Including Cuihua, the Empress had five children in total—this was something Liu Qingzi had truthfully told Cuihua on the road to the capital.
Among them, Cuihua and the Grand Princess Li Yin shared the same father, both born to the Empress and her first male consort.
Unfortunately, their father had died young. It was precisely because of her beloved consort's untimely passing that the Empress, overcome with grief, had her milk suddenly dry up, leaving her no choice but to entrust the swaddled Second Princess Cuihua—only three months old—entirely to a wet nurse.
But that wet nurse, bewitched by greed, secretly swapped Cuihua with her own daughter to secure a lifetime of wealth for her child. To cover her tracks, she went all the way, passing Cuihua through multiple hands and sending her out of the palace, selling her to human traffickers.
Yet what mother in this world could fail to recognize her own flesh and blood?
The moment she held the "princess" in her arms, the Empress sensed this was not her daughter.
But by the time she traced the trail, it was too late. All she learned was that Cuihua had been resold several times, fallen ill along the way, and been casually abandoned by a final trafficker who had no idea of her true identity—her fate unknown.
Having lost both her consort and her second daughter in succession, the Empress was naturally consumed by grief and regret. But as sovereign of the realm, she eventually emerged from her mourning and took a new consort. The remaining three princes and princesses were all born to this succeeding male consort.
The Third Prince, Li Jing, was a male prince of sixteen. He had established his own household just last year and no longer resided in the palace, so Cuihua had not yet met him since her return.
The Fourth Princess, Li Chan, and the Fifth Princess, Li Yuan, were twin princesses of twelve. They showed no shyness toward Cuihua, and on the third day after her return to the palace, the Empress specially summoned these two younger sisters to meet her.
Having spent eighteen years adrift among the common folk, Cuihua could hardly be installed as heir apparent the moment she returned. The current Crown Princess of Liang was her full-blooded elder sister, Li Yin—though she had suddenly fallen ill half a year ago and was now recuperating in seclusion at Miaoyu Mountain in Qiongzhou.
Liu Qingzi had once said that she and her sister both resembled their mother the Empress. So Cuihua only froze for a moment before realizing that this elegant, handsome man before her must have mistaken her for her sister.
She hastily waved her hands, her gestures still carrying the straightforwardness of one raised among commoners: "Ah… no, I'm not…"
Having been in the palace for only seven days, she was not yet accustomed to conducting herself as a princess. When she tried to state her princess title, her words were tinged with awkwardness.
Fortunately, the man had also recovered his composure. A flicker of realization passed through his eyes, and he promptly bowed in salute: "Forgive my dull eyes—seeing your countenance so suddenly, I lost my composure for a moment. You are the Second Highness, are you not? Mistaking the Second Highness for the Crown Princess was an offense on my part."
Before Cuihua could press him further, he volunteered his identity: "I am Wei Jiangran, third son of Wei Xun, the Chancellor of the Secretariat. I am also… the consort of the Crown Princess. Since my marriage to Her Highness, I have resided with her in the Eastern Palace."
With this explanation, Cuihua realized that the palace grounds she currently occupied were actually her sister Li Yin's former residence from before she received her own establishment.
Two years ago, when her sister was elevated to Crown Princess, the Empress—doting on her daughter—decreed that the two residences be connected, since this one already adjoined the Eastern Palace. They were separated only by a narrow bamboo-lined lane. From then on, the Eastern Palace served as the main hall for the Crown Princess's daily life and governance, while this place became a side hall for leisure, rest, and receiving close ministers.
Cuihua had always assumed she lived in a standalone compound, simply because she had never imagined that such an imposing palace complex could be merely a side hall—nor that beyond the lush bamboo path beside the rear garden's rockery, there lay another hidden world.
The pavilion was built atop the rockery. Cuihua leaned against the railing and looked down, watching the bamboo shadows sway in the breeze, and could not help but marvel again at the vastness and grandeur of the palace.
She felt somewhat embarrassed and lowered her gaze, speaking softly: "I should be the one apologizing to my brother-in-law. Instead of resting indoors at this late hour, I came out here to enjoy the wind, and made you suddenly spot a figure at the end of the bamboo path—you must have thought a thief had gotten in…"
The bamboo path was only a dozen or so zhang long. With its winding, secluded charm, two people standing on level ground on either side would not easily see each other. But if one stood higher and the other lower, on such a bright moonlit night, wouldn't the figure in the pavilion be clearly visible?
Cuihua had not known that the other side was the Eastern Palace, nor that a brother-in-law resided there, so she had naturally never paid a visit. It was hardly Wei Jiangran who had offended her—rather, it was she who, in her ignorance, had disturbed his peace.
Wei Jiangran, however, showed not the slightest sign of reproach. He only said gently, "The Second Highness jests." Since this is the Eastern Palace's side hall, how could outsiders enter freely without the Empress's or the Crown Princess's permission?"
Cuihua supposed that was true and gave an awkward little laugh. As she looked up, she saw Wei Jiangran's gaze linger on her face for a brief moment before shifting away without a trace, a thin mist seeming to veil his eyes, as if he wished to speak but held back.
Cuihua was a married woman herself. Moments ago, she had been thinking of her frail husband under the moonlight. Seeing his expression, she understood at once—it must be that her resemblance to her sister had stirred his longing, and he too could not help but miss the sister recuperating far away in Qiongzhou.
Being both people who held someone dear in their hearts, she couldn't help but feel a sense of shared sympathy.
And so she no longer hurried to take her leave. Casually reaching up, she snapped a fresh branch still bearing buds from the crabapple tree by the railing. Her delicate fingertips moved nimbly, twisting a few times, and she had already loosely pinned up her cloud-like black hair. A few unruly strands still fell against the side of her neck, utterly carefree and languid in their defiance.
Wei Jiangran had been watching with warm, courteous composure, but his gaze inadvertently stilled as she raised her arm to tuck the flower into her hair. As that vivid splash of color sank into her raven locks, a faint ripple of admiration flickered through the depths of his eyes.
But he quickly masked the unusual glint in his gaze with a slight bow of his head. Yet when he looked up again, the courteous smile at the corners of his lips seemed to carry a shade more meaning than before.
Of course, Cuihua noticed none of this. Having finished pinning up her hair, she asked curiously, "Brother-in-law must have a very close relationship with my sister too, right?"
Wei Jiangran did not directly answer yes or no. He only curved his lips slightly, his faint smile as clear as moonlight: "Your servant was favored by the Crown Princess, who specially requested His Majesty to grant the marriage. It is naturally a blessing of three lifetimes. Yet your servant is unworthy of such imperial grace. Shortly after the Crown Princess and your servant were wed, she fell ill, and afterwards…"
His voice trailed off, the unfinished words dissolving into a sigh so soft it was nearly inaudible.
Cuihua understood the regret and sorrow within it, and couldn't help but sigh softly along with him. Speaking from the heart, she said, "Brother-in-law, don't say that. Since my sister went out of her way to ask Mother Empress to grant the marriage, she must have been truly fond of you. Sudden illness—who could have foreseen that? She surely wouldn't want to see you blaming yourself for it."
At her words, a faint glimmer seemed to stir in Wei Jiangran's eyes, and the gloom on his face lightened somewhat: "Though the Second Princess bears a resemblance to the Crown Princess in appearance, her temperament is entirely different."
Cuihua blinked and gave a charmingly naive smile: "Haha, I grew up among the common folk and barely know a few characters, so naturally I'm not as good at comforting people as my sister. Brother-in-law, you'll have to make do with what I say. My heart is in the right place, but I often can't say nice things properly—I just end up poking people right in their sore spots. That's what my husband said when I made him angry."
Wei Jiangran turned his head to look at her, his tone slightly hesitant: "…Husband?"
Only then did Cuihua realize she had let something slip. But on second thought, this wasn't Empress Mother, who demanded caution from Liu Qingzi. This man was also someone who worried about the one sleeping beside him. So she let her guard down and nodded frankly: "Mm, I got married outside the palace. My husband… his health isn't too good either. To be honest, the reason I came running here in the middle of the night to look at the moon is because I was thinking of him and couldn't sleep…"
She truly didn't know how to speak sweet words of love, yet she laid bare the simple, honest affection of a common girl without reservation.
And Wei Jiangran did not press further. He only murmured with feeling: "It is the Second Princess who has a truly fine marriage, where both hearts are deeply devoted to each other."
That one sentence made Cuihua's fondness for him grow several degrees more.
Because of Huai Che, she had always held those who were learned and educated in higher regard.
Moreover, along this journey, she had seen how people in the palace like Liu Qingzi treated Huai Che with disdain. Even if many of them gradually changed their views after spending time with him, Wei Jiangran was the only one who, from the very beginning, had never shown any prejudice because her husband came from common origins.
Returning courtesy for courtesy, she offered a small show of modesty: "I wouldn't call it deep devotion or anything like that. We were just a country couple before—we took a liking to each other, and neither of us minded the other's shortcomings. It certainly can't compare to you and my sister—anyone who looks at you two would say you're a perfect match of jade and gold."
Seeing Wei Jiangran give another bitter smile and sigh for reasons she couldn't quite grasp, Cuihua couldn't help but recall the storytellers' oft-repeated saying: "Seek only half-contentment in all things; how can life be anything but imperfect?"
The Crown Princess—gifted in both talent and beauty, deeply trusted by Mother Empress—and the young master of the Secretariat—distinguished in bearing and from a prestigious family—were precisely the kind of couple she would have once taken for a pair of divine immortals. Yet the true flavor of it, it seemed, only those within could know.
Though Cuihua had already been elevated to the rank of princess, her way of thinking still stubbornly clung to the habits she had formed in the countryside.
After hearing the story of her elder sister the Crown Princess and her brother-in-law, she had genuinely felt sad for this perfect pair.
But her body proved far more honest. After taking her leave of her brother-in-law and returning to her bedchamber, her head had barely touched the soft pillow before she sank into a deep sleep.
She must have stolen a shallow bit of comfort from the realization that someone else was suffering more in love than she and her husband were. The moment this thought occurred to her, she felt rather small-minded of herself, and knew she really shouldn't have.
This guilt climbed to new heights when, after spending a full eight days in the palace, Empress Mother finally allowed her to return to the Princess Residence.
The Empress seemed to feel that no amount of gifts could ever be enough for this long-lost pearl returned to her palm. This time, when Cuihua returned to her residence, she was showered with cartload after cartload of dazzling treasures.
What surprised Cuihua even more was that Wei Jiangran, her brother-in-law whom she had met only once, had also specially sent someone to deliver a gift.
With palace attendants surrounding her on all sides, Cuihua naturally couldn't open it on the spot the way she would have when accepting steamed buns and pickled vegetables from neighbors back in the countryside.
Seeing that the brocade box was not large, she took it and held it in her arms, then boarded the carriage back to her residence.
When the carriage arrived, a whole crowd of servants was already kneeling before the imposing Princess Residence, awaiting her return.
Cuihua, however, had no mind to memorize the dozens of unfamiliar faces and their respective duties. Her gaze swept past the old steward and landed precisely on Baodian behind him. She blurted out, "Where is my hus—… Huai Che? How has he been these past days while I was away? Any aches or pains? Has he been eating his meals on time without skipping a single one?"
She still remembered Liu Qingzi's admonition—once in the capital, when it came to her relationship with Huai Che, she needed to be cautious in word and deed, and it was best not to address him as "husband" in front of others.
After all, Huai Che had yet to receive the formal title of consort. If she continued to treat him as her rightful husband, it would only invite trouble and gossip for the both of them.
What she didn't know was that this unguarded display of concern alone was enough to make the household staff secretly congratulate themselves for having heeded Baodian's and the guards' earlier words—that they had not truly treated Huai Che as a servant of the same standing as themselves.
Naturally, this was also thanks to the fact that the gentleman did possess considerable capability.
Although Baodian and the others had accompanied Cuihua all the way back to the capital, they had arrived later and still felt somewhat distant from the original household members who had already settled into their routines.
Yet before the old steward could trouble himself with mediating, Huai Che had already replicated his earlier approach—quietly and unobtrusively winning over the household servants.
It was frankly baffling. His legs were disabled and movement was difficult, yet not a single person who came into contact with him could find a single fault to speak of.
As such, Baodian and the others, who had already instinctively regarded him as their pillar of support upon their arrival, smoothly rode on his coattails to quickly grow familiar with everyone and resume their respective duties.
Later, wave after wave of the Empress's rewards arrived at the mansion—so varied in kind and vast in quantity that even the old steward found himself fretting over the mountain of inventory ledgers. Again it was Huai Che who extended a helping hand without leaving a trace, managing everything in perfect order while showing no sign of stealing credit.
It was then that the old steward understood: this gentleman was affable yet not worldly, meticulous yet not rigid, sharp-minded and attuned to the times. He was by no means someone who relied merely on his looks or past affections to bind himself to nobility.
Even if he came from humble origins and had crippled legs, his standing in this household would never be low. And so, starting with the old steward, everyone from top to bottom now respectfully addressed him as "Master Huai."
Baodian led Cuihua toward Huai Che's quarters while reporting in a low voice: "Princess, this servant believes Master Huai's health is largely fine. He hasn't mentioned any discomfort, and his appetite… has been more or less normal."
Cuihua nodded, understanding in her heart.
Huai Che's legs were disabled, yet he went to great lengths to be as self-sufficient as possible—not only because he didn't want to burden others, but because he was, at his core, a man of immense pride who would never allow himself to become a helpless invalid requiring assistance with even the most basic needs.
That was why, as soon as his wounds had healed, he'd asked her to help him fashion splints and crutches. Even though he'd fallen countless times while relearning every simple task, and even now his skin was often chafed raw by the splints.
He would barely hold himself together even in front of her—so when she wasn't there, how could he ever show his vulnerable side to others?
She had no intention of blaming Baodian and the others for inadequate care. She simply paused before Huai Che's door, turned around, and quietly instructed: "Prepare an especially generous dinner and bring it directly to my husband's quarters. I'll dine with him."
Baodian acknowledged and withdrew, and Cuihua waited until the sound of footsteps faded at the end of the corridor before pushing the door open.
The moment the door swung wide, the princess who had just barely maintained her dignified bearing instantly reverted to her true self—just as in the old days when she'd return from the market carrying the scent of everyday life, darting joyfully like a bird returning to its nest toward the figure seated by the window.
The young woman's slender arms wrapped tightly around the man's lean waist, her cheek nuzzling against him again and again, her voice steeped in honeyed longing: "Husband!"
"Husband." Her voice was muffled, petulant and pleading. "I missed you so much!"
Eight full days apart—whether it was a maiden's yearning or a head full of stories to tell, she had so much she wanted to say to him.
She lingered in his embrace for a long while, until her fingertips brushed against his increasingly prominent spine. Her delicate brows knit together: "You feel thinner again. You haven't been eating properly, have you?"
She asked knowing full well the answer, insisting on hearing him admit it himself, so that he would know—she was worried for him.
Huai Che's long fingers trembled almost imperceptibly, then tightened around the warm, soft body in his arms.
She had been in the palace for eight days. Though the endless rewards showed the Empress's favor, within those nine-tiered palace walls, hearts were hidden behind veils. He knew better than anyone the treacherous currents beneath the surface—how could he not have spent every day and night anxious for her, unable to eat or rest in peace?
Huai Che deliberately steered the conversation elsewhere, his gaze falling on the brocade box she had casually set on the desk. His voice was slightly hoarse: "Is this also a gift from Her Majesty the Empress? You carried it all the way here in your hands—does it hold special meaning for you?"
His reminder made Cuihua realize she had inadvertently brought in the gift from Wei Jiangran as well.
Speaking of her elder sister and brother-in-law, she had quite a few mixed feelings. It wasn't that she intended to use another couple's misfortune to highlight her own happiness—she wasn't that kind of person!
In front of Huai Che, she had no desire to maintain any pretense of dignity or reserve. Seeing him ask, she reached over, took the brocade box, and opened it directly: "This isn't from Mother Empress—it's from my brother-in-law. Husband, let me tell you, my elder sister, the Crown Princess, has also married now. Her consort is the son of the Chancellor, and he's quite handsome…"
As she spoke, the lid of the box sprang open.
There, resting quietly on the velvet lining inside, lay a hibiscus jade hairpin. The jade was translucent, a soft, elegant pinkish-purple, and the carved flower at the head naturally bore cloudy, mist-like veining, as if real petals were unfurling—exquisitely crafted beyond compare.
What young woman wouldn't adore something so delicate and lovely?
Even though Cuihua knew that the treasures bestowed by her mother, the Empress, likely included similar pieces, she still couldn't bear to put the jade hairpin down as she held it between her fingers.
She lowered her head, admiring it with a smile curling at her lips, but when she looked up, she unexpectedly met Huai Che's suddenly ashen face.
Beside the hairpin lay a neatly folded sheet of gold-flecked paper, bearing a line of elegant ink calligraphy in characters Cuihua didn't recognize at all:
The flowered pin slants, mirroring the hues of spring hills—
Outshining peach and plum that borrow the moon's glow.