Having gone to bed early, Yao Huang woke early as well, summoning the maids to attend to her at the hour of mao.

Qiu Chan brought water, Bai Ling organized the vanity table, and A’Ji and Chun Yan made the bed.

Before marriage, Yao Huang had only A’Ji as her maid. When A’Ji went to fetch washing water, Yao Huang would dress herself and fold her own bedding—such small tasks she could easily handle, she wouldn’t simply dump everything on A’Ji. Now things were different. With four senior maids, everything from putting on shoes and washing her face to combing her hair and skincare was taken over by others.

Take grooming for instance—Bai Ling would first massage her scalp, running her fingers through her hair several times before beginning to arrange it into a bun. When applying face cream, Yao Huang simply reclined against the chair back while Bai Ling’s deft hands gently rubbed circles on her forehead, cheeks, around her nose, chin, and neck several times over. It was so comfortable that Yao Huang nearly fell back asleep.

A’Ji watched from the side, stunned. “There are so many techniques?”

Bai Ling smiled. “This way helps the Princess Consort absorb the face cream better.”

Why did the palace consorts seem more age-resistant than each other? Besides eating well and using quality products, expensive face creams and skilled maids also deserved partial credit.

“Not just face cream—there’s also body cream for applying all over after bathing. Would the Princess Consort like to try it tonight?”

As mistress and servants grew more familiar, Bai Ling dared to say more.

In the palace, she had mainly learned hair styling and massage. However, Consort Du had an abundance of talented attendants, so Bai Ling only needed to display one skill. She would substitute when the senior maid who specialized in styling the Consort’s hair fell ill. If she proved too capable, the senior maids wouldn’t tolerate her.

Just hearing about it made Yao Huang feel her bones turning to jelly. “Yes, let’s try it tonight.”

The Princess Consort’s satisfaction with Bai Ling was evident. A’Ji had no particular thoughts, but Chun Yan, watching from afar, nervously curled her fingers.

After learning that Hua Mei had been punished by the Prince, all three maids from Yikun Palace worried about their own futures. Bai Ling had proactively shown her skills, and yesterday Qiu Chan had handled fetching silver from the accounting office perfectly. Only Chun Yan hadn’t truly done anything for the Princess Consort yet.

Seeing that the Princess Consort was finishing her grooming and about to change clothes, Chun Yan gathered her courage and stepped forward. “Princess Consort, the weather’s getting warmer. Yesterday this servant sewed two veiled hats for you—they provide sun protection and keep out dust. Would you like to try them?”

Chun Yan’s specialty was fine embroidery. Yao Huang recalled seeing wealthy young ladies or married women wearing veiled hats on the street in the past and said cheerfully, “Sure! Go fetch them quickly. I woke early today, so I’ll go ride horses outside the city first.”

It would be cool for riding in the morning, and after it heated up she could go browse the shops.

Chun Yan’s eyes immediately brightened. She ran out and ran back, holding one veiled hat in each hand with two lengths of snow-white gauze draped over her arms.

Neither hat had a tall crown—just a wide brim with an empty center that could be worn directly over a hair bun, preventing the head from getting stuffy in summer. One hat was more elegant, with a plate-sized pale yellow peony silk flower attached to the wide brim and short tassels adorned with small pearls hanging in a circle from the edge. The other had no tassels, and the full peony silk flower was replaced by a small peach blossom.

Chun Yan said, “This simple one is for when the Princess Consort travels incognito. This one is for strolling in the gardens at the residence.”

The white gauze hanging from both hats only reached the neck. If the Princess Consort wanted to ride horses, she could remove the short gauze and replace it with the waist-length long gauze draped over Chun Yan’s arms, which would better block dust kicked up by horse hooves.

Yao Huang loved them and tried on both. Since she was currently wearing plain cloth clothing, she chose the peach blossom hat and had Chun Yan switch to the long gauze.

After breakfast, she had a junior maid relay a message to Zhang Yue while she herself went to the bamboo courtyard.

The bamboo grove was also quiet in the early morning, but it had a kind of vigorous vitality compared to dusk. Along the short stone path, Yao Huang found several thin bamboo stalks in the grove that had just transformed from bamboo shoots.

At the gate, Yao Huang knocked softly.

Fei Quan pressed close to the door crack and suddenly tensed when he saw a circle of white gauze.

The next moment, the visitor lifted half the light veil, her eyes seeming to hold stars as she smiled. “It’s me.”

Fei Quan quickly opened the door and slipped out to speak with the Princess Consort. “Do you wish to see the Prince?”

Yao Huang said, “Yes, I’m going out and came to say hello to the Prince.” And also to let the Prince see her veiled hat, so he’d know she was learning the ways of wealthy households and wasn’t showing her face everywhere every day.

Fei Quan said, “Please wait a moment, Princess Consort. This servant will go relay the message.”

This time, Yao Huang still waited for about half a cup of tea’s time, and then Qing Ai directly wheeled Prince Hui to the courtyard gate.

The two door panels slowly opened, and the Princess Consort’s figure appeared before Zhao Sui as she turned at the sound, wearing a veiled hat, dressed in a peach-pink crossed-collar jacket with a light jade-green spiral skirt below. Spiral skirts could be divided and closed, and women often wore such skirts for horseback riding.

After the wheelchair was positioned, Qing Ai quickly withdrew to a distance.

Yao Huang deliberately kept her distance from Prince Hui, asking through the light veil, “Like this, can the Prince recognize me?”

Zhao Sui saw a pair of hazy dark eyes, saw her rosy lips—her face was indeed unclear.

Knowing what she wanted to hear, Zhao Sui shook his head.

Yao Huang walked forward, stopping three steps from him, bending slightly at the waist for his convenience. “How about this?”

The light veil swayed slightly with her movement. Even after the Princess Consort stopped, it hadn’t settled. Zhao Sui glimpsed her clear red lips for a fleeting moment and smelled the faint fragrance of face cream from her body.

He lowered his eyes and nodded.

Yao Huang smiled, fixing the front veil to the hat brim, and spoke to him while bending down. “Has the Prince eaten?”

Zhao Sui said, “Just finished. You needn’t do that—stand straight to speak.”

Yao Huang replied, “But I don’t want you looking up at me. Propriety aside, two people being close together is more like husband and wife.”

After saying this, she knelt on one knee beside the wheelchair, looking up at him. “This works too. Either way, I can’t tire the Prince’s neck.”

Zhao Sui said, “…Let’s go to the stone table.”

Yao Huang said, “No need to trouble yourself. I’ll just chat with the Prince for a moment and then leave. The morning is cool—perfect for riding.”

Zhao Sui glanced at her skirt hem. “Go then. If you delay, it will get hot.”

Yao Huang looked at the tightly closed hall door inside, truly unable to understand how the Prince could endure being shut inside day after day. Even if the Prince loved reading, keeping his face covered until it became this sickly pale couldn’t possibly be good for his health. The physicians at medical halls often diagnosed whether someone was ill by their complexion. The Prince’s legs were disabled—he couldn’t let other parts deteriorate from being cooped up.

“Would the Prince like to accompany me for a run?”

Yao Huang invited cautiously. Jingwu was so intelligent—as long as they found a way to secure the Prince’s legs firmly, running slowly should be fine.

She crouched before him. Zhao Sui couldn’t lower his eyes and looked aside. “No, I’ve told you—I don’t like going out.”

Yao Huang grew anxious. “Is the Prince angry with me?”

Zhao Sui tried to make his tone gentle. “No, I just don’t want you to include me in your entertainment plans each time. Let me say it clearly once—this saves me from having to disappoint your kind intentions every time.”

Yao Huang’s courage wasn’t as great as Qing Ai and the others imagined. Although she hoped the Prince would get more sun, as long as the Prince refused once, she wouldn’t dare try again for now.

The previously relaxed atmosphere no longer existed. Zhao Sui called for Qing Ai.

He was going back inside. Yao Huang could only walk alone along the bamboo path. Halfway there she turned back and found the courtyard gate already closed.

Yao Huang vexedly patted a nearby bamboo stalk. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come this morning. The Prince had already instructed her—seek him when there was business, otherwise let it be.

At the main gate of the Prince’s residence, Zhang Yue and the guards were already prepared. Eight guards each had a horse, and they had also brought out eight fine horses kept in the Prince’s stables. Yao Huang would ride Jingwu herself, let A’Ji ride her Ni Guang, and the remaining six would go to six guards who would split into three pairs and separately take the eastern, western, and northern gates of the capital, exercising them for a full hour before returning to the residence. Zhang Yue and Wang Dong would continue protecting the Princess Consort.

The spectacle was so grand that even Chief Steward Guo Shu came. Only after hearing the Princess Consort’s arrangements did he breathe easier.

If the Princess Consort really took six riderless horses out of the city herself, it would surely attract onlookers. If anyone recognized these as horses from Prince Hui’s residence, people would lament that now that the Prince was disabled, even the residence’s horses had become decorations. Such laments would definitely not be pleasant words for the Prince to hear.

Since he was here, Yao Huang specifically asked, “I don’t understand horse care. Will keeping them in the stables every day cause problems? Or should we let them run every so often?”

Even dead objects like knives would rust if left unused for too long, let alone horses.

Guo Shu said, “What the Princess Consort worries about is valid. Normally the stable hands lead the horses around the perimeter of the stables, morning and evening, precisely to maintain their muscle condition.”

Yao Huang asked, “Just walking is enough?”

Guo Shu replied, “…Of course running would definitely be better.”

Yao Huang said, “Then let’s do this. In the future, when the Prince and I aren’t using the horses, have the guards take them outside the city every morning to exercise for an hour. Skip it in rainy or snowy weather.”

Guo Shu said, “Yes.”

After riding to her heart’s content, she had Wang Dong lead the horses back to the Prince’s residence. Yao Huang continued browsing shops, buying the jewelry she’d liked yesterday, selecting some silk and fine cloth. When her stomach grew hungry, she changed to a different restaurant. After eating, she bought some small items, then went to a teahouse and listened to storytelling for over an hour. When the storyteller rested, she switched to listening to the tea patrons’ gossip.

The tea patrons were the best informed—they knew all the fresh news in the capital, from small matters like neighborhood scandals of younger brothers-in-law seducing sisters-in-law to large affairs of relatives of high officials committing crimes. When they reached the exciting parts, even the storyteller would come over and listen with relish alongside everyone else.

At dusk, Yao Huang returned satisfied.

This time she brought the Prince a large palm-leaf fan commonly used by ordinary folk. When Fei Quan pressed close to the door crack, Yao Huang told him not to open the door and simply pushed the fan sideways through the gap, saying in a low voice, “Tell the Prince that I know he’s used all kinds of precious items and would be hard to impress, so I picked this palm-leaf fan for him. Don’t look down on it for being cheap or lacking the elegance of folding fans—in summer, this kind of palm-leaf fan produces the coolest breeze. It’s perfect for the Prince to use casually at home.”

Fei Quan said, “Princess Consort, please wait. This servant will ask the Prince to come out so you can personally give…”

Yao Huang interrupted, “Don’t trouble him. The Prince is staying comfortably in his room—coming out to see me would just be a hassle.”

Pressing the palm-leaf fan into Fei Quan’s hands, Yao Huang turned and ran. She wanted to bathe and try Bai Ling’s full-body massage. Anyway, since the Prince disliked being disturbed, why should she rack her brains trying to spend more time with him?

Fei Quan opened the door to chase after her, but the Princess Consort ran too fast. By the time he reached the edge of the bamboo grove, the Princess Consort had already vanished without a trace.

Left with no choice, Fei Quan could only carry that unremarkable palm-leaf fan worth at most five copper coins to relay the message.

Zhao Sui stared at the fan.

When inspecting the four great military camps, he’d seen them on soldiers’ bunks in the barracks. When entering and leaving the capital in summer, he’d also seen them in the hands of common folk or street vendors by the roadside.

He took the palm-leaf fan and tried fanning himself. It was indeed more effortless than a folding fan and produced a stronger breeze.

But why hadn’t she given it to him personally?