Because the princess wasn’t very happy, even though today was the fourteenth, Zhao Sui still came to the rear courtyard in the evening.

The princely residence displayed various exquisite candlesticks. When all were lit, the illumination was bright. Since their summer retreat luggage consisted mainly of clothing and books, the candlesticks had all been newly purchased by Physician Liao in town. Therefore, Yao Huang’s side had only four lamps, their light a soft, warm yellow glow.

Prince Hui himself didn’t want to claim credit, and truly didn’t need this achievement for promotion or wealth. After Yao Huang felt indignant on his behalf for a while, it passed. Now, looking at her husband who appeared even more handsome in the lamplight, Yao Huang asked curiously, “Why did Your Highness break your own rule tonight?”

Zhao Sui looked at the princess’s face, which had already returned to normal, and after a moment of silence said, “Tomorrow is the Zhongyuan Festival. I thought you might not sleep soundly alone.”

The Zhongyuan Festival—commoners also habitually called it the Ghost Festival. Some people didn’t take it too seriously, while others truly dared not go out once the sky darkened.

Yao Huang belonged to the bold type. When she was small, she had deliberately let her hair hang loose to pretend to be a ghost and scare those playmates who liked to call her “Little Huang” or “Ah Huang.”

But that day when she had misunderstood that Prince Hui wanted to climb the mountain, Yao Huang herself had said she feared there were monsters in the mountains. Prince Hui had actually believed her and specially came to keep her company…

“Your Highness is truly considerate.”

Yao Huang simply pretended to look reassured and happily pushed Prince Hui toward the canopy bed.

Her monthly cycle had come two days ago. During afternoon naps, the couple had both been very well-behaved, simply sleeping. Tonight certainly wouldn’t be any different.

Lingshan Town at night was indeed very cool. Covering themselves with a thin quilt, Yao Huang leaned against Prince Hui’s embrace, feeling only warmth and comfort.

“Tomorrow evening, the riverside should be full of people releasing river lanterns. Shall we go release some too?”

For children and young people whose families hadn’t recently lost relatives, releasing river lanterns on Zhongyuan night was similar to admiring flower lanterns during the Shangyuan Festival—both were lively occasions.

Zhao Sui: “Mm.”

Yao Huang: “Should we make our own? The ones sold in shops all look the same. Once they drift into the pile of lanterns, you can’t tell them apart immediately.”

Zhao Sui: “Can you make them?”

Yao Huang: “Of course! Though I only know how to make the simplest kind—using a few bamboo strips to make a square frame fixed on a thin wooden board, pasting a circle of lantern paper around it, then inserting a candle inside.”

Zhao Sui looked at the bed canopy. “I’ve never made one.”

Yao Huang had entered the palace several times and surmised that in such a rule-bound place, neither the nobility nor palace servants would casually release river lanterns. Prince Hui also had no playmates who could take him out to have fun, so forget making them himself—he might never have even seen them.

She propped herself up and looked at him with a smile. “I’ll make the frame. After I cut the lantern paper, Your Highness can paint something on it. With your painting, my ordinary river lantern will become an elegant one.”

Zhao Sui agreed.

The next day was brilliantly sunny. When it came time to accompany Prince Hui for his sun exposure in the morning, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui to Main Street. At shops that had temporarily set out many river lanterns for sale, they bought all the materials needed to make river lanterns—base boards, bamboo strips, tung oil, lantern paper, and such.

As the princess picked and chose, Zhao Sui looked at the finished river lanterns displayed on the stall. There were lotus lanterns folded from colored paper, and also the kind of square paper-pasted lanterns the princess had described. Most were roughly and simply made, though a few showed fine craftsmanship. Those had properly written memorial inscriptions or blessings, or simple drawings on the lantern paper.

After buying everything, the couple returned to the eastern courtyard. Inside the study, Fei Quan and Qing Ai had prepared in advance the scissors, paste, and other items the princess would need, as well as the prince’s writing implements and various pigments.

Making lantern frames was skilled work. This time, Yao Huang wanted to make something more refined, which would take more time.

Zhao Sui watched the princess arrange the bamboo strips and asked, “What would you like me to paint or write?”

Yao Huang didn’t raise her head, continuing to chat in a soft, leisurely manner. “On other people’s lanterns, I’ve seen flowers and plants, and some with people painted on them. Your Highness knows our family are all rough people who can’t paint. We just write down my grandfather’s and grandmother’s names on the lantern paper, first saying a few lines about how everyone in the family misses them, then telling them everyone is doing quite well so they needn’t worry, and finally wishing them early entry into the cycle of rebirth, to be reborn into a wealthy and noble family.”

Zhao Sui contemplated the lantern paper, considering how to write the princess’s common words more elegantly, when he heard the princess continue, “I’ve released river lanterns for our Old Yao family’s ancestors for over a dozen years. This year I’ve just married Your Highness, and it’s also the first time releasing river lanterns together with Your Highness. So this lantern should be for Your Highness’s family ancestors. Therefore, whatever Your Highness wants to paint, paint it; whatever you want to write, write it. I’ll follow your wishes entirely.”

Zhao Sui continued looking at the paper.

The imperial family had many, many ancestors. The imperial family also had many, many descendants. He, Zhao Sui, was merely the unexpected result of his father the Emperor’s momentary lustful impulse in favoring a dancing girl.

Zhao Sui had long been familiar with his father the Emperor. He knew what extraordinary deeds his father had accomplished that were recorded and passed down when he was still a prince. He knew what achievements his father had made after ascending the throne. Including every emperor and even princes and princesses of the Great Qi Dynasty since its founding—Zhao Sui had read through historical records and documents related to all of them.

But regarding that person who had truly carried him in her womb for ten months and brought him into this world, Zhao Sui only knew her surname was Wen, that in life she had been a palace dancing girl, and after death was posthumously granted the title of Beauty.

Perhaps some palace servants knew more news about her, but Zhao Sui had never inquired.

Palace dancing girls either came from the female relatives of disgraced officials’ families, or at a young age became orphans or were sold by their parents or relatives.

If the former, even after his father the Emperor valued him, he had never thought to bestow grace upon his maternal clan, indicating the Wen clan no longer existed or had committed unforgivable crimes. Based on Consort Du’s sarcastic remarks over more than ten years, Zhao Sui deduced that even if the Wen family were guilty officials, they were only minor officials—minor officials not worth Consort Du’s detailed inquiry. If the Wen family had once been illustrious or committed major crimes memorable enough to be remembered for years, Consort Du would have used it to chastise him.

If the latter, Zhao Sui had even less need to inquire about a family that would abandon her.

In any case, Zhao Sui had never seen that person, didn’t know her name, and had no understanding of her whatsoever.

But when he was still young, he had indeed fantasized about her appearance while looking in the mirror.

Yao Huang saw Prince Hui pick up a paintbrush.

Withdrawing her gaze, Yao Huang continued concentrating on making her lantern frame.

Painting required time. Yao Huang didn’t know specifically what Prince Hui would paint, so she deliberately made her work more meticulous—so meticulous that even after Prince Hui had set down his brush, Yao Huang’s side still wasn’t finished.

She said in surprise, “So fast?”

Zhao Sui examined what the princess held in her hands, thinking the princess had quite a talent for bamboo craftwork.

Yao Huang lifted the nearly completed lantern frame and moved closer to Prince Hui’s side.

The lantern paper would wrap around the lantern frame in a circle, forming four sides when complete. At this moment, though there was only one long strip of lantern paper on the desk, it was divided into four paintings. The first painting showed a few brushstrokes of lake water, with a slender branch extending diagonally from the lakeside, trailing down a wisp of slender willow strands.

Yao Huang had already witnessed Prince Hui’s painting skill, yet at this moment she was still captivated by this simple painting of a weeping willow. Those delicate willow branches were clearly motionless, yet Yao Huang seemed to see them swaying gracefully in the wind, creating a spring scene, as elegant as a beauty.

In the second painting, the willow branches appeared still. On the branch perched a small black swallow. Yao Huang stared at the black swallow and found this swallow with folded wings, its head tilted as if about to bury itself in its wings to sleep, very adorable.

In the third painting, the slender branch now held a pair of black swallows. The swallow with folded wings standing on the branch appeared larger and more stable. The other had spread its wings and was flying beside it, its head facing the first, its beak open, as if calling out to it.

In the fourth painting, the pair of swallows had flown away, and the willow branches hung quietly.

Beside the painting was a line of small characters: “Joyous without wind or rain, spring birds bring news of peace.”

Yao Huang understood. She bashfully gave Prince Hui a coquettish glance. “Cultured people are truly different. They can even paint this way to tell their ancestors they’ve married.”

As the princess looked at the painting, Zhao Sui’s heartbeat wasn’t very steady. He had momentarily expressed his feelings through the painting, but after finishing it, he didn’t want others to see through it.

Seeing that the princess only noticed those two anthropomorphized black swallows, Zhao Sui was just about to relax when he saw the princess extend her tender, bamboo-shoot-tip-like finger to point at the water ripples beneath the weeping willow. “Others all use mandarin ducks to represent husband and wife. Why did Your Highness paint swallows? Forget using this one as a river lantern—next time, give me a painting of mandarin ducks.”

Zhao Sui: “…With mandarin ducks, the female bird isn’t as brilliantly colored as the male.”

Yao Huang: “…Then forget it. I’m much more than Your Highness…”

Halfway through, Yao Huang stopped, glancing toward Prince Hui’s increasingly handsome face.

Zhao Sui lowered his eyes. “In terms of beauty of appearance, no one surpasses you.”

Yao Huang’s eyes brimmed with sweetness from these words. She pressed one hand on Prince Hui’s lips. “Has Your Highness been secretly eating honey when I’m not around?”

Zhao Sui promptly pressed down the princess’s hand, saying in a low voice, “Do not be improper.”

In the evening, after dinner, the sky was still bright. Yao Huang first pushed Prince Hui to the riverside for a walk.

Usually, only the neighbors from both banks were by this river. As the sky gradually darkened, more and more common people came to the riverside. Yao Huang looked left and right, then bent down near Prince Hui’s head. “Did you notice? The young ladies and young wives holding river lanterns are all on the north bank, while the men are all standing on the other side. They’ve clearly come out to see their sweethearts.”

Zhao Sui scanned left and right. It was indeed so.

Yao Huang: “Later, I’ll also go release my lantern from the north bank. Your Highness can watch me from this side.”

Zhao Sui: “…”

At the gate of the eastern courtyard, Yao Huang positioned Prince Hui’s wheelchair facing north, fixed on the riverbank. She then called out Qing Ai to keep him company. Then she pulled A’Ji along, each holding a river lantern, and went around the nearby stone bridge to the opposite bank.

Only the last trace of sunset glow remained at the horizon, obscured by mountain peaks and houses. The people on the bank were all in dim twilight. But when the princess walked to the middle of the stone bridge and turned her head to look over, her smiling face suddenly entered a pool of warm sunshine, like a candle just lit, or like the bright moon suddenly emerging from clouds in the night sky.

Zhao Sui just watched his princess wave to him, then descend the bridge step by step with A’Ji’s arm linked in hers.

Perhaps because the western neighbors, the Qi family, had an exceptionally talented eldest son, and the eastern neighbors, the He family, even had He Wenbin who had passed the provincial examination—the most young ladies and girls had gathered on the opposite bank near these households.

Every household was releasing river lanterns. He Wenbin, who had been cooped up indoors studying during the day, and the Qi family’s eldest son who had returned home from the academy for the festival, had both come out.

Yao Huang, who had finally found a spot by the river and was preparing to release her river lantern, heard the young ladies around her all praising her husband.

Yao Huang raised her head. Opposite was Prince Hui in his wheelchair. The light and shadow were hazy. His Highness Prince Hui was as tranquil and elegant as jade.

Yao Huang’s eyesight was excellent, so she could see clearly—although so many young ladies were all looking at Prince Hui, Prince Hui’s gaze remained fixed only on her.

Yao Huang smiled as she set down the river lantern, watching the lantern she and Prince Hui had made together drift away on the gently flowing water.

After releasing it, Yao Huang stood up. Forgetting that A’Ji was still there, she ran all the way across the stone bridge, ran to Prince Hui’s side, and then, under the disappointed gazes of the young ladies on the opposite bank, pushed Prince Hui back to the eastern courtyard and closed the main gate.

What a pity her monthly cycle was still ongoing tonight. Otherwise, she would definitely devour this devastatingly handsome Prince Hui completely!