Three days later, the weather cooperated splendidly — a clear, crisp autumn day. Before the fifth watch of the night, over a thousand soldiers drawn from the Tiger-Valor and Dragon-Majestic Guards of the Northern Imperial Army had assembled in the plaza before Vermilion Sparrow Gate, the main entrance to the imperial palace. The soldiers’ armor gleamed bright, their ranks spread out like stars, their halberds flashing like lightning.

This was the day the Emperor would lead his entourage on the autumn imperial hunt. By the fourth hour, the Emperor’s grand procession would depart from this gate and head north toward the hunting grounds.

At the fifth watch, the various mounted escorts within the capital began arriving one by one. Under the direction of the ceremonial officials, each took their designated positions and waited for the imperial procession to depart.

Among those selected to accompany the hunt were princes and imperial clansmen, the Nine Ministers and great officials, officials from various government offices, sons of noble houses from ducal, marquis, and earl families, young men of powerful households, princes from Persia, Khotan, and Baole who were studying or residing in the capital, and many noble ladies of the capital. The retinue was vast to begin with, and when one added the personal attendants of each person, the procession spread across the entire plaza. After dawn, the imperial avenue leading out from the plaza was filled with fluttering banners, gleaming jade-white horses, and fragrant carriages with precious saddles — a spectacle of grandeur and solemn majesty rarely seen in ordinary days.

As full daylight arrived and all the escort personnel had taken their positions around the plaza, a distant sound of golden drums and bells from the direction of the imperial palace signaled that the Emperor’s procession was about to depart. Everyone stood at solemn attention.

At the fourth hour, a six-horse golden imperial carriage with a round canopy and square platform, escorted by ceremonial guards in front and behind and one hundred twenty Feathered Forest Guards, emerged from within the palace gates and came into view.

Sunlight played upon the intricately carved gold cloud-and-eave decorations around the carriage roof and the ornamental golden dragon heads at both ends of the shafts, flashing and glittering with golden brilliance.

This was the imperial carriage of Emperor Xiaochang. Instantly, cries of ‘Long live the Emperor!’ surged like mountain torrents and ocean waves, reverberating through the imperial palace and flooding into Pu Zhu’s ears.

Because of a single word from Jiang Shi, she had finally gotten her wish and was able to make this journey today.

For this outing, the Empress remained behind to oversee the central palace. The Noble Consort Hu accompanied the Emperor to the traveling palace. Noble Consort Hu’s palace carriage went first, followed by the Crown Prince’s consort, and then the red-wheeled carriage carrying Pu Zhu. Inside the carriage with her were Huaiwei and Li Hui’er.

Originally thinking she would not be able to go, it had been unexpected news when, just before departure, they learned she was coming after all. Both Huaiwei and Li Hui’er had been overjoyed, and now sat on either side of her. Hearing the movements outside, Huaiwei could not contain her curiosity and secretly pulled open a corner of the carriage curtain to peer out, exclaiming: ‘So many people! Nothing but people everywhere!’

Li Hui’er had not left the Penglai Palace for many years. Though she had Jiang Shi’s protection, her unusual status had made her cautious and timid, always restraining herself, and in the past she had not dared to easily reveal her inner emotions. But today she was genuinely happy, especially after learning that her fourth aunt-by-marriage would be traveling with her — it was as though she now had a backbone to lean on. Her face carried the lively smile appropriate for a girl her age. Seeing Huaiwei’s head poking further and further out the window, she hurriedly tugged at him, urging him to sit back down — it would look bad if others saw.

Huaiwei was finally pulled back and described the magnificent scene outside to the two of them. Then, thinking of Li Xuandu, he felt somewhat displeased with him and complained: ‘Fourth Brother is so terrible — this is such a fun outing and everyone is going, yet he actually refused to let Sister-in-law come! It’s a good thing Great-grandmother is kind, otherwise Huier and I would have no one to keep us company. When we get there, Sister-in-law, don’t pay any attention to him. Just stay with us!’

Li Hui’er also hoped she could stay together with her fourth aunt-by-marriage, but at her age she was old enough to understand something of social propriety, so she hurriedly tugged at Huaiwei again, gesturing for him not to say such things and make it difficult for Fourth Aunt.

‘I’m going to say it anyway! I’ve long found him unpleasant to look at! Sister-in-law, you certainly don’t want to stay with him either. Don’t worry, Sister-in-law — if he wants you to stay with him when we get there, I’ll block him for you!’

Whether in her previous life or this one, Pu Zhu had always been quite confident in her own beauty. But since marrying Li Xuandu, her confidence had begun to waver. If one could say that the first incident at the Falcon Terrace had been purely accidental, then a few nights before his departure, she had gone so far as to throw herself into his arms and deliberately seduce him — and yet he had still sat unmoved, ultimately sending her off to sleep on her own.

Honestly speaking, Pu Zhu’s self-confidence had suffered a tremendous blow in that moment. Though afterward she still comforted herself with the excuse that his eyesight was poor, in her heart Pu Zhu had already begun to analyze the situation in secret: the reason he behaved that way was either that his abilities in that regard were questionable, or that he truly had not the slightest interest in her — considering that she had clearly sensed his body had already responded at the time, only one possibility remained: he had no interest in her, harbored deep aversion toward her, and though her seduction had produced a physical response, it was evidently nothing more than a man’s natural reaction upon having a woman draw so close.

In a situation like that, he would have had the same reaction to any other woman.

Even so, with matters already at that point — like an arrow ready on the bowstring — merely because she had stopped taking the initiative, he had simply let the matter drop.

That was the greatest humiliation a man could inflict upon a woman, and it had severely damaged her confidence in herself.

Fortunately, she had never made any plans for the two of them to grow old together in loving companionship.

Forget it. Let him be.

In her previous life, Li Chengyu had naturally brought her along on this autumn hunt as well, so Pu Zhu knew the accommodation situation at the hunting grounds. Since they were staying outside the capital in attendance on the imperial procession, many of the accompanying married couples would not necessarily be lodging together.

Her coming this time already went against his wishes, and since he harbored such aversion toward her, he certainly would not take the initiative to have her stay with him. As for those few days when it would be most convenient for her to take action — if she could be with him, that would naturally be best, but if not, it would also be fine. After all, the main purpose for which she had gone to such lengths to come here was for Huaiwei’s sake.

‘All right, I’ll stay with you two.’

Having thought it through, Pu Zhu smiled serenely.

General Shen Yang of the Southern Command was responsible for security along the Emperor’s route. Riding his horse as he patrolled the procession, he passed by this red-wheeled carriage and faintly heard the sound of laughter floating out from within.

He knew that the Prince of Qin’s consort was seated in this carriage.

With an expressionless face, he fixed his gaze for a moment on the closed red curtain, then urged his horse onward past the carriage.

The Emperor’s procession, given the enormous number of people involved, moved slowly — traveling roughly sixty or seventy li each day, moving by day and resting by night, with local officials along the route responsible for hospitality at each stop. After traveling in this manner for nearly ten days, on a certain evening the vast procession finally arrived at the Wuning Plain hunting grounds.

The hunting grounds was a general term; in actuality, it was a vast expanse of undulating hills and wilderness, covering nearly a thousand li in circumference. Across the fertile plains, dense forests spread, and through them wound a waterway called the Red Willow River. At this time of year, the climate was pleasantly cool, the water and grass abundant, wild beasts roamed in herds, and forest birds were breeding and multiplying — the most ideal conditions for a hunt.

These hunting grounds had been established during the reign of Mingzong. Besides serving as a place of recreation, they were also used for military training. During the Mingzong reign, the grand autumn imperial hunt had been held here more than a dozen times, and a traveling palace had been built for accommodation purposes.

Today the Emperor’s procession had arrived. Not counting the military forces, just the escort personnel and attendants numbered nearly ten thousand. The magnificent traveling palace that had stood vacant for many years finally came back to life, and numerous large and small tent pavilions scattered throughout the area around the traveling palace made it look, from a distance, like stars surrounding the moon.

With so many escort personnel, it was impossible for all of them to be housed in the traveling palace. These tent pavilions were where most people would be living in the days to come.

On this outing, the Empress had not come. Among the women in the escort, Noble Consort Hu and the Princess Imperial served as the leaders.

Noble Consort Hu had been very attentive to Pu Zhu along the way, frequently sending people in the evenings with various foods and drinks and words of concern. Now that they had arrived at the traveling palace, she personally led Pu Zhu to the Western Garden, pointed out a location, and said with a smile: ‘There are many monks but not enough porridge — many people can only stay outside. You’re young and not one to compete for things, and I was worried the good spots would be taken. I asked the internal affairs staff and they said this place is excellent, so I had it specially reserved for you. If you find it satisfactory, stay here and have the Prince of Qin come stay here as well. Huaiwei and Ningfu can stay right next door and keep you company.’

The Western Garden was a succession of vermilion doorways, carved railings, and jade-white balustrades — if one didn’t step outside and look only at this place, it would feel just like being in the imperial palace in the capital.

Pu Zhu and Ningfu expressed their thanks to Noble Consort Hu. Huaiwei, however, was greatly disappointed: ‘I don’t want to stay here! I want to go outside and stay in a tent!’

Noble Consort Hu smiled warmly and patted him on the head, coaxing: ‘This place is much better — there are so many people outside who want to get in here but can’t.’

Huaiwei pouted. After Noble Consort Hu had coaxed him a few times, she said that the large party had just arrived, everyone was tired from the journey, there was nothing planned for the evening, and the priority was rest. She told Pu Zhu to retire early, then took her people and left.

With the accommodations arranged, the various elderly nursemaids and maids who had come along busied themselves unpacking trunks and putting the quarters in order. Pu Zhu helped Li Hui’er make her bed and get settled, and then the imperial kitchen staff sent dinner. But Huaiwei had disappeared — when she asked his wet nurse, the woman had been busy putting things in order and hadn’t noticed where he’d gone.

Pu Zhu sent people to look for him, and the maid returned to report that the young prince was playing outside and refused to come back.

The sun was nearly setting. This place was nothing like the capital — step outside the traveling palace and there were old forests and wilderness. Though Pu Zhu’s first act upon arriving had been to assign a Penglai Palace attendant named A’Liu to follow Huaiwei’s every step, she was still uneasy. So she had a maid accompany her and, passing the traveling palace guards, went outside.

The evening sun tilted westward, its dark golden light staining the distant forests and fertile plains. The arrival of the vast procession had broken the former tranquility of this wooded wilderness. Not far away, between the clustered tent pavilions, people were everywhere busily getting settled, and on the wild wind came the rising and falling sounds of horses neighing and hunting dogs howling.

Pu Zhu followed the maid in search of Huaiwei.

Li Xuandu, along with Chen Zhude and others who had arrived ahead of the main group, were first to welcome the Emperor’s arrival and then went to the traveling palace to pay their respects.

Wearied from the long journey, the Emperor showed signs of fatigue on his face, and after a simple audience, the day’s affairs concluded.

As Li Xuandu came out from the traveling palace and was about to return to his own tent, he suddenly saw Han Rongchang leading a horse with a gleaming coat approaching. When Han Rongchang spotted him, his face lit up with delight, and he came running over with the horse.

Li Xuandu stopped and waited. When Han Rongchang reached him, he examined the horse in the man’s hand.

It was a mare of about two years old — just reaching her prime — with a date-red coat that gleamed like oil, a long neck, and strong limbs. She was a truly fine horse, but on the smaller side, better suited for a woman to ride. For a large man like Han Rongchang, riding this mare would look somewhat ill-matched.

But a thousand gold pieces can’t buy what your heart desires — if he was happy with her, that was all that mattered.

Li Xuandu said nothing more and simply offered a word of praise for the fine horse.

Han Rongchang said with pride: ‘You think she’s good too, don’t you? I paid a great price to buy this mount for the Princess Consort, as a special gift to express my gratitude. Do me a favor and pass it along to her — coming to a place like this, a fine horse befits her, otherwise what’s the point?’

Ever since that incident, Han Rongchang’s gratitude toward the Prince of Qin’s consort had been impossible to put into words. He had originally wanted to go and thank her in person when they were still in the capital, but Li Xuandu had tactfully declined on her behalf, saying there was no need for a special visit and that if word got out it might cause more harm than good.

Han Rongchang had thought it over and felt there was sense in that, but the matter had weighed on his mind ever since. So on this occasion he specially brought her this fine horse to express his heartfelt appreciation.

Li Xuandu shook his head: ‘She didn’t come — she’s in the capital. Give it to her when you get back.’

‘How can you say that? I clearly saw her just now, which is why I brought the horse over!’

Li Xuandu was startled and asked him where he had seen her.

Han Rongchang pointed in the direction behind him: ‘I saw her heading that way…’

He suddenly clicked his tongue, stopped, and stared at him: ‘You didn’t even know whether she came or not?’

Li Xuandu turned to look, then, having no time to explain, left Han Rongchang and went to find her.

Pu Zhu followed the maid to the edge of a marsh near the traveling palace and finally spotted Huaiwei’s figure.

He was with Han Chijiao, and nearby were seven or eight other young men in fine clothing — most of whom Pu Zhu recognized. There was the Persian prince Agutai and the Khotan prince Weichi Shengde, and among the remaining few was Shangguan Family’s seventh son as well as several other young men from powerful households in the capital. The group had gathered at the water’s edge and were watching with great enthusiasm as the falconers tested various hawks and falcons in flight by the water, making preparations for tomorrow’s hunt.

She hadn’t expected that the moment Huaiwei arrived here, he would run into the ill-omened Han Chijiao.

And in such a convenient location, too — right at the water’s edge!

Pu Zhu immediately tensed up. Rather than go over herself, she sent the maid to call Huaiwei back.

The maid went over and called to Huaiwei to return, but he was watching in complete fascination and refused to budge. The maid said the Princess Consort had come. He turned his head, and sure enough, saw Pu Zhu walking toward him, so he dragged his feet over to meet her and pleaded: ‘Sister-in-law, let me watch just a little longer! Just a little while! I’ll go back with A’Liu afterward.’

Pu Zhu stopped. Before she could even speak, Han Chijiao had already seen her, his eyes lighting up.

Li Lihua had kept him confined for quite a few days, and when he emerged, he learned that his family had hastily arranged a match for him — the woman in question was a niece of the Yao family. He had found an opportunity to take a look at her and was deeply disappointed to find her unremarkable in appearance. But he also knew that the girl from the Pu family whom he admired had already become his little aunt-by-marriage and could never marry him, and that men of his standing had no way to resist a family-arranged match, so he resigned himself to muddling through his days. Yet he had never expected to encounter her here like this.

The setting sun shone on the water’s surface, sending golden ripples sparkling. The beauty stood by the water as if bathed in golden light, the evening wind stirring her skirts to unfurl gently, and from a distance she looked like one stepping on lotus blossoms, emerging from the water.

Han Chijiao stood in a daze. When she slightly furrowed her brow and fixed her gaze on him, he came back to himself. Far from being bothered, thinking that with so many noble young men here, she had looked at him first of all — proof that he was unique in her eyes — his heart immediately blossomed with delight, and he broke into a run toward her.

The others at the water’s edge had been arguing moments ago over whose purple eagle was better than whose white falcon. Now they all stopped and turned to look, falling momentarily silent.

Han Chijiao ran up to Pu Zhu and said ingratiatingly: ‘Little Aunt, I brought several hunting hawks — all trained and top-quality, able to follow whistle commands. If you like them, just take them to play with, and I’ll give you the falconers too.’ Saying this, he turned and called out loudly for the falconer to bring his hawks.

The falconer obeyed and soon came running with several hunting hawks perched on his arm, kneeling on the ground so the Princess Consort could see them more clearly.

Han Chijiao stepped forward to introduce them, but before he could open his mouth, Huaiwei grew annoyed and yelled: ‘What do you mean by this? I just asked you to give me one, and you kept refusing! How is it you’re now trying to give them all to my sister-in-law?’

Han Chijiao retorted: ‘You’re just a child — what do you know about hunting hawks!’

At this point, the Khotan prince Weichi Shengde also walked over. He commanded his falconer to present one of his white eagles and, gazing at Pu Zhu, said: ‘If the Princess Consort fancies it, this one — I’ve named it Mountain Snow — has been trained for many years and is very well broken in. I would be honored to offer it to the Princess Consort.’

He paused, then explained: ‘I have heard that the Princess Consort’s father was once the Left Guard General Pu. During his mission years ago, he passed through my kingdom and had some dealings with my late father. My father regarded him as a teacher and mentor. It is a rare honor to encounter the Princess Consort here today — this is a small token of my sincerity.’

Hearing him say he had past dealings with her father, Pu Zhu was startled and glanced at this Western Regions prince. She was about to politely decline when Huaiwei was already beside himself with joy.

In truth, it was this white eagle he had had his eye on all along, but having no acquaintance with this Khotan prince, he hadn’t had the nerve to ask for it. Who would have thought the prince would offer it himself? How could he refuse? He immediately lunged forward: ‘Good, good — let me accept it on my sister-in-law’s behalf…’ He reached out to take it, and then suddenly heard someone call his name from behind.

‘Huaiwei!’

His hand froze. He turned around to see his fourth brother, Li Xuandu, standing at some distance behind them, his gaze directed toward them.

No one knew when he had arrived.