The flower hall was some distance from the bedchamber, and Song Xian walked slowly alongside the Princess Royal, with the attendants trailing far behind.
“Ah Xian, don’t hold it against Duanrong.” The Princess Royal kept her gaze fixed ahead as she spoke gravely. Duanrong was her daughter—how could she not understand her thoughts? Unable to persuade Duanrong, she could only try to persuade Song Xian instead.
“She only worries for Yuchuan. That child has suffered since he was young. When he ran away for two years, Duanrong was beside herself with anxiety. Ever since his return, she has clung to him in everything, terrified he might quarrel with Wei Haifeng again and leave home.”
“Duanrong was spoiled by her father from childhood. She often speaks and acts without restraint, but she means no harm. Ah Xian, don’t take it to heart.”
Song Xian supported the Princess Royal’s hand and matched her pace. She understood well: these words were spoken for the sake of Princess Duanrong, but also for her own.
Now she saw clearly—who in life does not live for themselves? Wei Ling lived for himself, Princess Duanrong lived for herself, and even she, in wanting to leave, was only seeking her own peace of mind.
“I know.”
“Yuchuan had few playmates as a child. His elder brother was cut from the same mold as Wei Haifeng and could never get along with him. Later, I heard there was one boy who grew close to Yuchuan, but that child, too, was unfortunate—gone before reaching his teens.”
The Princess Royal recalled with sorrow: “Once he even came to hide here. I asked what had happened, but he wouldn’t say. He just stayed alone in the room, refusing to let the servants extinguish the lamps at night, and not even allowing the door to be shut.” She sighed suddenly.
Song Xian was curious. “So Second Master slept with the lights on even when he was that young?”
“Yes. Yuchuan dislikes speaking of it. When Yixian accidentally found out, he scolded her. But you are Yuchuan’s wife—I hope you will think more for him.”
Song Xian had already begun to suspect something.
Once, when she went looking for him, the front courtyard was deserted. She searched the study but found no trace of him, so she went to the side chamber. The door was not locked, only left ajar. She pushed it open gently—and then stood stunned for quite some time. Inside, the room was crammed full of lanterns—lanterns of every kind, more varied even than those at the Lantern Festival, dazzling enough to make one’s eyes swim.
On the side table lay scattered tools and half‑finished lanterns. And there sat Wei Ling, buried among them, his head lowered against the desk, utterly motionless. She hadn’t dared disturb him, quietly closing the door before leaving.
After that, whenever she went to the study, she would glance toward that side chamber. The door was always locked, never opened again. She knew he feared the dark—but fear of the dark was not something shameful. What she hadn’t expected was that his fear ran so deep.
That room was his secret. He never spoke of it, and she never asked.
“Wei Haifeng has a violent temper—when angered, he resorts to fists and kicks. Duanrong couldn’t control him, nor did she think to come to me. Foolish girl.” The Princess Royal spoke bitterly. “Later, I learned Yuchuan had been locked up twice by Wei Haifeng. Imagine—a child of four or five shut in a pitch‑black room for two days straight. Who could endure that?”
Her words, spoken so lightly, struck Song Xian with shock. So that was the truth.
“Yuchuan’s body was frail to begin with. Each time he was confined, he fell ill for half a month, plagued by nightmares every night. A perfectly good child was tormented into skin and bones.”
The Princess Royal was trembling with rage, her hand quivering faintly in Song Xian’s grasp.
“I regret it bitterly,” she broke off, then spat out her resentment: “That useless father is to blame for the way Yuchuan has become.”
By then, they had reached the bedchamber. The Princess Royal said no more, only holding Song Xian’s hand. “Ah Xian, you are a good girl. For Yuchuan to marry you is his blessing. From now on, just live your days well together.”
“Yes.” Song Xian’s heart grew heavy, yet knowing all this did not change her decision.
Such a man truly needed someone by his side—only, it was a pity that person would not be her. If only he had been willing to share these things with her back then—how could she not have understood? How could husband and wife have ended up so estranged?
Song Xian steadied her thoughts and helped the Princess Royal onto the couch.
“Princess Royal, Young Master Wei has arrived,” a servant announced.
“Is he afraid I’ll bully you, and so came especially to protect you?” The Princess Royal’s earlier anger had vanished; she looked at Song Xian with a smile.
Song Xian was startled by this notion and quickly explained, “Second Master must have business with you.”
Wei Ling had already stepped across the threshold. At the sight of Song Xian, he clearly faltered.
The Princess Royal did not notice and teased, “What’s this? You’ve barely been apart a moment, and already you’ve rushed here to find her?”
Both of them grew awkward at once, neither knowing how to respond.
“You—how long has it been since you last came to see me? The last time was summer, and now it’s already winter.”
“It is this grandson’s fault. I’ve had much to attend to lately.”
The Princess Royal gave a sharp “hmph.” “So now you’re working under the Emperor?”
“Yes.”
“Though the realm is at peace, the Emperor still harbors many concerns. To serve a ruler is like living beside a tiger. Yuchuan, you must think of yourself—and of Ah Xian as well. Do not draw too near.” She offered the warning without knowing why.
Wei Ling assented, then turned to Song Xian. “Go out first. I have something to discuss with Grandmother.”
Song Xian agreed readily, closing the door behind her as she left.
“What matter requires sending Ah Xian away?”
Wei Ling drew a folded letter from his sleeve and placed it on the small table beside the Princess’s couch.
“Making it all so secretive…” The Princess Royal opened the letter—and at once froze, struck dumb, unable to speak another word.
As Song Xian passed through the small garden, she happened upon Qin Yixian chatting with several young ladies. Qin Yixian waved her over: “Cousin‑in‑law, come quickly.”
There were many people gathered—daughters of noble houses, most of whom Song Xian did not know. She could not avoid them, so she braced herself and walked forward. She had never liked such occasions. In the past, her elder sister would shield her from cutting remarks, but now there was no one ahead of her—she had to face everything herself.
Qin Yixian affectionately pulled her close. “Cousin‑in‑law, didn’t I tell you to come find me? Why didn’t you?”
“I was with Aunt and Cousin all morning, helping to receive guests. How could I find the time?” Song Xian replied with a gentle smile.
“Oh, I see.” Qin Yixian nodded knowingly, then turned to introduce her. “This is my cousin‑in‑law. Isn’t she beautiful?”
Most of the young ladies present were finely dressed and striking in appearance. Only Qin Yixian would tease her so openly.
Song Xian was about to speak when a girl in a dark‑blue gown chimed in: “Beautiful, beautiful—cousin‑in‑law is lovelier than the courtesan of Apricot Blossom House.”
“Pah! How dare you compare someone from Apricot Blossom House to my cousin‑in‑law.”
“Ah, you’re right.” The girl thought seriously for a moment. “But I can’t think of anyone prettier than her.”
“You’re silly—my cousin‑in‑law is simply the most beautiful.”
The two girls argued cheerfully over who was “most beautiful.” Song Xian only smiled without comment. Truly, they were still young, their hearts so innocent.
Just then, a girl in bamboo‑green robes, who had been standing quietly aside, spoke up: “The embroidery on cousin‑in‑law’s gown is exquisite.”
At once, several young ladies turned their gaze to her gown, exclaiming in admiration:
“Truly, I’ve never seen this star‑and‑moon pattern before.”
“Look at that little bird—it seems ready to fly right out.”
“Cousin‑in‑law, quickly tell us which embroidery house this is from—I want to buy one too!”
Qin Yixian beamed with pride. “This was embroidered by my cousin‑in‑law herself. You won’t find it for sale anywhere!”
The others sighed in regret.
“Such exquisite clothing—I’d pay any price for it.”
“I think it’s lovelier than anything from Shun Garment House!”
“What a pity, cousin‑in‑law’s skill is wasted.”
Indeed, women of the capital spared no expense. Once, Chen Zhi’an had told her how much she spent on rouge and powder, and Song Xian had been utterly stunned. If she could secure that riverside shop, she thought, two hundred taels could be earned back easily.
But Song Xian shook her head inwardly. This was no time for such thoughts. A shop that fine must have been sold long ago—and besides, she would not remain in Shengjing.
“What’s there to pity? Cousin‑in‑law can embroider for Cousin, and for me too.” Qin Yixian turned to her. “Cousin‑in‑law, you promised me a handkerchief last time, but I still haven’t received it!”
“It’s already finished. I forgot to bring it today. Send someone to fetch it another day.”
“Alright then.”
More voices of envy followed.
“Your cousin‑in‑law treats you so well—I can even smell that you both wear the same fragrance.”
“Of course. This sachet was a gift from her.”
“What gift? You snatched it from my room!”
Everyone burst into laughter.
Gradually, Song Xian let down her guard. Whether because she was now Wei Ling’s wife, or because she was the Princess Royal’s granddaughter‑in‑law, or simply because hearts were different—everyone treated her kindly. In that moment, she felt at ease, the anxious unease of earlier gone.
The girls chatted and laughed, filling the garden with joy.
Suddenly, a strange maid approached Qin Yixian and whispered something in her ear.
Qin Yixian frowned impatiently. “Must Aunt insist on finding me at this very moment? Go back and tell her I’ll come later.”
Song Xian cast a faint glance at the departing maid, but was quickly pulled back by Qin Yixian. “Cousin‑in‑law, go on—what happened to that scholar afterward?”
“It’s only a little tale from a storybook. If you’re truly interested, I’ll have someone bring the book for you to read.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Your mother is looking for you. You’d better go quickly—don’t delay.”
Qin Yixian was reluctant. “Aunt is entertaining the ladies right now. If she calls me, it’s surely to parade me before them again. I don’t want to go.”
Song Xian could say no more. In the end, when Madam Cao’s people came to fetch her, she left first.
That evening, the birthday banquet was held in the garden. Lanterns and decorations made it festive, and the rules were relaxed—men and women could sit together. Yet because the Emperor was present, the atmosphere carried a certain gravity. At the head of the table, the Princess Royal seemed distracted, lost in thought.
Song Ken and Tan Huizhi were also there. Song Xian had already greeted them earlier, and now they sat in the lower seats.
It was only at the start of the banquet that she saw Wei Ling again. He looked far more subdued than in the afternoon, his brows lowered, his spirit dim.
Song Xian pondered—she did not know what the Princess Royal had said to him, but something seemed amiss.
Wei Ling sat down beside her. On the other side, Princess Duanrong scolded, “Where have you been? The banquet has already begun.”
Wei Ling did not answer. He simply raised his cup and drained it.
Duanrong gave him a long look, then turned to Song Xian. “Have you prepared the gift to present to Mother later?”
“All prepared—yours, Father’s, and Yujun’s. I just checked Second Master’s as well; everything is in order.” Song Xian dared not treat this lightly.
Hearing her name, Wei Yujun glanced over and muttered, “If anything goes wrong, I’ll—” but before she could finish, Wei Ling’s sharp look silenced her at once.
The banquet formally began. After the initial congratulations, each household presented their gifts.
First came the Crown Prince: “On this auspicious day, may all be well. Nephew wishes Aunt longevity year after year, with all things in harmony.”
“The Crown Prince is thoughtful. From now on, you must be diligent and ease your father’s burdens.”
“Yes, Nephew will remember Aunt’s teaching.” The Crown Prince had only just come of age. He looked young, somewhat plump, with vacant eyes—hardly resembling the heir to a nation, Song Xian thought. The thought was bold, and she quickly withdrew it.
When it was the General’s household’s turn, Wei Yujun stepped forward and recited the prepared congratulatory words: “Yujun, on behalf of the General’s household, wishes Grandmother longevity as the southern mountains, blessings as vast as the sea, a life of joy, and eternal family bliss.”
The servants of the General’s household then brought forth the gifts. The Princess Royal examined them one by one, greatly pleased.
Song Xian’s heart finally settled. She had feared something might go wrong with the gifts—if that happened, she could never clear her name, and Princess Duanrong would surely blame her.
Fortunately, all was well.
The Princess Royal asked, “Was this Buddha statue prepared by Yujun?”
“It was Second Brother who arranged it.”
The Princess Royal nodded with a smile. “Yuchuan understands me best.”
The Emperor, seated nearby, added, “Indeed. He even came to ask my opinion, worried you might not like it.”
“Yuchuan is thoughtful.”
And the man at the center of it all seemed oblivious, drinking cup after cup of wine.
Song Xian lightly patted his shoulder. “Second Master?”
Wei Ling looked over in a daze, his eyes clouded. Song Xian was startled—what had happened to him?
At that moment, those at the head table also turned to look. Princess Duanrong and Wei Haifeng frowned faintly. Sitting beside him, Song Xian had no choice but to lean closer and whisper, “Second Master, Grandmother praised the Buddha statue you gave her.”
But Wei Ling gently pushed her aside, ignoring her words, showing no reaction at all.
The Princess Royal must have noticed, for she quickly changed the subject, and the other households continued presenting their gifts.
Wei Haifeng grew furious. Though he tried to control his voice, the anger was plain: “Yuchuan, what are you doing!”
Wei Yujun, who had just sat down, jumped in fright and dared not speak.
“Heh.” Wei Ling acted as though he hadn’t heard.
“I’ll tell you this—this is the Princess Royal’s residence, and His Majesty is present. Even if the Princess Royal dotes on you, you cannot make a scene!” Wei Haifeng barked. “Put away that foul temper. Don’t think that just because your wings have hardened I can’t discipline you!”
“What right do you have to control me?” Wei Ling turned his head, his tone openly defiant.
“I am your father! What sin did I commit in a past life to have such a rebellious son as you!” Wei Haifeng roared.
“Enough—if you must quarrel, take it home.” Princess Duanrong restrained Wei Haifeng, who was about to lunge forward. “Yuchuan, you too—do you not know what occasion this is today?”
It was the first time Song Xian had seen the two of them clash. Though it was hardly a great conflict—merely a father scolding his son—the slight trembling of the shoulder beside her sent a jolt through her heart.
Recalling what the Princess Royal had told her at noon, Song Xian felt an even deeper sympathy for Wei Ling. She had not understood before, but now she did.
Fortunately, Wei Ling only lowered his head and drank, saying nothing. The quarrel faded away without a sound.
Song Xian watched him pour cup after cup, draining each one, and her heart ached. “Second Master, take it easy. Too much wine harms the body.”
The wine prepared at the Princess Royal’s residence today was of the finest vintage. If he kept drinking it like water, it would surely do him harm.
Wei Ling still paid her no heed. Song Xian, helpless, snatched the wine jug from his hand. For the first time, she spoke to him in a firm voice: “Second Master, today is Grandmother’s birthday banquet!”
“What right do you have to control me?” Wei Ling’s tone was utterly cold. In his eyes were confusion, disdain, and even anger. Song Xian’s heart chilled instantly. She said no more, but she did not return the jug.
Wei Ling pressed his fingers to his brow, then staggered to his feet. Bai Yi quickly supported him from behind. Without a word, he left.
Princess Duanrong summoned a maid to follow after him, while Song Xian chose not to interfere.
He was a grown man—no matter what troubles he faced, he should not throw a tantrum regardless of the occasion, with no sense of propriety at all.
The banquet continued. Dancers and musicians filed in, and the atmosphere reached its peak.
As the crowd shifted, Song Ken and Tan Huizhi came forward.
“Greetings, Princess, General.” Song Ken bowed.
Wei Haifeng’s earlier anger had subsided. He raised a hand politely. “No need for such formality, in‑law.”
Song Xian rose, stepping past Wei Ling’s empty seat to stand beside Princess Duanrong.
Song Ken accepted a wine cup from the servant behind him. “My son Song Yu has benefited from the General’s guidance, and my daughter has been under the Princess’s protection. As their father, I offer this humble cup in thanks to you both.”
Indeed, the Imperial Guards to which Song Yu belonged were under the jurisdiction of the Jingji Army. One branch safeguarded the capital within the city walls, while the Jingji Army oversaw affairs outside. Wei Haifeng, as Minister of the Inner Guard, was Song Yu’s superior.
After the exchange of courtesies, Song Ken asked, “Why do I not see Yuchuan?”
At the mention of Wei Ling, Wei Haifeng grew angry, but Princess Duanrong quickly interjected: “Yuchuan felt stifled and went out for some air.”
“Young men can never sit still,” Song Ken said with a laugh. “But I heard Yuchuan came today together with His Majesty. I hadn’t expected that at such a young age he would already be serving at the Emperor’s side—truly promising.”
Unfortunately, Song Ken’s flattery missed the mark. Wei Haifeng was far from pleased. “He only relies on the Princess Royal’s status. Who knows what he does in private?”
“This…” Song Ken was disconcerted by such a response and, for a moment, did not know what to say.
After a brief silence, Princess Duanrong glanced toward the head seat and said to the group, “Mother looks tired. I’ll go check on her. Ah Xian, come with me.”
At her words, Song Ken discreetly nudged Tan Huizhi beside him. Tan Huizhi had no choice but to speak: “We arrived late today and haven’t yet paid our respects to the Princess Royal. This is a good chance to do so together.”
Princess Duanrong hesitated, casting Song Xian a subtle look before finally saying, “Very well.”
Song Xian felt a vague unease. Princess Duanrong was acting strangely today. In the afternoon, she had sought out Qin Yixian several times, and during the banquet, she kept glancing across at Qin Yixian’s seat.
Now that the seat was empty, and the Princess Royal, who had rested all afternoon, was in good spirits—hardly likely to be tired so soon.
The more Song Xian thought, the more alarmed she became. Could Princess Duanrong be planning something at this moment?
“Mother, since the Princess Royal is tired, we shouldn’t trouble her further. As it happens, I also have something to discuss with you.” Song Xian instinctively held back Tan Huizhi. Whatever Princess Duanrong intended, she must not drag the Marquis Suqing’s household into it.
Song Ken immediately showed displeasure. “Child, what matter can’t wait for another time?”
“Indeed—we rarely come to the Princess Royal’s residence. Proper courtesy must be observed.”
For some reason, Princess Duanrong grew anxious. She said hastily, “Then let’s go,” and turned to leave the table.
Tan Huizhi followed at once, and Song Xian, helpless, trailed behind.
For the first time, Wei Ling lost control. Since the afternoon, his mind had been in turmoil, unable to think of anything clearly. As night deepened, the chill grew sharper. Away from the garden, the Princess Royal’s residence lay in silence.
Wei Ling leaned against a pillar, head bowed low.
Bai Yi urged softly, “My lord, go rest awhile in the waterside pavilion.”
The figure before him seemed half asleep. Dressed in somber gray, he blended into the night, his back radiating loneliness.
After a long while, Bai Yi finally heard him speak: “How long has Bai Ze been gone?”
“An hour.”
Qincheng was not far from Shengjing—an hour’s ride should nearly reach it.
Wei Ling nodded, then turned toward the pavilion. The cold wind might clear his head. The wine was rising, his chest burning hot, his whole body aflame.
Half‑dazed, he heard Bai Yi call out, then saw a blurred figure approach, carrying a familiar scent.
So many things had slipped beyond his control. The Minister of Agriculture had joined forces with the Grand Chancellor Zou Zheng to accuse him of defying the law and acting recklessly. That very morning, Emperor Xuan had summoned him to the palace, hinting again and again that he must restrain himself, think twice before acting.
In his heart, he felt only contempt. The Emperor had granted him power, yet now shrank back, fearful of the court ministers—how could anything be accomplished that way?
And the inquiries he had set in motion days ago had borne fruit. Though Grandmother denied it vehemently, her reaction had already revealed the truth.
The parents he had called by that name for twenty‑three years were not his parents. He did not even know who his real parents were.
How laughable—Wei Haifeng was not his father.
He was beginning to lose all sense of what was real and what was false.
Leaving aside his parentage, even Song Xian was slipping beyond the bounds he had set. Before, whenever he sought her, she was always there. Now, when he returned to the rear courtyard, she was either away or nowhere to be found. She had never defied him before, but now she denied him both what he wanted and what he did not want.
In the past, when Mother scolded her, she would timidly come to the study with calming soup, saying nothing, but her eyes full of hope—hope he had seen clearly.
But he could do nothing. He could not give her hope.
Now her eyes held no trace of him. Even when she suffered under Mother’s hand, she did not come to him. When Mother tried to place Yixian at his side, she reacted coolly and grew close to Yixian instead.
The more Wei Ling thought, the more his jaw ached with anger, the fire inside ready to burst. She had even gone out secretly to meet another man? How dared she!
Just a callow youth—how could he compare to him?
Suddenly, his head throbbed as if splitting. Song Xian’s image forced itself into his mind, impossible to drive away. He pressed his forehead, trying to ease the pain, but nothing helped. Only when that familiar faint fragrance drew nearer, seeping into his senses, did he gradually calm. No—that wasn’t right. She was still in his grasp. He had just lashed out at her in anger, yet now she had come to find him again. No matter what, she could not leave him.
“You came,” Wei Ling lifted the corner of his lips, though his tone was flat.
Qin Yixian, just arriving, was bewildered. How did her cousin know she would come?
Moments earlier, Aunt had sent her, saying that after quarreling with Uncle, her cousin had gone out alone. Fearing he might lose his way in the Princess Royal’s residence, she was told to bring him back.
It made sense—her cousin‑in‑law was unfamiliar with their household, and the servants likely couldn’t persuade him. She had to come herself.
But something about him seemed off.
Before she could speak, he said, “Xiao Hengyi has entered the Court of Judicial Review. He now serves under me.”
Qin Yixian: “???”
There was no reaction as she expected. The blurred figure before her seemed unmoved. Wei Ling frowned in displeasure. “Don’t think that just because I’ve indulged you lately, you can do as you please. As long as you behave, wealth and honor will never be lacking for you.”
“Next time you want to return home, I’ll accompany you. Don’t leave without a word, and don’t wander the streets at will. I forbid it.” Fueled by wine, he spoke words he would never normally say, his voice sinking lower and lower. “Don’t refuse me.”
Aunt had said he’d drunk “a little,” but this was no mere “little.” And these words…?
Qin Yixian couldn’t tell if they were true or false. She did like her cousin, yes—but that liking had long since turned into admiration. Besides, her cousin‑in‑law treated her so kindly. No matter how irrational she might be, she could never do something so shameful.
Her cousin must be confused for the moment. She was about to step closer when suddenly he reached out, pulling her into his arms.
Qin Yixian froze, stunned, unable to move. “C‑cousin?”
Even Bai Yi at the side was shocked. But when his eyes shifted to the waterside pavilion, he saw figures standing outside—he did not know when they had arrived. His heart sank, and his voice trembled as he spoke: “Princess Royal… Princess Duanrong… Madam…”