Yesterday marked the beginning of spring; today, thunder rolled across the heavens, the sky heavy and dim, with fine rain drifting down in veils.
Shu Yun gently pushed open the small lattice window. A gust of cold wind, damp with moisture, rushed in and made her shiver. She coughed softly twice, then lifted her gaze. The rain fell like woven threads, knitting a dense net that enclosed the entire capital—and weighed upon her heart like a suffocating haze.
On the Lantern Festival last night, she had stumbled upon her fiancé meeting another woman. Unfortunately, the darkness concealed the woman’s face; she had no idea who it was. Worse still, her sudden pursuit startled her fiancé, who fell hard to the ground, seemingly striking something as he went down.
That piercing scream nearly split the clouds apart. Just recalling it made Shu Yun tremble. Her fiancé had fainted on the spot from the pain, but the guards of Prince Huaiyang’s household reacted swiftly, lifting him into a carriage and rushing him back to the residence.
Shu Yun followed, only to be stopped at the gates by the matron. Smiling, the woman assured her that the heir was not in serious danger, told her to rest at home, and promised she would be informed of any news—while hinting she should keep quiet.
The prince’s household clearly meant to cover things up, and Shu Yun dared not press further. She returned to her own manor.
This morning, a messenger arrived: the princess consort invited her for tea.
“Tea”—such an ordinary word, yet Shu Yun caught the scent of accusation behind it. So be it. Last night’s incident needed to be clarified.
She had been engaged to her fiancé for a year. Apart from his occasional attempt to hold her hand—always gently refused—their relationship had been proper. Whenever she sent him gifts for the festivals, he returned a cartload of fine presents, mindful of not only her but also her siblings. Her cousin often praised her fortune, saying she was blessed to have such a considerate fiancé. Who would have thought betrayal would come so suddenly?
She quickly washed and dressed, swallowed a few hurried spoonfuls of porridge, then went to the main hall to pay respects to her mother. Madam Su was frail, long confined to her sickbed. Shu Yun, unwilling to worry her, offered a casual excuse before stepping out the door.
Maid Shaoyao had witnessed the heir’s injury alongside her mistress. She had endured a sleepless night, too afraid to speak, and now at last seized the chance, her worry spilling out in a rush:
“Miss, how could the heir’s wound be of no consequence? I fear the prince’s household is deceiving you, hoping you’ll remain devoted to him. This… this is a matter of a lifetime. You mustn’t be confused. If you wish, I’ll wait outside the residence—when the physician leaves, I’ll inquire.”
Leaning against the carriage wall, Shu Yun rubbed her aching brow, her thoughts in turmoil. She turned to see Shaoyao’s small face pale as paper, brows knotted tight as though the sky had collapsed. Shu Yun forced a gentle smile to soothe her: “The princess consort acts swiftly. She did not summon an imperial physician, but a common doctor. That alone shows her intent to keep this matter hidden. If I’m not mistaken, she won’t let the doctor leave the estate anytime soon. You won’t be able to learn anything.”
“And what of the heir meeting another woman? After all the effort to secure this marriage…” Shaoyao whispered, tears brimming.
Shu Yun drew a breath, clasped the maid’s hand lightly, half to comfort her and half to steady herself. “If I gain him, it is my fortune; if I lose him, it is fate. Let’s not lose our composure.”
Indeed, this marriage had been a reach. Her father was but a sixth-rank academic at the Imperial Academy, hardly qualified to ally with the exalted Prince Huaiyang’s household. Yet her father’s skill in painting was renowned, earning him the prince’s admiration as a kindred spirit. The prince himself arranged the match.
From that day, the standing of Shu Yun’s branch rose sharply. Once, her grandmother had scorned them for lacking a son, but with this tie to nobility, she dared not belittle them. The other branches no longer treated them lightly. Shu Yun guarded the engagement with care, sending pastries and embroidery to honor the prince and his consort at every festival, and behaving with utmost docility before her fiancé.
She was sixteen now, and by their agreement, the wedding was to take place this year. Who could have foreseen such a scandal at the crucial moment?
Lost in thought, she scarcely noticed the carriage arriving at the prince’s residence through the misty rain. This time, the steward greeted her, leading her into the heir’s main courtyard.
Shu Yun carried her food box into the side chamber, sitting quietly, casting anxious glances toward the inner room. Her eyes were bloodshot, her figure frail. The steward saw and sighed silently before slipping away.
From the main room came broken groans, proof of severe pain. Shu Yun sat on the brocade stool, silent, unable to act. Last night’s events were shadows without proof; she had no idea how to proceed.
Soon, hurried footsteps sounded outside. She rose at once. The curtain was flung aside, cold wind and daylight rushing in. A woman adorned with jewels strode in. Her broad face and downcast eyes already carried an air of authority; now, with brows sharp as blades and eyes glinting with bloodthirst, she looked all the more intimidating.
It was none other than the Princess Consort Huaiyang.
Prince Huaiyang himself had arranged the marriage, but the princess consort had never approved. She disdained Shu Yun’s humble background, believing her beauty alone was not enough, and had never deigned to look at her properly.
Shu Yun pulled Shaoyao down with her to bow. “Greetings to Your Ladyship. Is the heir gravely injured?”
The princess consort’s phoenix eyes narrowed, cold light flashing as she snapped, “How dare you ask? If not for your foolish wish to pluck lanterns, how would Cheng’er have fallen from the tree?”
Shu Yun froze, her apricot eyes widening. “Your Ladyship misunderstands. I never asked the young master to fetch lanterns…”
“You still dare to argue?” The princess consort cut her off, her fine brows twisted like knotted rope, teeth clenched. “Do you claim Cheng’er’s injury has nothing to do with you?”
The wound was in a place that might affect his heirs. No matter what, the marriage could not be altered. Looking at the delicate girl before her—rosy lips, white teeth, innocent and bewildered—the consort thought a few harsh words would leave her shaken and utterly devoted.
Shu Yun gave a bitter laugh. She had seen unreasonable people before, but never such brazen twisting of truth. Though gentle by nature, she was not foolish. Without evidence, anything she said would be useless; if she failed to uncover her fiancé’s fault, she would only bring trouble upon herself.
She steadied her breath, pressing down her indignation, and with reddened eyes asked softly, “Your Ladyship reproaches me—I dare not deny it. But I am truly worried for the young master. How is his condition?”
As she spoke, a faint sorrow gathered at the tip of her nose, her worry clear in her gaze.
The princess consort, seeing her like this, believed she had cowed the girl and sighed in relief, already weighing her words. But just then, from the inner chamber came a heart-rending cry of pain. Alarmed, the princess consort dropped the matter and hurried back inside.
The sound chilled Shu Yun to the bone. Summoning her courage, she followed to the doorway. Peering in, she saw her fiancé writhing in agony, convulsing as he tried to relieve himself, his forehead pale. The princess consort ordered servants to carry him into the inner bedchamber.
Shu Yun dared not follow, but her eyes fell on the damp patch left on the couch where he had lain. Her face stiffened.
Awkward though it was, Shu Yun still had a measure of wit. Seizing the moment when no one was present, she stepped quickly inside. Her eyes swept over her fiancé’s desk—nothing unusual. Then she glanced around the room. Beneath the half-lifted quilt, a corner of dark blue caught her eye. Curious, she lifted it gently and found a sachet of indigo silk embroidered with gold thread.
It was not strange for her fiancé to carry a sachet. What was strange was that this one was not her gift—and upon it was stitched a sprig of red beans, the symbol of longing. The fine, dense needlework carried a familiar aura. This embroidery was unmistakably her cousin’s handiwork.
Shu Yun stood frozen for a long while, tears stiff upon her cheeks, before she came back to herself. She quickly restored the bedding and slipped quietly out of the corridor.
The chill of early spring brushed her face, cooling the flush on her cheeks. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, and the wind made her shiver. Shaoyao, waiting under the eaves, noticed at once and hurried to drape a satin cloak over her shoulders.
Shu Yun tightened the knot at her chest, gazing at the darkening sky, her thoughts adrift. So—her fiancé and her cousin harbored secret feelings? The thought struck her like a blow, anger rising to her brow.
Looking back, the signs were not absent. Whenever her fiancé visited the Shu household, her cousin dressed to dazzle, radiant as a blooming flower, walking with swaying grace, coy and alluring. On every outing, she contrived to join them. Considering her cousin’s ambitious nature, it was not impossible that she had set her sights on him.
To snatch the sachet outright would only alert them. The matter was grave, and Shu Yun, alone and powerless, would need to plan carefully.
After a moment, she noticed the Princess Consort Huaiyang standing coldly at the threshold. Compared to her earlier arrogance, her expression was calmer now.
The princess consort gave Shu Yun a faint glance, pausing at the sight of her tear-stained face. Seasoned by storms, her voice was steady: “Go back. Cheng’er is weary and cannot see you. The physician has applied his medicine—he should recover in four or five days. It is nothing serious.”
Then her tone shifted, half warning, half command: “This matter began with you. Only because Cheng’er defended you do I let it pass. Still, it reflects poorly on both your reputations. When your family asks, you must cover it up. Do you understand?”
It was a bargain: her silence in exchange for Shu Yun’s discretion.
But Shu Yun, still reeling from her discovery, had no strength to argue. Dazed, she nodded.
Princess Consort Huaiyang waved her hand, dismissing Shu Yun.
Once outside the prince’s residence and seated in the carriage, Shaoyao noticed her mistress unusually quiet, her expression wholly different from when they had arrived. Anxious, she urged, “Miss, will you truly not tell Madam and Master? This is no trifling matter. You must let Master speak for you.”
Shu Yun slowly lifted her eyes, her dark pupils unmoving. “Do not worry. I know what I’m doing.”
At this point, her fiancé’s injury mattered less. What weighed on her mind was the sachet. If he had betrayed her, then injured or not, this marriage could not continue.
Her mother lay long confined to bed; her father basked in scholarly renown. Until the truth was clear, she dared not speak. A single sachet proved nothing—she would need to catch them together.
She instructed Shaoyao not to let slip a word. Still worried, the maid dared not disobey; she only nodded with furrowed brows.
Back at the Shu household, the skies cleared, and the rain ceased. Passing the flower hall by the western gate, Shu Yun spotted her cousin Shu Zhi’s maid peeking about. When caught, the girl quickly stepped forward, bowed, and smiled: “Third Miss, my lady heard you returned late and feared you missed your meal. She has prepared food in Taohua Court and invites you to dine.”
In the past, Shu Yun would have thought her second sister especially considerate. Now, she suspected ulterior motives.
Following the maid, she entered Taohua Court and found Shu Zhi by the Eight Immortals table in the west chamber. Her cousin wore a scarlet jacket, hair styled in a falling-horse bun. Shu Yun had never looked closely before, but now she noticed the charm in her brows, the alluring air. Could it be that her fiancé preferred such a style?
Shu Yun greeted her as usual. Shu Zhi played the gracious hostess, serving food while carefully watching her sister’s expression. Seeing Shu Yun calm, not as though disaster had struck, she felt a measure of relief.
At yesterday’s Lantern Festival, Shu Zhi had slipped away with the heir of Huaiyang, meeting him in the woods. Shu Yun had pursued them, forcing Shu Zhi to flee in panic. Soon after, a scream rang out behind her, terrifying her to the core. She dared not look back, only fled home. Today, with no word from the prince’s household, her heart was uneasy.
After the meal, the sisters moved to the eastern chamber to drink tea. Shu Zhi, feigning casualness, asked, “By the way, Third Sister, did you go to the prince’s residence today? The heir always treats you well, finding little trinkets for you. Surely he sent another gift box today. If you have something new, don’t forget to let me see.”
Shu Yun cast her cousin a quiet glance. Shu Zhi, guilty at heart, forced herself to look away and sipped her tea slowly.
Shu Yun understood—her cousin must have been near the woods last night, heard that terrible scream, and now sought to probe her for news of the heir’s condition.
Blinking lightly, Shu Yun said, “The heir picked a rabbit lantern for me. But the path was slippery last night, and it was damaged. He told me he would have it repaired before giving it to me.”
At the mention of the “rabbit lantern,” Shu Zhi’s face changed ever so slightly. Her fingers tightened, her heartbeat rising and falling. Quickly, she forced a laugh, masking her unease. “My sister’s fortune is enviable.” If the heir could still speak with Shu Yun, then his injury was not grave.
She glanced across the table at her younger cousin. Today, Shu Yun wore an apricot-colored jacket, its collar embroidered with delicate orchids and adorned with tiny pearls that gleamed softly. Against her face—lovely as spring blossoms and autumn moon—she looked unmatched. Those limpid eyes shimmered with gentle light. Anyone who looked at her could not help but feel tender affection, even lowering their voice when speaking, as though afraid to startle her. Her beauty was famed throughout the capital, yet her nature remained childlike, innocent—she did not know how to win a man’s heart.
Shu Zhi felt half envy, half scorn. One worry eased, another rose. Lifting her teacup with deliberate leisure, she said, “Third Sister, yesterday my father returned with news: the retired emperor has decreed a flower-viewing banquet at Swallow Lake, intending to choose a consort for His Majesty. Princes and noble sons will all attend. Could you take me along?”
Shu Yun did not answer at once. She still did not know the true state of her fiancé’s injury. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “If the heir invites me, I will certainly bring Cousin with me.”
Shu Zhi smiled faintly. That was Shu Yun’s nature—soft and yielding, never daring to go against the heir’s word. Her pale fingers tapped the rim of her teacup, her tone layered with meaning. “Yun Yun, you know well—both you and our eldest sister are already betrothed. I’m caught in the middle, anxious. How could a younger sister marry first while the elder remains at home? I must secure a match quickly, so you may enter the prince’s household smoothly.”
“This time, no matter what, you must accompany me.”
She had long been preparing. With the retired emperor presiding over the flower-viewing banquet, her plan could finally succeed. Prince Huaiyang was the retired emperor’s eldest son, his prestige towering among the princes. The heir was the emperor’s cherished favorite. Such fortune should not fall to a fool like Shu Yun.
Shu Yun did not know what scheme her cousin plotted. She thought that if she could attend, she might uncover the truth. Her eyes shone with hope as she said, “I’ll wait for word from the heir first.”
Seven days later, the heir of Prince Huaiyang sent a message, inviting Shu Yun to join him at the spring banquet. As expected, invitations were also extended to the other Shu daughters.
Shu Yun gazed at the gilded card for a long time, lost in thought.