So sleepy, still wanting to sleep, not wanting to get up…

But early in the morning, she had to receive in the Chunxuan Hall a grandmother of a meritorious official who had been granted a noble title — said to already be seventy years old. Even though she was the empress, she could not make an elderly person wait too long…

It was all Li Xuandu’s fault!

Last night he could have just drunk on his own, but instead he had forced her, mouth to mouth, to swallow at least half a small bottle of grape wine newly tributed from the Western Regions, and then…

In short, there was no sleep to be had.

Pu Zhu was hovering between sleep and wakefulness, forcing herself to open her eyes, but her eyelids were so heavy. Struggling, she rolled over, instinctively wanting to burrow into that familiar embrace, but felt nothing.

She paused and reached out her hand, eyes still closed, patting around blindly.

No one?

Today was a rest day with no morning court, which was why Li Xuandu had been so unrestrained last night. But why had he gotten up first and left her alone so early?

What had he gone to do.

Pu Zhu opened her eyes. What met her gaze was a canopy of soft pink and green bedcurtains; on both sides where the curtain was tied back, several grasshoppers were embroidered on the fabric, their antennae distinct, lifelike and vivid.

She instinctively turned her head and looked at the bedding.

A water-green silk quilt, a pillow embroidered with a scene of lotus ponds and tender willows.

This… this was not the bed in her own bedchamber at all. It looked more like the bed in a well-born young lady’s boudoir…

Could it be that while she slept last night Li Xuandu had played a joke on her?

Wait — this curtain embroidered with grasshoppers, these bed-quilts, and this pillow — they looked somewhat familiar…

Pu Zhu was still in a daze when she suddenly heard footsteps beyond the door, and then a gentle woman’s voice drifted through the curtain: “Has the young mistress woken up?”

“She’s still sleeping. My lady, just now I had meant to wake the young mistress, but then I was afraid she hadn’t slept enough…”

From the tone, it seemed to be a maidservant answering her mistress’s question.

“That girl — she promised to get up early this morning to go to An’guo Temple together, and it’s already long past sunrise, yet still she can’t wake up. And she gets crankier than anyone when she gets out of bed, so spoiled that only her father can coax her.”

The woman seemed to be laughing lightly and complaining to someone nearby.

“The young mistress is always so well-behaved in general. If one doesn’t sleep enough, even adults sometimes get irritable, let alone a child. Besides, yesterday the general set out again for beyond the frontier passes, and the young mistress missed him so much and kept talking about it all night — that’s how she ended up losing sleep.”

A woman with the tone of a nurse also laughed gently, offering an excuse for the “young mistress.”

“Very well, I’ll go wake her then. If she doesn’t get up any sooner, it will hold things up — An’guo Temple is still quite a distance away…”

Then the door was pushed open.

To the sound of light, gentle footsteps, the woman walked in the direction of the bed.

Through the curtain, things appeared hazy and indistinct; the woman’s features could not be clearly made out. But Pu Zhu had already identified this voice and recalled where she now found herself.

The bed she was lying in was the bed from her boudoir as a little girl.

And this woman with the gentle voice and slender figure was her own mother, Meng Shi — her mother who had grown despondent and passed away not long after her father’s death when she was eight years old!

Meng Shi lifted the bed curtain, and met her daughter gazing up at her with wide-open eyes. She smiled, turned to A’Ju and Zhang Ao beside her and said: “She’s awake — no more trouble getting out of bed.” She then sat down on the edge of the bed, took the garments A’Ju smilingly handed over, and helped her daughter dress, noticing she was still slightly dazed. “Shuzhu, are you fully awake yet? Didn’t you say we’d go to An’guo Temple together today to pray for your father?”

Pu Zhu stared fixedly at her mother’s face, then looked down at her own small, pale, chubby hands, and with a sudden movement flung herself into her mother’s arms and held on tight.

After that carefree and abandoned night with Li Xuandu, she had woken up and returned to this year — the year she was seven years old.

Yes.

She was only seven years old right now.

Yesterday, her father had received orders from the court and once again led a delegation out of the capital heading west. The main purpose of this journey was to go to Yinyue City to celebrate the enthronement of the new king of the Western Di.

It was now the end of the year; soon after the new year passed, she would be eight. The eight-year-old that haunted her like a nightmare.

That year, her father would be ambushed and killed in an ill-fated incident. The court would then be rocked by the Liang Crown Prince’s coup, which would implicate her grandfather — and she too would be sent to the frontier.

And of course there was Li Xuandu, her Yuli’er…

She closed her eyes, steadied her wildly racing heart, then abruptly opened them and said to her mother: “Mother, I’m not going to An’guo Temple. You and Nurse go on together. My hands and feet are aching…”

Meng Shi started, lifted her hand and felt her daughter’s forehead for temperature, felt no irregularity, and only then relaxed with relief.

After seeing her husband off on his journey from the capital yesterday, Meng Shi had planned to go to An’guo Temple today to donate oil for the incense lamps. She had intended to bring her daughter along, but seeing her listless and spiritless, she naturally would not force her. She helped her daughter lie back down to rest, thought for a moment, and instructed A’Ju to stay behind and keep her company, while she herself went off with Zhang Ao and the others, taking the prepared items, and rode in the carriage out of the mansion.

The moment her mother left, Pu Zhu could no longer lie still.

Heaven had actually sent her back to this very day, giving her a chance to make up for what had been a lifelong regret.

Her father had only set out yesterday, and with friends seeing him off during the stretch of road out of the capital, factoring in the delays along the route, he could not possibly have traveled more than a hundred li — he might even still be at a post house along the road out of the capital at this very moment.

If she set out after him right now, she could still catch up!

A’Ju was uneasy; the moment the lady of the house had left, she planned to go to the kitchen to personally prepare food for the young mistress, but to her surprise, the girl suddenly threw back the covers, scrambled out of the bed, grabbed her clothes, shook them out, and started dressing herself.

Because the general and the lady of the house had only this one daughter and spoiled her terribly, every morning when she got up, dressing was always done either by A’Ju or the maidservants. Now, seeing her actually dressing herself, and in a great hurry, A’Ju was confused and quickly came back to help her, and also gestured with her hands to ask what was the matter.

Pu Zhu said: “Nurse! I have urgent business and need to go out! Please quickly get a carriage ready for me!”

Had it not been that her body now was only seven or eight years old, with legs truly too short to reach the stirrups, she would have hated nothing more than to ride a horse straight out through the western city gate.

A’Ju stared at her in surprise. Jin Zhen, being the older of the maidservants, hurriedly asked: “Young mistress, where are you going? The lady of the house just left…”

“Quickly!”

The chief steward had accompanied the lady of the house to An’guo Temple in the east of the city, and the Grand Tutor had gone to court as well — there was no one at home to take charge of things.

The young mistress was, after all, still a child — and she was now incomprehensibly insisting on going out by herself like this.

A’Ju was still hesitating when she heard the young mistress say again: “I need to go catch up with Father. It’s urgent! Nurse, be quick — if we’re too late and Father goes too far, I won’t be able to catch up!”

The young mistress’s expression was anxious, and she didn’t look as though she was making a scene. A’Ju immediately nodded, had the maidservants help get the young mistress ready for going out, and hurried to the front of the house herself, instructing the servants to prepare the carriage.

Pu Zhu hastily washed her face; Jin Zhen combed her hair. Being hurried along at every turn, with her heart in a flustered flutter, Jin Zhen simply combed her hair into two plain double buns. She had wanted to make it look a little prettier for the young mistress, who even at her young age was quite fond of looking nice, so she had symmetrically inserted a pink pearl hairpin on each of the two buns, but before she had even secured them properly, the girl was already impatiently on her feet and heading for the door — Jin Zhen had no choice but to grab a small magnolia-white brocade cape embroidered with pink blossoms and trimmed with fur collar, intended for outdoor wear, and give chase.

Of the household’s carriages, there was one large carriage for the master’s outings, and two smaller, simpler green-canopied carriages for the servants’ use. Since the Grand Tutor preferred a sedan chair for his trips to court and didn’t use the carriage, the large carriage and one of the small canopied carriages had already been used by the lady of the house when she left this morning, leaving only the other small servant’s canopied carriage, and even its regular driver was not home today — only his son, a young lad of fifteen or sixteen, could be pressed into service.

A’Ju was somewhat hesitant, but seeing the young mistress get into the carriage and urge departure, she had no choice but to adapt to circumstances, cautioning the young lad to drive with care before climbing in herself. She habitually wanted to call a maidservant to come along as well, but Pu Zhu was afraid that too many people would make the carriage too heavy and slow them down, and immediately stopped her.

She had come out behind her mother’s back precisely to be able to act freely, sparing herself from having to give a lengthy explanation and then possibly not getting her mother’s agreement anyway.

The decision to set out had been sudden, and the young mistress’s attitude was resolute. A’Ju felt as though she were a different person, and truly could not defy her, so she could only do as instructed.

The lad gave a shout, cracked the whip smartly, drove the horse pulling the carriage, and set off from the gate of the Grand Tutor’s mansion heading west toward the Yongle Gate. Once out of the city, following the young mistress’s instructions, he drove with all his might, the small canopied carriage rushing down the road like the wind.

Inside the carriage, A’Ju was badly frightened but could not control the young mistress, so she could only hold her small body in her arms to keep the jolting from being too violent and knocking her off the seat. Setting out from the city like this, they traveled several dozen li in one breath, reaching the post house beside the roadside pavilion. The young lad went inside to inquire and came back out quickly, telling Pu Zhu that the general had just departed from here this morning and should not have gone far.

Pu Zhu ordered them to continue on, and after pressing on another twenty li or so, it was past noon when, in the far distance, she at last caught sight of a group of men and horses on the road ahead.

Recognizing their banners, she confirmed it was indeed her father’s delegation, but for some reason they had halted by the roadside and were not moving forward.

She had the young lad give chase.

The members of the delegation were resting on the roadside when they suddenly saw a small green-canopied carriage hurrying up behind them, coming to a stop. Then a young girl of about seven or eight years old was helped down from the carriage.

The girl was wearing a small magnolia-white fur-trimmed cape, her hair in two buns, raven-black hair and snow-white skin, curved eyebrows and almond eyes — her appearance was exceedingly beautiful, and everyone who caught sight of her felt their eyes light up, all of them staring.

Her two feet touched the ground and she immediately ran in their direction. A vice-official in the delegation who frequently visited the Pu household recognized her as the beloved only daughter of Left Zhonglang General Pu, and quickly called out for everyone to make way and not block the path.

Pu Zhu rushed toward the front of the delegation, her gaze scanning the crowd, and very quickly, at the roadside, she caught sight of a lean yet upright figure.

The instant she saw that figure, her eyes grew warm with unshed tears.

It truly was her father!

He stood at the roadside, in conversation with someone she couldn’t identify. That person had his back to her, dressed in splendid clothing, tall and slender, but with a quality of youthful lean vigor peculiar to young men.

He was likely some noble young man from the capital.

But in this moment, there was no room in her eyes for anyone else. All of her attention was entirely consumed by her father.

Her gaze did no more than flit briefly across that person before coming to rest. She stopped walking, her eyes reddening, staring unblinkingly at her father standing by the road ahead, and called out in a trembling voice: “Father!”

Pu Yuanqiao had received his orders yesterday and was once again setting out as envoy to the Western Regions. After leaving the city, having been seen off by friends along the way, he had been delayed and had only covered twenty or thirty li by midday. He had spent last night at a post house outside the city with the members of his delegation, continued on the road this morning, and upon reaching this point had been overtaken by a nobleman riding hard who had come back into the city late the previous night, entrusting him with some books to be delivered to Princess Jinxi in Yinyue City.

He was in the midst of a conversation with the other man by the roadside when he suddenly heard his daughter calling his name. He turned in the direction of the sound and saw that his daughter had truly come, standing on the road, her eyes as red as rubies looking at him. For a moment forgetting all ceremony, he hastened over, and scooped his beloved daughter up from the ground: “Shuzhu! How did you come to be here? Where is your mother — did she come too?”

Pu Yuanqiao instinctively assumed his daughter had come with her mother, and after speaking glanced behind her, but saw no sign of his wife. Along the road there was only a small canopied carriage of the sort used by household servants, with A’Ju and a young lad standing by the roadside.

It turned out the girl had chased after him alone for sixty or seventy li, traveling most of the day, to reach this point!

Pu Yuanqiao was greatly startled.

It was no short distance — and once one left the city and reached this place, both sides of the road were nothing but deserted villages and wild fields, with sparse traffic of carriages and travelers.

A little girl who had not yet turned eight, accompanied only by a mute woman and a young lad, had just ventured out like this!

Though it was daytime and this was near the capital, one could not rule out some accident occurring — and that would be a serious matter.

He was immediately annoyed, blaming himself for having been too indulgent with his daughter in ordinary times, having let her become so boldly willful that she dared act like this behind the adults’ backs.

A’Ju over there had also seen from the master’s expression that he was displeased and knew she herself had acted recklessly. She hurried over with the young lad and knelt down before the master, begging forgiveness.

Pu Zhu raised her face from her father’s arms, wiped her eyes, and said: “Father, it was your daughter who took advantage of Mother going out to the temple and insisted that Nurse bring me to chase after you. It has nothing to do with Nurse!”

Pu Yuanqiao had been about to scold her a little, but seeing his darling daughter with her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears about to fall, saying these words with her two small hands clutching tight around his neck, full of clinging devotion —

He recalled the way she had stood in the doorway when he left home yesterday, unable to bear parting, and his heart immediately softened. He sighed quietly and said gently: “Don’t cry. Father won’t scold you, and he won’t blame Nurse either. Father knows you can’t bear to part with him. Rest assured — Father doesn’t have much to do on this trip and will be back very soon. You wait nicely at home, and when Father returns he’ll bring you something fun to play with, alright?”

Hearing her father make this gentle promise, and thinking of what had happened in their previous life, Pu Zhu’s emotions surged even more strongly, tears brimming in her eyes. She choked out: “Father, don’t go. Let’s go home. Alright?”

Pu Yuanqiao laughed helplessly, cradling his daughter with one arm and using his other hand to wipe away the tears falling in quick succession, and smiled: “Father has already accepted the imperial decree — how could he treat it as a joke and not go? Father knows the frontier well; it’s better for Father to go.”

Pu Zhu also knew that her father could not possibly halt this journey. Just now it had been a moment of impulse, a childish plea. He could not possibly agree to take her along either.

The most fitting and useful approach was still to give her father advance warning, to make him take every precaution.

She made an effort to calm her emotions, then asked her father to set her down, held his hand, and walked to a less-populated spot by the roadside. Using the pretext that a golden-armored deity had warned her in a dream the night before, she told him about her father’s ambush by a large force of Wuli people during his return journey in her previous life. She emphasized again and again that her father must believe her and stay vigilant on the road.

Pu Yuanqiao listened as his daughter finished her “dream,” then crouched down to look at her and smiled: “This is why Shuzhu was chasing after Father this morning?”

Pu Zhu nodded.

“Alright. Father has noted it, and will be careful. Don’t worry — go home quickly.”

Pu Yuanqiao stroked his daughter’s soft hair, was about to stand up and call A’Ju, when he suddenly saw his daughter tell him to wait a moment, then quickly pick up a slender twig from the ground and begin drawing something rapidly in the mud.

He watched patiently, and very quickly recognized it — his daughter was drawing a map of the Western Regions.

Had it been only a rough map, that would have been one thing. After all, he had sometimes taught his daughter the general layout of the Western Regions during idle moments in his study at home, showing her the approximate locations of the various states — and he himself had been there.

But what his daughter was drawing in the mud at this moment was no sketch.

The map bore the major and minor cities of the Wuli Kingdom and the surrounding states, and not only that — it also showed the principal mountains, rivers, and even the precise locations of strategic passes.

This was truly astonishing.

He was extremely taken aback.

Maps were precious things, and pertained to military secrets; the court’s management of maps was exceedingly strict. Not only were users strictly forbidden from privately making copies under pain of severe punishment, even he himself could not retain them long-term. Each time before setting out on a mission he could collect one from the Ministry of War, and returning was the first order of business — handing the map back as required.

He was absolutely certain he could not have been so careless as to leave a detailed Western Regions map in his study for his daughter to look over. Nor would his daughter have had any other means of access to such an important document concerning military secrets.

How had his daughter come to know this?

He instinctively glanced quickly at the nobleman in question. Seeing that the man was still standing sideways at the place where they had been talking, seeming to gaze at the distant horizon, and would likely not notice what was going on over here, he let out a breath of relief, and immediately shifted his position unobtrusively, using his own body to block that nobleman’s line of sight, then crouched down again, lowering his voice to ask: “Shuzhu, how do you know this?”

Pu Zhu met her father’s grave, serious gaze, used the twig to draw a circle around the place where her father would encounter danger in the future, and said softly: “Father, I know that last night’s dream was real, and you must believe it. This map — the golden-armored deity showed it to me in the dream. I looked at it once and memorized it. Father, tell me — is this map correct?”

Pu Yuanqiao studied the map carefully once more, and felt something close to shock.

He had never believed in gods and spirits, but this time he could not but believe.

He thought it over, swiftly erased the map his daughter had drawn, picked her up, and said gravely: “Father has noted it. Father will absolutely be on guard — not only this place, but all the other routes we will travel through, Father will also keep watch.”

Though Pu Zhu had just finished speaking and had emphasized it again and again, and her father had also agreed with a smile, she could see that in fact her father did not truly believe what she had said, and probably thought it was no more than wishful daydreaming.

She could not feel easy about letting her father set out like this. So she had drawn that map, the contents of which, given her current knowledge, she would have had absolutely no way of knowing, and had marked the location in specific detail.

Her purpose had finally been achieved.

The tone of her father’s voice this time was entirely different from before.

He must have taken it to heart now.

She let out a breath of relief, tossed aside the twig in her hand, and said: “Father, your daughter will wait at home for you to return!” Unable to help herself, she once again buried herself against her father’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his neck, unwilling to let go.

Her darling daughter clung to him with such devotion that Pu Yuanqiao’s heart was tender and soft.

He gently patted her back and comforted her for a while, then, thinking that the members of the delegation were all waiting for him, and that the nobleman he had just been speaking with had also waited quite long enough —

He glanced over again; sure enough, the man had turned his head and was looking in their direction, his brow faintly knit in what appeared to be impatience. Remembering the rumors in the capital that described him as quick-tempered, it was remarkable that he had waited this long without making a sound. And so he said softly to his daughter who still clung to his neck with arms unrelenting: “Shuzhu, Father still has matters to attend to. Let Father see you to the carriage. Prince Qin is here as well, so it wouldn’t do to delay too long.”

She had finally been reunited across lifetimes with her father, yet they had to part again immediately. She had been sinking into that feeling of happiness mingled with reluctance when, through a daze, she heard the four words “Prince Qin” and started. She suddenly remembered the figure she had vaguely glimpsed just now, looked up swiftly, and turned her face — and when her gaze met those all-too-familiar eyes looking toward her, she was dumbstruck.

Of all people to encounter here — Li Xuandu!

More precisely, a young Li Xuandu.

He wore a golden crown binding his hair, dressed in splendid garments, on his feet a pair of cloud-patterned black deerskin riding boots, and at the side of his jade-studded belt hung a sword with a turquoise-inlaid sheath; in his right hand was wound a dark gold riding whip, from whose handle hung an ornamental pendant — a cord made of flat gold rings linked with double gold rings in a rope-like chain — his entire bearing noble and imposing.

Though she had never seen what he looked like in his youth, at this moment, the instant she saw him, despite his completely different attire, she recognized him at a glance.

Because young as he was, in appearance his face was not greatly different from the Li Xuandu she knew later.

If one had to find a difference, it was naturally there, and quite pronounced.

The Li Xuandu she had first encountered was already grown, and his noble bearing carried a faint undercurrent of melancholy; he was not fond of talking.

But the young man before her now — the same face, the same noble air — yet the look in a young man’s eyes was brilliant and luminous, and the gaze he swept toward her carried a faint feeling of looking down upon all the world from above.

Though he visibly made an effort to restrain it, not letting it show too plainly.

“I have kept Your Highness waiting long. Please wait a moment more, Your Highness, while I see my daughter to her carriage.”

Pu Zhu heard her father speaking to him.

His gaze swept over her casually, then turned toward her father with a slight nod and a faint smile, after which he moved his eyes away and resumed looking toward the open fields in the distance.

Good heavens! Though she knew him as intimately as could be — they had shared a bed just last night, and every part of his body, even the most secret places, was as familiar to her as her own hands — seeing the young man before her so handsome and brilliant and outstanding, Pu Zhu found she could not stop her heart from pounding.

She must not keep staring at him like this.

He was not the Li Xuandu she knew from later. He was the proud fourth imperial prince, Li Xuandu.

And she right now was not the wife he loved. She was only a tiny little girl from the Grand Tutor Pu’s household, whom he didn’t know at all.

If she kept staring at him like this, if he noticed, he might be displeased — might even think the granddaughter of the Grand Tutor Pu had a screw loose…

But she truly could not control her own eyes.

In any case, he was turned sideways toward her, and should not notice her.

She lay against her father’s shoulder, using his shoulder as cover, showing only two eyes, and continued sneaking peeks at his profile.

Her father saw her to the carriage, and she couldn’t help it, lifting a corner of the curtain to keep watching. She saw her father walk quickly back; he also came toward her father. The two exchanged a few more words, and she saw him order an attendant to bring a book chest; her father had someone receive it and carry it aboard, and then — she wasn’t sure what more the two of them said — it seemed they glanced toward her direction.

She was startled and didn’t dare look anymore, quickly releasing the curtain flap. A moment later someone approached, and then A’Ju got into the carriage. She heard her father’s voice sound at the carriage window outside.

“Thank you for the trouble, Your Highness!”

“General Pu needn’t stand on ceremony. We are going the same way. It is a long journey; General, take care of yourself and return safely!”

“Many thanks to Your Highness!”

This…

Listening to it, it sounded as though Li Xuandu was going to escort her back to the city?

Very soon she heard her father call softly to her at the carriage window, and quickly lifted the curtain and leaned out.

“Shuzhu, the road back to the city is a bit long; it will likely already be dark by the time you reach home. His Highness the Fourth Prince is warm-hearted and willing to escort you back. You must behave yourself on the road and not make a nuisance of yourself.”

Pu Zhu darted a glance at Li Xuandu.

He stood right beside them; seeming to sense her looking, he slanted his eyes and gave her a sidelong look.

That look in his eyes…

She knew it so well!

Early in their marriage, when they were still quarreling and bickering, he had frequently looked at her this way.

She had finally found a trace of the familiar in the body of this young Prince Qin.

Though she knew full well it was no kind look, her heart had secretly leapt with pleasure. She hurriedly turned her eyes away and nodded obediently to her father: “I understand. Father, don’t worry. Your daughter won’t cause trouble for His Highness the Fourth Prince.” She also gazed at her father’s face, pushing down the feeling of reluctant parting in her heart: “Father, you must be careful! Your daughter and Mother will wait for you at home!”

Pu Yuanqiao knew what she meant. He gave a solemn nod and instructed A’Ju to look after the young mistress well, and the young lad to drive carefully. After giving his instructions, he was about to leave, but seeing his daughter still leaning out of the carriage window gazing at him, unable to part — his heart grew warm, and so he turned back and told her to sit back inside.

“Father!”

Unable to help herself, Pu Zhu reached out again and embraced her father’s neck.

Pu Yuanqiao said his gentle farewells.

Pu Zhu held her father for a little longer, caught a glimpse of Li Xuandu standing nearby with what seemed again to be an impatient expression on his face, and reluctantly let go of her father’s neck and sat back down. A’Ju lowered the curtain flap.

Only then did Li Xuandu come forward, bid farewell to Pu Yuanqiao, mount his horse, and with two attendants in tow, escorted this small girl from the Pu family on the road back to the capital.

The moment she settled into the carriage, A’Ju had her firmly in her arms. There was no more chance to sneak a peek at anyone outside.

She thought of her father, thought of Li Xuandu, her feelings swinging from agitation to elation, then to unease and discouragement.

As long as her father kept her warning in mind, with his experience and ability, he would certainly be able to return safe and sound. In this Pu Zhu was confident.

Her unease and discouragement came entirely from the young Li Xuandu outside.

The crisis on her father’s side should be manageable without major problems.

But she still hadn’t worked out how to prevent, as perfectly as possible, the coup that would take place in the latter half of the following year.

That was not a small matter; its ramifications were enormous, and unlike her father’s situation, it could not be solved with a golden-armored deity’s dream.

Fortunately there was still more than half a year for her to think more carefully.

Sitting in the carriage now, she remembered something else.

After the new year, he would be sixteen. The current Liang Empress in the palace must already be selecting candidates for Prince Qin’s consort — and by the following spring, the chosen bride would be settled.

Very soon he would be betrothed to Xiao Chaoyun, who was still a girl at this time.

Not just Xiao Chaoyun — Li Tanfang, still a young girl, should also be living at the Jiang family’s place by now.

Both were of noble birth.

One came from a prestigious clan, renowned throughout the capital for her great talent and beauty.

The other was a maternal cousin — though she knew that the young man outside the carriage had no romantic feelings toward his cousin, other people including Liang Empress didn’t see it that way; everyone assumed they were childhood sweethearts. What’s more, he himself didn’t even care. He’d marry whoever was put before him, as though it were as simple as eating a meal or drinking a glass of water.

In any case, if nothing went wrong, once this new year passed, Li Xuandu would suddenly have two women at once!

He was her person! How could she allow other women to lay hands on him?

Even if only in name, she could not tolerate it, absolutely could not tolerate it!

But the problem was — she was right now nothing but a little girl from the Pu household. She didn’t even have the qualifications to compete to be included among the candidates for his consort.

If she wanted to continue their predestined bond with him in this life, the only path was to wait. Wait six years, until she was fourteen, and then with her background and appearance she would have every qualification to compete to be his princess consort.

But by then, he would already be a grown man.

Under normal circumstances, how could he possibly wait until then before considering marriage?

So if she wanted to marry him again in this life, there was only one path.

Before she was old enough to marry him, she had to find ways — by any means necessary — to sabotage his marriage! Keep him from being able to wed!

But his taking a consort was imminent.

How on earth could a little girl who didn’t even come up to his waist go about ruining his prospects?

Pu Zhu leaned against her nurse’s arms, thinking with all her might until her head was nearly splitting — and still could not come up with any good plan.