That little “swallow” nearly knocked Yu Xiujun off her feet. Her stance faltered, and she stumbled back several steps—thankfully, Lin Datian was behind her, steadying both mother and daughter.
Seeing her father, Chun Feng choked up, whispering, “Father…”
The one who had brought Yu Xiujun and Lin Datian here was a eunuch from the Eastern Palace.
Sensing that Xiang Rui and the others were stunned by the reunion, the eunuch pinched his voice and took charge: “Xiang Rui, the master wishes to speak. Quickly, take everyone out.”
“Yes,” Xiang Rui replied. She left with Hui’er and Fen’er, and the eunuch, departing last, closed the door behind him. Only the three Lin family members remained inside.
Yu Xiujun’s eyes reddened as she stroked Chun Feng’s tender face. “Come, let Mother see if you have grown thinner. Ah, no—you’ve grown plumper.”
Chun Feng wrapped her arms around Yu Xiujun’s waist. “Mother has grown plumper too.”
Lin Datian laughed, earning a playful slap from Yu Xiujun. In truth, none of them were truly fat. When they fled together before, hunger had worn them thin. To be fuller now meant life had improved.
Chun Feng asked how they had managed to enter the palace. Yu Xiujun explained: “It was that nobleman we bumped into before…”
“Chang Ying,” Chun Feng supplied.
“Yes, him. Lord Chang Ying came to us a few days ago, saying we would be brought in tomorrow. But just now, someone rushed to fetch us into the palace. I never expected him to be such a good man.”
Chun Feng felt a swell of gratitude. “He’s been so kind to me,” she murmured, clenching her fist in quiet resolve. “I’ll remember his favor.” She then asked how her parents had fared outside the palace.
Chang Ying had mentioned arranging for Lin Datian and Yu Xiujun to live in Changjing, but how had Lin Datian become “Lord Lin”? It was puzzling.
Yu Xiujun said, “Ask your father yourself.”
Lin Datian scratched his head with a sheepish grin. “I’m now working at the Taipu Temple. No, it’s called the Taipu Si. I’m an official there—an eighth-rank one, at that!”
The county magistrate himself was only of the seventh rank. Those appointed as magistrates were either scions of great clans or scholars who had advanced through the examinations.
Though officials crowded every street in Changjing, for Lin Datian to secure even an eighth-rank post was a tremendous stroke of fortune.
Lin Datian beamed: “Besides, everyone knows I’m the princess’s foster father. No one troubles me with real work—I’m free to idle away my days!”
Chun Feng exclaimed, “That’s wonderful!”
Yu Xiujun added, “We now live in Datong Ward. The palace even assigned us two guards—tall and strong fellows—who escort us whenever we go out.”
Chun Feng clapped her hands. “Even better!”
Yet deep down she felt something was amiss—more like being isolated and watched. Still, clothes and spirits don’t lie. Compared to their days fleeing creditors, Yu Xiujun and Lin Datian were clearly better off, enough to dull suspicion for the moment.
The family had endless words to share, talking on for a quarter of an hour before Yu Xiujun finally turned her attention to the Furong Pavilion. Her mouth fell open in wonder. “So many treasures!”
Lin Datian observed with satisfaction, “As long as our Chun’er is living well, I can rest easy.”
Chun Feng pouted, tempted to speak ill of the Crown Prince, but remembering Chang Ying’s kindness, she held her tongue. With so many valuables around, she naturally wished to gift some to her parents. Yet everything was registered, and she’d heard it was troublesome to take things out. Worse, many bore the imperial seal—unsellable even if one dared. The truly precious could not be touched; only clever little items might be chosen. She lifted a bronze censer from the treasure shelf, shaped like a wild goose clutching a fish. Thanks to her persistent tinkering these past days, one of the goose’s eyes had loosened. With a gentle twist, she pried it free.
Chun Feng thought to herself: Lin Qingxiao, I’m borrowing this from you. I’ll tell you so, but don’t expect me to return it.
She handed the purple pearl to Yu Xiujun. “Mother, this is a fine thing. You and Father should use it.”
Yu Xiujun, both pleased and uneasy, said, “But with one eye missing, won’t it be unlucky…”
Chun Feng laughed. “It’s fine. It’s not Lin Qingxiao who’s lost an eye.”
Lin Datian opened his mouth as if to speak, then fell silent. He gritted his teeth and pulled out a letter for Chun Feng. “Back at the yamen the other day, a stranger slipped this into my hand. See if it’s from Qingxiao.”
Yu Xiujun jumped up. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
Lin Datian replied, “I was afraid you’d tear it up.”
On the letter was a round, chubby pig’s head—Chun Feng recognized it instantly as Lin Qingxiao’s drawing.
Still angry at Qingxiao, Yu Xiujun struck Lin Datian a few times. “And you dare accept that boy’s things? Aren’t you afraid of being tricked again?”
Lin Datian dodged. “I just thought…” He thought of the jade Buddha pendant that had originally belonged to Lin Qingxiao. Fearing trouble, he hadn’t dared to hide the letter.
Chun Feng, however, was neither alarmed nor worried—she was even excited. She tore the letter open at once. “Maybe she’s come to Changjing too…”
Yu Xiujun, seeing her daughter’s lingering attachment to Lin Qingxiao, swallowed her anger and came over to read.
The three of them bent their heads together, staring at the letter for a long while. Then they looked at each other. They hadn’t managed to puzzle out the contents, but they had managed to reveal three pairs of eyes still unclouded by worldly knowledge.
…
Yu Xiujun and Lin Datian could not stay long. When the time came, they were escorted out of the palace before the gates were locked.
Though reluctant, Chun Feng was content. Only Heaven knew how blissful it was to see her parents just when she longed for them—blissful enough that she could once again enjoy wealth and honor with a light heart. After she washed up, Hui’er brought out the incense burner. She noticed that one of the carved geese was missing an eye and searched the floor for the purple pearl.
Xiang Rui said, “Check the corner of the screen.”
Hui’er replied, “I already looked there…”
Fen’er was painting Chun Feng’s nails with balsam juice. Hearing Hui’er searching everywhere for the pearl, Chun Feng’s little finger trembled guiltily. She whispered, “It’s fine—just pretend it fell off.” To stop further questions, she raised her hand, spread her fingers, and asked Xiang Rui, “Pretty, isn’t it?”
Xiang Rui laughed. “Beautiful. The princess’s fingers are truly lovely.”
Chun Feng said, “You should paint yours too.”
Xiang Rui answered, “This servant wouldn’t dare.”
Chun Feng pointed at Hui’er. “Then Hui’er should paint hers.”
Hui’er quickly hid behind Xiang Rui.
Since Chun Feng was no longer sunk in gloom, laughter once again filled the halls of the Furong Pavilion.
Before bed, Xiang Rui—as usual—drew down the curtains for Chun Feng. Lying on the bed, Chun Feng tugged at Xiang Rui’s sleeve.
Xiang Rui asked, “Princess, what is it?”
Covering her lips, Chun Feng whispered, “Xiang Rui, do you know how to read?”
Xiang Rui lowered her voice to match. “I do.”
Chun Feng’s eyes lit up, only to hear Xiang Rui add, “I once served in the Eastern Palace, so I learned quite a few characters.”
At the mention of the Eastern Palace, Chun Feng grew wary. If Lin Qingxiao’s letter spoke of the true and false princess, and Xiang Rui saw it, wouldn’t the Eastern Palace know at once? She had only just mastered court etiquette and escaped the Eastern Palace—what if trouble arose again?
Seeing her fall silent, Xiang Rui asked, “Princess?”
Chun Feng pulled the quilt up to her chin and shut her eyes. “It’s nothing. Go to sleep.”
It seemed she would have to decipher the letter herself.
…
At Xingning Palace, the Empress heard that Chun Feng was dull and slow, unable to grasp etiquette. She had thought to intervene, but the Crown Prince had already stepped in.
At the time, Yao Zhi remarked, “The princess is bound to suffer.”
The Empress neither agreed nor denied it. In recent years, she and the Crown Prince had grown ever more estranged. His younger siblings feared the Eastern Palace deeply; to be “taught” by him was beyond imagining.
Unlike the Dowager in Shouyang Palace, who believed the Crown Prince was devoted to the common-born princess, the Empress saw it as suppression. She thought: since Nanny Hong had already made her presence known at Xingning Palace, and Chun Feng was her daughter in name, she ought to take charge. So on the third day, regardless of how Chun Feng fared in her lessons, she resolved to bring her to Xingning Palace—better that than letting her suffer in the Eastern Palace.
Unexpectedly, Chun Feng needed only two days to master the rules of conduct and deportment, so she was no longer confined to the Eastern Palace.
Yao Zhi asked Nanny Huang, “Has the princess truly learned it all?”
Nanny Huang replied, “This servant would not dare boast, but the princess has for the most part mastered everything. If Your Majesty still has doubts, you may summon her here to see for yourself.”
The Empress said, “I understand. You may withdraw.”
Thinking that beyond palace etiquette, royal children must learn many other things, she summoned Chun Feng.
Before long, Chun Feng arrived gracefully, her bearing dignified, without any obvious fault. Her brows and eyes curved with a gentle smile, her lips lightly upturned. On that flower‑like face seemed to ripple a sweetness like honeyed water, festive and pleasing.
Yao Zhi, seeing her, felt as though she herself had been given a sip of honeyed water, and laughed as she asked: “Princess, what makes you smile so?”
Chun Feng could hardly say outright: Because I don’t have to go to the Eastern Palace; anywhere else feels delightful. So she chose a phrase close enough in meaning: “Because I’ve come to see Mother Empress, I’m happy.”
The Empress had just washed her hands and was about to enter the room. Hearing this, she paused, thinking to herself: Such a glib tongue.
Yet when Chun Feng saw her, her smile did not fade—indeed, it grew brighter—as she softly called: “Mother Empress.”
The Empress’s brows knit faintly, though her face betrayed nothing. She only said: “Sit.”
Yao Zhi poured tea. On the table lay a plate of red‑bean rice cakes, pressed into plum‑blossom shapes, their centers filled with glistening bean paste, petals carved in relief.
Chun Feng picked one up. With each bite, she glanced at the cake in her hand.
The Empress had meant to ask her about etiquette, but what came out instead was another question: “Is it not tasty?”
Chun Feng replied: “It’s delicious—only too beautiful to eat.”
The Empress said: “And now you’re giving critiques.”
Chun Feng’s eyes sparkled as she answered: “Etiquette never said one cannot give critiques.”
The Empress’s lips twitched; Yao Zhi lowered her head, smiling quietly.
At that moment, Consort Yi arrived with Princess Chun Shu to pay respects.
Chun Shu wore a skirt embroidered with a hundred blossoms and butterflies. Only a year younger than Chun Feng, her round cheeks and nose gave her a kindly look.
Perhaps because of Chun Feng’s own associations, she thought Chun Shu bore a faint resemblance to Lin Qingxiao.
Chun Shu greeted her: “Elder Sister Princess.”
Chun Feng, unused to the title, lowered her head with a smile and called her “younger sister.” She had always known Lin Qingxiao had “siblings,” though she had never met them. She wondered how many she might encounter in the future.
The Empress and Consort Yi exchanged pleasantries, then asked Chun Shu about her studies.
Afterward, the Empress turned to Chun Feng: “Next you must learn poetry and riding and archery. Which will you begin with?”
At the words riding and archery, Chun Feng’s heart nearly leaped away. But she quickly steadied herself. For the sake of that letter, she said only: “Mother Empress, I shall begin with reading.”
The Empress nodded and said, “Just as well—Chun Shu is going to the Chongwen Hall. You may go along too.”
After paying respects, Consort Yi returned to her palace, while Chun Feng and Chun Shu set off together for Chongwen Hall.
Back in Xingning Palace, the plate of red‑bean rice cakes at Chun Feng’s place had five pieces—four were gone.
When Yao Zhi cleared the dishes, she noticed the little princess had moved the last piece to the center of the plate, so it wouldn’t look pitiful left at the edge. She shook her head with a smile. “This Princess Yuning does love her sweets.”
The Empress cast a faint glance at the table.
In truth, when princes and princesses came to Xingning Palace to pay respects, they usually sipped a mouthful of tea and left. For example, the cakes at Chun Shu’s place hadn’t been touched at all.
Yao Zhi felt it was a pity, but she would never urge the Empress to grow closer to the Emperor’s children.
The Empress herself thought: Who would have guessed the first to eat so freely in my palace would be Noble Consort Lin’s daughter. She spoke without thinking: “She’s nothing like Lin Miao’er.”
Lin Miao’er was so shrewd and hateful, she could never have borne a daughter as soft and tender as Lin Chun Feng.
…
Chun Feng sneezed.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Chun Shu studying her, and asked directly: “What are you looking at me for?”
Chun Shu said: “Elder Sister, aren’t you very bold?”
Chun Feng: “Am I?”
Chun Shu: “You dared to go to our elder brother to learn the rules. None of us would dare.”
Chun Feng faltered—truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to either. But seeing the admiration in Chun Shu’s eyes, she felt a little proud and said: “What’s so strange? I even strolled through the Eastern Palace courtyard.”
Chun Shu admired her all the more: “We wouldn’t dare go there at all. Elder Brother must treat you very kindly, right?”
Chun Feng: “Not really, not really.”
After all, they were girls of the same age. Before long, the two were chatting easily.
By the time Chun Feng realized, they were already near the Eastern Palace. She stopped, thinking they had taken a wrong turn, and quickly said: “We’re supposed to be going to Chongwen Hall.”
Chun Shu replied: “Chongwen Hall belongs to the Eastern Palace—it’s in one of its side halls.”
Chun Feng: “Out of the tiger’s mouth, straight into the wolf’s den!”