“That’s good.”
Consort Li nodded. “I heard from His Majesty that her father’s official rank isn’t high, but he’s from a scholarly family. I was worried she might be too proud and cause some trouble. However, children from smaller families are sometimes less strictly taught—if she behaves improperly in any way, you mustn’t take offense.”
Ruan Mianmian understood. Consort Li was worried about unrest in Prince Xiang’s inner court. As the son of the Emperor with a legitimate claim to the throne, he had such burdens—aside from his talent and ability, even the harmony of his household would be something the Emperor considered carefully.
“Please rest assured, Mother Consort. Sister Bai is far better than I am. Though I bear the name of a girl from a duke’s household, most of my life was actually spent on our country estate. If not for the Empress Dowager’s dream, I wouldn’t even have returned to the capital. I know my place well—there’s no reason to compare myself with her.”
Consort Li paused and turned her head to study Ruan Mianmian, as though testing whether her words came from sincerity.
Ruan Mianmian smiled openly. Consort Li exhaled softly and took her hand, patting it gently. “Good child, don’t belittle yourself. What’s wrong with the countryside? You already have such insight—that alone makes you extraordinary. I too grew up in the countryside. My father was only a private tutor then, teaching a handful of students. The villagers were simple folk. Every year, aside from their tuition fees, they’d bring mountain goods and farm produce as gifts during festivals. Later, when my father became a minor official in the city, the New Year was never again as lively and festive as it had been in the village.”
Ruan Mianmian had known that Consort Li’s maiden family wasn’t powerful, but she hadn’t realized she had such a background. Seeing the fondness on her face, Ruan couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship. Happily she said, “So Mother Consort has lived in the countryside too! It’s truly free there. Though there aren’t elegant gardens like in noble households, once you step outside the door, the world is vast and open. The fields stretch endlessly, and in spring and summer the mountains are covered with flowers. In autumn, golden leaves drift down, and the air is full of the fragrance of harvest—we call that the scent of grain.”
Her words stirred a long-forgotten homesickness in Consort Li’s heart. She nodded softly. “In a time of peace, the countryside is indeed wonderful. I often think it’s no wonder that scholars and recluses love to hide away in the mountains—it truly is a life without restraint. As you said, the heavens and earth are broad, and the heart feels free.”
The two chatted warmly until it was almost noon. Only when Lin Zhuo sent someone to invite them did Consort Li laugh. “We’ve been talking so long, I forgot the time. I’d meant for Zhuo’er to come and have lunch here with you both, but since it’s your second day after the wedding, you should dine at home. I won’t keep you. Come visit often when you have nothing to do—tell me about the interesting things outside the palace.”
Ruan Mianmian rose with a smile. “Please don’t worry, Mother Consort. The pastries here are delicious—I’ll certainly come often.”
After taking her leave, she was escorted out by Chunyu, Consort Li’s chief maid, who accompanied her all the way to the palace gate and watched her and Lin Zhuo depart before returning to report.
“What do you think of the couple?” Consort Li reclined slightly on her couch, thoughtful.
Chunyu replied, “This servant watched carefully. His Highness treats Her Highness the Princess Consort with consideration, though not with particular tenderness. Their manner of speaking to each other is quite ordinary.”
Then she smiled and added, “But Your Ladyship need not worry. Our prince is the most composed of men. He won’t so easily be swayed by the princess consort.”
Consort Li rubbed her forehead softly. “That’s just it—he’s too composed. He’s still so young, yet everyone says he’s mature beyond his years. I’d rather he show a bit more youthful passion—he’s too restrained, and that can’t be comfortable.”
“Born to royalty, how can there be such freedom?” Chunyu sighed. “From childhood His Highness has always had his own mind. Your Ladyship needn’t fret too much.”
Consort Li looked out the window, lost in thought for a while before murmuring, “That child Mianmian seems good to me. In my heart, I truly hope she’ll be a good match for Zhuo’er. But the pity is… alas!”
Chunyu cautiously said, “Though she’s the Empress’s niece, this servant finds her clever and sensible. I think she knows very well who her true mother-in-law is.”
“You have no idea how difficult that is. The Empress isn’t just her aunt—she’s her greatest support. In the end, her backer will always be the Duke’s household, not me.”
Chunyu fell silent. After a long pause, Consort Li slowly sat up again and sighed. “Forget it. What use is there in worrying about the future? Who can predict it anyway? For now, let’s just live well. I do like that child, though. I wonder what the girl from the Bai family is like? Hopefully, my son will have good fortune and never have to worry about the quarrels of his household.”
Chunyu smiled, helping her up. “Your Ladyship always says—children and grandchildren have their own blessings. Leave it to His Highness and set your heart at ease.”
“Yes. It must be left to him. Even if I wanted to help, my reach doesn’t extend that far.”
Consort Li shook her head, then suddenly touched her chin. “Mianmian’s talk today made me nostalgic. Now I find myself craving wild greens dipped in sauce. But alas, if I really ate them, by tomorrow the whole palace would be gossiping about it.”
Chunyu: …Your Ladyship, at least you know it would cause laughter.
“Your Highness, the side consort sent her maid with snow fungus and pear sweet soup. She said you’ve been busy with both state affairs and the wedding these past two days, so you should have something to clear your lungs and reduce internal heat.”
“Oh?”
Lin Zhuo looked up and after a moment asked, “Did the princess consort send anything?”
“No, she didn’t.”
Xile, the clever eunuch, wanted to speak in her favor but—nothing was sent, and he couldn’t conjure something from thin air.
“Alright.” Lin Zhuo nodded, picked up his bowl, and slowly finished his red date and lotus seed porridge. Then he stood and stretched. “Let’s go. I’ve been sitting in the study half the day—my neck’s stiff. To Qinghui Pavilion.”
“Yes.” Xile followed him out. Looking up, he saw the sky dark and heavy, the north wind howling. He whispered, “Your Highness, though it’s already past the first month, it looks like we’ll have snow tonight.”
“Let’s hope so,” Lin Zhuo sighed. “There was only one snowfall last winter. If this continues, this year’s harvest…”
He trailed off. Xile knew what troubled him and dared not say more.
Master and servant reached Qinghui Pavilion. The gate stood open; two young maids waited outside. Birdcages hung under the eaves, yet the whole courtyard was silent—under this bleak sky, it felt even lonelier.
Seeing them arrive, the maids quickly announced his presence. Moments later, Yuxue hurried out to curtsey. “Greetings, Your Highness. Yesterday the side consort went to the rear garden to feed the rabbits and, unexpectedly, caught a chill. She fears passing her illness to Your Highness, so she sent me to inform you that she will pay her respects once she recovers.”
(End of Chapter)