Suiyu Spring cascades down through mountain crevices, gathering into a deep pool halfway up the mountain. It then passes through carved stone dragon heads, flowing gently level by level through the imperial palace. In the valley east of the palace, verdant forests are scattered here and there, encircling the various princely residences throughout. Yuli Palace sits at the very eastern edge of the valley; standing at the palace’s edge, one can see the winding silhouette of Yuxiang Mountain stretching into the distance. Beside Yuli Palace, Suiyu Spring forms a small lake before flowing out beyond the palace walls.
Under the moonlight, the lake shimmered with glimmering light. Zili stood tall and elegant, gazing at it for a long while, then took out his jade xiao and played a tune, “Xiaoxiang Zi.” The sound of the xiao was mournful and lingering, full of melancholy longing; palace attendants hidden in the shadows gazed from afar at their Fourth Prince, and the sobbing notes of the xiao and his solitary silhouette moved them to tears without their meaning to — none knew how to bring joy to this graceful, romantic Fourth Prince.
The tone of the xiao suddenly shifted, surging skyward like towering waves; the force pressed down upon the lake until the moonlight scattered across the rippling water, a whole pool of clear ripples shattering apart in turbulent agitation, as though expressing something both conflicted and resolute, impossible to fully convey.
Zili slowly stopped. He looked at the jade xiao in his hand — the clear jade, translucent blue-green, bore mottled traces of blood-red. When his mother had been dying, she’d wanted to play one more tune, but partway through she had coughed up blood and breathed her last. Zili lifted the xiao to his nose and inhaled gently, as though he could still catch a trace of his mother’s gentle warmth. Until that day when, poring over the musical scores his mother had left behind, he’d discovered with horror that the latter half of that final piece wasn’t actually a melody at all. He’d softly hummed along with the notes and realized what the pitches actually spelled out: “Poison has already reached the heart.” He had been only eleven years old that year.
Two years later, Consort Wang was elevated to preside over the central palace; a year after that, the court ministers petitioned, and his elder brother was made Crown Prince. He still remembered as a child, his father teasing him alongside his mother, asking: “Would Fei’er like to grow up to be king?” He had only answered coquettishly: “I just want to stay with Father and Mother.” After his elder brother was made Crown Prince, Prince Ning had grown distant from him, yet the way he looked at him remained as warm as ever. He was the prince Prince Ning had doted on since childhood, yet not the one Prince Ning had chosen as heir. He understood in his heart that his father was protecting him in his own way. So he had become ever more deferential toward the Crown Prince — from that year on, he had never once defied a single word the Crown Prince spoke.
Sorrow colored Zili’s eyes. A’Luo — the moment he’d spoken of breaking her finger with his own hands, she must have already resolved to seek her freedom. The moment Liu Jue had been willing to risk defying the Crown Prince’s order to pull her away, his hand and hers had already been forced apart, never to clasp together again, perhaps.
What was freedom? What freedom did A’Luo seek? And what freedom did he himself seek? Zili felt that A’Luo still didn’t understand — in this world, unless one stood at the very pinnacle of power, holding the power of life and death in one’s own hands, only then could one act entirely according to one’s own will — only then would that be true freedom!
The sorrow in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a growing resolve between his brows; his posture relaxed, blending completely into the night. The turbulent thoughts that had surged like violent waves through his mind, sometimes crashing furiously against the cliffs, sometimes trickling in gentle streams, at last found their way back to the sea. Calm and still, vast waves hidden deep beneath the surface, waiting only for the wind to rise before roaring forth to shatter whatever target they set their sights upon.
His personal guards, standing not far off, finally relaxed slightly. Their lord no longer wavered in hesitation; the powerful confidence radiating from his entire being surged forth with an overwhelming sense of security. Beneath his commanding gaze, all things seemed to submit.
Zili clasped his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance at Yuxiang Mountain’s hazy silhouette beneath the moonlight, steady as a mountain peak itself. Above the summit, a bluish-green glow began to rise; before long, a crimson sun would leap into view. He said calmly: “The wedding draws near — this king will go pay respects at the Left Chancellor’s residence.”
The guard responded in a low voice: “The gifts have already been prepared — would my lord like to inspect them?”
Zili’s face bore a faint smile: “No need.”
A’Luo was just about to head out to arrange the house she was purchasing when word suddenly arrived that the Crown Prince had sent gifts. Reluctantly, she had to go to the main hall with the Seventh Madam. Chancellor Li’s wives all watched her with smiling faces. Chancellor Li said with a laugh: “Who would have thought the Crown Prince and Crown Princess would be so fond of A’Luo — I hear the gifts were personally selected by the Crown Princess herself. A’Luo, when you have time, you should visit your elder sister at the Eastern Palace more often.”
A’Luo kept smiling throughout and replied: “A’Luo understands — sister and I are family after all.”
Fourth Madam pulled Qingfei close, looking ashamed: “A’Luo, your second sister speaks bluntly and without thinking — don’t hold it against her for what happened.”
A’Luo smiled: “Father has always said, we rise and fall together as one family. We’re all one family — how could A’Luo hold it against her? Second sister has her own difficulties, elder sister has her own hardships — how could A’Luo possibly blame either of you?”
Qingfei’s tears fell: “A’Luo, that you don’t resent me is the best outcome possible — otherwise, second sister would be devastated.”
Chancellor Li laughed heartily: “Good, good, good. Seeing you sisters set aside your past grievances truly brings this father boundless joy. Lately there’s been a steady stream of happy occasions in both the court and the household. The Fourth Prince is marrying Chancellor Gu’s daughter, A’Fei will be marrying into the Cheng family next month. And then there’s A’Luo.” Chancellor Li paused deliberately, both his face and his eyes betraying a look of smug satisfaction.
A’Luo’s heart jumped in alarm, fearing that Zili was proposing to take her in as a concubine. Chancellor Li continued: “The young lord of Prince Anqing’s household has sent someone to formally propose marriage.”
The words struck like a bolt from the blue sky. A’Luo nearly lost her footing. She stammered: “A’Luo isn’t even fourteen for another two months — and, and elder sister only just married, second sister, second sister is also about to marry — the household will feel so empty, A’Luo can’t bear to leave.”
The Seventh Madam stood beside A’Luo, steadying her shoulder with a hand, and said with a smile: “That’s right — if A’Luo leaves too, the household will feel so empty. My lord, please keep A’Luo with us a little longer.”
Chancellor Li said with a hearty laugh: “How can you say such a thing? As parents, one must always think of what’s best for one’s children. The young lord is someone countless daughters of prominent families would love to have — his family background and talent are among the very finest. This proposal was made with sincere and earnest intent, and he doesn’t even mind that A’Luo is concubine-born, wishing to take her as his primary wife. I’ve already agreed — we’ll settle the engagement now, and she’ll marry once she comes of age.”
The Seventh Madam’s face showed clear reluctance, and she was about to speak up to try to buy more time when Chancellor Li’s expression turned stern: “I’ve already decided. There’s no need to say anything more.”
A calculating, sharp gleam flashed in Chancellor Li’s eyes: “You should understand — Prince Ning’s health is already failing, and the Crown Prince’s ascension to the throne is only a matter of two or three years away. Grand Marshal Wang commands the entirety of Ningguo’s armed forces, but the most elite right-flank troops remain under Prince Anqing’s control. For A’Luo to marry into Prince Anqing’s household as the young princess consort is her good fortune, and it also gives the Li family the strength we’ll need to stand against the Wang family in the future. The young lord’s proposal shows he thinks highly of the Li family. From now on, the three of you together will form a united front, and only then can the Li family’s wealth and power be preserved.”
A’Luo forced a smile onto her face. Chancellor Li’s voice was gentle, yet brooked no refusal: “A’Luo, now that the engagement is settled, it’s fine for the young lord to come visit the residence himself, but you’d best avoid going out as much as possible. Stay home and do needlework with a few of your aunts. A year will pass quickly enough.”
Several of the wives smilingly agreed: “Don’t worry, my lord — we’ll take turns keeping A’Luo company from now on. We’ll finish A’Fei’s dowry first, then start on A’Luo’s — the days won’t feel boring at all.”
A’Luo’s heart cried out in distress again and again. She lowered her head, putting on a show of shy embarrassment.
Back at Tangyuan Garden, before A’Luo could even speak, the Seventh Madam asked: “Third child, what is this young lord from Prince Anqing’s household actually like?”
A’Luo thought for a long moment before answering: “Actually, just as Father said — his family background is distinguished, he’s handsome and remarkable, one of the Five Young Masters of Fengcheng, and he’s won the admiration of quite a few young ladies. He has the arrogance typical of noble sons, but his heart is genuinely good. He’s a decent person — he was even willing to defy the Crown Prince’s order to save me. I’m truly grateful to him.”
The Seventh Madam asked: “If his feelings for you are genuine, wouldn’t it actually be a good thing to marry him? And he’s even willing to take you as his primary wife.”
Indeed — thinking back, Liu Jue had actually been quite good to her from the moment they’d first met until now, occasionally throwing the odd tantrum. Recalling how she’d met him last spring up until now, A’Luo couldn’t help but smile. If being with Zili felt warm, then being with Liu Jue was rather more fun and lighthearted. A’Luo hugged the Seventh Madam close, wanting especially to breathe in that sweet, soft scent from her embrace — it had been eight years already, and this scent still hadn’t changed at all; the Seventh Madam was still just as beautiful. A’Luo compared their heights against each other with a laugh: “I’m right in the middle of a growth spurt — look, I’m almost as tall as my beautiful mother now. Walking out together, we’d look like a pair of sisters.”
The Seventh Madam said reproachfully: “Mother is trying to discuss something serious with you.”
A’Luo said with a smile: “He’s a good person, but — I’ve thought about it for a long while and still don’t know my own heart. Thinking about marrying at fifteen, no matter how mature my mind might be, it still feels wrong somehow. Besides, I really do want to leave. Every time I think of Father’s smug face, it just makes me uncomfortable — I don’t want to let him have his way!”
The Seventh Madam sighed: “A’Luo, it seems the most that can be managed is for you to take Xiao Yu and go. Mother is getting on in years — going with you would only slow you down, and by the time we set out, I might not even be able to make the journey at all.”
A’Luo flatly refused: “I won’t leave you here on your own. If I leave, that father of mine will take it out on you, and there’s no telling what suffering you’d endure. In this world, you’re the person dearest and closest to me. If we’re leaving, we’re leaving together. I’ve thought it through — we’ll leave when Qingfei gets married. The residence will be busy hosting guests then, and no one will be paying attention to us.”
The Seventh Madam looked at A’Luo: “How far could we possibly get?”
A’Luo smiled brightly: “I’ll figure out a way.”
The Seventh Madam sighed: “Three people leaving all at once — won’t that draw too much attention?”
A’Luo laughed: “You’ve forgotten we can climb over the wall? I’ve already scouted out the route — at the very least, we can slip away from the residence without anyone noticing.”