He actually spoke? She had thought he was simply the kind of man who disliked talking.
Yun Qiya stopped in her tracks. “If you mean the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Rites, then yes—he is indeed my uncle.”
The man’s gaze swept over the hem of her damp skirt, and he gave a slight nod. “You may go.”
Yun Qiya couldn’t quite place his identity. If he were of low rank, why did his attendant wear black boots forbidden to commoners? Yet if he were of exalted status, why was he fishing alone by the lake, sickly and unattended? Whatever his station, anyone permitted to fish in Princess Rongshan’s villa was certainly no ordinary person.
Yun Qiya had no wish to pry further. Too much curiosity was rarely a good thing. “I take my leave.”
Though her hands were already clean, she still felt a faint fishy smell lingering on her palms, and resolved to wash them twice more. She retraced her steps slowly. Just as she passed through the jagged rockery, someone suddenly collided with her chest. The girl was decked out in pearls and jade, and even through layers of fabric, the ornaments jabbed Yun Qiya painfully.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” The girl shoved her away angrily, while the maids behind her scrambled to straighten her dress and headpiece.
“Miss, beauty doesn’t give you the right to twist truth into falsehood.” Yun Qiya rubbed the sore spot where the ornaments had struck, bent down, picked up a fallen golden hairpin, and handed it back to the girl.
When she heard the words “pretty and beautiful,” the girl’s anger froze on her face. The corners of her lips twitched upward, then pressed back down, and only after a moment did she manage to school her expression. Taking the golden hairpin from Yun Qiya’s palm, she softened her tone: “I’m in a good mood today, so I won’t hold this against you.”
She was about to say more when her gaze shifted to the hair ornament at Yun Qiya’s temple. “Why are you here alone, not playing with the other guests?”
“I’ve only just returned to the capital and don’t know the other young ladies well yet.” Yun Qiya noticed her calling the others “guests,” and from that she roughly guessed the girl’s identity.
Princess Rongshan had only one daughter, cherished like a pearl in her palm, so she named her Mingzhu—Pearl.
“You came to the villa by yourself?” Lu Mingzhu asked curiously.
“I came here with my elder sister from the Song family, Song Daowan.” Yun Qiya saw that once she mentioned Song Daowan, Lu Mingzhu’s expression grew noticeably friendlier.
“So you’re Daowan’s friend.” Lu Mingzhu smiled. “Just yesterday Daowan told me she wanted to introduce a friend to me. I didn’t expect it would be you.”
Song Daowan’s friend might walk without watching the road, but at least she had good taste.
No one is perfect, after all. Such a small flaw was easy enough to overlook.
By the time Song Daowan finished discussing cultivation insights with Princess Rongshan and came out, Yun Qiya and Lu Mingzhu were already sitting together in the warm pavilion, drinking tea and playing chess.
Neither of them was any good at the game. Heads bent close together, they pushed pieces back and forth across the board, without producing anything resembling a proper match.
“You already took back one move just now.”
“And you did too.”
“I only retracted three times—you did it one more time than me!”
Song Daowan was puzzled. She hadn’t even introduced them, so how had they ended up together?
The maid in the warm pavilion lit up with relief when she saw Song Daowan arrive. “Miss Song, you’re here.”
With Miss Song present, her young lady and Miss Yun surely wouldn’t keep bickering.
“Hmph!” Lu Mingzhu tossed her piece back into the box. “If it weren’t for you being friends with Sister Song, I wouldn’t play with you at all.”
“If it weren’t for your pretty face, I wouldn’t play with you either.” Yun Qiya threw her piece back as well and turned away from Lu Mingzhu.
But Lu Mingzhu’s lips couldn’t help curving upward.
Song Daowan watched her quarrel with Yun Qiya, only to quarrel herself into looking like a little fish with its mouth turned up. She quietly swallowed the words she’d meant to use to smooth things over.
Judging by this, within half a cup of tea’s time, Lu Mingzhu would coax herself back into cheer.
“Forget it, I’m half a year older than you—I won’t hold it against you.” Lu Mingzhu told the maid to put the board away and beckoned Song Daowan to come sit with them.
Song Daowan fell silent—turns out it hadn’t even taken half a cup of tea. As the eldest of the three, she stayed with them for another good half hour before rising to take Yun Qiya home.
For once, Lu Mingzhu actually walked them to the door. She turned to Yun Qiya and said, “Yun Qiya, tomorrow there’s a new dance performance at the capital’s music hall. Are you coming?”
“I’ll come.” Yun Qiya nodded. “Remember to send someone to fetch me from Marquis Chengping’s residence.”
“Fine, since you’re so eager.” Lu Mingzhu pressed her lips into a smile. “You’ve just returned to the capital and don’t know a thing. I’ll broaden your horizons, so people won’t call you a country bumpkin.”
Climbing into the carriage, Yun Qiya leaned out with a grin. “Thank you, Sister Lu, for thinking of me.”
Before Lu Mingzhu could respond, she ducked back inside.
Watching the carriage roll away, Lu Mingzhu’s carefully restrained lips finally broke into a smile. She lifted her chin toward the maid beside her. “At least she knows her manners—she called me sister.”
One of the maids behind her quickly flattered, “Miss, you’re His Highness’s treasured pearl. She’s only a marquis’s granddaughter; of course she should show you respect.”
“But when we were playing chess just now, she didn’t show me any respect.” Lu Mingzhu glanced back at the maid who spoke, her smile fading. “Take her away. She won’t be serving at my side anymore.”
By now, dusk was falling. Attendants carrying lanterns approached the lakeside, but dared not come too close. They only whispered, “My lord, the night air is chilly. The Princess invites you to join her for supper.”
The prince disliked attendants hovering near him, so they never dared approach freely.
The man sitting quietly by the lake stirred. His attendants, seeing this, let out a breath of relief and hurried forward. They were surprised to see fish in the bucket. The prince had been fishing here for three days, and this was the first time they had seen a catch—two fish, no less.
“Your Highness, shall these two be released?” One attendant held the bucket, ready to pour them back into the lake. But he waited in vain for the prince’s command.
“Braised for the big one, steamed for the small.” The man set down his rod and rose. The night wind was biting; even wrapped in a heavy cloak, he felt the cold seep in from every seam. He pulled the cloak tighter, took up a lantern himself, and strolled forward at an unhurried pace. On a large stone, he spotted a sash of pale bamboo-green silk. Half of it hung over the stone; half trailed into the water, drifting like spring willow branches and carrying a trace of its owner’s lively spirit.
Seeing the prince’s gaze fixed on the sash, an attendant bent to pick it up. He raised a hand to stop him, his eyes sweeping past the attendants before settling on a palace maid. “You.”
The maid lifted the sash, wiped away the mud and water, and presented it to the prince.
“Keep it safe.” He stepped aside and moved on, putting more and more distance between himself and the sash.
Its color was far too bright. Why let something so vivid be tainted by the misfortune of a man already nearing his end?
“Your Highness, Prince Ruining has sent word—he has returned to his quarters to rest. You need not wait for him.”
At the servant’s words, Princess Rongshan sighed softly. She feared she could not fulfill the Empress’s request. Even today’s lively gathering had failed to stir her nephew’s curiosity. What remedy could she possibly have left?
Back at the Marquis’s residence, Yun Qiya discovered her sash was missing. But such adornments were merely decorations for a young lady’s attire. Lost was lost.
“You went with Miss Song to Princess Rongshan’s villa today?” Wen Yuxiu poured her a cup of warm milk. “How did you find it?”
“Each flower blooms in its own way.” Yun Qiya lifted the cup and sipped lightly. “Every young lady spoke and acted with great propriety.”
“It’s good that you can see these things.” Wen Yuxiu smiled. “In time, you’ll grow accustomed to life in the capital.”
“The capital is wonderful—there are the most fashionable ornaments, the finest fabrics.” Yun Qiya drained the milk in one go. “Mother, I truly like the capital.”
She did not believe that liking beautiful things, or preferring a more splendid place, was any kind of fault or shame.
“If you like it, you must grow familiar with it—learn its rules, and within those rules find the path most comfortable for yourself.” Wen Yuxiu took out a handkerchief to wipe her daughter’s mouth. “Go to bed early tonight. Don’t hide under the covers sneaking a look at storybooks.”
“It’s all the fault of the capital’s storybooks—they’re too good!” Yun Qiya gave a guilty grin. “I’ll definitely sleep early tonight.”
After all, she wasn’t wrong. The fault lay with the things that tempted her.
“Let’s hope you keep your word.” Wen Yuxiu trusted her daughter’s promise only halfway—any more would be against her conscience.
Once her mother left, Yun Qiya burrowed into her cozy quilt, pulled out the unfinished storybook from beneath her pillow, and accepted a plate of peeled melon seeds from He Lu.
“He Lu, come here.” Yun Qiya shifted over, leaving space for her maid.
“Miss, Madam just told me—if you stay up late reading again, she’ll dock my monthly pay.” He Lu spoke pitifully, but her head was already leaning closer.
“It’s fine. Your wages have already been docked for the next two years. Debts don’t matter when there are too many.” Yun Qiya patted her purse. “I have money now. I’ll support you.”
“Yes, Miss.” He Lu barely resisted, then happily joined her in reading.
When the two finished the book, they felt a little disappointed—the ending hadn’t satisfied them.
“Miss, time to sleep.” He Lu tucked the quilt around Yun Qiya and lowered the bed curtains.
One thing about the story didn’t sit right: why should a beautiful girl who only wanted a good life end up with no happy ending at all?
She opened the lamp cover, blew out the candle, and lay down on her own bed in the outer room. Beneath her pillow was a hard little purse, stuffed full with silver. Miss must have prepared it for her in secret—Miss was truly kind.
He Lu clutched the purse under her quilt and giggled to herself. She wished her young lady would always live a good life, never tasting hardship.
“Ah!” The next morning, Yun Qiya dragged herself painfully onto Lu Mingzhu’s carriage. “My dear Sister Mingzhu, this is far too early.”
“What were you doing last night?” Seeing Yun Qiya half-dead with exhaustion, Lu Mingzhu handed her a pastry.
“Reading storybooks… a little too late.” Yun Qiya edged closer, leaning against Lu Mingzhu for warmth.
Lu Mingzhu noted her pale, makeup-free face—she truly hadn’t slept enough, not even time to paint her brows.
“I told you I’d take you out to broaden your horizons today, yet you stayed up late. Did you even take my words to heart?” Lu Mingzhu pinched her cheek.
All this fuss over mere storybooks—such obsession! Truly a little country bumpkin who’s never seen the world. Hmm? But this little bumpkin’s face was smooth and tender, quite pleasant to touch—one more pinch.
Yun Qiya covered her face and turned away from Lu Mingzhu’s hand, half-dozing, unwilling to move. Suddenly the carriage jolted to a stop, nearly sending Lu Mingzhu tumbling—only for Yun Qiya to catch her back.
Outside, a man in plain robes had collapsed right in front of the carriage.
At the sight, Yun Qiya’s drowsiness vanished.
Even unconscious, his dark hair brushed lightly across his face, revealing and concealing his handsome features. His waist was slender, his legs long, his fingers finely jointed.
She glanced sideways at Lu Mingzhu—what a perfectly staged beauty trap.
“Move him aside.” Lu Mingzhu waved impatiently, ordering the servants to carry the man away.
Such bad luck, so early in the morning. No one was going to delay her mission of showing this little bumpkin the world.