For Pu Zhu, compared to receiving an audience with the Emperor and Empress Shangguan — whom she was familiar with — this upcoming summons from Grand Empress Dowager Jiang Shi, which had clearly changed from her previous life, was not something she dared approach with even a trace of carelessness.

The appointed hour for Jiang Shi’s summons into Penglai Palace was the afternoon. Even so, that morning she rose early, bathed slowly under Ju A’mu’s care, waited for her long hair to dry, then changed her garments. She put on a layer of plain silk inner garment, and over it a full wide-sleeved connected skirt in the shade of blue-green, the collar and cuffs embroidered with delicate and beautiful scroll floral patterns, a crimson sash tied at the waist. Since she was still an unmarried young lady, she wore no flower hairpins ornamented with gold, silver, and glass — the accessories of titled ladies. She simply gathered all her dark tresses up, revealing the long, white line of her neck. Once her hair was dressed, following the fashionable style currently in use among women of the capital, she placed a diamond-shaped vermilion mark on her plain forehead, and pinned a freshly cut crimson peony at her temple. The peony perfectly matched the color of the wide sash at her waist. Her skin glowed clear and luminous, and she stood graceful and upright.

After midday, the imperial carriage sent to fetch her drew up before the postal station. Ju A’mu saw her to the front gate, passed through the main hall, and all along the way, men turned to look twice.

She boarded the imperial carriage, and beneath Ju A’mu’s gaze — a gaze full of care and delight — set off toward Penglai Palace.

Pu Zhu remembered that in her previous life, Jiang Shi had received her in the Jade Virtue Hall, which she ordinarily used for audiences. But this time, though the elderly female official named Chen who led her inside was the same as before, the location was different.

She was brought to the Fragrant Forest Garden.

True to its name, the garden was the park and grounds of Penglai Palace — fragrant grasses lush and beautiful, a spring murmuring softly. Jiang Shi had finished her afternoon rest and was dressed in a half-worn everyday palace robe, seated on a brocade couch in an open-sided water pavilion with views in all directions. Huaiwei lay draped across her knees, twisting and wriggling without stop — clearly in the midst of wheedling about something. Across from them sat a palace-robed young woman of similar age to Pu Zhu — fair-skinned, with a delicately pointed chin and beautiful features — watching Huaiwei with a round fan held before her mouth as she laughed. The ten or so palace maids standing around were also giggling softly to themselves.

Jiang Shi too was smiling, the mood easy and harmonious.

The elderly female official Chen told Pu Zhu to wait a moment, then walked up ahead and said with a smile: “The young lady of the Pu Family has arrived.”

Huaiwei turned his head and immediately wriggled free from Jiang Shi’s arms, darting over in a flash, calling out happily: “You’re here! I asked Grandmother to let you come here to play, and Grandmother agreed! Come over here quickly!”

His manner was very warm and familiar.

The palace maids all stopped laughing and looked over.

The palace-robed young woman turned her head, her expression carrying a trace of surprise.

Pu Zhu did not dare presume on her position. She gave Huaiwei a polite smile and a nod. To forestall him from calling out anything else unsuitable to the occasion, she immediately dropped to her knees in the direction of the brocade couch, and bowed her head to the ground in respectful obeisance.

Jiang Shi’s expression showed nothing like surprise. She merely looked at Pu Zhu, gave a nod, and told her to rise and come forward, ordering someone to offer her a seat. A palace maid immediately brought a chair. Pu Zhu expressed her thanks respectfully.

Huaiwei followed them back and said: “Grandmother, then let her eat! I’ll just watch — I won’t eat. Is that alright?”

As the weather gradually turned warmer, the afternoon had begun to feel uncomfortably hot. Just now Huaiwei had eaten a little of the fruit chilled in the ice vessel, but not having encountered cold foods before, his mouth was still craving more. Jiang Shi would not let him have any more, and he had been wheedling and whining about it — then Pu Zhu’s arrival had interrupted him at just the right moment. Now he remembered and started coaxing again.

Jiang Shi had no choice, and smiled shaking her head, ordering someone to bring more. She said: “After this, it’s truly all gone. If you make a fuss again, Grandmother is going to be displeased.”

“I know, I know!”

Huaiwei nodded vigorously.

A palace maid quickly brought the fruit. Fresh, bright red cherries, golden loquats, brilliant red lychees — their shells still beaded with clear dew — altogether very enticing.

“Go ahead and eat,” said Jiang Shi.

Huaiwei gave enthusiastic nods, reached out his hand, then suddenly remembered something and said to Pu Zhu: “You eat too!”

Pu Zhu murmured softly: “Thank you, little prince. Please eat slowly, little prince.”

Jiang Shi looked at her with gentle and kind eyes, and smiled: “So you are Pu Youzhi’s granddaughter? How old are you this year?”

“Reporting to the Grand Empress Dowager — I turned sixteen just last month.”

Jiang Shi said: “A fine age — just like a flower in bloom. These years in He Xi must have been hard on you.”

Pu Zhu gave a brief account of how she had been taken in by Yang Hong after the general amnesty, bowed her head, and said: “It was not truly hard at all. Thank you for Your Majesty’s concern.”

Jiang Shi glanced at her, then asked about Yang Hong. Upon learning of his connection with Pu Zhu’s father, she sighed and said: “So that is how it was! He is a person of deep feeling and loyalty — truly admirable.” She also asked what he was doing now. Pu Zhu briefly described how he had risen in position, saying: “When I left to come to the capital, he held the rank of He Xi Xuanwei Commander.”

Jiang Shi said: “Loyal courage and integrity come first, and he has ability on top of that. A person like this will surely render great service to the court. Let him be seasoned for another two years — I think he would be capable of serving as He Xi Area Commander.”

Pu Zhu bowed in thanks: “I express my gratitude to the Grand Empress Dowager on behalf of Uncle Yang for her recognition of him.”

Jiang Shi then asked who else remained in her household. Pu Zhu mentioned Ju A’mu. When Jiang Shi learned that she had been mute from birth, had been by Pu Zhu’s side without fail since Pu Zhu was eight years old, and had never left, she showed visible signs of being moved. She asked where Ju A’mu was from and, upon being told she was from Wannian County in the Jingzhao area, turned to the elderly female official and said: “Bestow garments and gold silk upon her. Then have the Wannian County office make a record in her name — entry into the local gazetteer under the title of loyalty and righteousness.”

The elderly female official acknowledged the command. Pu Zhu quickly rose from her seat and knelt again, touching her forehead to the floor in gratitude.

Jiang Shi waved a hand: “A servant of such loyalty is a rare thing in this world. No praise is too much.”

Huaiwei, seated to one side, was dividing his attention between watching the two of them talk and eating his fruit. His mouth was stuffed full, and he mumbled indistinctly: “Grandmother, our place is so big — I want her to move here and live with us all together. Is that alright?”

Jiang Shi smiled and asked Pu Zhu: “What do you think?”

Pu Zhu knew perfectly well what this meant.

If Jiang Shi truly wished to keep her in Penglai Palace, she would simply say so directly — why would she ask her opinion?

She immediately said: “Thank you for the Grand Empress Dowager’s and the young prince’s kind intentions — it is more than I could ever hope for. However, Crown Prince Tutor Guo Lang and my grandfather were friends for half a lifetime. He and his wife regard me as their own child, and it has already been arranged that I will live in their home.”

Jiang Shi nodded: “That is well.” She turned to Huaiwei and said: “When you want to see her, you can often invite her to come here to play.”

Huaiwei was a little displeased, but at eight or nine years old he had some sense of propriety. Moreover, before setting out, his mother had repeatedly instructed him that he must listen to his grandmother and not make a fuss. He pouted and said: “Alright then. Mother told me to listen to Grandmother.”

Jiang Shi smiled and patted his round head.

Huaiwei seized the opportunity and said: “Then let her stay and play today!”

Jiang Shi looked toward Pu Zhu.

Pu Zhu hurriedly said: “I dare not impose upon the Grand Empress Dowager and the young prince.”

Jiang Shi said this time: “There is no need to be so constrained. It was hearing from Huaiwei that you two are acquainted that made me invite you in for a casual chat. It is indeed too quiet here — in ordinary days the people around me are few. There is only Ningfu near my side. You are of similar age — you may come often in the future, and it will liven things up a little here.”

Ningfu was the palace-robed young woman seated nearby.

Pu Zhu of course knew who she was. She was the daughter left behind by the former Crown Prince of the previous Liang dynasty — her name was Li Hui’er, and Ningfu was her commandery princess title. The former Crown Prince of Liang had committed a crime and taken his own life in years past, his Eastern Palace household destroyed in the aftermath. At the time she had been only six or seven years old, and had been taken in by Jiang Shi. For all these years she had lived with Jiang Shi in Penglai Palace.

Pu Zhu had little impression of her from her previous life, only feeling that she had a quiet personality, seemingly quite timid, and led a reclusive life, rarely going anywhere. After Jiang Shi passed away the following year, two years after the mourning period was fulfilled, Empress Shangguan had arranged her marriage — her husband’s family was a fallen old aristocratic clan. Given her particular circumstances, after losing Jiang Shi’s protection, which of the flourishing great families of the capital would have been willing to take her in? It seemed her husband had treated her poorly as well, and she had fallen ill and died within two years of marrying.

One could say that of all the ladies of the inner palace in her previous life, this daughter of the former Crown Prince of Liang was the one Pu Zhu had found merely passably acceptable, and for whom she felt some sympathy. But only that, and no more. After all, there had been no friendship between them, and at the time Pu Zhu herself had only been a Crown Princess of no great standing, walking on eggshells and watching her every step. It was all she could do to navigate things well for herself — how could she have had the energy or the means to concern herself with anyone else’s affairs?

Ningfu, hearing Jiang Shi mention her, quietly glanced at Pu Zhu and then dropped her eyes.

Huaiwei had finally finished eating. He let out a contented burp, accepted the damp cloth the palace maid offered him, wiped his hands, and was unable to sit still any longer. He called out for Pu Zhu to come outside and play, then added: “You come too.” He looked at Ningfu.

Jiang Shi smiled and nodded: “Go — be careful, you’ve just eaten, don’t go running wildly.”

Since Jiang Shi had given the word, Pu Zhu had no choice but to comply. Li Ningfu also rose and walked out, followed by a procession of palace maids, and the whole company moved in a grand procession to a pavilion nearby, set beside the water. Inside the pavilion was a game board. Huaiwei spotted it and immediately insisted on playing the board game.

Pu Zhu kept Huaiwei company through two rounds of play and lost both. Huaiwei was thrilled, convinced he was unrivaled under heaven. Pu Zhu glanced over at Li Ningfu sitting quietly to one side on a stone bench, and smiled: “I’m not very good at this — perhaps the commandery princess would be willing to play with you instead.”

Huaiwei was at the height of his enthusiasm and quickly called Li Ningfu over. Pu Zhu gave up her seat.

Huaiwei leaned over the table, playing the game in earnest with Li Ningfu. Pu Zhu looked toward the water pavilion not far across the way. Through the window, she could see that Jiang Shi had not left and was still reclining there, apparently resting with her eyes closed. Beside her, the old female official sat quietly keeping company. Suddenly a palace maid walked in — she seemed to say something — and after a moment, a strikingly beautiful woman, richly dressed with flower hairpins, came in accompanied by another person, bowed in greeting toward Jiang Shi, and called out a greeting of “Imperial Grandmother” before pointing to the person with her and saying with a smile: “Chijiao also hasn’t come to see you for some time, Your Old Majesty, and misses you dearly. Today he kept saying how much he wanted to see you, so I brought him along — so he could also show some filial devotion.”

Han Chijiao bowed and called out “Greetings, Imperial Great-Grandmother.”

The beautiful woman was Princess Imperial Shang Yang, named Li Lihua — daughter of the late Empress Dowager Chen, blood elder sister of Emperor Xiaochang. She had brought her son to pay a call on Jiang Shi. After calling out “Imperial Grandmother,” she pointed at her son and said smilingly the words already mentioned. Jiang Shi was, by the laws of ritual propriety, her legitimate mother’s elder. When Empress Dowager Chen had still been living, Princess Imperial Shang Yang had also often brought her son to Penglai Palace to show filial respect.

Jiang Shi had Han Chijiao rise from his bow, asked him a few questions about his recent affairs, and upon learning he had been diligently studying, smiled approvingly.

The princess laughed: “How could I allow him to receive such praise from Great-Grandmother — I’m afraid he’ll get complacent and slack off when he gets home. It’s only after Your Old Majesty’s words that he buckled down and applied himself seriously. The last time it was thanks to Your Old Majesty’s encouragement that he went home and settled his heart to study.”

Jiang Shi said: “Chijiao, if you truly listen to your great-grandmother, your great-grandmother will have a word with the Academy Libationer and have you taken on as a disciple. With his personal instruction, your studies will certainly improve.”

Han Chijiao had no heart for studying at all. Today he had only come because his mother had grabbed him by the ear and dragged him. Hearing this, his heart went cold with dread, and he quickly said: “The books at home are not yet finished — please let me finish reading them first, then Great-Grandmother can arrange for me to take on a teacher.”

The princess, afraid her son would make a further spectacle of himself, quickly shooed him off to one side. She then stepped forward and presented a small box she had brought, saying it contained two hundred-year-old ginseng roots she had obtained a few days prior, now specially sent as a token of her filial devotion.

Han Chijiao, on the path in as he entered, had already caught a glimpse of the group in the stone pavilion and, with sharp eyes, spotted Pu Zhu at a glance. Only now did he realize she had come to Penglai Palace today. His heart leapt with the feeling of good fortune. While his mother spoke with Jiang Shi, he quietly slipped back out. The moment he was outside, he ran straight toward the stone pavilion. When he drew near and was about to show himself, he noticed Huaiwei, and his steps faltered. He paused, hiding himself behind a cluster of branches at the water’s edge, and secretly peered at the people inside the pavilion.

The young lady of the Pu Family — in blue-green garments with a crimson sash, a vermilion mark at her forehead, peony flowers in her hair — looked very different from the other day, carrying another kind of beauty, the beauty of full adornment. He could see that she had left the pavilion and was now seated on a stone bench beside the water. The rippling light of the water nearby set off her already luminous complexion, making her whole person glow as if lit from within. Han Chijiao stared, transfixed, unable to move his eyes away for even a moment.

In her previous life, Pu Zhu had only gradually come to learn that in the matter of Li Chengyu being installed as Crown Princess, this Princess Imperial Shang Yang — who was the Crown Prince’s aunt — had secretly been involved. So just now, seeing her arrive, she had begun to pay attention to what was happening over there. At first the voices were muffled and she couldn’t make out much — it seemed to be idle small talk. But after a moment, the princess’s suddenly elevated voice drifted over.

“…I heard that he and his wife have actually been scheming to have his niece married to Chengyu again! If his niece were suitable it would be one thing, but look at what she looks like — and her conduct is entirely without propriety! I’ve heard that the Empress even brought her into the palace just two days ago, and had the Crown Prince go as well — arranged a meeting. Imperial Grandmother, what do you make of this? Chengyu’s previous wife was indeed Shangguan Yong’s daughter, but that is no reason why the Crown Princess must always come from the Shangguan family again! What does Shangguan Yong think he is doing — does he take this for the Shangguan family’s world?”

As she had expected — the princess had come to Penglai Palace today to speak about Li Chengyu’s marriage.

Pu Zhu then heard Jiang Shi’s voice drift over as well, low and not entirely clear, asking: “If Shangguan Yong’s niece is unsuitable, who do you think would be appropriate?”

The princess paused briefly, then said: “This is not really my affair — it is simply that I feel deep love for Chengyu, and out of concern I have let slip a few words. If one were to speak of a suitable candidate, I think the Yao family’s daughter would be fine.”

It was no secret that Princess Imperial Shang Yang Li Lihua and Li Chengyu’s mother Empress Shangguan were at odds with one another — it was common knowledge to all. The Yao family’s daughter she recommended was named Yao Hanzhen. In her previous life, after Pu Zhu had been made Crown Princess, Yao Hanzhen had not long afterward also entered the Eastern Palace as a secondary consort.

Jiang Shi was silent for a moment, then said: “Chengyu’s marriage — you should still go and consult the opinion of Jishan Palace.”

Jishan Palace was the residence of Empress Dowager Chen, located in Chang’an Palace.

The princess said: “Mother’s health has never been good. Besides, the elders being present, she has always shown the greatest respect for you — whatever you say, that is how it will be.”

Jiang Shi said: “I am old, and spend my days here doing nothing but dozing. I am no longer well-informed about affairs outside. If your mother has nothing to say either, then let the Emperor himself decide Chengyu’s marriage.”

The water pavilion fell quiet. After a moment, Pu Zhu heard the princess speak again — only this time, what she was speaking of was no longer Li Chengyu, but had turned to Li Xuandu.

Hearing this name, Pu Zhu’s heart gave a faint lurch. She held her breath and strained to catch the words drifting over from that direction.

“…My fourth younger brother should be back in a few days, shouldn’t he? I recently received a letter from my husband, and his praise of my fourth brother was very high indeed. To speak plainly though, not that I mean to excuse my husband — the chaos that broke out on the Tianshui side really was far greater than in He Xi. My husband was directing his forces, and just when they were about to capture the rebel prince, that treacherous man exploited the terrain and managed to escape. It was only after my fourth brother arrived, and working together with my husband, that the man was finally captured and the trouble brought to an end. My fourth brother’s merit this time is extraordinary — he must be richly rewarded!”

Jiang Shi’s voice was low and quiet, too difficult to make out what she said, but very quickly the princess’s clear voice carried over again: “…My fourth brother is not so young anymore. To be honest, watching him waste these years away has pained me greatly. I do not know how many tears I have shed — the thought of it grieves me to the heart. Thank heaven that it has all turned out well now! This time, taking advantage of the auspiciousness of your great birthday celebration, Imperial Grandmother, we must absolutely arrange a fine marriage for him. If this goes on any longer, it is truly unseemly…”

The princess was in the middle of speaking about Li Xuandu’s marriage, when all at once, a palace attendant came sprinting in from outside, heading straight for the water pavilion. Her expression was excited; quite forgetting the palace’s rules, she ran as she shouted: “Prince Qin has returned! Prince Qin has returned!” She called out twice, then looked up and saw the elderly female official Chen rushing out toward her. She fell to her knees at once in joy, touching her head to the ground with delight: “Reporting to Nanny Chen! Prince Qin has returned — he has come to see the Grand Empress Dowager! The Prince is already here!”