Outside the pale silk gauze canopy, physicians knelt in a row on the ground. Xiao Qi paced back and forth in rapid, agitated strides, hands clasped behind his back. Never before had so many people entered the inner chamber at once — the Imperial Physicians’ Academy seemed to have sent nearly every physician it possessed. The sight of this scene upon opening my eyes sent a sharp constriction through my heart, and I was seized with terror too great for sound. The memory of losing the child years ago leapt suddenly to the surface. Was it the same result this time as well…? I dared not let my thoughts go further. I forced myself to sit up, which startled the maidservant waiting in the outer chamber. She let out a low cry: “The Princess Consort has woken!”

Xiao Qi spun around and strode to the bedside in several large steps. Heedless of the others present, he lifted the bed curtain with one hand and fixed his gaze steadily upon me, as though he could not find the words to speak.

The others quickly bowed and withdrew. In a moment there were only the two of us, facing each other in silence. I was suddenly afraid — as I had been the last time — of hearing the worst from his lips. And yet he seized me with sudden urgency, his voice hoarse: “How could you hide this from me and take such a risk!”

I stared at him blankly, my thoughts still hazy — so he knew, after all. So that meant… Something seemed to collide with the center of my chest and rush open inside me, spreading through my body, bursting into a thousand points of radiant light, blazing everything in my field of vision to brilliant brightness.

“A’Wu! You foolish girl…” His voice broke. He held me with the utmost care, as though cradling fragile porcelain in the hollow of his palm, his eyes carrying an expression that held wonder and joy and anger all at once, impossible to separate. I stared at him, dazed, and then his frenzied kisses fell upon my forehead, my cheeks, my lips… I could not believe it — that heaven’s grace had come so easily, that the child I had longed for through countless dreams had quietly arrived.

Before we had even gathered ourselves from the shock and joy, well-wishers were already arriving one after another, nearly wearing down the threshold of the residence.

The last accident still weighed on our hearts with lingering fear. The physicians were especially concerned that I might not be able to endure another setback.

Xiao Qi issued a completely unreasonable edict — he confined me to the inner chamber for three full days, forbidding me to leave the bed, forbidding anyone to disturb my rest. Even my brother and the Empress Hu were turned away at the door. Not until the physicians confirmed I was in good health did he lift the confinement and restore my freedom.

Everyone showed joy on their faces — but lurking behind this happiness was an even deeper anxiety. I understood better than anyone: one moment’s carelessness, and I would face danger of the most terrible kind. Xiao Qi was even more caught between gladness and dread, on edge at every moment.

Even the physicians worried I would not be able to withstand the ordeal of childbirth. Yet, against all expectation, not only did I not take to my sickbed — my spirits were remarkably good. Even foods I had always avoided and disliked I suddenly found myself craving. I no longer dreaded cold and chill as I once had. My entire self seemed to have been infused with boundless energy. Attendant Xu laughed and sighed that this child was surely a mischievous little heir. A’Yue said she hoped for a little princess beautiful as an immortal. The difference between an heir and a princess was of course enormous. I too had once fervently hoped for a boy — but now, in this moment, I suddenly felt that none of it mattered. As long as it was our child, that was enough.

My brother was finally permitted to see me. The moment he stepped through the door he erupted in loud curses at Xiao Qi for being intolerable — how could one bar an uncle from the door? Though he was already a father with children of his own, this was his first time becoming an uncle, and he was beaming with undisguised delight. Of the concubines who accompanied him, only Bi Se had come. Zhuyan, who usually stayed close to his side, was nowhere to be seen. I casually asked after Zhuyan, and my brother’s expression immediately darkened.

My brother told me that on that day Xiao Qi had confined both Qian’er and my aunt under house arrest at the Duke Zhenguo’s residence. Yet while Attendant Xu came to the residence to look after me, the two of them had managed to escape in the night, which alerted the guards at the Noon Gate. They were caught on the spot, and the incident spread throughout the imperial capital at once, becoming common knowledge. I, shut up by Xiao Qi within the residence, had known nothing of any of it.

I was furious and alarmed in equal measure. “How utterly senseless! The Duke Zhenguo’s residence — of all places — how could they simply walk out whenever they pleased?”

My brother’s expression was grim as iron. “It was Zhuyan who assisted them from within, allowing them to slip out disguised among the serving maids.”

“Zhuyan?” Looking at my brother’s face, I did not know what to say. My heart ached only for Zhuyan.

“This was my negligence — I never anticipated that my aunt would set her mind to exploiting her.” My brother sighed heavily.

My aunt and Zhuyan had always been on close terms, and she had even privately adopted Zhuyan as a sworn daughter. I had originally thought that Zhuyan, coming from a humble background and having lost her mother early, simply wanted to attach herself to a respected elder of the Wang clan for protection. Looking at this now, it seemed she had truly taken my aunt’s words as a command, and genuinely regarded Qian’er as a younger sister to be sheltered and shielded. The image of Zhuyan’s bright, frank laugh flashed before my eyes — that woman in crimson robes, dancing like a butterfly, her smile blooming like a flower. Could she have known that this moment of foolishness had pushed herself into an abyss?

That a daughter of the Wang family was to be sent as a peace bride to the Tujue had already spread throughout the capital. But Wang Qian’s sudden attempted escape, which became common knowledge overnight, had turned the entire capital into a place buzzing with ridicule of the Wang family. The Chief Left Chancellor himself had supposedly connived at a concubine-maid helping his half-sister escape in secret, abandoning the great matter of the peace marriage — once this spread, not only was my brother utterly disgraced, he could hardly escape the charge of failing in his duty of supervision.

All manner of rumors sprang up. Bad news always travels at the fastest speed. The harder one tries to suppress it, the farther it spreads.

Wang Qian was now entirely unsuitable to serve as the peace princess. With no other option, I could only select another candidate from among the imperial clan’s young women, designate her as the Empress Dowager’s adopted daughter, and send her in the guise of a Wang family daughter for the peace marriage.

Things had reached this point. I had to step forward to clean up the mess — to stop every wagging tongue.

The more humiliating the situation, the more I could not let a hint of weariness show. When my toilette was complete, I turned slowly to face the mirror and looked steadily at my own reflection — palace brocade and magnificent robes, wide sleeves and generous sash, a towering coiffure pinned with a phoenix hairpin sending rays of treasure-light in all directions. Pearl-dust and cinnabar had been evenly applied to both cheeks, covering the pallor of my complexion. The deep crimson mark at the center of my brow added a cold, lethal brilliance. In this familiar, striking face I saw, plainly, the reflection of my aunt from all those years ago.

The imperial procession was magnificent and imposing, the escort in orderly formation as I drove straight into the palace.

Empress Hu, in phoenix crown and court robes, hurried out to meet me from the main hall of the central palace.

“Your subject wife pays her respects to the Empress.” I inclined my body. The Empress Hu quickly stepped forward to help me rise.

“Please, please rise — the Princess Consort is of golden weight and need not stand on ceremony.” Though the Empress Hu had also been caught off guard by my arrival, she remained composed and dignified, not losing the bearing of the mistress of the six palaces.

I dispensed with pleasantries. With a grave expression, I said: “Your subject wife has come today expressly to ask the Empress’s forgiveness.”

The Empress Hu was startled. “What are you saying, Princess Consort?”

“Your subject wife has failed in her supervision, and as a result the younger sister in her charge has acted recklessly and committed a grave error in her youth. I trust the Empress has already been informed.” I looked at her steadily.

The Empress Hu paused briefly, then gave a clear, direct nod. “Word of it has reached me.”

I spoke with solemnity: “That this situation arose is due to your subject wife’s failure in oversight, for which she cannot evade responsibility. Wang Qian’s single transgression has delayed the great matter of the peace marriage and brought disgrace upon the family and the state. Your subject wife has therefore come today to deliver the Marquis Xinyuan’s wife and daughter to stand before the imperial presence and receive whatever judgment the Empress sees fit to render.”

The inner attendants brought my aunt and her daughter forward. In just those few days, my aunt’s hair had grown disheveled and she had aged visibly. Qian’er’s complexion was also dim, yet she remained as stubborn as ever. Attendant Xu, furious with the mother and daughter, had clearly dealt with them severely. The four governesses following behind were all women notorious throughout the Disciplinary Directorate for their harsh methods.

“Though there is some room for sympathy, what you two have done is, in the end, far too reckless.” The Empress Hu glanced at me from the corner of her eye. Seeing me nod, she assumed a dignified expression. “In consideration of the lifelong loyalty of the Marquis Xinyuan, this palace will exercise leniency in its judgment…”

“Empress — a prince who breaks the law is guilty just as a commoner. One must not make exceptions on account of family standing, violating the principles of justice.” I cut off the Empress Hu’s words and spoke in a cold, measured tone. “Your subject wife humbly requests that the Marquis Xinyuan’s wife be sent to the Ci’an Temple to reflect upon her transgressions. Wang Qian’s conduct has been improper — she should be sent to the Disciplinary Directorate to be managed and punished.”

The Empress Hu went still. Everyone around her fell silent in awe. “Disciplinary Directorate” — those three characters were a nightmare no palace person ever wished to hear. They meant that all the days ahead would be a life worse than death.

My aunt collapsed to the floor, her eyes glassy and vacant, as though her mind had gone elsewhere. Qian’er struggled to go to her, but Attendant Xu stepped forward and blocked her way.

Qian’er turned and fixed me with a look of fierce hatred. “A’Wu sister — I heard you are with child, Qian’er has not yet had the chance to congratulate you. Please take the very best care of yourself, please do not suffer any mishap — otherwise it would be two lives…”

The last word — “gone” — had not yet left her mouth when Attendant Xu’s palm came down in a sharp slap, the blow landing full and heavy, sending her staggering backward.

“Qian’er!” My aunt screamed, and lunged toward her with all her strength, but before she could so much as touch the hem of Qian’er’s garment, she was dragged back by two governesses.

My aunt finally broke into hysterics: “You people killed my one son, and now you’ve come for my daughter — sooner or later your entire clan will reap its retribution!”

“Take them away.” I listened, without expression, as my aunt cursed and screamed all the way out, dragged along with Qian’er.

The Empress Hu sat to one side with her head bowed, silent, her complexion drained of color as though she had not yet recovered from the shock.

Qian’er’s offence could have been judged lightly or heavily. With Xiao Qi’s power behind me, even had I chosen to suppress it entirely, no one would have dared speak against it openly.

Yet the severity of the punishment I had imposed on my aunt and Qian’er struck awe into the hearts of everyone who had been waiting to see how things unfolded. Before they could begin their censure, I had already sealed their mouths shut.

My brother and Xiao Qi deliberated over the peace marriage until evening, and he stayed at the residence for the meal.

In the midst of our meal and conversation, A’Yue came hurrying in to report that the chief steward of the Prince Jiangxia’s residence urgently requested to see him.

“What matter of such importance could drive him to come all the way here?” My brother frowned in displeasure and set down his silver chopsticks. He had been greatly preoccupied with the matter of Zhuyan these past few days.

A foreboding premonition swept through me. I was just about to say something to soothe him when I saw the chief steward run in — not even completing the proper formalities, he simply dropped to his knees on the floor, his face the color of ash. “Your Highness, something has happened at the residence.”

“What is going on now?” My brother did not even look up. He set down his wine cup with a heavy thud.

“Madam Zhu has taken her own life.”

A clear, bright crack rang out. The jade cup slipped from my brother’s hand and shattered on the floor.

Zhuyan had always been my brother’s most beloved concubine. Even after committing such a transgression, he had not subjected her to any harsh punishment — only confined her to her chambers and ordered her to reflect in seclusion. For several days he had not gone to her.

No one had imagined that Zhuyan, whose nature burned as hot as fire, unable to endure my brother’s coldness and the mockery of the other concubines in the household, would hang herself from a beam. And the one who had incited the rest of the concubines to pile on with taunts and cruel words against Zhuyan — the very person who had entered the household alongside her, bound to her as a sister — was Bi Se.

My brother saw only the surface display of brilliant competing beauties and the constant jockeying for his favor. The ruthless scheming beneath it all lay hidden under the blossoms and splendor — and he alone could not see it.

Zhuyan’s death, and the cruelty concealed beneath the rivalry among the concubines, broke my brother’s spirit and left him cold and desolate. The death of my sister-in-law in those early years had been a source of self-reproach he carried to this day. Now he became all the more convinced that he was cursed by fate — that any woman who came close to him was doomed to a sorrowful end.

Three days after Zhuyan was laid to rest, my brother dismissed all the concubines who had borne him no children and sent them home to their families with generous gifts of gold and silver.

He was a man of true and genuine tenderness toward women. Even one as vicious as Bi Se, he could not bring himself to have her killed — he only drove her from the household.

He said that all women under heaven were pitiable. Hearing this said by my brother’s own mouth — I did not know whether it was enlightenment, or only resignation.

I stayed with my brother as he personally sealed the Suyu Villa shut. All the infinite pleasures and gallantry of former days were locked away behind those heavy, silent doors, sealed off beneath a film of dust.

He turned and walked away alone, still in white robes and black hair bound in a jade crown, still carrying a trace of that old unrestrained spirit — yet the faint melancholy in the depths of his eyes could not be concealed.

“Let us go.” I nestled close beside him as I had in childhood, and took his hand. He looked down at me, his gaze warm.

Attendant Xu harbored a deep resentment toward my aunt and Qian’er, convinced that every misfortune had been their doing — and that without them, my brother would not have suffered such heartbreak.

She walked beside me along a small path lined with purple wisteria, murmuring as we went that I had been far too soft-hearted and should simply have ordered Wang Qian’s death, to eliminate the danger at its root.

It had been a long time since I had seen her so furious. After all, my brother too was a child she had watched grow up with her own eyes.

Purple wisteria branches trailed down overhead. Pink-purple blossoms hung in heavy clusters, their stamens and filaments trembling softly in the air.

I let out a slow breath and extended both hands. My slender fingertips were pale, drained of all color. “These hands have already been stained with blood beyond counting. I only hope they will never be stained with the blood of those who are mine.”

Attendant Xu’s gaze shook with emotion. She let out a long sigh, still hesitating. “This old servant only fears that troubles will remain for the future.”

I smiled, my heart hollowed out with bleakness. “What people call ‘future troubles’ is nothing more than their own cowardice. As for love and hatred, fortune and misfortune — they are all within my own hands. There is no room for anyone else to determine them.”

The roster of young women from the imperial clan to serve as the peace princess had been reviewed by me over and over, without my being able to settle on a satisfactory choice. Any family with some name and standing was reluctant to send their daughter to be married off to a foreign land. The candidates who had been nominated were all women from declining households. I had no requirement for this woman to be particularly beautiful or clever — only that she be loyal and trustworthy, and dedicated above all to the service of her country and of Xiao Qi.

While I was at a loss, Gu Caiwei suddenly came to call on me unannounced. It had been a long time since I had seen her. Since that day we had parted ways, I had not known how she fared. This girl was not one to easily seek help from others. Her sudden appearance at my door today must have been on account of my brother, once again.

Following my instructions, A’Yue brought her straight to the study to see me. The sky was overcast today and I had little energy to move about. I was simply sitting idly in the study, browsing through some old manuscripts of musical scores.

The curtain was half-raised. A slender figure in a deep scarlet jacket and skirt stepped gracefully inside and made a bow, offering me her respects.

This was a very polished and radiant toilette. It made her look even more exquisitely lovely than usual, with a faint smile in her brow and eyes, none of the melancholy and drawn look she had worn before.

“What a striking beauty.” I smiled in admiration. “Be seated — no need for ceremony here with me.”

She sat as I invited her to, and spoke softly and carefully. “Congratulations to the Princess Consort.”

I smiled. “Thank you for your kind thought.”

“Caiwei has been remiss in her etiquette in coming to offer felicitations so late.” Her voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s hum, her cheeks glowing red, as though the words cost her great effort.

I genuinely could not hold back a laugh, and teased her gently: “You clearly are not suited to these formal pleasantries. There is no need to practice empty courtesy for no reason.”

She blushed a deep crimson and bit her lip — then, a moment later, exhaled a long breath and laughed a little herself. Watching her sweet, bashful, flustered expression, my warmth toward her deepened several degrees.

“It was not empty courtesy — I am genuinely happy.” She raised her head. Her eyes were luminous and bright.

Her words suddenly warmed my heart. “I know.” I looked at her with a gentle smile and said softly: “Caiwei, you are different from the others. When you say congratulations, it is without fail a sincere congratulations — a sincerity worth more than any gift. Thank you.” She blushed again, lowered her head, and said nothing, only smiling.

I waited quietly for a while without hearing her speak, and was suddenly struck by the thought that perhaps I had been petty in my assumptions — perhaps she had come only to offer her congratulations, and had no request to make. I was just about to speak when she prostrated herself before me again, kneeling straight in front of me. “Princess Consort, Caiwei has come today for two reasons: first, to offer her congratulations; second, she has something to ask.”

This girl was good in every way, only a little too stiff and awkward. I smiled. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Caiwei presumes to put herself forward — she is willing to go to the Tujue as the peace bride.” She kept her head lowered, her expression unreadable, but her voice was resolute.

I half thought I had misheard. I stared at her in astonishment, and then understanding slowly dawned. “Why?”

She seemed to have prepared her words in advance. She delivered a polished and flowing speech of patriotic principle, as smoothly as if recited from memory.

“Save those words for the court ministers. I want only your true answer.” I frowned and rose, walking over to stand before her.

Gu Caiwei kept her head lowered without looking up, without answering. Her slender shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly. After a long silence she finally raised her face — eyes brimming with tears, yet her gaze unwavering with absolute resolution. “Since it is impossible to win so much as a single glance from him, then let him never forget me.”

“Nonsense!” I turned away with a sweep of my sleeve. “Do you think that if you do this, Prince Jiangxia will try to keep you from going?”

Gu Caiwei shook her head vigorously. “No — it is not that!”

“Feelings between a man and a woman cannot be mingled with matters of state.” I turned my back to her and said sternly: “I do not wish to hear such words again. Go home.”

Behind me came a sound — a crack — as she brought her forehead to the floor in a deep, forceful kowtow.

“To live one’s whole life without the one you love — even if you marry another, it is a lifetime of quiet despair. Princess Consort, you too are a woman — I beg you to have compassion for Caiwei!”

I said sharply: “You are still so young — what do you mean, a lifetime of quiet despair!”

Attendant Xu lifted the curtain and entered, evidently having heard my angry rebuke from outside. Taking in the scene before her, she assumed a stern expression and said coldly: “The Princess Consort needs quiet and rest. There must be no disturbance or commotion.”

I smiled, a little helplessly, and waved my hand. “I am tired. You may withdraw.” Gu Caiwei remained kneeling there in silence, tears falling quietly, stubbornly refusing to rise. Suppressing the reluctance in my heart, I swept my sleeve and left. I instructed Attendant Xu that no one was to be rude to her — as long as she made no scene and caused no trouble, she could stay.

I leaned against the bed, brows furrowed in quiet thought, wondering what had happened to Gu Caiwei that had brought her to such a state of despair. Without meaning to, I fell into a doze.

I woke in the late evening. Just as I had finished washing and dressing, Xiao Qi came into the room. His very first words were: “What is that woman at the door about?”

“Which woman?” I had no idea what he was referring to.

“That… what is her name…” He frowned, trying to recall. “The Gu family’s daughter.”

I said in surprise: “Gu Caiwei! She is still there?” Xiao Qi nodded. “It is her. Did you punish her by making her kneel at the door? What has she done wrong?”

I was momentarily at a loss for words. By now the sky had gone entirely dark. Heavy clouds had gathered, and somewhere in the distance a wind was rising — the curtain hanging before me rustled and clattered. I sent word to the Prince Jiangxia residence to summon my brother, but he was slow to arrive. The night wind already carried a hint of rain, and rain was building in the air. Gu Caiwei, still stubbornly kneeling at the entrance, had already been there for nearly a full day.

“If your brother does not come, does she intend to go on kneeling there until she dies?” Xiao Qi said with impatience, his brows creased.

“What a thing to say.” I shot him a glare, then sighed. “She is a pitiable and admirable woman. Do not speak of her like that.”

Xiao Qi looked at me with surprise. “It is rare for you to call a young woman admirable.”

I sighed. “She dares to persist. She neither gives up what she holds in her heart, nor reaches for what she has no right to claim.”

Xiao Qi was silent for a moment, then nodded. “That is indeed remarkable.”

A gust of wind caught the pearl curtain and sent it flying up high, filling the air with a clear, cascading clatter that lingered in the ear and left the heart all the more unsettled.

The serving maid quickly drew the tall windows shut.

“Prince Jiangxia has arrived.” A’Yue lifted the curtain and reported in a low voice.

Xiao Qi and I turned in surprise. My brother appeared in the doorway, dressed in his usual white robes, with a look of quiet desolation.

“Brother, what has actually happened between you and her?” I frowned, not knowing quite where to begin.

He languidly dismissed the serving maids, then sat down, subdued.

“I have already spoken with Caiwei — she will not listen to me.” My brother’s face bore not a trace of his usual smile, none of his ordinary free and easy manner.

“Is she not wholly hoping that you will change your heart?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

My brother lifted his teacup and stared into it in silence without answering.

I was about to press him, but saw Xiao Qi give a faint shake of his head.

My brother murmured: “The day she came to my household to see me — perhaps I said things that were too final. At the time I still did not know that Gu Yunwen had been forcing her into a marriage. I only wanted to cut off her misguided hopes, and thought it would be better for her to give up and move on.”

That there should be yet another layer of circumstance between them — and thinking of that elder brother of Gu Caiwei’s and his petty, mean-spirited face — it was enough to fill one with revulsion.

“Who has Gu Yunwen promised her to?” I recalled her saying that she would rather be married far away to the Tujue than be wed to someone else, slowly withering in quiet despair.

My brother’s brow creased. “A wealthy merchant family from the northwest.”

Beneath my shock and indignation, before I had even opened my mouth, Xiao Qi’s low voice cut in with a single cold syllable: “Shameless.”

That word, applied to Gu Yunwen, fit him precisely. This behavior was fit only for the pettiest of common people. How had the Gu family, once a house of distinguished nobility, sunk to this state? Most of the family’s estate had been squandered by him, and now he was even selling off his only sister. To what depths had a house of marquises and earls fallen? Gu Caiwei going to plead with my brother had most likely been after she learned of the marriage arrangement, clinging to one final thread of hope — only to be flatly refused.

“That day I did not understand the full situation, and my words wounded her. Just now I agreed to go to her brother and propose that she enter my household as a concubine — she has already firmly refused.” My brother’s expression was somber.

What depth of despair could drive a weak young woman to willingly cast aside everything — to sever her feelings, and go alone to a foreign land? For a moment I felt an odd dislocation, as though I were looking back at the many things I had endured myself. Even in my darkest times I had never felt such hopelessness — because I had never been left to face things alone. There had always been one person, the most trusted one, standing at my side. Compared to Gu Caiwei — or to a woman like Zhuyan — I had been inexpressibly fortunate.

Thunder rumbled and rolled overhead. Raindrops struck the glazed roof tiles, an urgent and irregular drumming, each beat striking at the heart.

“A’Yue — send someone out with an umbrella. At least hold it over her head to keep off the rain for now.” I said in helpless resignation.

My brother suddenly stood. “Let me go.”

Xiao Qi, who had been silent for a long while, now spoke: “A’Su, if you cannot love her, it is better to let her go.”

My brother stopped short and looked toward Xiao Qi, his brow furrowed. “Let her go — truly go to the Tujue?”

“Each person has their own fate. Being sent to the Tujue may not necessarily be the worst thing for her.” I felt a sudden dawning of understanding. “Brother — if you take her in out of pity alone, you may only wound her more deeply.”

My brother’s expression was wistful and irresolute. He stood there for a long time — and then turned and walked out.

For a moment Xiao Qi and I sat facing each other in silence, listening only to the sound of wind and rain, which felt all the more desolate.

“You and your brother have truly been born with each other’s natures reversed.” Xiao Qi suddenly sighed and said: “A’Su appears to be a free spirit but is in truth timid — he does not dare to give his heart fully to anyone, only knowing how to avoid and evade. If he could be as decisive and courageous as you, he would not have caused so many women such heartbreak.”

“Am I courageous?” I smiled ruefully.

He nodded and smiled. “You are the most formidable woman I have ever encountered.”

Hardly a kind thing to say — before the sound of his voice had fully faded, I had already flung a worn old book directly at him.

My brother accompanied Gu Caiwei through a night of rain. She remained unmoved and would not change her mind.

I did not know whether she was too clever or too foolish. From that point on, my brother could never again forget a woman named Gu Caiwei — and yet she herself had destroyed with her own hands the happiness that had been within her reach. Perhaps it was better so. For a man like my brother, the thing ungained, the thing already lost, may in the end be the most precious of all. The entanglement of Gu Caiwei and my brother was enough to make one sigh. The hardest thing in the world to force is the meeting of two hearts. For a man and a woman to find each other at exactly the right time, in exactly the right season — if that moment is missed, everything turns to emptiness. Even with a thousand kinds of charm and ten thousand kinds of grace, it all amounts to no more than passing each other by.

Speaking honestly — Gu Caiwei’s unyielding, upright spirit made her, in truth, very nearly the ideal candidate for the peace marriage. Several days later, by imperial decree of the Empress Dowager, Gu Caiwei was taken as an adopted daughter, elevated to the rank of Princess Changning, and given in marriage to the Tujue.

In the desolate reaches of the frontier, the vast sands beyond the border, her homeland would be forever separated from her by distance. Gu Caiwei had no other wish. She asked for only one thing: that Prince Jiangxia himself serve as the escort, to personally accompany her out of the frontier pass.

My brother agreed on the spot.

On the day the princess departed the capital, rain fell over the city from morning until night.

Misty rain, heartbreak for those who must part.