In this world, the rarest thing is sincerity – true sincerity.
Even the Emperor, master of all under heaven, could not deny that.
“It is my true heart as a subject, and also the heart shaped by Your Majesty’s guidance through so many years,” said Duke Jin’an, bowing deeply.
“It is also the filial devotion I owe on behalf of Liu Ge’er.”
The Emperor gave a slight nod.
“Go and pay a visit to the Empress as well,” he said slowly.
She, too, was someone who longed for that filial devotion. Even if it came through a substitute, it was better than nothing.
Duke Jin’an answered in assent.
Stepping out of the Emperor’s hall, Duke Jin’an found the night had already fallen over the imperial city. Bright lanterns were lit one after another, and the eunuchs ahead and behind carried lamps in their hands, leading the way for him with reverence and care.
He paused on the steps, gazing toward the distant palace gates.
Lifting his hand, he began counting on his fingers, as though calculating something.
“What is Your Highness counting?” one eunuch behind him asked softly.
“The days,” another eunuch nearby replied, his voice tinged with wistfulness.
“What days?” the first eunuch asked, puzzled.
The other did not answer. Instead, he cast a glance at the young man standing at the edge of the steps.
Counting the days until he could leave the palace. Counting the days until freedom…
The eighteenth of the eleventh month – this day. They had once counted toward it finger by finger, yearning for its arrival. Last year it slipped by. This year too. And in the years to come, perhaps it would always be missed.
“Back to the palace.”
The young man’s voice sounded low, almost swallowed by the night. Turning, he strode back inside. The cold wind howled; the darkness pressed heavy.
As November slipped by, December came in the blink of an eye, and the New Year was nearly upon them.
This year, the festive spirit in the palace was stronger than ever. The Emperor was in high spirits, his health much improved. Unlike the previous year, when the Second Prince’s injury had cast a heavy gloom over the court, everything now seemed filled with joy and celebration.
When the Imperial Consort arrived with the First Prince at the Empress Dowager’s gates, they were greeted by laughter spilling out from within. Alongside the Empress Dowager’s laughter was another, stranger sound.
The First Prince frowned.
“I’m not going in.” He turned on his heel to leave.
The Imperial Consort caught his arm.
“Prince Qing is there – why should you avoid him?” she said, her brows raised.
“I’m not avoiding him. I just don’t like seeing him,” the First Prince replied impatiently. “I have plenty of other matters to attend to. I don’t have time to play with an idiot.”
With that, he shook her off and strode away, ignoring her calls.
The Imperial Consort had no choice but to give up.
“Si Ge’er grows more disobedient by the day,” she muttered.
“Not disobedient, Your Ladyship – His Highness is simply becoming more independent,” the eunuch beside her said with a flattering smile. “Why, just yesterday I heard he even dared to debate with the ministers at court!”
A mother will always be proud of her son. At those words, a smile softened the Imperial Consort’s face.
The Imperial Consort stepped into the hall. Inside, the Empress Dowager was personally feeding Prince Qing a spoonful of soup. Half of it dribbled away before it reached his mouth, but even so, the Empress Dowager looked delighted.
“Wei-lang, look – doesn’t it seem Liu Ge’er recognizes me now?” she said joyfully.
Recognizes you? Hardly, the Imperial Consort scoffed inwardly. Her gaze fell on the child’s foolish smile, yet she walked forward with a pleasant laugh.
“Your Majesty tends to Prince Qing every day. Naturally, His Highness knows you,” she said smoothly.
Duke Jin’an gave the Imperial Consort a respectful bow, then gently took Prince Qing by the hand to withdraw.
“Stay a while longer. Why rush off? It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you both,” the Imperial Consort urged.
But Duke Jin’an only smiled, still insisting on taking his leave. With Prince Qing in tow, he stepped out.
“It’s only for fear of startling you all,” the Empress Dowager said.
Duke Jin’an, apart from the occasional visit here, rarely stepped beyond his own quarters. Even when he did come to see the Empress Dowager, the moment he heard that other consorts or princesses had come to pay their respects, he would immediately take his leave.
“I would never be frightened, Your Majesty – please don’t wrong me,” the Imperial Consort replied quickly. She chatted a while about the coming New Year, and seeing the Empress Dowager in good spirits, she cautiously ventured, “…Since it’s the New Year, perhaps the palace where Duke Jin’an resides could also be refurbished a little…”
She had barely finished speaking when the Empress Dowager’s face darkened.
“Refurbish what? He’s not moving out,” she said flatly.
“Your Majesty, after the New Year, Duke Jin’an will already be eighteen,” the Imperial Consort reminded her.
“And what of it? Back in the day, Prince Ping lived in the palace until he was thirty. What’s the problem?” The Empress Dowager’s brows arched sharply. “And who’s been gossiping behind his back?”
“No one, no one,” the Imperial Consort said quickly, bowing her head. “I only meant well.”
The Empress Dowager gave a cold hum.
“Leaving aside the fact that he has only just returned, even Prince Qing cannot do without him. I will not allow him to move out,” she declared.
With a sharp crack, a jade dish shattered before the Imperial Consort. The maids at the door instantly stepped back, forming a barrier to keep anyone from coming near.
“Prince Qing cannot do without him? How so? With so many people in the palace, are they not enough to care for one fool?”
“Your Ladyship, mind your words!” Attendant Scholar Gao said sternly, his face hardening.
The Imperial Consort fanned herself, trying to dispel the heat of her anger.
“I say the real reason he’s being kept here is because Her Majesty harbors other intentions. Now that the Emperor’s health has improved, she’s already thinking of giving him another grandson. Doesn’t she realize his recovery is still fresh? Yet she’s pushing concubines toward him – does she not fear ruining His Majesty’s body?” Her voice dropped lower as she continued to grumble, “And even if someone truly did conceive, would it sound decent if word got out? Duke Jin’an is already eighteen! In other households, boys his age are already fathers. When the time comes-”
“Your Ladyship! Enough!” Attendant Scholar Gao could bear it no longer. His brows shot up as he barked, “Do you have no regard for your life? How can you speak such words!”
The Imperial Consort gave a cold snort.
“If I don’t say it, someone else will sooner or later.” Still, she dared not press further. Lifting the golden cup at her side, she sipped her tea instead.
Attendant Scholar Gao let out a long breath.
“Your Ladyship, why such anxiety? Whether he lives inside the palace or outside, what difference does it truly make?” he said. “By attending to Prince Qing so personally, he has won the deep gratitude of both the Emperor and the Empress Dowager. He has gained, but he has also lost. As you said yourself, Duke Jin’an is already eighteen. His studies are lacking, his character is lacking – but perhaps that suits him well enough to match Prince Qing. Is Your Ladyship really worried about two useless boys? That would be giving them far too much credit.”
The Imperial Consort exhaled, her expression easing.
“Of course, I know that,” she said, leaning against the armrest. “It’s just… whenever I see Duke Jin’an, I feel unsettled. His eyes – like a venomous snake, always glinting with a cold light. The thought of him remaining in this palace makes me restless day and night.”
As the saying goes, suspecting the neighbor of stealing an axe, mistaking a bow’s shadow for a snake – a guilty conscience always projects its own fears onto others.
Attendant Scholar Gao shook his head. Those words he could never utter aloud. More than that – he must bury them deep in his heart, never to be spoken, never even to be remembered.
He stroked his beard in thought, then suddenly his eyes lit up.
“Duke Jin’an is already eighteen,” he said. “Other matters may be delayed, but marriage cannot be put off forever. Once he is wed, surely he cannot remain living inside the palace.”
The Imperial Consort brightened at his words.
“Yes, he should be married by now,” she agreed. But then her tone dimmed. “I only fear the Emperor and the Empress Dowager are reluctant to break his so-called child-bearing fortune.”
Attendant Scholar Gao shook his head with a chuckle.
“You can’t put it that way. His Majesty and the Empress Dowager are compassionate people,” he said. “Duke Jin’an has done so much for Prince Qing – would they truly make him serve as Prince Qing’s nursemaid for life? He himself has no one to care for him. It’s rather pitiful, really.”
At this reminder, the Imperial Consort slowly nodded, her smile growing wider.
Yes, that was true. He was, after all, only a young man. It was time he had someone to look after him. And in this world, who could be more devoted than a wife?
The crackle of firecrackers rang out on the street from time to time, and a group of children came running past in laughter and play. Cheng Si-lang quickly stepped aside to let them through.
The road beneath his feet had been newly paved with stone. Though snow had fallen only a few days ago, there was no mud to be seen.
This wasn’t his first time returning home by way of South Cheng, yet he still found himself astonished.
How was it that South Cheng seemed to change with each passing day?
But then, remembering it was all the work of that girl, it no longer seemed so strange.
For a seemingly frail lady to hold three businesses in the capital – if she could accomplish that, what could she not accomplish?
Behind him came the steady clop of hooves, mingled with the laughter and chatter of children.
“The Chief Steward is back! The Chief Steward is back!”
Seven or eight children of varying ages skipped and hopped around a horse, yet the man atop it – wrapped in furs, hat pulled low, exuding the air of a wealthy master – showed not the slightest impatience.
“Go on, go buy yourselves some sweets,” he said with a wave of his hand.
The groom leading the horse immediately reached into the purse at his waist, scooped out a handful of coins, and handed them to the children. They scattered with cheers and laughter.
This was Steward Cao. Within half a year, his lavishness had become famous throughout Jiang-zhou.
Lavish – or rather, wasteful. Money that ought to be spent, and money that ought not to be spent – he spent it all without hesitation.
“Money is meant to be wasted” – this was Steward Cao’s favorite saying.
And since it wasn’t his own money, he felt no pain in squandering it. First Madam Cheng and Second Madam Cheng had both remarked on this more than once. Though the two sisters-in-law rarely spoke to each other, on this matter their views were entirely the same.
Thinking of his mother and aunt, and of how distant the two branches of the family had grown, Cheng Si-lang could not help but sigh. At home, his brothers and sisters, his mother and aunt – all of them insisted that everything now was the fault of Cheng Jiao-niang. They painted her as a vicious, unfilial creature.
Cheng Si-lang found it laughable. Was the Cheng Jiao-niang they spoke of the same person he knew?
The Cheng Jiao-niang he knew was dignified and graceful, beautiful and generous, gentle and well-mannered – a girl such as the world could scarce find again.
At the thought of this good young lady, Cheng Si-lang pressed his lips into a smile. But almost at once, a trace of melancholy came over him as he looked ahead.
Where had she gone, this good young lady? For a lone girl to be away from home so long… how could one not worry?
