Yuhua Palace lay in the southeast, while Xingning Palace stood far off in the northwest. Chun Feng “trekked” all the way there, and only when she finally saw the plaque of Xingning Palace did she exhale in relief.
Xiang Rui dabbed the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief and asked the little eunuch at the gate to announce them. The boy darted off at once. Before long, a senior palace maid came hurrying over, skirts lifted. She was about Ming Yuan’s age, and gave Chun Feng the same impression—dependable, reassuring.
Xiang Rui hadn’t expected her to come in person. Startled, she greeted her: “Aunt Yao Zhi.”
Yao Zhi bowed to Chun Feng, her face alight with smiles. “Princess, please come in.”
Her gaze was so fervent and sincere that Chun Feng felt a flicker of doubt.
Fortunately, when she met the Empress, the woman’s manner was just as cool as yesterday—neither warm nor cold—and Chun Feng’s heart settled.
The Empress tapped her fingers lightly on the desk and asked, “His Majesty has already appointed a tutor for you. Why have you come here?”
Chun Feng replied, “Because Mother also said she would choose one.”
The Empress paused. Yesterday’s words had been mere politeness, casually spoken, yet Chun Feng had taken them to heart.
Yao Zhi asked gently, “What does the Princess think?”
Chun Feng said, “If Mother also appoints one, I fear the two tutors will compete to teach me.”
Yao Zhi laughed, then turned to the Empress: “Your Majesty, the Princess speaks with reason.”
The Empress raised her teacup, sipped, and said to Yao Zhi, “Summon Nanny Hong here to pay her respects.”
“Yes,” Yao Zhi answered.
Soon, Nanny Hong was brought before the Empress. After a few formal words, the Empress instructed her to be diligent. Thus, on the surface, she too became the Empress’s appointed tutor.
When Chun Feng and Nanny Hong departed, Yao Zhi felt a little dazed. The matter had resolved so evenly and peacefully—preserving both the Emperor’s and Empress’s dignity, while sparing Princess Yuning from difficulty.
Turning back, Yao Zhi said to the Empress, “The Princess grew up outside the palace, yet she acts with refreshing candor.”
The Empress rubbed her forehead and gave a faint smile: “She stumbled into it by chance. No need to praise her.”
Three feet of ice do not form in a single day; Yao Zhi wisely let the matter drop.
Nanny Hong was a veteran of the palace. In the late Emperor’s time, she had once served tea at his side. Later, when her legs grew unsteady, she retired to the inner court and took up the role of tutor.
Everyone in the palace knew the Emperor and Empress were estranged. Though the Emperor had assigned her to Princess Chun Feng, Nanny Hong had no wish to oppose the Empress. After all, the realm would one day belong to the Crown Prince. The Empress was his mother. To offend her now would mean bitter consequences when the dragon ascended to heaven, and the Crown Prince took the throne. So, when Eunuch Kang from the Emperor’s side told her that morning to instruct Princess Yuning, Nanny Hong felt far from willing. Yet when masters of the palace vie for influence, she could not escape being drawn in.
Unexpectedly, without any prompting, that princess from the common folk went of her own accord to Xingning Palace.
At that moment, Nanny Hong’s heart bloomed with delight. As expected, Xingning Palace followed the steps down, and everything settled into calm. Because of this, she treated Chun Feng with genuine patience—laying out the palace rules, even pointing out the places most prone to error without holding anything back. She demonstrated the etiquette of walking: “When you walk, your hands must not swing. Hold them properly before you, keep your posture upright, your steps…”
Nanny Hong showed the movements, and Chun Feng watched closely.
These so‑called rules were nothing more than gestures of the hands and feet, not some impossible task. Chun Feng thought it was like a more refined sort of “housework.”
Listening to Nanny Hong’s endless instructions, she said, “I’ve learned it.”
Nanny Hong was surprised. “The Princess has learned it?”
Chun Feng rolled up her sleeves. “I’ll walk; you watch.”
Nanny Hong laughed and smoothed her sleeves back down. “Princess, remember—your sleeves must not be rolled up at will. And you are walking; how could you need to roll them up?”
Chun Feng laughed a little sheepishly. She had treated this as “housework,” and when doing chores, she was used to rolling up her sleeves—otherwise Yu Xiujun would scold her.
Inside, chatter and laughter filled the air. Outside, a eunuch’s cry rang out: “His Majesty arrives—”
The Emperor, with a bearing of immortal grace, strode into Furong Pavilion.
The maids knelt. Chunfeng too bowed: “Father Emperor.”
He kindly raised her up, but when facing the gathered servants, his face suddenly hardened: “Who urged the Princess to go to Xingning Palace?”
The attendants chorused, “We would not dare.”
Though the palace was vast, its eyes and ears were many. Any small movement spread across the halls in no time.
The Emperor had long known of the morning’s affair.
Chun Feng explained, “It was I who wished to go.”
The Emperor’s expression softened. He patted her shoulder and said, “Yuning, people’s hearts are unfathomable. Do not go often to Xingning Palace—it is not a good place.”
New to the palace, Chun Feng simply agreed.
Only then did the Emperor allow Nanny Hong and the others to rise. Stroking his beard, he smiled and asked, “What were you doing just now? I heard your laughter even outside.”
Nanny Hong replied, “Your Majesty, this servant was teaching the Princess her etiquette.”
The Emperor asked, “How is the princess’s learning coming along?”
Nanny Hong praised, “The princess is quick and eager to learn. With just a rough lesson on walking, she has already mastered eight or nine parts of it.”
Chun Feng nodded—this wasn’t difficult at all.
The Emperor, still doubtful, pressed, “Oh? Has she truly learned so quickly?”
Nanny Hong replied, “The princess was just about to demonstrate.”
This time, Chun Feng didn’t roll up her sleeves. She placed her hands properly, assumed a dignified posture, and stepped forward with elegance.
Watching his daughter walk, the Emperor nodded with satisfaction, then cautioned Nanny Hong: “Learning etiquette is inevitably tedious. You must not force Yuning.”
Nanny Hong answered, “I understand.”
Chun Feng took her second step.
The Emperor remarked, “If the princess can master this walk within ten days, that will be commendable.”
Nanny Hong agreed, “Yes.”
Chun Feng took her third step. She knew she could command her own feet—ten days wouldn’t be necessary.
The Emperor then ordered Eunuch Kang to grant Nanny Hong a waist token, saying: “Until Yuning has learned the proper rules, you may go to the inner treasury each day and select fine items. They are my reward for Furong Pavilion.”
Nanny Hong replied, “Yes.”
Chun Feng: “…”
On her fourth step, her foot twisted and landed wrong. The Emperor cried out in alarm, “Quickly—someone support the princess!”
Chun Feng clutched Xiang Rui’s hand, narrowly avoiding a fall. With a crestfallen look, she said, “Father, after just a few steps, I can’t seem to control my own feet.”
Seeing that his daughter was unharmed, the Emperor first breathed a sigh of relief, then reassured her: “There’s no need to rush your lessons. Take it slowly—there will be rewards each day.”
Chun Feng fought to keep the corners of her mouth from lifting and said, “Thank you, Father.”
That very day, she accepted a warm jade ruyi with tears in her eyes. The treasure shelf had no space left, so she placed it at the foot of her bed and at night, used it to prop up her little feet.
…
In the Eastern Palace.
Half an hour earlier, the Crown Prince had been practicing archery in the courtyard. Afterward, he returned alone to his chambers, dismissing attendants.
Outside, Chang Ying had his hands tucked into his sleeves, chatting idly with a young eunuch, stealing a moment’s leisure. Since returning from the imperial tour, he had been kept busy serving Li Xuan and finally had a chance to rest.
Down the long palace corridor came Ming Yuan, carrying a lacquered food box carved with flowers. She called out, “Chief Eunuch Chang.”
Chang Ying quickly smiled: “What matter could make Auntie come in person?”
Ming Yuan replied, “Lingnan has sent tribute of river clams. Empress Dowager ordered me to prepare clam-and-silver-ear soup with goji berries and deliver it to the Crown Prince.”
…
By this season, the palace fires had already been lit beneath the floors. The Eastern Palace should have been warmed as well, but Li Xuan, strict with himself and disliking extravagance, kept only a single brazier in his room.
That day was gray and overcast; pale daylight filtered through the lattice windows, casting a thin chill across the chamber.
Ming Yuan felt a chill seep in.
Before the weapon rack, Li Xuan stood tall and straight as jade. His left hand supported a long bow, while the slender joints of his right hand, pale as carved jade, pressed a silk cloth along its curve. Moments earlier, while practicing archery, he had loosened the dark robe embroidered with floral medallions. The plain white inner collar now lay exposed, tracing a free, unrestrained line across his figure.
Formal courtesies need not be repeated. Ming Yuan set down the food box, unfastened the clasp, and presented a sancai bowl patterned with gourds. Inside, the broth was milky white and steaming hot.
Chang Ying attended Li Xuan as he washed his hands. Li Xuan dried them with a towel, then glanced at the box where another bowl of soup remained. He asked, “Who has yet to be served?”
Ming Yuan replied, “Princess Yuning of Yuhua Palace.”
Li Xuan’s brows lifted slightly.
Chang Ying, recalling how quiet Yuhua Palace had been of late, smiled and asked Ming Yuan, “Shouldn’t Princess Yuning be learning riding and archery by now? Does she have a bow suited to her hand?”
In this dynasty, the founding emperor had won the realm on horseback. Customs were open, and imperial daughters were expected to master riding and archery.
Ming Yuan said, “I just heard recently—Princess Yuning has yet to master even walking properly.”
Chang Ying was astonished. “She looks clever enough. How could she not learn?”
Ming Yuan answered, “Perhaps her comprehension is lacking.”
Chang Ying mused, “Children with simple hearts are often like that.”
Li Xuan set down his spoon. Chang Ying handed him tea; he rinsed his mouth, then repeated three words: “Simple-hearted?”
Chang Ying faltered, recalling how Chun Feng had once pretended to be a corpse. But that had been Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun’s idea. After all, she was just a young girl—how much malice could she truly harbor?
Li Xuan rose, fastening the clasp of his outer robe. “To Yuhua Palace,” he said.
Yuhua Palace.
Nanny Hong had just departed when Xiang Rui hurried after her. “Nanny!”
Nanny Hong stopped in her tracks.
Xiang Rui asked, “Nanny, the princess is so slow at learning etiquette—when will she ever master it?”
Nanny Hong felt amused.
In truth, ever since Chun Feng’s “fall,” Nanny Hong had realized the girl had already learned. She only pretended not to so she could keep receiving daily rewards. But the emperor and his daughter shared a bond of fatherly affection and filial devotion—one willing to give, the other willing to receive. Nanny Hong had no wish to spoil their delight. She smiled with layered meaning. “Don’t trouble yourself, child. She’ll know it when the time comes.”
Xiang Rui did not grasp the hidden sense and remained anxious.
Even the hardest rules should have been mastered after so many days, yet Chun Feng still could not walk more than a dozen steps without stumbling.
Soon the altar would be opened for the Heaven-sacrifice. If Chun Feng had not yet learned the rites, what then?
Troubled, Xiang Rui lifted the felt curtain and entered the room.
Inside, warmth glowed. A shadow play was being performed: behind a white screen, palace entertainers manipulated figures, vividly enacting, “You and I cannot share the same sky!”
Chun Feng, chin propped in both hands, leaned against a pillow, eyes shining as she watched. Hui’er peeled a grape and offered it to her. She took it into her mouth, utterly content.
Seeing her so carefree, Xiang Rui sighed softly.
But Chun Feng’s ears twitched; her gaze swept over her. “Don’t sigh.”
Xiang Rui forced a smile. “Yes, Princess.”
Chun Feng sat upright, studied Xiang Rui for a moment, then asked, “You’ve been unhappy these past few days. What’s wrong?”
Xiang Rui hesitated, but seeing the genuine concern in Chun Feng’s eyes, she whispered, “I only fear… fear that Your Highness won’t master the proper etiquette. When the time comes to face the civil and military officials…”
At this, Hui’er and Fen’er also showed worry.
Chun Feng: “…”
She had been busy counting her daily rewards, never realizing how long they had fretted. At last, she confessed: “Don’t be afraid. In truth, I’ve already learned it.”
Xiang Rui gasped: “What?”
Rather than explain, Chun Feng smoothed her robes and stood. Gone was her usual laziness; her back straightened, her steps firm and poised—the very etiquette she had supposedly failed to grasp all this time.
Seeing Xiang Rui, Hui’er, and Fen’er exchange bewildered looks, Chun Feng winked at them: “I can even walk faster.” She strode briskly, her sleeves fluttering like wind.
Chun Feng: “And I can walk backward too.” She stepped back with practiced grace, looking every bit the part.
Xiang Rui recalled Nanny Hong’s hint, suddenly enlightened, half laughing, half crying: “So the Princess was really…” Her words broke off. She stared at the doorway, her face paling.
Chun Feng: “What is it?”
Xiang Rui opened her mouth, but something seemed to stop her. She shut it again, tension written across her face.
Hui’er, Fen’er, and the palace performers all dropped what they were doing and knelt.
Chun Feng’s heart clenched. She lowered her gaze.
Because the windows were shut for the shadow play, the light from outside fell across the floor, casting a long, slender silhouette.
Slowly, she turned. Li Xuan was standing there, his brows sharp, his eyes fathomless, his expression unreadable.
Chun Feng: “R–Royal Brother.”
Behind him, Ming Yuan bowed her head, her lips pressed tight. Chang Ying tried to signal Chun Feng with his eyes, but his eyes were too small—she couldn’t make out what he meant.
Li Xuan shot Chang Ying a sidelong glance. Chang Ying quickly lowered his head, not daring another move.
Chun Feng pulled back her gaze from him.
Li Xuan drawled: “You’ve been practicing diligently?”
Chun Feng nodded like a pecking chick: “Diligent, very diligent.”
Li Xuan: “Then why, after ten days, have you still not learned?”
Seeing a chance to argue, Chun Feng lifted her eyes, sneaking a look at him, and nudged the floor with her toe: “The ground is uneven. After two steps, I feel like I’ll fall.”
The corner of Li Xuan’s thin lips seemed to twitch. Chun Feng thought—he smiled. A smile was better than a stern face.
But then he said, “The paths of the Eastern Palace are smooth.”
Chun Feng: “…”
Li Xuan: “Go practice there.”