” he said.

“Then do we still kill her or not?” Juan Su carefully picked up the copper coin and stored it in a box.

“There are still things I want to know from her.” Lu Huating said lightly. “But even with a blade at her throat, she won’t speak.”

“If you only want to probe secrets, isn’t that simple? Why must there be fighting and killing?” Juan Su leaned close to Lu Huating’s ear and said something. Lu Huating remained silent after hearing it.

“This subordinate thinks this young lady is quite innocent. That was just a dream. What if the dream is the opposite?”

“Softening already?” Lu Huating glanced at him with a smile, his expression complex and inscrutable. “In the dream, four of you eight died at her hands.”

Juan Su’s smile disappeared.

—

The night watch sounded. Qun Qing couldn’t close her eyes.

One moment she thought about the blessing paper Lu Huating had written. The next moment she thought about Li Xuan spending the night at Qingxuan Pavilion.

One moment she thought about Shou Xi’s cold gaze.

The door opened. Lan Yue, who had been on duty outside, hurried in, pulled Qun Qing up, and stuffed a candle lantern into her hand: “Qun Qing, quickly go serve His Highness with the lantern! See if there’s any chance to leave the palace.”

Qun Qing sat up straight: “What chance to leave the palace?”

“I just told His Highness I had a stomach ache and you’d replace me on duty. When you’re serving, offend him slightly.” Lan Yue gestured. “Make him expel you!”

It turned out Lan Yue naively thought that since Li Xuan could expel her once, he could expel her a second time.

The Crown Prince was lying in the outer chamber. Qun Qing had been hesitating about this task all along.

But since the opportunity presented itself, Qun Qing still took the lantern.

—

In the bed curtains, Li Xuan also had his eyes open.

He was pondering the look in Zheng Zhiyi’s eyes when she saw him today.

Usually when Zheng Zhiyi saw him, she clung like sticky candy that couldn’t be shaken off. Little did he know that now when Zheng Zhiyi looked at Li Xuan, she found him somewhat frightening. The look in her eyes carried some fear and unnaturalness.

During the meal, she hadn’t said a single word.

The two hadn’t consummated their marriage and hadn’t been intimate in a long time. After the meal, sitting face to face, there was nothing to say. He saw Zheng Zhiyi constantly holding a book. When he leaned over to inquire, Zheng Zhiyi immediately hid the book in a drawer and dove into the bedding.

Li Xuan took out the book—it was merely a volume of palace regulations.

Regarding this first wife, in his youth Li Xuan felt disgust—disgust that his life was casually bound to hers. It was just that family education and propriety didn’t allow him to show this disgust. But after sharing hardships for several years, even with a kitten or puppy one could develop some warmth.

Now holding great power, with Zheng Zhiyi also a Good Lady in the rear palace with no power to constrain him anymore, that sharp aversion had instead dissipated.

The two were truly incompatible in temperament. He didn’t like her, but he didn’t want to make things difficult for her either. Zheng Zhiyi was too young, simple-minded. To him, there was no difference from raising cats and dogs. His outburst last time was really because her words were harsh.

Seeing she seemed quite frightened, when they lay side by side, Li Xuan wanted to cover Zheng Zhiyi with a blanket. Unexpectedly, she immediately hid in the corner and wrapped herself in the quilt.

Thinking of how last time Zheng Zhiyi had still been requesting consummation, Li Xuan’s hand froze. The changes in Qingxuan Pavilion spread some discomfort in his heart.

At this moment, Li Xuan looked at his Good Lady. Zheng Zhiyi was snoring loudly.

She and Lan Yue had tended the flower garden together, planting her favorite crimson fan roses. Having bustled about all day, she couldn’t possibly wake up.

Her snoring was like thunder.

Li Xuan tossed and turned, calmly trying to close his eyes when suddenly he heard a tremendous crash from the outer chamber!

Qun Qing looked in amazement at the break in the candlestick handle.

She remembered what Lan Yue had said and thought this was probably another “chance to leave the palace” Lan Yue had arranged for her.

She paused, holding her breath as she crouched down to pick up the fallen candlestick. Just then, the bed curtains parted. She saw a pair of extremely pale feet step onto the carpet. Li Xuan looked down at her.

This was the third time he had seen Qun Qing.

Meng Guanlou’s words were as if beside his ear: “Prince Yan’s mansion shadow guard… Wen Su… didn’t even drop a single earring…”

Li Xuan’s gaze fell on Qun Qing’s crown, then on her earlobes. This woman wore no earrings—on her ear was only a silver needle for ear piercing, sharp and gleaming.

“Hold the lantern.” Li Xuan stood over her, speaking coldly.