How pitiful are parents’ hearts! Once a son married but wasn’t close to his wife, especially when that wife was of such noble birth—if there was no peacemaker to mediate between them and they grew distant from the start, it would be difficult to become intimate later.

The Dowager Consort had worried herself sick her whole life. The Yuwen men were all capable of great deeds, masterful in political affairs, but when it came to domestic life, they were somewhat lacking in some areas. For instance, stubbornly pursuing one path to the end—this was a bad habit. She naturally knew her son well. Over the years, many people had tried to curry favor with the Prince Nanyuan’s mansion—why had he never mentioned establishing a legitimate wife? Weren’t Jiangnan beauties lovely? Weren’t their temperaments gentle? Of course they were! He had someone in his heart. Though he never spoke of it, he kept that position reserved. If he couldn’t have his wish fulfilled in this lifetime, he would wait a lifetime.

Among all the women in this world, once one entered their eyes, why worry about some beloved concubine suddenly appearing who could stand as an equal? She had once spoken to him privately that those few in his rooms should also be treated well—after all, they had continued his bloodline for him. He had agreed readily, saying “certainly, certainly” very loudly. But later, checking the records, once the two sons were born, it was as if his mission was accomplished—there had been no further activity whatsoever.

Until one day he came to find her, standing beside her serving with towels and basin for a long time before slowly saying: “Son has something I’d like Mother’s guidance on.”

What could he possibly want? It was nothing more than the court changing some new tricks to extort Nanyuan’s money and grain. If not that, then demanding a piece of territory to subsidize other provinces. At worst, it would be reducing feudal power—they had been preparing for this for fifty or sixty years, so it wasn’t anything new.

She hadn’t taken it seriously then, and after washing her hands said: “Speak up. What great storms and waves haven’t I seen?”

Only then did he smile: “Son wants to marry Grand Princess Hede as wife. I’ve come to inform Mother first to see what you think.”

She didn’t react for a long time: “Being able to welcome a Grand Princess’s descent is a good thing—for at least the next ten years we won’t need to worry about the mansion’s situation. But the Yuwen family has never had such good fortune, and the court also fears us. This matter might not be easy to arrange.”

But he spoke lightly: “Mother, just wait for my good news. In another half year, I’ll definitely give you an explanation.”

Indeed, half year later, Prince Nanyuan’s mansion received the imperial edict for the Grand Princess’s descent.

She didn’t want to inquire about the process—it must have involved countless turns and endless scheming. She only knew he did what he said he would do, and Grand Princess Hede had indeed entered the Yuwen family’s doors. Initially, she had also feared this imperial sister would be arrogant and difficult to serve. He had praised her endlessly, describing her as if she were made of gold: “Mother, just watch—you’ll definitely like her when you meet her.”

The result was indeed likable. A person’s character could be seen through one conversation. So far, she at least knew the Grand Princess was kind, and even had no prejudice toward children born to concubines. For someone of imperial birth to have such a tolerant spirit was remarkable. The Dowager Consort was happy to see family harmony—no need to sacrifice two grandsons to keep one princess daughter-in-law. It was truly satisfying to everyone.

But the princess clearly didn’t have such feelings for Liang Shi. Yesterday’s wedding night wasn’t consummated—she had found this out as soon as she arrived here. Actually, there was no rush. The Grand Princess was only sixteen, still young. Having suddenly arrived in a strange place and meeting all strangers, feeling resistant was perfectly normal. Take it slowly—over time, knowing how much her husband loved her, even stone could be warmed up.

The Dowager Consort was full of confidence about the future, but Wanwan was in a difficult position. The children coming for morning and evening greetings was proper—she couldn’t say anything about that. But Yuwen Liang Shi joining in the excitement wasn’t quite appropriate.

She hesitated, then still tried to politely decline: “Your Majesty is busy with political affairs, so there’s no need to come every day. The two young masters still need to study—traveling back and forth like this, I fear they’ll be too tired. Perhaps seeing me on the first and fifteenth of each month would show their thoughtfulness.”

The Dowager Consort pressed her hand: “Propriety cannot be abandoned. Children seeking comfort and forgetting their duties as human beings! I was thinking, if Your Highness would honor us, you might as well move to the princely mansion. Though it’s not according to protocol, many princesses and clan daughters gradually stop caring about such things. After all, it’s best for young couples to be together often. If lifelong pillow companions remain distant, how can they get along for decades? You needn’t be embarrassed either—rules must bend to accommodate people to be comfortable.”

Hearing this, compared to moving to the princely mansion, having the father and son visit frequently didn’t seem like such a big deal. Wanwan didn’t like to be difficult about small matters—since it was like this, she’d go with the original plan!

A maid came forward to serve tea. When reaching Tala Shi, she intercepted it midway and carefully stepped forward to serve: “This servant has never studied much and usually lacks confidence when teaching the young master. Now that Your Highness has come, if the young master has any deficiencies in the future, we’ll rely entirely on Your Highness. Don’t look at his mischievous appearance—this child is very obedient. If Your Highness doesn’t mind, please treat him as your own son—it would be this servant’s and the young master’s good fortune.”

These words were very humble, but also somewhat superfluous. According to custom, once there was a legitimate wife, children born to concubines naturally came under the legitimate wife’s name. When introduced to others, they would only acknowledge the legitimate wife as mother—concubines generally wouldn’t even be mentioned. Tala Shi hastily pushing her child forward had quite the meaning of currying favor, also securing an advantage for her son. After all, both young masters were born to concubines—whoever the Grand Princess favored more would have a more secure future.

Wanwan was very perceptive and understood her meaning. Lan Ting and Zhou Shi were quite in sync—mother and son exchanged glances and quietly stuck out their tongues.

Lan Zhou said nothing, his brow slightly furrowing before quickly returning to calm composure. Wanwan saw everything, only deepening her smile. She didn’t respond to Tala Shi’s words and reported to the Dowager Consort: “Earlier I discussed with His Majesty about going to the family temple to pay respects to our ancestors. Mother, when would be appropriate?”

The Dowager Consort was very pleased to hear this: “Your Highness is truly thoughtful—the late king’s spirit in heaven would be comforted. I’ll immediately order people to arrange everything. Since we’re paying respects, sooner is better than later.”

Over there, Yuwen Liang Shi stood up: “Mother, don’t trouble yourself—I’ve already ordered people to handle it. Your Highness will be accompanied by me, and Zhou Shi and the others can escort you back to the mansion first. Later, if Your Highness is willing…” He looked at her meaningfully, “After the ritual, please have Your Highness visit the mansion—after all, it’s your own home, and there’s no reason not to enter one’s own door.”

The Dowager Consort said good—creating space for them to be alone together was what she most desired. She stood up with a smile: “It’s settled then. We’ll return to the mansion to prepare and await Grand Princess Your Highness’s gracious arrival.”

Zhou Shi and Chen Shi helped her over the threshold. Tala Shi, with the two children, requested leave from Wanwan and also withdrew outside the door, following the Dowager Consort.

Only then did Wanwan breathe freely. Dealing with these people was more exhausting than handling the Empress Dowager and concubines in the palace. In the palace, she was never the focus—staying on the sidelines listening, present or not. But here was different—a proper princess consort, the legitimate mother of the bastard sons. The identity change was too fast and sudden—she couldn’t help feeling anxious.

She touched her forehead. On her snow-white finger was an agate ring—the deep, rich color contrasted with her delicate jade-like quality. She wasn’t quite pleased and sighed: “I still need to change clothes. Please wait a moment, Your Majesty.”

Meeting people and ritual worship were different. Entering the family temple in bright red and purple would be extremely disrespectful, so she had to go back and change into ceremonial robes, cleanse her face and hands before entering the ancestral hall.

She complained to Tonghuan: “I’m tired and really want to rest.”

Tonghuan heard this and teased: “Who told you to curry favor with the Dowager Consort? This could have been avoided, but you insisted on doing it yourself, and now you’re complaining to me?” While arranging the tassels on her chest, she asked softly: “Your Highness still has some feelings for Prince Nanyuan, doesn’t she? I see you considering everything for him—this time again fearing to lose face for him, which is why you said you’d worship the old prince. Also, things have reached this point and become a foregone conclusion. Being angry serves no purpose—living well and enjoying yourself is what matters.”

Wanwan frowned deeply listening to this: “What nonsense are you saying? When have I ever had feelings for him? I’m doing this for the court too. Since we’ve formed a marriage alliance, pacifying both sides is better than stirring up trouble on both ends.” Worry showed faintly in her brow as she murmured: “Daye cannot withstand turmoil. For over two hundred years, civil and military officials have grown accustomed to comfort. If something goes wrong now, I fear they might not even be able to find their swords.”

How could Tonghuan not know? She was just joking with her, trying to get her to reveal her thoughts. It seemed her mind couldn’t be changed—even if she had children with Prince Nanyuan in the future, her responsibility to the country would still outweigh everything else. Whether it was good or bad for a woman to be so strong-willed was unclear.

After finishing preparations and leaving the mansion gate, a sedan chair was already waiting outside—beautifully carved with openwork patterns, faintly revealing golden satin inside. He was considerate and attentive to her, truly as the old Dowager Consort said—the Yuwen family had the tradition of serving their wives. He lifted the curtain for her and helped her into the sedan without any oversight. Wanwan watched that distinctly jointed hand slowly fall away as the door curtain concealed her view. She sat peacefully for a while, then soon secretly lifted the window curtain to look outside. Jiangnan was distinctive—the magnificence and vicissitudes of the capital still couldn’t compare to the cleverness and elegance here in her eyes.

Spring weather was changeable. Last night when arriving at Taoye Ferry, remaining cold air still penetrated through clothing. Daytime was better—with gentle sunlight and clear sky, a slight breeze made her drowsy.

The sedan suddenly jolted, startling her awake. Someone came to help her down—the face appearing behind the curtain was still his.

He always appeared good-tempered, extending his hand with palm devoutly upward, saying nothing, his eyes full of hope.

Wanwan remembered that time under the jujube tree at the white pagoda when he had also held her hand. Her heart had overflowed with sweetness then, but today it had become like this. Outside, voices bustled—presumably quite a few people had come to accompany the ritual. The Yuwen clan had dominated Jiangnan for so many years, having grown vast and complex, so here she still had to continue pretending. Not just this time—it would always be like this in the future. Perhaps by pretending long enough, she would gradually get used to it.

She placed her hand in his palm. She was somewhat cool, but he was very warm, treasuring her and wrapping her tightly. She had wanted to make herself appear more mature, but unexpectedly blushed instantly. After all, she was an inexperienced girl—her face really wasn’t as thick as his. When he smiled gently, she became even more embarrassed. But the more embarrassed she was, the more she had to hold her head high, so she looked rather foolish.

There were indeed many people outside. Even with guards setting up barriers, countless heads were still peering from every low spot around the perimeter. Wanwan walked very carefully, her feelings quite vivid. His hand, probably from years of drawing bows and riding horses, had thin calluses at the finger roots—strong and powerful. She couldn’t help wondering—feudal princes weren’t allowed to station troops, so even with daily bow and horse practice, it shouldn’t cause such wear.

Lost in random thoughts, she entered the ancestral hall. On the long table directly facing the main door, dozens of spirit tablets were arranged from top to bottom. On the walls hung a row of portraits of successive Prince Nanyuans, each holding jade tablets and wearing four-clawed python dragon robes. The painter’s skill was remarkable—the portraits were lifelike. Looking at them one by one, none of the Yuwen ancestors was anything less than dignified and imposing. Thinking back to when people insisted the Nanyuan barbarians were monsters—that was truly talking nonsense.

The steward guided them to pour libation wine, perform courtesies, and offer incense. Wanwan respectfully followed instructions. Previously, she had only worshipped Murong clan ancestors in Fengxian Hall. Now entering someone else’s family temple and worshipping someone else’s ancestors, she had truly become part of their family.

She sighed deeply, not knowing where the melancholy came from. Before entering the ancestral hall, all her people waited outside—only he was beside her. He helped her insert incense into the burner, helped her clear away the libation cups. A perfectly good prince, but quite skilled at serving people.

Standing before the portraits for a while, watching incense smoke gradually curl up and fill the entire room. When about to leave, she suddenly heard him say: “Each generation of ancestors had moving stories. Commanding the winds and clouds in life, returning to dust in death—in the future, we too will be here. Beside me, only your position exists.”

Wanwan looked at him strangely: “Why bring this up?”

His eyes held shadows as he glanced at her slightly, mumbling with an aggrieved tone: “After receiving the marriage edict, I was only happy in my heart and didn’t consider Your Highness’s feelings. Your Highness blames me—I dare not defend myself. Today, having come to the ancestral hall, I swear before our ancestors that though marrying a princess is great honor, for me, Your Highness is the greatest gift. If you trust me, I still have reason to live. If you don’t trust me, even if I’m alive, I’m no different from a walking corpse.”

She was startled and looked around: “What is this place? Your Majesty speaks without restraint—how can you let the ancestors hear this? Whatever you want to say, can’t you say it back home? But you choose here!”

Expressing love before ancestral tablets—truly the first person since the beginning of time. Wanwan felt he appeared steady but sometimes wasn’t so reliable. She couldn’t say much more and just felt extremely awkward, as if those people in the portraits were alive and all beginning to laugh at her.

As for him, one doesn’t lie before ancestors—since he could express determination, he had given an account to the ancestors.

Wanwan awkwardly walked out of the ancestral hall and sat in the sedan without saying a word. On the way to Prince Nanyuan’s mansion, her cheeks still faintly burned—probably from the burning paper money, and her heart was also unsettled.

Regardless, the mansion’s reception was still very grand. The Dowager Consort had long prepared a new courtyard for them, standing in the corridor pointing north: “They’re digging a lake there—construction began after New Year. After three months of digging, it’s finally almost ready. Liang Shi knew Your Highness loves lotus flowers, so he sent people to Suzhou and Hangzhou to get various root stems for planting. By summer, you’ll see green leaves stretching to the sky. For a man to be so thoughtful is rare—Your Highness should see his heart and appreciate his feelings.”

She still smiled faintly without answering. The problems between them weren’t just about that incident with Yin Ge—later the Emperor’s instructions were added in. Whether the Emperor was serious or not was beside the point—how could she treat it as a joke!

She was accompanied by the female relatives, strolling slowly through the garden while he stood not far away with hands behind his back, watching. Footsteps came from behind. He turned to look, and Lan Zhou came forward, hanging his hands and calling “Father”—

“The sea-going ships in the shipyard have all been built according to Father’s instructions. Rongyuan reported that testing the ships’ draft showed about seven or eight feet—more nimble than patrol boats. They’ve all been moored at Xinjiang mouth now. If superiors inquire, they’re all reported under naval command—even if they want to investigate, there’s no way to check.”

He nodded slightly and stroked the boy’s top-knot: “Good son, well done. I ask you—how many weapons can they carry?”

The small person looked up: “Four thousand-pound Frankish cannons, three bowl-mouth guns, fifty fire tubes, plus one hundred each of smoke canisters and crossbow arrows. Each ship carries sixty crew—depending on Father’s wishes, if sailors and soldiers aren’t enough, more can be added. Once war begins, sea-going ships coordinating with blessing ships will make us invincible.”

Everything was developing in a good direction. He squinted: “Xiao Duo is now too busy protecting himself. With naval inspections, he has no time to spare—how much military supplies we accumulate is entirely up to us.” Looking down at him: “When success comes, Father will avenge you by capturing that Xiao Duo and letting you cut his flesh daily for fun.”

Like father, like son—who could imagine an eight-year-old child had already become his right-hand man? This child had rare talent, fearing neither heaven nor earth—only that Xiao Duo had frightened him into over a month of sleepless nights. Initially, they had tried to win over the Eastern Depot. When Xiao Duo refused to submit, Lan Zhou suggested poisoning the accompanying Consort Duan to force him into conflict with the Emperor. Unfortunately, man’s plans couldn’t match heaven’s—Consort Duan was lucky and didn’t die, and Xiao Duo’s Eastern Depot agents caught Lan Zhou, nearly pulling out his spine. Since then, Lan Zhou both hated and feared Xiao Duo. When he was disobedient, this father had actually used Xiao Duo to threaten him—thinking about it was both shameful and amusing.

Mentioning cutting Xiao Duo’s flesh immediately made Lan Zhou’s eyes shine with excitement: “It’s agreed then—when we break through the Forbidden City, hand him over to your son for disposal.”

Liang Shi nodded: “A promise.”

“Then when do we march north?”

But he hesitated, his gaze reaching into the distance as he pursed his lips: “Your father just married a wife and hasn’t enjoyed good days yet.”

Lan Zhou frowned: “Is Father becoming attached to wife, children, and warm beds? Don’t let romantic entanglements delay important matters—the servants below are all watching you.”

He became impatient: “Later. Affairs are complex—once we don’t move, we don’t move, but once we move, we’ll shake heaven and earth. Acting rashly without complete preparation will only lead to utter defeat. If you’re bored, go read more military strategy. And the Hunan Provincial Administration matter—I’m also giving that to you to handle. Good or bad, you handle it for Father.”

The father falling into love actually lost all fighting spirit. The son couldn’t help shaking his head—truly a hero’s shortness of breath. Just a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl—where was the value in this!