The consequence of Sun Liuxiang’s persistence was that she and Prince He became tied to Yuwen Xi’s fate, with no way back even if she wanted one.

Everyone could see clearly how things stood. Although Prince Xi vehemently denied the Empress Dowager’s words, she had been willing to sacrifice her own reputation to reveal the truth of that year — who could doubt her? Moreover, given the way of the world, good news never traveled beyond the household while bad news spread a thousand li, so soon the streets and alleys were all discussing the Empress Dowager’s old affair with Hua Zhengrong, and naturally taking the opportunity to disparage the “bastard” as well.

Scholars dared not speak Yuwen Xi’s name directly, fearing arrest, so they cleverly changed his surname, calling him “Hua Xi” instead. When acquaintances met on the street and mentioned this name, it was always with contempt.

Anyone with a discerning eye knew Prince Xi was a grasshopper past autumn — he wouldn’t be leaping about much longer. If not for Prince He backing him, he would surely already have been chased to a dead end by Huo Zichong.

Some of the feudal princes friendly with Prince He privately passed word to him: “Your ship is clearly sinking — why still hold on?”

Prince He sighed deeply. “She’s my own daughter, born of my own flesh. I can’t simply abandon her.”

Sun Liuxiang had only spent about half a month with Prince Xi, yet for whatever reason, she had convinced herself he was wholeheartedly devoted to her, and so refused to leave no matter what, following him as they fled from place to place, braving wind and dew.

As a father, his heart ached, and so he had no choice but to grit his teeth and help Yuwen Xi.

With the fires of war raging, Hua Chun stayed shut in at the palace, and her only real amusement was listening to gossip. Lately, all the gossip concerned this Sun Liuxiang.

“This servant used to think she was rather clever,” Qing Niao said as she poured hot tea. “Who would have guessed she’d be so foolish — anyone with half a brain could tell Prince Xi was never sincere toward her, yet she’s actually gone out to defend him.”

“Defend him how?” Hua Chun asked curiously.

Qing Niao pressed her lips together and took a piece of paper from Rui’er nearby. “See for yourself. This servant is too embarrassed to say it.”

Hmm? Raising an eyebrow slightly, Hua Chun took the paper and read it carefully.

“Ode to Lord Xi”: Born into the imperial house, gentle and refined, at three he read poetry, at five he could paint. His face shone like fine jade, his heart brimmed with warm devotion. Though he lacked the fortune of dragon-born qi, he carried the world’s gentle warmth. He treats others as water treats all things, his heart holds all under heaven — he is no treacherous villain as slandered, but truly a loyal and worthy minister…

Rubbing her eyes, Hua Chun thought she must be misreading the characters. “What is this she wrote? Yuwen Xi is a… loyal minister?”

Qing Niao nodded gravely. “This servant thinks Consort Liuxiang has truly lost her mind.”

What blatant nonsense, spoken with a completely straight face! If Yuwen Xi counted as a loyal minister, were there any disloyal ones left in all of Great Liang?

After thinking it over carefully, Hua Chun said with total seriousness, “She’s simply wearing rose-colored glasses that are far too thick — probably loves him so much she’s applying a mental filter, turning that lunatic Yuwen Xi into a handsome, gentle young gentleman in her mind. There’s no waking a bystander from that kind of delusion. But… where did this essay come from?”

Qing Niao sighed. “Consort Liuxiang had this essay copied ten thousand times and distributed everywhere — of course the capital has copies too.”

Her mouth twitching, Hua Chun couldn’t help but say, “With a wife like that, what more could Yuwen Xi possibly ask for?”

“Prince Xi couldn’t care less about her,” Qing Niao shook her head. “Poor foolish consort — who knows when she’ll be discarded.”

“Since we’ve got nothing else to do,” Hua Chun said, “let’s have someone follow the progress of this romance between the two of them and dig up some gossip?”

Qing Niao paused. “My lady, His Majesty and the marquis are both so busy — shouldn’t you be thinking of how to help them instead?”

“They don’t want my help.” Shrugging, Hua Chun said, “Given how things stand now, capturing Prince Xi is only a matter of time. His Majesty told me to just stay put and not do anything.”

Glancing down at her belly, Qing Niao said, “You’re already showing quite a bit — you really shouldn’t be exerting yourself. This servant will have people go find out, so please rest well.”

“Mm.” Hua Chun nodded.

Back in the modern era, she had quite enjoyed watching gossip too — people were always pouring their hearts out on social media confessionals, and everyone else could watch all sorts of foolish girls and scumbag men unfold. Someone always commented that there were too many foolish girls in this world and not enough scumbags to go around. At first Hua Chun had thought the same, but later she realized the girls weren’t foolish at all — they simply had their eyes clouded in love. Just watch how ruthlessly they settled accounts once they stopped liking someone.

Love truly was a strange thing, often giving people the illusion that they were the one person in the world who understood their partner best. And yet, standing too close, one couldn’t see the whole of the mountain — so many people got lost within it and simply refused to come out.

Yuwen Xi’s feelings for Sun Liuxiang had started from self-interest, but who could say there was no genuine feeling between them at all by now?

Resentment could be just as intense an emotion as affection.

Xifeng City.

Having fled here in a sorry state, Prince Xi’s temper had grown fierce — no one dared approach him, leaving only Zhanshui standing guard outside his door.

“Your Highness.” Having heard his subordinate’s report, Zhanshui had no choice but to stand outside and speak. “Last night’s deserters numbered two hundred and eighty in total. All have now been captured.”

“Execute every single one of them!” Yuwen Xi slammed the table and roared.

Zhanshui flinched, then hurried to pass down the order.

With deserters increasing by the day, surely there would come a day when not a single man remained at his side? Yuwen Xi snorted coldly. He didn’t understand how he had come to this point — victory had clearly been within his grasp, yet so many complications had sprung up out of nowhere! If only… but there was no point in “if only” anymore. What he needed to think about now was how to turn things around.

“Your Highness.” Sun Liuxiang came in happily, carrying a plate of pastries. “Try some? This concubine made them herself…”

Just as the plate reached him, Yuwen Xi swept it aside with his hand, sending the pastries flying into the air. Sun Liuxiang, quick-eyed and quick-handed, immediately dropped to her knees and caught one — a sugar-filled pastry!

Plump as she was, it didn’t hinder her agility in the slightest!

Yuwen Xi paused for a moment, glanced at the mass of flesh on the floor, and said in a low voice, “Don’t disturb me.”

“This concubine just heard you were unhappy, so I brought something to eat…” Blinking, Sun Liuxiang looked at him carefully. “This concubine finds that eating something always helps when feeling down.”

So that’s why you’re this fat! Rolling his eyes, Yuwen Xi had no idea how to respond, but not wanting to embarrass her too openly, he simply said, “I’m not hungry.”

Her eyes darting about, Sun Liuxiang suddenly seemed to understand. “This concubine understands!”

Then she got up and dashed out the door.

Relieved, Yuwen Xi thought this plump woman was sensible after all — right now he just wanted some peace and quiet.

“Your Highness!”

She had not even been gone the time it takes an incense stick to burn before she returned. This time she brought no food, but instead wore an enormous voluminous skirt, her face painted with two red suns, her hair styled into two small braids — the overall effect was thoroughly alarming.

Yuwen Xi was startled speechless, staring blankly at her.

“If you won’t eat, then watch this concubine dance! Every time my father was unhappy, I could always make him laugh out loud!” Sun Liuxiang grinned, the fat under her chin rippling in layers, and without further ado called out, “Musician!”

The musician came in carrying his instrument and began playing a cheerful tune. Yuwen Xi watched, his face a mask of dark disbelief, as a plump woman wrapped in what looked more like a tablecloth than a skirt hopped left and right in front of him — nothing about it resembled dancing at all, more like some kind of shamanic ritual.

The plump woman before him apparently thought she looked rather lovely, for she made sure to smile at him with every turn, every sway of her hips — anytime her face pointed toward him, she smiled.

The whole scene looked no different from a clown act. Yuwen Xi had to grip the armrest beside him with considerable effort to keep his expression composed and avoid laughing at her.

When the song ended and she saw the prince still hadn’t laughed, Sun Liuxiang grew a bit anxious and dashed back out to fetch a pair of stilts.

Indeed — stilts, the wood twice as thick as an ordinary person’s leg, and she wobbled her way back in on them.

“Your Highness, look — doesn’t this make me look much thinner?” Sun Liuxiang asked with a smile.

Yuwen Xi replied with a strained smile, “Like a pair of chopsticks clamping a meatball.”

“Haha, that’s true.”

Any other plump woman would have been offended to hear such a thing, but Sun Liuxiang didn’t mind at all, walking back and forth in front of him with a playful grin, her massive frame making Yuwen Xi genuinely nervous, terrified she might fall and crash straight through the floor.

“Ah!” One misstep, and Sun Liuxiang truly was about to fall, her hands circling wildly in the air — plenty of time for Yuwen Xi to step forward and catch her.

And yet, perhaps still scarred by the last time she’d crushed him, Yuwen Xi chose to remain seated, watching with wide eyes as she landed on the floor with a resounding “thump.”

“Hahaha—” Her appearance was simply too ridiculous, and Prince Xi finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.

It looked exactly like a freshly dropped lump of dough hitting a pan!

Sun Liuxiang’s face went pale with pain, but she was delighted to discover that he had finally laughed, and quickly grabbed the stilts and scrambled up, laughing along with him.

Zhanshui, outside, listened in astonishment to his master’s laughter, unable to resist peeking in, and seeing the messy pile on the floor, gently shook his head.

How was this anything resembling the dignity of a princess consort?

Prince Xi laughed for a good while before finally stopping, glancing up to see her face smeared with disheveled makeup, and couldn’t help but laugh again.

Sun Liuxiang simply stared at him foolishly, murmuring, “You look so handsome when you laugh — who says His Highness has a sinister look about him…”

Still, the fall had truly hurt her — she needed two days in bed to recover.

Yet just one day later, the army was already breaking camp to continue moving.

Sun Liuxiang asked quietly, “May this concubine walk at the back to keep up? My waist…”

Prince Xi’s expression turned cold, and he looked at her for a long moment. “Does the princess wish to flee as well?”

“No, no, no!” Sun Liuxiang waved her hands hurriedly, the fat under her chin swaying along with the motion. “Even if everyone else fled, this concubine never would!”

“Then keep up. Don’t fall behind.” Yuwen Xi waved his hand, and someone brought the carriage around.