That night, a torrential rain descended.

Thunder and lightning hammered the palace city. The palace servants jolted awake and hurried to close their windows tight.

The civet cat darted out from under the bed, meowing incessantly. Yang Fu, who had been confined for so long, suddenly awakened with a start, trembling all over, yet didn’t embrace it. Those beautiful eyes filled with confusion.

“Qingqing…” When she realized what she had called out, she bit her lip sharply.

The pale bed curtains fluttered overhead. No one responded to her. No one soothed the civet cat, held a pillow while parting the bed curtains, lay down beside her, or grasped her hand.

Qun Qing used soapberry to wash her hair, leaving a drifting cold fragrance in her tresses. Yang Fu was surprised—surprised that even to this day, she could clearly recall that scent.

Yang Fu was Chu’s most beautiful princess. Her mother, Consort Han, gained favor by giving birth to such an incomparably beautiful daughter and from then on devoted all her efforts to Yang Fu’s clothing and adornments.

Envoys came from all corners, tributes arrived from eight directions. Fine things flowed endlessly like water before her eyes. All she needed to do was shift her gaze from one treasure to another, never keeping anything in her heart, because soon something better and more interesting would replace it.

Qun Qing was also a beautiful treasure she had selected in childhood, who should have received ephemeral favor. But Qun Qing was too capable, always bringing surprises, causing Yang Fu’s attention to linger on her for a long time.

Just now, Yang Fu had dreamed of those glorious youthful days: back when she and the Sixteenth Princess had not yet married, sitting behind a screen. A brazen envoy, using drunkenness as an excuse, rashly charged behind the screen, wanting to glimpse Princess Bao’an’s beauty.

The unpleasant smell of alcohol had just drifted in when Qun Qing stood up, tossing her fan out to strike the envoy’s nose, beating his face into a swollen mess:

“The Seventeenth Princess of Great Chu orders this servant to teach the lord some manners.”

Her voice rang clear and cold. The envoy was so frightened he bowed repeatedly and scrambled out rolling and crawling. Yang Fu and the Sixteenth Princess laughed together: “He’s so tall and fat, how dare you be so fierce?”

The fourteen-year-old Qun Qing sat back on her stool, carefully peeling water chestnuts. She loved eating water chestnuts most, but had to peel them for the two princesses first. She peeled slowly herself and often couldn’t eat a single one. “It’s all right—there are guards outside. If he dares intrude, we can call for help.”

When Qun Qing spoke with them, her tone was soft and slow, with a certain innocence, completely different from moments before.

“What if there were no guards?” Yang Fu snatched the water chestnut from Qun Qing’s hand, insisting on pursuing this question. “What if it were just the two of us? Would you still dare protect me?”

Qun Qing actually turned her head to assess the envoy’s build. She wore double buns adorned with jade flowers. Yang Fu was suddenly struck by how her maidservant also possessed such a beautiful, pure white neck. Qun Qing turned back, her eyes bright: “I would dare.”

Yang Fu loved Qun Qing’s heroic spirit most and embraced her, bestowing infinite favor upon her. But even her most beloved maidservant, in Yang Fu’s heart, should have the awareness to die before her mistress, because this was the duty of all servants in the world.

In the Qingjing Temple, Qun Qing had fulfilled her promise. Yang Fu had always thought her grief was like shattering a beloved glass vase.

Until tonight, when Yang Fu relived that old dream, she suddenly realized that Qun Qing hadn’t eaten even a single water chestnut that night. She didn’t know why she thought of these things. A fine, twisting pain in her heart made her both shocked and angry, as if that vase had shattered in her own heart.

Yang Fu began coughing violently. After being confined, she received neglect she had never experienced before. The civet cat’s food was insufficient, the charcoal inadequate, making the pavilion damp and cold. The fresh flowers in the vases grew moldy, petals falling one by one. Poor-quality charcoal ash covered everything.

“Bao Shu, Bao Shu…” she called for Bao Shu, but no one answered from beyond the curtains. “Someone!”

A palace maid rushed in: “Is the princess unwell? The cold medicine Prince Yan sent is still in the storehouse.”

“Prince Yan,” Yang Fu’s tears streamed down her face. “Tell him to get lost!” She threw her pillow, scaring the civet cat into a miserable shriek.

The pillow Li Huan had sent, the medicine Li Huan had sent, the trinkets Li Huan had brought from the marketplace beside her bed—surely everyone was mocking her? But in this harem that had changed masters, if she wanted to live better, what choice did she have?

Was it because she had been intimate with Li Huan that Qun Qing turned against her?

Prince Yan had killed Qun Qing’s elder brother in the temple.

Yang Fu felt as if a painful spot had been struck.

Qun Qing was merely her former reading companion. She could even die for her. Yet upon discovering her liaison with Li Huan, Qun Qing dared judge her, humiliate her so at the banquet, force her to choose…

Then she need no longer cherish their old friendship.

“Go fetch Bao Shu,” Yang Fu told the young eunuch.

The young eunuch found Bao Shu at the corner gate, where she was secretly passing messages.

Yang Fu asked: “Has Zheng Zhiyi’s udumbara flower sprouted?”

Bao Shu’s dress clung wetly to her body: “It’s already grown two finger-widths high.”

How could this be? Yang Fu was stunned. Even Atiniye had deceived her?

“What about the matter I asked you to handle?” Yang Fu asked.

Bao Shu said: “This servant has already written home to my mother, asking the Xie family to transport fresh flowers from beyond the passes. They should arrive at the palace tomorrow.”

Bao Shu’s expression was uneasy tonight, hesitant to speak. Now she bit her lip and suddenly knelt: “The confinement has lasted too long, which is disadvantageous to the princess. This servant has thought of a solution—please forgive me, Princess.”

She drew a letter of recommendation from her sleeve, her expression unnatural: “This servant heard that the Prince Yan’s consort will select female officials from among the palace maids serving in the clothing department. At that time… I registered my name. If you stamp it with your seal, this servant can leave under the pretext of taking the selection examination. Once I enter the Six Bureaus, I’ll find a way to help you lift the confinement.”

“Searched everywhere for you, and here you are plotting your escape.”

Yang Fu stared at her eerily, then finally laughed coldly after a long moment: “You think I don’t know you came to my side without genuine loyalty, harboring ambitions to enter the Six Bureaus all along. Now seeing my decline in power, you want to abandon ship.”

The princesses of old Chu were indeed not fools. Bao Shu’s heart panicked, fearing Princess Bao’an would punish her: “How would this servant dare? It’s just that after the confinement, there’s been no way to turn things around. This servant must think of solutions for the princess…”

“Do you know I’ve kept evidence of you bribing the Jinwu Guards to pass messages home? Violating the imperial order means you can forget about becoming a female official in this lifetime!” Yang Fu picked up the civet cat, cradling it in her arms while stroking it, gazing darkly at the terrified Bao Shu.

Then she smiled softly: “I can choose not to pursue this and can stamp the seal to let you take the examination. But first, you must have your maternal family, your Father, find another way to help me compete for the position of crown princess consort. Once I gain power in the future, it will naturally benefit the Meng family. I cannot swallow this humiliation of being suppressed by a bandit’s daughter.”

Since childhood, Yang Fu’s mother Consort Han had told her that in her life, only one thing mattered: using her beauty to marry a noble husband. That person must wield supreme power and wealth to guarantee her carefree life in her later years.

Qun Qing had treated her very well, but no matter how capable Qun Qing was, she was only a woman who couldn’t provide for her entire life. So her choice wasn’t wrong.

She wanted to become crown princess consort, to regain power, to suppress Zheng Zhiyi back to where she belonged. She had to prove she was right… and that Qun Qing was wrong.

Bao Shu’s fingers clenched tight, but when Yang Fu summoned several eunuchs to bind her, she could only say in humiliation: “This servant agrees, Princess!”

—

When thunder struck, Qun Qing startled awake from her dream.

Her body tensed for an instant. Realizing what night it was and that she wasn’t on duty, she wrapped herself in the quilt and continued sleeping.

Just as she closed her eyes, a soaking wet person burst in and pulled her up—it was Lan Yue with an anxious face: “You can still sleep? The rain is so heavy—the flowers in our garden are all getting damaged!”

Lan Yue and Zheng Zhiyi were very attached to that flower garden. Qun Qing threw off her quilt and got up: “No problem. Cut some bamboo poles to build a frame, take gauze fabric to cover it, coat it with tung oil, and cover everything.”

The rain outside was heavier than imagined.

In the wind and rain, five people worked together to unfurl the shark-silk gauze. The gauze immediately tore in the wind and rolled to one side. Amid the palace maids’ shrieks, the newly erected frame also blew over. Those carefully tended flowers were uprooted.

Lan Yue could barely open her eyes in the storm: “Hurry up! Lift it up first! I’ll go inside to get needle and thread to sew it back together.” She rushed back into the hall through the rain.

Qun Qing’s clothes and hair were already soaked through. The cold rain struck her face painfully. She saw several palace maids with faces blue from cold, at a complete loss. Ruo Chan hadn’t even worn shoes—her toes were curled up. Qun Qing called everyone under the eaves: “Wait until the rain lightens before continuing.”

Qun Qing brought out dry cloaks and tossed them to the maids: “Next time, put on shoes before coming out. Remember this for future duties: our mistress is important, but your bodies and your companions’ bodies are also important. In the palace, we’re as insignificant as grass, so we must cherish ourselves and look after each other. Do you hear me?”

In the palace quarters, no one had ever spoken such words to them, especially not from the highest-ranking palace maid. Several of them were stunned, responded affirmatively, their eyes reddening.

“What are you telling them? You’re the head palace maid—you’re teaching them how to shirk!” Lan Yue returned with the needle and thread, soaking wet. Seeing everyone sheltering from rain under the eaves, she stamped her foot in anger.

Just then, the hall door suddenly opened. Zheng Zhiyi, dressed in outer garments with her hair loose, said: “With all your chattering, how can I sleep?”

Just as Lan Yue was about to apologize, Zheng Zhiyi stamped her foot: “Who stays outside in this weather? All of you come in! I’ve had the kitchen heat wine—let’s drink together and warm ourselves.”

The palace maids hadn’t expected not to be scolded but to be offered wine instead. They exchanged glances, faces showing delight as they crowded through the door, gathering around a table to eat the warmed kumquats from the brazier. Lan Yue still wouldn’t sit, but was pulled to the table by several people: “We never imagined the good lady would be so kind. We’ve never seen such a mistress before.”

Qun Qing saw the brazier and stared at it intently, studying it for some time before asking: “Is the cook here?”

Cook Liu arrived. Qun Qing finally saw the true appearance of this cook who made delicious food—a young woman with a round face.

“Do you have a copper pot?” Qun Qing looked at her, gesturing: “Bring it so we can make hotpot for the good lady. You should eat with us too.”

The cook, appreciated by the head palace maid, flushed with pleasure and smiled happily: “Yes! Fresh lamb and venison just arrived today. Shall I bring them for you, miss?”

Lan Yue was dumbfounded, but Zheng Zhiyi was already calling out loudly: “Cut it into thin slices for me, slice along the grain—I loved eating this in the mountains!”

Lan Yue grew anxious: “Good lady, you promised me you’d never mention the mountains again!”

Zheng Zhiyi rolled up her sleeves, first pouring herself a large cup of wine and draining it in one gulp. Then she waved the empty cup at this group of stunned palace maids, her eyes bright: “I have what I have today thanks to all of you never leaving my side. This young lady thanks you with wine. In the future, if I have meat to eat, you’ll have soup to drink. Anyone who doesn’t drink today isn’t giving me, Zheng Zhiyi, face.”

Seeing Zheng Zhiyi reveal her wild nature, Lan Yue grew frightened and pleaded with Qun Qing: “What should we do!”

The wine was somewhat harsh going down, but warmed the lungs. Qun Qing drained it in one gulp: “It’s fine, drink up. There are no outsiders watching anyway.”

Lan Yue looked at her sideways. She suddenly felt that beneath Qun Qing’s reliable exterior lay a trace of madness.

“The good lady has followed the rules for so long—it’s been hard work too. When people are tired, they need to relax and enjoy themselves appropriately, or that string will snap.” Qun Qing served Lan Yue some hotpot meat with her chopsticks. “This isn’t a bad thing—you’ll see.”

Zheng Zhiyi’s identity as a bandit’s daughter wasn’t entirely useless. After several rounds of toasts, A’Jiang, who had secretly disdained her origins before, and those eunuchs, all drank until their blood boiled, feeling they were Zheng Zhiyi’s sisters from different parents, and that serving at Qingxuan Pavilion was their greatest fortune.

Serving on a rainy night was normally miserable, but who would have thought it would develop like this? Laughter, noise, and drinking games filled the pavilion.

Qun Qing rarely participated in banquets in her youth, so she loved sitting in this clamor, cradling her face and smiling as she listened.

Just then, Ruo Chan, who had gone to relieve herself, returned to the table, freezing the atmosphere: “Good lady, this servant saw what looked like thieves outside Qingxuan Pavilion!”

Zheng Zhiyi exclaimed: “What thieves?”

“This servant seemed to see them too.” A’Jiang thought of something. “When we were building the frame earlier, the south garden gate wasn’t closed. In the distance, there were several shadows as tall as fir trees, standing motionless watching us.”

Everyone panicked. Qun Qing didn’t believe it and put on her outer garment: “I’ll go look.”

Qun Qing held up an umbrella and lantern.

The moment the light illuminated ahead, there truly were several tall, slender black shadows on the bridge, motionless.

After studying them carefully for some time, Qun Qing suddenly recognized the young eunuch who often carried memorials for Li Xuan. Looking beside him in the darkness, the person under an umbrella wearing unclear white garments—his build and appearance resembled the crown prince.

“Not thieves—it should be the crown prince and some envoys.” Returning to the pavilion, Qun Qing said.

By then the rain had lightened somewhat. Zheng Zhiyi sent everyone back, leaving only Qun Qing and Lan Yue to discuss under the lamplight.

“The Eastern Palace is of paramount importance. If outsiders were wandering about, the Jinwu Guards would certainly drive them away. I saw the two guards nearby had no reaction—most likely they received orders from His Highness not to interfere.” Qun Qing said. “So those people are touring at night accompanied by the crown prince. The crown prince’s recent external affairs involve having intellectual discussions with envoys from the Liuli Kingdom.”

“What you say makes sense—those envoys are at Biquan Palace, which isn’t far.” Lan Yue said anxiously: “It’s all my fault for forgetting to close the south garden gate! We were improperly dressed and in the rain—for envoys to see us in such a state, how could it be good? Won’t it bring punishment to Qingxuan Pavilion!”

Zheng Zhiyi was bewildered: “It’s already past curfew, and we’re properly staying in our own palace. They’re the ones not observing curfew, wandering around outside. How can this be blamed on us?”

Lan Yue said: “Good lady, this servant has heard through hearsay how much the sage values these envoys. The crown prince personally accompanies them—so what if they tour by candlelight? They’re not considered palace people anyway.”

“Then this is Li Xuan’s fault. How could he personally lead people on night tours?” Zheng Zhiyi said.

She had Qun Qing dip her finger in wine to roughly point out the Liuli Kingdom’s location. After looking, Zheng Zhiyi’s eyes showed displeasure: “When you come to my mountain stronghold, you follow my rules. Such a tiny little country—what right do they have to swagger through the palace? If that’s the case, tomorrow I’ll strip off my clothes and wander around at night too.”

Lan Yue nearly fainted, but Qun Qing couldn’t help but smile.

Though Zheng Zhiyi’s words were crude, they coincided exactly with her own thinking. Qun Qing also felt Li Xuan was somewhat weak-willed before the envoys. However, in her previous life, he had been just such a benevolent ruler—not something a few palace servants could comment on.

She dipped her finger in wine and, from memory of maps in books, roughly drew the positions of Zhongzhou and the Liuli Kingdom, explaining to Zheng Zhiyi: “Though the Liuli Kingdom is small, it sits at the center of the Western Regions and is the birthplace of various religions, gradually becoming the leader among the thirteen Western Region states. Whether we establish friendly trade relations with the Western Regions in the future or face constant friction, we’ll have to deal with the Liuli Kingdom. This is probably why the sage and the crown prince value the envoys.”

Zheng Zhiyi listened, entranced: “Young Lady Qing knows so much—it’s truly enviable! Why don’t I know anything?”

“I also read it in books. If the good lady is interested, besides history books, you can also read the Records of the Four Seas. This servant will find them for you.” Qun Qing said. “They’re better than storybooks.”

Seeing Qun Qing already searching for the Records of the Four Seas, Lan Yue grew somewhat anxious. Qun Qing said: “You and the good lady needn’t worry. I’m the head palace maid—if there’s any blame, naturally I’ll bear it.”

Since Atiniye could send a stone seed, his intentions were clearly malicious. If she took the blame and could be stripped of this conspicuous position of head palace maid, it would actually facilitate her leaving the palace.

—

In the darkness, Li Xuan stood silently on the bridge opposite Qingxuan Pavilion, with Shou Xi holding an umbrella for him. Beside him stood several officials from Hong Lu Temple under Meng Guangshen.

Thunderstorms were considered inauspicious weather in the Liuli Kingdom. The young monk called Dewu among the envoys insisted on praying for blessings at each palace in the rain. The others had no choice but to come along.

Dewu was writing and drawing on silk cloth. Li Xuan’s thoughts drifted far away, recalling everything at Biquan Palace today, which filled him with anger:

After morning court that day, Li Xuan went to Biquan Palace to have intellectual discussions with the envoys. When the eunuchs opened the hall doors, he discovered someone was already inside: Atiniye’s group of three were conversing happily with a woman with a soft voice.

Noticing his entrance, the woman speaking Sanskrit suddenly stood up, walked before Li Xuan, and bowed gracefully, apologizing profusely.

She wore prayer robes unstained by dust, without powder or cosmetics, which only made her long black hair and fair skin more striking, evoking pity at first sight. It was Princess Bao’an: “Brother Xuan hasn’t come to see me in so long—I feared you’d forgotten me. I wanted to lighten your burden somewhat and make amends for my previous mistakes.”

The translator from Hong Lu Temple said: “Your Highness, the envoy says the crown princess consort is of exceptional wisdom and grace—the most outstanding lady of Great Chenming they have ever met.”

Li Xuan looked at Yang Fu but said nothing.

“Atiniye says the crown princess consort is a person of understanding. They like her ladyship, and she has explained much on Your Highness’s behalf. The Buddha’s bone can be received with Your Highness as the primary welcomer.”

Li Xuan’s gaze swept behind Yang Fu. Even Atiniye, who usually acted domineering, had indeed put on a smiling face. Seeing Li Xuan look over, he smiled even more smugly.

Before Li Xuan’s expression could change color, Meng Guangshen pulled him aside, also apologizing: “Your subject knows Princess Bao’an is still confined, but to ensure the Buddha’s bone is successfully delivered to Chang’an, I had no choice but to resort to this measure.”

“The Seventeenth Princess is fluent in Sanskrit and is an old acquaintance of the envoys. Upon meeting, she resolved the misunderstanding between the envoys and Your Highness. The envoys are now willing to send the Buddha’s bone to Chang’an. However, there was a miscommunication—they mistook the princess for the crown princess consort.”

“The envoys are so fond of the princess. Now that we’ve just reached an agreement, if we clarify the truth, it might cause displeasure again. Better to let the error stand and persist until the welcoming of the Buddha’s bone is complete—it won’t be much longer anyway. Your Highness should understand which matter weighs heavier.”

Meng Guangshen spoke elegantly and courteously, seeming to discuss and negotiate, but to Li Xuan’s ears, it had another flavor entirely.

What a “let the error stand”—this was using pressure from the Liuli Kingdom envoys to force him to memorialize the sage to establish Yang Fu as crown princess consort. Otherwise, this state affair risked being bungled.

Seeing Li Xuan’s somber expression, Atiniye smiled and quietly said to Yang Fu: “Princess, rest assured. How would such a lowborn, dull-witted woman dare humiliate the princess? I’ve already arranged a fine show—just wait for the Buddha’s Birthday Lantern Festival.”

Yang Fu smiled with difficulty.

Thunder boomed outside, and the air inside the room was stifling. Dewu, the young monk among the three envoys, suddenly stood up, saying he wanted to pray for blessings at each palace.

Now, wearing a straw raincoat, Dewu was wandering about the inner palace, leading everyone to the Eastern Palace. Li Xuan grew nervous, afraid Qingxuan Pavilion would embarrass itself, so he only had everyone stand on the bridge and observe from afar.

Zheng Zhiyi lived up to expectations—in the middle of the night, she gave the envoys a show of Great Chenming palace maids not wearing shoes, dancing wildly as a group in the rain. Now they had lit lamps again.

Li Xuan couldn’t help saying: “Have you figured out what they were doing just now with all those bright lights and commotion?”

The young eunuch said: “Your Highness, it seems they were eating hotpot.”

Hearing this, Li Xuan was so angry he laughed.

Setting aside today’s events—in the past when he came to Qingxuan Pavilion, everything from top to bottom was deathly silent. When he wasn’t there, they were actually so happy they ate hotpot in the middle of the night?

Seeing the envoy writing and drawing for so long, not knowing what he was recording, Li Xuan feared damage to Great Chenming’s reputation and felt uneasy: “Go ask the envoy if we can leave now.”

Dewu finally put away his silk cloth, raised his hand to salute Li Xuan, and said warmly: “Crown Prince, please present this painting to the lady of this palace.”

—

The next day, the mounted painting was delivered to Qingxuan Pavilion.

Qun Qing discovered this wasn’t an edict of punishment but a scroll painting. Somewhat disappointed, she unrolled it.

Immediately, everyone in the courtyard crowded over to see the scroll’s contents. Even Zheng Zhiyi rushed out from the pavilion.

A yellowish-blue painting appeared before them.

Shou Xi said: “Yesterday, the Liuli Kingdom envoy Dewu passed by Qingxuan Hall and witnessed palace maids protecting flowers in the rainy night. Appreciating the good lady’s palace for harboring compassionate thoughts toward protecting living creatures, he created the ‘Flower Rescue Picture’ to present to the good lady. His Highness rewards Qingxuan Pavilion with a pair of jade ruyi scepters, two auspicious beasts made of glass, and one bundle of agate beads.”

Lan Yue gasped.

Rewards? She hadn’t misheard? Rewards?

Zheng Zhiyi frowned at the painting, studying it for a long time: “We were drenched in rain while he painted a picture. Is he mocking us?”

Shou Xi choked: “Not mockery—appreciation…”

“It’s painted so ugly, and he dares call it appreciation.” Zheng Zhiyi leaned in to examine it, brow still furrowed. “Why are these little figures so ugly? Are our bodies this thin? Are our heads this big? Can he even paint…”

Lan Yue covered Zheng Zhiyi’s mouth.

Qun Qing paused: “Good lady, this is Liuli Kingdom miniature painting—this is precisely its style. It takes great effort to paint. Since the envoy presented a painting, we servants should hang it in the main hall as a keepsake.” She ordered someone to hang it.

Only then did Shou Xi’s expression improve: “Young Lady Qing is indeed knowledgeable. Do you know that the envoy praised Princess Bao’an profusely? If the young monk Dewu hadn’t painted this picture praising the good lady, the envoys wouldn’t have regarded her at all. She is His Highness’s legitimate wife after all—alas…”

“The Buddha’s Birthday Lantern Festival approaches. Young Lady Qing must properly teach the good lady the protocols. Oh yes, how is that udumbara flower doing?”

Thinking of the seed cut in half, Lan Yue could barely stand, her face paling in waves. But Qun Qing’s expression remained calm as she looked at Shou Xi: “There’s no problem—you can rest assured, Eunuch.”