In the Kingdom of Dayue, it was customary for a newly married woman to return to her parents’ home for a visit three days after the wedding. However, there was no such rule when a princess was married off.
Emperor Jiaping had never issued any decree forbidding her from returning to the palace. On the contrary, he had told her she could come back whenever she wished. Yet, over these past few days, Si Hua Huan had been so busy rearranging and decorating the courtyard that belonged exclusively to her that she had not found the time to go back and visit.
Eventually, Emperor Jiaping could wait no longer. He sent a messenger to the Marquis’s residence to convey his words, saying that he missed Princess Kangle and summoning both her and the Marquis of Ming’an to return to the palace together.
The next day, inside the Zichen Palace, warm, fragrant smoke rose slowly from the incense burners, curling and winding like fine threads, blending with the thin mist exhaled from the golden beast-shaped censers. The heavy palace doors swung open, and Si Hua Huan walked into the grand hall that was so familiar to her. The three people seated there immediately rose to their feet upon seeing her.
“Zhenzhen,” the Empress was the first to step forward quickly. Her hands, well-cared for and warm, clasped Si Hua Huan’s as she looked her up and down, her eyes brimming with genuine affection and concern.
“Come, let Mother take a good look at you. Have you been settling in well at the Marquis’s residence? If you lack anything or need anything, just say the word, and I will have someone deliver it to you immediately.”
Emperor Jiaping had also risen from the Dragon Throne and walked over to her. He had deliberately softened his voice, which now carried a slight, choked huskiness. “Oh, my precious daughter, let Father see you. You have no idea how much I have missed you day and night ever since the day you were married.”
As he spoke, the rims of his eyes actually turned red, as if endless reluctance and sorrow were welling up within him, ready to spill over at any moment.
Si Hua Huan forced a smile that did not reach her eyes as she spoke to Emperor Jiaping. “Wasn’t this marriage granted by Your Majesty’s own imperial decree?”
The hand Emperor Jiaping had raised to stroke his cheek froze in mid-air. Feeling somewhat guilty, he turned his head away and covered his embarrassment with a few dry coughs. “Ahem… You child, you are still as straightforward and sharp-tongued as ever, haha.”
Si Hua Huan’s gaze drifted past Emperor Jiaping’s shoulders and landed on the portraits and name lists stacked upon the imperial desk. They appeared to be paintings of young women. She asked, “What are those?”
Emperor Jiaping glanced over. “It is time to begin preparing for Ziyu’s marriage. We have been selecting a Crown Princess recently. As it happens, my eyes have grown tired from looking at so many. Come, you take a look for me.”
“A Crown Princess?”
Si Hua Huan’s heart skipped a beat. In her mind’s eye, she saw the face from her past life — gentle and soft on the surface, yet harboring malicious schemes within. She gave no sign of her thoughts, but her feet moved quickly toward the desk. She spoke in a tone deliberately lighthearted and curious, as if she were merely joining in the fun.
In her previous life, the selection of the Crown Princess had taken place a year later. It seemed that because of her own marriage, events had been pushed forward ahead of schedule.
Eagerly, she picked up the topmost scroll of names lying on the desk and scanned the characters rapidly. Finally, she saw the name she knew all too well — Xue Baozhi.
The eldest daughter of the Xue family was known throughout the capital for her gentle demeanor, grace, and virtue. But that was nothing more than a carefully crafted mask, the result of years of training by the Xue family to mold her into the perfect candidate for Crown Princess.
No matter who became the Crown Prince, the Xue family was determined that Xue Baozhi would be his wife.
The Xue clan believed the Crown Prince was lenient and kind, almost to the point of weakness. Later, when Emperor Jiaping fell seriously ill and most affairs of state fell upon the Crown Prince’s shoulders, the true, sinister ambitions of Xue Baozhi and her family were finally revealed.
As relatives of the imperial consorts, they meddled in politics, pressing their advantage step by step. Their sole goal was to strip the Crown Prince of all authority and reduce him to a puppet under their control. They intended to elevate Xue Baozhi to the position of Empress and eventually seize the imperial power for the Xue clan alone.
After Emperor Jiaping was confined to his sickbed, Xue Baozhi gradually revealed her true nature. She resorted to crying, making scenes, and threatening suicide daily to force the Crown Prince to satisfy her every demand, wearing him down until he was exhausted. For more than half a year afterward, a heavy gloom and fatigue lingered between the Crown Prince’s brows, impossible to dispel.
Every memory of those times remained vivid and clear.
Si Hua Huan clenched her teeth. Now that she had been given a second chance at life, she swore never to repeat the mistakes of the past. She would never allow that woman to get anywhere near her brother ever again!
Her mind raced with complex thoughts, yet her hands moved even faster than her thoughts. She grabbed the imperial brush resting on the desk, its tip dipped in cinnabar ink, and drew a large, bold cross right over the three characters spelling Xue Baozhi’s name.
“Zhenzhen, what are you doing…?” Emperor Jiaping spoke up, his voice filled with shock.
“Zhenzhen?” Si Hua Rong was also stunned. He looked at her in confusion, then at the name that had been so roughly crossed out.
“Why have you done this?” Emperor Jiaping picked up the register, staring at the crossed-out name with a deep frown. “This young lady comes from a distinguished and noble family, and her appearance and demeanor are outstanding. I have observed her conduct and history; she is gentle, virtuous, and kind. She is truly one of the best candidates available. You…”
Si Hua Huan set the imperial brush back upon the brush stand carved from green jade. Her tone held a touch of willful self-righteousness. “I do not like her, and I do not want her to become my sister-in-law.”
The Xue family had been plotting to seize the throne for over a decade. If Xue Baozhi failed to become Crown Princess, they would certainly devise other schemes to infiltrate the Eastern Palace and place her there.
She had to completely shatter their hopes, ensuring that Xue Baozhi would never have even the slightest chance to be involved with her brother. She must not be allowed to become even a secondary consort or a mere concubine.
The Empress looked at the list of names and pondered for a moment. “Mother recalls that you and this young lady from the Xue family have rarely crossed paths in the past. You may not even have exchanged more than a few words. Why do you dislike her so strongly?”
Si Hua Huan avoided their searching gazes. Her fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of her sleeve as she replied casually and lightly. “Perhaps I caught a glimpse of her from afar at one of the palace banquets. I cannot remember. I just do not like her, that is all. There is no need for so many reasons.”
For a brief moment, silence filled the hall.
Emperor Jiaping, the Empress, and the Crown Prince exchanged helpless glances, accustomed to and resigned to her willful nature.
Emperor Jiaping waved his hand. “Very well, very well. You stubborn girl. If you dislike her this much, then we shall simply look at candidates from other families.”
Xie Yun’s gaze rested upon Si Hua Huan, his expression complex. He could not recall her ever paying any attention to Xue Baozhi at any palace banquet.
Xue Baozhi was known for her gentle temperament. She had never wronged or offended Si Hua Huan. Furthermore, Si Hua Huan had always disregarded people or matters she deemed unimportant. Why would she have such a strong objection to someone so seemingly insignificant?
Emperor Jiaping changed the subject. “In a few days, there will be an auspicious date. According to custom, we shall proceed to the National Temple to pray for blessings. You two must also come along.”
Every year, at the very beginning of summer, the Emperor would lead his court officials to the National Temple to pray, seeking blessings for the people of the realm and for the stability of the nation.
Si Hua Huan thought to herself that this Ciyun Temple was not accurate in the slightest. At the very least, regarding matters of love and marriage, its predictions were shockingly wrong.
On the seventh day of the sixth lunar month, the day before the date selected by the Astronomical Bureau, Emperor Jiaping departed the palace accompanied by a grand imperial procession. He led his ministers and noble ladies in a mighty journey toward Ciyun Temple to pray for the well-being of the nation.
Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, everyone alighted from their carriages and sedans. The mountain path wound upward, with layers of stone steps stretching endlessly into the deep green foliage halfway up the mountainside.
To demonstrate utmost sincerity and pray for the longevity of the imperial reign, everyone was required to abandon their vehicles for this part of the journey. They had to climb step by step all the way up to Ciyun Temple on the mountainside, as a sign of their piety and respect.
Emperor Jiaping walked at the front. Behind him, civil and military officials, along with their wives, were arranged in strict order according to their rank, moving silently toward the temple.
Although Si Hua Huan was the youngest princess, as she was born of the Empress, her position in the procession was second only to the Crown Prince. Xie Yun, in his role as the Princess’s husband, walked beside her.
At first, her pace was steady enough. But before she had climbed even halfway, her feet felt as if heavy iron weights were tied to them. Lifting each step cost her every ounce of energy. Fine beads of sweat formed along her hairline, which she quietly wiped away with her fingertips.
She had been of delicate health since childhood, and the heat of summer always sapped her strength. On ordinary days, she traveled only in comfortable carriages or carried in litters. Never before had she had to climb such a long and steep flight of stone steps on foot. Yet, praying for blessings was a matter of national importance. She had no choice but to bite her lip and force herself onward, determined not to fall behind.
“Do you wish to stop and rest for a moment?” A low voice came from beside her, not loud, but pitched perfectly so only she could hear.
Si Hua Huan’s breathing was ragged and uneven, but she shook her head. “There is no need.”
She glanced quickly back at the procession stretching endlessly behind her. For the dignity of the imperial family, even if she had only her last breath left in her body, she had to reach the top.
Xie Yun did not look away. His eyes remained fixed on her lips, which had turned as pale as paper. “There is no merit in trying to be brave. If you push yourself this hard, you will likely not be able to stand up at all tomorrow.”
Si Hua Huan shot him a sideways glare. “Who are you looking down on?”
Xie Yun looked ahead at the stone steps that seemed to lead forever upward. “If it becomes too difficult, I shall carry you up.”
Carry her? With all eyes upon them? To let the entire court, civil and military alike, and all the noble ladies see her being carried up the mountain by Xie Yun?
She felt a wave of revulsion. That would be a thousand times more humiliating than if she had simply fainted on the spot right here on the steps.
Ignoring the soreness in her knees and the stinging pain in the soles of her feet, she felt as if a massive force was pushing her from behind. She took a deep breath, lifted the hem of her robe, and hurried upward several paces, putting some distance between herself and Xie Yun.
They finally arrived at Ciyun Temple. The Abbot, clad in his kasaya robe, stood waiting silently flanked by two rows of monks in grey robes. When he saw the Emperor’s arrival, the Abbot pressed his palms together and bowed low. Behind him, the monks followed suit, pressing their palms together and bowing in unison.
After the vegetarian meal was finished, everyone was free to wander around the temple grounds as they pleased, resting while waiting for the sacrificial ceremony to be held the next day.
Since Si Hua Huan and Xie Yun were newlyweds, the temple had arranged only one room for them to share. Xie Yun asked her, “Do you wish to return to the room and rest?”
Si Hua Huan had no desire to spend a long period of time cooped up in a small room with Xie Yun. She refused bluntly and decisively. “No.”
“Would you like to walk around the temple grounds then?” Xie Yun asked. “Many people have gone to pray in the various halls ahead.”
Si Hua Huan showed little interest. “I do not wish to go. It is meaningless. None of this is accurate in the slightest.”
Xie Yun caught the meaning behind her words and raised an eyebrow. “You have come here to pray before? I thought you never believed in these clay and wooden statues.”
Si Hua Huan had grown up wanting for nothing, getting everything she desired. Therefore, she had always firmly believed that human effort determines one’s fate and that willpower can conquer destiny. She had never believed in tales of ghosts and gods or superstitions of any kind.
What sort of desperate trouble had she encountered back then, that had driven her to the point of praying to gods and buddhas?
At that time, faced with a hopeless situation, she had treated it as trying to cure a dead horse as if it were still alive. Since there was no other choice, she had to believe just a little bit, three parts at most, just to see if it might work.
And the result? Just as she had expected, it was completely inaccurate. She would never believe in such things again.
“Well…” Si Hua Huan answered vaguely. “It was useless to pray anyway.”
Xie Yun asked, “Which hall did you visit? Which Buddha or Bodhisattva did you pray to?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Of course it does.”
Xie Yun raised his hand and pointed toward the statues in the main hall, each with different expressions and attributes. “In the center sits Shakyamuni Buddha, representing enlightenment and the salvation of all living beings. To his left is Manjushri Bodhisattva, holding a ruyi scepter; he governs wisdom, intellect, and eloquence. To the right is the Medicine Buddha, holding a pagoda of healing; he governs the prevention of disasters and the extension of life.”
“And over there in the corner is Guanyin Bodhisattva, holding a pure vase and a sprig of willow. She is the embodiment of great mercy and compassion, always ready to save those in suffering and distress. However, she has many manifestations. For example, that one holding a baby in her arms is known as the Child-Giving Guanyin. She is specifically in charge of granting children and ensuring the continuation of the family line.”
Si Hua Huan followed the direction he was pointing and looked. She was seized by utter shock, and her face turned instantly pale.
Back then, she had thought all the statues and deities in the great hall looked exactly the same. In her confusion, she had bowed and prayed before every single one of them!
How could she have prayed in front of the Child-Giving Guanyin? That day, what she had begged for was clearly a change in the circumstances of her marriage. It had absolutely nothing to do with bearing children!
Even though she did not believe in gods or buddhas, she was panic-stricken at this moment, terrified that there might be even the slightest possibility that the prayer had been heard and accepted.
She forced herself to remain calm and silently recited a plea in her mind at lightning speed:
Oh Great Bodhisattva above, I was foolish and ignorant, failing to recognize the true divinity and praying at the wrong shrine. My request on that day was entirely unrelated to bearing children and is not within Your domain of governance at all.
Please, I beg You to pretend that You never heard my foolish ramblings. Do not record that wish in Your books, I implore You!