“Is that really so?”
Yuxue was surprised, and Bai Chuchu nodded. The trusted maid muttered gloomily, “If she’s really not that important, why did Your Ladyship act so warmly toward her just now? You’re letting her look down on you.”
“Let her look down on me, then. You were right about one thing—it doesn’t matter, as long as she stands on our side.”
Bai Chuchu smiled with satisfaction. “Think about it. One woman treats her warmly—someone who could actually make her dreams come true—and the other gives her the cold shoulder like a vinegar jar reborn. Tell me, which one will she side with?”
“I understand,” Yuxue said with a grin. “Your Ladyship truly thinks of everything.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bai Chuchu said lightly. “But when a situation can be maneuvered, one must plan carefully. Opportunities don’t just fall from the sky.”
With that, she let Yuxue fasten her cloak, twirled twice before the mirror, lifted her chin, and strode proudly out the door.
In just two days it would be the Qingming Festival. The rear garden was full of blossoming flowers and fresh willow greens, the very picture of early spring’s grace and charm.
Bai Chuchu walked beside Lin Zhuo, admiring his tall and elegant figure. The soft spring breeze brushed past her sleeves, and she felt that her future—like this garden—was bright and full of color.
Lost in pleasant thoughts, she suddenly heard Xile murmur in surprise, “Your Highness—it’s the Princess Consort.”
Princess Consort?
Those two words hit her like a hailstone to the head. Rage instantly welled up within Bai Chuchu, her jealousy flaring: all her careful schemes, all her planning, ruined because of that woman. She had finally managed to get close to the prince—why was that woman here again to spoil it? Was it not enough that she already had his favor? Must she take everything and leave no room for anyone else to breathe?
Her whole body trembled with anger when Lin Zhuo’s calm voice sounded beside her. “The princess consort is here too? Hmm? What are they doing?”
“I’m not sure,” Xile replied. “It looks like they’re pointing at those big locust trees. The princess consort seems amused—smiling so brightly. Strange, what could be so funny about a few trees?”
In the pavilion ahead, Ruan Mianmian and the maids Fangcao and Xiahe were indeed pointing toward several large trees outside, laughing so hard that they swayed like willow branches in the breeze.
Lin Zhuo couldn’t help but be affected by the joy in her laughter. The corners of his mouth curved unconsciously. Turning to Bai Chuchu, he said, “Come on, let’s go take a look.”
Bai Chuchu, of course, didn’t want to. But when the prince gave an order, her opinion didn’t matter. Even if he had asked, she wouldn’t dare object. Besides, this was her chance to redeem herself.
So she swallowed her bitterness, forced a bright smile, and said quickly, “Of course! My elder sister is always so busy—I hardly see her except when paying respects. It’s rare to have a chance to grow closer.”
Xile glanced at his master but saw no change in Lin Zhuo’s expression. He quickly looked down again, secretly curling his lips in a silent smirk.
As they drew closer, they saw the source of the commotion—there were several bird nests in the trees, and just then, two baby birds had fallen to the ground, flapping their wings helplessly, unable to fly.
When Lin Zhuo and the others were still ten steps away, they heard Fangcao’s delighted voice. “Your Ladyship, look! Another one’s poked its head out!”
“Truly fearless little things,” Ruan Mianmian laughed gleefully. “What do you suppose they’re after? Why are they all in such a hurry to jump out? Could there be bugs on the ground already?”
“There might be,” Xiahe said with a chuckle. “At the start of spring thunder, most insects wake and come out of their holes. Though these locust trees have only just sprouted, there may be plenty of bugs on the ground. I even saw a butterfly in the garden the other day.”
“That must have come from the greenhouse,” Ruan Mianmian replied. “It’s too early for wild butterflies.”
As she spoke, yet another fledgling edged toward the rim of the nest—and tumbled straight out headfirst.
“Ah!” came a startled cry behind her, followed by a flurry of movement. Someone had lifted her skirts and was running toward the fallen chicks.
Ruan Mianmian froze for a second, then realized what was happening. “Stop! Don’t touch them!” she called urgently.
Bai Chuchu sneered inwardly. What perfect timing! Heaven itself is helping me. The prince’s consort had revealed her true colors at last—so jealous she couldn’t even let someone rescue helpless birds. Let’s see who looks virtuous now.
“Your Highness, stop her!” Ruan Mianmian called anxiously, turning to Lin Zhuo in distress.
Lin Zhuo looked at her in confusion. Why forbid anyone to help? Was this the same woman who had sown seeds to feed sparrows in her courtyard?
Even as he wondered, his body reacted faster than thought. With a flick of his toe, he kicked two small stones, which struck precisely at the bend of Bai Chuchu’s knees.
She was just about to reach the baby birds when her legs went numb—and she dropped to the ground, kneeling with a loud thud.
Gasps and exclamations erupted behind her. Bai Chuchu’s mind went blank. The prince… he made me kneel? In front of everyone? No, she couldn’t believe it. Impossible. The prince would never humiliate her like that—would he?
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”
Ruan Mianmian rushed forward, covering her mouth in feigned horror. “I—I didn’t mean for that to happen. Why didn’t you listen when I told you to stop? You mustn’t pick up the birds! I swear, it wasn’t intentional. I’m so sorry!”
As she spoke, she hurriedly helped Bai Chuchu up, sincerely apologizing over and over.
Savage, the maids thought, all stunned. One word from the princess consort, and the side concubine was literally on her knees. If that had happened to them, they wouldn’t show their faces for three days—no, even three hours under the blankets would be too soon.
“You’re saying this wasn’t on purpose?”
Bai Chuchu glared at Ruan Mianmian, her face purple with humiliation. That single kneel had shattered her pride to pieces—she forgot even the propriety between them.
“It really wasn’t!” Ruan Mianmian insisted. “You have to believe me! Why would I want to embarrass you? Oh—wait, maybe it’s not even embarrassing! It’s just that His Highness… well, it all happened too fast. He couldn’t grab you in time, and he didn’t have a rope with him—otherwise he could have caught you by the waist—”
She stopped abruptly, realizing that image didn’t sound any better. Seeing the beautiful side concubine’s tears threatening to fall, she decided silence was the wiser option.
“Enough. It’s not such a big deal.”
Lin Zhuo’s deep voice cut through the tension. He stepped forward, face calm but unreadable, and turned to Ruan Mianmian. “If those young birds fell, why didn’t you pick them up and return them to the nest?”
“Your Highness,” Ruan Mianmian replied earnestly, “it’s common for baby birds to fall. Their mothers usually come back to carry them to safety. But if people handle them—even wrapped in cloth—the strange scent sticks to them, and many bird mothers will abandon their chicks. And such tiny fledglings rarely survive if raised by hand. So when my maids and I saw them fall, I told them not to touch—just to keep watch and make sure no stray cats got close.”
(End of Chapter)