That girl was about fourteen or fifteen years old, with twin hair buns on her head, clear apricot eyes, and small, round cherry lips that held a natural rouge color – quite charming indeed. The light green silk dress she wore would have made others look sickly pale if they weren’t careful, but this girl was pink and white, and under this color’s contrast, her skin appeared even more jade-like and luminous. Her entire person was as fresh and lovely as newly sprouted willow buds on early spring branches.

“You’re the one who stole the Crispy Prints?” Zhenzhen asked.

The little girl hesitated, probably realizing denial would be difficult, so she could only nod her head.

Zhenzhen extended her hand to help her up, led her to sit beside the table, and placed the remaining Crispy Prints in front of her: “Continue eating.”

The little girl looked at Zhenzhen in surprise. Seeing her gentle expression with no intention to blame, she finally relaxed and happily picked up the Crispy Prints, eating two in succession.

Seeing her eat with the manner of a greedy cat, Zhenzhen couldn’t help but smile: “It’s not such precious food anyway. If you want to eat, just ask for it properly according to the rules. Why take it sneakily?”

“Because my aunt won’t let me eat these sweet pastries,” the little girl replied between bites, making time to answer Zhenzhen’s question.

“Is your aunt afraid you’ll ruin your teeth?” Zhenzhen asked again.

The little girl shook her head: “Mainly she’s afraid I’ll get fat… I’m from the Chrysanthemum Department, and I absolutely cannot get fat.”

“Chrysanthemum Department? Do you grow chrysanthemums?” Zhenzhen examined her carefully, feeling that with such delicate skin, she absolutely didn’t look like someone who could do physical labor. Moreover, her silk dress was different from ordinary palace servants’ clothing – silk as the base with several layers of light gauze on top, exquisite and flowing, hardly what someone doing gardening work would wear.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” The little girl quickly saw through Zhenzhen’s background but still patiently explained, “The Chrysanthemum Department refers to the Immortal Music Academy. There are many singers, dancers, and musicians inside, responsible for providing music for the inner palace. My aunt is a pipa player, and I can also play pipa, but I mainly study dance, so I can’t get fat.”

Before finishing her words about “can’t get fat,” she picked up another Crispy Print and popped it into her mouth, chewing happily.

Zhenzhen made a gesture to take the Crispy Prints away: “Then I can’t harm you. I can’t let you eat these pastries.”

The little girl quickly snatched the pastry plate into her arms: “Sister, don’t worry, I have ways to avoid getting fat.”

Zhenzhen asked what wonderful method she had, but she refused to say. Zhenzhen smiled and didn’t pursue this topic further, instead finding some more pastries and fruits to place in front of the little girl for her to take freely. Watching her enjoy them with a smile, she changed the subject: “I know about the Immortal Music Academy, but why is it also called the Chrysanthemum Department? Is it related to chrysanthemums?”

The little girl said: “It has nothing to do with chrysanthemums, but it’s related to someone whose name contains the character ‘chrysanthemum.'”

“This person must be a famous performer from your Immortal Music Academy, right?” Zhenzhen smiled.

The little girl asked in surprise: “How did you know?”

Zhenzhen said: “I guessed. For someone to cause the Immortal Music Academy to be renamed after her, she must be extraordinary, most likely someone who could outshine all others in the Immortal Music Academy.”

“Sister is clever,” the little girl praised, then explained, “Many years ago, our Immortal Music Academy had a great beauty who was exceptional in both singing and dancing, and could also play instruments like the pipa and konghou. The late Emperor appointed her as ‘Director of Immortal Music Affairs,’ putting her in charge of the Immortal Music Academy. Her name contained the character ‘chrysanthemum,’ so people in the palace called her ‘Chrysanthemum Department Head.’ Because of her, the late Emperor sometimes called the Immortal Music Academy the ‘Chrysanthemum Department,’ and everyone followed his lead. Over time, Chrysanthemum Department became an alternative name for the Immortal Music Academy, and the current Emperor also likes to call the Immortal Music Academy this way.” After a pause, she deliberately reminded Zhenzhen: “However, Sister, you must never call the Immortal Music Academy this way in front of the Empress Dowager or people from Cifu Palace, as that would be taboo.”

Zhenzhen asked: “The Empress Dowager doesn’t like the Chrysanthemum Department Head?”

“More than just dislike…” The little girl said this far, then suddenly realized: “Oh my, I can’t say, I can’t say. My aunt forbids me from mentioning the Chrysanthemum Department Head to others…”

She covered her mouth with both hands, yet her eyes rolled around as she stared at Zhenzhen, looking as if she was waiting for Zhenzhen to ask more questions.

Zhenzhen suppressed her amusement and said matter-of-factly: “Well, then let’s not talk about it. Are you finished eating? Go back quickly to practice dancing.”

The little girl put down her hands and asked incredulously: “You don’t want to know?”

Zhenzhen said: “I don’t want to know.”

The little girl asked in amazement: “Aren’t you curious?”

Zhenzhen smiled, gently patting the little girl’s face that still had baby fat: “You’ve already said this is taboo, so keep this story in your heart. If it gets out and the Empress Dowager learns you’ve been discussing this privately, she’ll probably make things difficult for you.”

The little girl stared at Zhenzhen for a moment, then suddenly her eyes reddened: “Sister is truly a good person, treating me to pastries and thinking of me in every way.” She immediately jumped up, ran to the door to peek outside, then quickly closed the door, returned to sit properly, and took Zhenzhen’s hand: “Sister is a Royal Kitchen palace servant. Perhaps someday you’ll be assigned to work at Cifu Palace. Even if you don’t go there, you’ll inevitably encounter the Empress Dowager at palace banquets, so I should tell you about the Chrysanthemum Department Head first, lest you commit a taboo like Liu Jieyu did without knowing it.”

Seeing that she had made up her mind to speak, and being genuinely curious herself, Zhenzhen nodded and sat facing the little girl, listening to her tell the palace stories of the past.

“When I was born, the Chrysanthemum Department Head had already left the palace for several years, so I never saw her. But according to my aunt, she was a beauty that comes once in a thousand years, with a neck as long and beautiful as a swan’s, a slender and graceful figure. When she danced, she was as soft as boneless, her waist as flexible as willow branches, her hands and feet seemingly capable of rippling like water everywhere. As for her appearance… it seems she wasn’t particularly glamorous. My aunt thought it should be called ‘clear and beautiful’ – not dazzling at first glance, but elegant and otherworldly. All the male musicians were smitten with her. She only had to look at someone coldly, and that person would feel as if bathed in moonlight, with indescribable excitement in their hearts, sometimes even moved to tears.”

Following the little girl’s description, Zhenzhen imagined the Chrysanthemum Department Head’s demeanor: “She seems to be a cold beauty.”

“Yes, she had a cold temperament and didn’t like to smile,” the little girl said. “Sometimes for the needs of dance, she would smile while dancing, which was quite radiant. But once the dance ended, she would instantly withdraw her smile and return to her cold, indifferent expression. My aunt said she had a ‘world-weary face.'”

At this point, the little girl lifted her chin, slightly lowered her eyelashes, suppressed the upward curve of her lips, and tried her best to present a lifeless expression, gazing at Zhenzhen with indifferent eyes: “Like this, is it world-weary enough?”

“Not enough,” Zhenzhen answered honestly, reaching out to wipe the pastry crumbs from the little girl’s mouth. “At least clean your little mouth before putting on your world-weary face.”

The little girl couldn’t maintain her composure and instantly burst into laughter. Zhenzhen and she looked at each other and laughed. After a moment, Zhenzhen asked again: “Since she was like the moon surrounded by stars in the Immortal Music Academy, wasn’t this Chrysanthemum Department Head living happily? Why was she still world-weary?”

The little girl said: “Probably because she was an orphan and had suffered many unknown hardships even after becoming the department head of the Immortal Music Academy. Later, when the late Emperor showed her considerable favor, she became even more aloof and lazy about being diplomatic with others. Whenever she was unhappy, she would treat people coldly, even toward the late Emperor.”

Zhenzhen asked: “Did the late Emperor like her?”

The little girl smiled: “Of course he did. At every banquet, he would have her lead the dancing, and he most loved watching her perform the Liangzhou dance. When she danced, the hall would be filled with wafting incense, floating colored silks, and falling flowers. The late Emperor often said that the graceful fairy goddesses in wall paintings were nothing more than this. The late Emperor, treating her like a consort, granted her an independent courtyard residence and bestowed upon her the title of Lady, so people in the palace also called her ‘Lady Chrysanthemum.'”

“So did she become the late Emperor’s consort?” Zhenzhen asked again, vaguely remembering that the palace servants had mentioned that there was once an Emperor in the dynasty who took a performer from the Immortal Music Academy as a consort, and that dancing girl even rose to become a Noble Consort.

The little girl answered: “No. The late Emperor liked her and often went to see her. The two would burn incense, prepare tea, and study calligraphy together, but he never stayed overnight at her residence, nor did he ever summon her to his bed.”

Zhenzhen asked again: “Could it be that Lady Chrysanthemum didn’t like the late Emperor?”

The little girl was also somewhat puzzled: “It doesn’t seem like that either. I’ve heard my aunt and the sisters from the Immortal Music Academy discuss privately that Lady Chrysanthemum back then observed the late Emperor’s preferences very carefully. Seeing that the late Emperor enjoyed tea ceremony, she silently learned water ink painting; seeing that the late Emperor wrote excellent calligraphy, she would practice writing day and night whenever she had free time… However, she was different from other palace people. Others, seeing that the late Emperor excelled at regular, running, and cursive scripts, would try their best to imitate and learn these scripts, while Lady Chrysanthemum devoted herself to studying the slender gold script that the late Emperor didn’t particularly favor.”

Zhenzhen thought about it and said: “She knew that the late Emperor’s skills would be hard to surpass, so she found another path to practice. Once she achieved success, she could actually attract the late Emperor’s attention even more.”

The little girl clapped her hands and laughed: “So that’s how it was! I never thought of that before.”

Zhenzhen suddenly thought of her mother, who also knew slender gold script, and asked the little girl: “Have you ever heard of a palace servant named Wu Qiuniang? She also knew slender gold script.”

The little girl shook her head blankly: “Wu Qiuniang? I don’t know, I’ve never heard of her. Among the palace servants I’ve heard of who could write slender gold script, there are not many, and none surnamed Wu.”

Zhenzhen sighed disappointedly: “Then continue with Lady Chrysanthemum’s story.”

“Where was I?” The little girl touched her forehead, then remembered and smiled: “Oh right, about whether Lady Chrysanthemum liked the late Emperor. I think she did, because my aunt and the others all said that Lady Chrysanthemum had been silently waiting for the late Emperor to take her as a consort, but the late Emperor never made his position clear. So Lady Chrysanthemum would occasionally throw small tantrums. Once she argued with the late Emperor a few times, and the late Emperor left in a huff, not summoning her for a whole month afterward. When the late Emperor ignored her, she simply went on a hunger strike, neither eating nor drinking, staying bedridden. One day happened to be the birthday of the Empress – that is, the current Empress Dowager. The late Emperor noticed that the lead dancer at the banquet was not Lady Chrysanthemum, and upon inquiry learned that Lady Chrysanthemum was so ill she was barely breathing. As a result, the late Emperor didn’t wait for the banquet to end before going to Lady Chrysanthemum’s quarters to visit her. He had his own Food Service official prepare her meals and personally brought her medicine. Lady Chrysanthemum complained the medicine was bitter, so to coax her, the late Emperor actually took a sip himself first before feeding it to her…”

Zhenzhen, imagining the scene, was somewhat puzzled: “How did he feed it to her?”

The little girl met her eyes, and her face suddenly reddened: “How would I know how he fed it to her…”

Zhenzhen was also a bit embarrassed, withdrew her gaze, and smiled as she asked the little girl to continue.

“After this incident got out, the Empress was naturally unhappy and made things difficult for Lady Chrysanthemum both openly and secretly. Lady Chrysanthemum was inherently spirited, so she simply requested to leave the palace. The late Emperor agreed, granting her a garden outside the palace for her to live in, though he would occasionally visit her…”

At this point, a woman’s voice suddenly came from outside the door calling: “Xiang Li’er, Xiang Li’er…”

The little girl’s expression changed, and she jumped up in alarm: “My aunt is looking for me. I have to go back. I’ll continue next time.”

She skipped toward the door, then suddenly turned back and asked Zhenzhen: “Sister, what’s your name?”

Zhenzhen said: “My surname is Wu, and I’m called Zhenzhen.”

The little girl nodded: “Sister Wu, your name sounds really nice.” Then she introduced herself: “My pet name is Xiang Li’er, and my formal name is Jiang Zhixi… as in ‘Escorting Jiang Li and Bi Zhi, stringing autumn orchids as ornaments’ – Jiang, Zhi, Xi.”

Seeing Zhenzhen’s quite bewildered expression, she smiled: “You don’t know what it means, do you? Actually, I don’t really understand either… This name was supposedly given by the late Emperor.”

Having said this, she opened the door, called “Aunt” with a smile, and ran toward the woman who was looking for her.