Cuiguo’s hand trembled, almost tipping over the small cosmetic box. “Lord Cui?”
“Perhaps he isn’t at His Majesty’s place today?”
“Whether he is at the Golden Throne Hall is irrelevant.”
Princess Ming Zhao applied an even darker shade of powder under her eyes, blending it carefully. “What matters is that this reaches his ears.”
“If Imperial Father worries for me and wants to appoint a teacher to correct me, then he is the most suitable candidate.”
She studied her pale, weak face in the mirror. “The sickness must be convincing, convincing enough that someone like him sees me and feels I am pitiful, yet in need of strict guidance.”
“How can one hand over the teaching rod with confidence if the act isn’t thorough?”
Cuiguo nodded, half-understanding.
…
The side hall of the Golden Throne Hall was much warmer, with a brazier burning brightly.
Princess Ming Zhao had changed out of the practical riding attire, putting on a plain lotus-colored cross-collared skirt and jacket. The outer padded coat was thin, making her figure appear even more delicate.
Her face bore a carefully crafted sickly pallor; her lips were nearly colorless, and her steps carried an air of frailty.
Emperor Ming Chong descended the steps of the throne in several brisk strides and caught his daughter’s arm.
“Awu!” The hand holding her arm felt slender and icy beneath the fabric.
She had deliberately washed her hands and face with cold water before leaving her quarters.
“How have you become like this?” the old eunuchs from the Reflection Hall asked, glaring.
“How did you serve her? I entrusted the Reflection Hall to look after the Princess, and you left her in this state?”
The old eunuchs knelt in fear. “Your Majesty, please calm your anger. It is the Princess’s own choice—she refused to use more charcoal, insisted on minimal heat, and could not sleep soundly at night… the wind caught her…”
“Imperial Father,” Princess Ming Zhao interjected in time, “don’t blame them—it is my own body that fails me.”
She forced a fragile expression. “Imperial Father, the fault that day was mine. I should not have acted so impulsively.”
Emperor Ming Chong looked at her pale little face, his voice choking. “It is Imperial Father’s failure, unable to protect you, that allowed you to suffer so.”
“No,” Princess Ming Zhao shook her head lightly. “Lord Cui was right. It was my misbehavior, my lack of understanding of rules, that caused trouble and put Imperial Father in difficulty.”
Emperor Ming Chong froze. “Cui Qing?”
“Lord Cui said I was young and hot-tempered. Over the past few days, I have come to understand.”
“I grew up in Lingyang without supervision and did not understand courtly rules. That is why I caused trouble wherever I went, worrying Imperial Father.”
She said earnestly, “I cannot continue like this. I must have a proper princess tutor to teach me rules and etiquette, so as not to disgrace Imperial Father.”
Emperor Ming Chong was both surprised and delighted. He nodded repeatedly, his hand trembling as he held hers.
“Good, Awu truly understands. Wanting to learn is a tremendous step!”
“I will find the finest female tutor in all of Ye City—no, the entire Da Xian—someone to teach etiquette, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting…”
“Imperial Father,” Princess Ming Zhao shook her head lightly, a worried expression on her face, “an ordinary tutor won’t suffice.”
“Why?”
“My temperament is too wild. A regular teacher would neither control me nor dare to try.”
“Moreover, Lord Cui saw my mistakes instantly and spoke with reason.”
“I thought, since he can see my shortcomings…”
Her gaze burned toward Emperor Ming Chong. “Why not have Lord Cui himself teach me?”
“He is learned, upright, and serves as Grand Preceptor to my younger brother. If he can guide me, I will focus, learn proper etiquette, and avoid causing trouble again.”
Emperor Ming Chong suddenly understood fully—Awu had not given up.
“Awu,” he sighed, his joy turning into concern, “Cui Qing is Chancellor, busy with daily affairs. How could he be called freely to teach the Princess?”
“Besides, you know his temperament; he may not even agree.”
Princess Ming Zhao looked at her father, knowing he understood her scheme, and no longer hid it.
She tugged gently at his sleeve, her intentionally weak expression softened by a glint of mischief.
“Imperial Father, rest assured, I have a plan.”
“As long as you issue a decree or give me a proper excuse to request his guidance, whether Lord Cui agrees…”
Her eyes curved, meaning clear.
“I may not have learned much in Lingyang, but I am strong and persistent.”
“He has rules and etiquette, and I have the strength and means to make him willing to teach.”
…
In the Secretariat office, Cui Weijin sat behind a desk, holding a report regarding the delayed winter taxes of several northern counties. He was about to mark it when a clerk in blue official attire stepped in quietly, bowing.
“Sir, the Princess of Lin’an is outside and wishes to see you.”
“Please have her step into the courtyard to speak.”
Cui Weijin looked up. “The Princess? What is she here for?”
The clerk lowered his head further. “The Princess did not say—she only requested to see you.”
Cui Weijin set down his brush. “Understood.”
Outside the office was a long corridor connecting the main halls and the courtyard.
Cui Weijin turned a corner and saw the outer courtyard garden—a small space for officials’ brief respite.
The garden had little scenery. In deep winter, the plants were withered, except for an aged wax plum tree in a corner, its sparse branches adorned with pale yellow blossoms.
Beneath the tree stood the figure he sought.
She wore a pale pink plain cross-collared skirt, a moon-white padded jacket over it. Her hair was loosely coiled and secured with a white jade hairpin, strands falling around her neck. She tilted her head slightly, gazing at the wax plum blossoms, her profile serene under the winter sunlight.
A gust of wind stirred the courtyard, shaking the old tree and scattering a few petals gently down.
The petals brushed against her hair and shoulders.
Wind, falling petals, and the girl gazing up—strikingly beautiful in the stark winter garden.
“Not bad. This spot took me three rounds around your shabby office courtyard to pick!”
“The lighting, the falling petals, this plain outfit I changed into—perfect.”
“Will this scene not make him pause in surprise? Today I present the ‘pitiful but charming’ look!”
Cui Weijin froze.
The girl seemed to sense his gaze, slowly turning her head.
Strands of hair stuck to her cheek in the wind; her lips curved slightly into a soft, delicate smile directed at him.
Petals continued to drift around her.
“Spellbound, aren’t you, man?”
“This Princess uses a little trick—let’s see if you, this block of ice, can melt a bit!”
Cui Weijin: “…”