Ling’er, the most favored palace maid of Princess Chunran of Luo Hua Palace, had been feeling somewhat unhappy these past few days — and somewhat happy as well.

The source of her unhappiness was the person who had taken over Princess Chunran’s bed and was sleeping soundly upon it at this very moment.

Just thinking about this Fengxi who had appeared out of nowhere made Ling’er’s belly full of grievances. This so-called “Heroine Feng” whom the Princess so greatly admired and liked — she had been in the palace for so many days now, and Ling’er had yet to see anything remarkable about her. How on earth had she acquired such a grand reputation?

Essentially, in all these days, she had not done a single thing of even the smallest consequence. The majority of her time was spent sleeping and eating — a textbook glutton and sluggard — while the remaining fraction of her time was spent teasing and frolicking with the other palace maids.

She would appear silently at your back without warning and give you half a fright to death. She would pick a flower and insist on pinning it to your chest. In the daytime she would tell you colorful and fascinating tales of life in the jianghu until your heart itched with longing, then at night she would tell you grim stories of gluttonous ghosts, lustful demons, and gambling fiends meeting their ends in hell, leaving you too frightened to sleep a wink.

Not that you would know it from looking at her — she dressed the same every day in white robes with her long hair loose, not a single ornament — yet she was somehow intimately knowledgeable about the clothing and cosmetics of noble ladies from every kingdom. She would teach this one how to paint misty trailing brows, show that one how to apply the teardrop liner and blusher, advise this one on how to pin her hair into a startled-phoenix knot, then inform that one that the fragrant-sleeve dyeing technique was this year’s fashion…

The result was that every single palace maid in Luo Hua Palace was trailing around after her. This one asking “Has anyone seen Miss Xi?” — that one asking “Where has Miss Xi slipped off to sleep now?” — and another offering “Miss Xi, I gathered these flower petals for tea this morning, please have a taste,” and yet another saying “Miss Xi, I made these pastries — please eat them while they are warm.” These palace maids had nearly forgotten who the real mistress of Luo Hua Palace was!

As for the source of her happiness — Ling’er let her gaze drift from the corner of her eye toward the Anxi Pavilion in the garden, where Young Master Feng was playing a game of weiqi with the Princess. The moment her eyes landed on that figure, elegant as jade in the breeze, a flush of rose crept up her face and her heart began leaping like a startled fawn.

She still remembered the first time she laid eyes on Young Master Feng Xi — she had thought he must be a prince from some kingdom paying a visit. The Young Master’s several royal brothers were all fine-looking men, but placed alongside Young Master Feng, they were as a crow beside a brilliant phoenix. To say nothing of that bearing of his — noble and composed beyond compare — and that smile of his, warm as a spring breeze.

When the Princess recited a line of poetry, he would immediately follow with the next. When the Princess painted a picture, he would compose a poem to accompany it beside her. When the Princess played the piece “Thoughts of Parting” on the qin, he would play “The Return” in response on his white jade flute. When the Princess sang the piece “Emerging from the Cold,” he could dance with a sword as though it were a living dragon. And to everyone he spoke, he was always gentle in word, courteous in manner, and utterly composed, as though any crisis on earth, no matter how pressing, was nothing a wave of his hand could not resolve.

Such a perfect man — one who existed only in a young girl’s dreams — and yet here he was, a real person in the world. So it was that every palace maid in Luo Hua Palace would flush red at the sight of Young Master Feng, would grow too flustered to speak a word in his presence, and would not know what to do with her hands and feet when his gaze fell upon her. To Ling’er, all of this was entirely forgivable — after all, she herself was exactly the same.

Her gaze drifted of its own accord back to the Anxi Pavilion. The two figures amidst the surrounding sea of blossoms truly were a perfect match in beauty and bearing — like a pair of immortal lovers stepped from a painting, enough to draw forth sincere admiration and sighs from anyone who saw them. She looked and looked, and began to drift into a reverie — until something caught her eye, something jarringly out of place in the painting. She looked more carefully. When had Fengxi snuck over to disturb the Princess and the Young Master?

“My dear beauty Hua, that is not how you should play!”

A game piece that Hua Chunran had been about to place was suddenly intercepted halfway and dropped somewhere else entirely.

“My dear beauty Hua, you should play here — and then this black fox will certainly play there — and then you play here — then the black fox plays here — and then you do this — and finally — look, have you not surrounded him entirely now, leaving him no way out? Ha ha — this is what you call capturing the black fox alive!” Fengxi’s two hands rose and fell over the board, and in less than a quarter of an hour she had played through the entire game herself.

Hua Chunran looked at the board and could not help but offer a heartfelt compliment: “So Miss Fengxi’s skill at weiqi is this remarkable!”

To think that she had always prided herself on being accomplished in music, weiqi, calligraphy, and painting — yet in these past several days of playing against Feng Xi, nearly ten games in, she had not won a single one. And now, with just this one rearrangement by Fengxi, what had been a losing position was turned into a winning one!

“Ha — it is not that I am remarkable. It is simply that I know fox nature inside and out.” Fengxi leaned on the weiqi table with a smile, her head tilted sideways to look at Hua Chunran. This had become a habit she had picked up recently — in her own words, looking at a beauty’s face was nourishment for the eyes.

From a distance, Ling’er ground her teeth, wrung her hands, and stamped her foot as she glared at Fengxi. Of course, this was absolutely not envy. Not at all.

“They say the jianghu is full of rough-mannered wanderers — are all jianghu wanderers like the two of you?” Hua Chunran looked at the two people before her. “Versed in poetry and prose, accomplished in the six arts, knowledgeable across the hundred schools of thought, skilled in military strategy and swordsmanship — even the sons of lords and nobles could not compare to you.”

“Ha —” Fengxi laughed lightly, sprang up, and perched herself on the pavilion railing, her legs dangling over the side and swinging back and forth. “I would like to ask in return — are all princesses as bold as you, willing to shelter people of unknown origin from the jianghu, and without the slightest guard against them?”

Hua Chunran glanced back at Feng Xi, only to find him looking at her as well, evidently sharing Fengxi’s sentiment. She gave a graceful smile, and with a fingertip twirled a strand of hair that hung before her chest, speaking in measured and unhurried tones: “That Chunran dared to invite the two of you to be guests in the palace is because Chunran trusts her own eyes when it comes to reading people. And from the two of you, Chunran feels absolutely no malice directed at her.”

She paused, and her eyes drifted out toward the sea of blossoms, their focus growing a little distant, as though gazing toward a far-off future. “To someone like Chunran, who will spend all her life within the deep walls of this palace, people as remarkable as the two of you are a rare and wondrous encounter — one that might well be spoken of as the most interesting and memorable thing in all of Chunran’s life. So having been given this gift, I must of course cherish it.”

“What is obtained, one cherishes. What cannot be obtained — that is simply one’s fate.” Feng Xi lowered his head and looked at the pieces on the weiqi board, picking up a white piece and smiling faintly as he spoke.

“Indeed.” Hua Chunran smiled and nodded, her gaze flowing like water toward Feng Xi.

“My dear beauty Hua — you say you will spend all your life locked within these deep palace walls. Have you never thought of going out to see the world?” Fengxi’s smile was wicked, like a fox enticing a little white rabbit. “Step beyond this palace, and you will find that the world outside — whether its flowers and trees, or the ten thousand faces of human life — is far more vibrant and interesting than anything within these walls.”

“No.” Surprisingly, Hua Chunran shook her head, her smile still lingering on her face. She rose and walked to the railing, cupped a peony that had stretched its bloom over the rail, and held it gently. “I am like this flower — suited to growing in this garden of wealth and splendor.”

She released the flower and looked at Fengxi, her eyes clear as still water. “What would I do if I went out there? Only to see the flowers, birds, people, and things of the outside world? Perhaps there would be novelty at first — but wherever there are people in this world, how different can things truly be?”

“Besides, I know neither how to spin and weave nor how to cook and wash. I am unaccustomed to plain food and rough living. I would not know how to adapt to the life of a common person. I only know the idle pleasures of wind and flowers, snow and moonlight. I love beautiful garments, fine food, music and dance. I require a retinue of palace attendants to wait upon me at all times. From childhood onward, what I learned was how to survive within this deep palace!”

Fengxi laughed when she heard this, and applauded: “Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! I expected you might speak with the grand romantic spirit of some sheltered young lady and declare, ‘Cast aside riches as dust — exchange it all for a lifetime of carefree wandering!’ But my dear beauty Hua, for all that she dwells deep within a palace, has clear-sighted wisdom — she knows others and she knows herself!”

“It appears the mountain comes to you, not you to the mountain.” Feng Xi said suddenly, his head still lowered as he separated the black and white pieces on the board and returned them one by one to their respective boxes — as though this were a matter of great importance requiring his full concentration.

Hua Chunran’s eyes lit with a strange brightness when she heard this. She looked at Feng Xi with an expression that held something of a sigh, something of joy, and something of worry all at once.

Fengxi said nothing more. She simply sat on the railing, one hand propping her cheek, watching the two of them with a smile. Her eyes were deep, yet her expression was light and undisturbed — as though Feng Xi’s sudden remark had neither reached her ears nor entered her mind.

“Your Highness, the King requests your presence.”

The stillness of the Anxi Pavilion was broken when Ling’er came forward to announce this.

“Oh.” Hua Chunran nodded and rose. “I will be back shortly — please make yourselves at home.”

“Please go ahead, Your Highness.” Fengxi and Feng Xi both smiled and nodded, watching her leave.

“Do you know why Father has summoned me?” Hua Chunran asked while changing her clothes.

“Your servant made inquiries of the messenger. It seems to be connected to the two guests Your Highness has privately taken in.” Ling’er replied.

“I told all of you not to let word of them get out. How has this reached Father’s ears?” Hua Chunran’s eyes flashed a cool light the moment she heard this, and she looked at Ling’er.

Ling’er’s heart clenched, and she dropped to her knees immediately. “Your Highness, your servant did indeed relay your instructions to everyone in Luo Hua Palace — not a word was to be spoken of Young Master Feng or Miss Fengxi’s presence here. Your servant has said nothing. Your Highness, please be assured.”

“Rise.” Hua Chunran waved her hand and said mildly, “I did not blame you. What are you panicking about?”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Ling’er rose, and looked at her mistress with some apprehension, then lowered her voice. “Your Highness, this matter may be connected to Madam Shu and Princess Yiran. These past few days, there have been people seen lingering outside the palace who appear to be associated with them.”

“Mm.” Hua Chunran gave Ling’er a sideways glance, then after a moment said mildly, “Do not let your tongue run loose. Remember — in this palace, walls have ears in every direction.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Ling’er hastily lowered her head in assent.

“Come, let us go. If Father waits too long, he will be displeased.” Hua Chunran swept her robes and took the lead, with Ling’er and the attendants following close behind.

Back in the Anxi Pavilion, Fengxi looked at Feng Xi with a cheerful smile, while Feng Xi simply turned a few white pieces over in his hand, his eyes slightly lowered, a faint smile still on his face, as though he were quite contented at play.

“Black Fox, what do you make of our dear beauty Hua?” Fengxi asked, the smile still on her face, her manner seemingly light and pleasant — yet within those eyes of hers was something that seemed like laughter, seemed like teasing, and seemed like cold calculation all at once.

“Very good.” Feng Xi replied, seemingly offhand and careless.

“Only that?” Fengxi sprung up and settled into the seat across from him.

“If you are asking me whether the Soul-Severing Sect matter was directed by her — I can tell you it was not.” Feng Xi still turned the game pieces in his hand without lifting his head. “She may have the capability, but she does not have the intent.”

“I knew that without you telling me.” Fengxi shook her head and fixed her eyes on him. “What I am asking is — what are you scheming?”

Feng Xi finally lifted his head and looked at her, smiling mildly. “Woman, speaking of which — you have accumulated quite a considerable debt of favors owed to me over these ten years.”

“Oh? Are you trying to get me to do something for you to repay those favors?” Fengxi narrowed her eyes slightly, her smile unchanged. “Not a chance. I told you eight hundred years ago — expecting anything in return from me is impossible. So you can put that thought out of your head right now. You may scheme against whoever you like in this world — but do not ever scheme against me!”

“Ha — I have always known that getting anything out of you is impossible, so I have never entertained that notion.” Feng Xi shook his head slightly and tilted his hand — all the pieces fell back into their box at once. “All I want is for you to stay out of it. No matter what winds of change may blow through Hua Du, you are not to interfere with my plans. That should be a trifling matter for you.”

“Ha — you want me to just sit and watch the spectacle without dipping a foot in?” Fengxi propped herself on the table with her chin in her hands and looked up at him.

Feng Xi’s fingertip tapped lightly against the table. “Did you know — not long ago I happened to pass by the Riling Tower, and I had a few rather outstanding dishes there…”

“You would make them for me?” Fengxi immediately snatched his hand the moment she heard this, her eyes gleaming bright as stars, practically drooling at the corner of her mouth, all but wagging a tail behind her.

“If you are willing to help me with one small thing from time to time, I could consider it.” Feng Xi answered with an air of supreme indifference.

“You lazy fox — I have known you for ten years, and you have cooked for me exactly once!” Fengxi leveled the accusation at him, unconsciously tightening her grip with each word.

“And yet that one time has had a certain someone drooling with longing ever since.” Feng Xi raised his left hand and let his fingertip lightly press against Fengxi’s wrist, rescuing his right hand before it could be squeezed into pieces.

“Yes.” Fengxi could not help but concede this, however reluctantly. “You black-hearted, black-lunged fox — and yet what you make is the most delicious thing I have ever eaten in my life!”

“So will you agree?” Feng Xi asked, unhurried.

Fengxi did not answer. She simply looked at him with a smile, her gaze needling and sharp, as though trying to pierce straight through to his heart. After a long while, she finally said: “You want to marry my dear beauty Hua — to become Huaguo’s prince consort?”

“And what do you think of that?” Feng Xi asked with a cheerful smile, his own eyes equally fixed on her.

“Ah ha… I am so terribly sleepy.” Fengxi suddenly let out a long yawn, stretched out both arms, and flopped face-down onto the table and fell asleep.

The pavilion fell into an instant of complete stillness. Feng Xi quietly looked at her — who appeared to have already fallen asleep — and after a long while, he leaned down and murmured softly in her ear: “Marrying the Princess of Huaguo — what do you think of that?”

—

“Chun’er pays her respects to Father!” In the southern study of the Jinsheng Palace, Hua Chunran made a graceful bow.

“Chun’er, rise quickly!” The King of Huaguo rose from his great chair and personally helped his beloved daughter to her feet. The King, only just past fifty this year, was well-preserved and ruddy-faced, appearing four or five years younger than his actual age — of medium build, neither stout nor lean, with a thick straight mustache above his lip that lent him a certain dignified authority.

“I wonder what matter Father wished to discuss with me?” Hua Chunran rose and looked at the King.

“It has been so long since I have seen Chun’er — Father simply wished to have a look at you.” The King settled back into his chair, his face warm with fatherly affection. “And as it happens, the kingdom of Shanyu recently presented a bolt of ‘Xiayan Silk’ — Chun’er, stay afterward and choose a few lengths you like and have them made into clothing.”

“Many thanks, Father!” Hua Chunran thanked him and moved to stand before the King, taking his arm. “Chun’er also wishes she could wait upon Father every single day — but alas, Father is so occupied with affairs of state that he rarely has a spare moment to see me.”

“Sigh! It is all those brothers of yours who are so useless — they cannot help Father share the burden, and every single matter must be handled personally. I am worn to the bone!” The King looked at his beloved daughter and sighed. “If only Chun’er had been born a son!”

“Ha —” Hua Chunran let out a gentle laugh. “Father, the elder princes are remarkable men in their own right. It is simply that compared to Father, they cannot help but fall short — which is why Father feels they are unequal to the task. But a tiger does not sire dogs. Given time, the princes will certainly learn from Father’s own abilities and become as great a sovereign as Father himself.”

“Ha ha — still my Chun’er who knows just what to say!” The King burst into laughter.

“Chun’er only speaks the truth.” Hua Chunran pressed her small hands against the King’s shoulders and gave a massage — not too light and not too heavy — leaving him feeling thoroughly at ease. “Only, Father might consider leaving some of the smaller matters to his ministers. There is no need to attend to everything personally — for one thing, it would spare Father’s constitution; for another, it would leave a little time for us children, so we may also have the chance to show our filial devotion.”

“Very well, very well, very well!” The King was greatly pleased, and patted his beloved daughter with affection. “No matter how busy Father is, I will set aside time for my Chun’er.”

“Father, your tea.” Hua Chunran lifted the cup of fragrant tea from the table and offered it to the King, speaking in soft and gentle tones. “Father, Chun’er has often heard from her elder and younger brothers and sisters that Minister Qian Qi, Minister Wang Qing, Minister Xiang Ya, and others are all talented men. If that is so, Father ought to entrust them with greater responsibilities. That would both demonstrate Father’s wisdom in valuing talent, and leave Father more time to spend with Madam Shu, Madam Yi, and the others.”

She paused here and let out a quiet sigh, her willow-leaf brows faintly furrowed. “Father — it has been said since ancient times that deep palaces breed many grievances. The madams rarely have the chance to see Father. When the longing builds within them, they cannot blame Father for it, and so they will displace that feeling onto others.”

“Chun’er — has someone wronged you?” The King’s smile faded at that, and he reached out to gently hold his beloved daughter’s delicate hand. “Tell Father — Father will see justice done for you.”

“No.” Hua Chunran covered with a small laugh — though something in her eyes seemed to carry a shadow of unease. “Chun’er is beloved by Father, and the brothers and sisters are all very kind to Chun’er. Who would dare give Chun’er a cold look or speak an unkind word?”

“Give you a cold look? Speak an unkind word?” The King’s expression sharpened and his brow drew together. “Who would dare do such a thing — who would dare mistreat my Chun’er!”

“Father has misunderstood — Chun’er was only speaking in hypothetical terms.” Hua Chunran lowered her head hastily, yet her voice seemed to carry within it infinite layers of unspoken grievance.

“Hmph! Father knows — you need not shield them.” The King let out a cold snort. “Father shows you a little more affection, and naturally there will be those who envy and resent it.”

“Father — we have not seen each other for several days. Let us not speak of these things. Chun’er would rather tell Father some good news.” Hua Chunran coaxed him gently and steered the conversation elsewhere. A faint smile crossed the corner of her lips — gone in an instant.

“Very well. Father knows what is what, in any case.” The King set down his teacup and smoothed away the slight furrow at his beloved daughter’s brow with an affectionate touch. “Chun’er — what is it you wished to tell Father?”

“Chun’er wished to ask Father — has Father heard of Baifeng Heixi?” Hua Chunran asked, at the same time refilling the King’s teacup with more water.

“Baifeng Heixi?” The King’s eyes flashed, then he raised his head and looked at his daughter with a slightly puzzled air. “These two are peerless fighters of the jianghu — Father has heard something of them. Why does Chun’er bring this up?”

“Chun’er wishes to inform Father that these very two — Baifeng Heixi — are at this moment guests in Chun’er’s palace!” Hua Chunran lifted the teacup back to the King’s hands, a gentle smile on her lips.

“Oh?” The King’s brow furrowed again, and his gaze settled on his daughter. “Chun’er, how could you involve yourself with people of the jianghu? Moreover, this Hei Feng Xi is a man — if it became known that he was residing in your palace, would that not damage your reputation?”

“Father.” Hua Chunran shook the King’s arm in gentle protest, speaking in a soft and coaxing tone. “You have said yourself that remarkable and extraordinary individuals can emerge even from among the wanderers of the jianghu. Through these past few days of contact, Chun’er feels that Baifeng Heixi are truly rare talents that one could search the world over without finding again. If Father were to gain their assistance, Father would surely be able to realize his great ambitions, and Huaguo would no longer need to remain subordinate to Huang Chao and Fengguo!”

“Oh? So Chun’er is hoping to draw these two to Father’s service?” The King ventured his guess.

“Yes!” Hua Chunran inclined her head gently. At the same time she raised the teacup and held it out to the King again. “Father, these two are truly exceptional talents — which is why Chunran has gone to such lengths to cultivate their friendship. She hopes to keep them in Huaguo and give them the chance to assist Father and our kingdom. And perhaps…” She lowered her voice slightly here. “Father — perhaps these two could even help you conquer all the world.”

“Conquer all the world?” The King’s teacup clinked against the table, and he set it down and looked at Hua Chunran. A keen light flashed in his eyes — but in an instant it softened back into fatherly warmth. “Chun’er, you have been sharp-witted since childhood. You are the only one among my children who understands even a little of Father’s mind. Those brothers of yours, on the other hand — alas!”

“The princes are still young — it is understandable that they cannot yet share Father’s burdens.” Hua Chunran snuggled close to the King and sat beside him in that great chair wide enough to seat three or four people. “Father — will you receive these two in audience?”

“Mm…” The King pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “This King will not meet with them just yet. These jianghu people are difficult to read. Let us observe a little longer. But as for those two — they have been in your palace for five days now. You are a princess. How can you be sharing quarters with wanderers from the jianghu? Have them move to another residence.”

“Hmm?” Hua Chunran was momentarily taken aback, then she let out a small sigh, and her voice took on the tone of someone a little hurt. “So Father has known all along that these two were in Chun’er’s palace. Father had people keeping watch on Chun’er!”

“Chun’er.” The King knew he had misspoken and hurried to soothe her. “Father absolutely did not have anyone watching you. It was only that Madam Shu was worried about you, and so informed Father.”

“So it was…” Before Hua Chunran could finish the sentence, the rims of her eyes reddened, and a string of teardrops fell. She seemed to fear being seen, and quickly turned her head away.

“Chun’er, Chun’er — be good, do not cry.” The King, seeing his beloved daughter upset and in tears, hurried to take hold of her and patted her gently. “Chun’er, do not cry — Father believes you absolutely. Madam Shu also only cares about you. She was afraid someone would take advantage of you, so she reminded Father. Do not cry.”

Hua Chunran turned her back to the King, her shoulders trembling slightly, weeping softly, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. “Father — Chun’er is not upset. Please do not… do not worry yourself.”

“Chun’er.” The King turned her around to face him — and saw her face streaked with tear tracks, as though she were in great distress yet struggling to hold herself together. She was like a pear blossom touched by rain, heartbreakingly beautiful. “Chun’er — please do not cry. If you cry any more, Father’s heart will shatter!”

“Father!” Hua Chunran buried herself in the King’s arms and sobbed softly, and between her quiet weeping she gave voice to her grievances: “Chun’er truly does not know how to endure life in this palace any longer. All these years — simply because Father has shown Chun’er a little extra affection — not a single person in the entire palace actually likes Chun’er. Every one of them would be happiest to be rid of her! Father — you should simply send Chun’er far away. That way Chun’er might at least be able to live out her days in peace. As it is now, they merely say and do things behind Chun’er’s back — but what of the future? In the future, Chun’er… Chun’er may not even be able to hold onto her very life!”

“Do not cry… do not cry… my dearest heart… please, no more tears!” The King’s heart was completely softened by Hua Chunran’s weeping. He held her and embraced her and patted her and comforted her in every way he could, wanting nothing more than for this precious daughter in his arms to stop shedding the tears that were breaking his heart. “Chun’er, do not cry. From now on — no matter who it is — if anyone speaks a word against Chun’er, Father will have them executed on the spot, without a second thought!”

Hua Chunran lifted her head from the King’s arms, tears still falling like rain, and said with a soft whimper: “Madam Shu and the others not liking Chun’er, working against Chun’er — all of that Chun’er can understand. None of that truly matters. It is only… only that Father actually believed them over his own daughter… that… that is what truly breaks Chun’er’s heart. Chun’er only wanted to help Father, and yet… wuu wuu wuu…” And saying this, she buried her face back in her handkerchief and wept quietly.

“Chun’er — Father believes you! Father believes you absolutely!” The King was completely at a loss, not knowing how to make his precious daughter stop crying. “Chun’er, please stop crying. Father will never again believe their nonsensical talk! Father will listen only to you!”

“Truly? Father believes Chun’er?” Hua Chunran lifted her head slightly from the handkerchief, her eyes red-rimmed, the tip of her nose flushed red, tear tracks still glistening on her face. She looked at the King with an expression of faint, trembling hope — like a rain-washed begonia, beautiful and captivating, yet with three parts fragility, two parts tender softness, and one part quiet sorrow, drawing from the King a rush of pity and tenderness and love all at once.

“Of course! Of course! Of course!” The King reassured her three times over, and picked up her handkerchief to wipe away her tears — only to find it already half-soaked. Caring nothing for the impropriety, he raised his sleeve and wiped away the remaining tear tracks from his beloved daughter’s face, then let out a long, deep sigh. “Alas — of all the women in the world, only your tears can undo Father completely!”

“That is because Father truly loves Chun’er from the heart, and so cannot bear to see Chun’er cry.” Hua Chunran nestled herself sweetly into her father’s arms.

“Yes!” The King held his daughter close. “Of all seventeen of your brothers and sisters, Father loves you the most!”

“Chun’er will never fail Father’s affection. Chun’er will always be devoted and filial!” Hua Chunran raised her head and made her pledge, her face brimming with sincerity, moving the King with both gratitude and deep satisfaction.

“Father knows! Father knows!” The King said again and again. Seeing that his daughter had been properly comforted, he quickly returned to the matter at hand. “Chun’er — there is another thing Father summoned you here to discuss.”

“Is it about selecting a prince consort for Chun’er?” Hua Chunran raised her head to ask, and as she said it, her face seemed to color faintly, and she tucked her head back into the King’s arms.

“Ha ha — my Chun’er is still shy!” The King could not help but laugh. He raised his daughter’s chin and looked at her face with pride and satisfaction. “My Chun’er is a peerless beauty whose face could topple kingdoms. I do not know how many princes and lords’ sons have wished to take you as a wife. Only Father has always been unwilling to let you go, and so your marriage has been deferred all this time. But Chun’er is nearly twenty now — Father cannot keep you any longer, or Father would be wasting your best years!”

“Chun’er will not marry. Chun’er wishes to spend her whole life waiting upon Father!” Hua Chunran pressed her head against the King’s shoulder and said the sweet words that every young woman about to be married would use to coax her parents, with an expression of utter shyness.

“Ha — a girl must eventually marry and have children. Father may be unwilling to let you go, yet he must.” The King was clearly delighted to hear it, just as expected. “Chun’er — this time Father has issued a proclamation throughout the entire kingdom that we shall select an outstanding prince consort for you. The moment word spread that my Chun’er was holding a selection, they came swarming in from all directions — from princes and lords’ sons at the top, to common folk of the jianghu at the bottom. It is safe to say that every outstanding man under heaven is represented. Three days from now is the day of your selection. Chun’er — tell Father what kind of prince consort you wish to choose.”

“It is not what kind of prince consort Chun’er wishes to choose — it is what kind of son-in-law Father wishes to have!” Hua Chunran covered her lips with a laugh, a sly glimmer slipping across her eyes as she glanced at the King.

“Ha — just like my Chun’er! Clever!” The King laughed heartily.

“Father, what kind of son-in-law would you like?” Hua Chunran asked him with a smile, her eyes bright and lively in a way impossible to describe.

“Father may wish for a fine son-in-law, but he must equally be a fine prince consort for you!” The King’s laughter faded into a look of genuine gravity. For this most beloved of his daughters, he would allow no compromise.

“Chun’er knows that Father cares for her.” Hua Chunran also grew serious.

“There are truly very few in this world worthy of my Chun’er.” The King looked at his daughter’s incomparable face. “In terms of standing, status, learning, and appearance as a match for Chun’er, Father has his eye on two men — Young Master Lanxi of Fengguo, and Young Master Huang Chao of Huang Chao.”

The King rose and walked around the table, looking down at the green moss carpet from the kingdom of Shanyu beneath his feet. After a long while, he raised his head and said: “These two men created the Mo Yu Cavalry and the Conquer-Heaven Cavalry respectively — both are rare talents under heaven. If Father could gain the assistance of either one, why should he worry about failing to seize the world!”

“So both of these young masters have already arrived in Hua Du, also to seek a match?” Hua Chunran ventured, and at the thought that two such renowned and celebrated noble young masters were both seeking her hand, she felt a quiet swell of quiet joy and pride within.

“Chun’er is the most beautiful woman under heaven, and is moreover the foremost princess of Huaguo — any man worth the name would want you for a wife. Those two are certainly no exception!” The King said with proud satisfaction. “Huang Chao has already arrived in Hua Du. Father received him in audience this morning — and truly, he is a man of both outstanding talent and fine appearance! As for Young Master Lanxi — there has been correspondence from him as well, and the intention was implied between the lines. Yet he has not arrived thus far, which is rather strange.”

“So it would seem Father looks rather favorably upon the Crown Prince of Huang Chao?” Hua Chunran’s gaze flashed for a moment upon hearing this, then she asked in a soft voice.

“Father is most favorably inclined — but I wonder what Chun’er thinks of it?” The King looked at his daughter, who had lowered her lashes as though in shyness.

“Quite apart from his personal qualities — the thing Father looks most favorably upon when it comes to the Crown Prince of Huang Chao is surely his Conquer-Heaven Cavalry, is it not?” Hua Chunran was silent for a long moment before she raised her head to look at the King, her expression now entirely calm and composed. “Only Chun’er has heard that the Crown Prince of Huang Chao is by nature domineering and arrogant, and that he also harbors ambitions to contend for the world. Huang Chao’s national strength is no less than Huaguo’s — if he were to be brought in as prince consort, Chun’er fears that in time he might become a burden to Father instead.”

The King was immediately struck by this. His thick brows drew together. “The Conquer-Heaven Cavalry — conquer-heaven… conquer and seize the world?!”

Hua Chunran’s eyes shifted, and she let out a faint, quiet smile. “Of course — this may only be Chun’er’s one-sided conjecture. Perhaps he might be won over by Father’s exceptional talent and ambition, and submit to Father, pledging his loyalty — only…” She stopped here and said nothing more.

“Chun’er, go on.” The King looked at her with a pensive expression.

“Has Father ever considered — if Chun’er’s prince consort were not someone of royal blood like Young Master Lanxi or Young Master Huang Chao, but rather a person of common birth with exceptional talent — then such a person could assist Father, yet would not harbor ambitions of his own that might threaten Father?” Hua Chunran lowered her head, her gaze settling on the embroidered toes of her shoes with their pattern of a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix.

“Chun’er — do you have feelings for that Hei Feng Xi in your palace?” A sharp light flashed in the King’s eyes — he was no fool. “Are you thinking of taking him as your prince consort?”

Hua Chunran’s innermost thoughts had been laid bare, and her face flushed involuntarily. Her fingers twisted the handkerchief in her hands, and after a long silence she said: “What does Father think?”

“Absolutely not.” The King refused outright. “This Hei Feng Xi is a lowly jianghu wanderer — how could he be worthy of my Chun’er?”

Hua Chunran looked up sharply at that — a flash of something keen in her eyes, gone in an instant. She took a breath and softened her voice. “But Father — did you not say that regardless of wealth or station, whomever Chun’er’s golden brush marks out shall be her prince consort?”

“That is what was said — but would you truly have a princess of your standing matched to a man of the lowest rank?” The King’s voice was firm, his thick brows furrowed, a shadow of displeasure surfacing.

Hua Chunran suddenly gave a soft laugh, rose to her feet, and moved to stand beside the King, gently taking his arm. “Father, what has come over you? Chun’er never said she wished to take Young Master Feng as her prince consort. Chun’er was simply wondering — if Chun’er were to choose a commoner, how would Father feel? Since Father is opposed to it, Chun’er simply will not choose one.”

“Chun’er.” The King took his daughter’s hand and they sat down together in the chair. “Father’s proclamation may have said regardless of birth — but that was simply a means of winning the hearts of the people. My Chun’er, in both talent and beauty, deserves to be the consort of a kingdom!”

“So Chun’er can only choose from between Young Master Lanxi and Young Master Huang Chao?” Hua Chunran lowered her head and asked quietly.

“Yes — these two are undeniably the finest candidates.” The King nodded. “Only, what you said just now does hold some truth — these two might assist Father, or they might become a threat to Father.”

“Then all the more reason Father should meet with Baifeng Heixi!” Hua Chunran said. “Setting aside entirely the matter of taking them as a prince consort — they are truly individuals who could become Father’s most capable support.”

“Hmm?” The King was somewhat surprised to see his daughter recommend these two so earnestly, and after a moment’s consideration said, “Very well — in that case, Father will receive these two in audience tomorrow.”

“Many thanks, Father!” Hua Chunran’s face broke into a bright, happy smile. As long as the meeting happened, opportunity would follow.

—

Hua Du. Dongtai Hall.

Dongtai Hall was Huaguo’s official residence for receiving state guests, built with great grandeur and splendor. At this moment, the Lianguang Pavilion within Dongtai Hall was occupied by the Crown Prince of Huang Chao and his entourage.

Pushing open the window of the pavilion, one could look out from the second floor upon a scene of scattered pavilions and terraces, flowers lining the paths, winding covered walkways, and a gentle breeze carrying the fragrance of blooms. Spring was always so vibrant and full of life — especially the spring of Huaguo, that kingdom renowned for its wealth, where the brilliance of the season carried within it a hint of magnificent opulence.

“What are you looking at?” Huang Chao asked Yu Wuyuan, who had been standing at the window for nearly an hour.

“It has been many days since I last saw Xuekong. I heard you sent him to Ge City?” Yu Wuyuan, standing with his back to the room, did not turn around — only asked in a quiet, unhurried tone.

“Mm.” Huang Chao, lying on a soft couch, answered lightly with his eyes closed. He appeared to have only just woken from an afternoon nap — his hair spread loose across the couch, wearing a pale purple wide-cut robe, his expression tranquil, that domineering and imperious air of his set aside, replaced by a languid and distinctive charm.

“Ge City… he would have to pass through Ge City on his way here, would he not?” Yu Wuyuan let out a quiet sigh.

“It seems so.” Huang Chao still answered lightly.

“You only sent Xuekong alone? He is, after all, a person whose name is spoken alongside yours and mine. To regard him so lightly — that may well be a mistake.” Yu Wuyuan raised a hand to brush aside the strands of hair the wind had blown across his eyes.

“Rest easy — I also sent Jiushuang to assist him.” Huang Chao finally opened his eyes.

“And the others?” Yu Wuyuan’s gaze was directed into the distance.

“In this affair, my only opponent is him alone. The rest are not worth concern.” Huang Chao sat up and said with proud confidence.

“I heard that Baifeng Heixi were spotted in Huaguo.” Yu Wuyuan finally turned around, his gaze settling on Huang Chao.

“And what of it?” Huang Chao curved a faint smile, drawing a finger across his brow. “Are they competing against me? Fengxi is a woman, and Hei Feng Xi — given the King of Huaguo’s temperament, he would never choose him.”

“In the old days, the jianghu prophet Yue Qingyan appraised we four Young Masters: ‘Yu — harmony, Lan — concealment, Huang — arrogance, Xi — refinement.'” Yu Wuyuan walked over and sat down in the chair beside him, yet his gaze seemed to drift past Huang Chao toward some distant, undefined point ahead. “The characters harmony, concealment, and arrogance each reflect something of our natures — but that single character ‘refinement’ is the most difficult to fathom of all.”

“Refinement? That seems the simplest of the four.” Huang Chao stroked his chin, a look of deep thought in his eyes.

“But is the ‘refinement’ in question the refinement of character, of speech, of conduct, or of…” Yu Wuyuan paused briefly, then continued, “If it were only a simple and harmless ‘refinement,’ how could such a person be placed among the four Young Masters alongside someone like you?”

“So it seems I must be on my guard against this Hei Feng Xi as well!” Huang Chao rose and straightened his loosely draped purple robe slightly. “You met with him once at the Riling Tower — could you tell what kind of person he is?”

“Feng Xi… the character ‘refinement’ is one he wears without question.” Yu Wuyuan closed his eyes and recalled the black-robed young master at the Riling Tower — always wearing a faint smile, noble and composed as a lord — and offered the assessment with genuine admiration.

“Oh?” Huang Chao rose at that. “Speaking honestly — I do look forward to the day I meet Lan Xi and Feng Xi. Only…”

“Only for the sake of your ambitions, it would be best if they were never to appear at all. Is that it?” Yu Wuyuan said mildly.

“Ha ha — whether they appear or not, the great road to Changmang Shan is one I will not allow anyone to stand in the way of!” Huang Chao laughed aloud with open confidence, his brow and bearing full of soaring spirit — carrying with it the fearless, unconquerable air of a true sovereign.

Yu Wuyuan looked at Huang Chao in quiet silence. When he had first agreed to stay at his side, it was this very bearing of his that had drawn him in. This kind of fierce, world-shouldering, reckless bravado — he had never seen its equal.

“Baifeng Heixi… I do find myself very much looking forward to meeting this Bai Fengxi — the one who could bring about such a great change in Xuekong, and whose beauty and grace you yourself have praised as being peerless in the world.” Yu Wuyuan looked down at his own palm and traced the lines upon it, his voice level and unhurried. “A person who has stood as a peer to Hei Feng Xi for ten years cannot be simple.”

“Bai Fengxi…” The corner of Huang Chao’s mouth curved up slightly — a faint, quiet, but entirely genuine smile spread from the corner of his eyes. “I too look forward to meeting that Bai Fengxi, cleansed of all worldly dust. I want to see just what manner of peerless, world-surpassing grace is conveyed in the name ‘Suyi Xueyue.'”

—

“Your Highness.” The moment Hua Chunran stepped out of the southern study, Ling’er hurried forward. “The King, he…”

Hua Chunran raised a hand and cut off her question, then held out the handkerchief that had been soaked through with tears. “Burn this.”

“Yes.” Ling’er took it, and did not think it strange at all that the handkerchief was so wet — she seemed entirely accustomed to it.

“Burn it — not ‘accidentally lose’ it.” Hua Chunran gave Ling’er a sideways glance.

“Yes.” Ling’er lowered her head hastily.

Stepping out of the Jinsheng Palace, the royal garden lay to the left, while the path to the right led to the Jinbo Palace — the residence of Madam Shu, the King’s current most favored consort. Hua Chunran gazed in the direction of the Jinbo Palace for a long while, and a faint smile surfaced at the corner of her lips — so faint it was like a wisp of smoke at the edge of the horizon, and unless one looked carefully, it was almost imperceptible.

“Does Your Highness wish to go to the Jinbo Palace?” Ling’er asked, seeing her staring in that direction for so long.

“No.” Hua Chunran waved her hand and turned left. “I was only wondering whether the Jinbo Palace should perhaps have a new mistress.” The last words were spoken so quietly that Ling’er thought she must have heard wrong.

“Your Highness, did you say…” Ling’er started in surprise — but the second half of the sentence was swept back into silence by a single look from Hua Chunran.

“Never mind. I have no wish to deal with it for now.” Hua Chunran reached out and plucked a red herbaceous peony that had stretched its bloom beyond the path’s edge. She turned it between her fingers, and the flower spun into a swirl of red in her hand. “This flower bloomed beautifully — yet it does not know that by growing beyond its boundary, it will be trimmed away by the gardener.”

“Your Highness.” Ling’er called out haltingly, her head bowed low, as though afraid to look at the flower.

“Ling’er — remember this. People have the rules of people. Animals have the rules of animals. Flowers have the rules of flowers. All things in this world must act within their proper bounds — do you understand?” Hua Chunran raised her hand and flung the red peony far away.

“Yes. Your servant will remember.” Ling’er answered.

“Let us go back.” Hua Chunran turned left at the entrance to the royal garden and made her way toward Luo Hua Palace, with Ling’er following close behind her.

And that discarded red peony was picked up by a pair of hands, and gently, tenderly touched.