Liu Jue returned to the estate. Liu Ying cried out in delight, “My lord, you’re all right! Where’s the young lady?”

Liu Jue smiled. “I’m fine. Where’s the old prince?”

“The old prince guessed you’d be fine early this morning — he’s been waiting for you in the study.”

Guessed it that early? Liu Jue thought his old man was practically a mind reader by now. He pushed open the study door and called out loudly, “Old man, your son’s about to die of pain!”

Prince Anqing tossed aside the book in his hand and rushed over. “What happened? Son!”

Liu Jue leaned his head against his father’s shoulder. “Zili gave me thirty lashes. He didn’t hold back either.”

“Ah, no matter, you’re back, that’s what matters, good, good!” Prince Anqing grinned and pulled Liu Jue into a hug, then smacked him hard on the back with his palm. Liu Jue let out a pained yelp. “Ah! Old man! Are you actually my father!”

“Hmph, you brat! Where’s my A’Luo?” Prince Anqing hadn’t seen A’Luo and grew anxious.

Liu Jue chuckled. “Old man, Zili’s adopted A’Luo as his sworn sister and made her a princess! In a month he’ll marry her to me himself, with his own hand!”

Prince Anqing said nothing at first, glancing at his son, his expression darkening, the usual warmth draining from his face. “And you can still smile about that?”

Liu Jue stopped smiling and said seriously, “Father, Zili didn’t take A’Luo into the Ice Spring. He chose instead to bear the Dragon Whip punishment himself. I truly admire him for that. He’s the king — perhaps we shouldn’t ask too much of him.”

Prince Anqing asked gravely, “Son — are you willing to carry that weight?”

“Father, I am. He’s the king, the king of Ning Guo — whether he did it to let A’Luo go, or to bind me to him with gratitude for the rest of my days, he will suffer the pain of the Dragon Whip year after year from now on. He judged it worth the price. Your son isn’t one to forget a debt either.” Liu Jue answered solemnly.

“As long as you understand that clearly, my son. Let your father add one more word of caution — A’Luo, being made a princess at a time like this, in these turbulent days, her title as princess may not bring her much peace.” Prince Anqing privately admired Zili’s resolve in going to such lengths to secure his throne, admired his courage in enduring the Dragon Whip — this king was doing well by his own measure. And yet he felt a quiet unease at these developments. He looked at Liu Jue — why did finding his son a wife have to be this difficult? Prince Anqing narrowed his eyes. His son was twenty-five this year, every inch a fine young man, features sharp and clear — and the more he looked, the more he resembled his mother. He felt his eyes sting a little. Just the reputation of “Prince Pingnan” alone would bring suitors’ daughters flocking to his door, more than he could ever choose among. Prince Anqing felt a pang of reluctance at the thought of his son suffering, and suddenly said,

“Why don’t we just not marry A’Luo after all? I never liked Chancellor Li anyway!”

Liu Jue was stunned for a moment, a look of helplessness crossing his eyes. “Old man, if it were that simple, would I have risked death breaking into the palace to take her?”

“A’Luo is good, your father likes her too, but going forward… looks alone, however lovely, become just another pretty face after long enough. Her temperament is good — but if I’m marrying one, why not marry ten? Get all the looks, all the temperament, spread across several instead of concentrated in one!” Prince Anqing seemed to grow more animated the more he spoke.

Liu Jue was caught between laughter and exasperation. “Father! Are you going to chop your son into pieces and hand out a slice to each of those ten? A’Luo, actually,” a deeply tender smile spread across his face, “you could search a thousand women in this world and never assemble another one like her. Father, my heart is not a stone, to be rolled about at will; my heart is not a mat, to be rolled up and put away. Whatever comes, I can bear it!”

Prince Anqing looked at his son, his weathered face breaking into a broad, delighted smile. “Good — a real man knows what to hold to and what to let go, and must be able to bear both what he gains and what he loses! By the way, the Prince of Li has put Cheng Shiyue in charge of Fengcheng’s city defense — his eye for people isn’t bad. Dark Night — once this is all settled, it’s time for him to disappear.”

Liu Jue laughed. “I know. He has a family now, can’t spend his whole life as the estate’s Dark Night. Once his child is born, it’s about time he got to enjoy some family life — he’s still my brother-in-law, after all.”

“And Chi Feng reports that the King of Xia made contact with the Wang family as far back as ten years ago. Small and weak as Xia Guo may be, it never stops trying to expand its territory. That soul-stealing incense must have come from him, passed to Wang Yanhui. The Wang family fell, Wang Yanhui took his own life, but he’d already planted this hidden scheme, passed now to the Prince of Qing, Liu Jian — and now he’s married the Qi Guo princess besides. I suspect the Prince of Li isn’t unaware of any of this — this may all have been within his calculations from the start.”

Liu Jue thought it over for a moment. “I understand what you’re getting at, Father. This business of A’Luo being made a princess, marrying into our house in a month — I’d wager it’s meant to be a trigger point. I’ll have more men assigned to protect her.”

“Good. Now go to Songfeng Hall and have Liu Ying look at your injuries. I’ll see to preparations for the wedding.”

The next day, the imperial decree arrived at the chancellor’s residence along with gifts from the estate. Chancellor Li and his ladies were astonished, and the Chancellor could hardly stop smiling, immediately ordering the household to prepare everything needed.

Within a short time, it was known throughout the court that Ning Guo had gained a new princess. Those who hadn’t yet seen her eagerly anticipated a glimpse of this Princess Qingluo. The news spread quickly and became the new talk of Fengcheng following the new king’s coronation.

Mingzhu, curious as well, pressed the Prince of Qing, Liu Jian, with questions. “I saw the side consort was striking — they say the one made princess is her younger sister. Even back then she never outshone her sister’s reputation — what kind of woman could she be? How does she compare to me?”

Recalling A’Luo’s beauty from that first meeting at the crown prince’s palace, and looking at Mingzhu’s eyes, Liu Jian sighed faintly. “You’ll understand when you see the princess’s rank confirmed.”

Qinglei had stayed silent all day. Having weathered hardship together with Liu Jian, she understood his ambitions to reclaim the throne, and understood that marrying Mingzhu was, in part, to draw on Qi Guo’s strength — she remained perfectly gentle and accommodating in front of Mingzhu. But hearing that A’Luo had been made a princess, and watching Liu Jian’s expression, she still felt a stab of bitterness.

Liu Jian, amused, pulled Qinglei close. “Lei’er, do you still not trust me? Only — I’m afraid your sister won’t get to enjoy being a peaceful princess for very long.”

Qinglei startled. “Why do you say that, Your Highness?”

Liu Jian smiled meaningfully. “Qingluo’s wedding will be the perfect opportunity!”

“Your Highness, there’s something Lei’er isn’t sure whether she should say.” Qinglei glanced up carefully at Liu Jian, and seeing him nod for her to continue, gathered her courage. “The five of us have been living well enough together as one family — isn’t that its own kind of fortune? Why must…”

“Enough! That’s a woman’s small-minded thinking, Lei’er. What difference is there, for a man in this world, between living such a stifled existence and simply dying? Besides, the cards in my hand right now aren’t so few!” Liu Jian’s voice rose with growing agitation, and the confidence in his brow made Qinglei feel, for a moment, as though he were once again the crown prince of old.

Qinglei looked up at his handsome, resolute face and sighed. “Lei’er only meant to say — whatever Your Highness decides to do, Lei’er will always stand with you.”

Liu Jian felt a flash of displeasure at her words, but softened his tone, unable to bear being harsh with her. “There’s no need to worry so much. I have my own plans.”

Chu Nan of Chen Guo remained in Fengcheng. Under the pretext of admiring Ning Guo’s local customs, he spent his days drifting through the city’s pleasure quarters and taverns. Hearing that Ning Guo had gained a new princess, soon to marry Prince Pingnan, he found himself thinking again of that woman in Linnan City that night — bold, sharp-witted, whose single smile had made his heart race. He still didn’t regret losing his composure over her that day. A knowing smile touched Chu Nan’s lips as he turned his wine cup idly in his hand, murmuring, “I wonder if it’s the same one — this princess.”

Seven days later, the Prince of Li issued a decree formally conferring the princess title, hosting a grand banquet attended by all the court officials and their families. Chu Nan was among the invited guests as well.

A’Luo was still residing at Yuhua Hall. Hearing that Zili had adopted her as his sworn younger sister and made her a princess, betrothed to Prince Pingnan, Gu Tianlin’s hopes rose once more, and she drew closer to A’Luo.

A’Luo still felt a lingering guilt toward her. Noticing the sorrow in Gu Tianlin’s eyes, she’d long wanted to do something for her. It occurred to her, unbidden, to think of the Rhapsody of the Long Gate, written by A’Jiao of the Han dynasty. She’d written her own version in secret, but had never found the right moment to give it to her.

Zili, having conferred her title, also arranged the grand banquet to introduce A’Luo to court society as a princess. A’Luo felt uneasy about it, thinking it far too showy. But Zili said warmly, “Not letting the officials and their families see my beautiful princess — your elder brother truly couldn’t bear that.”

That remark drew a laugh from A’Luo. Toward Zili, she also wanted to do what she could to make it up to him. So she agreed.

Gu Tianlin volunteered to take charge of dressing A’Luo for the occasion. She said playfully to Zili, “Your Majesty, just wait for us to dazzle everyone’s eyes out with our princess.”

Zili laughed heartily. “Then I’m in your debt, Empress. If it turns out as you say, this king shall reward you handsomely!”

“Oh? May this humble consort be so bold as to ask what reward Your Majesty has in mind?”

Zili gave her a sidelong glance. “Might Your Majesty — the empress and I play a duet together, xiao and qin?”

Delight lit up Gu Tianlin’s face. What did he mean by this? Could it be… A flush of color rose to Tianlin’s cheeks, and she bowed slightly. “This humble consort has long hoped to hear Your Majesty’s xiao.”

Watching Gu Tianlin walk lightly out of the study, Zili let the smile fade from his face. His eyes carried a trace of pain. He understood Gu Tianlin’s feelings all too well, understood the looks in Chancellor Gu’s and Tianxiang’s eyes as well. The empress had gone over three years without an heir — there was simply no explaining that away any longer. Ning Guo needed an heir too. He sat on the throne with a bitter smile — this was the helplessness of kingship! To the one he loved, he had to put her beauty on open display before a hall full of covetous eyes; to the one he did not love, he had to be tender enough to give her his child.

A’Luo — Zili suddenly felt a flicker of regret, not wanting her paraded before others after all. But the decree had already been issued; there was no room left to change his mind. Zili sighed deeply, murmuring to himself, “Father, was this the right choice for Yunzhi, or the wrong one?”

After a fragrant bath, the maids dressed A’Luo in the Seven Treasures Phoenix robe of woven gold. This was Ning Guo’s summer ceremonial dress for princesses — on a base of dark red gauze, a phoenix embroidered in gold thread and gemstones spread its wings across her back, seven phoenix tails trailing three feet along the hem of the gauze skirt. It had two fewer tails than the empress’s ceremonial robe. The whole outfit, jewels included, weighed no more than a few taels. With each step, the golden phoenix seemed to come alive, as though about to take flight. Before her hair was even done, Gu Tianlin’s eyes went wide, and she laughed softly. “So this is what you truly look like — enchanting!”

A’Luo flushed. “Sister Tianlin is teasing me again. I’d rather just wear my usual clothes.”

“Absolutely not!” Gu Tianlin laughed, pressing her down into the seat before the mirror. “I have an agreement with His Majesty. If you dazzle the whole hall, he — he’ll be very pleased.” A flush of color crossed her face as she finished speaking.

“What did Elder Brother promise you, Sister?” A’Luo studied her expression.

Gu Tianlin lowered her head slightly, then answered bravely, “He agreed — to play a duet with me, xiao and qin!”

A’Luo burst out laughing. “For the sake of that duet alone, A’Luo will make sure to dress her best.” She sat properly upright after that.

Inside Yixin Hall, a hundred more banquet tables had been set. The court ladies waited in the imperial garden until the princess came to greet the assembly.

Chu Nan stepped into the grand hall for the second time, glancing around but finding no sign of Prince Pingnan. Zili had specifically decreed that Liu Jue avoid the occasion. Unable to attend, Liu Jue had carefully instructed Dark Night to watch every movement closely.

At the hour of the monkey, bells and chimes rang out together, and the Prince of Li arrived. The assembled officials bowed low. Some, curious, wore expressions of open anticipation.

Zili smiled faintly. “Today we host the officials, along with Prince Chu Nan of Chen Guo, in honor of my newly conferred Princess Qingluo. Before ascending the throne, this king faced great peril, and the princess risked herself to save my life — for this I have taken her as my sworn sister and granted her the title of princess. I have invited all of you here today so that you may meet her. Announce — invite the princess forth!”

An attendant called out loudly, “Announcing the Empress and the Princess!”

At the call, Empress Gu Tianlin walked slowly into Yixin Hall, hand in hand with A’Luo. One wore the imperial-yellow phoenix robe, the other the dark-red phoenix skirt. Under the candlelight, the two phoenixes seemed to dance in tandem. Gu Tianlin’s beauty was regal and radiant, her bearing exceptional. But A’Luo was luminous and captivating, her natural grace unmatched. She wore her hair coiled in a court bun, piled high and glossy, adorned with a gold phoenix hairpin holding a pearl in its beak; strings of jade beads hung from either wing, and the pearl in the phoenix’s mouth rested against her forehead. Her smooth brow, delicate eyebrows, and jade-carved features, with a pair of luminous, crystalline eyes, dimmed every lamp in the hall by comparison. As she walked, her skirts flowed as if the embroidered phoenix might take flight from the fabric itself, and as she turned her head, the hanging ornaments chimed softly, drawing every eye in the hall.

For a moment, the hall of over a hundred fell utterly silent. The assembled officials stared in open astonishment. Even Chancellor Gu seemed briefly stunned — no wonder, he thought, what a woman! A sigh of admiration escaped him unbidden. Chancellor Li, too, froze in place, the memory of his seventh wife’s youthful beauty flickering before his eyes. Gu Tianxiang’s normally cool composure thawed, and a flicker of envy toward Liu Jue crossed his face.

Chu Nan’s mouth fell slightly open, his breath caught entirely. It was her — the woman from that night, whose smile had bloomed like a flower in the darkness. Dressed and adorned with such care, she seemed almost too beautiful to belong to this world. Chu Nan’s mind wandered, entranced, his eyes and heart fixed entirely on the graceful figure walking hand in hand with the empress.

Across the hall, Zili was lost for a long moment. A’Luo — how many more kinds of beauty do you have that I still don’t know about? Coming back to himself, his gaze swept past the Prince of Qing’s thoughtful expression and Chu Nan’s astonished eyes, and a faint smile touched his lips.

In a moment, Gu Tianlin and A’Luo reached him hand in hand. The two of them bowed to Zili, and A’Luo’s clear voice rang out. “Greetings, Royal Brother!”

Zili smiled and stepped down from the throne to lift them both up. “No need to stand on ceremony!” With one hand holding Gu Tianlin and the other holding A’Luo, he walked back to his seat, and the two women took their places on either side of the throne.

An attendant called out, “All officials, pay homage!”

The assembled officials all bowed to the ground, calling out together, “Long live the Empress! Long live the Princess!”

Once the officials rose, Chu Nan came to his senses, swept back his robe, stepped away from his table, and bowed to A’Luo. “The princess is truly extraordinary — once you saved His Majesty’s life, and once, a single smile turned danger to safety! Chu Nan pays his respects.”

A’Luo returned the bow with a smile. “Your Highness is too kind. I’ve long heard that the Second Prince of Chen Guo is a man of great valor and unmatched skill in arms — and seeing you today, it’s clear you are indeed among the finest of men!” Inwardly, though, she was startled — this Chu Nan was the very man in black who had burst into the Changle Tavern in Linnan City that night. She recognized those eyes — wild, untamed, like a beast’s.

Zili laughed heartily. “Qingluo is far more than a single smile that turns danger to safety — one might even call her a beauty who could topple a kingdom.” Affection was plain in his voice. Then, shifting tone, he added, “I have already betrothed the princess to Prince Pingnan. If Your Highness is not pressed to return home soon, you’re welcome to attend the wedding celebration.”

Chu Nan, looking at A’Luo and recalling her that night, her skirts trailing gracefully, her spirit unmistakable — twice now he’d seen her, and both times his heart had raced the same way. Catching Zili’s words, his thick brows rose and he smiled. “Congratulations to the princess, Chu Nan will be sure to stay for a cup of celebratory wine before he leaves.”

A’Luo’s face flushed pink, and she shot Zili a scolding glance. That look of feigned displeasure only made her more captivating still, and Chu Nan found himself entranced all over again, a warmth rising in his chest. He thought privately — if she would only look at me that way, angry as she was, it would be worth dying for.

A’Luo bowed gracefully to Zili. “Your Majesty, Qingluo and the Empress will take our leave now.”

Zili nodded his consent with a smile. Gu Tianlin’s eyes met his for a moment, and she smiled — she could tell Zili was pleased with how the day had gone. Happily, she took A’Luo’s hand again, and the two of them quietly left the hall.

Not until that figure had disappeared from view did Chu Nan drain his cup in one go, finding the wine that day carried a warmth unlike any he’d tasted before. Thinking of her impending marriage to Prince Pingnan, a wave of loss swept over him, and despite himself, a thought began to take shape in his mind.

Liu Jian said with a soft laugh, “His Majesty truly has an eye for people — recognizing the royal sister’s peerless beauty. And marrying her off so quickly to Prince Pingnan — even I, as her elder brother, feel reluctant to let her go.”

Zili smiled warmly. “As an elder brother myself, of course I want my sister to live happily. As long as Qingluo is happy, I am happy too. If the Prince of Qing feels reluctant to part with his royal sister, then let him take charge of the wedding arrangements — see to it that everything is done with all due splendor.”

Liu Jian rose at once and agreed, his mind already racing through a hundred calculations.

In her finery, A’Luo walked with Gu Tianlin into the imperial garden. Beneath her feet was still that same glowing path, and she found herself recalling the last time she’d walked here, during the Mid-Autumn banquet. Back then she’d never imagined she would become Ning Guo’s princess — all she’d wanted was to blend into the crowd, to remain small and unnoticed. She thought again of being recognized by Liu Jue at that banquet, of the way he’d teased her afterward, and couldn’t help a soft laugh.

Hearing it, Gu Tianlin asked quietly, “Thinking back to that Mid-Autumn banquet, sister?” She, too, found herself remembering — remembering how she’d once thought she might be chosen as crown princess, competing with Li Qinglei to look her best that night, never imagining her true match would be the fourth prince, hidden away in the shadows, who would become her king, and herself, empress.

“You’ve guessed right, sister. That’s right — that was the night Liu Jue found me. He was furious — he’d been searching for me nearly half a year before he finally learned who I was.” A’Luo’s eyes shone, her voice light with laughter.

Gu Tianlin stopped walking and reached for A’Luo’s hand. “Sister, you have no idea how captivating that smile of yours is right now. I always felt it was unfair to His Majesty — I never imagined that even back then, your heart already belonged to Prince Pingnan.” In her eyes, the light dancing across A’Luo’s face was a joy that came from deep within — she recognized it, the unmistakable glow of a woman thinking of the one she loves, reaching all the way to the depths of her eyes. Just from A’Luo’s expression alone, she knew this was a woman utterly immersed in love.

A’Luo paused, startled. Was that when it had started, then — falling for Liu Jue? A deeper smile spread across her face, and she said, a little bashfully, “To tell you the truth, sister, I truly didn’t know. I’d never really thought about love at all, not back then. My mind, at that time, simply wasn’t here.”

Gu Tianlin smiled gently. “That’s exactly why I felt envious — you never even sought it, and love found you regardless…”

“Sister, don’t trouble yourself over it. There’s something A’Luo has always wanted to say — this world has always been a man’s world, it seems, where love and its absence are left for men to decide. And yet, I know a saying — pursuing the one you love, whether man or woman, is no easy road, but if your heart truly wants it, why not set aside worldly conventions and pursue it boldly? Happiness belongs to yourself, not to be performed for others to see.” A’Luo looked earnestly at Gu Tianlin. “Waiting too long wears a person down, tires the heart. Sister, think it over carefully. Though A’Luo has always simply received love naturally and given it back in kind, I do know that love between two people isn’t always so pure and simple — a little strategy now and then isn’t out of place either.”

Gu Tianlin’s hand flew to her mouth in astonishment. Heavens — was Princess Qingluo actually encouraging her to cast aside propriety and seek His Majesty’s affection directly? Such bold words seemed entirely out of keeping with someone raised as a chancellor’s daughter.

A’Luo laughed softly. “No need to be so shocked, sister. I’ll be honest with you — my own thinking runs against the grain. If Liu Jue ever takes another concubine, I’ll leave him without a second thought.”

Gu Tianlin startled again — in her own upbringing, it had never occurred to her that a husband might belong to only one wife. The very best she’d ever hoped for was simply greater favor than the others. Hearing this, she laughed and leaned in close. “If Prince Pingnan ever heard that, I wonder how furious he’d be.”

The two of them looked at each other and laughed, then stepped into the banquet.

An attendant announced, “The Empress arrives! The Princess arrives!”

The two of them took their seats, and the assembled ladies bowed low in greeting. “Long live the Empress, long live the Princess!”

Gu Tianlin smiled. “Rise, everyone. Today is simply a happy occasion — we’re all here to meet our Princess Qingluo, no need to stand on ceremony.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

The ladies rose and returned to their seats. A’Luo could feel countless eyes drifting toward her, and couldn’t help but smile to herself. At that last banquet, she’d played only an ordinary flute tune, and the former deposed queen had dismissed her looks as unremarkable, her talents shallow — she suspected the ladies who had been at that Mid-Autumn banquet would be quite surprised this time around.

Mingzhu attended as the Prince of Qing’s consort. Her eyes widened as she took in Qingluo seated at the place of honor, and only then did she finally understand what Liu Jian had meant when he’d said she’d understand once she saw it for herself. A beauty impossible to put into words. Princess Qingluo carried a distinctive quality all her own — not the noble bearing of the Wang family, yet possessing an entirely different kind of presence, one that even seemed to surpass Empress Gu Tianlin’s, seated right beside her. She was struck by how much Qingluo’s eyes resembled her own, and their figures were quite similar too — an idea began, faintly, to take shape in her mind.

She had already caught fragments of gossip among the court ladies that this princess had no particular talents to speak of, and, recalling her own dancing skill, felt a spark of competitiveness rise in her. She said sweetly, “This humble consort, Mingzhu, wife of the Prince of Qing, has the pleasure of meeting the princess for the first time today. I’ve heard the side consort of the Prince Pingnan’s estate — the princess’s own elder sister — has considerable skill at the qin. Might I be so bold as to ask the princess for a piece as well?”

Gu Tianlin had only known that both Li Qinglei and she herself were skilled at the qin, not that A’Luo played too — A’Luo was known for the flute. She glanced toward A’Luo, a question in her eyes.

A’Luo’s thoughts turned at once to the Lament of the Long Gate she’d written out for Gu Tianlin, and she said with a quiet smile, “Sister, listen closely to this piece — once the banquet ends, I’ll give you the lyrics.”

With that, she rose from her seat, tuned the qin with two soft notes, and let the mournful strains of Lament of the Long Gate pour out from her fingers, sorrowful and winding, layer upon layer.

By the time the last note faded, Gu Tianlin’s face was wet with tears without her realizing it. She wiped them away and said with a smile, “The princess plays beautifully — she’s quite undone my composure. A banquet should be a joyful thing — I’ll fine the princess three cups of wine as penalty. Any objections, ladies?”

A murmur of agreement rose from below. A’Luo laughed lightly and drained the cups. “A’Luo played that for you, sister, and now you’re punishing me for it — how unreasonable.” she said quietly. “Once the banquet ends, I’ll tell you the story behind that piece.”

Gu Tianlin smiled and agreed.

The music and dancing resumed, dispelling the sorrow that had settled over the room. Mingzhu quietly calculated — about twenty days remained until the princess’s wedding. The timing was good. She said with a smile, “I’ve heard the princess’s wedding draws near. This humble consort comes from Qi Guo, and on our grasslands grows a rare flower called moon-frost, said to cure a hundred poisons when taken. It blooms only once every hundred years, and only for a moment before wilting — only those fortunate enough may gather it from the snowfields. As it happens, my royal brother sent word that he’d obtained one, rushed here to Ning Guo under cover of night — allow me to offer it as my wedding gift to the princess.”

A flower that could cure a hundred poisons? A’Luo said cheerfully, “In that case, Qingluo thanks the Consort of Qing.”

Privately, Mingzhu smiled coldly to herself. If not for the plan to use the wedding as an opportunity, such a rare flower wouldn’t be spared even for the King of Qi himself.

Back at his lodgings after the banquet, Chu Nan tossed and turned, his mind filled with nothing but Qingluo’s image. He came to his senses with a start — she was to marry Prince Pingnan, Liu Jue — how could he let himself fall for her? Thinking of Liu Jue, Chu Nan mused for a long while before instructing, “Prepare an invitation for Prince Pingnan. This prince wishes to test his skill against him!”

He thought contemptuously to himself — Liu Jue had already taken a blade from him once; if he hadn’t exhausted himself in battle on the city wall beforehand, his skill would have been a good three parts weaker than Chu Nan’s own. It would serve him well to test him again, take him down a notch, and vent this simmering frustration.

As it happened, Liu Jue had been counting the days on his fingers, his lash wounds healed, restless and bored without A’Luo to see. The moment Chu Nan’s invitation arrived, it suited him perfectly. Liu Jue grinned wickedly — that blade Chu Nan had landed on him before, this time he meant to return the favor. The two agreed to meet for the match at the southern outskirts.

Zili, hearing the report, smiled too — another opportunity! He sought out A’Luo and said, “It’s not that your elder brother forbids you two from meeting — the ancestral rules simply state a princess may not privately meet her betrothed before the wedding. But — Prince Pingnan and Chen Guo’s Prince Chu Nan are dueling in the southern outskirts, and I’ve already agreed to serve as judge for the match. What if I brought you along in secret?”

A’Luo brightened with excitement. She hadn’t seen Liu Jue in days and missed him terribly. She looked at Zili and smiled. “Elder Brother really is the best.”

A fresh pang struck Zili’s heart. When had she ever looked this delighted to see him? The smile stiffened for a moment before smoothing back into his usual composure. “Very well then, you’ll go dressed as a guard. Ah — such a fine, handsome guard, what a shame.”

On the twenty-third of the fifth month, Zili set out for the southern outskirts with only a hundred personal guards.

On the grassy slope across the Duning River, Liu Jue sat lazily sunning himself, dressed in a flowing silver-white robe with sword in hand. He watched Chu Nan approach on horseback, dressed in tight crimson, headband holding back his long hair, a company of guards behind him, radiating an air of imposing authority.

Liu Jue asked Xuan Yi with a grin, “Am I more dashing, or him?”

“Does my lord want the honest answer?”

“Of course!”

“My lord looks like he’s lounging about at a pleasure house, none of Prince Chu Nan’s commanding presence at all!” Xuan Yi answered earnestly.

“What would you know about it? This is what’s called conserving strength while the enemy wears himself out — throw him off his stride first! Best to get him half-furious before we even begin.” Liu Jue narrowed his eyes lazily. “Really, I should have brought Hongyu from the Pleasure Pavilion to play a tune for me while I wait.”

Xuan Yi thought a moment, then said, “My lord had best drop that idea. It looks like there’s a guard in His Majesty’s camp who bears a striking resemblance to the princess. If she were to see Miss Hongyu, that would be…”

Before he’d even finished, Liu Jue sprang up from his seat and looked toward Zili’s royal tent some twenty paces off — sure enough, there stood a guard beside him who could be no one but A’Luo. He hastily straightened his clothes and shot Xuan Yi a resentful glare. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Xuan Yi, holding back laughter, said quietly, “This servant thought it good for my lord to take Prince Chu Nan down a peg — better than losing and looking a fool.”

“You lot!” Liu Jue gritted his teeth.

Seeing Chu Nan riding alone up the slope, Xuan Yi murmured, “This servant wishes my lord victory! And, might as well mention — Fengcheng’s taken up wagers on this match. The old prince put down a thousand taels on Prince Chu Nan winning! And this servant put down five taels on my lord!” Just as he finished mentioning his own five-tael bet, he’d already darted swiftly away down the slope.

Liu Jue was so furious smoke practically curled from his head. Old man! Watch me defeat Chu Nan and clean out your whole fortune! Five taels — five measly taels is all I’m worth to you?!

Chu Nan spurred his horse up the slope, gave a sharp “Whoa!” and yanked the reins hard, his horse’s forelegs rearing. He leapt down smoothly and cupped his fists in greeting. “Prince Pingnan, well met! Today, with His Majesty in attendance, do try not to embarrass him too badly!”

The lingering irritation from his father and Xuan Yi hadn’t yet cooled, and seeing Chu Nan, Liu Jue lifted his chin and looked down at him disdainfully. “Last time you fought me while I was already spent from the walls, and still managed to land a hit. This king will be generous — I won’t return the favor. Just admit defeat and spare us both the trouble, save some goodwill between our two nations.”

Chu Nan let out a bark of laughter. “That depends on whether Prince Pingnan has the skill to back it up. Winning the beauty doesn’t necessarily mean winning against this prince’s blade. Why not — if you lose, let me take your place as royal son-in-law?” His tone was thick with arrogance.

Furious at the remark, Liu Jue drew his sword and pointed it straight at Chu Nan, his voice grim. “For that alone, I take back what I just said. Show me everything you’ve got — don’t blame this king for showing no mercy.” He thought: you dare set your sights on A’Luo too? His gaze swept toward the royal tent and caught, from a distance, A’Luo’s anxious eyes watching. He gave a cold smile. “Come, then!”

Chu Nan slowly drew his short sword. “After you!”

Liu Jue’s long sword traced a circle of light through the air as he leapt up and thrust forward in a single strike, momentum like a mountain bearing down on Chu Nan. Chu Nan gave a soft grunt and swept his short blade out in a spray of cold glints. The two blades met in the air with a series of ringing clashes.

Both were formidable fighters. A’Luo couldn’t quite follow the finer points, only found it dazzling to watch the blades flash back and forth, and worried over Liu Jue, turning to ask Zili, “Elder Brother, whose skill is greater?”

Zili laughed softly. “Nervous? No need to worry — the two of them are evenly matched. I’ll call a stop once it’s run its course, and let it end in a draw.”

Sure enough, after dozens of exchanges, neither had gained the upper hand. Zili signaled to a guard, who rushed forward, calling out loudly, “By order of His Majesty — cease battle!”

At the call, Liu Jue and Chu Nan exchanged a glance, their blades meeting once more before they leapt apart. Chu Nan said with grudging respect, “Prince Pingnan’s skill with the blade is impressive indeed, to fight this king to a draw!”

“Your Highness isn’t bad either — managing fifty exchanges against this king. That blade you took last time wasn’t undeserved,” Liu Jue replied with a smile.

The two of them leapt down the slope together to pay respects to Zili at the royal tent. A’Luo, forgetting she was dressed as a guard, ran happily out and stood waiting for Liu Jue.

Chu Nan started, momentarily. Today’s A’Luo, in her guard’s uniform, carried a striking blend of allure and spirit, her eyes bright and gleaming with anticipation. He glanced toward Liu Jue, and a pang of bitterness rose unbidden in his heart. Reaching the front of the tent, he bowed to Zili. “Your Majesty’s generosity — today’s match ends in a draw.” His eyes drifted, unconsciously, back toward the tent’s entrance.

Liu Jue glanced at A’Luo, then, blinking, stepped into the tent and bowed. “This subject, Liu Jue, greets Your Majesty. The scenery here is fine — this subject would like to borrow Your Majesty’s guards to go hunt a couple of rabbits to present.”

Zili glanced at A’Luo, then at the expression on Chu Nan’s face, and said with mild warmth, “Go quickly, and return quickly.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Liu Jue withdrew from the tent in high spirits and tossed his chin toward A’Luo with a grin.

Xuan Yi brought two horses over. Liu Jue and A’Luo mounted and, with a kick of the horse’s flank, rode off with the Black-Robe Cavalry in tow. Once well clear of the royal tent, Liu Jue glanced at Xuan Yi. Xuan Yi said knowingly, “There’s no need for my lord to go hunting rabbits himself — my lord may simply wait here.”

A’Luo laughed softly, dismounted, and walked slowly along the stream with Liu Jue.

Liu Jue couldn’t resist reaching to embrace her. A’Luo dodged aside neatly. “Prince Pingnan, do behave — even a man of your reputation for good manners with men shouldn’t be scheming after His Majesty’s guards!”

“You brat! Still teasing me, come here!” Liu Jue laughed and scolded at once.

A’Luo glanced around and, seeing no one nearby, went to him and threw her arms around him, nuzzling her head into his chest.

“Missed me, hm?” Liu Jue’s voice softened.

A’Luo looked up, her face flushed, eyes bright with laughter. “I did. Ten more days and I’ll be out of the palace — free at last!”

“A’Luo, do you want to leave the palace — or do you want to marry me?”

“Leave the palace!”

“Wrong answer. Try again!” Liu Jue shook his head.

“Fine, then, I want to marry you — from now on you’re my permanent meal ticket, my unlimited allowance, my unbreakable golden rice bowl. I’ll finally get to be a spoiled, willful, thoroughly unreasonable wife!” A’Luo put her hands on her hips, striking a pose of triumphant mischief.

Liu Jue laughed helplessly and pressed her head back against his chest, resting his chin atop it, murmuring, “Please, no more surprises after this. You’ll drive me mad.”

Inside the royal tent, Zili watched Chu Nan quietly drowning his frustration in wine. He said with a faint smile, “Once Prince Pingnan’s wedding is done, will Your Highness be heading back to your own country?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Chu Nan has already lingered too long in Fengcheng. This time I’ll be returning by water — the ship is ready.” Chu Nan smiled, though his thoughts kept drifting back to A’Luo. How could he possibly bring her back to Chen Guo with him? Storming the palace was out of the question. Would war break out over her eventually? A conflict was coming regardless — if he seized her as a hostage, that might work too.

“These past days the palace has been thrown into chaos, all preparations for Princess Qingluo’s wedding. This king hasn’t had a moment to properly entertain Your Highness — allow me to offer this cup as a farewell toast.”

“I couldn’t presume. May I ask — will the princess return to the chancellor’s residence before the wedding?”

“The princess will be married directly from the palace. The Prince of Qing has already made all the arrangements. Your Highness is welcome to attend the ceremony at the palace, or go directly to Prince Anqing’s estate to offer congratulations!” Zili answered with a smile.

Chu Nan glanced at the time and rose from his seat. “Chu Nan will certainly attend the ceremony. Please convey to Prince Pingnan that this prince admires his skill with the blade greatly, and hopes for the chance to cross swords again someday.”

Watching Chu Nan depart, a faint smile once again touched Zili’s lips. His thoughts turned to A’Luo, and his heart darkened. He rose and gave the order. “Leave fifty men to escort the princess back to the palace. We depart.”

He sat in silence in the royal carriage. If he stayed and watched A’Luo and Liu Jue together, so tenderly devoted to each other, he simply couldn’t bear it.

Carrying rabbits back to camp, a guard approached and reported, “His Majesty has already returned to the palace ahead of us, and ordered we escort the princess back. His Majesty left word that the scenery here is fine, and the princess rarely gets to travel outside — you may return before the city gates close.”

A’Luo leapt up happily. “Let’s go roast rabbit!”

Liu Jue raised an eyebrow, suppressing a strange sense of unease, and smiled as he caught up with A’Luo.

Dusk gradually settled. Liu Jue held A’Luo close. “A’Luo, if we were ever separated one day, how would I find you?”

“If that ever happens? Just ask Zili for that hawk of his.”

“And if the hawk were killed?”

“Then I’ll mark the direction for you, so you can come find me. Remember the letters I taught you?” A’Luo smiled. “I’m not even worried — why are you so anxious about this?”

Liu Jue was silent a moment. “I can’t quite explain it. I just have this uneasy feeling. I’ll assign more men to watch over you.”

A’Luo laughed. “You’ve got pre-wedding jitters!”

“What’s that?”

“It means — well, we’ve had such bad luck all along, that now that the wedding’s finally close, you’re anxious, worried something will go wrong again.”

Liu Jue murmured, “I hope that’s all it is.” He drew out a jade pendant on a cord and hung it around A’Luo’s neck. “The jade is hollow — inside are a few fireworks charges, unique to the Black-Robe Cavalry, the same kind that are in your earrings. If anything happens, set them off.”

A’Luo leaned into him. “I hope nothing goes wrong again. Let’s just stay like this, together. Afterward, we’ll go see my mother, travel around a bit — that would be wonderful.”

“We will. Trust me!” Liu Jue answered firmly. Privately, based on everything the intelligence reports suggested, he was certain something would go wrong on the wedding day itself. He had already ordered his men in the palace to keep close watch over A’Luo — he couldn’t bear to lose her again.