After the coronation ceremony, Zili had already moved into Jade Dragon Palace. Gu Tianlin moved into Jade Phoenix Palace.
The harem system of Ning Kingdom stipulated one Empress, three Noble Consorts, and five Consorts, following the number nine, with eighty-one Beauties beneath them. Zili currently had only an Empress; with the harem otherwise empty, the Ministry of the Interior had already begun arranging the selection of consorts.
Zili had settled A’Luo in Jade Splendor Hall, beside Jade Dragon Palace. Gu Tianlin already knew of this. She was proud and strong-willed by nature; having married Zili, she had also come to admire his talent and elegance. Through three years of Zili’s coldness she had endured, earning in return his guilt and courteous regard. She was wise enough to know that if she showed jealousy, Zili would only grow more distant.
A maidservant close to her could not help but complain: “My lady is too good-natured. That nameless person, even though she’s the Chancellor’s third daughter, living in Jade Splendor Hall — what is that supposed to mean? And I heard the Prince of Pingnan broke off the engagement with her too.”
Gu Tianlin’s face darkened: “Since when do you servants get to gossip about His Majesty’s affairs? Let me hear so much as one more word about the Chancellor’s third daughter in this palace, and you’ll be beaten to death on the spot!”
The attendants all knelt at once: “My lady, please calm your anger, your servants would not dare!”
Gu Tianlin herself found it strange too. Ten days had passed since the coronation, and Li Qingluo still lived in Jade Splendor Hall with no title or status whatsoever, and Zili had ordered that no one be allowed near there. The Prince of Pingnan had, out of nowhere, broken off the engagement. Chancellor Li had tactfully inquired several times, but Zili never gave a direct answer, and the Chancellor dared not press further. He had secretly asked around, even reaching out to his own father through connections. She herself was just as much in the dark.
That day, Gu Tianlin took her attendants to Jade Dragon Palace. The Ministry of the Interior worked quickly — in this short time they had already sent over the register of candidates for consort selection. She flipped through it; not a single pair of eyes matched Qingluo’s, and she felt reassured. She smiled and took the register to see Zili.
She remembered Zili had once praised her in her sky-blue gauze skirt. Today she had specially chosen an equally refreshing green gauze silk. As she left the palace, her attendant praised her: “My lady truly has jade-like skin, like a fairy descended from heaven.” She smiled faintly, involuntarily recalling how on their wedding night Zili had said she was like a figure carved from ice and jade.
She walked softly into the hall. Zili was reading memorials. Gu Tianlin bowed gracefully: “This concubine disturbs Your Majesty.”
“Rise. What brings the Empress here?” Zili glanced at her and asked flatly.
Gu Tianlin stepped forward slowly, taking the consort selection register from her attendant’s hands and presenting it: “The Ministry of the Interior has completed the register of palace consorts. Your Majesty’s harem stands empty, and this concubine finds it rather lonely being alone in the back palace. Please take a look, Your Majesty, and see if there’s anyone who catches your eye.”
Zili looked at Gu Tianlin with interest, a smile spreading across his face: “Why would so many people be willing to enter the palace as my consorts?”
“Your Majesty is so handsome and refined — back in the day you were one of the Five Young Masters of Wind City. Few could remain unmoved,” Gu Tianlin teased.
She could even make jokes now? Zili looked at Gu Tianlin with a half-smile. Truly worthy of being called one of Wind City’s Twin Perfections — unmatched skill at the qin, beautiful, and clever too. Remarkable that she hadn’t uttered a single complaint through three years of his coldness. “Very well, let me see.”
Zili casually flipped through the register; each page came with a small portrait. Some were plump, some slender, some coy, some innocent and lovely — all manner of appearances, each in the full bloom of youth.
Gu Tianlin’s expression betrayed nothing, though her gaze remained fixed on Zili’s every movement out of the corner of her eye.
In only a moment, Zili had already flipped through the entire register, and casually handed it back: “The Empress may decide on my behalf — choose a few with good temperaments to keep.”
His response was exactly as she had expected; she agreed verbally, but did not leave.
“Does the Empress have other matters?” Zili thought to himself — finally, she can’t help but ask about A’Luo.
“Your Majesty, Chancellor Li has been asking connections all the way to me about this — what do you think…” Gu Tianlin tossed the matter straight onto Chancellor Li’s shoulders.
Chancellor Li? Hmph, as if you yourself don’t want to know? Doesn’t everyone in this harem want to know? Zili sneered inwardly, though his gaze remained gentle as water: “The Empress, tell me your idea — what should be done?”
Gu Tianlin was startled — how could the decision possibly be hers to make? A thought struck her: “This concubine will go speak with her.”
Zili stared at her, then suddenly smiled: “Good, go take a look then.”
A’Luo woke to find herself confined under house arrest in Jade Splendor Hall. The room was never without people. Even at night, a maid slept beneath her bed. She ate and drank well, striving to recover her strength. In just a few days she had fully regained her vitality.
The maids deliberately let slip news they wanted her to hear. The Prince of Pingnan had rudely broken off the engagement; Chancellor Li, furious, had fallen ill at home, but upon hearing she was in the palace, had suddenly recovered. It was said that recently, to celebrate the new king’s coronation, a Flower Queen competition had been held along the Duning River, and the Prince of Pingnan and Attendant Cheng had nearly come to blows competing for the title. It was said that Prince Anqing was busy arranging matches for the Prince of Pingnan on all sides…
A’Luo listened as though hearing nothing at all. She looked out the window; April’s spring was in full bloom. Along the Duning River, was it? She thought of teasing Liu Jue on the pleasure boat while he taught her to play the qin, and couldn’t help but laugh. She rather doubted Liu Jue’s intelligence — why would he resort to such petty jealousy games? Would that old fox really rush to arrange a match for him? This whole thing had to be a performance, put on for Zili, put on for herself, right? Was her life really that important to them?
Having someone take her life so seriously truly moved her. She was afraid of dying too — if someone could tell her that dying now would send her back to modern times, she’d go right now, hanging, jumping off a wall, slitting her wrists, no problem at all. But there was no such guarantee.
A’Luo sat idly by the window in a daze, replaying little by little her memories with Liu Jue — that simple happiness. She could well imagine how difficult it must have been for Liu Jue to send her into the palace, to beg Zili to save her — he must have been in unbearable pain. To make herself live, she had to be given to Zili as consort — given how deep his feelings ran for her, A’Luo sighed. Truly, how hard this must have been for him.
She had now lived here for ten days. Zili knew she had martial skill, so those guarding the hall were all elite among the imperial guards, standing outside like statues — you could poke them and they wouldn’t budge. There was simply no way to escape. Even if she managed to get out of this hall, there were still layers of guards and towering palace walls beyond.
She thought of that night, recalling in detail what Zili had said. This time, he truly wasn’t letting go — would he rather imprison her for life than release her?
In the ten days, Zili had come twice. She had turned her back and ignored him; Zili had sighed and left, and hadn’t come again since. A’Luo, with no one to vent her frustration on, took to smashing things for entertainment — throwing something and cursing someone each time, refusing to stop until Jade Splendor Hall was smashed to pieces, treating it as though it were martial arts practice. Zili didn’t show his face at all — whatever she broke was simply replaced, and he let her carry on.
Just then, she heard an attendant announce: “The Empress has arrived!”
Oh, so Gu Tianlin had come to join in the fun too? What was she here for? A’Luo grew curious.
“Qingluo, are you well?” Gu Tianlin dismissed her attendants and walked elegantly to the window.
A’Luo lay sprawled at the table, not even turning her head: “You can see for yourself, can’t I be well? Go on, is it that you were curious and wanted to come take a look, or did he send you to deliver some message?”
Gu Tianlin smiled, unbothered by A’Luo’s attitude: “I was curious. I can’t figure out what’s really going on. Your father, Chancellor Li, is also quite worried.”
Chancellor Li? What was he worried about? Liu Jue had gone and broken off the engagement, and now it seemed Zili hadn’t given her any formal title either — he was probably worried about losing out on both ends, unable to sell her off for good value! A’Luo sneered inwardly. She had no intention of telling Gu Tianlin about the affairs between the three of them.
Seeing A’Luo stay silent, Gu Tianlin continued: “You should know, I originally liked you. And yet, jealousy is a woman’s nature — when I heard you were betrothed to the Prince of Pingnan, I was quite pleased. Now he’s broken off the engagement, and His Majesty insists on keeping you here — looking at how Jade Splendor Hall is arranged, isn’t this house arrest?”
A’Luo turned to look at her directly: “Set aside your curiosity, Tianlin. I don’t dislike you, and I don’t want to dislike you either. I know what’s on your mind. I have no intention whatsoever of staying here — rather than probing my feelings, you’d be better off putting your effort into winning Zili’s heart.”
“Why? Didn’t you say you liked him?” Gu Tianlin looked puzzled.
A’Luo found this both amusing and exasperating: “That was to fool the Crown Prince back then — there was never any truth to it. I told you from the start, Zili — I only ever thought of him as an elder brother.”
Gu Tianlin suddenly understood, and a stone lifted from her heart; the concern in her tone became genuine: “But His Majesty, he…”
A’Luo lowered her head: “He probably just feels unbalanced. After all, I knew him first.”
“A’Luo, I don’t think that’s it at all. I’ve heard that he’s had a habit at the border city — sending cabbage a thousand li every single day. Drinking cabbage soup for three years, doesn’t that have something to do with you?”
Boiled cabbage soup? A’Luo was astonished. Three years of it? For a moment she didn’t know what to say. Zili, why would you do such a thing! Three years, gazing at a portrait for three years — I never thought I had that kind of power over anyone. I never treated you especially well either — how, how could I ever repay you for this!
Gu Tianlin, watching A’Luo’s face grow suddenly downcast, sighed: “His Majesty is handsome and dashing, and the King of Ning besides — treating you this way, why not just agree to marry him? A man like that is hard to find.”
True, Zili wasn’t bad-looking at all, gentle and considerate, deeply devoted to her — there was no reason not to say yes to him. But it was too late! Her heart had already been filled, little by little, by Liu Jue — he wore his emotions openly, passionate and vibrant. Being with Zili always carried some indescribable, unspoken melancholy, while being with Liu Jue was pure joy. If Zili possessed a starlit night’s hazy, intoxicating allure, then Liu Jue was a burst of brilliant sunlight, capable of dispelling all gloom. Having come to this ancient time from another era, her own heart, like Zili’s, carried a certain melancholy — one that constantly urged and pushed her to pursue a better life full of hope. Only sunlight and vitality gave her the strength to carve out her own legend in this era.
A’Luo laughed lightly: “Tianlin, people can’t be compared to one another. There’s a saying — different strokes for different folks. It has nothing to do with power, nothing to do with looks, nothing to do with how well he treats me. It’s simply a matter of fate.”
Gu Tianlin fell silent at these words. She too had once tried not to let her heart dwell on Zili — for three years, every letter she wrote had deliberately kept her feelings restrained, revealing nothing of her true heart. But three years later, when he returned, and she saw him again, her heart sank once more into that same depth. She had nothing more to ask, nothing more to say, and turned to leave Jade Splendor Hall. Gu Tianlin thought to herself with a bitter smile — perhaps this visit to A’Luo, too, was only so that Zili would come ask about it afterward, giving her just a little more time together with him.