Having parted with Cui Jinzhi, Li Shu returned to her room. The first thing she did was spread her arms wide, and the serving girls hurried to undo her outer robe. The magnificent gold-embroidered peony gown was lifted away with careful hands and hung upon the garment stand, where it blazed brilliantly in the lamplight.

Li Shu let out a long breath of relief. With the heavily embroidered outer robe removed, she felt her whole body lighten considerably.

This garment had quite a distinguished history. It was made from the finest crepe silk — a tribute fabric from Jiangnan — that had been presented to the court the previous year. Only a single bolt had been allocated to the rear palace, and the Empress had at once bestowed it on Princess Anle. Princess Anle had a fondness for extravagant dress, and so the palace embroiderers had worked day and night to embroider it with a pattern of solitary medallion florals paired with facing peacocks. Princess Anle had loved the result dearly, and wore it without fail at every major palace banquet.

Anle and Li Shu had never been on good terms, and so Anle had taken to wearing that gown with its solitary medallion peacock design and parading it before Li Shu at every opportunity until Li Shu’s eyes swam with the pattern. It was deeply tiresome.

The Emperor had evidently noticed that Anle’s behavior was becoming too ostentatious, and feeling sympathy for Li Shu — who was not a daughter born of the legitimate wife — he had specially drawn from his own private treasury an identical bolt of the same crepe silk. And so Li Shu came to possess this gold-embroidered peony gown.

In truth, Li Shu truly did not feel much envy or resentment about it — she only thought Anle childish. What she was competing for was never clothes and jewels, but power and position in the court.

The gown was precious and a nuisance to put on, and Li Shu rarely wore it. Hong Luo carefully smoothed the fabric and put it away, then said with a trace of puzzlement, “Your Highness — it was only an eighth-rank official. Was it really worth wearing this gown?”

Hong Luo simply felt Shen Xiao was unworthy of seeing that gown.

Li Shu sat before her dressing table while a serving girl came forward to wipe her face and remove her cosmetics. She replied with languid ease, “It was nothing more than wanting to project authority from the start.” The gown was magnificent and precious — it could overawe people. Otherwise, was she to go and meet Shen Xiao dressed in a plain Songjiang cotton robe?

As it turned out, her display of authority had been entirely wasted — after all that questioning, it emerged that there had been no one behind Shen Xiao directing him at all. He was nothing more than a headstrong, idealistic scholar who wanted to speak justice on behalf of the world.

Hong Luo tucked away the gold-embroidered peony gown with great care, then came to the dressing table and took over from the other serving girls, beginning to take down Li Shu’s hair. Li Shu had grown somewhat drowsy by now, her eyes half-closed. Without those sharp and piercing eyes, this face appeared far more delicate and gentle. Those eyes were too penetrating — they always seemed to see through a person’s very soul.

Just then Li Shu said, “Hong Luo — what are you thinking about?”

Hong Luo gave a start. “Your…Your Highness?”

Li Shu opened her eyes and smiled at Hong Luo in the bronze mirror. “You’ve been taking down my hair and watching me at the same time. What’s on your mind?”

Hong Luo smiled a little too. “It’s nothing… I just, just…” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’ve been thinking about what Your Highness said to the Prince Consort just now.”

That line about “toward a lover I have always been gentle.”

Li Shu said with a laugh, “What of it — am I not allowed to have a lover?”

Hong Luo shook her head quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

That was certainly not what Hong Luo meant. She had followed at Li Shu’s side for seven or eight years now, and she knew that Li Shu had no one to truly confide in, while the Prince Consort remained at odds with the Princess on account of Qing Luo. If the Princess truly could find someone to care for her through both warmth and cold, Hong Luo would of course be glad.

Hong Luo said, “But you clearly have no such feelings toward that Surveillance Censor, Shen Daren — so why say that to the Prince Consort?”

Li Shu fell silent upon hearing this.

Why indeed?

At the bottom of her heart, she had never truly let go. If she had truly let go of Cui Jinzhi, why would she have needed another man to provoke him on purpose?

But this was Cui Jinzhi — how could she let go of him? He was the one vibrant youth in a barren and deserted palace who had taken her hand and led her step by step out of the Cold Palace, who had taught her, step by step, to understand the warmth and coldness of the world. Without him, she would not be the person she was today. He was a thorn that had grown into the very fabric of her blood — how could it be cut away?

Seeing that Li Shu remained silent for a long while, Hong Luo knew she had touched upon something painful. The feelings between the Princess and the Prince Consort were truly a tangled thing that could not be cut clean or smoothed straight. Even an onlooker could not see it clearly — let alone the one caught within it.

Hong Luo sighed inwardly and focused on carefully undoing Li Shu’s hairstyle. The last pin she removed was a plain, modest gold hairpin, which she set down on the table. Amid a full display of red carnelian agate and green jadeite and gleaming gold ornaments, that one gold hairpin lay quietly to one side, dull and unassuming.

*

Several more days passed. This day fell on the fifteenth of the third month — the birthday of Crown Princess Zheng Shi. The Cui family was a firmly established member of the Crown Prince’s faction, and this was an occasion not to be missed. The elderly Duke of the Cui family had long since retired from politics, so only Cui Jinzhi and Li Shu went to attend the banquet.

They entered the palace first to pay their respects to the Empress, then proceeded to the Eastern Palace. A junior eunuch led Cui Jinzhi away to where the Crown Prince was receiving his guests, while Li Shu was taken by a serving girl to the Crown Princess’s chambers.

The company was sparse at this early hour — only a few of the less favored concubines in the rear palace had arrived, along with some aristocratic ladies from noble families, all sitting in a constellation around the Crown Princess. Grand Princess Kangning, Princess Anle, the Second Imperial Prince’s consort, and others had not yet arrived.

Li Shu had barely stepped through the palace doors when she heard the Crown Princess’s voice. “Has my younger sister Pingyang arrived?” The warmth in her voice could not have been greater.

Before the words had even faded, the Crown Princess had already risen from the seat of honor and come forward several quick steps to welcome Li Shu, taking her by the hands before Li Shu could even offer a bow. “Here you are at last — I’ve been waiting for you such a long time!” Truly, they might have been the closest of sisters who had not seen each other in years.

Crown Princess Zheng Shi was from the Zheng family of Xingyang — the legitimate granddaughter of the current Left Minister of the Chancellery. Among the Seven Clans and Ten Families, all centuries-old great aristocratic houses, intermarriage between the families themselves was the norm; they rarely married daughters outside the circle. That Crown Princess Zheng Shi had married the Crown Prince could fairly be called a match of equals.

Whether because of the Zheng family of Xingyang at her back or not, the Crown Prince had never taken so much as a single consort or concubine in more than seven years of marriage to the Crown Princess.

The assembled aristocratic ladies all rose to bow to Li Shu. Several of the less favored princesses exchanged glances with expressions that were difficult to read — look at her, they thought, Cold Palace born, lowly illegitimate daughter, yet ever since marrying the legitimate eldest son of the Cui family, her social standing had soared, until now she stood on equal footing with Princess Anle, born of the legitimate Empress, and even the Crown Princess came to receive her in person. How times had changed.

After today, countless mothers throughout the realm would inevitably take their daughters by the ear and remind them what an important thing it was to “marry a man with power and influence.”

The Crown Princess quickly took Li Shu’s hand and settled her down beside herself. She appraised Li Shu with a glance and smiled at the assembled company. “You see — I always said Pingyang knows how to dress herself beautifully. A different set of hair ornaments every day. Just look at this set she’s wearing today — truly lovely.”

Li Shu laughed. “Oh, this set? It was only just finished a few days ago. I recently came across a jade craftsman with real skill in his hands, and I had a special set made up. I’ve already prepared one to send to you.”

The Crown Princess did not refuse, and laughed behind her hand. “Then it is I, the elder sister-in-law, who will be accepting gifts from my younger sister-in-law — rather shameless of me.”

Li Shu laughed too. “You are the guest of honor today — I would have been giving this to you regardless. What is there of yours and mine between us?”

The Crown Princess said, “Then I shall accept gratefully. Speaking of which — I’m having summer garments made, and I have a bolt of tribute-quality Shu brocade from Sichuan — crimson red, glowing like clouds and sunset, truly beautiful. I had originally meant to have a dress made for myself, but when I held it up against myself I didn’t think it would look well, and I think your fair complexion suits that true crimson far better. I’ll have a junior eunuch bring it around to your mansion before long.”

Li Shu laughed and played along warmly. “Then I shall accept it without standing on ceremony.”

The noble ladies in attendance all chimed in, saying Princess Pingyang and the Crown Princess were quite the finest pair of sisters-in-law one could wish for. But beneath the surface their glances met each other’s, and what they each privately thought was the same — changing to a new set of ornaments every single day, Princess Pingyang truly cannot shake that nouveau riche habit.

To call Li Shu nouveau riche was, in fact, no deliberate slander — Li Shu genuinely had a fondness that was not easy to conceal: she loved money. She loved money deeply, intensely, and passionately.

Li Shu had a food stipend of ten thousand bushels — rivaling, among all the princesses, only Princess Anle, the daughter born of the legitimate Empress, in terms of how highly the Emperor valued them.

Then there was the Cui family, which had accumulated wealth over several centuries: fields and properties too numerous to count, and Cui Jinzhi being the only legitimate son of his generation, all the family assets fell to him to inherit. As the legitimate daughter-in-law, and with Cui Jinzhi having been a careless spendthrift in his younger days who had no head for managing money, Li Shu had ended up managing the better half of the Cui family’s finances.

Li Shu was both shrewd and daring, and she had been conducting various commercial ventures on the side for years. Her private wealth had been multiplying several times over each year.

Among all of Chang’an, the most magnificent and lavish was Princess Pingyang’s mansion. Rumors had even spread through the common quarters that Princess Pingyang’s mansion had gold bricks for flooring and gold foil on the walls. Though Li Shu did not particularly love extravagant clothing, she was very fond of hair ornaments and jewelry of all descriptions — even the Empress’s collection was likely not a match for Princess Pingyang’s.

The hair ornaments Li Shu was wearing today were a freshly made set, finished just a few days before: carnelian agate carved blood-red into hairpins and ear ornaments, set against bright crimson lip color, and complemented by that pair of sharp and piercing eyes — beautiful, to be sure, but beautiful in a way that was always somewhat cold and striking.

Several of the less favored princesses in the rear palace kept their eyes on Li Shu’s ornaments, their gazes heavy with envy. As for the noble ladies from the great aristocratic families — envious they were too, yet their envy was laced with a faint thread of disdain.

Look at her — so what if she’s in favor now? What a nouveau riche sensibility. Carnelian agate made into hair ornaments, fine enough — but why must she stick a gold hairpin in alongside it, and such a plain and shabby gold hairpin at that? Has she no shame?

The great aristocratic clans valued refined elegance. Wealth was of course indispensable, but a surfeit of wealth alone was vulgar — and so the word “refined” was added, making it “refined elegance,” something that could not be cultivated in under a hundred years. Cui Jinzhi was the very model of refined elegance — his everyday clothing and effects, however one looked at them, were half-new and somewhat worn, yet each piece was a rare and distinguished object that no amount of money could simply buy.

Li Shu had privately reflected on this more than once: perhaps it was precisely these differences between them that led Cui Jinzhi to hold little affection for her, and perhaps he privately found her taste rather common.

The Crown Princess and Li Shu had exchanged another round of warm pleasantries when suddenly a serving girl at the door announced: “We welcome Princess Anle.”

The Crown Princess at once smiled at Li Shu. “My younger sister Anle has come late today — I shall have to give her a good penalty!” With that she released Li Shu’s hand and went to the door. The assembled ladies all followed the Crown Princess out to receive Princess Anle, laughing and making a gay commotion of it.

Li Shu smiled serenely, remaining in her seat without budging. The Crown Princess was exceedingly accomplished at managing people and relationships; she knew that Li Shu and Anle were not on friendly terms, and to suddenly abandon Li Shu and go welcome Anle would be sure to offend her. Yet after all, Anle was her own true blood sister-in-law — to not go receive her would be equally awkward. And so she had dispatched the whole matter lightly with a single word: “penalty.”

Everyone went to the palace doors to receive Anle, and Li Shu felt as though she finally drew her first real breath of the day. She couldn’t help but inhale deeply and rub her face. Having exchanged only two or three lines with the Crown Princess, she felt as though she had spent her entire year’s reserve of smiles, her cheeks aching with the effort.

Over there, the Crown Princess and Anle laughed and made merry together, and Anle’s bright, clear voice drifted over: “Sister-in-law, I was late — spring drowsiness, you know — I simply could not get up this morning.” Everyone who heard it laughed.

The Crown Princess laughed too. “You — so lazy.”

Anle was only one year younger than Li Shu, yet having always been sheltered and well protected, even though she was nineteen now, her manner and bearing were still those of a girl who had not yet left her maiden home — everything she said and did carried the guileless charm of someone untouched by the world.

Listening to this, Li Shu showed a soundless smile of her own. Even though it was common knowledge that she and Anle were not on good terms, and Anle had never liked her, Li Shu sometimes genuinely envied Anle.

To be able to express the feelings in one’s heart freely and openly, within the heavy walls of the rear palace — that was worth more than any jewel or ornament.