The barren lands welcomed spring, with grass growing and orioles flying. Early-blooming mountain cherries quietly blossomed in the corners.
As the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet drew nearer, Nan Shu felt increasingly tense, as if something were pressing on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
She could only write the “Heart-Cleansing Sutra” over and over, forcing herself to calm down.
The rear courtyard of Yu Tang Hall connected to Fahua Hall through a bamboo grove. Nan Shu preferred copying scriptures in the pavilion within the bamboo forest—it was secluded and free from disturbances.
With only ten days left until the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet, she felt both anticipation and worry. Yet, overthinking was futile; she could only seek momentary peace by copying scriptures day and night.
One day, as Nan Shu was copying scriptures in the grove as usual, she faintly heard what seemed like a cat’s meow.
Nan Shu’s ears twitched.
She set down her brush and followed the sound, spotting Mian Mian in the grass not far away.
“Meow~” Mian Mian was thrilled to see her, running over to rub against her calves.
After ensuring no one had followed, Nan Shu crouched down to pet it: “Mian Mian, how have you grown chubbier again?”
Mian Mian rolled onto its back, squinting contentedly as she stroked its belly.
“Stupid Mian Mian, why did you go down without me?”
Suddenly, a childish voice came from above. Nan Shu looked up to see something rustling in the leaves, followed by a small head popping out.
The little head turned left and right, then looked down and spotted Mian Mian. Her cheeks puffed up in anger as she glared at the cat.
Nan Shu’s mind went blank for a moment, and instantly, her eyes reddened.
Since her rebirth, she had avoided thinking too much about Sui An, fearing that if she did, she would be reluctant to leave.
It was enough to know her Sui Sui was safe. As a princess, as long as Yan Pingxiao held even a sliver of guilt toward her, he would not mistreat her.
Sui An clung tightly to the branch, murmuring softly:
“Am I dreaming?”
Nan Shu’s gaze grew distant, nearly losing control of her expression. But seeing the swaying branch, her tone turned urgent: “Your Highness, please come down at once!”
Sui An emerged from the leaves and slowly climbed down the trunk, a few green leaves still clinging to her. Fearful she might fall, Nan Shu stretched out her arms beneath the tree, ready to catch her.
As Sui An descended, her foot slipped. Nan Shu’s heart leaped into her throat. Fortunately, the height was low, and she managed to catch the small figure in time. Before she could react, Sui An blinked her large eyes and asked, “Who are you?”
Holding her Sui Sui for the first time, Nan Shu felt flustered. She was reluctant to let go, especially with the little cat rubbing against her legs—both the child and the cat clung to her.
Nan Shu closed her eyes, holding back tears, and struggled to articulate each word: “Your Highness, I am Consort Rong’s cousin.”
Sui An studied her for a long while, seeming confused. Wasn’t she her mother?
After a long pause, Sui An slowly lowered her head, her expression filled with disappointment.
She had forgotten again—her mother was already gone.
Nan Shu quickly crouched to set her on the ground, reaching for a handkerchief to wipe her face: “Your Highness, don’t cry. Did you hurt yourself?”
Sui An shook her head, gazing at her with a pitiful look. She smelled so familiar, just like her mother in her dreams.
“Aren’t you my mother?”
Seeing her, Sui An felt a natural closeness, to the extent that even Mian Mian, who never allowed strangers near, rolled over to expose its belly in her presence.
Nan Shu felt somewhat reluctant, but still denied it: “Your Highness, this subject is only sixteen this year and has yet to marry.”
Sui An pointed to the kitten nearby: “But Mian Mian sees you as its mother too.”
“You resemble Mother,” Sui An lowered her head, her round eyes beginning to redden.
Nan Shu turned away, brushing her fingertip past the corner of her eye to wipe away a trace of moisture.
She felt deeply selfish.
Yet she couldn’t reveal herself to Sui Sui. No one would believe that someone dead for five years could return to life. Even if they did, what would Yan Pingxiao think when facing her resurrected self?
Her death would erase all her flaws with time. He would compensate his guilt toward her by showering Sui Sui with affection.
But her living presence would serve as a constant reminder of his past failures, a thorn piercing his heart.
By then, her Sui Sui might lose everything she now possessed because of her.
Thus, she couldn’t acknowledge her.
“Your Highness! Your Highness, where are you?!”
Suddenly, an anxious voice interrupted Nan Shu’s thoughts. Within moments, a clear-featured young eunuch appeared.
Yuanbao exclaimed: “Your Highness, why did you come here?”
He breathed a sigh of relief, but when his peripheral glance caught Nan Shu, his breath caught in his chest, nearly making him faint.
Nan Shu: …
Never mind, she had grown accustomed to being mistaken for a ghost.
Yuanbao instinctively hugged Sui An and stepped back, eyeing her warily.
Nan Shu had no choice but to rise and say: “Esteemed Eunuch, I am Consort Rong’s cousin. I happened upon Her Highness by chance and hope she will not take offense.”
Though Yuanbao had never seen the late empress, both His Majesty and Her Highness had painted her portrait. How could he not recognize the late empress’s appearance?
“You… you…” He was too shocked to form words.
Nan Shu paid him no further mind, addressing the young princess instead: “Your Highness, this subject takes her leave.”
She wanted to depart, but Sui An anxiously blocked her path, refusing to move aside.
Nan Shu bent down to wipe her tears, speaking softly: “Your Highness mustn’t cry, take care your eyes don’t suffer.”
As these words fell, the small feet standing on the grass finally shifted aside slowly.
Watching the woman’s receding figure, Yuanbao rubbed his eyes vigorously: “Your Highness, that person…”
“Why does she look so much like Mother?”
Sui An was deeply despondent. Standing there, her small frame appeared even more forlorn.
Yuanbao sometimes struggled to understand Sui An’s attachment to the late empress.
The late empress had passed away shortly after Sui An’s birth – what could a child not yet full moon possibly remember? By all accounts, the princess and late empress had never truly met.
Yet over the years, Her Highness had maintained formal distance from others in the rear palace, showing not even particular reverence toward His Majesty, remembering only her mother.
Yuanbao, pondering this, voiced his question.
But Sui An responded: “Who says we never met?”
“Mother carried me for ten months. I spent ten months day and night with Mother before I was even born.”
She spoke with utmost seriousness: “Chunming Gugu said I was born through Mother’s life-and-death struggle. That I live in this world is Mother’s gift to me.”