Chapter 01: Splendor
This year, the thirteenth of August marks my fifteenth birthday — the day of my coming-of-age ceremony.
My coming-of-age ceremony was presided over jointly by the Empress and Grand Princess Jinmin. The Crown Princess led the inner court ladies in attendance, and the great noble families of the capital all sent their formal congratulatory cards.
In the grand ceremonial hall, I wore five layers of elaborate finery, the wide skirts trailing in a long sweep behind me. I walked slowly across the jade steps laid with brocade, and before the hanging portraits of the Wang ancestors, I held my breath and knelt, pressing my palms together and raising them level with my brows in a deep, reverent bow.
My mother, Grand Princess Jinmin, wore an apricot-yellow gown embroidered with golden phoenix patterns, the phoenix pendant at her brow swaying gently, reflecting the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
The Empress, magnificently attired, my closest paternal aunt, stepped graciously down from her phoenix throne and regarded me with a warm smile.
My mother personally gathered my long hair and arranged it into a high, layered coiffure.
My aunt inserted an imperially bestowed eight-treasure glazed golden hairpin into my coiffure, then used a crescent-shaped ornament strung with eighteen large, perfectly round pearls to secure the hair along my brow, revealing my smooth forehead.
My mother held back her tears and smiled, her gaze unwavering as she watched me kneel before the ancestors, kneel before the Empress, and kneel before my parents and elder brother, all to the ceremonial officer’s chanted recitations. When the rites were complete, I rose gracefully, lifted my face, and looked around.
Beneath the resplendent splendor of the full hall, everyone fell into silence.
The tall candles and brilliant lanterns cast my shadow upon the gleaming palace tiles — my cloud-coiffure lofty and magnificent, my bearing elegant and graceful.
Everywhere I passed, the lingering, entranced gazes of the assembled guests followed, causing the ceremonial officer to forget his chanting.
Standing alone at the center of that radiant, flowing brilliance, all the light converged upon me alone.
Meeting the eyes of the crowd, I lifted my face slightly — solitary and proud, without support yet filled with dignity.
For the first time in my life, I stood before a multitude alone, with no parents or elder brother standing ahead of me, no sheltering arms spread wide to protect me.
In that moment, everyone felt so distant from me, leaving me to stand here alone.
Among all those watching eyes, there was only one pair absent.
Those eyes that were forever gentle and smiling.
I knew then — from this moment, the days of before would never return.
The following morning, I was urged awake early by Elder Sister Xu. Before dawn had broken, I had already begun dressing, powdering, and arranging my hair.
Today was the first time I would pay my respects to my parents according to adult feminine etiquette.
When my makeup was complete, Elder Sister Xu and Jin’er along with the other attendants stared at me, speechless for a long while.
The woman in the mirror wore her hair in a double flying-immortal coiffure, jade-white silk embroidered with silver phoenix patterns, overlaid with a thin rose-gauze outer robe.
Clearly it was me — and yet clearly, it was no longer me.
The previous night’s rain had cleared by morning, and the gentle breeze scattered blossoms from the osmanthus tree outside the corridor, drifting down in cascades, covering the ground in fragrant petals.
Turning the corner past the western corridor, I came face to face with my elder brother — white robes, wide sleeves, his garments billowing as he approached.
He let out a surprised exclamation, circled around me once, raised his pair of arching sword-like brows high, his eyes full of admiration and amazement.
I deliberately tilted my chin up and mimicked his brow-raising expression, smiling sidelong at him, letting him look me up and down as he pleased.
“Her smile so alluring, her eyes so bright… what a magnificent person she is.” He struck a pose of rakish elegance and began reciting in a languid, drawn-out tone, his dark eyes glinting with a peculiar amusement.
I pressed my lips together and said nothing, letting my eyes wander up and down him — I wanted to see what game he was playing today.
My brother tapped his feather fan and continued reciting: “The daughter of Marquis Qi, the wife of Marquis Wei, the younger sister of the Eastern Palace, the aunt of Marquis Xing, Duke Tan…”
The final two words — “her intimate companion” — had not yet left his mouth before I swung up my hand, snatched the feather fan, and struck him soundly with it.
He burst out laughing and dodged away, still teasing as he went: “Marquis Wei, Marquis Wei — where is my little A’Wu’s Marquis Wei?”
I bit my lip, but felt the heat rise behind my ears; my cheeks were faintly burning.
“Father is not Marquis Qi, and you are not the Eastern Palace,” I glared at him with a pout. “If Father hears such nonsense, just see if he doesn’t break your legs!”
“Though not exactly so, it is not far off — are you not the younger sister of the Eastern Palace?” Seeing my face flush crimson, that insufferable person grew all the more triumphant, grinning as he leaned in. “Yesterday, your elder brother cast a divination for you — the hexagram says that our little A’Wu’s star of love will stir this year, and she is destined to meet her true match!”
I stamped my foot, reached under his arm, and began tickling him. My brother’s greatest weakness was being tickled — he scrambled frantically to dodge, and the two of us tumbled into a laughing scuffle.
Jin’er and the others, tasked with minding our antics, stepped aside, giggling.
Elder Sister Xu was beside herself, half amused, half exasperated. “Please stop, my dear little Commandery Princess… His Excellency has just returned to the manor — if you carry on any further, this servant will be punished again!”
Taking advantage of Elder Sister Xu grabbing hold of me, my brother managed to break free, laughing as he ran off.
I turned back with a glare. “Elder Sister Xu! You always take his side!”
Elder Sister Xu covered her mouth and laughed softly, her manner graceful and refined, her voice gentle: “A stirring of the love star is a wonderful thing — why should the Commandery Princess be vexed?”
I stared at her, not knowing whether to be annoyed or to laugh. Even Elder Sister Xu was teasing me now.
“His Excellency is still in the front hall — the Commandery Princess ought to go pay her respects to the Grand Princess first,” the attendant Jin’er said softly beside me, smiling as she offered me a timely rescue.
“Very well.” I feigned indifference, turned and walked away — yet quietly dipped my head, hiding the blush that had risen to my cheeks once more.
We truly were a pair of mischievous siblings, and had always been so since we were small.
In the eyes of the world, my brother was elegant and debonair, and I was beautiful and distinguished — both the sort of radiant, admirable figures others could only marvel at.
And yet, the refined grace of illustrious families is nothing more than a facade.
In private, we were an ordinary pair of siblings just like any young man and woman from a common household — we too could be naughty and rambunctious, quarreling endlessly over the smallest trifles; we too could be wilfully spoiled, forever playing the part of children who never quite grew up before our parents; we too could feel sorrow and helplessness, hiding away a small and secret tenderness in our hearts…
A gust of wind blew past, and tiny golden osmanthus blossoms fell rustling down into the corridor, their rich fragrance washing over me.
The osmanthus had bloomed a little early this year; now it was already beginning to fall.
I walked on with my head bent, but my brother’s words had stirred something in my heart, and all at once I felt filled with quiet melancholy.
What was the point of talking about a stirring love star and a destined match… my destined one had gone to the imperial mausoleum to observe mourning rites, and before the full three years were up, how could he return to take me as his bride?
Three years — I could not fathom how immeasurably long that would be.
I gazed into the distant, hazy sky and let out a quiet sigh.
That remote imperial mausoleum, beyond layer upon layer of mountains — by now, the autumn chill must have already begun to set in there.