The watchman’s clapper sounded the hour of the Ox, and the heavy palace doors of Yongshou Palace quietly fell shut, the bolt sliding into place.
Consort Yi sat before her dressing table, her cloud-soft hair loosened and flowing free. She drew a pearl-inlaid ivory comb slowly through its long strands, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back at her was as lovely and youthful as it had been ten years ago — time had left no trace upon it.
Recalling what had happened earlier that day, a shadow of worry settled over her face. She sat before the mirror combing her hair for what felt like an age, her body as still as if rooted to the stool, not moving an inch — so lost in thought that she did not even notice when the Emperor had emerged from the washroom.
It was only when the maidservant beside her gave a quiet reminder that she startled, as if waking from a dream. She hastily set down the comb and hurried forward to greet the Emperor.
“Your Majesty.” She took the cloth from the palace attendant’s hands and wrung the water from the Emperor’s hair herself. The cloth had been perfumed with the zishu incense the Emperor always used — as she dried his hair, the scent would transfer onto him. It was a method of scenting unique to the imperial household: light and natural, lingering for a long time without leaving any obvious trace.
She had been breathing in this fragrance for twenty years now — from the very first time they met at Yunyin Academy, through the years at the residence of Prince Wei, and now here in Yongshou Palace. Wherever this man went, that faint, elusive scent always lingered.
Once his hair was dry, Consort Yi began smoothing it gently into place with her slender fingers. In twenty years together, most of her thoughts had been devoted to this man; she knew exactly how to please him. Under her touch, it took only a short while before the Emperor’s tense shoulders relaxed.
“Your Majesty.” She pressed her ten fingers gently against the back of his neck, kneading slowly down along the raised vertebrae — a technique Yu Ruoshui had taught her for promoting circulation along the meridians, said to be especially good for calming the spirit and sharpening the eyes.
“Was what you said to Eunuch Mi just now really true — has the Crown Prince truly taken a liking to A’Yuan?” Seeing the Emperor’s expression mild and pleasant, clearly in good spirits, she could not hold back any longer and finally asked the question she had wanted to ask for days.
Little happened in the palace that escaped the Emperor’s notice, yet she herself had only learned of this in the past two days. The news had shocked her so much that she was eager to confirm it with him.
The Emperor’s eyes were half closed, his mood just as calm and even as she had expected. He merely hummed through his nose. “Oh? Are you not satisfied with the girl?”
Consort Yi forced a smile. “Of course not. The Marquis Jinghai’s household has been a family of generals for a hundred years, and Qin Cheng is a hero the likes of which appear only once in an age. Even Madam Qin is a proper, well-bred lady from a marquis’s household. With parents like that, A’Yuan would hardly disgrace the title of Crown Princess. It’s only…”
She watched the Emperor’s expression carefully, probing. “It’s only that her temperament is a touch too timid. In terms of composure and worldly experience, she falls somewhat short compared to the Fourth Young Miss of Minister Wang’s household, the one you favored before. As you yourself have said, the choice of Crown Princess concerns the dignity of the state — shouldn’t this matter be discussed a little further?”
The Emperor opened his eyes. “The Fourth Young Miss — is that the one whose given name is Wang Yingning?”
Consort Yi smiled. “That’s exactly the one — Wang Yingning! That child is truly outstanding. Not only is she lovely to look at, but she carries herself with grace and composure, steady and proper in everything she does — one cannot help but like her. I recall that you once made inquiries through Wang Weiting, and I heard Minister Wang himself was quite willing. This concubine had thought the matter would surely be settled with Miss Wang, so why has there been no word of it since?”
The Emperor glanced at Consort Yi and, seeing her so animated, shook his head with mild surprise and a faint smile. “You, you. I know you have nothing but sincere devotion toward the Crown Prince, which is why you care so much about his marriage — but you are far too anxious about this.”
Consort Yi’s expression stiffened slightly, then turned wistful. “Sister A’Hui passed so early, leaving behind only young master You. Even setting aside this concubine’s wish to ease Your Majesty’s burdens, there is also the bond of having studied together with A’Hui at Yunyin Academy back then — for that alone, I could never do anything less than pour out my whole heart in caring for the Crown Prince.” The Emperor let out a long sigh and looked at Consort Yi, nodding. “You have done extremely well these past years. I know it has not been easy for you.”
Consort Yi’s eyes reddened, and she lowered her gaze to accept the praise. “Your Majesty flatters me. This is only what this concubine ought to do — so long as Your Majesty does not think me overstepping my place.”
Seeing that the Emperor had no intention of responding further, Consort Yi resumed smoothing his hair, though the conversation still lingered on the matter of choosing a Crown Princess. “Your Majesty, though you have said that all the children’s marriages should be matches of mutual affection, the Crown Prince is still so young, and young people his age rarely hold to one mind for long. It’s true that right now he favors Miss Qin, but who’s to say that come next year, after meeting other young ladies, his feelings for Qin Yuan won’t have cooled? If you indulge his whims and match him with a delicate, pampered Crown Princess, there’s no telling how much discontent might follow in the years ahead. In this concubine’s view, it would be better to use this autumn hunt as an opportunity for the Crown Prince to spend more time with the other students from the academy. If, after some time has passed, his heart remains unchanged and he still insists on marrying no one but Qin Yuan, it would not be too late for you to grant his wish then.”
The Emperor waved a hand. “I cannot speak for the others, but that Wang Yingning is clearly out of the question. I have heard that when she was a child, Minister Wang arranged two betrothals for her, one after another — and both times, no sooner had the birth-date tokens been exchanged than the young man in question died. Because of this, she earned herself a reputation, young as she was, for bringing misfortune to husbands, and to this day, even past the age of hairpinning, she remains unbetrothed. Families in Chang’an of standing equal to the Wangs mostly cherish their sons and dare not risk marrying them to a woman with such a reputation, while lesser families are beneath Minister Wang’s notice — and so the matter has dragged on, and Miss Wang remains unmarried still.”
Consort Yi seemed to have already known of Wang Yingning’s situation, for she showed no surprise at all, only suppressing her indignation as she said, “I recall Your Majesty once said yourself that such talk was nothing but baseless nonsense. Truly, a fine girl like Wang Yingning is hard to find even with a lantern in hand. If you exclude her from consideration as Crown Princess simply because of such groundless rumors, this concubine genuinely feels it would be a pity for the Crown Prince.”
A trace of displeasure crept into the Emperor’s tone. “How could I not know what you’re saying? Beyond that, I later had the Astrological Bureau quietly compare Miss Wang’s birth chart with You’er’s. The reading showed the woman would bring misfortune upon the man — a great ill omen. I may not believe the rumors circulating outside, but a divination from the Astrological Bureau itself is not something I can simply disregard.”
“There was such a thing?” Consort Yi started in surprise, sitting stunned for a moment before letting out a deeply disappointed sigh. “If that’s the case, then Miss Wang absolutely cannot be matched with the Crown Prince after all.”
Seeing that Consort Yi still looked somewhat unwilling to let the matter go, the Emperor added, “What’s more, You’er has come to me several times now pleading on Qin Yuan’s behalf. He lost his mother so young, and growing up through all manner of hardship these years, he has always kept strictly to his duty and never once asked me for anything. This is the first time he has spoken up for himself, and all he wants is a Crown Princess who suits his heart. How could I bear to deny him?”
At these words, Consort Yi swallowed back what had risen to her throat, falling silent for a long while before forcing a smile once more. “Your Majesty’s heart is that of a loving father, and everything you have considered and said is entirely reasonable. Marriage should indeed be a matter of mutual affection — this concubine was being shortsighted.”
Even so, she still let out a sigh of deep regret.
Qin Yao had just returned from paying her respects to her father-in-law when, thinking of the matter of the Ghost Swordsman, she found she could not sit still at home. She sent word to Chang Rong that she wished to go out.
Before heading out, so that she could move freely, Qin Yao had Cai Ping find her a set of Hu-style riding clothes to change into, and she tucked the compass her master had given her into the front of her robe.
Aunt Wen had heard from Lin Xiao and Chang Rong before that the Heir’s Consort was a lay disciple of Qingyun Temple and that her Daoist arts were genuinely impressive — earlier in the year, when the Heir and Chang Rong had returned from Mount Mang, it was only thanks to the Consort’s help that they had escaped disaster.
Hearing that the Consort meant to go to Qingyun Temple, she hurried to help her straighten her clothes and pull on her boots, and only once everything was in order did she see her out the door.
Once outside the residence of Prince Lan, Qin Yao looked up to find Chang Rong and the others already waiting. To avoid any impropriety, the carriage was still driven by an elderly eunuch from the household named Zou, while Chang Rong and the rest rode alongside on horseback.
Dressed in her Hu-style clothes, Qin Yao moved far more nimbly than she would have in skirts. She called a greeting to Chang Rong and the others before climbing up into the carriage.
By the time the carriage reached Qingyun Temple, her master and senior brother were, as expected, not there.
Qin Yao was not surprised — the Ghost Swordsman and the several young women who had gone missing were still nowhere to be found, and her master and the others had been rushing about these past few days hunting for the spirit. Of course they would be out from dawn till dusk; how could they possibly sit idle at the temple?
Passing through the East Market, Qin Yao remembered the river-deer spirit from before and had the carriage stop. She made her way along the road to the alley where she had previously found the dried-up well, only to discover that spiritual energy was now surging through the lane — a Buddhist formation had already been set in place, and a powerful one at that. Should any demon emerge from the well, the formation would bind it instantly.
Qin Yao searched around for a while but saw no monks from Dayin Temple — likely, with the formation reinforcing the area, there was no need for anyone to keep watch here, and they had gone elsewhere to patrol.
Still, Qin Yao did not lose heart. Her master’s compass could detect demonic energy within ten zhang, so she lingered awhile longer in the East Market — if some demon, like the river-deer spirit before, was still haunting the market, she would not be caught unaware with the compass on her.
Chang Rong and the others followed behind Qin Yao, watching her circle the East Market again and again without any sign of tiring. It reminded them of the time the Consort had patrolled Shuangyan Lane by night for the case of the murdered woman in Pingkang Ward. Though they knew she was searching for demons, they could not help feeling a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
It seemed that, after all this time, things had come full circle — their dealings with the Consort were still just as they had been at the very beginning: either helping her exorcise demons at her side, or trailing behind her while she hunted them.
After circling the East Market three times with nothing to show for it, and seeing that it was still early, Qin Yao had the carriage driven on to the West Market.
She kept up the search clear until dusk without sensing the faintest trace of demonic or ghostly energy. Knowing that if she did not return early enough at night her father-in-law would find it improper, she finally had Eunuch Zou drive the carriage back to the residence of Prince Lan.
Over the following two days, since Lin Xiao was still on duty in the palace, Qin Yao continued to leave the residence early each morning, first stopping by Qingyun Temple. Finding neither her master nor A’Han there, she would simply go on her own to search the East and West Markets for demons.
Three days in a row brought nothing, and though Qin Yao felt somewhat discouraged, the thought that Lin Xiao would be leaving the palace the following evening could not help but lift her spirits.
As she rode back from the East Market that evening, she pondered in the carriage what dishes she should prepare the next day that Lin Xiao enjoyed. Such matters had always been overseen by Aunt Wen, but if she could add a touch of her own thought to it, that would naturally make it something special.
After thinking it over carefully, she remembered that the last time she had returned to visit her family, Lin Xiao seemed to have eaten an extra few pieces of the pickled fish her mother had made. She thought to herself that she might as well visit her family home early the next morning, learn the recipe from her mother, and cook it for Lin Xiao that evening.
Cheerfully turning these thoughts over, she made her way back to Siru Studio. No sooner had she changed her clothes than the maids in the courtyard began calling out greetings, one after another: “Young Lord.”
She froze, then hurried to the window to look out, and sure enough caught sight of a tall figure in moon-white robes striding briskly through the camellia bushes toward the steps.
A smile rose instantly to Qin Yao’s face from somewhere deep within her — she had not expected Lin Xiao to come home a day early.
Unable to wait even a moment longer, she lifted the hem of her skirt and hurried out to meet him.
The instant she stepped out of the inner chamber, she walked straight into a solid chest, the achingly familiar clean scent filling her senses. Ignoring the small jolt of pain, she looked up at Lin Xiao with a smile. “Why are you back today already?”
Lin Xiao steadied her by the arms, looking her over for a moment with a smile. “Tomorrow I’m to accompany the Imperial Uncle to Mount Shouhuai for the autumn hunt — I came home to bring you along.”