Outwardly, Princess Yang’a was all fury and pride, an image of cold elegance, declaring that even if the Marquis knelt to beg forgiveness, she would remain unmoved. But in truth, she was already wavering, longing to return home but unable to swallow her pride, and afraid that the Marquis might truly stay stubborn to the end. She didn’t truly want to break off her marriage. After waiting several days with no news, she couldn’t help herself and went to the Empress Dowager to complain tearfully.
The Empress Dowager, wise from years of palace life, saw through her at a glance and advised reconciliation. Since the Marquis hadn’t yet come to fetch her, she decided to give him a little reminder and assigned the task to the Empress.
Meng Guqing sent Han Gugu, an experienced palace matron from the Empress Dowager’s quarters, to act as mediator. Though she worked under the Empress, she was ultimately one of the Empress Dowager’s people and carried significant authority. With both the Empress Dowager and Empress paying attention, there was no risk of punishment, plenty of face was given. If the Marquis had any sense at all, he would take the hint.
But Marquis Anyi proved incredibly obstinate. Even the worldly-wise Han Gugu returned defeated.
Meng Guqing sighed to her maids, “A burning hot potato, this is something I can’t handle.”
Fusang said, “That Marquis Anyi seems quiet and reserved, but he’s bold and stubborn. Han Gugu’s visit wasn’t just a personal plea; it carried the Empress Dowager’s implied will. How could he dare refuse? Isn’t he afraid of angering Her Majesty and bringing ruin upon himself?”
“Indeed,” Meng Guqing agreed. In this age, punishment often extended to one’s entire family. Even if Dong Min were head-over-heels in love, he should still think of his kin. Remembering that the Marquis had lost his mother the previous year, Meng Guqing began to understand a little.
It was simple: Dong Min had been treated as a valuable asset by his father since childhood, used for political advantage. Marrying the highborn Princess Yang’a had freed him from that fate. Perhaps, at first, their marriage had been sweet, but she was still a royal princess, used to grandeur and commanding ways. It was said that all the servants around the Marquis were elderly women, and even when he took walks, he was followed by the princess’s attendants. The only time he could breathe freely was when visiting his mother.
Outwardly honored as the princess’s husband, in truth, he lived with no freedom at all. After ten years of such a life, no amount of luxury could keep him content. And with his mother gone, even his last escape was gone too.
Since the princess couldn’t bear to see him look at another woman, he went and did exactly that. Since she threw out the woman he cared for, he brazenly brought her back. His actions might well be both a declaration of love and an act of rebellion, seeking not just a concubine, but a measure of control over his own life.
So when the Empress sent people to mediate, he responded with cold indifference.
Meng Guqing, analyzing things from the Marquis’s perspective, wasn’t completely wrong. The Empress’s envoy failed, and even the Empress Dowager’s chief steward, Fanchun Gugu, personally stepped in. Under her stern supervision, the Marquis finally fetched the princess home, and the couple appeared reconciled. After staying a few days at their residence, Fanchun Gugu returned to the palace satisfied.
But within days, Princess Yang’a was back and this time, it was worse. The Marquis had stopped returning home entirely, living openly with Wang Fu. Furious, the princess sent people to drag him back by force, but he escaped over the wall at night and vanished without a trace.
The princess ransacked Wang Fu’s house, struck her several times in rage until the once-beautiful woman’s face was swollen beyond recognition. But the Marquis never appeared. Now truly panicked, Princess Yang’a entered the palace begging the Empress Dowager to send the Imperial Guards to search for him.
The Empress Dowager was livid. Royal dignity could not be trampled upon. Marquis Anyi, relying on the princess’s affection, had defied imperial authority time and again; if word spread, even her decrees would be seen as empty. This time, she swore to make him learn his place, frightening Princess Yang’a so much she dared not utter a single protest.
“Royal Mother, please calm your anger,” Princess Yang’a pleaded. “He’s still Minzhi’s father, and after so many years of marriage… I—I still wish to live well with him. This isn’t all his fault, it’s that wretched girl Wang Fu! When I left her family, I even took pity and gave her three hundred taels of silver. And what does she do? Sneaks back to the capital, seduces the Marquis, lets him keep her outside! If not for his filial mourning, they’d have already done something shameful—”
Her words spilled in a torrent. By coincidence, the Empress and Noble Consort Xu had just entered to pay respects and overheard her tirade. Meng Guqing noticed Noble Consort Xu’s head drop, her face flushed, clearly she had taken some of the princess’s scolding personally.
Princess Yang’a, caught up in anger, noticed none of this. Seeing her mother’s displeasure, she quickly softened her tone. “Of course, I was wrong too. Mother always taught me to be more tolerant. A husband should have his own career, and I’ve kept him too tightly bound to me. I know my mistake now. I’ll live in harmony with him from now on. Please don’t blame him anymore.”
It was clear the princess had been worn down, fine lines now marked the corners of her eyes. The Empress Dowager, having been ill earlier that year, no longer had the strength to intervene. Finding the Marquis was not something the women of the harem could handle, it would have to go through the emperor. So, once again, the Empress was tasked with relaying the princess’s plea to the throne.
That night, Zhao Donglin returned very late. In fact, he’d rarely visited the inner palace recently. While others assumed he was busy, Meng Guqing knew better, he’d been traveling incognito, not for pleasure, but to listen to the discussions of scholars gathering in the capital for the upcoming civil examinations. The teahouses and inns were buzzing, and debates on politics were exactly what interested the young emperor most. Blending into the crowds, he heard many fresh and thought-provoking ideas.
He returned full of excitement, sharing his findings eagerly with the Empress. Whenever Meng Guqing saw that bright, open smile on his face, heard his animated talk, she knew he didn’t really need advice, he just wanted someone to listen. So she smiled softly, poured him good tea, or peeled a green fruit and shared it with him.
Zhao Donglin’s reason for gathering public opinion, in truth, was aimed at Jing Wang, whose military power he had long feared. The Empress understood perfectly well what he intended, yet she never once spoke in favor of the Donghu faction or grew close to Jing Wang’s family. His trust in her was genuine, and her loyalty was exactly what he’d hoped for.
That kind of mutual understanding, the feeling of having one’s sincerity returned, was intoxicating. For the first time, he truly believed his mother had been right: his cousin, the Empress, was indeed the one most worthy of him.
“Empress, I’m so happy,” Zhao Donglin said, taking Meng Guqing’s hand. But as his excitement ebbed, he realized she had remained calm throughout, composed, as always. Outside the palace she was firm and decisive, yet before him she was always so still, so unreadable. His enthusiasm dimmed. “Empress, aren’t you happy?”
“There’s nothing for me to be unhappy about,” she said with a faint smile. His joy warmed her, but it still felt distant from her own heart. Before he could question her further, she added, “The princess came to the palace today. She said the Marquis has been gone a long time, nowhere to be found, and asked for Your Majesty’s Imperial Guards to search. The Empress Dowager told me to let you know.”
Zhao Donglin had already heard bits of the drama between his sister and her husband, but hadn’t had the energy to interfere. Truthfully, he still sided with his family. Dong Min should have known better, he married a royal princess; there were things others could do that he could not.
Of course, the princess was also at fault for treating her husband like a possession. Of all his royal sisters, she was the only one so extreme, earning endless gossip outside the palace. His mother had always shielded her, but she was grown now and still causing trouble.
Meng Guqing finished the task the Empress Dowager had entrusted her with and was ready to leave it at that. But after hearing the young emperor’s offhand tone, saying that the princess forbidding her consort from getting close to others was no big deal, she hesitated several times before finally couldn’t help but refute him.
“Actually, it’s not just the princess. No woman would ever wish for her husband to be with someone else. It has nothing to do with virtue or moral conduct. love itself is inherently possessive, exclusive, and jealous. The princess might have a reputation for being fierce and jealous, but in truth, countless noble ladies secretly admire and envy her for daring to love and act as she pleases; they just can’t say it aloud. Your Majesty may not know this, but in Luosai City, not far from Gaochang, monogamy is the norm, even the city lord has only one wife. One of my cousins married there, and all our sisters envy her.”
In the past, Meng Guqing would never have brought up modern notions of love to anyone. But since the young emperor had opened himself to her, wanting her to understand him, she felt she could also show him her own way of thinking. With how passionate he was, this contradiction between them would have surfaced sooner or later. If he thought her ideas were outrageous and thus grew distant, perhaps that would be for the best, for both of them.
Having voiced what she had long kept buried in her heart, Meng Guqing left the choice to him. Without caring what expression he made upon hearing those words, she stood up and called for Caiwei to prepare water so she could wash up. She turned toward the bedchamber to change her clothes, but had barely taken two steps when a sudden gust of force came from behind, she was pulled into someone’s arms.
He spoke in a dazed tone, “So the Empress has always thought this way. That’s why you…” He couldn’t bring himself to accuse her of coldness. “No wonder you praise Tan Ying so highly, was it because he once said that if he couldn’t marry Miss Xu, he’d rather live alone for the rest of his life?”
Zhao Donglin did not think the Empress’s views were heretical. After all, Princess Yang’a had been such an unconventional example since his youth. Yet amid his turmoil, a pang of guilt rose in his chest, thinking of the marriage he had refused, and of the other consorts in his harem, all of which went against the Empress’s ideals. Looking at her solemn, steadfast gaze under the lamplight, at her slender back as she turned away, he suddenly felt a sense of absurd panic as if she were walking out of his life altogether.
His body acted faster than his mind. By the time he realized it, he had already pulled her into his arms. Feeling the warmth of her body against his, the unease in his heart began to fade. But after saying that one line, he didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to make a promise on the spot, to reassure her, to beg her not to turn a blind eye to his feelings but he also knew that, no matter what he said, there were still others between them. That was an undeniable fact.
She waited for a long time, but he said nothing more. Meng Guqing turned around and unexpectedly met a pair of eyes filled with tender affection and to her surprise, a hint of sorrow she had never before seen in his face. Her heart dimmed slightly. She had not meant to challenge the worldview he had grown up with, nor did she flatter herself into thinking she could change him. Seeing him like this, she even felt a little sorry. Softly, she said, “Your Majesty, please sit for a while. I’ll ask Feng Gonggong to prepare the bath.”
He needed time to think things through. Once he did, he should stop wasting his time on her and go on with his life. His passion, to her, was only a burden.
With that hopeful thought, the weather grew warmer by the day. As winter ended, indoor activities gradually moved outdoors. Bathed in gentle spring light, she would sometimes move her long desk beneath the veranda, drink tea, admire flowers, and chat with her two maids, a tranquil and pleasant life.
The biggest news lately concerned Princess Yang’a. Her consort had finally been found, he’d been hiding in a monastery outside the city. If not for an acquaintance spotting him and passing on the word, who knew how long he would’ve stayed hidden. After a great quarrel, the two finally ceased hostilities. The consort openly began seeing Wang Fu, and rumor had it they even went on an outing together by the Huaiyang River. Princess Yang’a was so furious she vomited blood, but she dared not ask the Empress Dowager or the Emperor to intervene, fearing their “solution” might be to directly eliminate the source of the problem.
She also dared not trouble Wang Fu anymore, since her consort had made it clear that if anything happened to Wang Fu, he would not live either. The princess, restrained by this, was endlessly aggrieved. Even Caiwei, who had never spoken kindly of Princess Yang’a, couldn’t help sympathizing and said the princess might as well kick the consort out and find a new one; after all, Princess Changle, who was widowed, was already being granted the right to choose another husband at her mother’s request.
Fusang, however, disagreed. She said Princess Yang’a’s consort had been chosen by the princess herself; for her to endure even the consort’s family’s disgrace showed how much she loved him. After ten years of marriage and such deep affection, it wouldn’t be easy for her to let go.
Whether or not she could, it would have to wait. The young emperor’s attention was focused on the upcoming imperial examination, while the Empress Dowager had gone to the Western Hills to soak in hot springs at the invitation of the Old Princess Cheng.
After the New Year, the Empress’s dowry estates sent a batch of fresh produce. Meng Guqing personally sorted and prepared them, making four or five types of hotpot bases, rotating through them each day. Winter was the best time for hotpot, though the lack of fresh vegetables made it tricky. Taking advantage of the last days of cold weather, everyone in Fengyi Palace indulged in it. Caiwei and Fusang were used to it, but the younger maids, excited by the novelty, overate, two of them got mouth ulcers and needed two days of ointment before recovering.
From her dowry alone, Meng Guqing had been given tens of thousands of head of cattle and sheep. She kept only a small number at her suburban estate for convenient use and converted the rest into silver or property, which generated steady income each season. Together with her official allowance, she was quite comfortable financially.
Spring weather was fickle, so Meng Guqing brought out a small kit she had specially made after transmigrating, mixing herbs to burn in the palace halls as a preventive measure against contagion. She had intended to make some simple pills and incense, but since Noble Consort Xu was due to give birth soon, she decided not to risk any unnecessary misunderstandings and set it aside.
With the Empress Dowager absent and the young emperor busy, the entire responsibility for Noble Consort Xu fell on the Empress. She couldn’t be too lenient or too strict, it was tricky. Fortunately, Noble Consort Xu was well-connected; her mother, Madam Yang, had been allowed to stay in the palace to accompany her. Meng Guqing even summoned Xu Qiang to assist better to have family close than outsiders.
At noon one day, Guyu from Jianjia Palace arrived solemnly at Fengyi Palace, and Meng Guqing immediately knew Noble Consort Xu had gone into labor. Upon hearing that imperial physicians and midwives had already been sent, she ordered someone to inform the young emperor but the eunuch reported back that only Wang Ning, Feng Gonggong’s godson, was found; the emperor himself was nowhere to be seen. Meng Guqing guessed he had gone out of the palace again.
Childbirth in ancient times was nothing like in the modern world. She had seen her sister-in-law in Gaochang labor for two or three days before giving birth. Noble Consort Xu, a noblewoman and first-time mother, would not have it easy. Still, Meng Guqing stayed outside the birthing chamber for half a day. From noon that day until dawn the next, an exhausted Xu Qiang came out to report that the midwife said the time had come. Seeing her red-rimmed eyes and pale face, Meng Guqing didn’t have the heart to send her to rest and instead told another maid to prepare food.
She thought the delivery would be soon, but even by midday there was no progress. Hongfu came out in a panic, pleading for the physicians to do something; Noble Consort Xu was too weak, her amniotic fluid nearly gone. If the child didn’t come soon, both mother and child would be in danger. The imperial physicians did have labor-inducing medicine, but the risk was grave, and none dared administer it lightly. Meng Guqing was in despair, why did it have to be her making all the decisions? When the medicine was finally prepared, she followed them inside.
Noble Consort Xu was in terrible shape, her face white as paper, sweat-soaked hair plastered to her skin. Madam Yang and Xu Qiang guarded her on either side. The black decoction was soon brought in. Standing just outside the crowd, Meng Guqing watched the orderly movements of everyone present, it all seemed fine. But why was the one bringing the medicine neither Guyu nor Hongfu? As Madam Yang lifted the bowl and was about to feed it to her daughter, Meng Guqing suddenly felt a jolt of dread and said sharply, “Wait, let me see that medicine.”
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