Prince Shao’s outer residence was located in Yandu Ward in the eastern part of the city. Before his serious illness, he would go there to stay for seven or eight days each month. Now bedridden with lingering illness, he hadn’t left his quarters for three months, but communication between the prince’s manor and the outer residence never ceased.

Sometimes Steward Li Chengyin would send people to deliver money and goods, and sometimes the outer residence would dispatch people to inquire about Prince Shao’s condition. Today’s visitors were two maids named Cailu and Cailian – their names clearly came from the same source as Madam Li’s servant girls. After paying respects to Li Yuanying, Cailu took three sets of undergarments from her bundle, saying they were cut from the imperial silk gifts, and with the weather turning cold, these were additional clothes for the prince.

Women personally tailoring clothing as tokens of affection for lovers or husbands was commonplace. Madam Li accepted the garments and softly inquired of the two: “Is everything well with Madam Yu? Does she lack anything?”

Both the Li and Yu families were Prince Shao’s wet nurses. The two women had partnered for years with harmonious relations, frequently exchanging gifts.

Cailu replied: “Nothing else is lacking. Might I ask if there’s any hand cream left from what was brought from the capital? When doing needlework, dry hands easily snag the silk.”

Youzhou’s climate was much drier than Chang’an’s, requiring more face cream and lip balm for skin care. Madam Li said: “The last batch was given to the west courtyard. I had people purchase some local products from the market – the quality is rougher, but it will have to do.”

Cailian laughed: “The west courtyard seems to consume these things like food – they always use them much faster than we do.”

Madam Li spoke sternly: “Don’t complain. They have more needlework to do than you.”

Li Yuanying rarely got up from bed, sitting at his desk to review letters from the outer residence. To avoid making disruptive noise that might disturb him, they spoke softly and quickly. Though Huo Qi Lang had no intention of eavesdropping, her keen hearing meant these conversations still clearly reached her ears.

She felt rather disappointed. She had thought joining the prince’s manor would allow some romantic adventures, but who knew management from top to bottom was extremely strict – even wandering the inner quarters during off-duty time was impossible. Otherwise, given her usual style, by now several young ladies should have been actively making handkerchiefs and pouches to give her.

As for men, with Li Yuanying himself present, no other alternatives caught her eye. Besides, men’s jealousy was far more intense than women’s, and their methods more violent. Since getting that sword slash across her face, she had inevitably become more restrained in her actions.

These past few days she had practiced disguising herself as Prince Shao twice more, but in his trusted associates’ eyes, her spirit and energy were too abundant, her temperament too wild. At first glance it was hard to distinguish, but careful observation for a moment revealed strange behavior, not to mention the problem of being exposed the moment she spoke. Therefore, aside from standing night watch to ward off evil, she hadn’t been put to any real use.

At the fixed daily time, a palace attendant announced the princess consort’s arrival for her morning greeting. After Cui Lingrong entered the room and glimpsed Cailu and Cailian, she knew people from Lady Jing’s side had come to visit.

She pretended not to see them and calmly approached Li Yuanying to bow and inquire after his health: “My lord seems somewhat more spirited today.”

Li Yuanying’s eyes bore the dark circles of chronic insomnia. To say he was well would be untrue – his condition showed no improvement. To say he was bad, there were no signs of imminent death either. In the end, he only responded with a faint acknowledgment.

Princess Consort Cui stepped forward two paces, walking to the desk to pour tea for him, her movements somewhat awkward. Li Yuanying noticed her hands were red and chapped but hesitated to speak. The two spent a moment together in an atmosphere of embarrassment and unfamiliarity before Cui voluntarily took her leave.

As usual when departing, she handed over recently sewn garments to Madam Li for unified management, checking when they could be worn. Madam Li said: “The princess consort has worked hard – you may delay three days and rest a bit.”

Cui Lingrong started, then looked toward the bundle in Cailu’s hands and understood. She bit her lip and left silently with her maids.

Huo Qi Lang observed the entire exchange and suddenly said to Li Yuanying: “Are you two unfamiliar with each other?”

She had witnessed too many romantic affairs and could usually guess the emotional state and development stage based on eyes and behavior alone, hitting the mark nine times out of ten.

Li Yuanying acted as if he hadn’t heard, placing the letter over a candle flame to ignite it, then tossing it into the charcoal brazier to burn.

Huo Qi Lang tilted her head with a smile: “Could it be you’ve never been intimate?”

This nearly angered him, but lacking energy to explode, Li Yuanying said coldly: “That’s not something you should comment on.”

Huo Qi Lang spoke bluntly: “The prince speaks little – I have no chance to imitate your voice and manner, so I must seize opportunities for casual conversation.”

Li Yuanying said straightforwardly: “She has her people, I have mine. We don’t interfere with each other – this was agreed upon from the beginning.”

This was unexpected. Huo Qi Lang showed slight surprise: “So you each play separately… you wealthy people really know how to have fun.”

Though such arrangements were rare, they weren’t entirely unheard of.

Huo Qi Lang thought Princess Consort Cui’s behavior didn’t seem like calm acceptance – perhaps there had been a change of heart after the agreement. Of course, matters of love were inherently changeable, with shifting affections and climbing over walls being commonplace. Facing such absolute beauty daily, regretting previous decisions was understandable – she just wondered who Princess Consort Cui’s lover was. Someone from outside? Or a staff member or guard from the manor?

Li Yuanying supported himself against the desk and slowly walked to lie down on the bed. Huo Qi Lang followed, pulling the brocade quilt over him and sitting on the foot couch to continue chattering: “Single-minded devotion can be quite boring sometimes. Isn’t enjoying multiple beauties better?”

Li Yuanying felt needle-like pain at the back of his head and was about to tell her to shut up and get lost, but Huo Qi continued: “The prince is too serious and conservative, not as open-minded as your sister. Jiu Niang once told me she wanted to become a female Taoist priest and keep several young lovers to live happily.”

She had roughly figured out Li Yuanying’s weak spot – this person naturally preferred quiet and, suffering from migraines, couldn’t tolerate noise. But whenever his sister was mentioned, regardless of content, he could always endure listening for a while.

Sure enough, Li Yuanying asked in shock: “She said that?!”

Huo Qi Lang laughed: “Absolutely true – our entire Canyang Academy sect was present to hear it. I was puzzled then how such a young girl could have such lofty aspirations. Now knowing her identity, there’s no question. Being a princess, naturally she must have several male favorites to maintain dignity.”

Li Yuanying slowly closed his eyes and fell silent again, this time for an exceptionally long period.

Since their parting in Chang’an last autumn, he and Bao Zhu hadn’t seen each other for a full year. Though they exchanged letters, to prevent surveillance and avoid revealing their feelings, they couldn’t say anything intimate.

He knew that after witnessing their mother’s tragic death in childbirth, his sister no longer wanted to discuss marriage and yearned to enter religious life. He just hadn’t expected her to have such thoughts. Was it because they’d been separated too long and she’d grown up, or had someone led her astray during this time?

Huo Qi Lang sat beside him, brazenly admiring his fragile, melancholic beauty made more poignant by illness while speaking eloquently with hints of mockery: “In chaotic times, human life is like morning dew – one should be more indulgent to make this worldly journey worthwhile. Since the prince’s body is ailing and he lacks energy to manage everything, your subordinate could disguise herself as you to visit Lady Jing and comfort the princess consort – no extra charge.”

Li Yuanying lay with eyes closed, saying nothing, his hand reaching into the jade box by his pillow to stroke the wooden scales of the carp message, repeatedly convincing himself that this rude person was a secret messenger sent by Bao Zhu, and her fellow disciples were Bao Zhu’s only guards on the road. For his sister’s sake, he must endure her for now, no matter what.

After Huo Qi Lang finished her provocative speech and saw his eyelashes trembling, knowing she’d pushed him nearly to the breaking point, she timely stopped talking.

Li Yuanying never looked in mirrors and detested others staring at his face. Yet Huo Qi used “implementing disguise techniques requires detailed observation” as an excuse to constantly seize opportunities to assault this impossible-to-replicate countenance with her gaze.

Suddenly, he asked: “Since you dare walk the world with your true face, why take a male name to hide it?”

Huo Qi Lang was momentarily stunned by the question, then smiled openly: “It’s not really hiding – just trying to make a living. My family were military households. Father and brothers all died in battle with no one to support the old and young at home. I took this name to enlist and draw military pay.”

After hearing this, Li Yuanying said no more.

Autumn rain fell softly. The borderlands gradually entered deep autumn. Though not yet at the point where “in barbarian lands snow flies in the eighth month,” threads of yin-cold coolness quietly penetrated every corner. Even the guards on duty under the corridors had changed to lined garments under their armor.

Perhaps due to the cold rain, even the crows on the roof had left tonight. Except for the continuous sound of rain, it was exceptionally quiet.

Huo Qi Lang dozed fitfully for a while, then suddenly heard a muffled thud. She instantly awoke, gripping her blade and rolling up, holding her breath as she scanned the surroundings but saw no assassin. She immediately pulled open the brocade curtains and found Li Yuanying safe and sound – only the silver incense burner at the foot of the bed had fallen over.

With the weather turning cold, Madam Li feared Prince Shao might catch another chill while ill, adding frost to snow, so she’d placed heating implements on his bed. To avoid danger, the fire had long been extinguished, leaving only the residual warmth of refined charcoal for heating. Therefore, when it toppled, there was no fire, just ash scattered across the bedding.

It seemed that during his tossing and turning, he’d accidentally knocked over the incense burner.

Huo Qi Lang sighed in relief, releasing her sword hilt, and first carried out the silver incense burner. The brocade coverlets were layered thick – she only lifted the outermost layer to bundle up the ash and toss it elsewhere for others to clean up tomorrow.

As for Li Yuanying himself, his dusky purple middle garment was also stained with some charcoal ash. He stared blankly at where the incense burner had been, as if he hadn’t yet come to his senses.

Huo Qi Lang asked: “Does the prince need to change clothes?”

He said as if in a dream: “What?”

Huo Qi Lang sighed, knowing he was often muddled and confused during the night. Thinking these clothes would be discarded and replaced tomorrow anyway, she decided to make do for tonight and gently brushed and patted them clean for him.

Under the dim candlelight, Li Yuanying’s figure appeared increasingly gaunt. He was like a glacier reflected in a stream – though his bearing still maintained its lofty, snow-covered posture, it flickered in and out with the current. The jade mountain was about to collapse.

Huo Qi Lang inadvertently touched his ice-cold skin and felt a surge of restlessness in her heart.

She remembered the song the Hu maidens sang in taverns: “All beautiful things lack durability; colored clouds easily scatter, crystal glass is fragile.” She couldn’t help but sigh: supreme beauty ultimately cannot last long. Bao Zhu had hired her to rush to Youzhou with urgent news, letting her encounter the world’s greatest beauty before he died – this was an opportunity bestowed by heaven.

If she missed this chance and let him die of illness before she fulfilled her long-cherished wish, she feared it would be her, Huo Qi, who would suffer insomnia for the rest of her life. Having slept beside him for over ten nights while restraining herself from acting – even facing the world’s greatest beauty, this showed sufficient respect.

Huo Qi Lang’s gaze lingered long on this face full of weariness, saying softly: “My master had a fellow disciple who was a renowned physician in Xiangzhou. Master’s senior brother once said: those who labor with their bodies sleep soundly, while those who labor with their minds find sleep elusive. People who overthink lack physical activity – they have qi deficiency and blood heat. Though their minds are exhausted, their bodies haven’t expended excess energy, so they can’t sleep.”

Li Yuanying’s consciousness gradually focused, saying wearily: “Is the treatment to force those who labor mentally to go out and perform physical labor?”

“It’s raining outside – we needn’t go out.” She softly revealed her intentions, extending her hand to gently caress this long-coveted countenance.

Though cold invaded his flesh, her palm was burning hot. This unusual look and behavior clearly overstepped bounds. Li Yuanying immediately awakened, using the back of his hand to block her arm.

Huo Qi Lang only smiled lightly, drew out her horizontal sword and placed it at the head of the bed, then turned back to draw the brocade curtains closed. In the half-light and shadow of the canopy, Huo Qi Lang emanated an aura of inevitable victory as she pressed closer, saying in a low voice near his ear: “Your subordinate has heard that Youzhou has always had a tradition of subordinates overthrowing superiors… What does the prince think?”

Author’s Note:

“My sect Canyang Academy is a famous righteous school in Guanzhong” – Background checks during job interviews are sometimes quite important.