At noon, snowflakes began to drift over the Forbidden City once more.
A blanket of white covered the crimson palace walls and glazed tiles, while maids and eunuchs hurried along the palace corridors like ants tracing their paths.
“Is Third Brother returning at this hour?” Anning asked, tugging at her maid Talu’s hand as she walked out.
She was bundled up like a little piglet, her thick fur-trimmed cloak a vivid red wrapped around her fair, delicate face, making her look like a flower bud about to bloom amidst the bitter snow.
Talu moved with great care, terrified that her young mistress might slip on the frozen ground: “To answer Your Highness, at this hour, Third Prince should have already passed through the Hall of Mental Cultivation and be on his way here.”
Third Prince attended his studies at the Maoqin Hall every day, and tomorrow was his day of rest, so he would return at noon today.
Anning had lived in the palace for over four months now. No one asked anything of her—she spent her days eating, drinking, and playing, which left her rather bewildered.
Now that Third Prince was finally returning early, she eagerly went out to greet him.
Just as she stepped through the palace gate, she ran straight into Third Prince and his entourage.
Both parties were walking in haste.
The eunuch failed to dodge in time, and the oil-paper umbrella tilted half an inch.
Anning was slow to react. Only when she heard the thud of someone kneeling and the sound of kowtowing and begging for mercy did she realize that a thin layer of snow from the umbrella had scattered over her head. Talu was terrified and kept brushing the snow from her hair.
“I’m fine, really,” Anning said, shaking her head. “You may rise.”
The eunuch trembled like a leaf in the wind, stealing a fearful glance at Third Prince behind him.
Third Prince was of average stature, wearing a stone-blue cloak, his fair complexion rivaling the snow itself. When Princess Hesheri’s figure appeared at the corner, he turned his head to look at her.
For now, though, his expression was impassive, revealing nothing—he did not seem about to punish him.
The eunuch breathed a sigh of relief and bowed as he retreated to the back.
Only after Talu had brushed away all the light snow did Third Prince speak, his tone odd: “Why did you come out?”
“I came to meet you,” Anning said, her voice cheerful as she walked close beside him. At home, when she was this obedient, she was always praised.
Third Prince’s eyelashes held a thin layer of snow, and he himself seemed as cold as a snowflake: “No need next time.”
Anning’s little face fell at once. “…Oh.”
When they entered Cining Palace, the palace attendants’ joyful cries rang out: “The Prince and the Princess are back! Just in time—Her Majesty asked the imperial kitchen a moment ago and ordered the crucian carp stewed with tofu that the Prince loves. The venison has just finished roasting and is still sizzling with fat!”
At the mention of roasted venison, Anning’s eyes lit up, and she scurried inside with glee.
The thick curtain was lifted, and the warmth of the hall rushed to meet her.
The Empress Dowager was just instructing the servants to set the table, with her personal maid Sumalagu standing at her side.
Anning performed a proper bow, then tried to make her way toward the dining table, but was firmly pulled over to warm herself by the fire, much to her frustration.
Once her body was warm, Talu swiftly stripped Anning down to a tiny little thing.
The floor heating in this room burned fiercely, so a small jacket and trousers embroidered with delicate flower petals were enough, topped with a brocade pipa-front vest that made her look small and frail.
Her attire was simple, and so was her hair—she was still young, so she wore only double buns adorned with a few pearl flowers and two little bell hairpins that jingled crisply as she walked.
Third Prince was also warming himself by the fire. He let his gaze drift away from the little girl’s eager face, which kept glancing toward the dining table, and turned to look at Gu Wenxing, signaling toward the hall outside.
Gu Wenxing understood, bowed his head, and quietly stepped out of the main hall.
When the two children had warmed themselves thoroughly, the Empress Dowager set aside her work and called them over to eat.
She doted on Third Prince, pulling him into her arms first to ask what he had learned that day and how much he had gained.
Third Prince answered methodically, recounting everything.
The content of their conversation was utterly dull to Anning, so she began to daydream.
Third Prince was diligent and studious. Though cold in temperament and sparing with words, he was not shy or withdrawn. Everyone assumed his disposition had been shaped outside the palace and saw no harm in it—though it made the Empress Dowager feel for him.
She held his hand and spoke with him for quite some time before remembering that Princess Hesheri was still sitting alone.
The Empress Dowager smiled and beckoned, “Anning.”
Anning snapped back to attention and obediently nestled close.
“I heard you went out to meet Xuanye?” She touched Anning’s fair little face and deliberately put on a stern expression. “You mustn’t do that again. The snow outside is so heavy—you got a head full of it, didn’t you? He’s healthy and strong, but you were born frail.”
Anning had plenty to say. “The palace corridors outside are so long, as if they’ll never end. I even got lost when I first entered the palace. I thought that if Third Brother saw me, he’d know he was almost home.” She had walked so hard herself that she assumed others felt the same.
Having found her opportunity at last, she quickly pleaded coquettishly: “Empress Dowager, please don’t punish that eunuch. He only had Third Brother in mind—he was so worried about him slipping or catching cold that he didn’t notice me.”
At her words, Third Prince’s brow furrowed deeply, and his thin lips pressed together.
The Empress Dowager took in her grandson’s expression, and though she found it amusing, she also felt a measure of comfort.
She had just heard that her grandson had punished a eunuch, and that Gu Wenxing had had the man taken away.
Unexpectedly, she had barely stepped through the door and warmed herself up when Anning wanted to plead for mercy on behalf of that eunuch. She was clever indeed, knowing full well whose words carried the most weight in Cining Palace. She was also kind-hearted and thoughtful, always considering others.
After a moment of reflection, the Empress Dowager pointed at her and laughed, saying to Sumalagu, “Look, look, so many arguments. If I don’t go along with her wishes, what will become of things?” After laughing, she gestured toward the entrance of the hall, and a palace attendant immediately went out.
Sumalagu covered her mouth and chuckled, “Our young lady has such a kind heart—no one can compare.”
“The bell hairpin the young lady wears was personally blessed by Your Majesty at Baohua Temple. It’s the best for warding off evil, preventing illness, and praying for blessings. With Your Majesty’s goodwill, a light snowfall is no trouble at all.”
Anning touched her bell hairpin and grinned cheerfully, “I wear it every single day!”
The hall was filled with laughter and joy.
They shared a meal together, and the Empress Dowager accompanied the Third Prince in reading for a while before instructing the servants to take the two children to the warm pavilion for their afternoon nap.
Anning was fond of milk tea, especially when honey was added to make it even more delicious. After taking two sips and finding it delightful, she raised her cup and offered it to the Third Prince to drink as well.
“Not drinking.” The Third Prince didn’t even lift his head, his tone exceptionally cold, tinged with a faint trace of suppressed irritation.
Fine, if he wouldn’t drink, she’d drink it herself.
Anning carelessly kicked off her shoes, struggled to climb onto the small couch, and happily leaned over the kang table to continue drinking her milk tea.
After taking a sip, she turned her head and noticed he was reading again, seemingly with no intention of resting.
She quickly reminded him, afraid he might forget, “The Empress Dowager said we should take our afternoon nap.”
The Third Prince continued reading: “If you’re sleepy, then sleep.”
Anning felt awkward: “…” Was a book really that enjoyable to read? He couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away even for a moment. She certainly couldn’t do that.
After gulping down two big mouthfuls, she rolled onto the small couch and pulled a soft blanket over herself.
Perhaps because she’d drunk the milk, she soon grew drowsy after lying down.
Just as she was on the verge of sleep, she vaguely sensed someone staring at her with a quiet, brooding gaze.
Outside the window, snowflakes drifted down again, pressing against the eaves and making them creak. The heated floor in the room burned vigorously, and before long, her little face was flushed red from the warmth.
Anning had a dream.
She dreamed of the day she first entered the palace. Her mother had reminded her all the way about the strict palace rules, telling her not to act like a child and offend the noble ladies, and not to talk too much—she should be cautious in speech and conduct, and not disgrace the Hesheri family name.
She hadn’t fully understood, and her mother had sighed, stroking her little face as tears rolled down, crying over her bad luck and how she would suffer for the rest of her life.
She’d been frightened by those words, feeling lost and anxious, but seeing her mother cry, she didn’t dare make a fuss about not entering the palace.
When she arrived at Cining Palace, she didn’t recognize a single person. Many people surrounded her asking questions, and before long, a servant led her to the warm pavilion to wait.
The servant said he’d go fetch her some refreshments, but he never came back.
She waited until she grew drowsy, then turned her head and, without warning, met a pair of pitch-black eyes. She was so startled she screamed and wailed.
Later, she learned that this person was the Third Prince of the palace, and that the warm pavilion was his territory—he’d been reading there all along.
She just didn’t know how long he’d been watching her from behind the multi-shelf cabinet. She hadn’t spoken, and he hadn’t made a sound either.
The dream ended, and she woke up. Anning sat up in a daze.
The windows of the warm pavilion were double-layered, pasted with thick paper. The pale whiteness of the northern winter was filtered into a honeyed amber glow, which happened to fall precisely on the person sitting across the kang table.
He was sitting upright, writing something with a brush, his eyelids lowered. His face bore a few scattered reddish marks—leftover from his bout with smallpox—but they didn’t detract from his handsome features.
His face was very small, fair and clean, with clear contours and a straight, prominent nose—enough to hint at the elegance he would possess in the future.
Bathed in that honeyed light, the focus on his face gained a warmth that made him seem not so cold after all.
“Awake?” He suddenly lifted his head.
Ah, he’d spoken to her first.
Anning, still not fully awake, slowly crawled over to the kang table and flopped down softly, “What are you writing?”
“Homework assigned by my tutor.”
Anning leaned in to take a look—it was in Manchu. She propped her chin on her hand and sighed.
Before she could even settle properly, a dish piled high with shelled melon seeds and walnut kernels was pushed across to her.
—He had shelled them all himself, as an exercise in patience.
The melon seeds were easy enough, but the walnuts were hard to crack, especially with the thin layer of soft skin clinging tightly to the kernels.
At first, he couldn’t shell them well—they came out in broken pieces. Once he could shell them perfectly, he switched to using his left hand.
He was a prince, and the walnuts and melon seeds he shelled were not something just anyone was qualified to eat—they all ended up in Anning’s stomach.
“Thank you, Third Brother! The walnuts you shell are sweeter and more fragrant than anyone else’s! I love eating them the most!” Anning’s little face was all sweetness. The first sentence was flattery, and the next was already a request—”I want to eat those too!”
Only after speaking did she realize that this wasn’t someone she could casually order around—he was an imperial prince. She immediately switched to coaxing, “Third Brother, help me.”
She was pointing at a dish of kumquats.
Sure enough, her sweet words always came with a price.
The Third Prince was speechless. He gave a disdainful look at the juicy kumquats, then glanced at her feigned pitiful expression, and ultimately picked one up and began peeling it.
Anning immediately beamed with joy, propping her chin on her hand and smiling sweetly as she watched him peel it.
At home, she always ordered people around like this, and no one ever refused her. Sure enough, it worked just as well in the palace.
Wasn’t the Third Prince so kind to her precisely because she knew how to speak sweetly?
Thinking this way, she couldn’t help but feel secretly pleased with herself.
Her mother had said she would suffer hardship and have bad luck.
But where was the hardship? Everyone in the palace treated her well, and she’d even become playmates with a prince—her luck was excellent.
Although he was gloomy and didn’t like to talk, at first Anning would be startled by his staring gaze and always felt a creeping unease.
But later she discovered he wasn’t a bad person.
He didn’t have that air of preciousness that other young masters had. Many times he did things for himself. It was said that because he’d been sent out of the palace to avoid smallpox shortly after birth, he’d never even seen his own mother or father. During those two years outside the palace, he was greatly neglected—many people hadn’t even thought he’d survive to return. After coming back to the palace, the Emperor didn’t care about him, and his mother, being out of favor, had no say either. He was raised under the Empress Dowager’s care, spending his days studying and nothing else.
Quite pitiful, really.
The tangerine was peeled and handed over. Anning was the first to break off a segment and bring it to his lips, eagerly saying, “Third Brother, you eat first.”
Third Prince didn’t eat it. Instead, he turned his head and called for someone to come in, then couldn’t wait to get off the couch with his hands.
Anning bit into the tangerine, utterly confused.
The rear hall of Cining Palace was the Empress Dowager’s bedchamber, which housed a small Buddhist shrine.
The Empress Dowager had enshrined Buddha statues and sutras. “Has the snow stopped?”
Sumalagu attended to the Empress Dowager as she rose, washed her hands, and applied fragrant balm. “It shows no sign of stopping. Perhaps it will continue through the night.”
Admiring the snow by the window, the Empress Dowager didn’t turn her head. “Suma, tell me, what do you think of that girl from the Hesheri family?”
Sumalagu thought for a moment, then poured tea for the Empress Dowager. “Princess Hesheri has a gentle temperament and has always been well-behaved. Aside from being timid and fearful in her first few days at the palace, she adapted quickly.”
“Most importantly, the prince has taken a liking to her.”
“Xuanye is still young—what could he understand? He only knows that Anning is his future wife.” The Empress Dowager let out a scoff. “Before Anning even entered the palace, Xuanye asked me, ‘What does a wife do?'” Speaking of this, she found the children both pitiful and endearing—Xuanye was, and so was Anning.
Sumalagu remembered this and a smile crept into her eyes. “You told the prince, ‘A wife is one who accompanies you through life, sharing joys and sorrows, respecting and cherishing each other.'”
“The prince seemed not to understand, yet he’s already unconsciously gentle with the young lady.”
The Empress Dowager laughed aloud and shook her head. “That girl Anning has a sweet tongue and knows how to coax people. She’s beautiful too—who wouldn’t adore her?”
“Never mind Xuanye living alone outside the palace for those two years. Ask anyone in the palace—when do they not kick those who are down and flatter those who are up? After enduring those bitter days, of course he’d like Anning’s sweet talk.”
Sumalagu couldn’t help but smile. “What you say is very true.”
The Empress Dowager said, “We’ll arrange the match tomorrow. That girl Anning hasn’t read a single book since entering the palace. She can’t keep being lazy every day—it’s time she started learning.”
Sumalagu replied solemnly, “Yes.”
She understood clearly that Princess Hesheri was not merely the future Third Prince’s consort, but the future mother of the nation upon whom the Empress Dowager placed great hopes.
In the East Warm Pavilion, Anning sneezed hard and lounged lazily on the soft couch.
She looked left and right, confirmed that the two of them were the only ones in the warm pavilion with no servants or maids around, and immediately grew bold enough to urge, “Aren’t you done writing yet? I’m hungry already.”
Third Prince, who had just washed his hands three times: “…”
Hungry right after eating?