They entered the mountain as dusk was drawing near.
The young women had been sitting in carriages for the better part of the day and had long since grown stiff in the legs and sore in the waist. Though they remained mindful of their decorum as proper young ladies, they still couldn’t resist gently rolling their rigid necks, or quietly flexing their slightly swollen ankles beneath their skirts to relieve the aching numbness.
Qin Yao’s carriage and the carriage of the Duchess of Lu Guo were positioned one behind the other. When the Duchess lifted the curtain and stepped out, she happened to catch sight of Qin Yao talking with Wang Yingning and the others nearby. Qin Yao’s profile was delicate and lovely — and strikingly familiar.
The Duchess startled at first, then fixed her gaze on Qin Yao and studied her carefully for a long moment, until an expression of dawning recognition slowly spread across her face.
Her attendant noticed her staring at Qin Yao in prolonged silence and asked with puzzlement, “My Lady, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” A rare trace of warmth surfaced in the Duchess’s eyes. She watched Qin Yao for a moment longer before finally withdrawing her gaze and, taking her attendant’s hand, made her way toward the imperial retreat.
The imperial retreat on Yuquan Mountain had been built with considerable elegance — bedchambers, music halls, everything one could wish for. At the front stood a scenic viewing platform; at the back, a hot spring pool constructed of white jade.
The pool was quite large, capable of holding more than a hundred people. A low partition wall divided it down the middle, separating it into a men’s side and a women’s side.
The young women were assigned their sleeping quarters by the palace nannies, then proceeded to the main hall to pay their respects to the Emperor, the Consort Yi, and the others in attendance.
It was the first time in her life that Qin Yao had ever had the opportunity to see the Emperor up close, and she was deeply curious. She very much wanted to take a careful look at both the Emperor and Consort Yi, yet she was dutiful in observing protocol and dared not stray even the slightest bit beyond propriety.
As it happened, when the Emperor looked out upon the assembled young women in the hall — each one fresh and bright as a newly sprouting orchid bud, filling the hall with a youthful radiance unique to those of tender years — he was moved to cheerful goodwill and spoke with warm benevolence: “Do not be afraid. The reason we have brought you all up to the mountain retreat this time is for you to rest and enjoy yourselves away from the summer heat. Go and amuse yourselves freely. There is no need to stand on ceremony.”
The young women assented. Princess Kangping let out a joyful cry and bounded forward to the Emperor and Consort Yi, wrapping her arms around them with a bright, laughing smile as she began chattering away.
Qin Yao rose and couldn’t help lifting her eyes toward the dragon throne. She saw that the Emperor was approximately forty years of age, with clear, luminous eyes and a remarkably distinguished bearing. And yet for some reason the area around his brows and eyes seemed oddly familiar — as though she had seen them somewhere before, though she couldn’t for the life of her recall whose features they resembled.
After a moment’s thought, Qin Yao inwardly laughed at herself. The Emperor and Prince Lan were brothers, and the Emperor was Lin Xiao’s uncle — naturally his features would either resemble Prince Lan’s or bear some likeness to Lin Xiao’s.
With that thought, Qin Yao set her puzzlement aside and turned her gaze toward the graceful and striking beauty seated beside the Emperor. But the moment she looked, she found she could not look away. The noblewoman appeared to be no older than twenty, with skin like frost-white jade and a face like a water lily in bloom. Her lovely eyes shimmered with a soft, rippling light, and her lips were the deep, vibrant red of a flower in full and reckless bloom. She was, in every measure of the word, a peerless beauty.
Qin Yao thought to herself that this Consort Yi was truly a rare and extraordinary beauty — few women in the world could compare, and little wonder that the Emperor’s favor toward her had not diminished for over ten years. She also found herself curious about what Consort Hui, who had preceded her, must have looked like, to have eclipsed even this matchless beauty — and to have done so even in death, with a child who had outranked Consort Yi’s own son, earning the Emperor’s decree to be named Crown Prince. Such a woman must have possessed either extraordinary beauty and talent both, or something else altogether that set her apart from common people.
Having quietly appraised the Emperor and Consort Yi to her satisfaction, Qin Yao at last swept her gaze across the others present in the hall — and was astonished to discover that accompanying the Emperor on this mountain excursion were quite a number of members of the imperial family, seated at intervals in a row that filled nearly half the main hall.
The Crown Prince and Prince Wu sat below the Emperor. The two men bore quite different expressions — the Crown Prince gazed straight ahead, simply smiling as he listened to the Emperor converse with Princess Kangping. Prince Wu, on the other hand, was distracted, and though he held his teacup in hand, his eyes had drifted to and settled on the face of Xia Yuan, who was standing in front of Qin Yao.
Prince Lan and the Princess Consort of Lan were seated below Consort Yi. Prince Lan still wore his usual air of unhurried, carefree indolence. Cui Shi, however, had clearly taken special care in her appearance — she was dressed in a sheer pale goose-yellow palace gown with a lake-blue half-sleeved over-garment, and a peach blossom floral ornament dotted at her brow. Her powdered complexion gave her such a dewy, youthful air that she looked nothing like a married woman — she appeared even fresher and more delicate than the unmarried young ladies around her.
Below them sat Princess Derong and her consort Xia Hongsheng, with Xia Lan and Xia Di standing behind them. Both the Princess and her husband had their gazes fixed fondly on Xia Yuan, who stood quietly in the hall, wearing expressions of tender devotion as they silently assessed whether their daughter had grown thinner or fuller over these past few days.
Xia Di, however, paid the others no heed whatsoever, and with complete disregard for propriety let his gaze travel openly up and down over Qin Yao. She was dressed in a moon-white, translucent layered gauze skirt embroidered with a scattering of orchid sprigs — a thoughtful and unique touch. Against the competition of so many vivid and eye-catching garments in the hall, this deceptively simple palette made her stand out with a clean, striking elegance all its own. What’s more, her neck was long and slender, her complexion white and smooth as fine jade, and her collarbones were delicately carved and exquisite. After looking for a while, an unbidden and highly inappropriate thought welled up in Xia Di’s mind, and even with a face as thick-skinned as a city wall’s corner, he was startled by his own shamelessness. He quickly pulled his gaze away and dared not look further.
Qin Yao had been silently cursing his entire ancestral line the moment she felt his eyes on her. She was quite ready to act, but held back out of caution — there were many capable and extraordinary people in attendance near the Emperor, and she feared that if she slipped up, the consequences would be unfavorable. Even though Xia Di had eventually withdrawn his gaze, her fingers still itched with the urge to act, and she thought to herself that if she could ever find an opportunity to beat that face of his — which wore the look of a man but the nature of a cur — into a swollen mess, that alone would satisfy her.
Just then, a cascade of bowing greetings from palace attendants rang out from beyond the doorway as someone entered. It was Lin Xiao, who had finished handing off his duties and returned to the main hall to report.
The Emperor looked at Lin Xiao with a warm expression. “When it comes to your handling of matters, what is there for your imperial uncle to be uneasy about? You’ve been working hard all day — rest for a while. Have Xu Shenming help oversee things for a bit. Come, stay and dine with your imperial uncle this evening. Your royal father hasn’t seen you for quite some days either — the two of you should spend some time together later.”
Lin Xiao assented and paid his respects to Prince Lan. “Royal Father,” he said. Then, lowering his eyes, he said with measured neutrality, “Princess Consort.”
Prince Lan was quite pleased and stroked his beard with an approving nod. “Don’t worry about the household — put all your effort into serving your imperial uncle well.” Cui Shi responded with practiced civility: “Young Lord, you have worked hard. When you have no duties to attend to, come home more often — your father misses you greatly.”
“Weijin.” It was Princess Derong who called to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You look like you’ve grown considerably thinner.”
Lin Xiao greeted Princess Derong and Consort Xia in turn. “Uncle. Aunt.”
Princess Derong glanced casually at Xia Yuan, her smile growing warmer, and said to Lin Xiao, “Is it still Nanny Wen in your courtyard who makes your daily clothes and shoes?”
Lin Xiao replied, “Nanny Wen has grown old, and her eyesight is not what it used to be. She only makes the occasional piece now. Most of the clothing has been handed over to the Imperial Weaving Bureau.”
“That simply won’t do,” Princess Derong said with dissatisfaction. “How can clothing from the Weaving Bureau compare to what’s made by someone who knows you well? My household still has a few embroidresses who are quite skilled with needle and thread — I’ll send them to your residence tomorrow. From now on, let them make your clothes.”
As she said this, she thought to herself with quiet regret: though Weijin’s status was illustrious, he was, at the end of the day, a child who had grown up without a mother. Though he had been raised in every luxury, there had never been anyone to truly and wholeheartedly dote on him. What was more pitiable was that while other people had brothers, he had only a half-brother born of a different mother, and Cui Shi was the sort of person she was — there must have been no shortage of difficult moments. Yet Weijin had such a composed, reserved temperament that he rarely let his innermost feelings show. All these years he had appeared serene and untroubled, but no one knew how he suffered behind closed doors.
Still, once the two children were wed, things would be better. She was Weijin’s own aunt and had always been fond of him; Ah-Yuan, moreover, was a thoughtful and gentle girl. Once they were married, with someone beside him to care for him, Weijin would no longer have to be so solitary and alone as he was now.
After the pleasantries were concluded, Lin Xiao mentioned that he had been on horseback all day and was rather sweaty, and wished to return to his room to change before coming back.
Everyone knew he had always been fastidious about cleanliness, so no one tried to detain him, and they quickly let him go.
As Lin Xiao passed by Qin Yao, his footsteps involuntarily slowed for just a moment. With an air of casual indifference, he glanced toward her — and saw that her pair of clear, water-bright eyes were directed ahead, while the corners of her lips betrayed an involuntary hint of knowing mirth. It sat entirely at odds with her otherwise calm and composed expression, betraying her true thoughts in that moment…
Lin Xiao suddenly felt his mood lift considerably, all the fatigue of the day seeming to sweep away at once. In perfect, unspoken accord with her, he allowed a faint smile to cross his lips and strode briskly out.