After that commotion, no one had the heart to continue with lessons that day.
Chun Feng followed the Empress back to Xingning Palace in high spirits. As soon as she sat down, Yao Zhi brought over a dish of honeyed green plums and said, “Princess, please enjoy.”
Seeing Yao Zhi struggling to suppress her laughter, Chun Feng spoke openly: “If you want to laugh, then laugh. I won’t be angry.”
She had finally realized that “fanning the flames” was not the same as “Chun Feng.” When the Crown Prince accused her of stirring up trouble with the Empress, she understood his meaning well enough—though why did he have to speak in such scholarly riddles?
Yao Zhi, knowing she had misunderstood, quickly explained: “Good Princess, this maid would never dare laugh at you. I only wish to thank you.”
Chun Feng, busy sucking on the sweet plum, didn’t catch her words clearly. “Mm?”
With the Empress seated above them, Yao Zhi only murmured, “It’s nothing.”
When the Empress set aside her flower arranging and prepared to march into the Eastern Palace to “seek justice” for Chun Feng, Yao Zhi had already been secretly thrilled.
When Li Xuan invited the Empress into the main hall, Yao Zhi feared she would refuse. But at that moment, the Empress nodded.
It was the first time in five years that the Empress had stepped into the Eastern Palace, and that conversation about Chun Feng was also the longest exchange she had had with the Crown Prince in all that time.
Yao Zhi recalled how, over the years, she had pleaded with the Empress countless times—until her lips were nearly worn thin—yet she could not stop the distance between mother and son from growing.
Now, with “Chun Feng” blowing through, a bright crack had split that layer of ice. How could she not rejoice?
Chun Feng, oblivious to Yao Zhi’s hesitation, happily munched her plums, while the Empress ordered the servants: “Go summon Imperial Physician Liu.”
Chun Feng realized what was happening and whispered, “Mother…”
The Empress replied, “What, you can use that hand to pinch plums, can you?”
By now, if the Empress still didn’t see that Chun Feng had dragged her in as a shield, she would be far too muddle-headed.
Chun Feng quickly carried the entire dish of honeyed plums to her mother’s side, sat at her knee, and said, “Mother, please eat.”
The Empress scolded her: “Sneaky little thing, always setting sparks.”
Yet even as she spoke, she picked up a silver skewer, speared a plum, and ate it. Then she added, “Next time, remember what kind of spark you lit.” Clearly, she had no real intention of pursuing the matter further.
Chun Feng’s eyes brimmed with laughter as she said, “Calling it ‘mountain wind igniting fire’ isn’t wrong at all. Back when I lived with my foster parents, a blaze nearly swept through their home, carried by the mountain wind. Thankfully, it passed without harm.”
The memory still left her shaken.
The Empress, recalling that she had once lived in Bazhou’s Ye County, pondered a moment before asking, “Was it the wildfire five years ago, sparked by the drought in Bazhou?”
Chun Feng counted on her fingers. “Yes, five years ago. Mother also knows of it?”
The Empress faltered briefly, exhaling a heavy breath from her chest. “I do. By the way, Yao Zhi, summon Xilian from the Wardrobe Bureau to take Princess Yuning’s measurements.”
Chun Feng protested, “But I already have so many gowns—I can’t possibly wear them all.”
The Empress drew her to her feet, resting a hand somewhat awkwardly on her shoulder to gauge her height. “Winter Solstice is near. The royal altar will be opened for sacrifice, and the world will be told that you are the pearl recovered by the imperial house. I see you’ve grown taller than before—your robes must be remade, and nothing can be done carelessly.”
Chun Feng had often heard Xiang Rui mention the altar rites, thinking they were far off. She hadn’t expected them to be so near. Looking at the Empress before her, she thought: surely she has never measured a child’s height before—she should be measuring from the crown of the head. Softly, she murmured, “Actually… actually, I’m not Yuning…”
The Empress, recalling her earlier quip about “Chun Feng fans the flames,” chuckled. “I know. You are Chun Feng.”
Chun Feng: “…”
Yao Zhi and Xiang Rui turned aside, stifling their laughter.
Soon, Xilian from the Wardrobe Bureau entered with several attendants, paid respects to the Empress, and led Chun Feng to the side hall for measurements. The floor heating glowed warmly; Chun Feng shed her outer robe, leaving only a bodice. A faint blush rose beneath her skin, her neck smooth and delicate.
Xilian couldn’t help but ask, “Does the Princess enjoy moving about?”
Chun Feng replied cheerfully, “Yes, I do.” Lin Qingxiao always said she couldn’t sit still.
Xilian smiled, chatted a little more, then finished her work.
Xiang Rui dressed Chun Feng again, while Yao Zhi entered, dismissing the others with a gesture. She guided Chun Feng to sit upon the couch, hesitated no longer, and said, “Princess, this maidservant wishes to borrow this moment to speak of an old matter from five years ago.”
Chun Feng asked, “What old matter?”
Yao Zhi saw that she had forgotten everything and softly explained: “This concerns the Empress and the Crown Prince. I spoke out of turn—please don’t hold it against me, Princess.”
As the chief maid of Xingning Palace, Yao Zhi ought to have wished that the incident five years ago would be buried forever; the fewer mentions, the better. But if the little princess remained completely ignorant, one day she might stumble into trouble—for five years ago, besides the wildfire in Bazhou, the palace itself had its own “blaze.”
Chun Feng leaned closer: “Tell me in detail.”
Five years earlier, the Empress had set her sights on the legitimate daughter of the Zhou clan, intending to appoint her as mistress of the Eastern Palace. She hinted several times beforehand, but the Crown Prince rejected her both openly and subtly, saying only: “The wars have exhausted the people and drained the treasury. This is no time to fill the Eastern Palace.”
Yet five years had passed since the Qingsheng Rebellion; the Crown Prince now held power, and everything was back on track—there was no reason not to take a consort. While the matter was deadlocked, the Wang family also coveted the position of Crown Princess. The Empress struck first, sending her old matron from Xingning Palace with attendants into the Eastern Palace to refurbish the bridal chambers.
Chun Feng nodded—clearly the Empress’s style: “And then?”
Yao Zhi lowered her voice further: “His Highness drove them all out, even had the old matron flogged with ten strokes.”
Chun Feng gasped—very much Li Xuan’s style too.
“From then on, the Empress and the Crown Prince refused to yield,” Yao Zhi continued, combing Chun Feng’s hair. “Just then, a great drought and wildfire struck Bazhou in Shannan Circuit. The Crown Prince went on tour to calm the people’s hearts. Naturally, it also spared him further clashes.”
Chun Feng listened in wonder, realizing why the Eastern Palace had buzzed like restless crickets that morning—the Empress and Crown Prince had been locked in stalemate for so long.
Yao Zhi smiled: “Perhaps Bazhou’s scenery is fine. Since then, whenever His Highness toured, he passed through Bazhou twice. Did you never hear of it in the countryside, Princess?”
Chun Feng scratched her cheek: “Lin Village is too remote—I never heard.”
Yao Zhi sighed: “What a pity that you only returned to the palace after so long.”
But Chun Feng was less intrigued by the tours than by why Li Xuan refused to marry. She had always thought him cold by nature, rigid in conduct—even knowing he had once been punished to copy a hundred sheets of large characters, she could not picture him doing it. Now she had glimpsed another side, and pressed on: “Why does the Crown Prince stubbornly refuse to take a wife?”
Yao Zhi resisted the urge to pinch her cheek and laughed: “Princess, you could always ask the Crown Prince yourself.”
Chun Feng replied, “Forget it.”
She wasn’t that interested after all—let the Crown Prince marry whomever he pleased. From that day forward, however, she kept one matter in mind: the Winter Solstice sacrifice.
Although she had become a princess by a twist of fate, she lived the role with a fair share of joy. Yet her thoughts often drifted back to Lin Qingxiao.
Since Lin Qingxiao had managed to send letters into the palace through her parents, she must have known that her being recognized as the princess was a mistake. Why then did she remain so secretive?
Chun Feng realized she did not truly understand her “childhood companion.”
During a break in lessons that day, she picked out a few more characters from Lin Qingxiao’s letter to ask Master Zou Huan.
After explaining, Zou Huan mused, “Could it be someone left a message for Your Highness, but you cannot read it?”
Chun Feng’s eyes widened as she flatly denied it: “No.”
She feared the contents of the letter would be discovered, so she deliberately scrambled the characters, asking them one at a time, and even slipped a few to Xiang Rui to explain!
Who would have thought this old fox Zou Huan would guess so close to the truth.
Stroking his beard, he gave her a sidelong glance. “Rest easy, Princess. I doubt it says anything important.”
Chun Feng suspected he was still testing her, so she kept silent.
Zou Huan sighed, feeling his good intentions wasted. “The princess has plenty of little clever tricks.”
Chun Feng retorted, “And sir has great wisdom.”
“Little rascal!”
“Old monster!”
Suddenly, a clear ding-ling-ling rang out from afar. Both instantly straightened, returning to their proper roles.
Heavy palace gates framed the courtyards like blocks. A procession passed through, and the Eastern Palace guards bowed to the man at its head.
Li Xuan strode across the threshold, hands clasped behind his back.
Chang Ying hurried after him, bowing low. “Your Highness, Minister Chen requests an audience.”
Li Xuan had intended to go to the study, but suddenly changed his mind. “Send him to the study first.”
Chang Ying summoned a young eunuch to relay the order, then quickened his pace to keep up. After a few steps, he realized they were heading toward the side hall of the Eastern Palace. Thinking of Chun Feng, he couldn’t help but smile. Surely the little princess was finally studying properly now? Lost in thought, his sleeve brushed against a cord strung beneath the eaves. Before he could react, a crisp ding-ling-ling sounded above.
Li Xuan halted, looking up. A small silver bell trembled delicately, though no longer ringing. “When was that hung?” he asked quietly.
“Two days ago,” Chang Ying replied. “The princess said reading was dull, but listening to the wind through the bell refreshed her mind, so she could study better.”
Li Xuan said nothing, only softened his steps. Through the side hall window, he saw the girl sitting upright, her profile round, lashes long and curled. She held her book with both hands, repeating each line Zou Huan read aloud, shaking her head in mimicry. The golden hairpin in her bun bobbed with each movement, glittering flamboyantly.
A perfect picture of teacher and pupil in harmony.
Li Xuan withdrew his gaze and turned away.
Chang Ying, too, saw her studying earnestly. “It seems the princess can finally sit still.”
Passing along the corridor, Li Xuan did not look up. He only said, “Take it down.”
He meant the silver bell.
Palace attendants brought a ladder, wrapped the bell in thick cloth, and removed it without a sound.
Li Xuan waited beneath the corridor, then returned to the window. Before he even reached it, a clear young voice rang out: “Three sheets.”
Zou Huan sputtered, “Absurd! In seventy years of teaching, I’ve never assigned fewer than twenty sheets of homework!”
Chun Feng spread her fingers. “Five sheets.”
Zou Huan bristled, beard quivering. “Do you think this is a marketplace where you can haggle?”
“Seven sheets. No more.”
“Wishful thinking!”
Li Xuan raised his knuckle and tapped lightly on the window frame.
The sound cracked like thunder, freezing the room into silence. Zou Huan’s face flushed hot. He tugged his sleeve straight and stepped outside to bow. “This humble servant greets the Crown Prince.”
Inside, Chun Feng was still dawdling.
Li Xuan’s voice was cool, with an added command: “Chun Feng, come out.”