The Empress would never keep fools by her side, and the maidservants were equally clear-sighted.
Since Liu Qingzi had already nodded in agreement to allow Huai Che to travel back to the capital with them, this man would eventually be entering the princess's household in the future.
Whether as a bed companion or a personal attendant, he was ultimately a servant meant to serve their mistress. Since she wished to win her mistress's favor, there was naturally no reason to make an enemy of someone who could whisper words into the princess's ear.
Though Cuihua could not yet see through the subtle schemes in these people's hearts, when she noticed that Liu Qingzi, using the convenience of speech after passing through the border as an excuse, had instructed the station master to prepare a more spacious and comfortable carriage for Huai Che, joy still rippled across her brow and the corners of her eyes.
Especially when she discovered that whenever she tried to quietly grow closer to Huai Che, neither the maidservants nor Liu Qingzi's guards blocked her as openly or covertly as before, nor diverted the conversation elsewhere—the smile in her clear, dark eyes became even more evident.
Huai Che, still leaving room for goodwill, did not expose that the so-called "breach of royal protocol" was merely a pretext he had conjured offhand under Liu Qingzi's pressure.
Cuihua, however, took the initiative to express herself to Liu Qingzi: "Rest assured, Lady Liu, my husband and I will not do anything too improper to cause you trouble. It's just that his leg ailment is severe and he has difficulty moving about, so I simply wish to keep him company more often."
She began deliberately and casually extending goodwill toward Liu Qingzi and the other female officials, as well as the attendant maidservant Baodian.
Though she could not yet fathom the deeper workings behind their words and actions, after days of getting along with them, she had vaguely sensed what kind of attitude they hoped she would adopt toward them.
One day during a rest stop along the journey, she quietly climbed into Huai Che's carriage again, leaned close to him, and whispered with childish pride: "I've figured it all out—they're all hoping to win my favor, and they're dying to be closer to me."
Huai Che lifted his eyes lazily, and what met his gaze was the young woman's expression of "please praise me." A flicker of complexity passed through his eyes.
After a moment's hesitation, he finally gave only a gentle, shallow nod: "You are the princess—their mistress. What good would it do them to oppose you?"
Cuihua took the coaxing indulgence in his words entirely as praise, straightening her back proudly, her full bosom rising and falling slightly with the movement: "So I must be clear in rewarding and punishing. Whoever treats you well, I'll reciprocate by being close to them. Whoever bullies you, I'll never give them a kind look."
Huai Che felt his temple twitch slightly at her words. The admonishing advice hovered on his lips, turned once, and was ultimately swallowed back down.
He thought to himself that all things required gradual progress, and letting her learn through slow immersion was one reason—but more so, his gaze was involuntarily drawn by the trembling at her chest, and he simply could not bear to dampen her spirits.
As the carriage entered the territory of Liang, the roads became flat and broad, and local officials who had received word took turns escorting them along the way. Liu Qingzi chose official highways to lead them forward.
This allowed Cuihua, who had never even left her own town before, to truly witness what bustling prosperity meant. At every stop, she could not help but lift the curtain to gaze out, marveling at the rows of pavilions and towers that met her eyes, and the clamor of the marketplaces.
Yuan and Liang together divided the Central Plains. Yuan occupied the north, with its high plateaus and open plains, four distinct seasons, and fertile soil—its people were rooted in agriculture, mostly devoted to farming. The southern land of Liang was crisscrossed with waterways and blessed with a mild, moist climate.
Yet though the natural landscapes differed, what truly determined the people's livelihood was the wisdom and diligence of the sovereign who ruled them.
Cuihua had long heard that the lands of Liang under the Empress's rule were prosperous. Having now seen it with her own eyes, and learning that this wise and brilliant monarch was her own mother, a surge of proud joy welled up in her heart.
This pride gave rise to curiosity, and she began to occasionally ask Liu Qingzi and Baodian about matters concerning her imperial mother.
Like the contented citizens of Liang, they spoke of the Empress with genuine reverence from the depths of their hearts.
The Empress had shown Liu Qingzi great favor. As a child, Liu Qingzi had been implicated by her maternal grandfather's grave crimes and, along with her mother, was consigned to the palace as a bondservant. It was the Empress who, seeing her intelligence, not only freed her and her mother from their lowly status but also kept her close and entrusted her with important duties.
Liu Qingzi said: "Her Majesty the Empress is diligent in governance for the people, skilled in recognizing talent and delegating authority, and balances leniency with severity. That Great Liang has Her Majesty is a blessing of the nation's fortune. That we servants are able to attend upon Her Majesty is the greatest honor of our lives."
Cuihua tilted her face up and gave a very supportive "wow," her eyes sparkling with admiration.
The characters she recognized could be counted on two hands, and she hadn't really understood those refined idioms, but she knew they were all good words praising her mother, so they warmed her heart with sweetness.
Unlike Liu Qingzi, the maidservant Baodian—who knew only slightly more characters than Cuihua—answered more plainly, and her words soothed Cuihua's heart even better: "The princess looks extremely like Her Majesty the Empress."
Baodian's words were by no means flattery.
Apart from the shape of her brows and the contours of her ears, which resembled her birth father, Cuihua's features were practically a replica of the Empress.
She even bore a stronger resemblance than the Eldest Princess, who was already said to look very much like the Empress. It was precisely for this reason that Liu Qingzi and the others had almost immediately confirmed her identity upon first seeing her—she was their Second Princess, who had been lost among the common folk.
Cuihua curved her vermilion lips in delight.
She did not yet understand that imperial parents always favored the child who resembled them more. She only knew that the closer they drew to the imperial city, the stronger her sense of "having a mother" became.
Being told she resembled her mother was the highest praise she could receive.
Her spirits lifted, and she chatted more freely with Baodian.
Plucking a translucent, peeled longan from the brocade box beside her, she opened up about her childhood in a small town in Yuan: "Actually, in the early years, Yuan was quite peaceful—light taxes, few bandits, and the western tribes kept to themselves. Our town nestled between mountains and a river; life wasn't wealthy, but the people lived contentedly."
Baodian interjected, "It's just that the people of Great Yuan were unlucky. Prince Xuan had nearly cleaned up the mess his brother left behind, and he'd kept the young emperor under his thumb for ten years, but he just couldn't clinch that final step to the throne."
Seeing that her princess was interested in these royal secrets that were once off-limits to discuss, Baodian continued while deftly peeling another fruit.
Since they were now in Liang, tales of the neighboring kingdom were fair game even for common folk to gossip about.
Throughout history, usurpers had often been vilified, but Prince Xuan, who had ruled as regent for ten years in Yuan, was an exception.
After all, his elder brother had favored harsh officials and craved glory, staging three extravagant and costly imperial sacrifices during his reign. His nephew, in turn, was timid by nature and mediocre in ability. It was only during Prince Xuan's decade of governance that the people could finally catch their breath.
In the eyes of the common folk, legitimacy and titles mattered far less than prosperity and well-being.
Baodian said, "Your Highness may not know, but the young emperor is even more absurd than his father. Just around the time we set out to find you, he issued a decree posthumously honoring Prince Xuan as emperor."
Cuihua was stunned, her almond-shaped eyes wide: "But wasn't Prince Xuan posthumously condemned for treason when he died two years ago?"
Wasn't the emperor's word supposed to be as unchangeable as gold?
Besides, even though she didn't understand royal protocol, she'd never heard—even in the storytellers' exaggerated tales—of an emperor's title being granted posthumously.
Baodian chuckled with a hint of mockery: "That's why I say he's absurd. Without Prince Xuan's deterrence, he's dealt with the western tribes by ceding territory and paying reparations. Meanwhile, uprisings keep breaking out at home, all under the banner of avenging the loyal minister wrongly killed and rehabilitating Prince Xuan."
Cuihua was speechless for a moment before stammering, "But what's the point of giving Prince Xuan a posthumous emperor title? Does he think that if he slaps his own face fast enough, no one else's slap will land?"
Baodian was equally at a loss: "Perhaps he thinks Prince Xuan's legitimacy is more useful than his own father's, both domestically and abroad. Afraid people wouldn't make the connection, he even took the sound from Prince Xuan's title and posthumously named him Emperor Yuanxuan."
On the seventh day of the seventh month, they arrived in E Province, just in time for Liang's Qixi Festival.
According to Liang tradition, this day was one that daughters held in especially high regard.
E Province was the most prosperous region in Liang after the capital Xiangjing, and festivals naturally brought great bustle and excitement.
Celebrations were held both in the city and its outskirts. Even in a hurry to travel, they couldn't cover much distance that day, so Liu Qingzi consulted Cuihua and decided to enter the city and rest in the afternoon.
Cuihua was eager for all the festive excitement, and a half-day's rest would let them catch the liveliest night market and lantern fair.
With local officials attending to their needs along the way, Cuihua now cut the figure of a wealthy young lady even without declaring her princess identity.
She was naturally beautiful—years of toiling in the fields and markets under sun and wind hadn't darkened her skin, and coarse cloth and wooden hairpins couldn't dim her radiance. Now draped in silk and adorned with pearls and jade, she was like a pearl wiped clean of dust, a golden branch returned to its nest—every inch the noble lady, with not a trace of the farm girl left.
Liu Qingzi personally selected two sharp-witted female guards, dressed as maidservants, to accompany Baodian at her side.
E Province had simple customs and good public order, so this arrangement was more than enough to keep her safe.
The night market was bright as day, with crowds flowing like a river.
Cuihua wandered along, stopping here and there, finding everything novel. She bought whatever caught her fancy, enjoying the festival with a freedom she'd never known.
But she hadn't forgotten her husband's instructions before leaving. Passing a timber shop, she noticed its display wasn't decorated to attract young women like the other stores, yet she stepped inside anyway.
The shopkeeper was a young man in his early thirties, apparently annoyed that his wife had taken the children out for the festival while leaving him to mind the store. He was complaining to his shop boy.
"My wife's got her head stuck in money—who comes to pick out timber on a day like this? She insists on keeping me here." The young man sighed as he spoke. "And she dresses herself up like a young girl, not worried some young fellow might slip her a sachet…"
Commerce flourished in Liang, and customs were open. It was common for young men and women to express their feelings quite directly.
On Qixi night, giving a sachet to someone you admired was a common way to convey affection.
Cuihua stood out with her striking beauty, and her journey had drawn plenty of glances from young men.
But her luxurious attire and the imposing bearing of the "maidservants" behind her deterred most. The occasional bold one would retreat awkwardly after a cold glare from the female guards.
Hearing the shopkeeper's complaints, Cuihua seemed struck by a thought. After a moment's reflection, she walked to the counter and bent down to examine the timber.
Bao Dian was slightly surprised, privately thinking that the princess still had an interest in such things. She said softly, "If you like wooden items, miss, you could first select the materials, and once we return to the capital, I will find some skilled craftsmen to make them for you."
Since it was inconvenient to refer to herself as "this servant" while out, she had also changed her address of Cuihua to "miss."
Cuihua shook her head, however. "Aside from making tofu, I'm also fairly good at polishing small trinkets from wood. I want to make a loving comb for Mother."
In the past, her way of showing filial piety to her father had been simple and plain—nothing more than working harder and earning more money, then going to town to buy him good food and drink.
But her mother, the Empress, had seen and tasted every delicacy imaginable. Even the silver she had spent along the journey had been approved by the Empress herself. Thus, she had been reluctant to show off her meager skills before an expert, using her mother's money to prepare some tribute gift.
Rather, it was her husband's words that had reminded her—while the Empress certainly lacked nothing, she had never received something made by her daughter's own hands.
In the end, what she gave didn't matter; what mattered was the sentiment behind it.
The Empress had never given up searching for her for eighteen years, and must have often missed her. Now that she was welcoming her daughter back to the palace, she was likely uneasy, fearing that the daughter lost for so many years might not be close to her.
If she made something by hand to express her feelings and comfort her mother, how could that not delight the Empress?
Cuihua had immediately understood when she heard this: "I get it! But I wonder if there's a millstone in the palace. If there is, I'll give Mother a live demonstration of pushing the stone mill with bare hands and curdling tofu with brine!"
In response, she saw her husband grind his back teeth. "…I think you look like tofu, and your whole family looks like tofu."
Her husband's temperament had always been extremely good—a gentle, refined man who was almost completely obedient to her.
At times when she pestered him to the point of helplessness, he would at most, with a hint of sarcastic irritation, mutter a single line to himself, unlike the lumber shop owner who would voice his complaints to her directly.
On the way back, Cuihua deliberately detoured to the qiaoguo stall she had tried before, having Bao Dian and the two female guards wait nearby.
She bought two kinds of fillings—peanut with brown sugar and sesame with jujube—and asked the stall owner to wrap them in two extra layers of oil paper, planning to bring them back for her husband.
She thought: the lumber shop owner had only been left by his wife for one night and had already accumulated a bellyful of complaints, while her husband, hindered by his leg condition, could only wait alone in his room whenever she went out. He was surely even more prone to feeling gloomy.
Where she was able, she was willing to put in some effort to coax him into being a bit happier.
Liu Qingzi, Bao Dian, and the others had long grown accustomed to her thoughtfulness toward Huai Che and had already silently approved.
So when she returned to the E region government office, she went straight to Huai Che's room.
He was indeed waiting for her—not in bed, and the splints on his legs had not been removed. He must have just washed his face, as the hair at his temples still carried traces of damp moisture.
Although his leg condition was severe and walking a dozen or so steps with the aid of splints and crutches was his limit, he rarely relied on others for help in daily life. His ability to take care of himself even astonished Liu Qingzi and the others.
Of course, this was also thanks to the two years he and Cuihua had spent together in poverty—they couldn't have afforded to hire anyone for meticulous care anyway.
Cuihua walked to the window and partially closed the wide-open casement, saying softly, "For Qiqiao Festival, you're supposed to eat qiaoguo. I tasted them all and brought you the two best fillings."
Huai Che glanced indifferently at the oil-paper package on the table. "I've already rinsed my mouth."
The implication was that he had no intention of eating anything more.
In fact, he should have been just as unaccustomed to wealth as Cuihua, yet even now, when presented with all sorts of exquisite food and drink, he still showed little interest—which further astonished Liu Qingzi and the others.
Cuihua raised her delicate brows, refusing to let him have his way. "Then just have half a piece of each, and rinse your mouth again afterward."
Huai Che didn't move, but suddenly something flickered before his eyes. Focusing his gaze, he saw his young wife's slender, fair, and lustrous fingertips holding a sachet, gently swaying it three steps away from him as if to lure him.
The girl's voice was soft as if laced with honey, the corners of her eyes tinged with the warm glow of candlelight, coaxing him step by step: "I brought you a gift too. It's a Qiqiao Festival custom—a young woman gives a sachet to the man she fancies. The Empress Mother treasures my feelings; won't you treasure them too? Only when you eat to my satisfaction will I give it to you."
Huai Che still didn't move, his deep eyes fixed on her, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "If I don't eat, then the token of your feelings for your beloved isn't mine?"
He clearly knew his young wife very well—even if she sulked and refused to give it today, within no more than three days, she would find some excuse to stuff the sachet back to him.
But having taken him in as a live-in husband for two years, how could Cuihua not know him just as well?
She wasn't anxious in the slightest. Her red lips curved slightly, and she leisurely tucked the sachet down the front of her garment, into the full, soft valley of her bosom. Lifting her face, her eyes carried unguarded cunning and provocation: "Oh, so tonight… you won't be in a hurry for it?"
Huai Che: "…"
With a barely perceptible catch in his breath, his gaze swept over the porcelain-smooth skin of her neck and the faint glimpse of the embroidered sachet's color, his Adam's apple shifting slightly.
After a moment of stalemate, he finally conceded defeat, his long fingers reaching for the still-warm oil-paper package on the table.
A man who had died once could abandon even the life he had scraped back at any moment—yet she alone was the one attachment he could never bring himself to let go.
July 11th, the End of Heat.
The carriage finally arrived at Xiangjing, and Princess Li Shu, who had been living among the common folk for eighteen years, officially returned to the court.