The mosquitoes buzzed loudly. Autumn mosquitoes bite the most viciously—without catching it, there would be no sleep tonight.

Hu Shanwei got up to hunt the mosquito, lighting an oil lamp and covering it with a lampshade that opened sideways like a swan’s neck. The mosquito, like a moth, preferred to fly toward warm places.

Hu Shanwei held up the lamp and waited by the proverbial tree for the rabbit. Soon enough, the mosquito flew over. When Hu Shanwei brought the lamp close to illuminate it, the hot air from the burning oil sucked the mosquito right into the lamp.

The difference between humans and other life forms lies in the ability to control one’s instincts and desires—just like this mosquito, whose instincts drew it to the flame, only to lose its life.

Hu Shanwei used this to warn herself: control yourself, don’t indulge your desires and be dragged to a place of eternal damnation. Even in dreams, she must restrain herself. That pillow that appeared out of nowhere last night was truly too dangerous.

The next day, Mu Chun came early to the Xiaoling Mausoleum to help her feed the deer. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t skillfully control the herd, causing yet another flower bed to be trampled by the deer—exactly what he had hoped for.

Mu Chun cheerfully went to the flower market to buy corresponding flowers for replanting, wanting to repeat his old trick of touching Sister Shanwei’s fingers in the soil. But this time, Hu Shanwei cruelly refused: “You caused the trouble yourself, so fix it yourself. I won’t help you anymore.”

If there were another incident like last night, Hu Shanwei worried she couldn’t resist Mu Chun’s temptation and might break her vows, so she maintained a cold facade.

Mu Chun was immediately dumbstruck: Why was Sister Shanwei being so hot and cold?

Mu Chun chased after her, tugging at her sleeve. “You’re unhappy—what did I do wrong?”

It’s not that you’re wrong; it’s that I’ve developed improper thoughts about you. Hu Shanwei really couldn’t speak these true words aloud. “I’m still busy making a grass nest for the newly arrived green peafowl today. I have no time to help you plant flowers.”

“That’s easy to solve.” Mu Chun called over Captain Shi, Chen Xuan, and other subordinates. “This cart of flowers is yours to handle. I have other matters.”

After arranging things here, Mu Chun ran to the pond to find Hu Shanwei, helping her build two grass shelters while beautifully declaring: “I’ve traveled thousands of miles to bring wives to these male peacocks, and now I’m conveniently providing a bridal chamber for the two new couples, wishing them happiness and prosperity, and may they lay precious eggs soon.”

Hu Shanwei couldn’t help but laugh.

Faced with the scheming, unscrupulous, passionate Mu Chun, the defenses that Hu Shanwei had worked so hard to build last night immediately collapsed again: I’ll just think about it like a daydream, have a dream—dreaming isn’t against the law, right? How can dreams be taken seriously?

Seeing her smile, Mu Chun worked even more diligently. Glimpsing a rouge-like red mark in the hollow of her neck, his mind immediately exploded like a firecracker.

Last night, Mu Chun had an indescribable beautiful dream where Hu Shanwei came running at night with a pillow to meet him among the hydrangea flowers. She wasn’t even wearing shoes, her white socks touching the moss as they embraced among the flowers, closely entwined, slowly connected. The small hollow of her collarbone was finally thoroughly enjoyed, quenching his thirst in a night of wild abandon.

Coming here early today, he saw the rouge-red mark in Hu Shanwei’s neck hollow, as if the dream had become reality: scattered hair on the pillow, slippery moss on her socks…

Hu Shanwei felt Mu Chun’s increasingly bold gaze settling on her collar area. Looking down, she saw half a mosquito bite showing on her neck. She adjusted her collar to cover the unseemly red mark. “It’s from an autumn mosquito bite. What are you looking at? Hurry up and get to work.”

I must have had my soul attached to that autumn mosquito last night, Mu Chun thought.

After the two grass shelters were built, Mu Chun was very satisfied with his craftsmanship. “This is the Xiaoling Mausoleum, otherwise I would paste a happiness character on it.”

At dusk, the two newly arrived bride green peafowl bathed their feathers in the pond while Hu Shanwei used flute sounds to summon the groom green peacocks who had been wild all day.

Soon, the grooms with their naturally radiant plumage flew back in pairs. As divine birds of the Xiaoling Mausoleum, they enjoyed excellent treatment with food, lodging, and assigned wives all provided.

Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun eagerly anticipated how the four green peacocks would pair up, projecting their own suppressed emotions onto these birds.

Who knew that when the grooms saw two more of their kind in their territory, instead of showing joy at their new marriages, they became alert and called out warnings to the new brides. The feathers on their rear ends frequently spread into fans, standing erect in combat readiness.

The two female peacocks had traveled thousands of miles together to get here, building a deep friendship along the way. Seeing the provocation, they also banded together, vowing to fight for this excellent territory.

The grooms first launched an attack on the brides, stretching their necks to peck at them—domestic violence had begun.

Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun, who had calculated everything except this outcome, both shouted in unison: “Let go of your wives!”

Mu Chun waved a bamboo pole to separate the fighting peacocks. Unfortunately, all four peacocks were injured to varying degrees, with bright feathers pecked out and scattered in the lotus pond.

The green peacocks used practical action to resist feudal arranged marriages.

Hu Shanwei was at a loss and had to move the brides and one grass shelter to a small pond on the north side to prevent them from continuing to fight. If they developed serious problems, and with Empress Xiaoci’s anniversary approaching, Emperor Hongwu might cut off her head as a sacrifice to heaven.

Mu Chun took off his upper garment and jumped into the southern pond wearing only pants to retrieve peacock feathers one by one, cleaning the battlefield to “destroy evidence” and prevent anyone from seeing what had happened.

While collecting feathers, he lectured the grooms: “Men hitting women—have you no shame? Eh? I traveled thousands of miles to choose wives for you, and you don’t know how to treasure them. You’ve driven away the brides—are you two planning to be bachelors for life?”

“I’m telling you, in all of the capital, there are only these two green peafowl. What are you still picking and choosing? Do you really think you’re phoenixes? Ptui, ptui, ptui!”

Mu Chun spat out pond water while checking under the basin-sized lotus leaves for hidden peacock feathers. “Don’t like them? No feelings? That’s not an issue—feelings can develop slowly. But hitting people because you don’t like them? That’s not a reason—that’s purely a moral problem. You two bastards, if His Majesty weren’t eager to hold phoenix eggs, I would have stewed you wife-beating scoundrels long ago…”

After Hu Shanwei settled the injured, frightened, and helpless brides, she returned to the south side just in time to see Mu Chun scolding the two grooms into shame (fear), making them hide in the reed marsh without coming out.

Seeing Hu Shanwei arrive, Mu Chun surfaced from the water, bare-chested with hair floating messily like water grass, bewitchingly seductive, like a carp spirit that had emerged from the pond.

Hu Shanwei quickly turned away. “The Xiaoling Mausoleum is a pure and clean place—how can you appear disheveled and improperly dressed? Put your clothes on quickly.”

See no evil. Hu Shanwei tried hard to delete the image of that half-naked carp spirit from her mind, but that night the carp spirit still forcefully entered her dreams.

The duckweed on the pond couldn’t hide it all; lotus flowers bloomed to their end in autumn light. Fish played among lotus leaves—east, west, south, north. The carp spirit’s play made the lotus flowers sway violently; red petals fell completely, golden stamens scattered, on the acacia branch fragrant chambers were green, scattered remnant red in autumn waves.

A night of beautiful dreams.

Upon waking the next day, outside the window was sparse rain and sudden wind, the sound of rain hitting banana leaves entering her ears continuously.

Hai Tang had just returned wearing a bamboo hat and rain cape. “I’ve already fed the deer and returned—seeing you sleeping so soundly on this rainy day, I didn’t wake you. Early this morning, Lord Mu sent two baskets of hot steamed buns with porridge, still warm in the pot—shall I bring them out or would you like to lie in bed a while longer? This rain really brings autumn; even I want to take a nap.”

“I’ll get up now.” Hu Shanwei put on clothes and got out of bed. She couldn’t sleep any longer—if she continued sleeping, that incredibly absurd yet beautiful dream might continue. In the end, Tang Sanzang couldn’t resist the deep affection of the Queen of the Women’s Kingdom and indulged his seven emotions and six desires. Mandarin ducks roosted in pairs, butterflies flew in pairs, the spring colors of the pond were intoxicating. What royal power and wealth, what monastic rules and regulations—none of it existed.

Breaking vows in dreams doesn’t count as breaking them.

Hu Shanwei comforted herself, steadied her mind, and after washing and grooming, sat at her dressing table while Hai Tang combed her hair. “Your complexion is excellent today, rosy red—you don’t even need rouge.”

Hu Shanwei dared not face her spring-radiant reflection directly in the mirror. “I slept too comfortably on this rainy day, so naturally my spirits are good.”

Pretend all you want—I’ll see how long you can keep this up.

Hai Tang pressed her lips tightly together, suppressing laughter, remembering how last night during the rain, she had worried that Hu Shanwei might leave her window open and let rain drift in. So she got up to close the window for her.

Even the lightning and thunder couldn’t wake the person on the bed. Hai Tang heard her murmuring Mu Chun’s name in her sleep, just like the delirious whispers during her high fever when she was attacked by the Silkworm Mother assassin that year.

Hu Shanwei was concerned about the female green peacocks who had just relocated, so after breakfast she carried an umbrella to the pond. From a distance, she saw Mu Chun wearing a bamboo hat, holding the male green peacocks by their sides as they came to “offer their apologies with thorns on their backs.”

Remembering last night’s spring dream, she momentarily couldn’t face Mu Chun. Hu Shanwei turned to leave.

After taking two steps, she stopped. In the end, she couldn’t bear to leave and couldn’t help wanting to see him. Reason and emotion battled, with reason suffering defeat after defeat, collapsing completely.

At the grass shelter entrance, Mu Chun chattered on: “Ladies… they know they were wrong and have come to apologize. Please forgive them. If you don’t forgive them, they can’t marry; if they can’t marry, they can’t lay eggs; if they can’t lay eggs, there won’t be little peacocks; if there aren’t little peacocks, we’ll have to trouble Lady Ming De to tribute a new pair of peacocks to the capital, wasting resources and energy. Don’t you think so?”

The two female green peacocks, hearing the commotion from yesterday’s adversaries, immediately felt uneasy and huddled in their grass nest without coming out, unable to answer Mu Chun’s question.

Mu Chun said, “Since you don’t object, you accept the apology.”

Mu Chun released them, hoping the peacocks would fight at the head of the bed but make up at the foot. But he greatly underestimated the scoundrel male peacocks in his hands. They had no intention of apologizing whatsoever. Once freed, they immediately fluttered their wings and flew away.

This pair of peacocks, being heavy-bodied, couldn’t fly high or far. They flew intermittently, stopping frequently, and quickly returned to their own nests to groom each other’s water-dampened feathers with brotherly affection, completely ignoring the female peacocks.

“Forcing apologies doesn’t work,” Hu Shanwei said. “Birds and beasts each have their own temperaments—you can’t rush things.”

Mu Chun said ingratiatingly, “You understand these birds and beasts well, just like you understand me.”

Hu Shanwei thought: Fortunately, the real Mu Chun is different from the dream Mu Chun. The dream Mu Chun wouldn’t say such foolish things.

Due to the poor first impressions they made on each other, the four green phoenixes of the Xiaoling Mausoleum eventually paired up in a special way: one lesbian couple and one gay couple.

Everyone guarded their own pond, non-aggressive and non-interfering, coexisting peacefully.

“No need to worry,” Mu Chun comforted Hu Shanwei. “According to Lady Ming De, green peacocks go into heat in spring and lay eggs in early summer. By then, we won’t need to play matchmaker—they’ll pair up naturally.”

Hu Shanwei felt guilty. Hearing these words, her face flushed red as she swept her sleeves and left.

Mu Chun was left standing there. Recently, Sister Shanwei’s attitude toward him had become increasingly strange—hot and cold, changing moods like flipping pages. What had he said wrong just now? Nothing that he could tell.

Hongwu Year 16, eighth month, tenth day—Empress Xiaoci’s minor memorial (first anniversary).

On that day, Emperor Hongwu wore plain clothes with a black rhinoceros horn belt, performed morning memorial rites, suspended court for three days, and forbade music and slaughter in the capital for three days. The Crown Prince and the princes in the capital first went to the Xiaoling Mausoleum to pay respects to their legitimate mother.

Civil and military officials wore plain clothes with black horn belts and performed consolation rites, while the noble ladies of the capital wore plain clothes to enter the palace and perform incense offering rites.

The next day, Emperor Hongwu personally visited the Xiaoling Mausoleum. Imperial Consorts Guo Ning, Guo Hui, Da Ding, and other concubines of primary palace positions all accompanied the imperial carriage, offering incense to Empress Xiaoci’s spirit tablet with earth-shaking wails.

Emperor Hongwu still had phoenix eggs on his mind and went to the pond to see the green phoenixes, asking, “Why is there only one pair?”

Emperor Hongwu couldn’t distinguish male from female and thought the ones catching insects in the pond were one male and one female, when actually they were still that pair of male phoenixes.

Hu Shanwei said, “The other pair flew to Sun Quan’s tomb early this morning.”

Zhong Mountain was a feng shui treasure land where many famous people were buried. Emperor Hongwu, having chosen this location for his and Empress Xiaoci’s mausoleum, broke with tradition out of respect for Sun Quan, the Three Kingdoms hero, by making the Xiaoling Mausoleum’s spirit path (the route for carrying coffins to burial chambers) curved instead of straight. Rather than excavating Sun Quan’s tomb to make way for himself, he protected it well.

Previous monarchs’ spirit paths were all straight roads. Emperor Hongwu was unconventional—hero appreciating hero. Based on this alone, Emperor Hongwu was an admirable ruler.

Emperor Hongwu looked around and noticed something amiss, pointing at the green peacocks’ plumage. “Why are their feathers less lustrous than before?”

Because they fought each other. Hu Shanwei didn’t dare tell the truth. “When autumn arrives, phoenixes begin shedding and replacing feathers to prepare for winter, so their plumage hasn’t been as beautiful as before lately.”

Mu Chun nervously touched his head. “This subject’s hair also falls out severely in autumn and winter. Who would have thought phoenixes are the same way?”

Ji Gang nodded, sincerely agreeing, “What a coincidence—this subject is the same. Every morning when combing my hair, it falls all over the floor.”

Emperor Hongwu pointed at both of them. “You two need to take care of yourselves. At such young ages, don’t go bald before you even marry and have children.”

Both men quickly said, “Thank you for Your Majesty’s concern.”

At midday, during a brief rest, Imperial Consort Guo Ning indeed visited Hu Shanwei’s residence personally.

Hu Shanwei appeared flattered and honored, hastily performing a bow. “This place is humble and simple—why has Your Ladyship come here?”

Imperial Consort Guo Ning quickly walked over and grasped her hands. “No need for excessive courtesy. You guard the mausoleum at Xiaoling, raising deer and feeding phoenixes, cleaning spirit tablets—your hands that once held writing brushes have grown rough from all this work. Such pure and filial behavior is greatly admired by this palace. This palace has come to invite you back to the palace.”