Jiang Congyan’s convoy entered the city without incident, passing along Xuanyang Avenue that cut across Chang’an and through its bustling wards, before finally arriving at the Prince of Chu’s residence near the imperial palace.
The Prince of Chu’s residence had once been a royal garden of the previous dynasty. The desolate Emperor Wei had been tyrannical and indulgent, exhausting the people with heavy taxes and extravagant constructions, building countless palaces in extreme luxury. After the fall of that dynasty, the founding emperor established the capital in Chang’an, reorganized these palaces, and granted them to his capable officials and fierce generals.
This estate had originally been the Eastern Palace of Crown Prince Zhaowen. Vast in scale, it was later inherited by Prince Chu, Jiang Huai, and converted into the current residence.
The carriage stopped at a side gate, where servants had long been waiting after receiving word of the young lady’s return.
Seeing them, Sizi couldn’t help but curl her lips in disdain. The Princess Consort of Chu had urged so urgently in her letters, yet upon the lady’s arrival, she sent only a steward to receive her. Truly saying one thing and doing another—better to have stayed in Liangzhou.
Jiang Congyan paid no mind and stepped down from the carriage, entering the residence directly.
“Miss, you’ve finally returned! Madam has been thinking of you constantly!”
Already displeased, Sizi nearly retorted, but Ruolan discreetly pinched her waist, forcing her to swallow her grievances, though her expression remained resentful.
“Many thanks for Madam’s concern,” Jiang Congyan replied indifferently.
She first returned to her courtyard to wash and change, putting on a white robe with vermilion collar and wide sleeves, paired with a dark teal skirt tied with silk cords. A green shawl draped over her arms, she was then led by maids to Jingzhen Residence to pay respects to the Princess Consort.
The two sat facing each other on low couches. After a few polite exchanges, silence fell.
Suddenly, the Princess Consort spoke, her voice cold in the dim room.
“I hear you brought fifty armored guards with you.”
Jiang Congyan lowered her gaze, hands folded neatly before her, posture straight and calm like still water.
“Yes. Bandits have been rampant in recent years, often plundering. My grandfather feared danger along the road and arranged guards for protection.”
Her reasoning was sound, her tone gentle and steady—so composed that no fault could be found.
The Princess Consort stared at this stepdaughter of hers. She had a delicate, beautiful face that shone like a pearl even in dim light. At first glance she seemed easy to control, yet after more than a year, she had proven impossible to grasp.
Unsatisfied, the Princess Consort cleared her throat and said loftily,
“The Marquis of Liangzhou is indeed thoughtful. However, our residence houses many people. I’m afraid we cannot accommodate so many guards. You should send them back.”
Behind Jiang Congyan, Sizi knelt in attendance. Hearing this, she glared in anger.
No room? The residence was enormous—only three masters lived here, with countless empty rooms! Just last year, servants had complained that unused rooms were being eaten by insects. The Princess Consort was clearly targeting her lady!
Sizi clenched her fists, feeling increasingly aggrieved on Jiang Congyan’s behalf.
Back in Liangzhou, the lord and his wife had cherished her lady like a treasure. The young masters and ladies treated her like family. Yet here in Chang’an, she faced constant difficulty from her stepmother.
Jiang Congyan gave her a calming glance before raising her eyes slowly to meet the Princess Consort’s. Her dark pupils were soft like water yet carried a faint depth.
“If Madam says there is no space, I will arrange for them elsewhere.”
No argument, no anger. Her tone remained unhurried, serene, as though nothing in the world could disturb her composure.
The Princess Consort was left speechless—but unwilling to let it go.
She recalled last year: she had arranged a marriage for Jiang Congyan, but before it was finalized, people from Liangzhou came to take her away, causing her great embarrassment among the noble ladies.
Some had mocked her openly:
“Is it because you’re only a stepmother that the Marquis of Liangzhou disapproves of your choice?”
Others said,
“You’re her mother, yet you cannot decide her marriage?”
The humiliation had been unbearable.
Regaining composure, she lifted her chin and said condescendingly,
“You are already seventeen. As your mother, I should find you a suitable husband. Otherwise, the ladies of Chang’an may think I neglect you.”
Though her words sounded proper, her intentions were anything but kind.
Jiang Congyan’s expression did not change, but the warmth in her eyes faded. She looked steadily at her.
“Madam has troubled herself. But perhaps you do not know—my marriage is not so easily decided.”
After leaving Jingzhen Residence, Jiang Congyan headed toward Lishui Courtyard.
Along the way, Sizi finally burst out in complaints, words spilling like beans from a jar.
“Madam has gone too far! She’s clearly trying to make trouble for you. We absolutely can’t let her succeed!”
Even the usually steady Aunt Ruolan advised,
“Miss, you must not wrong yourself. If Madam insists, you should write to the master and ask him to intervene.”
Knowing their concern, Jiang Congyan stopped, took their hands, and comforted them. Rarely playful, she said with a smile,
“Don’t worry. If she bullies me, I’ll complain to Grandfather.”
Though she joked, her thoughts had already turned to marriage.
The Princess Consort was manageable—her grandfather’s authority could suppress her. The real concern was the one above. The Princess Consort hadn’t considered her marriage before, but after several visits to the palace last year, she began selecting candidates—all with one thing in common: no military power.
Clearly, the emperor was watching closely, worried she might marry back into Liangzhou.
She would never marry a cousin, but delaying forever wasn’t an option. Perhaps… she could find someone to cooperate with?
It might work—a mutually beneficial arrangement with someone who would reassure the emperor.
As she pondered suitable candidates in Chang’an, she arrived at Lishui Courtyard.
Meanwhile, in the northern palace, Jiuhua Palace was in chaos.
A girl of sixteen or seventeen, dressed in bright, luxurious garments, burst into the hall despite attendants trying to stop her.
“Mother! Mother! I heard the King of the Northern Desert entered the city today!”
“They say he’s here for a marriage alliance. Is Father going to marry a princess to him? Will he… will he choose me?”
“The barbarians are savage and cruel—they eat raw meat and drink blood! And that king… they say he looks like a leopard, like a beast. If I’m married off, I won’t survive…”
The more Jiang Yinzhu spoke, the more frightened she became, trembling at her own imagination.
“Zhu’er!” the beautiful consort finally interrupted.
She was about thirty, stunning and elegant—the emperor’s most favored concubine, Noble Consort Zhao.
“The matter is not decided. Why panic so much?”
“How can I not be afraid?” Jiang Yinzhu clung to her arm. “All the older princesses are married. I’m next!”
“Mother, you must persuade Father. I refuse to marry a barbarian! Let Sixth Sister or Seventh Sister go instead!”
Zhao Guifei gently cupped her daughter’s face.
“With me here, even if you were the only princess, I would not let you marry a barbarian. I will find you a suitable husband.”
Relieved, Jiang Yinzhu beamed.
Later, when the emperor arrived, Zhao Guifei brought up the matter during their private time, saying she couldn’t bear to marry her cherished daughter off to a distant land.
She expected easy agreement—but instead, the emperor fell silent.
Then he said darkly:
“Today, when I sent envoys to receive him, that Tuoba Xiao made a demand—he said…”
‘I will choose my own worthy wife.’
“An arrogant barbarian!”
Zhao Guifei’s heart sank.
What if… he chose her daughter?
No—she had to find a way