On the third day of the third month, the skies were fresh and new. Along the waterways of Chang’an, beautiful women gathered in abundance.

Today was the Upper Si Festival — a holiday and day of rest. The entire city of Chang’an was awash in the colors of spring, and the people poured out in joyful family groups to ramble through the greenery and perform the ritual purification at the water’s edge.

Princess Pingyang, Li Shu, had woken late. Rush as she might, by the time she reached Qujiang Pool, the lanes outside were already clogged with the carriages of meritorious families and hereditary noble houses. Her own carriage was stuck for quite some time before it managed to squeeze through.

After stewing in the carriage for a good while, Li Shu grew impatient. She stepped out and swept her gaze over the surrounding vehicles, then complained aloud: “Father Emperor just had to host the New Scholars’ Banquet at Qujiang Pool. He knew perfectly well today was the Upper Si Festival — there are always crowds here to begin with, and now the roads are completely blocked.”

Three days prior, the Great Ye empire’s first imperial examination had concluded. This was the first time the dynasty had selected officials based on talent rather than birth — and it had indeed drawn forth a remarkable number of learned men from among the common people. Word had it that the newly crowned top scholar was a young man from a humble background.

Because the palace examination and the Upper Si Festival fell only three days apart, the Emperor had decided to hold the New Scholars’ Banquet at Qujiang Pool. Court officials could admire the scenery while discussing affairs of state — a most agreeable arrangement.

She had barely finished grumbling when the sound of approaching hoofbeats caught her ear. She turned, and there he was — Cui Jinzhi, on horseback.

Her prince consort, Cui Jinzhi, was here to attend today’s New Scholars’ Banquet.

Although they lived beneath the same roof, this was the first time the two had laid eyes on each other in three full months.

Cui Jinzhi naturally spotted Li Shu as well. He leaped down from his horse and tossed his riding crop to someone behind him. His blue robes billowed as he strode straight toward Li Shu — his long brows and phoenix eyes carrying a natural, effortless charm — and said: “Your subject, Cui Jinzhi, pays his respects to the Princess.”

He bowed, then straightened. The naturally alluring corners of his eyes and brows cut straight to the core of Li Shu’s heart.

Li Shu’s heart gave a sudden leap. All the feelings of the years welled up in an instant, and joy flooded through her. In the three months since their last fierce quarrel, they hadn’t seen each other once, hadn’t exchanged a single word. Still, she had missed him — that much she could not deny.

She was just about to take the initiative and offer a conciliatory gesture, when she stepped closer and caught, drifting off him, the faintest trace of osmanthus blossom.

Every drop of joy inside her froze solid in an instant.

While she had been living alone by lamplight these three months, he had clearly not been wanting for company — someone had already been adding fragrance to his evenings.

The smile on Li Shu’s lips did not diminish, but the warmth drained entirely from her eyes. The moment she opened her mouth, it was pure mockery: “The pleasure cruise at Qujiang Pool is a rare spectacle — why didn’t you bring Qing Luo along to broaden her horizons? It might spare us the sight of her looking so pinched and shabby every time, rooted to the spot whenever she lays eyes on my gowns and gold hairpins, unable to move her feet.”

Li Shu’s eyes had a naturally pointed inner corner that seemed to cut straight through a person.

The smile that had been on Cui Jinzhi’s face vanished at once. His phoenix eyes turned cold as ice.

“Li Shu — if you have nothing kind to say, then keep your mouth shut!”

But Li Shu was not the least bit afraid of him. She gave a cold laugh. “What’s the matter? You’ve grown so accustomed to her soft, sweet words that you can’t bear to hear plain speaking from me? Small wonder — she came out of a pleasure house after all. That mouth of hers must know every flattering phrase there is. I could never learn to speak like that…”

“You—!” Cui Jinzhi was furious.

Li Shu pressed on, needling him mercilessly: “Don’t be angry — a fit of temper will ruin your health. And if you drop dead from rage, how will you ever again enjoy your little consolation flower and all her cloudy peaks and rainy pleasures?”

Cui Jinzhi laughed in spite of his fury. “I can’t be bothered with you!”

With one sharp flick of his long sleeve, he turned his back on Li Shu and walked straight into the banquet grounds.

Another parting in discord. Another sleeve flung in departure.

What a painfully familiar scene. Three months ago, their quarrel had ended the same way — also over that wretched Qing Luo — the two of them parting in mutual fury.

These bitter, cutting spats had run through nearly every single meeting they’d had in three years together. They had quarreled so many times that Li Shu had nearly forgotten she had once… had once loved him desperately — so desperately she could have cut open her chest and offered him her heart to see.

Her attending maidservant was named Hong Luo. Watching the princess and the prince consort part in anger yet again, she couldn’t stop herself from saying: “My lady, the prince consort was quite pleased to see you at first. Why did you have to bring up that wretched girl? If you had simply kept the peace and treated him warmly, wouldn’t that have been better…”

Why must she always open her mouth like a blade, as if she wanted to stab the prince consort full of holes?

Even a princess could not win a man’s affection with a temper like hers.

Hong Luo had served at the princess’s side since they were both young. She was not originally called Hong Luo. Three years ago, when the prince consort had taken in a woman from the pleasure quarters named Qing Luo, the princess had been furious and renamed her maidservant “Hong Luo” — to pair with Qing Luo — intending it as a dig at the woman’s lowly station, no better than a servant carrying someone’s wash basin.

Hong Luo had watched the whole of it: how deeply the princess had loved Cui Jinzhi, how joyful she had been on their wedding day, and how, in the face of his relentless indifference day after day, she had gradually been worn down into the sharp-tongued, bitter creature she was now.

The princess, sharp as she was in words, would always find herself in private distress after driving the prince consort away time and again.

But proud as Li Shu was — would she ever heed Hong Luo’s words?

Asking her to share a man with another woman?

Laughable!

Li Shu let out a cold scoff, raised her chin, and walked into the Qujiang pleasure grounds.

On Upper Si Festival days of years past, Qujiang Pool had been the most lively place in the whole city. This water pavilion had been booked by such-and-such Duke; that covered gallery was occupied by such-and-such noble clan. Even now that the Emperor had commandeered the greater share of the pavilions and galleries for the New Scholars’ Banquet, it did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of the princes and nobility for their amusements. If the pavilions were taken, they took to the lake in painted pleasure boats — and from there they might even catch a glimpse of the Emperor himself. All the more entertaining.

Li Shu was by nature cool and reserved, with no fondness for noisy crowds. She had come today solely to attend the banquet hosted by Grand Princess Kangning. Grand Princess Kangning was the Emperor’s own sister — which made her Li Shu’s imperial aunt — and no matter how little Li Shu cared for crowds, she could hardly refuse her aunt’s invitation.

Maidservants had been waiting at the grounds to receive her. When they saw Li Shu arrive, they promptly led her to Grand Princess Kangning’s pleasure boat, moored out on the lake.

Li Shu had barely set foot on the deck — not yet entered the cabin — when laughter rang out from within: “Princess Anle, if you keep making fun of the Grand Princess like this, the Grand Princess is going to be cross with you!”

Quite the merry gathering.

But Li Shu’s steps faltered.

Anle was here as well.

Of course she was — the Grand Princess and Anle were the closest of aunts and nieces. How could she have left her out of the Upper Si Festival banquet?

All right, then. With Anle here, there was no chance of enjoying today’s gathering in peace.

The maidservant stationed at the curtain saw Li Shu arrive and hastily drew back the beaded drape. Li Shu entered the cabin and dipped into a distant bow toward the woman in the seat of honor. “Your subject pays her respects to the Grand Princess.”

The cabin, which had been so lively and animated just moments before, fell instantly silent.

Every noblewoman present turned her gaze upon Li Shu.

In the seat of honor sat a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties; beside her was a young married woman of about twenty — Grand Princess Kangning and Princess Anle. Both had smiles on their faces, clearly having been laughing and chatting in high spirits just moments before.

At the sight of Li Shu, Princess Anle’s smile vanished at once. The Grand Princess likewise schooled her expression, though unlike Anle, she was not one to let emotion run freely across her face. She still wore a veneer of courteous warmth. “Pingyang is here? Come, come — sit down.”

Li Shu took the seat below the Grand Princess, directly beside Anle. She had barely settled when Anle let out a sharp, audible “hmph” — which, in the utter silence of the cabin, rang out very clearly indeed.

Li Shu lifted her eyes, let them slide sideways to land on Anle, and said: “Spring weather is easy to fall ill in. Is your nose a bit stuffy, dearest Anle? I have a divine physician in my household — shall I send him to have a look at you tomorrow? Speaking of this physician — it’s quite a story. My prince consort has always loved to wander, roaming the mountains and rivers in his younger years. One day, quite by chance, he encountered this physician on his travels and brought him home. Whenever I have so much as a headache or a slight chill, one look from him and a single remedy sets me right.”

As soon as Princess Anle heard Li Shu bring up Cui Jinzhi, her expression turned even more sour. She shot Li Shu a fierce glare, and then at last managed to squeeze out the first words she’d spoken since they met today: “I am perfectly well — there’s nothing wrong with me. And even if there were, I wouldn’t want your household’s so-called divine physician!”

Her voice was crisp and bright — quite pleasant to hear, carrying all the endearing guilelessness of a young girl. Every noblewoman in the cabin was holding her breath, all eyes fixed on the two princesses.

Princess Pingyang and Princess Anle — fire and water.

Princess Pingyang, Li Shu, was no more than a lowly concubine-born daughter. Princess Anle, on the other hand, was the only princess born of the Empress — the Crown Prince’s own younger sister. And yet Li Shu was formidably capable, skilled at pleasing the Emperor, and had somehow come to share equally in the imperial favor with Anle.

As for the grudge between the two princesses… it was a woman’s quarrel, as these things always are — over a man.

Prince Consort Cui Jinzhi had once been the man Princess Anle had set her heart on. By some means Li Shu had gotten hold of him, and from that day forward Anle had loathed her.

There wasn’t a single gathering where these two were both present that didn’t end in discord. Everyone watched with a mixture of anxiety and eager anticipation, secretly wishing they could settle in for a good show.

Li Shu was supremely skilled at reading faces and hearts — one glance was enough to take in the thoughts of everyone present. She and Anle were at odds, yes, but she had no wish to be gawked at like a monkey at a fair. So she lowered her flag and put away her drums, and did not speak another word.

A noblewoman’s banquet, when it came down to it, was a dull affair. The quieter sort clustered together for conversation; the livelier ones went off to fish and play.

Li Shu was cool by nature and had no close friends among the noble ladies and consorts’ wives. Even those who wished to curry favor with her were too wary of Princess Anle’s presence to dare draw near. So she was left quite alone.

Not that Li Shu minded in the least. She leaned against the window and gazed out at the water, perfectly content.

Then, from outside the window, she caught the voices of a few young women on the deck — fishing and chatting — drifting clearly to her ears.

One young woman laughed: “When we get to the New Scholars’ Banquet later, we must get a proper look. I’ve heard the top scholar is extremely handsome!”

Another nodded eagerly: “Not only handsome — his talent is extraordinary too. The Emperor himself personally elevated him to first place! My grandfather was one of the exam readers, and at first he wasn’t fond of the sharp, cutting edge in the young man’s writing, so he ranked him only in the third tier. But then the Emperor reviewed the papers and found his essay brilliant — and moved him all the way from third tier to first place!”

The speaker was a young woman from the Xiao Family of Lanling, whose grandfather had served as chief examiner for this year’s examination.

Li Shu listened and inwardly gave a sardonic smile. Her grandfather didn’t dislike the edge in the young man’s writing — he simply saw that the essay was written by a commoner’s hand and refused to let a man of humble birth take a place that rightfully belonged to the noble families. That was the plain truth of it.

As for why Father Emperor had “happened” to come across that particular essay — that was because Li Shu herself, recognizing the talent, had specially recommended it to him.

Her father had greatly admired the young man’s essay. After designating him top scholar with a stroke of his vermillion brush, the Emperor had said to Li Shu with a laugh: “Had my daughter not married so early, this top scholar would have made a fine match for her.”

Another young woman asked: “You’ve both praised him to the skies — but I still don’t know the top scholar’s name!”

The young woman from the Xiao Family answered: “Shen Xiao, from Wuxing.”

“Shen Xiao?” Several young women frowned. “The Shen family of Wuxing? I’ve never heard of them.”

The young woman from the Xiao Family cast a disdainful glance. “Wuxing’s only notable clan name is the Qian family — and even that is hardly distinguished. As for any Shen family — they’re nothing but commoners. Of course we’ve never heard of them. Hardly worth dirtying our ears.”

The young women’s expressions shifted to something like pity — the gulf between the noble families and the commoners was vast. A commoner who passed the examination was still a commoner.

“Ah, but…” one young woman lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Grand Princess Kangning seems to be rather… interested in this top scholar. Though his birth is far too low to make a proper husband, surely he’s fit to be the Grand Princess’s companion?”

Barely finished speaking, she dissolved into giggles. The other young women all called her “naughty” and promptly set upon her with tickling fingers.

Li Shu felt an inward smile at that.

Grand Princess Kangning’s penchant for keeping male companions was notorious throughout all of Chang’an. The Grand Princess had been through two prince consorts — one who had died in battle, one who had died young. After that, the Grand Princess had simply given up on marriage and kept seven or eight companions in her household instead, living a life of indulgence and ease.

This was hardly scandalous by the standards of Great Ye. The dynasty’s customs were open and its ritual codes lenient. Even today’s Upper Si Festival — which was ostensibly a day for rambling in the greenery — saw any number of casual dalliances among the hills and wilds. Among noble ladies, keeping companions or meeting privately with lovers was common enough — they simply tended to be more discreet than the Grand Princess, rather than so openly brazen.

Li Shu understood now — why the Grand Princess had not hosted today’s banquet at her own princess’s mansion, but had come all the way to Qujiang Pool instead. The wine was not what the drinker was after. She wanted a look at the handsome, talented top scholar.

As for the top scholar Shen Xiao — may heaven take pity on him and let him look after himself. Being a companion was no honorable thing. If the Grand Princess truly set her sights on him, his official career was as good as finished.

Li Shu silently mouthed the name “Shen Xiao” — and couldn’t shake the feeling that it was strangely, deeply familiar, though she couldn’t place where she might have heard it before.

After a while, a junior eunuch came to deliver a message: the New Scholars’ Banquet was about to begin, and the Grand Princess was requested to lead the ladies to attend.

The New Scholars’ Banquet was held in the Furong Garden of Qujiang Pool. Once inside, Li Shu swept a quick glance around — the same familiar faces as always, either imperial relations or high-ranking officials in their scarlet and purple robes, a sea of them.

Among that sea of officials, Li Shu immediately spotted Cui Jinzhi. He was speaking with the Crown Prince, who wore robes of bright imperial yellow. When the ladies arrived, Cui Jinzhi glanced over and their eyes met briefly — then he quickly looked away. Clearly he was still angry over her cutting words earlier.

Seeing how cold he was, Li Shu deliberately averted her own gaze and did not look at him again.

Besides the familiar imperial relations and officials, the new faces were the newly placed examination scholars. Li Shu took a brief look and identified most of them at once.

The second-place scholar was the legitimate son of the Zheng Family of Xingyang’s second branch; the third-place flower-of-talent scholar was the eldest legitimate son of the Jiang Family of Tianshui. The rest who had placed in the second and third tiers were, for the most part, all sons of noble families from various regions.

They had family connections in the court and were at ease — some standing behind their clan’s elders, others chatting with friendly acquaintances — all perfectly at home and cheerful.

The one jarring note was the top scholar, standing alone in plain ash-colored cotton robes.

He stood by the edge of the water pavilion, spine perfectly straight — tall and lean, inexplicably calling to mind the image of someone who had read by a cold window for years without enough to eat.

His very presence seemed to tear a hole in the prosperous, peaceful scene around him, forcing the unseen hardships of the common world right into everyone’s line of sight.

No wonder he was being excluded.

When Li Shu fixed her gaze on him, he seemed to sense it. He quickly lowered his head slightly, keeping his face from being clearly seen.

Grand Princess Kangning also noticed Shen Xiao. She murmured to Anle beside her: “He does look a bit too threadbare, but there’s a certain clean elegance about him.” She sounded rather appreciative.

At that moment, a melody of refined music rose from behind them — the Emperor’s retinue had arrived.

Emperor Zhengyuan had spent his years as a prince on the battlefield, an emperor who had risen on horseback. Though now past forty, he still moved with a commanding, vigorous stride.

He had little patience for elaborate ceremony. Once the assembled court had called out “Long live the Emperor,” he took his seat above with no further fuss.

All present arranged themselves by rank and took their places.

Seated. Dishes served. Music and dance began.

As prince consort, Cui Jinzhi was expected to sit with Li Shu.

Li Shu poured a cup of wine and carried it over to him in person — Princess Anle was sitting on the left watching closely, after all. What would it look like if they made no show of affection?

Cui Jinzhi accepted the cup entirely naturally and drank it in one draught. When before others, they could always play the part of the most devoted couple.

Anle, seeing this, had no choice but to turn away in frustrated displeasure. Her own prince consort proactively picked up food for her, but she knocked away his chopsticks in a show of venting. When Anle’s prince consort caught Li Shu watching, he smiled back at her with easy brightness.

The gathering had grown lively all around — cups were raised, toasts exchanged, laughter and cheerful talk filled the air. Li Shu could hardly stay completely silent, or she would betray the unhappiness of her marriage. Li Shu was a proud woman. No matter how bitter the ache, she would swallow it herself and never allow anyone else the satisfaction of pitying her.

So she hung a polite smile and, making conversation out of nothing, said to Cui Jinzhi: “I heard the Crown Prince has asked you to oversee the dredging of Yongtong Canal?”

Cui Jinzhi was the legitimate son of Duke Cuiguo, whose own late father had campaigned alongside the Emperor in his rise to power. Though Cui Jinzhi had never seen a battlefield himself, his family’s hereditary standing had secured him an early position in the Ministry of War.

This year, the severe drought in Guanzhong had caused the Yongtong Canal to silt up. The grain from the south couldn’t be transported north. The Crown Prince had been put in charge of managing the drought, and he had ordered the Ministries of War and Works to work together urgently to dredge the waterway. Cui Jinzhi had taken on this particular assignment.

Seeing that Li Shu was making an effort at conversation, Cui Jinzhi replied: “Yes. It won’t be easy — I’m afraid I’ll be encamped along the Yongtong Canal for two or three months without being able to return to the mansion. How about we go to the Leyou Plains for a ride when the banquet disperses? The weather is fine today — galloping at full speed should offer some splendid scenery.”

He smiled as he said it.

He was born with phoenix eyes that carried an air of effortless allure even when unsmiling; when he did smile, he scattered heartbreak wherever he looked.

Li Shu almost let herself drown in his eyes. She could have given him warmth for warmth — a look from him was worth a heart’s full measure of tenderness in return.

But that faint trace of osmanthus kept drifting at the edges of her senses, reminding her of the woman named Qing Luo.

That was the thorn between them. A thorn that could never be removed.

Li Shu gave Cui Jinzhi an oblique, careless glance, and said with cool nonchalance: “Today is Upper Si Festival — a fine day for outdoor dalliances. That’s a good day for you and Qing Luo. Don’t drag me into it. Disgusting.”

Cui Jinzhi’s phoenix eyes went cold and shuttered. Not another word.

Every other table was lively and animated, cups raised in toasts, voices and laughter mingling freely. Only here, between Li Shu and Cui Jinzhi, was it cold and silent as a winter grave.

Li Shu suddenly felt a profound weariness.

Truly. She and Cui Jinzhi — what were they doing? What was the point?

She found herself thinking: perhaps living like Grand Princess Kangning and keeping a few companions of her own would not be such a bad idea.

She couldn’t spend her whole life clinging to Cui Jinzhi.

While she was turning this over in her mind, the eunuch beside Emperor Zhengyuan called out in a high, carrying voice: “The top three scholars of the New Examination are to present themselves before the Emperor!”

Li Shu’s attention was drawn over.

The second- and third-place scholars went without saying — both from noble families, they had seen the Emperor at various occasions even without this examination. They presented themselves with calm composure, neither servile nor overbearing.

As for the top scholar — whether he was feigning composure or genuinely unruffled, it was hard to say. For a man of common birth, he was remarkably steady, carrying himself in those plain cotton robes with a straight back that somehow gave him an air of unyielding character.

The three men stood in the center of the hall and knelt to pay their respects to Emperor Zhengyuan.

After they rose, the Emperor smiled and said: “Look at these fine young talents. If not for the examination, I would never have known how many learned and gifted men are hidden among the common people!”

Li Shu raised her cup of clear wine to her lips, covering the sardonic curve of her mouth.

Oh, please. The “learned and gifted” Father Emperor meant was really just the one commoner — the top scholar Shen Xiao. The other scholars, born of noble houses — they were the compromise the Emperor had been forced to make with the great families.

Li Shu’s gaze moved from one new scholar to the next, landing especially on the middle figure in his plain cotton robe. Strange — the closer she looked, the more familiar he seemed.

Had she encountered this person somewhere before?

As she was puzzling over this, the three scholars had already paid their respects and were turning to withdraw.

Top scholar Shen Xiao passed before Li Shu’s seat. Li Shu sat holding her wine cup, brow deeply furrowed, staring at him with baffled intensity — as if she wanted to bore a hole straight through him.

Sensing Li Shu’s gaze, Shen Xiao’s stride hitched. His deep-set eyes and sharp nose tilted slightly as he glanced sidelong at Li Shu.

That one glance was caught squarely by Li Shu — and in that instant, she knew him.

Li Shu froze where she sat, as if struck by a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky. Memories from three years ago came crashing down on her all at once.

A mouthful of clear wine shot straight out of her mouth. “Hack — hack hack hack.”

Long brows. Thin lips. Black, dense lashes that he always preferred to keep lowered, veiling whatever dark and unreadable color lay in his eyes.

It was him — the man from three years ago, the one night she had shared her bed with before casting aside without a second thought!