Her name was Murong Jun, with the pet name Wanwan—two names with extreme contrasts placed on the same person. At the time, Consort Xu had strongly opposed this, but Father insisted, so this name was recorded in the jade genealogy.

In ancient times, thirty made one “jun.” Father had three children and hoped all three would be complete. “Jun” symbolizes national governance. Though she was a girl, in Father’s eyes, he never felt she should be like secluded women who only knew their small selves and forgot family and country. Father had said this realm belonged not only to Murong men but also to Murong women. So she had no grounds to refute the Emperor’s words today.

She just felt heartbroken. Only now did she understand that some people acted deliberately while others went with the flow. As for her, she was like a tool—sharp blades on both sides, depending only on who wielded her.

The Prince of Nanyuan had schemed painstakingly to marry her, his intentions still unclear for now. The Emperor wanted her to marry out to drive a steel needle into Nanyuan’s heartland. When the time was ripe, reducing feudal power or even annihilating the Yuwen clan were both possible. It was a good strategy, but unfortunately didn’t consider her situation. In the Emperor’s eyes, it was only natural for a Murong princess to sacrifice personal happiness to preserve the realm.

Wanwan had always greatly admired Father, but only now did she discover that imperial families weren’t so merciful to daughters. When political necessity arose, they should sacrifice themselves. Perhaps previous imperial princesses were just minor affairs, but when it came to her—going to the fief, restraining the Prince of Nanyuan—this was Emperor Mingzhi’s balancing strategy.

She was somewhat dazed, momentarily unable to understand why her seemingly absurd brother possessed such meticulous thinking. His determination to preserve Daye was good, but whether this determination came from sudden whim or deep consideration was unknowable.

She nodded with difficulty: “Since you’ve thought so thoroughly, publicly and privately, I have not half a word of objection. The edict has been proclaimed throughout the realm. When the time comes, I’ll go south. What brother promised me must also be accomplished.”

The Emperor said good: “I have my arrangements. To throw the entire court into chaos for one woman is a great taboo for rulers. Actually, I won’t hide from you—with Consort Duan’s precedent before, elevating her sister again this time would make people call me a foolish ruler who only covets other men’s women. It wouldn’t sound good if word spread. Just rest assured—Yin Ge and the child in her belly will never enter our Murong clan. Though Yuwen Liangshi wrote a divorce letter long ago, she ultimately spent time with him. For absolute certainty, I can only follow the practice of killing firstborns in various regions back then—better to wrongly eliminate than let slip.”

The “killing firstborns” he mentioned was from before Daye’s establishment. During the era of competing warlords, barbarians had briefly ruled the Central Plains. When one race oppressed another without humanity, it was extremely terrifying. For easier management, each village and county was assigned a barbarian family to guard the locality. Those barbarian chieftains had started a trend—all married brides had to surrender their wedding night rights to them. The people were utterly humiliated yet powerless to resist. The only thing they could do was kill the firstborn children to avoid bloodline confusion.

Hearing him say this, Wanwan’s heart suddenly jumped: “What are you planning to do?”

The Emperor’s eyebrows slowly raised as he smiled: “I’m just making a comparison. What kind of person do you take your brother for? This Yin Ge cannot be kept, but throwing her away would be wasteful. I’ll find her a minor official and settle her in the capital, so the child can have a proper origin… I’m not a heartless person after all.”

Hearing this, Wanwan actually felt some sympathy for Yin Ge. After calculating everything, this was her final outcome. Truly, while all words in the world might be believed, men’s sweet talk alone could never be trusted. She couldn’t criticize her own brother too much—after all, Yin Ge came with ulterior motives and brought this upon herself. Now she barely had time to care for herself, let alone worry about others.

“As for the Prince of Nanyuan, what does brother plan to do? Or wait until I reach Jinling for other instructions?”

The Emperor stroked his chin, circling the ground several times: “I haven’t thought of anything yet. In any case, you marry over first.” Then he changed to a more relaxed tone: “Don’t be so suspicious. I’m just taking precautions. After all, once you marry out, he’ll be a prince consort. As long as he behaves properly, for your sake, I won’t do anything to him.”

Wanwan stood up and bowed deeply to him: “Since there are no other orders, I’ll return. The smoke in Your Majesty’s hall is too thick—harmful to the imperial person. Have someone open the windows. Being cooped up too long isn’t good for people.” As she spoke, she withdrew from North Pond Hall.

The endless rain and snow continued without stop. Walking under the vault, even the sky seemed moldy. Wanwan gathered her warm sleeves with a light smile: “Tonghuan, you heard everything?”

Tonghuan had been there throughout and understood everything, not knowing how to comfort her, only sighing softly: “Life is what you make of it. Listen three parts to others’ words, but seven parts must still come from your heart.”

She said melancholically: “When outsiders scheme against me, I can still not take it to heart. But when my own brother does this too, I’m truly heartbroken.” She didn’t want to cry, but tears flowed on their own. Turning her head to wipe them on her shoulder: “I was just thinking how wonderful it would be if I could escape during the marriage journey, let them beat each other’s brains out… But I can’t escape. I’m like the big butterfly Wuqi caught last time, pinned to a pillar with a needle—holes pierced front and back, no strength left.”

Such a difficult situation was beyond many people’s imagination. In worldly eyes, princesses could have whatever they wanted—what more could they lack? But people above others also had their bitterness and helplessness. Even when discovering things going wrong, bound by pride and self-respect, they could only watch helplessly and resign themselves to fate.

The Prince of Nanyuan had returned to Jinling. Every ten days or so, a letter arrived without interruption. Wanwan sat on the warming basket teasing her squirrel. Seeing palace maids present letters before her, she took them and casually threw them into the charcoal brazier, ordering that in future there was no need to report—just dispose of them. So later she didn’t know if there were more messages from the Prince of Nanyuan, but Tonghuan kept track for her—six letters total, with the sixth arriving around her marriage time.

The palace hadn’t had joyful events for a long time. The Emperor’s last accession had been hastily completed after great upheaval, and even if called joyful, it was only in the front court. Wanwan’s marriage was different—personally arranged by Xiao Duo with very high standards, fulfilling the Emperor’s earlier instruction: “Everything must look magnificent.” How much money was spent, she wasn’t clear, only knowing she was caught in a melee. Because the harem lacked an empress, even who would “open the face” for the Grand Princess became a matter of heated dispute among the concubines.

After Empress Zhang was deposed, the highest should now be the Noble Consort, but the Empress Dowager didn’t designate her, instead complaining that “others are clumsy and might hurt the Grand Princess.” Probably knowing Wanwan was close to Yin Luo, this time she didn’t pick on Yin Luo’s origins as a late emperor’s talented lady and specially permitted her to enter Yude Palace—fulfilling their final friendship.

Yin Luo applied rice powder for her, cotton thread twisted into a triangle shape, rolling carefully across her cheeks. She could hear the crisp sound of fine hair breaking.

Yin Luo kept asking: “Does it hurt? If it hurts, I’ll be gentler.”

She was imperial nobility, but could still endure this bit of pain, sitting on the stool saying it was fine. After the rolling was done, her face felt raw, so she buried it in Yin Luo’s lap and wouldn’t get up.

Yin Luo knew she was sad and cried first herself: “Don’t be like this. You can still return after going. When you miss home, send word to Director Xiao to fetch you.”

Wanwan shook her head: “Once I go, I won’t trouble you all. I’m a grown person—I won’t be eaten alive in Nanjing. I just can’t bear leaving you all. After this parting, who knows when we’ll meet again—perhaps never in this lifetime. In the palace, be careful in everything. And Director Xiao… though now at his zenith, throughout history, those who controlled the Eastern Depot never had good endings.” She raised her head with a forced smile: “I hope you’ll all be safe. May we all still be here thirty years from now—then we’ll hold a great feast and have a proper drinking bout.”

Actually, her legs had no strength. She mustered energy twice before standing up. Once standing, she couldn’t lie down again. Gritting her teeth, she had them dress her in the phoenix robe and phoenix crown. Fully prepared, she entered Fengxian Hall to bid farewell to ancestors and take leave of the Emperor and Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager’s eyes brimmed with tears as she adjusted Wanwan’s collar, then her silk scarf, unable to speak.

The Emperor looked at her with guilt, his gaze evasive, somehow not daring to meet her eyes. After a long while, he took the ruyi scepter presented by a eunuch and placed it in her hands: “The auspicious time has come. Don’t delay the hour.”

She left the palace without a prince consort’s escort—more like a royal procession. Upon reaching Jiangnan and entering the Princess Manor, the prince consort would need to kneel in welcome because she represented the entire imperial family. Her wedding was cold and mechanical, lacking any human warmth except for the few tears from palace relatives as meager comfort.

She held the ruyi scepter to her chest. The jade was ice-cold, its dull, cold pain chiseling into her bones without her noticing. The golden palanquin waited outside the Inner Eastern Gate with ceremonial guards arranged in long lines. Tonight’s wind was strong, red silk flying and rustling in mid-air. Taking one last look at this Forbidden City where she’d grown up and bid farewell to parents and eldest brother—ultimately she too must leave. To those remaining, it probably wasn’t much different from death.

Steeling her heart, she withdrew her gaze, mounted the phoenix palanquin, and lowered the curtains. Sealed on all sides, it was like being shut in a small seal box. She could only see the light from palace lanterns at the eaves shining in—a deep layer of water-red spreading across her knee covering.

The imperial procession began moving. Imperial marriages had the custom of not sounding gongs. Imperial Guards had already set up barriers along both sides of the imperial road, so the entire journey was quiet.

Previously, Wanwan’s heart had some turbulence, but after sitting in the palanquin, everything settled. A woman’s lifetime was divided into two stages—the boudoir was the first half, after leaving home was the second half. Her first half was complete. The second half began today—she could manage it well herself, also counting as a new beginning!

Closing her eyes, the pearls and jade in her hair tinkled in her ears. Her head felt heavy, but fearing she’d disturb her makeup, she didn’t dare touch her forehead. The blessing boats for her journey south were moored at Tongzhou Wharf. After traveling a long time, they arrived around midnight. Finally, someone came to lift the curtain. Looking up, she saw the Emperor had personally come to see her off. Though she’d resolved not to cry, at this point she could no longer hold back.

Continuous torches illuminated the massive hull of the blessing boat. The siblings faced each other with tearful eyes on the wharf. The Emperor stammered: “I’ve wronged you…”

What use was saying this now? Better to let go cleanly.

Wanwan curtsied, spread her sleeves, and knelt to kowtow: “Your subject sister bids farewell to Imperial Brother. Before departing, I repeat those same words—please Imperial Brother preserve the dragon body and put the state first in everything. Though your subject sister marries far away, her heart cannot leave the Forbidden City for a moment. Day and night I’ll burn incense and pray for our lord’s longevity without bounds.”

The Emperor quickly bent to help her up: “Your heart encompasses the realm—Imperial Father’s spirit in heaven can see this. Your words of counsel to me, I keep in my heart. Set out with peace of mind!”

Yes, everything in the capital should be released—whether people or matters, those requiring farewell had been bid farewell, those requiring abandonment had been abandoned.

The blessing boat’s gunwale was several zhang high, requiring ladders lowered from above. She’d never traveled by boat before and felt somewhat timid. Xiao Duo escorted her, walking quickly with his arm extended for her support. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she still let him go.

Not knowing how to say farewell, she smiled repeatedly, letting him see she was well. But his complexion was very poor, brows furrowed as he said: “Affairs in the capital are complex—this subject cannot escort you. Your Highness, take great care on the journey. This subject has selected the Eastern Depot’s most elite personnel. Palace Administrator Yu Qixia at the Princess Manor is also someone this subject trusts most. All future matters will be handled by him and Tonghuan. Your Highness need only be assured.”

Wanwan said good: “Each treasure ourselves.”

A eunuch in vermillion court robes bowed and came to assist. Through a silk handkerchief, she placed her hand on his wrist. Without looking back again, she was thus separated from the capital region by the ends of the earth.