The visiting card was sent, but there was no response to the first one. Muxue personally wrote a second, choosing a piece of floral letter paper. She wrote: Your grand-niece, the Fourth Princess, sends her humble and respectful greetings from afar. As I am about to embark on a long journey, I hope to see my Grand Aunt’s benevolent face and listen to your teachings. I pray for an audience.
A day later, a response finally came; she had agreed.
Each spring rain brings a touch of warmth. Muxue sat inside the sedan chair dressed in a lined garment, feeling a bit stifled and slightly warm.
The sedan chair turned into Shihu Hutong, and they arrived at the Kechun Chang Gongzhu Fu.
It was a fine, large residence, appearing even more magnificent from the outside than the one Muxue currently lived in. However, the entrance hall was desolate and exceptionally quiet.
The servants of the household were also well-advanced in years. A grey-haired old matron with a wooden expression led several maidservants to pay their respects to her, her steps trembling as she led the way. The sunlight revealed dust motes floating in the air. Both sides of the narrow path were densely packed with green plants. Upon reaching the inner garden, the greenery and flowers became even more abundant. A single magnolia tree was just beginning to bud, filling the courtyard with a delicate, light fragrance.
Princess Kèchún sat amidst this vast expanse of green trees and fresh flowers. A flower hoe and a pair of flower shears rested in the corner; she must have just finished pruning the plants.
Before coming, Muxue had sketched a portrait of her in her mind, but seeing her now, she realized the reality was entirely different.
Princess Kèchún was in her fifties. People of this era seemed to age faster; she was elderly and had put on some weight, appearing slightly plump. The wrinkles on her face clustered around a pair of eyes that once belonged to a beauty, now looking like glazed glass mixed with lime—hazy and misted over.
She looked at Muxue, her tone level. "What is it? Do you find this old woman different from what you imagined?"
Muxue shook her head subconsciously, but after a moment's hesitation, she nodded truthfully.
Seeing her like this, Princess Kèchún actually laughed. "Truly a child." She turned and told the matron to bring a cup of hot milk tea.
The sun was pleasant, so Princess Kèchún invited Muxue to sit outside to soak in the sunlight.
The maidservants arranged the fruit table and milk tea, then retreated beneath the eaves, leaving a peaceful space for the two princesses—one old and one young.
After a few polite pleasantries about health and such, Muxue found herself at a loss for words. She picked up the milk tea and took two sips.
Princess Kèchún asked, "Why would a young girl like you want to see me?"
Clutching her tea cup, Muxue said in a soft voice, "Actually, I don't really know why either."
"I see," Princess Kèchún said. "You are about to depart for Mobei, aren't you?"
"Yes, just next month."
With nothing left to say, silence fell for a while.
Muxue finished her milk tea down to the bottom and stole a glance at Princess Kèchún beside her. The elder woman had her hands resting on the round-backed armchair, sunbathing in a very comfortable position with her eyes closed, seemingly dozing in the sunlight.
This demeanor reminded Muxue of her mentor before her rebirth—a wise and cheerful old lady who had lived through many hardships. Back then, when Muxue was crying from the stress of being unable to write her thesis, feeling as though the sky were falling, her mentor had pulled her onto the lawn to soak in the sun. The sunlight was warm, the wind was gentle, and a stray campus cat had appeared from nowhere, lying down beside them without any fear, rolling over to expose its orange-and-white belly to the sun.
Because of this, she felt a sense of closeness toward Princess Kèchún. She also thought that since this Grand Aunt rarely saw outsiders, she likely wouldn't be one to stir up trouble or gossip. Thus, Muxue slightly lowered her guard.
"Actually—" Muxue said, "I'm a little afraid."
Princess Kèchún continued to sunbathe with her eyes closed. "It would be strange if you weren't afraid. Such a distant place, and without a single relative in sight."
She slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to study Muxue. "You seem like a clever child with a delicate heart, a bit like your Emperor Grandfather; otherwise, you wouldn't have come to see me. It’s just that once you reach the grasslands, you must be a bit tougher to live comfortably. Nowadays, following those rules of the Confucian scholars has raised princesses to be so weak. When I was young, the princess aunts I saw dared to directly swing their whips at their consorts, and the trouble wouldn't end until Taizong personally stepped in."
In those days, princesses were truly arrogant and domineering.
Taizu had even specifically summoned the princesses to the Octagonal Pavilion for a lecture, warning them not to mistreat their husbands. At the same time, he decreed to the Efuma that if such a situation occurred again, they should come to him, their father-in-law, to seek justice.
Somewhere along the line, the atmosphere had quietly changed.
By the time she was married off to Wu Sangui's son, Wu Yingxiong, she would hear those matrons of Han Chinese descent lecture with stern faces about the Admonitions for Women. Later, she had also met several of Emperor Kangxi’s princesses, all of whom possessed appearances of gentleness and virtue.
Since the Fourth Princess had gone to the trouble of visiting her, she felt compelled to tell her some stories. Princess Kèchún adjusted her sitting position and slowly began to speak of her youth. "When I was married, my Efuma also didn't dare provoke me. Although he preferred his two concubines, he was respectful enough toward me. Later, there was Lin'er."
At the mention of her son's childhood name, her tone softened significantly.
"Lin'er was an extremely clever child. He could call for his mother at one year old. Just looking at him made me so happy. I watched him babble his first words, watched him enter the Study Room to read, watched him grow taller than me, watched him marry, and watched his child be born—it's just a pity that because of the Wu family rebellion, they are all gone."
At this point, she paused, her expression as if she had fallen into an old dream, tinged with a trace of melancholy.
Unable to bear it, Muxue gently placed her hand on the back of the elder woman's hand and gave it a squeeze.
Princess Kèchún looked back at her and smiled. "You child, you actually have tears welling up in your eyes. These are all things of the past. There were indeed times of unbearable pain, but I still… somehow managed to live until today."
She affectionately stroked Muxue’s cheek. "You are like Lin'er—kind-hearted, willing to shed tears for people who have nothing to do with you."
Muxue choked up slightly. "If only none of this had happened. I've read opera scripts with strange and fantastical stories about people with regrets who undergo rebirth and manage to avoid these hardships."
Princess Kèchún thought for a moment and said, "Then I suppose I would still be unable to avoid it. Even if I started all over again, I would still want to give birth to Lin'er and watch him grow up."
"But, that is far too painful," Muxue frowned.
"True, but I am not that kind of person," Princess Kèchún looked toward the magnolia tree in the sunlight. "Flowers will always fall; should we simply refuse to let them bloom because of that?"
She stood up, snapped off a low-hanging magnolia branch, and handed it to Muxue. "You are still young; you shouldn't think that way. Whether it be joy or sorrow, what is meant to come will come. There is no need to fear."
The magnolia branch brought back from Princess Kèchún’s residence was kept in a clear water vase and bloomed for an entire week.
Muxue also smelled the fragrance for a week, until the scent gradually faded and the branch withered. The time for departure had arrived.
Each of the Eight Banners dispatched soldiers, forming a procession of nearly a thousand people. Led by the newly titled Beile, the Fourth Prince and Fifth Prince, they gathered to send-off the Fourth Princess for her marriage.
Muxue dressed in her Ceremonial Robe and entered the palace to bid her farewells.
At first, Yi Fei sat with rigid dignity, but when Muxue kowtowed and said, "Your daughter is leaving," she could no longer maintain her poise. She rushed forward, pulled Muxue into her arms, and wept uncontrollably.
"You must take good care of yourself and write to me often. Don't fear the distance; if you have the chance, come back to visit."
"You must also take care of yourself."
Even a patch on the shoulder of the Ceremonial Robe was soaked with tears. The surrounding female officials and matrons hurriedly came forward to persuade them. After a long while, Muxue finally left Yikun Palace and headed to the Taihou’s palace to say goodbye.
On the way, the matrons urgently applied powder and touched up her rouge, but the redness of her eyes could not be hidden.
Inside the hall, the Taihou was present along with the other imperial concubines and the younger princesses. Seeing the Fourth Princess in this state, they all felt a great sense of sorrow.
After a few words of encouragement, the Taihou sighed as she watched the Fourth Princess depart.
Beside her, the Fifth Princess felt a shared sense of fate and clung to the Taihou’s arm, weeping.
The Fifth Princess was a few years younger than the Fourth Princess. Her biological mother was Consort De, but she had been raised by the Taihou since birth and was deeply loved by the old woman. Seeing her fourth sister leave the palace to be married off to Mobei, she couldn't help but feel a sense of shared empathy, worrying that one day she, too, would have to marry far away into the grasslands like her sisters.
Seeing the Fifth Princess trembling slightly, the Taihou felt pained that the child was frightened. She whispered to her, "Don't be afraid. I cannot bear to let you marry far away."
Hearing this, the Fifth Princess was initially overjoyed. The Taihou’s words carried great weight; since she had made a promise, it would surely not go unfulfilled. But immediately following that, she felt ashamed of her own joy.
The Fifth Princess hurried back to her bedchamber, asked the matron for the key to open her chest, and pulled out her favorite jadeite hairpin. She then waited along the palace path.
When Muxue emerged from bidding farewell to her Khan Father, she saw the Fifth Princess hurrying toward her, saying softly, "Fourth Sister, this is my favorite jadeite hairpin. Please take it with you. Don't forget me."
A fourteen-year-old girl, tearfully gifting a jade hairpin—even though Muxue had not had much interaction with her before, her heart softened. She leaned down and asked the Fifth Princess to pin it in her hair.
Once all the farewell rituals were complete, Muxue sat inside the Colorful Sedan Chair.
From afar, she heard the ceremonial music begin—it was the signal for the journey to start.
She couldn't help but lift the curtain and look back at the Forbidden City.
The Palace Complexes of red walls and glazed tiles stood silent and still in the sunlight, growing smaller and smaller until, at last, they vanished from sight.