Half an hour earlier.
Lin Datian’s hands wouldn’t stop trembling. “What on earth is happening…?”
Yu Xiujun recalled those legendary tales—some even spoke of babies being switched at birth.
For instance, a noblewoman giving birth at a mountain estate while the royal family was also present, leading to a mix‑up. But in truth, she had given birth to Chun Feng at home. If there had been a mistake, it was only in a dream.
Just as the couple felt as though they were walking on clouds, their daughter tugged lightly at their sleeves, pulling them back down to earth.
Chun Feng whispered, “Father, Mother, I have something to say.” She glanced at the county magistrate, who tactfully withdrew with his yamen runners.
With no outsiders present, Lin Datian’s pent‑up emotions burst forth; his face flushed with excitement. “Our family has struck it rich?”
Yu Xiujun couldn’t hide her unease. “Could such good fortune really be true?”
Chun Feng, seeing no one nearby, lowered her voice to her parents. “I’m going to find the eunuchs and tell them they’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun: “Ah?”
Only a moment of shock passed before Lin Datian’s taut heart eased. “Our Chun’er is truly sensible. What isn’t ours, we mustn’t take.”
Seeing her father’s misunderstanding, Chun Feng explained, “I think I know who the real princess is.”
Her parents were even more astonished. “Who?”
Chun Feng: “We’ll have to ask Lin Qingxiao.”
Yu Xiujun: “Would he know?”
Chun Feng gave a mysterious little “mm.”
Because Lin Qingxiao wasn’t a boy—she was a girl.
Back when they were thirteen, Lin Qingxiao had stained her clothes during her first menstruation. If not for Chun Feng’s quick reminder, one more pair of eyes would have seen, and her secret—that she was a girl—would have been exposed.
At that time, Lin Qingxiao’s face was deathly pale. She spent a fortune on expensive sugar to bribe Chun Feng, begging her to keep the secret.
Chun Feng, holding that knowledge over her, had countless chances to run wild and trample her—but Lin Qingxiao endured it all. Later, Lin Qingxiao fled. Chun Feng quietly wondered if perhaps she simply couldn’t bear being “ridden” anymore. Now, the jade pendant at the heart of this case—Lin Qingxiao had worn it since childhood. What did that mean? That her “childhood companion” might actually be the princess!
Realizing this, Chun Feng’s mind began to race: If she impersonated the true princess and were exposed, it would mean death. But if Lin Qingxiao was the real princess, then when one person ascends, even the chickens and dogs rise with her. Chun Feng wouldn’t just keep her head—she could go on living comfortably, still perched on Lin Qingxiao’s shoulders.
Still, whatever reason Lin Qingxiao had for disguising herself as a boy, Chun Feng couldn’t rashly betray her. The secret must be kept. The urgent task now was to find Lin Qingxiao. If Lin Qingxiao were willing to shed her disguise and return to her family, all would be well—and even debts would cease to matter.
At this moment, Chun Feng folded her hands before her, tilting her head as she looked at Chang Ying. Her lips pressed together, cheeks round, eyes sparkling like stars—utterly obedient in appearance.
But Chang Ying’s smile nearly cracked like biting into sand. Heavens, could this child truly be so simple‑minded? To deny being the princess!
Still, as a seasoned fox of the Eastern Palace, Chang Ying quickly recovered his smile and asked, “Princess, why do you say that? Isn’t the jade pendant yours?”
Chun Feng replied, “This pendant belongs to my friend. If you find her, you’ll find the princess.”
Chang Ying thought to himself: the Crown Prince has already decided—he dared not stir up trouble. Finding someone was fine; deceiving someone, that he could manage.
So he said sternly, “Princess, are you certain? Your letter has already been sent by fast horse to the palace. If there’s a mistake, it won’t be a laughing matter.”
Chun Feng: “What would happen then?”
Chang Ying drew a line across his neck. “It would be the crime of deceiving the emperor—punishable by death.”
Chun Feng quickly covered her own neck.
Chang Ying smiled; he could tell she was still just a child. He offered her a way out: “No doubt the princess is not yet used to her new identity, and so spoke a little foolishly.”
Chun Feng: “Mm.”
Chang Ying reminded her again: “From now on, princess, you must never say such things to outsiders.”
But Chun Feng furrowed her brows, her eyes dimming, as though she wanted to sigh but couldn’t.
Chang Ying asked, “Does the princess have other concerns?”
Chun Feng: “What about my father and mother?”
Chang Ying didn’t bother correcting her address—her father was now the emperor, not Lin Datian. He replied, “They raised the princess with great kindness. If you cannot bear to part from them, they shall return with you.” He would have to keep a close watch on Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun, lest they let something slip.
Chun Feng worried aloud: “I don’t even know what life in the palace is like.”
Chang Ying: “I have already arranged trustworthy attendants to serve the princess. Ask them, and you will understand.”
Chun Feng nodded. “Very well then, I am the princess.”
Chang Ying let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, watching her wander off. A while later, he hissed under his breath. Strange—this was supposed to be the greatest of blessings, yet it felt as though he still had to coax Chun Feng into accepting it.
Chun Feng quickly accepted reality. Whether she claimed to be the princess or not, her head was at risk either way—so she might as well tidy herself up and play the role.
As for Lin Qingxiao, Chun Feng thought, she would never give up searching for her. If the truth were ever exposed, only Lin Qingxiao could save her.
Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun, seeing Chun Feng return without being able to refuse the princess’s identity, felt a measure of relief—even a touch of joy.
Dangerous though it was, the rewards were immense. The first blessing was that their days of hiding and running were finally over.
Yu Xiujun learned that the princess had gone missing at the age of four.
The family whispered among themselves and devised a plan: “We’ll say Chun’er was fostered at four years old, and lost all memory before then.”
Chun Feng agreed. In truth, not only before four—even before seven, she remembered very little.
The attendant Chang Ying promised Chun Feng a maid, one originally from the Eastern Palace, named Xiang Rui.
Xiang Rui was two years older than Chun Feng, yet a little shorter. Her temperament was gentle and delicate, her manner plain and sincere. As she dressed Chun Feng’s hair, she revealed what she could: “Since the princess has forgotten her childhood, I ought not to mention it—but there is one thing you must remember.”
Chun Feng asked, “What is it?”
Xiang Rui whispered, “The reason the princess was lost traces back to the Rebellion of Qingsheng twelve years ago.”
The Rebellion of Qingsheng referred to the late Qingsheng era, when General Huwei, stationed at Longyou, rose in revolt. Changjing nearly fell, and two years of war followed.
Chun Feng had been too young to recall anything. Linjia Village was remote enough to escape the flames of war. Because of the rebellion, many fled to Linjia Village for refuge. Lin Qingxiao’s family had arrived then as well.
Even now, Yu Xiujun sometimes muttered, “Those years—who knows how many died out there, tsk tsk.”
As for the rest, they were simple villagers. Noticing a change of county magistrate was already remarkable; the affairs of the capital were utterly beyond them.
Chun Feng asked Xiang Rui, “Did that General Huwei lose his head in the end?”
Xiang Rui: “He did.”
Chun Feng: “That’s wonderful.”
Xiang Rui’s expression turned odd. After a pause, she softly reminded her: “General Huwei was the Noble Consort’s elder brother. The Noble Consort is your mother. He was your uncle.”
Chun Feng: “?” That was really not good.
Xiang Rui considered for a moment, then continued: “Later, the Noble Consort took her own life out of fear of punishment. The Princess need not worry—the fault of General Huwei might not implicate you.”
Chun Feng: “The Emperor actually agreed to that?”
Xiang Rui: “Indeed, it was His Majesty who spared no effort to preserve the Noble Consort’s posthumous honor. She was granted the title Yide.”
Chun Feng lifted her brows slightly and asked in a low voice: “What sort of man is the Emperor?”
Xiang Rui chose her words carefully: “All these years, in order to find the Princess, His Majesty devoted himself to Daoist cultivation. He attained a spiritual realm that moved Heaven itself, and thus the Princess was found.”
Chun Feng understood then—so he was a muddle-headed ruler.
At that point, Xiang Rui gestured toward the mirror. Her eyes lit up in delight as she said with a smile: “Princess, look into the mirror.”
Not long ago, Chun Feng had neglected her appearance to escape her debts, yet even so, she had the makings of a beauty. Now her hair was coiled in a flying-cloud bun, adorned with two golden leaf hairpins that swayed as she moved. A delicate flower ornament gleamed at her brow, carving out the youthful charm and radiance of her features. Her skin glowed with a soft luster, needing little powder. A touch of vermilion graced her lips, vivid and alluring, her beauty captivating.
Chun Feng stared at the mirror, secretly tasting the red on her lips with the tip of her tongue. Sweet.
Xiang Rui’s heart brimmed with satisfaction. Truly, there are no ugly ones in the royal clan—after years of hardship among the common folk, the Princess still shone like a flawless pearl. She motioned for Chun Feng to rise, dressing her in a saffron robe woven with golden lotus vines, paired with a scarlet skirt embroidered with a hundred blossoms, and draped a green gauze shawl over her shoulders. Even Chun Feng herself realized how splendid the attire was, and she cast Xiang Rui a questioning glance.
Xiang Rui explained: “The Crown Prince has leisure today and has summoned the Princess.”
Chun Feng had already heard that the Crown Prince was traveling north as well. According to the Emperor and Empress Dowager’s wishes, “brother and sister” would return to the capital together. But they rode in separate carriages, far apart, and she had yet to meet him face to face. She had thought they would only meet once they entered Changjing.
Sensing Chun Feng’s unease, Xiang Rui added: “The Princess need only greet the Crown Prince as usual. His Highness is magnanimous and discerning; he knows you have not yet mastered all the courtly rites and will not make things difficult.”
Chun Feng nodded. Yet inwardly she recited: *Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes, the son of a rat will dig holes. A muddle-headed emperor’s crown prince is bound to be useless.*
She walked with ease, idly playing with the gauze shawl as she followed Xiang Rui toward the Crown Prince’s residence.
They had already left Zhang County; this was Jinzhou. Before the Prince’s arrival, the Prefect had vacated his official mansion for him.
Passing through the garden, where rockeries overlapped, streams trickled, water plants thrived, and butterflies chased one another, Chun Feng slowed her steps—she had never seen such a delightful scene.
Xiang Rui noticed and reminded her: “Princess.”
Chun Feng snapped back to herself and hurried after her. She was just about to ask if they were nearly there when, from a nearby room, came a cry: “Your Highness, spare me! I am innocent!”
Immediately, two towering guards dragged out the Prefect of Jinzhou.
Chun Feng remembered how dignified and noble he had seemed when welcoming them. Now his face was full of terror, begging for mercy, his legs limp like noodles as he was hauled away.
Chun Feng: “…”
The eunuch standing outside the room went in and announced: “Reporting to His Highness, the Princess has arrived.”
From within came a man’s unfamiliar, low voice: “Enter.”
Chun Feng glanced at Xiang Rui.
Xiang Rui, shaken herself, forgot to check her mistress’s appearance and only whispered: “Go… go on. The Crown Prince is magnanimous…” Her voice no longer sounded so certain.
Enough—Chun Feng’s chest rose and fell steadily as she strode into the room. She passed around a four-panel screen painted with mountain-and-river landscapes. The floor beneath her eyes dazzled with the intricate patterns of a Persian carpet. She lifted her gaze, following the direction in which Chang Ying bent low to offer tea— upon the long desk lay neatly stacked scrolls. Behind them sat a young man, no more than twenty.
He sat upright, posture tall and commanding, his hair bound with a white jade crown. Clad in a crimson robe patterned with drifting clouds and mythical beasts, his brows were sharp, his eyes refined, and he radiated heroic vigor. As he raised his hand to take the tea, a string of sandalwood prayer beads coiled around his wrist, lending him an air of calm authority.
Instinctively, Chun Feng lowered her gaze and, just as Xiang Rui had taught her, bent in salute: “I greet my royal brother.”
The room fell silent. Chang Ying found it odd—this meeting of “siblings” was meant to be a mere formality, so that once they entered the capital, Chun Feng would at least recognize the Crown Prince.
By rights, Li Xuan should have simply said “Rise.” But he set down his teacup and remained wordless for a long while.
Chang Ying, uneasy, followed Li Xuan’s gaze toward Chun Feng. He had trusted Xiang Rui to prepare the girl—her skill was reliable; nothing should have gone amiss.
Indeed, Chun Feng’s bearing was striking, her makeup properly done. Yet—Chang Ying’s heart lurched. The vermilion on her lips was blotched and uneven. How had this happened? It looked terribly improper! His pulse quickened as he stole a glance at Li Xuan, then dared to ask: “Princess, what happened to your lips?”
Chun Feng blinked, then instinctively licked them again, tasting the faint sweetness of the rouge. She had never used lip balm before and didn’t know it would smear when licked. So she simply said: “It’s lip rouge.”
At that, Li Xuan closed his eyes briefly, then asked in a cool tone: “Does it taste good?”
Chun Feng answered honestly: “Quite sweet.”
Chang Ying: “…”