Yinqi had already learned of Zhenzhen’s situation from Yinqi. Though he didn’t know who had sent her here, he didn’t ask many questions, only instructing her to rest peacefully and recover in his small courtyard. He said this place was quiet, and given his status, presumably no one would come here to search for the time being.

After learning of Food Service Director Pei’s tragic fate, Zhenzhen felt her sins had grown heavier and suffered even more. She wept bitterly in secret several times, and her condition repeatedly worsened. She seemed to improve during the day, but would start running a fever again by evening. She discovered that on the night she reunited with her mother, in addition to changing her clothes, her mother had also tied a small sachet around her waist. It was woven from silver threads and contained no fragrant herbs, only a red seed that looked like a bean, though not any type of bean she recognized. Whenever sadness or pain struck, Zhenzhen would clutch that silver sachet in her hand, reminding herself to remember her mother’s words, to maintain hope, because her mother was still waiting for her.

Yinqi had his maid carefully tend to Zhenzhen. He observed her condition himself, sought out good physicians, and brought back medicine to brew for her, but Zhenzhen declined, saying that a cold would recover with a few days’ rest. In truth, she secretly harbored hope about carrying the Crown Prince’s posthumous child and worried that medicine might harm a possibly existing baby.

Zhenzhen asked Yinqi to find her a set of coarse mourning clothes, wanting to observe mourning for the Crown Prince. Yinqi said: “You disappeared from Jujing Garden, and though His Majesty might think you could have drowned in the lake, he surely won’t give up searching for you immediately. Wearing coarse mourning clothes is too conspicuous – anyone who sees would inquire, and once exposed, it wouldn’t just be your affair. I, my maid, and even my family would be implicated, so it’s better not to attract too much attention.”

After speaking, he picked a white flower and gave it to Zhenzhen, saying: “You might wear a white flower daily to express your grief, instead of formal mourning. Given your current situation, if the Crown Prince’s spirit exists in heaven, he would surely pity you greatly and wouldn’t blame you.”

The flower had a funnel-shaped crown with a touch of light purple near the calyx at the top and white at the bottom, like a spreading dance skirt. Zhenzhen took it and asked Yinqi: “What flower is this?”

Yinqi replied: “Datura.”

After several days, seeing that Zhenzhen’s complexion had improved somewhat, Yinqi suggested she copy sutras like himself to calm her mind and nourish her spirit. Zhenzhen also hoped to do some good deeds this way for the Crown Prince and Food Service Director Pei, so she began copying and reciting sutras daily.

Among the scriptures Yinqi borrowed from Tianzhu Scripture Academy was a set of the “Lotus Sutra.” The pages were yellowed and the appearance simple – apparently ancient books collected for many years. When Zhenzhen opened the first volume, she accidentally discovered a page tucked inside with several lines of small characters in cursive script. The handwriting seemed familiar. Zhenzhen carefully examined it and compared it with the sutra, recognizing that it copied a passage from this volume of the “Lotus Sutra”: “At that time, the World-Honored One, surrounded by the fourfold assembly who made offerings, revered, honored, and praised him, expounded to the bodhisattvas the Great Vehicle sutra called ‘Immeasurable Meanings,’ which teaches the bodhisattva law and is protected and kept in mind by the Buddha. When the Buddha finished expounding this sutra, he sat in lotus position and entered the samadhi of immeasurable meaning, his body and mind unmoving. At that time, heaven rained down datura flowers, great datura flowers, manjusaka flowers, and great manjusaka flowers, scattering them upon the Buddha and the great assembly. Throughout the Buddha’s world, there were six kinds of earthquake.”

A line was drawn beside the four characters “manjusaka,” making this term particularly prominent. Zhenzhen concentrated and looked again, suddenly remembering that this handwriting was very similar to Zhang Yunqiao’s cursive script she had seen before. She then recalled that Meng Yunsou had once said the last time she saw Zhang Yunqiao and his wife was at Tianzhu Scripture Academy, and they had left Lin’an after bidding farewell to Meng Yunsou. Thus, this page of sutra text could indeed have been hand-copied by Zhang Yunqiao.

Zhenzhen immediately found Yinqi and asked him to inquire with the old monk who managed the Scripture Academy’s collection whether this page of sutra text was in Zhang Yunqiao’s handwriting. Yinqi returned from his inquiry and told Zhenzhen: “The dharma master was initially unwilling to say, but later I explained that many years had passed, times had changed, Zhang Yunqiao was no longer being pursued, and now His Majesty very much hoped to find Imperial Physician Zhang. Only then did he admit this page of sutra text was from Zhang Yunqiao’s hand. Back then, Imperial Physician Zhang and Food Service Director Liu hid at the Scripture Academy for a few days, then left Lin’an, telling the dharma master upon departure that they wanted to go to Ningguo Prefecture.”

“Then why did he copy this passage of sutra text? What does manjusaka mean? Why did he draw a line beside this term?” Zhenzhen pressed.

“That I don’t know,” Yinqi said. “I only know that datura flowers, great datura flowers, manjusaka flowers, and great manjusaka flowers are four types of celestial flowers. This passage describes how, after the Buddha finished expounding the Great Vehicle sutra, these four types of celestial flowers fell like rain from the sky, scattering upon the Buddha and the great assembly. Imperial Physician Zhang drew a line beside manjusaka – perhaps because he was very interested in this type of flower?”

Zhenzhen asked further: “Do you know what manjusaka flowers look like?”

Yinqi shook his head: “I’ve never seen them. Some say they’re a type of red flower, while others say these four types of flowers exist only in the celestial realm and are not earthly varieties.”

For some reason, the characters “manjusaka” deeply imprinted themselves in Zhenzhen’s mind and wouldn’t fade. That night, Zhenzhen silently repeated the name of that celestial flower and drifted off to sleep in a daze. In her hazy state, she suddenly heard the sound of a pipa, similar to the music she had heard when leaving after reuniting with her mother. She immediately followed the pipa sound, pushing through a thick fog to see a small bridge over flowing water ahead, with a clear breeze and bright moon creating a delightful scene. Under a willow tree at the bridge’s head, an elegant young gentleman in light fur and loose sash was drinking alone under the moon, raising a wine cup to his lips.

Zhenzhen walked slowly closer and discovered the gentleman was actually Crown Prince Zhao Xi, whom she hadn’t seen for many days. Both surprised and delighted, she called out “Your Highness,” but instinctively noticed what was in his cup and frowned, asking: “Your Highness, what are you drinking?”

The Crown Prince turned to smile at her and raised his cup: “This isn’t wine – it’s a cup of water that can forget the affairs of this life. After drinking it, one can step onto the path of rebirth.”

Only then did she remember he had already left her, yet the figure before her was so real, as if he had never disappeared.

She rushed to snatch away his cup and threw it into the river below the bridge, saying through tears: “No, I don’t want Your Highness to forget me!”

“Oh, that’s right, you always taste my food and drink first,” he said with a laugh. “This time, you taste it too – see what this water of severed emotions tastes like.”

Then he embraced her waist, drew her into his arms, and lowered his head to blend a smiling kiss with her lips and tongue.

But she was frightened by the power of that water of severed emotions and pushed him away, spitting on the ground: “Ptui, ptui, I won’t taste it, I don’t want to forget you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh: “I didn’t drink anything. Couldn’t you tell I just wanted to kiss you?”

If he hadn’t drunk it, then all was well. She relaxed and thought seriously for a moment, then asked: “Just wanted to kiss?”

He laughed heartily, embracing her again. After a moment, he asked gently: “Do you regret what happened that night?”

“I don’t regret it,” Zhenzhen answered without hesitation. “I don’t regret anything I did with Your Highness.”

“But I do regret it. The parting came so suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving you with sadness longer than joy…” He was somewhat melancholy, but then a trace of a light smile escaped as he spoke the next sentence: “I regret acting the gentleman before and not taking advantage of the situation.”

She questioned: “If you had taken advantage, would I still have fallen in love with you?”

“Are you certain you fell in love with the gentlemanly me?” he asked seriously, though his eyes still flashed with irrepressible clever amusement. “Before our roast meat appointment, you only treated me like a statue in a temple.”

She was momentarily speechless, yet felt she loved the person before her extremely. She hugged him tightly, fearing he might suddenly disappear. After a moment, leaning against his chest, she said softly: “Your Highness, I want to bear you a child. I hope he would have your eyes, your smile.”

But he sighed softly: “Better not… that would be too hard on you.”

Then he released her and gazed tenderly into her eyes: “I hope you have your own smile every day, whether I’m by your side or not.”

He backed away several steps toward the bridge.

Zhenzhen became frightened again, calling out tremblingly: “Your Highness…”

He smiled and indicated behind her: “Look, Second Brother – he’s brought you deer again.”

Zhenzhen turned to look and saw nothing behind her. When she immediately looked forward again, she found the Crown Prince had already crossed the bridge, his robes fluttering as he walked, still turning to smile at her.

She chased after him, wanting to follow, but saw the bridge collapse with a thunderous crash, falling into the river and instantly leaving no trace.

She looked down and felt that the river was not a river at all, but a sea of red flowers. Each plant had no leaves, only bright red flowers blooming on the branches. Thousands upon thousands of them swayed in the gentle breeze, causing waves to rise in the flower sea. In the hazy view, it also looked like a river of blood.

When she awoke from this illusory dream, the bright moon hung in the sky outside her window, silently casting a layer of pure radiance on her bed through the lattice. She lay still, staring upward, and didn’t sleep again. The next day, she discovered that her monthly cycle, delayed for several days, had finally come. This meant she would no longer have the possibility of continuing her deceased lover’s bloodline.

Zhenzhen expressed to Yinqi her intention to leave Lin’an, and Yinqi agreed to find his younger brother Yinqi to help. She sincerely thanked Yinqi for his past fulfillment of wishes and current care, offered sincere blessings to him and Shen Rou’ran, and suggested to Yinqi: “You’d better go to the Shen family personally to propose marriage, and bring the calligraphy you and Miss Shen practiced together to show Counselor Shen. Tell him that meeting by chance on the same boat is a blessing cultivated in a previous life. Fame and profit can be regained if lost, but once lovers are separated, it’s for a lifetime.”

Yinqi nodded in agreement, praising: “That last sentence of yours is really well said.”

Zhenzhen said sadly: “Those weren’t my words.”

“Then whose were they?” Yinqi asked.

Zhenzhen didn’t answer, but her eyes had already reddened.

Seeing this, Yinqi understood and sighed: “At the Eastern Palace banquet that year, it was the Crown Prince who saved you. Later when I heard about your affair, I secretly thought this was probably a sign of your three-lifetime destiny with the Eastern Palace, but I never expected it would end like this… If I had known you would suffer so much now, I wouldn’t have let you go back then.”

Zhenzhen asked him: “If you had kept me then, you wouldn’t have met Miss Shen. So regarding me, would you keep me or let me go?”

Yinqi thought about it and smiled: “Then you’d better go.”

Zhenzhen couldn’t help but smile too. This was her first genuine smile since the Crown Prince’s death.

Yinqi soon came to Yinqi’s small courtyard and told Zhenzhen that after she disappeared, the palace attendants at Jujing Garden reported she had been swept away by flood water. The officials supervising the lake dam said the water gates had malfunctioned that day, causing untimely gate opening. His Majesty punished several related officials and ordered a search for Zhenzhen’s whereabouts – alive or dead, they must find her. But Yinqi told Zhenzhen not to worry, saying he had arranged everything and would give her an Imperial City Guard patrol soldier’s badge to disguise herself and leave the city.

Yinqi asked Zhenzhen where she wanted to go. Zhenzhen said she hoped to go to Ningguo Prefecture. Yinqi said: “That’s not far. I’ll smooth the way for you along the route.”

Zhenzhen repeatedly thanked Yinqi for his devoted help. Yinqi said: “No need to be polite. I’m helping you like this partly because I can’t ignore my elder brother’s request, and also… I’m fulfilling someone’s trust. Someone repeatedly instructed me to ensure I help you escape.”

Zhenzhen immediately thought: “The Second Prince?”

Yinqi confirmed, saying: “Actually, his situation is also very precarious. Everyone in the palace says the Crown Prince’s affair is related to him… After all, he was usually too good to you and really didn’t hide it. His Majesty heard too much of this and inevitably was influenced by rumors. He’s kept him confined to Qinghua Pavilion, though fortunately he still allows me to visit him… When he heard about you and the Crown Prince, he cried until his eyes were swollen, but still asked me to find a way to save you and escape Lin’an.”

Zhenzhen thought blankly for a long while, then asked Yinqi: “His Majesty is only confining the Second Prince, not thinking of punishing him, right?”

“Court ministers are saying His Majesty intends to send him out of the capital to serve in an outer prefecture,” Yinqi said.

“How is that possible!” Zhenzhen exclaimed in surprise. “Imperial princes of this dynasty have always resided in the capital – there’s never been any talk of sending them to outer posts.”

“So if the rumors are true, it would indeed be an unusual decision. Who would send away a prince, especially one who should succeed as heir apparent by order of succession?” Yinqi said gloomily. “That would be equivalent to announcing to the world that the Second Prince is no longer a candidate for heir apparent.”