In the blink of an eye, several months had passed. That year’s autumn was slow in coming—by the beginning of August, the weather had yet to cool. Madam Su, noticing her daughter’s recent distraction, invited Wang Youjun to visit. The two girls set up a small table to grind cosmetic powders. Taking advantage of the lotus blossoms that had not yet withered, Shaoyao led a maid to the rear garden pond to gather flowers, finally managing to bring back a basin of radiant pink lotuses.
Shu Yun herself crushed the petals, while Wang Youjun prepared fragrant balms and powders. The two chatted and laughed together.
“You know,” Wang Youjun teased, “you really ought to agree to Pei Yansheng.”
Shu Yun blushed, glaring at her. “Why bring that up out of nowhere?”
Wang Youjun lifted her fingertip, stained with red lacquer, and brushed it against Shu Yun’s flushed cheek. “Haven’t you heard? Princess Linchuan coaxed her son to the Liang Garden for an autumn outing, arranging for him to meet the eldest daughter of the Shaanxi General’s household. But Pei Yansheng grew angry, covered his eyes in the waterside pavilion, and declared: ‘Other than Sister Yun, I’ll look at no one, marry no one. There is no girl in this world more beautiful than Sister Yun…’”
Imitating his tone, Wang Youjun pulled a mischievous face.
Seeing Shu Yun stunned, her cheeks pale yet tinged with spring warmth—like a ripe peach glistening with dew—Wang Youjun couldn’t resist pinching them. “The whole thing has become a laughingstock. Imagine, the young lord starving himself for you—can you really be so heartless?”
Shu Yun turned away, uneasy, and avoided her hand. “How could he say such things? Not only did he embarrass that young lady, but he’s also dragged me into being the villain.”
“Exactly,” Wang Youjun agreed, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now no one in the capital dares propose a match with Prince Linchuan’s household. Tell me, isn’t that proof you’ve been claimed already?”
Shu Yun grew flustered and pounded the pestle harder. “To marry such a foolish husband—every day would be a fresh joke.”
“Oh, listen to you, as if you’re so clever yourself. Aren’t you just as silly?” Wang Youjun pinched her cheek again, tugging playfully.
Shu Yun’s skin was delicate and translucent, smooth as silk. Wang Youjun sighed in envy. “With beauty like this, no wonder you’ve stolen his soul.”
Shu Yun winced at the pinch, dropped the pestle, and suddenly sprang up to grab Wang Youjun’s slender waist. Startled, Wang Youjun let go at once, smoothed her skirt, and ran off. But Shu Yun would not let her escape—she chased her down, pressed her onto the luohan couch beneath the corridor, and tickled her mercilessly until Wang Youjun burst into helpless laughter.
“Dearest sister, I was wrong! Stop now, or my skirt will be all wrinkled. Tomorrow my household issues the monthly allowance—let me treat you to a banquet at Honghe Pavilion, will that do?”
Their laughter rang out with the slanting autumn light, drifting beyond the courtyard walls.
Meanwhile, Shu Lanfeng was leading Prince Huaiyang toward the study’s guest chamber when the silvery laughter echoed beneath the eaves. Shu Lanfeng flushed with embarrassment and bowed. “It is my failing as a father to have raised such unruly daughters. Forgive me, my lord.”
Prince Huaiyang stroked his long beard and laughed heartily. “Brother, you’re too formal. I know exactly what kind of temperament Yun-girl has. This is clearly that little Wang lass making mischief.”
Smiling, the two men entered the study. Soon Madam Su arrived with maids, serving tea and setting out fruits and pastries. Prince Huaiyang said warmly, “Sister-in-law, please sit. I’ve come today for Yun-girl’s marriage—it is only right that you both decide together.”
Madam Su looked troubled, but the prince’s earnestness left her no room to refuse. She sat beside her husband in the round-backed chair.
Once the servants closed the door, Prince Huaiyang wasted no time with pleasantries. “To be frank, Brother Shu, Sister-in-law—I come today entrusted by the Prince and Princess Linchuan to propose a match. Yansheng is set on Yun-girl. At last his parents have relented, and yesterday they formally asked me to act as go-between.”
“You’ve met Yansheng before. There’s no one more sincere—he’s a thousand times better than my own reckless son. I pressed him yesterday: if he ever wrongs Yun Shu, I’ll be the first to punish him. He nearly knelt before me. When he heard I’d be coming to your house today, he was so overjoyed he couldn’t sleep all night.”
Shu Lanfeng and his wife exchanged a glance, sweat beading on their foreheads. At this point, to refuse would be sheer ingratitude.
Prince Huaiyang had been friends with Shu Lanfeng for many years and knew well that Madam Su decided household matters. So he smiled and waited for her opinion.
Madam Su sighed inwardly, though her face showed only cheerful composure. “Such a marriage is far above our station. As parents, how could we not wish our child to marry well? But Your Highness also knows—Yun’er suffered some setbacks when we sought a son-in-law before. Her spirits are low. To force her suddenly, I fear she might take it badly. Perhaps… let me suggest this—”
She offered a compromise. “Arrange an opportunity for the two children to meet. If they take a liking to one another, that would be best of all. What do you think?”
If Shu Yun refused, they could still give Prince Huaiyang an explanation. If she agreed, then Madam Su and Shu Lanfeng would have one less worry.
Prince Huaiyang considered and found it reasonable. “Very well. I’ll go to my third brother’s house at once and give word, so they can set a time for the meeting.”
Madam Su and Shu Lanfeng rose to see him out.
Prince Huaiyang, delighted that half the matter was settled, waved repeatedly, urging the couple not to escort him too far. At that moment, Shu Zhi, hiding in a side room, caught sight of the scene and gnashed her teeth in fury.
On the day Shu Zhi’s betrothal banquet was held, only Princess Consort Huaiyang had attended; the prince himself had not even shown his face. Yet now, for Shu Yun’s marriage, he came to the third branch every few days, never once visiting the proper in-laws’ household. Shu Zhi’s heart burned with resentment.
That night, when the eldest master returned, Shu Zhi blocked him at the passageway to complain. Hearing her, the eldest master’s face turned bitter. He too felt humiliated, but the matter was already settled—what use was more talk? Back in the main quarters, he muttered a few words to his wife, only to be met with her scornful sneer.
“Who told your daughter to use underhanded means? Naturally, the prince won’t look at her properly.”
The master’s temper flared. His wife offered no comfort, only trampled on the wound. Standing by the window, clutching the robe he had just removed, he said, “She is your daughter too. If outsiders mistreat her, that’s one thing—but why should you, as her mother, despise her? Had you guided her well, would she have gone astray?”
The lady’s face hardened. She rose and went into the inner room. “She simply refuses to be disciplined.” After all, the elder daughter had been raised by her too—obedient, proper, praised by all. Unlike the younger one, who had brought her shame.
The eldest master saw that his wife’s heart was as hard as stone. With a frustrated sigh, he pulled his outer robe back on, turned, and strode off toward the courtyard of his concubine.
Shu Zhi had bribed someone to eavesdrop at the main quarters. Hearing her mother’s words, she was so enraged she buried her head beneath the bedding and wept. Ever since her betrothal, Pei Jiangcheng had grown distant, no longer as warm as before. Only then did she realize that the prince’s son was accustomed to “eating from the bowl while eyeing the pot”—once he had secured her, she no longer seemed novel. And she, meanwhile, suffered cold looks from all sides. Truly, she regretted her choices.
Her old wet nurse, who had raised her since infancy, sat by the bed and held her close, soothing her. “My dear girl, things are difficult now, but once you marry, all will be well. You must look ahead. Reputation is empty—what matters are real benefits. Take the eldest young lady, for example. She is promised to the heir of Marquis Liu, but the Liu family is nothing but an empty shell. How could they compare to the noble Prince Huaiyang’s household?”
Hearing this, Shu Zhi lifted her eyes, her gloom swept away. “Nanny, you’re right. At present I am the most accomplished among my sisters. I mustn’t belittle myself.” She wiped away her tears, regained her spirit, and ordered her maid to bring the embroidery frame. “I must prepare my wedding garments properly.”
Meanwhile, in the third branch, Madam Su and Shu Lanfeng coaxed and persuaded until Shu Yun finally agreed to meet Pei Yansheng once.
They thought it would be a private meeting. But three days later, a eunuch arrived from the palace with a message: “By order of the Retired Emperor: with the Mid-Autumn family banquet approaching, the third young lady of the Shu family is permitted to enter the palace to attend.”
Enter the palace? Shu Yun’s heart trembled—she had always felt uneasy about going there.
Madam Su, seeing her daughter’s dazed expression, grew deeply worried. The Retired Emperor’s decree was suspicious. Quietly, she slipped a silver ingot into the eunuch’s hand and asked gently, “Please enlighten me, sir. My daughter has not yet been formally betrothed to the royal family. How could she be blessed to attend such a banquet?”
The eunuch weighed the ingot—it was heavy—and his smile broadened. “Madam, you are too modest. Here is the truth: yesterday several princes went to pay respects to the Retired Emperor. In conversation, Prince Huaiyang mentioned your daughter’s match with the Linchuan heir. The Retired Emperor took great interest and said, why not bring her into the palace during the Mid-Autumn banquet, so he might see her for himself?”
Madam Su’s heart pounded. If the Retired Emperor approved of Shu Yun, then there would be no way to refuse the marriage. Outwardly calm, she respectfully saw the eunuch off. Once the door was shut, she pulled her stunned daughter into the main quarters of the rear courtyard.
“Child, we have no choice in this matter. If the Retired Emperor nods his head, you must marry.”
Shu Yun stood rigid by the tall table beneath the window, brows furrowed, her face blank with bewilderment.
Madam Su gently pressed Shu Yun down onto the luohan couch. Once the situation became clear, she followed the tide and began to persuade her daughter to think more openly.
“Consider carefully, child—whether bringing a husband into the household or marrying out, the most important thing is that your husband treats you well. A difficult mother-in-law is only a temporary hardship; a good husband is a lifetime’s blessing. Your father and I have lived this way ourselves.”
She sat beside Shu Yun, smoothing her shoulders and tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears. Gazing at her daughter’s flowerlike beauty, she sighed. “Yansheng is much like you in temperament—warm-hearted and sincere. He may not achieve great feats, but his status alone is enough to uphold the Shu family’s honor. And he is willing to risk everything for you. With both substance and reputation secured, what more could you ask?”
Shu Yun’s eyes reddened. “It’s not that I think poorly of him… it’s that he is too good, and I…”
“I know.” Madam Su cut her off, enclosing her daughter’s cold hands in her own. In truth, Shu Yun simply did not like Pei Yansheng.
Madam Su spoke calmly. “There is no such thing as having everything at once. If he suits your heart, he will have other flaws. You are still young—do not be deceived by appearances. Affection can grow slowly.”
Hearing this, Shu Yun recalled how she had twice been deceived before—first by Pei Jiangcheng’s empty promises, then by the Seventh Master coaxing her to become his concubine. Compared to them, Pei Yansheng was indeed the best choice. She took her mother’s words to heart and finally resolved herself. “Mother, rest assured. I know what I must do.”
The next day, Wang Youjun somehow learned that Shu Yun was to attend the banquet. She hurried by carriage to the Shu residence and invited her to go shopping together.
Madam Su, eager to adorn her daughter, handed Shu Yun a banknote of one thousand taels and instructed Nanny Dan to accompany her to purchase a proper set of jewelry.
Wang Youjun, being the Retired Emperor’s granddaughter, often entered the palace with her mother. Along the way, she explained to Shu Yun the rules of attending a palace banquet. Since Shu Yun had decided to meet her suitor properly, she listened intently, committing every word to memory.
At last, an autumn rain had come, and osmanthus blossoms covered the branches. The Grand Empress Dowager loved osmanthus, so the capital’s main avenues were lined with the trees. The Shu family lived in Chongbei Ward; leaving the alley and heading north along Chongwen Street, they passed fragrant blossoms quietly opening amid the fine drizzle.
The scent of osmanthus drifted—sometimes strong, sometimes faint. Yet when one leaned closer to smell, it seemed to vanish entirely. Shu Yun let the carriage curtain fall, a little disappointed. Opposite her sat Shu Zhi, letting her maid adjust her robes. Seeing Shu Yun’s blank expression, she teased: “Sister, you truly are worldly. Even having served as a companion reader in the palace and dined with the Retired Emperor, you show no excitement.”
Shu Yun retorted coldly, “Are you made of firecrackers, sister? You ignite yourself before anyone even lights you.”
Shu Zhi was struck dumb, glaring fiercely. Soon, as if recalling something, she put on a solemn air. “I am your elder sister, after all. Grandmother entrusted me to watch over you. Remember to stay close behind me and don’t wander. If we sisters both marry into the royal family, it would bring the Shu clan immense honor.”
Shu Yun cast her a doubtful glance. Shu Zhi’s sudden show of sisterly affection—was it merely for appearances, to display harmony before outsiders and salvage her own face? Most likely.
Shu Yun turned away, closed her eyes, and rested.
Meanwhile, Shu Zhi had her maid lift a bronze mirror so she could touch up her makeup. Suddenly, the carriage jolted to a halt. The mirror lurched forward, striking her forehead. With a cry of pain, she clutched the spot and shouted angrily out the window: “What kind of driving is this?”
Shu Yun steadied herself against the window frame, lifted the curtain, and glanced outside. A low buzzing filled the air; ahead, the road was clogged with carriages and horses, throngs of people pressing together. The driver stammered an apology: “Forgive me, Second Miss—it is the imperial procession returning to the palace. The Yulin Guards have sealed the road. We cannot pass for now.”
Shu Zhi froze, her anger dissipating. She handed the mirror back to her maid and looked in the same direction as Shu Yun. The carriage had reached near Chongwen Gate. The imperial procession was entering from the East Gate, passing through Chongwen Gate toward Zhengyang Gate.
In moments, a grand yellow retinue surrounded a magnificent imperial palanquin rolling from the east. The carriage was draped in imperial canopies, its curtains billowing. Within sat a towering figure, his face hidden by the veil, but his posture unmistakable—straight-backed, hands resting on his knees, utterly still. He seemed like a deity enthroned, inspiring awe and reverence without effort.
The subjects below all dropped to their knees, and the two young ladies with their maids likewise knelt inside the carriage.
When the imperial procession had passed, Shu Zhi still craned her neck to look after it. “I wonder what His Majesty looks like?”
Shu Yun lowered her head, idly turning the new bracelet on her wrist, and replied indifferently, “Won’t you see him tonight anyway?”
As the crowd gradually dispersed and the barricades at Chongwen Gate were removed, the carriage moved forward again. Shu Zhi, noticing her sister’s calm composure, curled her lips in a smile.
“You think it’s so easy to see the Emperor? Yesterday I went to pay respects at Prince Huaiyang’s residence…” She paused, seeing Shu Yun turn her face aside, and felt a flicker of unease. Still, she pressed on.
“The heir said that pirates have been troubling the eastern seas. Months ago, His Majesty moved to the Tongzhou palace to summon the navy against them…”
Shu Zhi rattled on, eager to display her knowledge. Shu Yun, unwilling to listen to her boasting, cut her short. “These are court secrets. Sister, you’d best be cautious in your speech, lest you bring trouble upon the Shu family.”
Shu Zhi gave an awkward laugh. “I’m only chattering before you, little sister. Who would dare shout such things outside?”
Shu Yun said no more.
Soon the carriage reached Donghua Gate, where a great crowd of imperial kinsmen and nobles were waiting to enter the palace. Shu Yun and Shu Zhi, of lesser rank, had to stand toward the back. The Retired Emperor had many descendants—besides the reigning Emperor, there were six princes and more than twenty princesses. The princes brought their sons and grandsons, the princesses their husbands and children. The throng was so large that even the body inspections alone would take two hours.
A fine drizzle fell like silk threads. Shaoyao and Shu Zhi’s maid held umbrellas for their mistresses. After waiting two quarters of an hour, Shu Zhi began to falter, complaining to Shu Yun: “My headpiece today is far too heavy—I can hardly breathe under its weight.”
Shu Yun glanced at her coiffure. Shu Zhi was wearing a full set of gold-and-jade ornaments, no doubt the treasures from the bottom of her chest, clearly intending to dazzle at the banquet.
By contrast, Shu Yun’s adornments were more restrained. She had styled her hair in a “returning heart” bun, decorated with a few delicate pearl flowers, and wore only a single double-pronged gold hairpin inlaid with kingfisher feathers, its center set with blue and red gems. As Madam Su had said, jewelry should be chosen for refinement, not quantity. She had dressed Shu Yun this way to keep her daughter lively yet dignified.
Shu Yun ignored her sister’s complaint, leaving Shu Zhi embarrassed.
From afar, Pei Yansheng was scanning the crowd. When he spotted Shu Yun, his face lit up with joy, and he hurried over. But as he reached her, he stopped short, speaking with considerate eagerness: “Sister Yun, come with me to the front. Enter with our prince’s household.”
That was just his way—always well-meaning, but heedless of propriety.
Shu Yun gave him a gentle smile. “Heir, there are too many people here. It would not be proper.”
The sky was dim, the rain misty, yet her smile shone like the moon breaking through clouds. Pei Yansheng was struck dumb, staring.
Shu Yun, shy, turned her face aside. Shaoyao quickly stepped forward to shield her. Just as she was about to speak, Wang Youjun suddenly appeared, seized Pei Yansheng by the ear, scolded him, and pulled Shu Yun away to join the Wang family’s group—leading her straight into the palace.
Left behind on her own, Shu Zhi nearly spat blood. She had hoped Pei Jiangcheng would escort her inside, but after glancing around in every direction, she was left disappointed.
By midday, all the guests were gathered in Chongzheng Hall. Because it was a family banquet, men and women were not seated separately. Pei Yansheng led Shu Yun to pay respects to the Prince and Princess Consort Linchuan. Prince Huaiyang saw this and also came forward. He deliberately gave Shu Yun face, praising her effusively before the Linchuan couple, leaving Shu Yun embarrassed.
Prince Linchuan, mild in temperament and far less boisterous than Prince Huaiyang, merely echoed his elder brother with a single line: “She is a fine young lady.”
Princess Consort Linchuan did not care for Shu Yun. Yet her son insisted on her alone, even going so far as to starve himself in protest. With no other choice, she had agreed to the match. Casting a glance at Shu Yun, she thought to herself that the girl was too beautiful—would her son be able to keep her? But such worries were useless now. Forcing a smile, she slipped a bracelet from her wrist and handed it to Shu Yun. “Wear this for fun.”
It was a heavy gold bracelet, clearly new, likely prepared especially for her.
In such meetings, if elders were pleased, they would gift the other party something they had worn for years, a cherished possession, to show their regard. The Princess’s gesture looked generous, but in truth it was perfunctory. Shu Yun understood, yet could only accept it.
Pei Yansheng, oblivious to such subtleties, simply stood grinning foolishly at her side.
Prince Huaiyang, however, glanced at the bracelet and quietly made note of it.
The hall was lively, families mingling and exchanging courtesies. Shu Zhi finally managed to find Pei Jiangcheng and begged him to lead her to pay respects to Princess Consort Huaiyang.
Princess Consort Huaiyang, at least, gave her daughter-in-law face. “Just stay with me—you needn’t go anywhere else.”
Shu Zhi finally breathed a sigh of relief, gazing at her mother-in-law with a face full of flattery. “Thank you, Princess Consort. Zhi’er only hopes to serve you as soon as possible.”
Princess Consort Huaiyang nodded. Compared to the naïve and innocent Shu Yun, she preferred the smooth and worldly Shu Zhi.
Just then, a lofty, resonant laugh rang out from beyond the hall. Everyone recognized it as the Retired Emperor’s laughter. Instantly, the crowd fell silent, returned to their seats, and knelt in unison: “Greetings to the Retired Emperor, greetings to His Majesty.”
Outside, the wind whistled; inside, the lamps blazed brilliantly.
Through the shifting light and shadow, a figure in imperial yellow walked slowly beside the Retired Emperor.
The hall’s bustle and merriment could not erase the frost in his eyes.
In truth, Pei Yue had not been idle these past months. First, the Embroidered Guards uncovered that the scholar who struck the drum had been instigated by a Ministry of Rites official. Pei Yue knew well who stood behind that man. He executed one as a warning to many, silencing the court’s clamor for establishing a consort. Even the Retired Emperor and Grand Empress Dowager ceased to press the matter.
Meanwhile, Japanese pirates troubled the eastern seas. Pei Yue moved to the Tongzhou palace, oversaw naval campaigns, and deliberately shifted the court’s center of power there, weakening the Secretariat’s authority. Li Zhe, caught with incriminating evidence, dared not act rashly.
Not long ago, the campaign against the pirates ended in victory. The Retired Emperor sent three personal letters, compelling him to return to the capital for Mid-Autumn.
Amid the mountain-like cries of kneeling subjects, the Retired Emperor sat at the head with Pei Yue, and casually handed him a prepared edict. “Here—your nephew has chosen a girl. Your elder brother acted as matchmaker. His eye is most discerning; ordinary folk never catch his notice. She must be a fine young lady. Stamp it with your seal, and it will be your gift as an elder to the younger generation.”
Pei Yue accepted the edict with a calm face, set it aside, then lifted his gaze to the sea of people below and called out: “Rise.”
Kneeling in the corner, Shu Yun heard that faintly familiar voice, and her heart clenched tight.