Now that she and Li Hui’er had gone to the pavilion on the water to keep the Empress Dowager company, it would not be appropriate for him to simply follow them in.
Li Xuandu stood in place for a moment, then walked over, bent down, and picked up the fish food pot she had left behind. He stood alone at the water’s edge, eyes fixed on the fish in the pond, and continued scattering food into the water—with no particular rhythm—gradually drifting into a reverie. He had no idea how much time passed when he suddenly noticed one of the goldfish was floating half-belly-up, its body struggling with some effort in the water, seemingly on the verge of turning completely upside down. He looked down at the pot and found the fish food inside was nearly all used up.
If he kept feeding them, he might well stuff to death these fat fish that had been pampered for who knew how many years.
He came back to his senses and quickly set down the fish food pot. Just then he heard someone call out to him from behind; turning, he saw Female Official Chen approaching. He immediately stepped forward to meet her.
Female Official Chen noticed a faint sheen of perspiration on his forehead and felt a pang of concern: “Your Highness, why are you still standing out here alone? Why didn’t you go inside?”
Li Xuandu smiled and said: “The last time I came to visit my Imperial Grandmother, I didn’t come over to look at these fish. Just now, passing by here, I was taken with a sudden impulse and fed them for a little while.”
Female Official Chen glanced at the fish pond and said with a smile: “Not to worry! Those precious fish you raised as a child—everyone here in the palace, from top to bottom, treats them like their masters. They’re attended to and provided for perfectly; no one would dare let them go hungry. Come along! Her Ladyship the Empress Dowager just asked after you—she said she’d clearly heard people say you’d already arrived, and wondered why you hadn’t come to see her yet.”
Li Xuandu cast a glance toward the pavilion at the front, then walked with a smile alongside Female Official Chen. He was half-minded to ask her about the young woman, yet found the question hard to form on his lips. He had taken a few steps when he heard Female Official Chen say of her own accord: “The Pu family’s daughter came today as well. She was just with the Princess keeping Her Ladyship company, and took her leave a moment ago. The Princess went to see her out.”
She had already left?
Li Xuandu paused almost imperceptibly. Inexplicably, a faint sense of disappointment rose in his heart.
“The Pu family? Pu Yuanqiao’s daughter?” He asked, following the thread of Female Official Chen’s conversation, in a tone meant to seem casual and offhand.
“That’s right.”
“Does she come to the Penglai Palace often?”
“She does indeed. Several years ago, she happened to come with her mother to call on Her Ladyship the Empress Dowager, and they ran into the Princess. The Princess felt an immediate affinity with her. Seeing that the Princess and the young lady got on so well, Her Ladyship began summoning her regularly to keep the Princess company. By now the two of them are as close as sisters. Her Ladyship is also quite fond of the Pu family’s daughter—she says it’s rare to find someone both so bold and so well-mannered. The Princess has spent time with her these past two years and her temperament has grown much more lively as a result; Her Ladyship is very pleased. Not only does she send for her every few days, sometimes she’ll even ask her to stay and sleep over for a few nights…”
Li Xuandu listened to Female Official Chen praise her without stopping, and felt a novel warmth—something almost like shared pride. He listened quietly all the way to the pavilion, where through the green gauze curtain at the entrance, he could see that the young woman’s figure was indeed already gone; only the Empress Dowager sat inside, along with several palace attendants.
He quickly composed himself, walked in with a smile, and bowed to pay his respects to the Jiang Empress Dowager.
The Empress Dowager smiled and beckoned for him to come sit beside her, asking a few questions about the Emperor bringing him to the Imperial Temple for the sacrificial ceremony. Li Xuandu answered each one in turn. Just as they were in conversation, the sound of light, quick footsteps came from behind; he turned his head, and saw his niece Li Hui’er enter.
Li Hui’er called out to her Fourth Imperial Uncle with a smile, gave her greetings, and then said to the Empress Dowager and Female Official Chen: “I’ve seen Jiejie out of the palace—she’s gone home.”
The Empress Dowager nodded with a smile, then looked at Li Xuandu and said: “That little girl from the Pu family—just now in my presence she mentioned that she’d run into you by the fish pond, said she hadn’t seen you in so many years, she almost didn’t recognize you.”
Li Xuandu’s heart gave a startled jump. He had not expected at all that she would bring up running into him in front of the Empress Dowager. He hesitated a moment, then responded with studied casualness: “I did run into a young woman over there just now. At first I thought it was Hui’er—then the moment she saw me, she ran off.”
The Empress Dowager said: “I was curious too, so I asked her how she came to know you. She said that when she was small, her father went on a diplomatic mission, and she went chasing after him out of the city gate without knowing any better—and happened to run into you. You were the one who sent her home. So she remembered you.”
“Fourth Imperial Uncle, I had no idea you and Jiejie had known each other for so long!” Li Hui’er said, eyes wide with delight.
For some reason, Li Xuandu felt a twinge of guilt—his heart beat faster, his ears grew faintly warm—as though he had done something wrong. He feigned composure and smiled: “Did she say anything else?”
“Jiejie only said that much,” Li Hui’er replied.
Li Xuandu quietly let out a slow breath. Before he could fully steady himself, he heard the Empress Dowager murmur with a sigh: “This little girl is nearly at her fourteenth birthday now; after that birthday, she’ll truly be a grown young woman. How fast time passes. I remember when she first came to the palace years ago, she was still a small child—and in the blink of an eye, she’s old enough to be betrothed.”
At that moment a palace maid brought in tea. Female Official Chen personally carried a cup to Li Xuandu’s side and added: “Isn’t that right? You don’t feel yourself getting older, but the young girls—you look away for a moment and they’ve shot up grown. She’s already of the age to be discussing a marriage!”
Li Xuandu’s heart gave another small jolt. Just then he heard Li Hui’er ask: “Great-Grandmother, a few days ago the Princess came into the palace to see you and asked you to intervene so that Jiejie would marry Cousin Han—I was listening outside and overheard. You won’t agree to it, will you?”
“That match is not suitable!”
Li Xuandu blurted it out without a thought. The words were out before he registered what he was saying. He looked up to find every pair of eyes in the room turned toward him. He paused, and explained in a voice he forced to calm: “Chijiao’s temperament is far too rash. Just looking at him, I can tell he and the Pu family’s girl don’t suit each other.”
The Empress Dowager nodded: “Quite right—that was my thought as well. I didn’t agree to it at the time. To be honest, I think it would be doing the girl a disservice to betroth her to Chijiao.”
Li Xuandu quietly let out another slow breath.
Female Official Chen glanced at the Empress Dowager, then turned to Li Xuandu with a smile: “Your Highness mustn’t think me meddlesome for saying so. Your Highness is no longer young, and this is different from before—the war in the north is over, you’re back in the capital, and it’s time to be discussing marriage yourself. Does Your Highness have anyone suitable in mind?”
Li Xuandu’s heart gave another jolt. He looked up and saw his grandmother watching him with a smile as well. He said vaguely: “I haven’t given this any thought just yet…”
Female Official Chen shook her head: “Your Highness really ought to!”
Li Xuandu deflected a few more times, kept the Empress Dowager company for a little while longer in conversation, and then took his leave and departed. After Female Official Chen saw him out of the palace gate, he had walked some distance when it occurred to him that he had left some books in the study of the sleeping quarters he had occupied here back in the day—there were a few he wanted to take back. So he returned, walking straight back into the palace and heading toward his old quarters.
The way to his former rooms passed by the fish pond. As he drew near, he saw the Empress Dowager being supported by Female Official Chen; the two of them had walked out of the pavilion over the water and were strolling toward the fish pond.
He was just about to go up and greet her when he caught the faint sound of Female Official Chen’s low voice: “Your Ladyship—just now a thought suddenly occurred to me. I feel that the Pu family’s girl and His Highness Prince Qin are rather a good match. The young lady is someone Your Ladyship has watched grow up—her looks, her talents, her family background are all of the finest, and her temperament goes without saying. Moreover, that little girl had her encounter with His Highness when she was small—that’s a sort of predestined connection, isn’t it?”
Li Xuandu came to a sudden halt, his whole body flushing with heat. He heard his grandmother’s quiet laugh: “…They are a fine match, I like that girl too. Only—Yuli’er probably has no such thoughts toward her. Let it be; no need to mention it in front of him. It would only make him uncomfortable. After all, there’s a considerable difference in their ages—he wouldn’t look at a child like that.”
Li Xuandu stood in place quietly for a moment. He watched as the Empress Dowager and Female Official Chen seemed to speak of it only as a passing fancy, quickly skipping over the subject to something else. Not daring to let them know he had been there, he suppressed the desolate, bereft feeling that had risen in his chest, decided against retrieving the books, and slowly retreated—then walked straight out of the palace and left.
That night he was actually unable to sleep. He lay awake for a long time, unable to drift off. When he closed his eyes, the scene of the chance encounter with her by the fish pond that day played out in his mind unbidden, leaving him restless and distracted. At court the next morning he was distracted and silent throughout; once the session broke up, he saw Pu Yuanqiao finish talking with several colleagues he was friendly with and bow farewell as though about to leave. He hurriedly extracted himself from the people gathered around him speaking, and went after Pu Yuanqiao, hailing him with a smile.
Pu Yuanqiao saw that it was him and his expression also broke into a smile. Li Xuandu walked alongside him heading out of the palace, and after a few casual exchanges said: “General, you seem to have something weighing on you. I see you looking quite troubled.”
Since returning home, Pu Yuanqiao had indeed been somewhat vexed. Since he and Prince Qin were well acquainted and he had long privately come to regard him as a friend despite the difference in their ages, seeing him bring it up, Pu Yuanqiao didn’t hide it either, and laid out what was troubling him.
It turned out that Princess Li Lihua had taken a fancy to his daughter and was sending people calling at the door to propose a match with some frequency—with a certain air of being determined to have her way. In itself this was nothing, but he had heard that Li Lihua had recently been making frequent visits to the Penglai Palace, and both he and Meng Shi were a little worried: they feared that if Li Lihua were to go before the Empress Dowager and request a marriage through her, and the Empress Dowager were to speak up, the matter would become awkward.
“Your Highness mustn’t misunderstand—it is not that this official holds Young Master Han in low regard. I simply feel he and my daughter are not well suited…” He said as much and then, afraid that Prince Qin might feel protective of his nephew and take offense, added an explanation. But Prince Qin’s response was: “General, put your mind at rest—nothing of that sort will happen. If you have no wish for a match with the Han family, simply say so and decline directly!” Then, seeing Pu Yuanqiao watching him, he immediately told him the whole account of what he had said in the Empress Dowager’s presence the day before.
Pu Yuanqiao could finally breathe easy. He was deeply grateful and thanked him with repeated bows.
Li Xuandu smiled: “No need for thanks. The General and I have worked together for many years. So long as it is something I can help with, the General need only say the word.”
Pu Yuanqiao thanked him once more.
Li Xuandu waved his hand dismissively: “Yesterday at my grandmother’s, I heard that besides my elder Imperial Sister, several other families have also expressed interest in seeking your daughter’s hand. Has the General anyone in mind?”
Pu Yuanqiao no longer kept anything from him. He went through the families one by one, then said: “Those young gentlemen are all naturally outstanding in their various ways—the question is which one suits my daughter best. I have been away from home so many years that I am not very well acquainted with the details of the various capital families. Fortunately my wife has long been making inquiries. Looking it all over, it seems the heir of Marquis Qiyang and Prince Duan’s grandson are both quite good candidates—we are still considering.”
Li Xuandu said: “The heir is indeed a man of outstanding gifts. Only, the Marquis’s household is complex in its relationships—just the brothers alone number seven or eight, not to mention all the collateral branches. Should your daughter marry in, she will likely find it exhausting to manage everything. “
Pu Yuanqiao nodded repeatedly: “Quite so! My wife has that concern as well. So from what she’s said, Prince Duan’s grandson is perhaps the more suitable of the two. Once we have made up our minds, we will speak to our daughter and see what she herself thinks.”
Li Xuandu hesitated, and finally added: “Li Ding is a fine choice too. I happened to meet him in Prince Duan’s Manor just two days ago. There is one point, however—he does not reside permanently in the capital, but has been following his parents in their post outside the city. If the General were to arrange this match, your daughter would in all likelihood have to leave the capital one day to attend her parents-in-law. And from what I could hear in his manner of speaking, he is also a young man of great ambition—he has no wish to trade on his family name to idle away his days in the capital. In that case, if he passes the examinations in the future, by the court’s usual practice he will first be sent to an outer posting as well. The General knows how it goes—officials sent out of the capital can find themselves posted south for several years, then north for several more, far from the capital. Your daughter, let alone returning home often to visit her family—if she could manage to see them once every few years, that would be considered good fortune.”
Pu Yuanqiao had not considered this angle at all; he was struck by it, and it touched a tender spot. He thought of his own years of traveling east and west, separated from his wife and daughter for long stretches at a time, and the ache of longing for family—no one knew that pain more deeply than he did.
His cherished daughter, married far from the capital, unable to see her own family even once in several years?
His brow furrowed immediately; he fell into a brooding silence.
Li Xuandu, seeing him fall quiet, gave a mild cough: “I say this only out of good will, as a friendly reminder. But this is your daughter’s lifelong happiness at stake—the General should still go home and deliberate carefully with your wife.”
Pu Yuanqiao agreed, said he was most thoughtful, thanked him warmly, and without realizing it they had emerged from the palace gate as they talked. After saying their goodbyes, Pu Yuanqiao hurried straight home.
Li Xuandu watched his departing figure and stood a moment in thought. Then, on a sudden impulse, he beckoned to Luo Bao. When the man trotted over, he asked: “How are the peonies at the An’guo Temple? Are they in bloom?”
Luo Bao said: “Blooming splendidly! These are exactly the best days to view them. Word is the place is packed with people every day—absolutely wall-to-wall!”
Li Xuandu told his escort to bring his horse; with one fluid vault he was mounted. He wheeled the horse around and galloped straight back toward the Penglai Palace.
…
In the afternoon, bright sunlight streamed in from above the covered walkway; the courtyard was full of birdsong and the scent of flowers.
Pu Zhu stood under the covered walkway feeding Golden-Eye Slave strips of meat, when a serving girl came in from outside the courtyard and handed her a letter, saying the Princess had just sent someone to deliver it.
Pu Zhu opened it. It was Li Hui’er saying she wanted to go to the An’guo Temple the next day to view the peonies, and inviting her to come along. She also mentioned that her Fourth Imperial Uncle would personally escort them, and asked whether she wanted to go.
Pu Zhu read the letter, and her thoughts drifted to her unexpected encounter with him at the Penglai Palace two days before. She was still slightly absorbed when the sound of footsteps came from behind; she turned and saw her mother, along with A’Ju and the others. She went to meet them.
Meng Shi came close with a smile, leaned in and said softly in her daughter’s ear: “Good news! Your father says His Highness Prince Qin spoke up with the Empress Dowager on your behalf, so Her Ladyship won’t interfere in that matter. You can put your mind at rest!”
Pu Zhu pressed her lips together in a smile.
Meng Shi, still speaking, noticed the letter in her daughter’s hand and asked about it. Pu Zhu passed it to her.
Meng Shi took one look and immediately said: “Since the Princess is inviting you, of course you should go. And besides, with His Highness Prince Qin escorting you, Mother has no worries at all.”
That evening, Pu Zhu lay alone on the bed in her maiden’s room. The curtain lowered, she gazed at the rabbit lantern hanging at the head of her bed and couldn’t help smiling quietly to herself.
She had a feeling. The fact that Li Hui’er had suddenly sent her a letter today inviting her to go view the flowers at the An’guo Temple the next day—it had to be connected to Li Xuandu.
This filled her with quiet delight.
Had he finally realized she had grown up, that she was of an age to be married—that she was no longer the small girl she had once been?
But her mother truly trusted him completely.
If one day she found out, who knew what her expression would be.
This rabbit lantern—the one he had bought her on the Lantern Festival night when she was eight years old—every year at the Lantern Festival she would make a point of having it re-papered. Even though so much time had passed, it still looked exactly as it had the day he first gave it to her. For so many years, every night before she went to sleep she would look at it, and every morning when she woke up and opened her eyes, it was the first thing she saw.
She reached out a finger and poked the rabbit’s little three-petaled mouth. She closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
The next morning she woke early, and had barely finished dressing and making herself up when a serving girl called Huaxian came rushing in from outside, saying His Highness Prince Qin had arrived with the Princess—the carriage was already waiting outside the main gate, and Madam was asking her to come out.
Pu Zhu’s heart gave a startled leap; she actually felt a flicker of nervous embarrassment. She took a quick glance at herself in the bronze mirror.
Her hair was pinned with a decorative flower made of grass and beetle-wing jewels—a festive seasonal touch. She wore a soft crepe jacket in water-green, the hem embroidered with trailing branches and tender leaves, with a small jade-colored cape draped over her shoulders.
The girl in the mirror was at the first bloom of her early teens—every inch of her a darling daughter in her prime, charming and lovely, brimming with the fresh, radiant vitality of a young girl.
She steadied herself, and walked quickly outside.
Her mother Meng Shi was also coming this way; seeing her daughter emerge from the room, she looked her over with a sweep of her eyes, then smiled and brought her out to the front, to the gate.
Outside the main gate of the Pu household, two carriages stood waiting. The one in front was larger; Li Hui’er was seated inside it. The rear carriage carried the palace attendants who had come along. Beside the carriages stood a tall, slender figure—Li Xuandu.
Meng Shi led her daughter out. Pu Zhu saw what appeared to be Li Xuandu’s gaze turning toward her; she was suddenly flushed with shyness, her heart pattering. She dropped her head, eyes fixed on the ground, ears filled with nothing but her mother beside her speaking an unbroken stream of courteous words—asking him to take care of her daughter.
Li Xuandu smiled: “Madam needn’t be polite. Please rest assured—when the flowers have been viewed, I will personally see your daughter home.”
Meng Shi thanked him over and over again, at last finished with her courtesies, and sent her daughter to the carriage.
Pu Zhu stepped up on the footstool and climbed into the carriage. The carriage then set off, rolling along on its way toward the eastern part of the city.