That day felt utterly strange for Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun. First, they were summoned into the palace by the Empress Dowager. Hardly had they warmed their seats back in Datong Ward before the Empress called them in again. If it had ended there, it might have been manageable—but then the Eastern Palace sought them out.
This time, Chang Ying did not send Jin Yun with attendants. He waited at the palace gates himself, greeted the Lin couple with easy familiarity, and led them inside.
Yu Xiujun had meant to probe a little, to see whether Chang Ying’s summons also concerned Chun Feng—otherwise, the whole affair was far too odd. But before she could speak, she saw several eunuchs carrying one bloodied figure after another down the corridor.
Chang Ying frowned and rebuked the leading eunuch: “Couldn’t you wait until nightfall before sending the Daoists out of the palace?”
The eunuch, startled to have been caught, slapped his own cheek in panic: “This servant deserves death!”
Each of those bloodied men was barely clinging to life, their Daoist robes soaked crimson. Some had lost their ceremonial crowns, trampled flat beneath indifferent feet.
Above, a few cold crows cut across the sky, cawing harshly, draping the palace in a chilling air of menace.
Yu Xiujun shivered. Only then did she remember—this was the royal court, not the home of common folk.
Chang Ying smiled again: “Madam Yu, be at ease. They are merely men who have erred. Pay them no mind.”
Yu Xiujun nodded hastily, not daring another word. As for Lin Datian—his legs were trembling so badly he could hardly walk. Still unsettled, they were ushered before Li Xuan.
It was their very first formal audience with the Crown Prince. Both were so nervous they dared not lift their eyes. They only saw him rinsing his hands, dabbing away droplets with a plain handkerchief, then winding a string of Buddhist prayer beads around his wrist. He moved with deliberate grace, yet his composure only made Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun all the more afraid to look directly at him. They suddenly realized—Chun Feng dared to skip about right under his gaze. What a reckless, big‑hearted daughter she was.
…
Meanwhile, at Furong Pavilion.
After calling out “Royal Brother,” Chun Feng fell silent. Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun saw no trace of surprise or joy in their daughter’s face.
Chang Ying found it odd. In his view, even if the Lin couple did not weep, they should at least be excited—and the princess herself should not appear so calm.
But before he could speak, Lin Datian broke the silence. He stammered: “My lord, is it because we took Chun’er—oh no, the Princess’s fish cakes and blanket today, that we’ve been summoned again?”
Chang Ying demanded: “What do you mean by ‘again’? What exactly did you take from the Princess?”
Lin Datian stammered: “Just that expensive, fishy roe… and the Persian blanket…”
Li Xuan arched his brows.
Chang Ying was astonished—so the little princess had given everything the Crown Prince bestowed straight to her parents.
Seeing Li Xuan’s expression turn faintly cold, Chang Ying quickly stepped in to smooth things over, dispelling the misunderstanding: “It has nothing to do with that. The Princess was frightened, and seeing her foster parents helps ease her emotions. You’ve already visited?”
Chun Feng replied: “Twice. Once when Aunt Ming Yuan invited me, and once when Sister Yao Zhi did.”
Chang Ying sighed: “So that’s how it is.”
Now Chun Feng could not muster even a trace of sorrow. She muttered helplessly: “Is it really so hard to speak freely in the palace?”
Li Xuan: “…”
Indeed, for a long time, the Eastern Palace, Shouyang Palace, and Xingning Palace had little to do with one another.
Li Xuan turned slightly and said to Chang Ying: “Escort the Princess’s foster parents out of the palace.”
Chang Ying found it almost amusing, but quickly bowed his head: “Yes.”
And so Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun, bewildered as when they came, left just as bewildered.
Chang Ying was absent, and Xiang Rui lay bedridden. Chun Feng felt the Furong Pavilion far too small to contain Li Xuan, this towering presence—but with him standing in the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, watching the snow, she could hardly open her mouth to ask him to leave.
She remembered Xiang Rui’s usual excuse for dismissing guests: simply saying there was no tea prepared in the palace. Finding her chance, she said: “Royal Brother, there is no tea ready inside. If you’d like some, shall I have it brewed?”
Li Xuan: “Mm.”
With that, he walked straight into the main hall, pretending not to notice Chun Feng’s little frown.
Helpless, Chun Feng signaled Hui’er to fetch tea, then followed in his footsteps.
Her mind returned to the earlier misunderstanding—it was such a pity. Gathering her courage, she asked: “By the way, does this count as me meeting my foster parents? Or not?”
Li Xuan: “So you’ve found your tongue. What are you trying to say?”
Chun Feng pressed on: “Could I save this chance up and use it next time?”
Li Xuan: “And after meeting them, give them fish roe and blankets again?”
Chun Feng felt as though she’d been caught red‑handed. She gave a sheepish smile: “They’ve never seen such fine things outside the palace.”
Li Xuan looked at her: “What I give you—don’t give away.”
Only then did Chun Feng realize those gifts had come from Li Xuan himself. She had thought they were from Chang Ying. But since Chang Ying served the Eastern Palace, those things were essentially Li Xuan’s anyway. It was natural to say they were his gifts. She reasoned it through herself, then asked: “Then may I give them something else?”
Li Xuan: “You may. No need to ask me.”
At that moment, Hui’er entered, head bowed, carrying a tray. The tea was steeped with dried rose petals, filling the air with a rich fragrance.
Chun Feng eagerly took the cup and offered it to Li Xuan. Then, timidly lifting her lashes, her eyes shimmered with tender light, brimming with affection as she gazed only at him. It made one want to raise a hand and cover her eyes.
Li Xuan’s expression did not change. He accepted the tea and took a sip—then slowly furrowed his brows. Too sweet.
…
At dawn, Chun Feng was roused from sleep by Hui’er and Fen’er’s startled voices. She poked her head out from the bed curtains, still drowsy—then her hazy eyes flew wide open. Inside the bedchamber, from the racks to the tables, a Persian carpet had been spread out—larger, brighter, and more splendid than the one before.
Seeing her awake, Hui’er said: “Princess, look at this carpet.”
Chun Feng dove into the woolen rug, rolling in its softness and warmth. Barely restraining her excitement, she studied the intricate patterns: “So beautiful! Where did it come from?”
Hui’er: “It was just delivered from the Eastern Palace.”