The voice, suddenly raised in volume, sounded particularly piercing in the dark of night. The maids keeping watch outside exchanged glances and hastily retreated.
Madam Chen held a teacup in her hand, trembling all over with anger. “So, my lord, you mean this is a great joy?” she asked hoarsely.
Under the lamplight, Chen Shao’s expression was shadowed and unreadable. “What do you want me to say?” he replied slowly. “And from which perspective should I speak?”
The Crown Prince’s marriage ensured the continuation of the imperial lineage – it was a cause for celebration and something he had been determined to see happen. But for their daughter to marry a fool…
Madam Chen covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. “There are countless families eager to wed their daughters to the Crown Prince – it doesn’t have to be us,” she sobbed. “Your duty is to support the Crown Prince and stabilize His Majesty’s reign. It is not to take on every matter, including the Crown Prince’s marriage. There is a time to act and a time to refrain, my lord. Have you forgotten the way of a gentleman?”
Chen Shao sighed and reached out to pat his sobbing wife.
“I know,” he said. “I’m talking about this situation.”
“There’s no room for negotiation on this!” Madam Chen cried. “Don’t forget what you stand for, my lord. Your purpose is different from that of men like Gao Lingjun. So what if you’ve offended the Empress Dowager or ridiculed the Crown Prince’s disability? As long as your loyalty to the state and the sovereign remains unchanged, you stand upright and walk with integrity.”
Chen Shao smiled faintly.
“Yes, I know. I’m not talking about Dan-niang,” he explained. “I’m only talking about this matter. Once this unfolds, there will inevitably be turmoil. You and Dan-niang should go back to stay at our estate for a while.”
Only then did Madam Chen feel reassured. She lifted her sleeve again to wipe her tears and softly called out, “My lord.”
“You can’t bear to part with her – how could I, as her father, bear it either?” Chen Shao sighed.
Madam Chen wiped her tears.
“This whole matter… it’s my fault,” she choked out. “I shouldn’t have been so careless as to let Dan-niang enter the palace.”
But who could have ever imagined that the Empress Dowager would do such a thing.
Chen Shao shook his head.
“If the Gao family has set their minds on something, even if it wasn’t this time, there would have been other schemes,” he said, pausing briefly before continuing, “Shi’ba-niang must have heard the news by now…”
The Empress Dowager had bestowed the marriage arrangement after meeting Chen Dan-niang, and it was only through Chen Shi’ba-niang that Chen Dan-niang had been able to enter the palace to see the Empress Dowager.
“She probably doesn’t feel easy about it either.”
Madam Chen nodded.
“I’ve already sent someone to speak with her. I didn’t have her and her husband come over today – we’ll talk tomorrow,” she said.
Chen Shao nodded as well.
“It’s late, and we’re all tired. Let’s rest,” Madam Chen said. “Tomorrow will be busy.”
The lamp in the room was blown out.
From a distance, the young maids watched for a while before tiptoeing into the night-duty chamber.
Beside her, Chen Shao turned over. In the darkness, Madam Chen lay facing inward, her eyes wide open, and she knew Chen Shao must be doing the same.
At a time like this, how could anyone sleep? Words of comfort were unnecessary now.
Madam Chen stared into the pitch-black stillness, motionless.
…
Duke Jin’an turned over on the couch.
The outer study was where he usually rested; counting it up, he had slept elsewhere fewer than ten days in total. The bedding was all new – even the bed curtains had just been replaced. A breeze drifted in through the window, accompanied by the chirping of night insects, making the air especially pleasant.
He turned over again, resting one hand beneath his head, watching the curtains sway gently with the wind.
He must have angered her, hadn’t he?
Really…
He didn’t even know how he’d lost his senses at the time and done something like that.
The thought flashed through his mind, and once more Cheng Jiao-niang’s face appeared before his eyes as she lay on the couch.
Her face, the red bedding, her black hair, those bright, shining eyes…
That face, which usually looked somewhat bloodless, had been unbelievably smooth to the touch – and even smoother than her face was…
Duke Jin’an suddenly sat up, fanning himself with his hand, only to feel his face burning hot.
They were married, yes, but the timing of that marriage had been all wrong to begin with – forced by circumstances. How could he truly allow himself to behave so recklessly toward her?
Besides, even if they were husband and wife, he shouldn’t have acted with such frivolity at that moment.
In the capital, there were only a handful of people she was familiar with. The Chen family was the closest, the one they had the most dealings with – especially since Madam Chen had taken full charge of the wedding arrangements. Now that something like this had happened to Chen Dan-niang, who knew how distressed she must be. Yet here he was: first losing his composure in joy, then indulging himself in such unrestrained intimacy…
Being kicked out of bed was a light punishment. Given her temperament, wringing his neck wouldn’t have been excessive at all.
It was clearly something to regret, yet for some reason, when his thoughts reached this point, Duke Jin’an couldn’t help but laugh. The more he thought about it, the funnier it seemed, until he simply pulled his hand over his face and laughed quietly to himself.
“Your Highness?”
Eunuch Jing asked softly from outside.
It had been quite a while now – first the person inside had been tossing and turning in bed like a pancake on a griddle, and now he was actually laughing. In the dead of night…
What answered him was not a voice, but the sound of footsteps. Someone pushed aside the lattice screen and stepped out.
In the night, his figure looked tall and imposing.
“Your Highness?” Eunuch Jing exclaimed in surprise as he hurried to light a lamp. “What’s wrong?”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, the man had already passed by him, stirring up a rush of air.
“I’m going back.”
Going back? Back where?
Eunuch Jing froze, watching Duke Jin’an stride out. He stamped his foot in annoyance.
What on earth is this about?!
“Someone – bring lanterns!” he shouted, hurrying after him.
Su Xin suddenly scrambled up from the couch; beside her, Ban Qin sprang to her feet as well.
“What is it?” she asked.
Before her words were finished, the sound of footsteps reached the door.
“Your Highness…”
The slightly startled voice of a maid came from outside the door.
Your Highness!
Su Xin and Ban Qin both jolted in alarm. Flustered, they scrambled down from the couch, hurriedly tugging on their clothes. Without even bothering to put on their shoes, they rushed over to open the door.
Lantern light flooded in, glaringly bright. Su Xin quickly turned her face away from it, while Ban Qin had already gone inside to light the lamp.
“No need,” Duke Jin’an said in a lowered voice. “Don’t wake her.”
With that, he headed straight toward the inner chamber.
Su Xin and Ban Qin stood there in the outer room, stunned. They exchanged a glance, at a loss for what to do. The light in the washroom came on, then went out again shortly afterward, and the room fell once more into dimness.
Duke Jin’an’s eyes gradually adjusted to the low light. He gently lifted the bed curtain.
The girl on the couch was sleeping on her side, just as she had the previous two nights – curled toward the outer edge, leaving space on the inside.
With his long legs, he should be able to step over easily…
Duke Jin’an lifted his foot –
Outside the door, Ban Qin and Su Xin had already returned to the side room, looking at the bedding that had been laid out.
“Then… are we still keeping night watch here?” Ban Qin whispered.
Su Xin hadn’t had time to answer when a dull thump came from the inner chamber. The two of them jumped in fright.
Although the person beneath him reached out to brace herself, Duke Jin’an still ended up half sprawled on top of her, his body burning hot. He hurriedly rolled off again, his foot knocking against the bed frame with a thud.
The room fell into a momentary stillness.
“…I – I’ve only just recovered. My body’s still weak…” Duke Jin’an said awkwardly.
Cheng Jiao-niang shifted outward a little, making a bit more space for him.
After a soft rustling of fabric, Duke Jin’an finally lay down properly and let out a breath.
“I woke you,” he said in a low voice.
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”
Not asleep yet…
Duke Jin’an fell silent for a moment.
“I…” he began. “I was afraid you’d be angry with me, so I thought I’d sleep on the outside.”
Su Xin and Ban Qin were holding their bedding, tiptoeing toward the door, when they happened to hear that last line. Both of them couldn’t help stopping in their tracks.
The lanterns under the corridor cast light over their faces – surprise mingled with delight.
Su Xin shook her head slightly; Ban Qin immediately lifted her foot and moved on. The two of them stepped out and gently pulled the door closed behind them.
Seeing Ban Qin’s beaming, uncontrollable grin, Su Xin couldn’t help smiling as well.
“I told you – you were worrying for nothing,” she whispered in mock reproach.
Ban Qin only smiled in response.
Su Xin turned back for one last look and let out a small, relieved sigh.
“As long as you can speak openly about things, there’s nothing that can’t be settled,” she said softly.
A faint rustling sounded beside him. Duke Jin’an turned his head, and in the dim night light saw that Cheng Jiao-niang had turned to look at him as well.
“So,” the girl’s voice asked, “are you not afraid anymore?”
Duke Jin’an snorted with a laugh.
“I am,” he said, nodding slightly against the pillow.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned her head away again.
Smiling, Duke Jin’an reached out and poked her on the shoulder.
“And this is what you call being afraid?” Cheng Jiao-niang’s voice came from beside him. With her back turned, it sounded a little distant, a little muffled.
Duke Jin’an burst out laughing. The finger poking her turned into two.
“Fang Bocong.” Cheng Jiao-niang turned her head.
She must have been glaring at him – though in the darkness it was impossible to see.
Duke Jin’an let go and lay back on his pillow, looking at her.
“Mm?” he answered, laughing again.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned away once more.
Duke Jin’an shifted on the pillow, moving his body as well, finding a comfortable position to lie in.
“It’s really strange,” he said, half to himself. “After you kicked me off the bed, suddenly getting back onto it felt much easier.”
Beside him, Cheng Jiao-niang let out a soft pfft of laughter – brief, quickly stifled.
If it hadn’t been so late and so quiet, no one would have heard it.
Duke Jin’an laughed again and nudged her back with his elbow.
“You think so too, don’t you?” he said.
“I’ve always thought so,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Duke Jin’an chuckled.
“It’s my first time getting married, after all,” he said with a grin.
The words had barely left his mouth when he felt the person beside him tense. His own voice cut off at once.
“I misspoke,” he said immediately. The smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression. “I shouldn’t have joked about that.”
What did he mean by first time getting married – was he implying there might be a second?
They were newlyweds, and this marriage had come together with so little joy to begin with. He really shouldn’t have made light of it.
The room seemed to fall into a brief stillness. Cheng Jiao-niang shifted, then turned to face him.
“No,” she said, looking at Duke Jin’an. “You didn’t say anything wrong. It was me – I let my thoughts go astray.”
Duke Jin’an looked at her. She was so close that he could feel her breath as it brushed against his face.
She was always like this – thinking first of others, never blaming anyone else, taking everything upon herself.
Duke Jin’an felt his chest swell, a faint ache rising within it.
“Cheng Fang,” he said, lifting his hand to touch her arm, then quickly drawing it back. “I understand.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled at him.
“Go to sleep,” she said.
Duke Jin’an murmured in response and closed his eyes.
A faint, clean fragrance, a warm presence – this was the scent he knew, the place that felt familiar.
It had only been a few days since there was another person beside him. How had it already become a habit he couldn’t give up?
He shifted slightly on the pillow. A sense of release and reassurance washed over him, and drowsiness followed. But just as he was about to fall asleep, Duke Jin’an suddenly opened his eyes again.
The room was utterly silent. The person beside him lay quietly as well.
“Cheng Fang,” Duke Jin’an called softly. Propping himself up on one arm, he lifted his head to look at her.
In the darkness, a pair of eyes glimmered faintly.
“You can’t sleep,” Duke Jin’an said. “Then talk with me for a bit.”
Cheng Jiao-niang didn’t answer, her gaze lowering.
“I used to bottle things up too,” Duke Jin’an went on. “That was because there was no one I could talk to.”
As he said this, he smiled again.
“Looking back afterward, a lot of things don’t really seem like much. But at the time, they’re still the time. If you can find someone to talk to, maybe it helps, even just a little.”
When his words fell away, the room returned to silence.
“Of course, whether you want to talk or not is up to you,” Duke Jin’an added hastily. “I just…”
Just what?
Why was he rambling on like this…
She was Cheng Fang, not Liu Ge’er.
“I just don’t want you to keep it all bottled up,” he said.
She wasn’t someone who talked much to begin with. Acting like this, he was almost forcing her to change.
Being pushed like that didn’t feel good.
Duke Jin’an felt another wave of regret.
What was wrong with him? How had he become so irritating? It didn’t matter if others found him annoying – but how could he let her find him annoying?
Using the motion of lifting his hand to rub his nose, he lay back down again.
“I was thinking about Dan-niang’s situation, so I couldn’t fall asleep.”
Cheng Jiao-niang’s voice sounded beside his ear.
Duke Jin’an felt something go bang inside his chest and hurriedly turned his head.
“Don’t worry,” he said, taking a deep breath. His voice settled, calm and serious. “Although Master Chen’s refusal of the imperial edict will bring some trouble, it’s the kind of trouble you can grit your teeth and endure. As long as it’s endured, it will pass. It’s just that Dan-niang’s future marriage may be a bit complicated – but compared to the alternative, that’s still better.”
Because of this incident, Chen Dan-niang’s future marriage negotiations would inevitably be difficult. She would most likely have to marry far away, leaving the capital and her parents behind. But at least she could still marry a husband sound in body and mind – far better than being married off to Liu Ge’er…
His Liu Ge’er would never, in this lifetime, have any connection with the word “good.” It was cruel, but a fact he had no choice but to acknowledge.
In any case, whoever Liu Ge’er might marry in the future – good or bad – had nothing to do with Liu Ge’er himself. He wouldn’t know, and he wouldn’t care.
“And what about you?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Duke Jin’an paused for a moment.
“Me?” he asked, looking at her and smiling. “I won’t lie to you. Even though I know it’s the same to the Crown Prince who he marries, I still hope he can have a good wife by his side. If the Crown Princess were a daughter of the Chen family, I would be happy.”
Cheng Jiao-niang propped herself up. In the darkness, her gaze seemed to linger over his face.
“Do you think the Crown Prince really should be Crown Prince?” she asked suddenly.
Duke Jin’an froze, his heart skipping two beats. His expression shifted for a moment, then returned to normal – though all of it passed silently in the night.
“Of course,” he said, a trace of a smile in his voice. “The Crown Prince is His Majesty’s son – the only son. That’s why he should be Crown Prince.”
“But… he’s not suitable,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Duke Jin’an propped himself up as well, looking at her.
“Cheng Fang, whether someone is suitable or not isn’t for people to decide,” he said with quiet restraint.
A person’s bloodline and birth can’t be chosen by anyone.
“If it is the will of Heaven?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, looking at him.
Duke Jin’an smiled faintly.
“If it truly is the will of Heaven, then we mortals should not speak of it,” he replied. “We must simply wait for Heaven’s decree. There is no need for worry.”
Wait?
“But the Way of Heaven must also be followed; people must act in accordance with it,” Cheng Jiao-niang insisted.
Duke Jin’an smiled once more.
“I do not understand such things,” he said with a hint of sincerity. “All I know is what I must do. As for Heaven’s way – it is too lofty, too distant. Heaven’s way is far, the human way is near, beyond my reach.”
Heaven’s way is far, the human way is near, beyond my reach. Yet…
“We do know it…” Cheng Jiao-niang murmured softly.
Because we know it, we take it as our duty to follow Heaven’s way.
A hand gently rested on her head, and Cheng Jiao-niang’s body tensed slightly. The hand did not pull away but instead gave a few soothing strokes.
Her body gradually relaxed.
To gain the Way, one must let go – a truth that could not be clearer. And yet, why did she feel this sorrow?
Was it because Chen Dan–niang was to marry the foolish Crown Prince?
To marry a fool was indeed a sad thing, but how did it compare with death?
For example, knowing that marrying a certain man would lead to certain death… yet a father still allowed his daughter to wed…
The hand stroking her head grew even gentler. Cheng Jiao-niang slowly lay down.
The conversation in the room fell silent, and quiet settled in once more. Yet, unlike before, the atmosphere seemed to have softened considerably. Cheng Jiao-niang slowly closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the first light of dawn was beginning to break.
The weight of something unfamiliar on her body instinctively made her raise a hand. As her fingers brushed against an arm, her movement stilled. She turned her head and saw Duke Jin’an lying almost flush against her.
His eyes were closed, lost in deep sleep.
One hand was resting gently on her head, while the other lay across her body.
They remained like this, facing each other yet as though in an embrace.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s movement caused Duke Jin’an to open his eyes. Seeing her awake, he was clearly startled for a moment and instinctively shifted back slightly, but soon he relaxed as before.
“It’s still early,” he said, squinting toward the light beyond the curtain with a hint of drowsiness. “Sleep a while longer.”
As he spoke, his hand seemed to unconsciously pat her gently. Without waiting for any response from Cheng Jiao-niang, he closed his eyes again.
After a moment’s hesitation, Cheng Jiao-niang gently reached up and moved his hand aside. However, she did not rise, but simply turned over, facing outward, and closed her eyes once more.
Behind her, a faint smile touched the corners of Duke Jin’an’s lips. He did not open his eyes, nor did he place his hand on her again, but merely shifted slightly closer on the pillow, nestling near her loose, flowing hair, and drifted back to sleep.
Meanwhile, Master and Madam Chen, who had been awake all night, had already risen. Just as they had finished washing and were about to have breakfast, a servant came to announce that Chen Shi’ba-niang had arrived.
“Shi’ba-niang,” Madam Chen called out upon seeing her step through the doorway, her eyes red and swollen from crying, feeling tears threaten once again.
Chen Shi’ba-niang’s expression mirrored her own, clearly having slept poorly herself the previous night. With a heavy look, she took a seat in the hall and offered a formal greeting.
“Where is your husband?” Chen Shao inquired.
“He’s gone to gather news,” Chen Shi’ba-niang replied.
The announcement of the edict the day before had undoubtedly spread overnight, and by now both the capital and the imperial court would surely be abuzz with discussion.
“There’s no need to inquire,” Chen Shao said. “I can guess what they’ll say.”
Chen Shi’ba-niang remained silent for a moment.
“Shi’ba-niang, Dan-niang and I plan to return home,” Madam Chen spoke up. “You should go back with your husband as well.”
Chen Shi’ba-niang lifted her head.
“Father, have you already made a decision about Dan-niang?” she asked.
Before Chen Shao could reply, Madam Chen interjected.
“Shi’ba-niang, don’t worry – this matter is behind us now, and you mustn’t dwell on it,” she said. “What happened at the palace was just an unfortunate accident…”
Before she could finish, Chen Shi’ba-niang shook her head, cutting her off.
“Father, Mother,” she said, her hands clasped tightly on her knees as she lifted her gaze to meet Chen Shao’s eyes. “Dan-niang’s visit to the palace was no accident.”
Master and Madam Chen stared at her, taken aback.
“It was I who recommended her to the Empress Dowager,” Chen Shi’ba-niang took a deep breath, unclenching her hands on her knees, and spoke slowly and deliberately.
What?
The expressions on Master and Madam Chen’s faces instantly changed.
