Song Qingqian nodded, feeling an unexpected pang of sympathy for Xiao Beitang. Everyone spoke of her as a favored child of heaven, basking in boundless affection, but who could have known what she had truly endured? Had she not heard the truth today, she too would have viewed Xiao Beitang as nothing more than an arrogant, pampered aristocrat who looked down on the world.
In truth, the Princess was a tragic figure.
“Does Her Highness not know the full extent of these matters? Is that why she harbors such resentment toward the Emperor?” Song Qingqian asked.
“As a member of the Imperial family, how could she not know of the Eight Princes’ Revolt? But to endure such immense pain at such a tender age.” The Empress gazed into the distance, her face a mask of endless melancholy. “Tang’er was always lonely. It was only later that she began to frequent the company of Xiao Lin and Wanqi. Even though those two led her into many absurdities, the Emperor and I simply turned a blind eye.”
The Empress sighed. “Furthermore, because of the ‘medicine,’ Tang’er suffered terribly during her manifestation. She was unconscious for three days before she finally woke. It left her with a lasting affliction. It took her another two years just to adjust to the agony that followed. To forcibly interfere with nature is to invite a heavy price.”
“A lasting affliction?”
The Empress hurried to clarify. “Qianqian, do not misunderstand, it isn’t a problem of that nature, you will come to understand in due time. Qianqian, I liked you from the moment I saw you. You will treat Tang’er well, won’t you?” There was a note of pleading in her voice.
Song Qingqian was momentarily stunned.
The Empress smiled, perhaps realizing her words were a bit forward. “Tang’er is a child of pure character. She will treat you well. She is actually very obedient, soft-hearted, and filial.”
As the Empress continued to chatter on in praise of her daughter, Song Qingqian listened with a genuine smile. She no longer felt the Empress was merely being a protective mother; instead, she could feel the painstaking heart of a parent.
At Zichen Palace, Xiao Beitang had already returned.
Strangely enough, while she used to find the most joy outside the palace walls, today at Hundred Flowers Pavilion had been hollow. The music hadn’t sounded right, and the wine had lost its flavor.
Though she had gone in her usual plain clothes, the entire establishment treated her like a deity to be worshiped. The old atmosphere was gone. Even Linglong had been stiffly respectful, and the other girls had acted as if they were walking on thin ice. Their excessive deference made Xiao Beitang itch with discomfort; she had barely sat through half a song before rising to leave. She doubted she would want to return anytime soon.
She was annoyed, yet not quite as annoyed as she expected. It was still early, she could have sat in a teahouse or visited a gambling den but everything felt inexplicably dull. She actually wanted to go back to the palace.
She galloped back to Zichen Palace and, upon entering, began looking around as if searching for something.
Xing’er, who rarely saw her master return in broad daylight, greeted her happily. “What is Your Highness looking for?”
Xiao Beitang gave a self-conscious cough. “Nothing.” She suddenly raised her voice. “You! Go bring a lounge chair over. I want to soak up some sun.”
Xing’er was bewildered. I’m right in front of you; why are you shouting?
Xiao Beitang glanced toward the West Wing. Seeing no movement, a flash of disappointment crossed her heart. Xing’er chuckled and brought out the chair. The Princess sat down with affected laziness, closing her eyes to rest.
When Song Qingqian returned from Kunning Palace, she was surprised to find Xiao Beitang idling in the courtyard. It was uncharacteristic for her to be at Zichen Palace at this hour. Xing’er was kneeling to massage the Princess’s legs while Liu Zi kneaded her shoulders. Xiao Beitang leaned back, eyes closed.
Song Qingqian walked into the yard, her voice like a cool breeze under a warm sun. “Why has Your Highness returned so early?”
Xiao Beitang felt a tiny, imperceptible spark of joy. She opened one eye, glanced at her wife, and closed it again with a huff. “Thanks to you, everyone at Hundred Flowers Pavilion treats me like a plague. They don’t dare come near.
Boring.”
Song Qingqian chuckled and gestured for Xiao Tao to bring a chair, seating herself nearby. “Is Your Highness joking? Surely they wouldn’t dare be disrespectful to you.”
“If they were disrespectful, it might actually be an improvement,” Xiao Beitang said sarcastically. “They are as stiff as palace servants now. What’s the fun in leaving the palace if it’s just more of the same?”
Song Qingqian asked playfully, “Is that the only place Your Highness knows how to go?”
Xiao Beitang sat up, took a slow sip of tea, and sneered. “I’m just afraid your jealousy will flare up again and you’ll bring another army to my doorstep. I wouldn’t want you to tear my hideouts down one by one.”
Song Qingqian smiled. “Your Highness is being dramatic.”
The two fell silent, sitting peacefully in the courtyard. In the distance, wild geese flew south against a backdrop of a solitary setting sun, lending the scene a sense of autumnal majesty.
“The weather is quite lovely today,” Song Qingqian remarked softly.
“Mm,” Xiao Beitang replied simply.
Song Qingqian turned to look at her. The Princess had sharp, well-defined features—long, thick lashes, a high bridge to her nose, and eyes like stars beneath sword-like brows. She was lean but not frail; she looked like a rugged mountain peak and a fragile porcelain vase all at once.
Sensing the gaze, Xiao Beitang turned her head and found herself staring blankly back. Their eyes met, and Song Qingqian offered a warm, radiant smile.
Xiao Beitang felt a sudden, inexplicable flutter in her chest, as if she was slightly tipsy. Why is her gaze different? It’s tender?
As Xiao Beitang stared dizzily, Song Qingqian couldn’t help but laugh. “Is Your Highness perhaps captivated by my beauty?”
Xiao Beitang turned away, her face flushing. “Hardly! You’re being delusional.”
There was an occasional flash of youthful innocence in the Princess’s eyes. Song Qingqian grew more curious: how could someone who spent all their time in pleasure houses still possess such a childlike quality?
They sat together until dusk. The moon appeared faintly in the sky, accompanied by the first shimmering stars. A chill crept into the wind.
“Your Highness, Crown Princess, it is getting late,” Liu Zi reminded them gently. “Please go inside before you catch a cold.”
Xiao Beitang didn’t respond, only glancing at Song Qingqian.
“Yes, it is time to head in.” Song Qingqian pushed off her knees and rose slowly.
Xiao Beitang stood up as well, moving a step faster than her wife. As she turned toward the main hall, she called out loudly, “Liu Zi! Serve the meal! I’m hungry!”
Her voice was so loud it startled Song Qingqian, who simply shook her head and disappeared into her own room in the West Wing.
Xiao Beitang sat down at the table, casting casual glances toward the door. She had assumed Song Qingqian would follow her to eat together and pester her about the three-year pact.
But she had miscalculated. Song Qingqian didn’t come.
As the servants set the table, Xiao Beitang waved them away irritably. Why hasn’t she come over? Has she really given up? Xiao Beitang couldn’t figure it out. She hadn’t even made things that difficult for her yet.
Propping her head in her hands, she sat there, sullen and restless. After a moment, she stood up and paced to the door, peering out. The candlelight in the West Wing was bright, casting a clear silhouette against the window.