Hearing Han Yao say this, Luoyun could not help but smile again.

But Han Yao let out a quiet sigh. “Our family has had nothing but happy news, but things are rather unsettled on my in-laws’ side. My mother-in-law, though not on the same boat as us, followed close behind and was escorted back at nearly the same time. When you and my brother went ahead to accompany Mother, Guiyan and I waited at the dock — but the person who came to receive us was not my father-in-law at all. Only a steward from the Prince Consort’s household came to meet us, and whatever he said to my mother-in-law, she got into the carriage in great haste. When Guiyan and I returned to the Prince Consort’s estate afterward, we could not find my father-in-law anywhere. It seems he and my mother-in-law have quarreled. Last night, my mother-in-law came to find Guiyan in tears, saying my father-in-law wanted to dissolve their marriage — Guiyan was alarmed and immediately went to Father’s courtyard to try to reason with him. I waited and waited, but Guiyan never came back. And then this morning, Mother summoned me into the palace to attend to her during her illness… What has happened to everyone? Just because the Grand Emperor abdicated — is that a reason for my father-in-law to abandon my mother-in-law?”

The smile on Luoyun’s face faded. General Zhao Dong was actually seeking to dissolve his marriage with Princess Yuyang? But she understood that the reason for this middle-aged couple’s estrangement had absolutely nothing to do with the change of imperial succession or Yuyang’s loss of influence.

It was almost certainly because of what Prince Dongping had said to provoke Zhao Dong — those hidden things about the death of his late wife, Huiniang.

If Empress Wang had truly poisoned Huiniang all those years ago for the sake of her daughter Yuyang, then given the depth of Zhao Dong’s attachment to his late wife, how could he bear it?

But before she had time to think further about the Prince Consort’s household affairs, a messenger arrived from the Palace of Jiankang, bearing née Zong’s summons for Luoyun to come at once.

Han Yao took her leave and departed the palace. Luoyun changed her clothes and went to pay her belated morning respects to her mother-in-law.

When she arrived, however, the mother-in-law she had expected to find prostrate in bed after such extremes of terror and joy was in fact standing before a bronze mirror with considerable energy, holding garments up against herself to compare them.

The moment she caught sight of Luoyun arriving, née Zong waved her over without waiting for her to perform her greeting: “You’re up at last. Now that you’ve moved into the palace, you’ve picked up the habit of sleeping late as well? I’ve come to the palace, but your father hasn’t yet issued a decree conferring the Empress title on me. I’m told by the female officials that after such a decree is announced, the court ladies will come to pay their respects. The Empress’s formal ceremonial robes are already prepared, but for taking tea with the ladies this afternoon, ordinary dress would be more appropriate. The trouble is I’ve been away from the capital so long — I have no idea what styles are fashionable now. Come quickly and help me choose.”

Née Zong had always been stubbornly fixed in her own distinctive sense of dress — yet today she had, for reasons unknown, suddenly relaxed that long-held position and was willing to let her daughter-in-law choose her clothing.

Luoyun could not neglect propriety; she quickly paid her respects to her mother-in-law, then began helping her select from among the garments the Office of Palace Attire had delivered.

Fortunately, those below were shrewd people who, upon hearing that née Zong had arrived at the palace, had searched out garments previously ordered by Empress Wang, inquired about née Zong’s measurements, and altered them overnight before sending them up.

When née Zong put on the skirt with its lavish Shu embroidery covering the full hem, she stood staring blankly at her reflection in the bronze mirror. The magnificent silks were of incomparable richness and beauty — yet the woman in the mirror was no longer young. Silver had crept into her hair at the temples, and fine lines had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

If she had worn these robes in the full bloom of her youth, how radiant and dazzling she would have been.

For a moment, née Zong felt a wave of bittersweet grief wash over her. She had thought she would die in that impoverished backwater of Liangzhou — yet here she was today, living to see this reversal of fortune…

Only it had come so late.

With that thought, a surge of sorrow rose within her, and née Zong could not help but let out a choking sob. The palace attendants around her dropped to their knees in helpless uncertainty, anxious about where they might have failed in their service.

Su Luoyun, however, understood the tangled grief within her mother-in-law’s heart. She went over, helped her to a seat, took the handkerchief from a palace maid, and gently dried her tears: “On a day of such great celebration as this, if you cry your eyes swollen, what will the ladies think? Quickly wash your face and get yourself dressed — wait for His Majesty’s investiture decree.”

Now that née Zong had at long last realized the wish of a lifetime, her spirits were high, and she was inclined to do as her daughter-in-law said. She set about washing her face and composing herself.

As she changed into her clothes, she chatted cheerfully with Luoyun: “The first time I laid eyes on your father-in-law, I thought he had the look of a man of destiny about him — a broad, full forehead, a square and solid jaw. Even when other families’ sons came seeking my hand, I had already fixed my heart on him. Later I feared I had read him wrong. Now I finally understand — your father-in-law was one in whom greatness was long in the making. Such imperial fortune as his is meant to be claimed only in the full maturity of life.”

In all Luoyun’s years of marriage into the household, this was the first time she had heard her mother-in-law speak of her father-in-law with such open delight and praise.

Though it was no wonder — née Zong had not only returned to the capital she had longed for across years of dreaming, but had returned as the mistress of the entire palace. Who could truly fathom the feeling?

While she was here making her joyful preparations, née Zong had no idea that back in the imperial study, Han Linfeng and his father the Emperor were in the midst of a dispute.

It emerged that Han Yi had been delaying the investiture decree for the Empress for a reason — because he did not, in fact, wish to invest his wife née Zong as Empress.

It was not that the beautiful women filling the inner palace had turned his head and he had some cherished favorite in mind as a replacement.

It was simply the accumulated grievances of a long marriage — decades of petty resentments between an old husband and wife. To invest her was what was proper and due, but somehow it felt like a wrong done to himself.

Thinking back on how née Zong had quarreled with him repeatedly before he left Liangzhou, refusing to agree with his plans, how he had departed carrying a belly full of suppressed frustration — and now seeing the way she had meekly lowered her eyes upon seeing him the day before — the irritation in him flared up all over again.

If he simply went ahead and invested her as Empress without difficulty, would she not become insufferably pleased with herself?

And then there was his son’s wife Luoyun. Knowing full well the dangers of the capital, she had still traveled a thousand li to bring his son vital information at great personal risk. Now that was what a husband and wife should be.

But his own wedded wife? Not a shred of that kind of devoted concern. When he had sent men to invite her back to the capital after becoming Emperor, she had been frightened half to death by the summons. Had she ever given him so much as half a thought?

The comparison only deepened his dissatisfaction. Han Yi had been carrying a coil of resentment within him for some time, and was inclined to make things difficult for née Zong where her formal standing was concerned — giving her only the title of Noble Consort would be sufficient.

He shared this intention with his son. Han Linfeng, however, frowned and hesitated before saying, “Your Imperial Majesty — have you someone in mind for the position of Empress?”

Han Yi shook his head and said flatly, “Most of the women now filling the inner palace are of noble family origin. Since my accession, the national treasury has been empty, yet these noble families, who control vast tracts of land, have been making endless excuses to avoid paying their taxes — they are trying to make things difficult for me and show me their displeasure. To elevate a woman one of them has presented at a time like this would make it appear that I am afraid of them.”

Han Linfeng understood his father’s meaning, and spoke: “In that case, please, Your Imperial Majesty, invest Mother as Empress. With the position filled, it will also forestall the scheming attention of those who might otherwise covet it, and reduce the bickering in court.”

Han Yi was not unaware of the dangers of leaving the Empress’s seat vacant. He heaved a sigh. “If only your birth mother were still here…”

That gentle and yielding woman had always been the wound in Han Yi’s heart that could not be touched. Had she lived, Han Yi would have wished to shower her with the highest of honors and restore her name.

But Han Linfeng, upon hearing this, quietly spoke to bring his father back to the matter at hand: “Your Imperial Majesty should understand — my birth mother was of foreign blood, and held the rank of a concubine. Even had she lived, there would have been limits to what titles could be bestowed on her. In her lifetime, Your Majesty cherished her deeply, and Mother never made things too difficult for her. Though her life was short, compared with the other women who were offered to Wei and treated as playthings, she had nothing to regret. Mother has always worried about Your Imperial Majesty and spent sleepless nights in Liangzhou on your account. Now that she has finally made it back to the capital with such difficulty — if Your Imperial Majesty issues such a decree, I fear that knowing Mother’s temperament, she would fall gravely ill from grief and heartbreak… She is, after all, Your Imperial Majesty’s wedded wife.”

In pleading thus on née Zong’s behalf, Han Linfeng had motives beyond simply not wishing the Empress’s seat to remain vacant and give rise to complications. The rest was simply the feeling of a son.

His birth mother had died young. The Wang Consort — née Zong — had been lax in managing him and had not disciplined him well, but she had never truly mistreated him.

Most importantly, she had been willing to register him under her own name, which had allowed Han Linfeng to stand as legitimate eldest son and inherit the Shizi position in proper order.

Though née Zong had had her own calculations behind this, Han Linfeng remained genuinely grateful for that weighty act of grace.

So while his feeling for Mother née Zong might fall short of deep love, he had always held her in respect. He had also looked after née Zong’s son and daughter with care, carrying himself as a true elder brother.

Now that his father harbored grievances against Mother, he as the eldest son had a duty to speak up and counsel him — to prevent unrest within the inner palace.

Han Yi also understood clearly what kind of reputation he would invite if he cast aside his wedded wife the moment he became Emperor.

Whatever faults née Zong might have, she had come to know him when he was still a man of humble standing. To deny his wedded wife her dignity at the very moment he became Emperor would be difficult for outsiders to understand.

Let alone outsiders — even his own son, who had no knowledge of the accumulated grievances between husband and wife, clearly could not understand it.

He turned it over in his mind, then gave a long sigh: “Very well.”

The Emperor picked up his brush and wrote out the decree of investiture, naming née Zong as Empress Duanning Cixian — the Empress of Upright Serenity, Compassion, and Virtue. He sent a eunuch to the Palace of Jiankang to read it aloud.

The title “Duanning Cixian” was naturally not chosen because the new Empress embodied these four virtues. Rather, as one supplements whatever is lacking according to the five elements, she was being given what she lacked through the title itself — and moreover, the choice carried within it a pointed message.

However, while he had granted née Zong the title of Empress, he did not entrust her with authority over the six palaces. Citing the Empress’s delicate health and her current unsuitability for managing the inner court, he delegated the administration of the six palaces temporarily to the chief female official of the palace.

Han Linfeng recognized this as the greatest concession his father could be expected to make, and said nothing further.

When née Zong received the decree, however, upon hearing that she had only the title of Empress with none of the authority over the six palaces, she shot immediately to her feet, poised to stride into the imperial study and demand an explanation from the Emperor.

An elderly palace matron who had accompanied the eunuch with the decree stepped forward with a graceful bow: “Congratulations to Empress Duanning on your investiture today. This servant’s surname is Zhou — under the Grand Emperor I served as a female official responsible for instructing palace consorts on matters of ceremony and protocol. By His Majesty’s command, I am here to assist the Empress in familiarizing herself with palace regulations and etiquette.”

Sheng Mama, who had come from the Beizhen princely estate and served at née Zong’s side, raised an eyebrow and said, “The Empress of an entire realm sets the standard for conduct with her every movement. Surely she does not need to study regulations alongside the palace consorts?”

Nanny Zhou was an old hand at the palace, long accustomed to watching consorts and ladies rise and fall. She had a particular connection with the senior eunuch who served in the imperial study — and that eunuch, when conveying the Emperor’s instructions to her, had specifically mentioned that the Emperor had not truly wished to invest his own wedded wife as Empress, that this husband and wife had been constantly at odds, and that their relationship was by no means a harmonious one.

So the Emperor had sent her here on this errand with the clear purpose of correcting the new Empress’s behavior.

With that understanding, Nanny Zhou could find her footing in the conversation with some assurance. She did not so much as raise her eyes at Sheng Mama’s words, but replied in measured, unhurried tones: “This servant does what His Majesty has instructed. Only — the palace is not like an ordinary household. Even the distances between one palace and another are considerable. Should the Empress wish to seek an audience with His Majesty, she may send word half an hour in advance, and go once she has received His Majesty’s reply. If she were to go without notice, she might chance upon civil and military officials who are meeting with His Majesty on affairs of state — which would only waste the Empress’s own time.”

Née Zong had herself assigned a nanny to instruct her daughter-in-law in propriety when she first married into the household. She had hardly expected that on her very first day as Empress, the Emperor would already be setting rules for her.

Fortunately, she understood that her husband was now a man in an entirely different position from before, and genuinely burdened with affairs of state. So she said coldly to Nanny Zhou, “Very well. You may withdraw if you have nothing further. I will send for you when I have need of you.”

Nanny Zhou made no reply. She performed her bow and retired with downcast eyes.

Nevertheless, Empress née Zong did not rush to seek an audience with the Emperor to demand her authority over the six palaces.

After all, her husband had become Emperor, and she ought to give him face. And she had indeed been genuinely ill before this. She could wait a few days, recover from the fatigue of the journey, and then address the matter of her authority later.

For now, what mattered most was that in a short while, the court ladies of rank from every noble household were coming to pay their respects to her.

Thinking of how the Jun Ducal household had once framed her father and shamed her family, and then there was the humiliation of breaking her daughter’s betrothal — Empress née Zong’s teeth itched with loathing. When she saw that old poisonous woman from the Jun Ducal household in a little while, if she did not give her something to remember, then the Empress’s seat would be wasted on her entirely.

With that thought, Empress née Zong felt her spirits sharpen considerably, and she prepared herself to meet her old acquaintances and new ones from the capital in full form.

Luoyun also went to the Palace of Jiankang to congratulate her mother-in-law on the investiture. After performing her kowtow, she spoke to the Empress about the current state of affairs in the capital, and took care to offer a word of counsel: “Mother Empress, we have only just returned to the capital from Liangzhou, after all. His Majesty also needs to draw the old ministers close and have them assist with the affairs of state. The Duchess of Jun, because of the offenses she committed against us, has been in a state of anxious fear. She even came to my palace sometime ago with a bundle of brambles on her back to beg forgiveness. When you see her — please do not make things difficult for her.”

Upon hearing this, Empress née Zong let out a cold laugh. “That vicious woman nearly caused the complete ruin of my Zong family. Am I supposed to lightly forgive her just because she has the shamelessness to get down on her knees?”

Su Luoyun said softly, “Everything should be considered from the long view. That woman is detestable, it is true — but the Jun Ducal household is a lineage of generations, and moreover they have earned merit for protecting the Ninth Prince’s orphan during the upheaval. If they were treated unkindly, it would reflect poorly on His Majesty’s reputation…”

Before Luoyun had even finished, Empress née Zong said with impatience, “That’s enough. I may have been away from the capital for many years, but I am still a woman who came from an official household. Do you take me for some country woman who knows nothing of propriety, that you must instruct me in everything?”

Seeing her mother-in-law’s irritation, Luoyun naturally knew better than to press further. She recognized when to stop, rose, offered her farewell, and departed.

Sheng Mama, inserting the phoenix pins into Empress née Zong’s hair, murmured, “This is the habit she got from managing the common household funds at the Liangzhou estate — she has gotten so used to running things that she presumes to manage even the Empress. In this servant’s view, it is the Crown Princess who truly ought to have Nanny Zhou sent to instruct her in proper conduct.”

Empress née Zong dismissed this with an easy smile. Her mood was good, and she was not inclined to fuss over small things. As for the counsel Luoyun had offered her just now, by the time she had drunk a few sips of tea, it had been entirely forgotten.

As for Luoyun herself — knowing that her position was different now, she could hardly respond to her mother-in-law with the same uninhibited frankness she had shown back in the Liangzhou estate. Here in the palace, eunuchs and palace maids were everywhere; she could not afford to be the subject of loose talk. She had decided not to invite further annoyance.

When her mother-in-law staged her grand banquet to receive the ladies of the noble households, Luoyun would be perfectly able to use her indisposition as a legitimate excuse and enjoy a quiet retreat on her own.

On this particular day, however, she had a caller of her own to receive in her palace — not someone from a great aristocratic house, but her old friend, the daughter of the Lu family, Lu Lingxiu.

Lu Lingxiu’s husband was Lv Ying, a personal guard of the Sixth Prince.

After the palace rebellion was suppressed, Lu Lingxiu’s husband had found himself among those implicated.

By now, Empress Wang and the Sixth Prince had both been stripped of their titles and confined in the Office of Imperial Clan Affairs. Per the wishes of the Grand Emperor — the former Emperor Weihui — the new Emperor had not put this mother and son to death; they would simply spend whatever remained of their lives as prisoners, in a state worse than death.

The associates of the Sixth Prince’s faction, however, had been shown no such leniency. In a very short time, many of the Sixth Prince’s close confidants across the capital had been seized and thrown into prison.

Lu Lingxiu’s husband Lv Ying had been counted among the prince’s inner circle and sentenced to death along with the others, placed in the imperial dungeons.

Lu Lingxiu had gone to considerable trouble, calling in her father’s connections, just to get word to the Crown Princess — hoping the Crown Princess, out of regard for the friendship between them, might save her husband’s life.

After Su Luoyun received the message and learned of her friend’s plight, she immediately appealed to Han Linfeng, explaining the depth of her bond with Lu Lingxiu and asking him to grant a special pardon for the husband.

After all, a minor guard was nothing more than someone who followed orders. He had not done anything truly harmful or monstrous. Whether he lived or died was entirely a matter of a word from those above.

Han Linfeng agreed without hesitation — though he could not resist slipping in a seemingly casual remark to probe Luoyun, asking whether that Lu gentleman had written to her again at all.

Su Luoyun recognized that her husband, for all his apparent open-heartedness, occasionally revealed a flash of petty jealousy.

She simply smiled, and while straightening his collar with her hands, said, “Rest easy. You are the Crown Prince now, and I am the Crown Princess. If any witless person were to send me frivolous letters again, they would be gambling the lives of their entire household on a passing fancy. I may have a face that is reasonably pleasing, but I am hardly Daji come to earth — I am not the sort who inspires men to stake their lives for a few verses of romance.”

Han Linfeng heard her complimenting herself on her own appearance, and a slow, shallow smile curved at the corners of his lips.

As for her claim that she was not the sort to bewitch people the way Daji had — he was not remotely convinced of that.

Most women, after becoming pregnant, grew puffy and heavy. But this little minx of his, since the start of the pregnancy, had been sleeping a great deal and occasionally looking listless — yet somehow her complexion had grown finer and more luminous than before. She had not yet begun to show, and her waist remained as slender as ever. As for elsewhere… she had filled out in ways that gave her the rounded allure of a beauty in classical style, and was in fact more lovely now than she had been as a girl when she had always tended toward a certain leanness.

It was a pity that this enchanting little creature could only be held close each day without anything more to show for it. Han Linfeng found himself sincerely hoping she would deliver quickly — otherwise he would be reduced to the famous virtue of Liu Xiahui before long.

When Luoyun found herself with a free moment, she summoned her good friend Lu Lingxiu into the palace for a visit.

She had few close friends in the capital. Lu Lingxiu had been one of those steadfast companions who had stayed by her side through her darkest days.

So when the two of them finally met, and Luoyun saw how haggard Lu Lingxiu had become, how many years seemed to have aged her face, her heart ached.

And Lu Lingxiu herself was swept by a torrent of complicated feelings, struck by the capriciousness of fate. She remembered how not so long ago she had been brimming with happiness as she told Luoyun about her ideal match, even sighing with sympathy over Luoyun’s misfortune — to have been claimed by a dissolute wastrel of a Shizi.

Who could have imagined that the wastrel of those days would become a dragon in a single leap, now honored as Crown Prince? While her own husband had been thrown in chains and barely escaped being separated from her by death.

Looking at things now, Luoyun was the one who had truly been blessed by fortune.

After Lu Lingxiu had performed her bow, Luoyun dismissed the attendants, keeping only her most trusted personal maid. Then she crossed the room herself, took Lu Lingxiu by the hand, and had her sit beside her.

“There is no one else here — you need not stand on ceremony. If anything, I was the one who was thoughtless: I had forgotten about the connection between your husband and the Sixth Prince and failed to intervene earlier. You must have been sick with worry all these days.”

Lu Lingxiu had not expected that Luoyun, having risen to such heights, would still receive her with such natural, unassuming warmth.

Tears welled in Lingxiu’s eyes, and she said with deep feeling, “As a personal guard in close service to the Sixth Prince, naturally one rises and falls with him. If not for your intercession, how could he have been released so quickly? When all is said and done, this is what fate has ordained — you cannot be blamed for any of it. When this match was first arranged, how delighted my father and mother were, thinking the Lu family had found its way onto a high branch. Yet who could have foreseen that the Sixth Prince would be guilty of such unspeakable crimes? When it first happened, my father urged me to quickly seek a divorce from Lv Ying and cut all ties with him. But we had already had a son together, and had been husband and wife for more than two years. I could not bring myself to let go — which is why I gathered my courage and came to you, shameless as it was.”

Luoyun smiled gently. “You are a loyal and devoted person. I am sure your husband understands what you did for him. You will have peaceful and smooth days ahead. Now stop crying — your eyes are the prettiest thing about you. It would be a shame to make them swollen.”

Hearing the Crown Princess speak in that soft, gentle way, Lu Lingxiu felt herself transported back to the years of girlhood — back when Luoyun’s eyes were still clear and undimmed, when the two of them would curl up together for hours, trading whispered confidences all day long without ever tiring.

The tension that had been wound tight within her gradually unwound, and the two old friends fell into easy conversation about the small details of daily life.

Lu Lingxiu’s plan was that once Lv Ying was released from prison, she would not let him seek government office again, but instead have him learn the merchant trade from her father. However much the lure of status and riches drew people, if one lacked the wisdom to read the times, one would be walking on ice, never knowing which day might bring the fall of one’s head. Better by far to conduct oneself honestly in trade.

Lu Lingxiu also asked after Luoyun’s father — whether he had come looking for her.

After all, with a daughter who had risen in a single step to become the Crown Princess, Su Hongmeng’s character being what it was, he would surely come around seeking advantages.

Luoyun smiled and said, “My father is a timid man. It seems he fled to the ancestral home in the countryside during the upheaval, and he hasn’t returned yet. Even if he did want to come and see me, he would have to queue up for a palace token — it is not as though he can see me simply because he wishes to.”

Since returning to the capital, Luoyun had made no deliberate effort to bring the Su family to her side. After her marriage she had maintained no real connection with her father, and she had no intention in future of supporting him into some official position.

Otherwise, knowing Su Hongmeng’s character, he would be a corrupt official without question — and nothing but a stain on the name of Han Linfeng, the Crown Prince.