Xie Changyan had specially prepared today, dressing differently to keep his appointment.
He often moved about outside on ordinary days, and Xie Yanchuan never restricted him from making friends among the noble youths of the capital.
But today, the person he was going to see was Jiang Liuyan. A private meeting with a woman—if it were discovered, just the officials from the Ministry of Rites could fill the skies with memorials denouncing him.
These past few days, Xie Yanchuan had assigned him some tasks to handle. Xie Changyan felt he had done his best, yet when Xie Yanchuan reviewed them, he said nothing—neither scolding nor praising—only giving him a calm, inscrutable look.
“You still need more experience in the future.”
Xie Changyan respectfully agreed, but a faint bitterness welled up in his heart. He was the Crown Prince, yet when handling affairs, those officials still evaded and concealed matters, showing him little respect.
“His Highness the Crown Prince’s handling of this matter still lacks propriety.”
“The Crown Prince is still too young.”
“Young? When His Majesty ascended the throne, he was much younger than the Crown Prince.”
These were the milder comments. More unpleasant ones Xie Changyan had also heard—or rather, those people would not say them to his face.
Yet Xie Changyan felt that the gazes directed at him were filled with disdain, as if he were utterly inferior to Xie Yanchuan.
Xie Yanchuan—a wise ruler, a monarch admired for both civil and military prowess, his “imperial father” who treated him like a subject.
Xie Changyan could not help but show weariness. When Jiang Liuyan saw this, she said nothing. She knew why Xie Changyan held her in high regard: when he was with her, this Crown Prince would relax a little.
Thus, even though Jiang Liuyan was burning with anxiety, she maintained a calm demeanor, brewing tea and playing the zither by Xie Changyan’s side.
“You must have something to say to me,” Xie Changyan said, holding a cup of tea, the worry between his brows easing slightly.
“Just trivial matters. Now that Your Highness is already troubled by state affairs, I should not add to your worries.”
Jiang Liuyan’s zither playing paused briefly, her voice gentle. “Liuyan hails from Jiangnan. Would Your Highness care to listen to a Jiangnan folk tune?”
When Xie Changyan came to this teahouse, it naturally closed its doors to other guests. Throughout the entire establishment, aside from the two of them, everyone else was Xie Changyan’s own people.
Jiang Liuyan usually disdained such flattering musical performances. Though she lived under another’s roof at the Guogong Mansion, she had never abandoned the pride of her scholarly family.
But with Xie Changyan, it was different. Xie Changyan himself knew that they were special to each other.
“I’ve been away from Jiangnan for too long, so I may not sing well. Please do not laugh at me, Your Highness.”
The folk tune was in the soft Wu dialect. Xie Changyan had never heard it before, yet he felt considerably more at ease. When the song ended, Xie Changyan looked at Jiang Liuyan, his expression somewhat complex.
“Nowadays, I can only find a moment of peace here with you.”
“That is my honor,” Jiang Liuyan said, her fingertips lightly brushing the zither strings, a slight sting passing through them.
“Tell me. It’s rare for you to be anxious—it cannot be a trivial matter.” Jiang Liuyan was always measured, rarely contacting him proactively in the past. That she sought him out this time must be something significant, something she truly could not resolve on her own.
“My aunt intends to arrange a marriage for me,” Jiang Liuyan said, watching Xie Changyan’s expression change abruptly. She felt a slight relief in her heart, knowing that this Crown Prince already regarded her as his possession.
He likely would not easily allow her to marry another.
“Why so sudden?”
“Perhaps Yunshu is also eager to marry, so as her cousin, I naturally must marry ahead of her.”
Jiang Liuyan remained as calm and composed as ever. Xie Changyan watched her, his fingertips lightly tapping the rim of the cup in his hand.
“Did you come just to inform me?”
“Naturally? Even if Your Highness and I cannot be considered confidants, we should at least be counted as friends. It is only right that I inform Your Highness.”
Xie Changyan’s expression was inscrutable—neither pleased nor angry. He simply watched Jiang Liuyan in silence until the smile on her face gradually faded.
“I thought the one you wished to marry was me.”
“Your Highness, for me, that is nothing but a distant hope,” Jiang Liuyan spoke candidly, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
For her to enter the Eastern Palace, if she were the daughter of an ordinary family, it would only require a word from Xie Changyan. Yet, she was in the Guogong Mansion.
“Are you giving up so easily?” Xie Changyan could see that Jiang Liuyan harbored ambition, and he did not find this objectionable. They were, after all, kindred spirits.
“Your Highness, I have already received immense kindness from the Guogong Mansion. If I were to enter the Eastern Palace, do you know how the world would condemn me?”
Jiang Liuyan could not bear such blame. She understood better than anyone that while Pei Yunshu’s reputation was indeed “well-known” at present, if she took one wrong step, the act of snatching Pei Yunshu’s marriage would erase all the efforts she had made over the years.
She would be trampled back into the mud.
“You are not a daughter of the Guogong Mansion to begin with. You are a daughter of the Jiang family.”
Xie Changyan raised his hand, his slightly rough thumb gently tracing down from Jiang Liuyan’s forehead. She did not pull away, instead submitting to his somewhat intimate gesture.
“Marrying someone else—are you truly content with that?”
She was not content, of course she was not.
“I only need one word from you. If you are willing to enter the Eastern Palace, I will naturally make arrangements for you.”
“What about Yunshu?”
“Her?” Xie Changyan recalled Pei Yunshu. “Hasn’t she been throwing tantrums with me lately? You know I need the support of military officials.”
“I dare not trouble Your Highness, nor will I take Yunshu’s place. You can rest assured of that.”
Jiang Liuyan proactively gave her assurance. “It is merely that I do not wish to spend the rest of my life with someone I know nothing about.”
“You, at a time like this, should be pledging your loyalty to me, yet you speak such words.”
Jiang Liuyan raised her hand to pour him tea. “I thought Your Highness wished to hear the truth from me.”
“Naturally.” Xie Changyan had heard enough hypocritical words; hearing a truthful one was rare.
They were both people of deep and intricate minds, yet precisely because they recognized each other as kindred spirits, they could relax in each other’s presence, if only for a moment.
Jiang Liuyan left the teahouse, quietly boarding her carriage and departing. Xie Changyan exited through the back door, drawing no one’s attention.
“Isn’t that Liuyan?”
A woman emerged from a nearby pavilion, looking at her husband.
“Did she come to the teahouse to meet a friend?”
“What kind of friend requires renting the entire teahouse for a meeting?” Pei Zimu, the heir of the Guogong Mansion, had just returned to the capital. He had intended to prepare another gift for his younger sister at home but unexpectedly caught sight of Jiang Liuyan behaving strangely.
“After all, it is her private matter. Do not ask her directly; young ladies are often sensitive about their dignity.” Madam Lin, the wife of the heir, knew her husband’s temperament and reminded him in advance.
“If she’s a girl from our household, why can’t we ask? What if she causes trouble outside?”
Madam Lin shook her head. “Liuyan is sensitive. Some words, if you say them to Niannian, she’ll get angry with you, but it’ll pass. Yet if you say them to Liuyan, she’ll keep them bottled up inside for a long time. Don’t interfere in this matter. I’ll go talk to her later. Who knows, maybe it’s someone she has feelings for?”
“It’s improper.” Pei Zimu frowned as he uttered these words, but he did not contradict his wife.