Yao Huang had loved excitement since childhood. Her grandfather’s family had three male cousins and one female cousin, so Yao Huang had often stayed here when young. She had already played at every interesting spot around the town thousands of times. Then, as she gradually grew up, those places that once made her linger had increasingly less appeal to her.
Including this river near the town.
Having seen it thousands of times, what novelty could there be? Competing to see who could skip stones the most and farthest—Yao Huang had long passed that age.
If today it had been her cousins suggesting they come stroll here, Yao Huang could have cursed them for having nothing better to do. But it was Prince Hui who had spoken—a disabled husband who, after being married to her for over three months, was for the first time proactively suggesting where to go stroll; a disabled husband in whom she had used every means hoping to see more vitality. In that case, never mind strolling by the river—even if Prince Hui wanted to go feel the wind on the hillock across the river, Yao Huang would happily push him up there!
The carriage stopped steadily on the dirt road by the river. Yao Huang and Qing Ai cooperated to push Prince Hui down. When the task was completed and Yao Huang lifted her head to look, she discovered A’Ji was spreading felt cushions under a tree’s shade by the riverside, while Fei Quan was moving a low table down from the carriage loaded with festival gifts. After handing the low table to A’Ji to place on the felt cushions, Fei Quan went back to the carriage to fetch the tea, water, and pastry boxes.
Once preparations were complete, Qing Ai signaled the carriage drivers to temporarily drive the carriages to the intersection ahead. He then followed Fei Quan and A’Ji to a spot a hundred paces away, sitting on the rocky beach waiting for any possible instructions from the prince and princess consort.
“So, Your Highness had already prepared this morning to spend the afternoon outside the city?” With only the married couple remaining nearby, Yao Huang asked in delighted surprise.
Zhao Sui looked at the azure distant sky behind the princess consort and said: “The weather has been very good these past few days.”
The prince’s residence garden had the garden’s elegance and tranquility; outside the city had the outdoors’ rugged vastness.
Zhao Sui had grown up in the deep palace and had long grown accustomed to passing time alone. After being enfeoffed as prince, because of his father the Emperor’s regard, his every move was watched by people. To avoid unnecessary suspicion, when not on duty, Zhao Sui still remained deep within the prince’s residence. After all, he had long grown accustomed to such a life.
However, being accustomed didn’t mean liking it. Zhao Sui had also been curious about what lay outside the imperial palace, curious about what scenery existed beyond the capital. When the weather was good, he had also entertained thoughts of leaving the city for spring outings, horseback riding, climbing heights, or admiring snow.
When his legs were intact, he had suppressed these interests to avoid meaningless disputes. Now that his legs were crippled, whatever he did would no longer threaten anyone—he could instead act as he pleased.
Yao Huang understood. That lifeless Prince Hui had truly come back to life.
This was a happy matter, yet there was no need to specifically announce it in celebration. Yao Huang looked at the nearby rocky beach that was only slightly over one zhang wide and told the prince to wait a moment. She kicked away pebbles with her feet, clearing two narrow little paths that would allow the wheelchair to pass through smoothly.
Grasping the wheelchair again, Yao Huang smiled: “Your Highness isn’t afraid of bumps, but I can’t bear to see this rosewood wheelchair ruined by stones. It’s better to clear a path.”
Zhao Sui: “…From now on, use the elm wood one when leaving the city.”
Stopping at the very edge of the riverbank, Yao Huang picked up several flat small stones and held one up, waving it at Prince Hui: “Watch carefully!”
Zhao Sui watched the princess consort’s hand, watched the small stone fly from her hand, skipping five times across the rippling river surface before sinking to the bottom.
“Come, you try too.”
Zhao Sui grasped the stone the princess consort handed him, not particularly wanting to try.
Yao Huang thought for a moment, stuffed all the flat stones in her hand to him, turned her back, covered her eyes, and said: “Your Highness practice first. When you can skip them well, I’ll watch.”
Yao Huang thought Prince Hui didn’t want her to see his clumsy attempts.
Zhao Sui didn’t want to make that kind of tilting body, head askew posture for throwing stones. The princess consort’s movements were natural—he couldn’t do it, and even less did he want the princess consort to see.
Looking at the princess consort’s back as she covered her eyes, Zhao Sui threw the stones straight into the water one by one. He didn’t even raise his hand high, just casually flicked them out flat from his knees.
Yao Huang was listening to the sounds—several plop-plop-plops. One could tell from the sound that the stones had sunk straight in, and moreover, the positions where they sank weren’t far from the riverbank.
Yao Huang couldn’t imagine how that strong and powerful arm of Prince Hui’s could only throw stones such a short distance. Could he truly have no talent in this area?
“It’s ready.”
Yao Huang turned back around to face Prince Hui’s tranquil and serene handsome face, on which there wasn’t a trace of shame from repeated failures.
Yao Huang: “Should I demonstrate once more?”
Zhao Sui: “…I thought this was a children’s game.”
Yao Huang: “…You should have said so earlier. If you’d said so earlier, I wouldn’t have wanted to teach you anyway.”
Zhao Sui smiled slightly and pointed at the felt cushions: “Let’s go over there.” The autumn sun of the afternoon was still quite scorching.
Yao Huang pushed him over. Upon reaching the felt cushions, Yao Huang steadied the wheelchair from behind while Zhao Sui propped himself to move onto the felt cushions, then adjusted his position properly.
Yao Huang removed her embroidered shoes and walked to the opposite side of the low table. Having sat in the carriage for an hour in the morning, and basically sitting throughout the banquet at her grandfather’s home, seeing no outsiders nearby, Yao Huang lay down straight and flat. Above her head were the branches of a locust tree. The fragmented light leaking through the leaves stabbed at Yao Huang’s eyes. She tilted her head and discovered Prince Hui was watching her.
Did he find her posture of lying flat in the wilderness unseemly?
Yao Huang said with a red face: “This is very comfortable. If you don’t believe me, try it.”
Zhao Sui didn’t lie down, but with the locust tree trunk behind him, leaning this way was also comfortable.
Yao Huang crawled over and used one of his legs as a pillow.
Zhao Sui grasped the princess consort’s hand, looking toward the mountain across the river, the trees on the mountain, the sky behind the trees.
Yao Huang followed his line of sight, tilting her neck back to look around the circuit, feeling there was nothing worth seeing. But Prince Hui clearly took pleasure in it, so Yao Huang just lay quietly. Her gaze wandered over Prince Hui’s handsome face, his fair neck, and the Adam’s apple in between. Compared to those ordinary scenes she was so accustomed to, Prince Hui from this angle was more worthy of her appreciation.
Suddenly, Prince Hui’s sleeve fell down.
Yao Huang laughed beneath the sleeve: “Is Your Highness still afraid of my looking?”
Prince Hui didn’t answer.
During the Mid-Autumn Festival, for three consecutive days—the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth—the capital had no curfew, and the four main streets would host lantern festivals for three consecutive evenings.
The palace also had lantern festivals. On the fourteenth night they banqueted the officials. On the fifteenth evening would be the imperial family’s private feast.
Last night, Emperor Yongchang had accompanied his sons in hosting a banquet for civil and military officials. People like Consort Liu, Consort Shen, and Princess Imperial Fucheng hadn’t had opportunities for close contact with Zhao Sui. Now, with the whole extended family sitting in a water pavilion in the Imperial Garden, Princess Imperial Fucheng stared at Zhao Sui in surprise for quite a while before saying with relief: “Prince Hui’s complexion has recovered so well. His Majesty can set his mind at ease, and I too can set down this burden on my heart.”
She was his aunt—whenever any nephew encountered good or bad fortune, she should show some response.
Consort Du smiled: “It’s all Huang Huang’s merit. So you see, the Emperor’s decision on selection day to let Prince Hui choose his own princess consort was truly wise. Otherwise, the noble lady I selected might not necessarily have suited Prince Hui’s wishes as well as Huang Huang has.”
Princess Imperial Fucheng’s smile stiffened slightly as she imperceptibly glanced toward her own daughter.
The hands Zheng Yuanzhen had placed beneath the table secretly tightened. She understood Consort Du’s meaning—she was saying that in Prince Hui’s eyes, she might not compare to Yao Huang, a mere captain’s daughter.
If Yao Huang were from a high family like herself, Zheng Yuanzhen wouldn’t have taken Consort Du’s veiled mockery to heart. But with Yao Huang’s humble status still able to make Prince Hui’s mood improve cheerfully, it indicated that Prince Hui simply hadn’t felt any regret or disappointment about missing the marriage alliance with her—it indicated that Prince Hui perhaps truly felt Yao Huang was better than her.
Better in what way—appearance or figure?
After Consort Shen diverted the topic and fewer gazes fell upon her, Zheng Yuanzhen secretly looked toward Yao Huang sitting beside her.
The moonlight was like water, the lamplight warm and glowing. The Princess Consort Hui, one year her junior, was dressed unremarkably, yet she possessed truly delicate, creamy skin that could break at a breath. Her slightly flushed cheeks also seemed to use the most precious rouge—beautifully red yet showing no trace of application. As her gaze swept across the other’s high-waisted dress that looked even more prominent from the side view, Zheng Yuanzhen inexplicably felt a wave of agitation and vexation.
After eating and drinking their fill, it was time to admire the lanterns.
Empress Zhou took charge, having the three princes accompany their princess consorts or prospective princess consorts to admire lanterns in the garden. Yao Huang and Zheng Yuanzhen were fine, but Chen Ying had been living deep in the palace ever since the selection ended. Having been cooped up so long was quite pitiful. Empress Zhou had the heart to let the young lady spend some time alone with Prince Kang to somewhat console these past months of monotony.
Yao Huang was an already-married princess consort and quite openly pushed Prince Hui away first. There had been several people at the palace banquet whose words had been dispiriting—she absolutely must properly admire the lanterns that the palace’s skilled craftsmen had painstakingly created to offset those people’s veiled sarcasm.
Prince Kang instinctively hurried to catch up: “Second Sister-in-law, let me push Second Brother.”
He thought Empress Zhou meant for the six of them to admire lanterns together. If so, how could he let his delicate sister-in-law do the physical work of pushing a wheelchair?
Yao Huang felt Prince Kang was somewhat foolish. She glanced at Chen Ying, who had fallen several steps behind with an uneasy expression, and said softly: “With such beautiful scenery on this lovely evening, why isn’t Big Brother accompanying my prospective big sister-in-law instead of interfering with the private time between the prince and me?”
Zhao Sui: “…”
Prince Kang: “…”
By the time Prince Kang recovered from his second sister-in-law’s direct words, Yao Huang had already pushed her own prince some distance away.
Prince Kang was, after all, someone who was already a father. After his principal wife died, he still had two side consorts for company. Coming around the bend, he looked toward the prospective princess consort in the distance—she was just a sixteen-year-old young lady, gentle and delicate, and he would be her most intimate husband after she left her homeland.
“Let’s go.” Prince Kang called Chen Ying to his side and pointed to another path.
Chen Ying didn’t dare raise her head to look at him at all. With a red face, she nodded and deliberately maintained some distance as she followed beside Prince Kang.
Only then did Prince Qing and Zheng Yuanzhen, familiar since childhood, arrive at this fork in the path.
Zheng Yuanzhen wore a dignified expression. Prince Qing looked at this cousin whom he could marry into the prince’s residence in a few more days, yet a fire ignited in his heart.
Although the princess consort Second Brother had chosen was indeed outstandingly beautiful, she was after all a stranger who had only appeared this year. But after Prince Qing at age fourteen first tasted carnal matters from a chambermaid, Prince Qing had begun to evaluate all the young women appearing around him in that regard—those with plain looks held no interest at all; those with exceptional looks, he found ways to obtain.
Among them, his cousin Zheng Yuanzhen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and also his aunt’s treasured pearl whom he couldn’t casually defile.
The more he couldn’t touch her, the more Prince Qing thought about her. When he learned his aunt wanted to marry his cousin to Second Brother, Prince Qing had been quite angry. He hadn’t expected Second Brother would actually have an accident and lack that good fortune!
“Cousin, shall we go this way?” Prince Qing pointed to another path.
He was very close. Zheng Yuanzhen smelled an alcohol odor that nauseated her. For some reason, from the corner of her eye she glanced toward the wheelchair that was almost out of sight, blocked by someone for the most part.
In terms of appearance and ability, that person was the best, but unfortunately…
She nodded, agreeing to Prince Qing’s suggestion.