As late spring turned to summer, the weather became exceptionally pleasant. A few days before Qiu Xinran was to leave the capital, she made a special trip to the Second Prince’s residence to visit him during his illness, and happened to encounter Li Hanru there as well. Li Hanyi’s waist and abdomen were wrapped in thick layers of bandages. After coming down from the mountain, he had been bedridden in his residence to recuperate. When Qiu Xinran arrived, the siblings were arguing in the room. Hearing Li Hanyi’s voice full of vigor, it seemed his injuries were recovering quite well.
As Qiu Xinran entered the room, she heard him shouting angrily, “…If you’re so capable, then don’t ever come to my residence again!”
Li Hanru was not to be outdone: “Whoever comes is a dog!” She yanked the door open from inside the room, only to see Qiu Xinran standing innocently at the bottom of the steps by the doorway, rather awkwardly touching her nose, looking like she wanted to turn around and leave immediately. Li Hanru’s hand was still on the door handle, and she couldn’t help but burst out with a “pfft” of laughter.
Li Hanyi inside poked his head out curiously to look. When Qiu Xinran walked into the room, he was still somewhat puzzled: “What made you suddenly think of coming to see me?”
These siblings truly had an infuriating way of speaking. Qiu Xinran didn’t bother arguing with him and took out two protective talismans from her robe: “I’ll be leaving the capital in a few days, so I thought I’d come by before departing to give you two protective talismans.” Li Hanyi reached out to take them, but still had to be disdainful: “Visiting the sick and only bringing two yellow talismans—isn’t that a bit stingy?”
“The Second Prince lacks nothing, so it’s better to give you talismans to change your fortune.”
Li Hanyi laughed self-mockingly: “You also think I’m unlucky?”
Qiu Xinran choked for a moment and couldn’t immediately respond. She had just visited the palace the other day and had already heard the news of Noble Consort Shu’s death.
After the Grand Sacrifice Ceremony, the court publicly announced that the Yulin Army Commander Wei Yi had colluded with foreign tribes and plotted rebellion. The First Prince had died, the Second Prince was severely injured, but fortunately Marquis Dingbei had arrived with troops in time to rescue the Emperor, shooting Wei Yi dead with an arrow and purging the rebellion. The Emperor was safe and unharmed.
Upon learning of Li Hantai’s death in the palace, Noble Consort Shu had been overcome with grief, became mentally disturbed, and hanged herself.
But Qiu Xinran had heard she was actually executed by white silk. In the end, Emperor Xuande had still chosen to preserve the imperial family’s dignity and had not made public what the First Prince and Noble Consort Shu had done. There should also have been considerations for the Second Prince in this decision. After all, if people knew what had happened that day, Li Hanyi would inevitably bear the criticism of fratricide. Brothers turning against each other, flesh and blood destroying one another—and this happening during the Grand Sacrifice Ceremony no less—if word got out, it would certainly invite ridicule from all under heaven.
But this meant that the Eastern Palace would likely never have a place for Li Hanyi again.
Emperor Xuande had inherited the throne from his elder brother Emperor Xuanping, but there had always been rumors circulating that his claim to the throne was illegitimate, obtained through fratricide. Therefore, Emperor Xuande had always been extraordinarily sensitive about this issue. Now that Li Hanyi had killed Li Hantai before his very eyes, even though he understood the full circumstances, from this day forward he would probably find it very difficult to face this son without reservations as he had in the past.
To kill one’s elder brother in order to save one’s father, only to end up being rejected by that same father—there truly was nothing more unfortunate in this world.
Her expression must have been too obvious, because Li Hanyi turned his head away somewhat unbearably to look outside. After a while, he finally said: “Among all the brothers, when I was little, I liked elder brother the most, because he was my only older brother. Later when I had younger brothers and sisters, I didn’t know how to be a proper older brother, so I thought I should probably be like elder brother—that would make me a good older brother.”
The room fell silent. After a long moment, Qiu Xinran heard him say expressionlessly: “He wasn’t a good older brother, and I’m not a good younger brother.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Just then, sounds of cheerful laughter came from outside. In this world, there were few who dared to travel in groups and laugh so merrily at Li Hanyi’s residence. Sure enough, the steward pushed the door open and reported with a smile: “Second Master, several princes from the palace have come together to see you. Should I have them wait outside for a moment?”
Li Hanyi was startled: “Is it Third Brother, Fourth Brother, and the others—who else?”
“The Sixth Prince and Eighth Prince are also here. Quite a few have come.”
“I bet they’re all here to laugh at me.” Li Hanyi muttered as he sat up straight, impatiently instructing a servant nearby to fetch clothes from the rack for him to change into. Yet the expression on his face clearly wasn’t as disdainful as his words suggested. Qiu Xinran heard him clear his throat and say to the steward, “Let them in. Otherwise Fourth Brother with his foul mouth will definitely say I’m using my injury as an excuse to put on airs and slight them.”
Qiu Xinran smiled quietly to herself. Since several princes had arrived, she didn’t stay longer and rose to take her leave. Before departing, she bowed to Li Hanyi and said sincerely: “The Second Prince is a good older brother and a good son.”
When Li Hanru emerged from Li Hanyi’s room, she came face to face with the princes who had just arrived at the residence. Zheng Yuanwu was among them. Since that incident at Fangchi Garden, the two hadn’t spoken. The few times Zheng Yuanwu had seen her in the palace, he had looked like he wanted to apologize for what happened last time, but Li Hanru had avoided him every time.
This time, running into each other at Li Hanyi’s residence, both were startled. Li Hanru was just about to lower her head and leave when she heard Zheng Yuanwu say to the others: “Take this bottle of wound medicine to the Second Prince. I won’t go in.”
The others exchanged glances. Li Hanling asked: “You came all this way, why not go in and give it to him yourself?”
Zheng Yuanwu smiled without answering. The others all had perceptive hearts, and after glancing at Li Hanru standing to the side, Li Hanfeng pushed Li Hanling beside him: “If he’s not going, then he’s not going. Once Second Brother recovers, there will be plenty of opportunities anyway.”
The group, very tactfully, laughed and chatted as they walked into the residence. Soon only Zheng Yuanwu and Li Hanru remained in the small courtyard.
Seeing everyone had left, Li Hanru nodded stiffly at him and was about to leave as well. Before she had taken two steps, she heard the man behind her sigh softly: “Does the Princess never intend to speak with me again?” Li Hanru’s retreating steps froze in place, unable to move forward.
The pomegranate flowers in the courtyard had just bloomed, the low-hanging branches covered with fiery red blossoms. Li Hanru stood beneath the flowers. She wore a lake-blue long dress today, giving her a rare gentle and graceful air, somewhat different from the pampered and radiant little princess in his memory.
Zheng Yuanwu remembered when she was young—just a tiny little thing—often following behind him and declaring that she would marry him when she grew up. Even when Li Hanyi and the others laughed at her mercilessly, she never changed her tune. Noble Consort Chen would hold her on her lap and teasingly ask: “Why do you want to marry Brother Zheng?”
The little child of five or six would make faces at the brothers who teased her, then think for a moment and answer: “Because Brother Zheng has a good temper and excellent martial arts—none of my brothers can beat him!”
Zheng Yuanwu was two years older than her. At such times he could only stand awkwardly to the side, scratching his head and smiling somewhat embarrassedly. Li Hanyi, however, would be quite angry, practically wanting to pounce on her and argue: “How am I inferior to him, you little blind thing!” The siblings would start quarreling again, making the adults laugh heartily.
Later, when she grew older, she stopped mentioning marrying him. Little girls, once they reached fourteen or fifteen, seemed to learn shame—even the most spirited Seventh Princess in the palace was no exception. Zheng Yuanwu studied at the academy, and she came every single time during archery lessons. When Li Hanyi saw her while on horseback, he would deliberately mock her: “Li Hanru, don’t you know shame? A young lady, coming to the training grounds every day to watch men.”
Li Hanru would roll her eyes at him, saying irritably: “I’m not watching you anyway, so what are you ashamed of?”
Li Hanyi asked with ill intent: “Then who are you watching?”
The girl became embarrassed at this point, looking around but refusing to turn her head, stubbornly calling out: “I’m watching whoever is the best here—it’s definitely not you anyway!”
This infuriated Li Hanyi so much that he immediately challenged him to a match. A group played polo on the field, and with his final stroke, he scored. There was a round of cheers from the sidelines. Li Hanyi rubbed his ears in annoyance. Zheng Yuanwu turned his head and caught sight of the young girl with shining eyes, jumping up and down with joy. He paused for a moment, then smiled at her. Her face suddenly flushed red, and she quickly sat up straight, like a little girl who had just learned about propriety.
Now that little girl had grown up, standing beneath the pomegranate flowers, asking him in a rather cold tone: “What does the Young General wish to say to me?”
Zheng Yuanwu snapped out of his daze, as if he hadn’t yet emerged from those blurred memories. After a long while, he lowered his head and suddenly asked: “Would the Princess be willing to return to the Southwest with me?”
Li Hanru froze, as if she hadn’t understood his meaning. After a long time, her eyes widened slightly: “What did you… say?”
Zheng Yuanwu looked at her and asked seriously again: “Would the Princess be willing to go to the Southwest with me?”
The Southwest… When Li Hanru was seventeen or eighteen, she had imagined the scenery of the Southwest countless times. What was that place like? She’d heard it was warmer than the capital, but there were also many mosquitoes. Would she be unaccustomed to it if she went? Every time she thought of this, she would quickly blush, thinking that if Li Hanyi found out, he would surely mock her for being shameless. The other person hadn’t said anything, yet here she was eagerly imagining leaving home one day to go so far away.
Later, she thought she would never have the chance to hear him say these words. Yet suddenly, he had asked.
“Why would you…” The coldness on the woman’s face receded, replaced by a somewhat bewildered and confused expression. “You said before that you were already engaged to the Changping Princess.”
Zheng Yuanwu fell silent for a moment before saying: “That was…” He couldn’t continue. Li Hanru studied his expression, her gaze gradually growing cold as she finished for him: “That was a lie to deceive me?”
Seeing him tacitly admit it, the woman pressed her lips together and asked with a self-mocking laugh: “You would rather make up such a lie to deceive me before—why have you suddenly changed your mind now?”
Zheng Yuanwu couldn’t speak. So she stared into his eyes and suddenly said calmly: “It’s because my second brother can no longer compete for the throne, isn’t it?” She was extremely composed, looking at him as she stated methodically: “You were unwilling to marry me before because the Zheng family didn’t want to get involved in the struggle for the Eastern Palace. You’re willing to marry me now because my second brother can no longer become Crown Prince. You pity me and want to take me to the Southwest—isn’t that right?”
Zheng Yuanwu’s heart lurched as he denied: “No.”
“No to what?”
“My feelings for the Princess… are not born of pity.”
“Not pity, but not love either.” Li Hanru’s face was wooden. “All these years, what have I been to you? A joke?”
Seeing her like this, Zheng Yuanwu felt a pain in his heart and hastily said: “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
“But you’ve certainly made me into a joke.”
Zheng Yuanwu was rendered speechless. His hands beneath his robe couldn’t help but clench tightly. After a long while, he said apologetically: “I’m sorry…”
Li Hanru’s eyes began to mist over faintly as she shook her head, though her face still held a smile: “I did think about marrying you. I thought about it for many years, so long that even after you left, I was still thinking about it. All these years, every time Father Emperor and Mother wanted to arrange a marriage for me, I would think: what if he comes back someday and still hasn’t married, but I’ve already married someone else—what would I do? Later you did come back, and indeed you hadn’t married yet. I was very happy and very relieved.” Beneath the pomegranate flowers, the woman lowered her lashes and spoke these words quietly. When she mentioned those happy moments, she could still recall the feelings from that time and couldn’t help but smile, but the smile quickly faded.
“But later you said you were already engaged. I didn’t blame you then—you didn’t owe me anything. All these years it was my own willingness to wait for you. But now that you say this to me, I feel… angry.” Li Hanru’s voice trembled slightly. “I don’t want it to be like this, Zheng Yuanwu.” She murmured, “If I agreed to go to the Southwest with you today, what would that make my second brother…”
Zheng Yuanwu’s spirit shook. He accidentally crushed the pomegranate petals beneath his feet, and the toe of his shoe was immediately stained with a bit of dark red flower juice, like tears dripping from a lover’s eyes.
Beneath the pomegranate flowers, the woman turned to look at him, her expression distant: “The Young General once wished me an early happy marriage. Now, I also wish the Young General finds a devoted partner and grows old together in harmony.”
When Qiu Xinran arrived at the outer courtyard, only Li Hanru remained sitting alone at the stone table beneath the pomegranate flowers. Her expression was wistful, lost in thought. Hearing the sound behind her, she seemed to quickly raise her hand to wipe the corner of her eye before turning around. Seeing it was Qiu Xinran, the expression on her face was hard to read—whether disappointment or relief.
Qiu Xinran didn’t know what had just transpired and hesitated a moment before stepping forward. Li Hanru sat on the stone bench and suddenly spoke: “Daoist, do you remember you once cast a divination for me?”
Qiu Xinran nodded: “I remember. I divined your marriage fate for the Princess.”
“You said… if I wished to achieve a good marriage, I should avoid saying one thing while meaning another. All these years, I’ve always remembered those words of yours.”
Qiu Xinran recalled hearing that Zheng Yuanwu had also come, but when she encountered that group of princes on the road, he wasn’t among them. She seemed to understand: “The Princess still hasn’t found her destined good marriage. It seems that divination of mine was inaccurate.”
“Your divination was extremely accurate,” Li Hanru laughed self-mockingly, turning to look at her with eyes full of bitterness. “Unfortunately, the person who said one thing while meaning another turned out not to be me.”
Wind stirred the crimson petals scattered across the ground. Spring had passed, and with it seemed to blow away the laughter and sorrows of youth. When the pomegranate flowers bloomed again next year, who would be the ones admiring them here?