The Eighth Prince, Xiao Chengye, was no fool.
The Ninth Prince, Xiao Chengxuan, however, was rather impulsive and not particularly sharp. Fortunately, he had an exceptionally intelligent younger sister, the Tenth Princess, Xiao Yanzhen.
Within the Palace of Blessing and Peace, the residence of Imperial Concubine Chen, rare and precious plants and flowers flourished. Red lacquered pillars, glazed tiles, golden platforms, and jade ornaments filled every corner, creating an atmosphere of utmost luxury and extravagance.
When she was little, Xiao Yanzhen had not understood this. She had once urged her mother not to be so ostentatious, fearing it would draw the Emperor’s displeasure. Only later did she realize that for a woman as breathtakingly beautiful as her mother, it was only by appearing shallow and arrogant that she could avoid the Empress’s jealousy and the Emperor’s suspicion—and thus survive within the treacherous confines of the imperial harem.
Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Xiao Yanzhen curtsied respectfully. “Mother, I hope you are well.”
“Ah, Zhen’er, you have come. Come closer,” Imperial Concubine Chen said, reclining lazily upon her brocade couch and smiling as she beckoned her daughter forward. “Look here—these are portraits of eligible young gentlemen from the capital’s leading families. Take a look and see if any catch your eye.”
Xiao Yanzhen was eighteen years old. As the youngest child of the reigning Emperor, and blessed with a delicate, snow-white beauty, she had long been the favorite. This was why she had remained unmarried until now.
She did not act coy or hesitant. Stepping forward, she leafed through the collection carefully. Every portrait was of a young man from the inner circle of the Nie clan. After a quick glance, she set the album aside.
“What is it?” Imperial Concubine Chen raised an elegant eyebrow. “Not a single one to your liking? Are my daughter’s standards really so high?”
“Mother,” Xiao Yanzhen asked instead of answering, “did you choose these candidates yourself, or did Grandfather favor them?”
A flicker of approval flashed across Imperial Concubine Chen’s eyes. “Does it make a difference?”
“Not at all—I was merely curious,” Xiao Yanzhen replied, lowering her gaze.
But it did make a great difference. If Grand Tutor Nie had chosen them, it would mean her Ninth Brother still held some value in his eyes and still had a chance. If her mother had selected them on her own, then none of these men would be suitable at all.
“I picked them from families we have known for years—people whose backgrounds we understand thoroughly,” Imperial Concubine Chen said evenly.
“Thank you for taking such trouble for me, Mother,” Xiao Yanzhen said with a bright smile, obediently taking the album into her arms. “I shall take it back to my quarters and look through it more carefully.”
Though her smile was radiant, her heart sank slightly. It seemed Grandfather truly had set his sights on the Imperial Grandson, Xiao Qiyuan. If that was so, then her Ninth Brother had become a disposable pawn. For the safety of the three of them—her mother, her brother, and herself—she would have to seek out new allies.
Carrying the album, she walked out of the Palace of Blessing and Peace, her mind racing through all possibilities. The names of young noblemen of high standing in the capital flashed through her thoughts, until she finally settled on three:
Jiang Xingzhou, Marquis of Jing’an; Wei Zhan, heir to the Duke of Dingbei; and Qiu Yitang, the third son of the Qiu family.
Royal consorts held no real power. The Marquis of Jing’an, however, wielded substantial authority. If a princess married him, it would not be an alliance, but a confrontation. The same applied to the heir of Dingbei.
That left the third son, Qiu Yitang, as the best choice. He did not serve in the government, yet he possessed enough influence to sway many powerful factions.
But how could she approach Qiu Yitang subtly, without arousing Grandfather’s suspicion?
Xiao Yanzhen lifted her head, and the clear, cloudless sky was so bright it made her narrow her eyes.
While undercurrents shifted in the palace, Feng Yi remained completely unaware. She was already working herself to the bone.
Jichuan Bookstore demanded her attention in a hundred different ways. She also had to help prepare He Yun’s medical clinic. And on top of everything else, she had to find time to soothe the Marquis, who flew into jealous rages at the slightest provocation.
At times, she almost felt like a master of time management. Yet she enjoyed the sense of fulfillment that came with being busy—it helped her temporarily fill the hollow feeling in her heart.
After eighteen days of intense investigation, the case of the Crown Prince’s fall from his horse finally reached a conclusion.
The mastermind was found to be a young eunuch from the Imperial Stables. His motive was said to be revenge: his elder sister had served in the Eastern Palace and, after accidentally breaking a jade scepter gifted by the Emperor, had been beaten to death on the Crown Prince’s orders. Harboring deep resentment, the eunuch had waited for an opportunity and mixed a substance that induced madness into the Crown Prince’s horse feed, causing the tragic accident.
Such a flimsy explanation naturally failed to convince the Imperial Guard. Under severe interrogation, several officials were implicated, and only then was the case considered closed.
Anyone with a clear eye could see that while those involved came from different political factions, none held positions of real authority. They were merely insignificant pawns sacrificed to shield the true culprits.
It was clear that even the Imperial Guard itself was no longer free from corruption.
When Feng Yi received a copy of the official gazette, her gaze lingered on the list of newly vacated official posts, and a thought took shape in her mind.
High-ranking officials of the Great Zhou Dynasty were not required to sit at their desks all day long. Usually, after attending the morning audience and handling urgent matters, they were free to leave their offices and return home.
One afternoon, the moment Jiang Xingzhou stepped into the Rose Pavilion, Feng Yi came gliding out to meet him.
“Linyuan,” she called, lifting her skirt slightly and hurrying to his side, naturally placing her hand into the palm he had already extended to receive her. “You are back.”
“Is the sun rising in the west today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile spread across his face. His fingers closed firmly around hers, enveloping her hand completely. “To think you would be home at this hour.”
“I have been feeling a little tired,” she pouted, resting her weight lightly on his arm and letting him guide her forward. “And besides… I missed you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, will it not?” Jiang Xingzhou turned his head, giving her cheek a gentle pinch, though he could not suppress the smile tugging at his lips. “Come then—what do you want me to do for you? Such eagerness must mean you are after something big.”
“Your Grace, that is quite unfair,” Feng Yi pulled his hand away. “Am I not allowed to miss you simply for the sake of missing you?”
“Truly?” He looked at her with an amused, knowing expression. “I will count to three. Speak up before I finish.”
“Three… two…”
“Could you transfer Yanqing back to the capital?” Feng Yi blurted out quickly, fearing he would change his mind.
Jiang Xingzhou’s smile vanished instantly. His voice came out tight, almost through gritted teeth. “Yi Yi, could you not have just missed me for once?”
“There you go again—you get upset the moment I ask,” Feng Yi muttered softly.
“And you have the nerve to argue back?” He gave a cold huff, his tone turning sharp and sarcastic. “You were planning to charm me senseless first, were you not? My Yi Yi certainly goes to great lengths for another man.”
“Stop being so jealous,” Feng Yi pulled him over to a chair and sat him down, then settled herself firmly onto his lap. “There is nothing between Yanqing and me—absolutely nothing, I swear.”
“I know that. Otherwise, he would have already gone to join the late Emperor,” he retorted, wrapping his arm around her waist. He had long since investigated every detail of her three years in Ruyi Town.
Feng Yi fell silent for a moment. That was exactly how Jiang Xingzhou operated. She wrapped her arms around his neck and turned on her most charming act. “Please, Linyuan?”
She tilted her head, her eyes shimmering with affection, reflecting only his face.
“Linyuan…”
“Cousin…”
“Xingzhou…”
“A-Zhou…”
Each name was sweeter and softer than the one before.
Jiang Xingzhou turned his head away, his Adam’s apple bobbing. In the end, he could not resist such a sweet assault, and a low laugh escaped him. He had never been able to withstand her coaxing.
Still, he was reluctant to agree so easily. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Give me a good reason to bring him here.”
“There are plenty,” Feng Yi lifted one leg, shifting from sitting on only one thigh to sitting squarely across both of his legs, her feet swinging freely in the air.
Jiang Xingzhou adjusted his posture smoothly to make her more comfortable, then raised his chin. “For example?”
“For one, Yanqing is meticulous. While he knows civil administration, he is far more skilled in criminal law and investigation. I recall his current posting is scheduled for mid-sixth month—there is still time to change the order.”
“Furthermore, there are many vacant positions in the capital right now. Every faction is rushing to place their own people. If we bring Yanqing here and assign him to a suitable post, he will become a valuable ally for you. He is upright, capable, and certain to become a trusted aide in the future.”
“A trusted aide?” Jiang Xingzhou scoffed lightly. “I barely know him. Who can say which side he will eventually stand on?”
“But I know him well,” Feng Yi replied. “And since I belong to you, he will naturally stand on your side.”
The words “I belong to you” pleased him immensely, and the warmth returned to his expression. “Any more reasons?”
“Hmm…” Feng Yi thought for a moment. “He has long admired Yun Niang. Once he is in the capital, he will naturally look after her and Yangyang. That way, I will have less to worry about and more time to spend with you.”
This last reason seemed to do the trick. Jiang Xingzhou lifted her up into his arms. So she realized she spent too little time with him at last.
About time!
“What are you doing? It is broad daylight…” Feng Yi tapped his shoulder lightly in protest.
“Miss Feng,” he looked down at her, his smile both roguish and dangerous. “When you ask someone for a favor, you should know that payment is required.”
He bounced her gently in his arms. “Daylight is perfect—everything is clear and bright. Just the right time to… look at you closely, and let you… look closely at me.”
Once inside the private chambers, he lost all sense of propriety, his words turning suggestive and teasing.
“You wrote it yourself, did you not? ‘The sun shines bright, the beauty glows bright, intoxicating the handsome lord. The wind rushes fast, the lover rushes fast…’”
“Jiang Xingzhou, be quiet!” Feng Yi’s cheeks burned instantly, and she quickly pressed her hand over his mouth. If he finished the rest of the verse, it would be far too embarrassing!
He leaned back slightly to avoid her hand. “When you need something, it is ‘Linyuan’ and ‘A-Zhou’—all sweet and affectionate. Once you get what you want, it is full name and sharp words.”
He carried her toward the inner room, the pearl curtain swaying and chiming softly behind them.
“Yi Yi, you are getting better and better at using people and then discarding them. I think… I shall have to punish you more thoroughly.”
Soon came the day they were to visit the Qiu residence.
Feng Yi wore a butter-yellow ruqun embroidered with winding branches and magnolia blossoms, with a light sheer half-sleeve draped over her shoulders, looking fresh and lovely. When Jiang Xingzhou stepped out in his own attire, Feng Yi could not help but stare.
To match her dress, he had also chosen butter-yellow—but paired with black trim instead of her ivory white. It gave him less of an airy grace and more of a steady, noble dignity. Standing side by side, their colors complemented each other perfectly, making them look unexpectedly well-matched.
“Yi Yi,” Jiang Xingzhou tapped her forehead lightly with his folding fan. “Wipe your drool.”
Feng Yi raised her hand instinctively, only to find her fingers dry. Realizing she had been tricked, she glared playfully. “Dare to tease me? You shall pay for this.”
Outside the Qiu residence, Qiu Yitang had been waiting, having calculated the time of their arrival. He was two years younger than Jiang Xingzhou. As boys, they had often been placed together by the great scholar Qiu, and Jiang Xingzhou had always looked out for him.
When the carriage of the Marquis of Jing’an came to a halt, Qiu Yitang stepped forward with a smile. “Little Uncle…”
His voice trailed off, and the smile froze on his face.
Jiang Xingzhou stepped out first, but did not descend fully. Instead, he turned back and drew the curtain aside, and a figure emerged gracefully. With a gentle smile and dimples appearing in her cheeks, it was the very woman whose image had lingered in his mind for days.
Once Feng Yi had stepped down, Jiang Xingzhou walked over to Qiu Yitang and clapped him on the shoulder in a familiar manner. “So you finally decided to return. Why did you not come to the residence to see me?”
“I have been searching for someone these past few days and did not have the chance. I hope Little Uncle will forgive me,” Qiu Yitang replied, his smile carrying a faint hint of bitterness.
“Did you find them? Do you need my help?”
Qiu Yitang’s eyes darted involuntarily toward Feng Yi before quickly returning to Jiang Xingzhou. “Yes… I have found them.”
Jiang Xingzhou assumed Qiu Yitang was wondering why he had brought a lady along. Taking Feng Yi’s hand, he introduced them.
“Yi Yi, this is Qiu Yitang, the third son of the Qiu family. His courtesy name is Huaiyuan.”
“Huaiyuan, this is my fiancée, Feng Yi.”
Qiu Yitang suppressed the ache in his heart and bowed respectfully, his bearing impeccable. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Feng.”
Feng Yi curtsied in return. “Master Qiu.” She added, “Thank you for your help that day.”
“You have met before?” Jiang Xingzhou’s expression turned instantly wary. He shifted half a step closer to Feng Yi, clearly claiming her as his own. Five years ago, Qiu Yitang had been traveling and studying far from the capital and had never met her. When he returned briefly, Feng Yi had already faked her own death—they should not have known each other.
With others, he could remain calm and composed. But with Qiu Yitang, he felt less secure.
The capital’s younger generation spoke of two outstanding men: Jiang Xingzhou and Qiu Yitang. If Qiu Yitang had not turned his back on officialdom, preferring instead to wander the mountains and rivers and devote himself to literature, his talent and character would surely have earned him a prominent place in the court.
Most importantly, Qiu Yitang embodied everything Feng Yi might have admired: a true gentleman, gentle as jade, open and bright. While Jiang Xingzhou appeared to be the same, it was merely a mask he had worn to deceive the world—and later used to draw her into his arms.
“We met a few days ago at the Golden and Jade Restaurant,” Feng Yi explained.
Jiang Xingzhou moved another step forward, placing himself half in front of her as a shield. “So that was it. Thank you for stepping in that day. You have always admired my black inkstone carved with the pattern of the horned dragon, have you not? I shall have it sent over to you tomorrow.”
He intended to give such a generous gift to put an end to any possibility of further private dealings between the two.