The golden crow sank in the west, layers of cloud finely spread across the blue sky. Inside the red walls and glazed tiles, people came and went, yet scarcely a sound was heard.
Beneath a towering ginkgo tree, Li Xuan sat on a sandalwood lotus chair with folded branches. His long fingers toyed with the lid of a teacup, brushing away the floating foam again and again.
Nearby, the teacher of Chongwen Hall trembled nervously. Chang Ying held a brush in one hand and a scroll in the other, asking the child before him, “How many times did you apply it?”
The child whispered, “Twice.”
Chang Ying noted it down. A servant beside him held a tray with silver coins; Chang Ying counted out two taels and returned them to the child.
The child clutched the silver, head lowered, and left through the gate of the Academy. The moment he saw his nurse waiting, he burst into tears.
Chun Feng thought to herself: What’s there to cry about? I didn’t cry at all. She sniffled once, but that small sound made Li Xuan set down his teacup and glance her way. His gaze bore down with the weight of a thousand catties, forcing her to bow her head even lower.
When the last child had been dismissed, Chang Ying cleared his throat softly and reported to Li Xuan: “Your Highness, in total, ninety-seven taels.”
Li Xuan’s brows furrowed faintly.
The matter was simple enough: Chun Feng had once teased a sparrow, stirring the children’s envy. She tricked them into believing that the rouge on her hands could attract birds. At first, she charged one tael per application, but seeing how easily they were duped, she raised the price to ten taels each. Had she not been caught today, she might have swindled them out of hundreds.
Chang Ying turned on the scholar-official: “Sir, were you muddle-headed to allow such a thing in the Academy?”
The official fell to his knees: “This minister truly did not know…” How could he have imagined that the princess would secretly trade with the children after lessons, even making them wash clean before returning home?
Li Xuan ignored him. Rising, he walked to where Chun Feng sat with her head tucked down. The little trickster bit her lower lip with fine teeth, long lashes trembling, and whispered: “Royal Brother, I was wrong.”
Li Xuan, seasoned in judging people, saw at once that though her mouth admitted fault, her heart remained defiant. Slowly, he rolled a bead of sandalwood from the bracelet at his wrist and asked: “Where, exactly, were you wrong?”
Sure enough, she hesitated for a long while and opened her mouth, but could not find an answer.
Xiang Rui followed close behind Chun Feng, sweating anxiously. She hurriedly knelt, wanting to speak on Chun Feng’s behalf—only for Li Xuan’s cold glance to silence her instantly.
Only then did Chun Feng feel a chill of fear. Knowing her royal brother’s temperament, wouldn’t he punish Xiang Rui and Hui’er too?
Summoning her courage, she blurted out: “Royal Brother, if you don’t punish the people of Furong Pavilion or me, I—I’ll explain.”
Li Xuan, curious to see what excuse she could muster, said evenly: “Go on, then.”
Relieved at the promise of no punishment, Chun Feng’s mind began to race, words tumbling out like a torrent: “I already said, to tease sparrows, you have to learn whistling. But they couldn’t manage it, so I told them to paint on nail polish—and they believed me! It was their choice to believe, not me deliberately deceiving them. Besides, I didn’t cheat the poor or weak. Ninety-seven taels is nothing to them, but my father… my foster parents… for just a hundred taels, they had no choice but to leave their home behind…”
Her words flowed sharp and clear, while the birds in the ginkgo tree chirped in chorus. Growing bolder, she lifted her chin: “Royal Brother, I’ve painted so many times these past few days, even coaxed children along. Isn’t it fair I earned a little money?”
Had she not glimpsed Chang Ying covering his face in exasperation, Chun Feng might have puffed herself up even more. Realizing she was overstepping, she forced a clumsy turn: “Of course, I *did* make mistakes. My mistake was…”
Her mistake was not knowing when to stop. If she’d known things would turn out like this, she would never have painted her nails today—she’d have waited for another day.
Chun Feng declared: “My mistake was neglecting my studies.” At that, she relaxed a little. Surely this line of reasoning was airtight?
Li Xuan gave a low “Mm,” ignoring other flaws in her speech, and said only: “Then let’s see your lessons.”
“Uh… cough, cough,” Chun Feng stalled.
The sycophantic tutor had already produced a stack of copybooks for Li Xuan. Even from the ink bleeding through the back, one could tell how atrocious the handwriting was.
Chun Feng’s heart leaped into her throat. She remembered how bored she’d been while writing—and how she’d even doodled a pig’s head!
Luckily, just then a voice rang out from outside the Chongwen Hall: “Lady Yao Zhi requests an audience.”
To Chun Feng, it was like hearing celestial music. She perked her ears at once.
Li Xuan’s hand paused mid-turn of the pages. He lifted his gaze toward the doorway: “Let her in.”
After Yao Zhi saluted, she said: “Your Highness, the Princess is to dine at Xingning Palace tonight. The hour has come, yet the Empress has not seen the princess, so she sent me to escort her.”
Chun Feng: “Ah…”
Xiang Rui reacted quickly: “Princess, you forgot? It really did happen.”
Chun Feng suddenly realized: “Oh, oh—yes, it did.”
Chang Ying secretly marveled. The Empress herself had stepped in to shield Chun Feng.
Silence fell over the Chongwen Hall. After a long pause, Li Xuan rolled up the homework scroll, tapped it lightly against his palm, and said: “Since it is Mother’s will, then go.”
Chun Feng suppressed the urge to leap with joy: “Goodbye, Royal Brother!”
She didn’t care for anything else, skirts fluttering as she dashed toward the door—yet something made her glance back. The ginkgo leaves swayed, and the setting sun blurred the cold severity of the man behind her, making him seem less frightening.
Meanwhile, Yao Zhi’s sparkling gaze left Chun Feng oddly unsettled, as though her cheeks were being caressed from afar.
Chun Feng pointed to herself and asked Yao Zhi: “Is there something on my face?”
Yao Zhi laughed: “No, nothing at all.”
In truth, Yao Zhi was thrilled. The last time the Empress had sent someone to the Eastern Palace was five years ago.
Because of the Crown Prince’s marriage, he drove out the old nanny who had served the Empress. From then on, the Empress harbored resentment and, in defiance, never again set foot in the Eastern Palace.
Strictly speaking, the Chongwen Hall was not quite the same as the Eastern Palace—but for the sake of calling Chun Feng away, the Empress had broken five years of stalemate. Once there is a first, there will be a second. How could Yao Zhi not be delighted?
Chun Feng, carefree as ever, took Yao Zhi at her word and thought no more of it. When she reached Xingning Palace, she flung herself toward the Empress, crying sweetly: “Mother, Mother! Thank you for saving me!”
She nearly clung to her.
The Empress turned aside to avoid her. She had only learned of the Chongwen Hall incident after meeting Prince Fu’s heir. Thinking Chun Feng would be scolded again, she hesitated, but in the end sent Yao Zhi to the hall—leading to the scene just now.
Ignoring Chun Feng’s wide, pleading eyes, the Empress frowned and said: “You truly are far too unruly!”
Chun Feng, quick to sense nuance, realized that though the Empress’s tone sounded severe, compared to the Crown Prince’s flat indifference, the Empress was actually easier to face. So she seized the chance, lowered her head, and said: “Yes, I know I was wrong.”
The Empress could not fathom it and asked again: “After all this commotion, what were you after?”
Chun Feng twisted her fingers together, murmuring: “I just wanted a little money.”
“For money alone?” the Empress pressed.
Chun Feng looked at her with pleading eyes: “I’ve been fined three months’ stipend; I have no money.”
The Empress let out a long breath. So it was merely for money—a trifling matter. She ordered Yao Zhi: “Go to the treasury and fetch a hundred taels for the princess.”
Yao Zhi answered cheerfully, “Yes.”
Chun Feng’s eyes widened until the heavy pouch of silver was placed before her.
The Empress scolded her again: “You are a princess now. You must not behave so improperly.”
Chun Feng, “as if bathed in spring breeze,” nodded eagerly: “I’ll obey Mother in everything. Mother treats me so well—I’ll never forget your kindness!”
The Empress: “…”
Was this what she called kindness—merely dragging her to Xingning Palace and scolding her twice? Her lips pressed together, the corners etched faintly deeper.
By then the dishes were already set on the table, and Chun Feng was happily eating, carefree as ever. The Empress shook her head and had the servants serve the meal.
It had been a long time since the Empress kept someone for supper in the palace. Afterward, Yao Zhi even packed a box of sweets for Chun Feng, earning several chirped “thank you, Sister Yao Zhi.”
Once Chun Feng left, the Empress chuckled: “This child’s vision is so shallow—just a few coins, and she’s bought over. In the future, won’t some man wave money at her and carry her off?”
Yao Zhi hid a laugh at her side. The Empress hadn’t noticed—she was already thinking about “the future.”
…
Chun Feng and Xiang Rui carried the hundred taels of silver and the box of treats back to Furong Pavilion.
Since this money had come openly, and after today’s fright, Chun Feng’s fingers loosened with joy—she scattered twenty taels among Xiang Rui, Hui’er, and Fen’er.
Hui’er and Fen’er, hearing Chun Feng’s tale of Chongwen Hall, had been sweating with worry. Learning she had escaped unscathed, they laughed in relief.
Xiang Rui, though rewarded, still fretted. She advised: “Princess, from now on, you must study properly in Chongwen Hall. No more schemes.”
Chun Feng replied: “I won’t. I promised Mother, and I can’t go back on my word—or as they say, ‘renege.’”
Though she didn’t speak of “learning from pain,” she did feel a measure of restraint. Her urgent task remained: to decipher Lin Qingxiao’s letter. Best of all would be to bring Lin Qingxiao into the palace as a princess herself—let her taste how terrifying and unreasonable her elder brother truly was. Perhaps with that thought in mind, Chun Feng dreamed that night.
In her dream, Lin Qingxiao had indeed become the true princess. And Chun Feng, drunk on power, forced everyone in the palace to paint their nails bright red, delighting in it—until the Crown Prince’s cool gaze fell upon her. He raised his hand and pressed down on the back of her neck.
Chun Feng jolted awake. She touched her nape, feeling fine baby hairs, yet still sensing that heavy hand upon her skin. She rubbed her neck. Dawn was breaking, and Xiang Rui and Hui’er lifted the pale yellow bed-curtains:
“Princess, you’re awake so early today?”
Chun Feng: “Mm.”
Suppressing the strange feeling, she rose, washed, ate breakfast, and set off for Chongwen Hall. On the way, she ran into Chun Shu.
Chongwen Hall was not Furong Pavilion. This time, neither the Empress Dowager nor Li Xuan had bothered to cover for her—so the whole palace already knew of yesterday’s incident.
Chun Shu asked: “Royal Brother came yesterday. Are you all right?”
Chun Feng lifted her brows proudly: “I’m fine.”
Chun Shu laughed: “How did you ever think of doing such a thing?”
Chun Feng: “It’s a long story…”
Before she could finish, the two stepped into Chongwen Hall—only to sense something amiss. Looking closely, they saw the side gate connecting to the Eastern Palace thrown wide open!
Chun Shu gasped: “So this door really can be opened?”
Chun Feng’s scalp prickled with dread.
Sure enough, Chang Ying stood at the gate, smiling as he beckoned: “Princess, come along now…”