"Have Xie Yujin come out personally to receive me."…
Song Zhiluan turned her head in delight, almond-shaped eyes clear and bright, "Imperial Brother!"
The young man entering the hall wore a four-clawed golden dragon robe, his features bearing fifty percent resemblance to Song Zhiluan, even the faint aura of illness between his brows was strikingly similar.
Song Huaizhang placed his hand on his younger sister's shoulder, his voice tinged with helplessness: "Rise. Father Emperor wants you to go to the Imperial Garden."
Song Zhiluan was surprised: "Imperial Brother, did you plead for me? Father Emperor is letting me rise?"
Song Huaizhang knelt down, looking at her face as he said: "Xiao Luan, I know you like General Xie, but the methods you used were somewhat excessive. When you face Father Emperor, you must properly admit your mistakes to him. Do not disobey Father Emperor, remember?"
"Effective methods are good methods," Song Zhiluan turned her head away: "Imperial Brother said you would help me, yet there hasn't been any movement. I could only proceed with my own approach."
"Your temperament," Song Huaizhang appeared resigned: "How many times have I told you, you mustn't be impatient. Once you rush, thousands will be waiting for you to make mistakes. Xiao Luan, in this palace, only you are my blood relative. Even for your Imperial Brother's sake, you must value yourself."
Song Huaizhang had once taken an arrow to his chest. Though he fortunately recovered, the injury occasionally acted up.
Remaining in this half-kneeling position could easily aggravate the wound. Song Zhiluan helped him stand up, her own knees somewhat painful from kneeling. She took two steps and sat on the jade mat, smoothing her skirt as she did so, though it was unclear if she had truly taken his words to heart.
Above the wide sleeves, golden patterns were intricate. After standing up, Song Huaizhang slowly retrieved Song Zhiluan's hand from within them. Both had poor health—one with old wounds not fully healed, the other with acquired damage to her foundation—so their body temperatures were always similarly cool. Holding hands now, Song Zhiluan couldn't feel any warmth, as if holding a cool inkstone.
She tightened her grip, somewhat worried: "These days when the Imperial Physicians checked your pulse, did they say anything?"
"All the same old talk with different packaging, nothing worth hearing," the young man said dismissively: "When I was twenty, court physicians already said my pulse showed ten beats with one missed—a sign of critical condition. Now three years have passed, and haven't I still stood well before you?"
"A bunch of quacks," Song Zhiluan snorted, a faint shadow passing through her eyes, "Imperial Brother and Imperial Sister are both blessed people, destined to live long lives. Among us siblings, having one short-lived like me is enough. If everyone suffered poor health, wouldn't it seem like some curse brought upon our bloodline by human wrongdoing?"
"Xiao Luan." Song Huaizhang gently interrupted her.
Song Zhiluan withdrew her hand into her sleeve to warm it. After a moment of quiet, she smiled: "Didn't those mages say? Our Song family is born of celestial nobility, how could such minor verbal transgressions take effect? Imperial Brother need not worry."
Outside the window, kingfishers flew past. Watching their tail feathers, she returned to the main matter: "Father Emperor actually only made me kneel for two hours? I thought it would be at least two or three days. Imperial Brother, how did you plead with Father Emperor? Teach me some techniques too? So I can learn for future reference."
Two or three days would have been light punishment. Song Zhiluan rarely saw Father Emperor angry. This time she had tied up Xie Yujin—she didn't even dare imagine what punishment she might receive.
Hearing this, Song Huaizhang walked wearily to the desk, instructing attendants to bring a warming pot, medicinal oil, and pour hot tea. He said slowly: "I didn't plead for mercy earlier. I merely asked Father Emperor, with the Xi Yi internal turmoil imminent, when can we dispatch troops to bring Imperial Sister back."
Song Zhiluan instinctively held her breath. "Did Father Emperor say he would bring elder sister back? Did he say it himself?"
"Back then, had Xi Yi not sent troops to contain the northwest, Father Emperor would have found it difficult to enter the Central Plains. The marriage alliance was a national covenant. Now that the King of Xiyi's power is about to change hands, our Jiang Dynasty faces enemies both north and south. Everyone is waiting for the right moment to unify the world," Song Huaizhang paused for a few breaths before continuing, "There are some difficulties, but I will do my best to persuade him."
Song Zhiluan said, "Father Emperor dotes on you, he will surely agree. Someone as exquisite and brilliant as elder sister—Father Emperor wouldn't bear to leave her in that barbaric land, right?"
"Father Emperor clearly dotes on you more. If royal elder sister can return, it will certainly be your merit."
A strange emotion tinged Song Zhiluan's smile. "Oh, then does what royal brother promised me still hold?"
Song Huaizhang took medicinal oil from a palace maid and instructed someone to apply it for her.
"Naturally."
That night, after Song Zhiluan finished receiving her admonishment and accepted the imperial decree, the palace gates had already been locked. It was a quarter past midnight when she finally retired to Qiwu Palace. The next day, she spent half the day copying scriptures in the palace hall and wasn't released until evening.
This punishment outcome delighted her beyond expectation—for the first time in her life, she honestly copied a full stack of Buddhist sutras.
During the New Year festivities, those seeking Xie Yujin were more numerous than ever. He wasn't in the manor, and no one knew his whereabouts. Despite Song Zhen's efforts to mediate, numerous rumors had long been circulating.
The Emperor's sudden marriage arrangement, coupled with the fact that punishing her too severely would inevitably spark speculation both inside and outside the court, resulted in only one day of confinement, with accounts to be settled later.
Song Zhiluan never bothered to think about what the future might hold—she believed in enjoying the present moment. The moment she left the palace gates, she even forgot Song Huaizhang's instructions and headed straight for Xie Duke Manor under cover of night.
The moonlight was particularly bright.
Two guards stood outside Xie Duke Manor. Seeing the procession of the princess's pheasant-feathered carriage, they didn't dare neglect their duties and sent someone to report from afar.
The manor steward came to greet her. "May Linghuai Princess be blessed. The General has already retired for the night. Please wait a moment and rest in the main hall."
Song Zhiluan, holding her maid's hand, emerged from the curtain but didn't alight from the carriage. Looking down with arms crossed, she said, "You may go rest. Tell your General Xie to come welcome me in person."
The manor steward broke out in a cold sweat, thinking to himself that the young master must have somehow offended this willful Second Princess again—this situation was beyond their ability to handle. He nodded in acknowledgment and sent two more people to the bedchamber to summon him.
After roughly the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Xie Yujin emerged. His light-colored eyes cast a glance toward the young girl sitting stubbornly in the pheasant-feathered carriage.
Taking advantage of the curfew that left the roads empty, Song Zhiluan lay on the soft cushions, playing with the bead bracelet on her left wrist. Beneath the light gauze, a section of her fair arm shone conspicuously white.
Only when she heard the guards announce his arrival did she sit up, finding the right direction to ask, "What took you so long?"
The handsome youth with an indifferent expression wore only inner garments, standing quietly on the steps watching her. A plain belt tied loosely around his waist still revealed his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The night breeze billowed through his sleeves, and his voice carried a chill.
"Has Your Highness had enough of making a scene?"
"Can't you come up with something new to say?" A smile had already spread across Song Zhiluan's face. "What are you standing at the door for? Come quickly and help this princess down from the carriage!"
The Duke Manor's staff had long grown accustomed to such scenes, everyone keeping their heads bowed, not daring to glance up.
The Linghuai Princess, the Sage Emperor's most beloved daughter, behaved recklessly with everyone yet always met with cold rejection from their young master. Strangely, she never tired of it, coming to provoke the young master every few days.
While everyone was lost in their thoughts, Xie Yujin had already reached the carriage. Before he could extend his hand, Song Zhiluan jumped down.
As expected, she was caught steadily in his arms.
Having succeeded in her scheme, Song Zhiluan's smile grew even brighter, though she deliberately feigned innocence. "Xie Yujin, didn't you say you dislike me? If so, why are you holding me so tightly?"
Xie Yujin immediately released her and strode toward the manor.
"Wait for me!"
"You've received the imperial decree, haven't you? I'm your betrothed now—how can you just walk off like that?"
Song Zhiluan retrieved a box from Zhinu and called after his retreating figure, "You're the one who's angry? I'm not even upset that you threw away the gift I gave you."
Xie Yujin had never discarded anything she'd given him.
Once, she'd gifted him a water gourd. He cut his lip while drinking from it, and only then did Song Zhiluan notice a chip on the rim. When she tried to throw it away, Xie Yujin snatched it back, giving her a cool glance as he said, "I'm used to it. Can't be bothered to change."
This time, she must have gone too far.
Overwhelmed with guilt, Song Zhiluan lifted her skirt and hurried after him, clutching the hem of his robe. "My father has promised that becoming my consort won't harm your career. You'll only need to move into the Princess Manor—I swear I won't let you suffer any grievances. Believe me."
Xie Yujin tugged his robe free from her grasp. Beyond his usual aloofness, there was now a trace of another emotion, and Song Zhiluan detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"Such magnanimous grace. How does Your Highness expect this subject to express his gratitude?"
"There's no need… no need for thanks! I noticed you've planted many crabapple trees in your manor—do you like them? I've already planted some in mine. In a few years, they'll be lush and full."
The young man walked away without a hint of tenderness. Song Zhiluan rushed to pull him back but stumbled, crashing into his back. Fighting back the sharp pain in her nose, she quickly said, "If you don't like my residence, then I'll move to Guo Gong Fu? After we marry, you can stay at my manor for a few days first to avoid gossip—those censors are always meddling. Once some time has passed, I'll move here permanently."
"No—we! We'll live here together."
"I know our marriage was forced through dishonorable means, but I'll make it up to you. I'll treat you well, better than anyone else."
By the time she finished speaking, Xie Yujin had already reached the courtyard before his bedchamber.
It seemed he had no intention of inviting her to the main hall for tea.
After a moment's thought, Song Zhiluan lightly scratched the box with her nail. The echoes of her apology still lingered, yet she was about to anger him again. Her voice weakened as she said, "Xie Yujin, may I enter your bedchamber?"
The surrounding air grew instantly colder.
Song Zhiluan hurriedly clarified, "Don't misunderstand—I have no intention of sleeping with you! It's just… this gift… I'd be too embarrassed to present it out here."
A cold sneer surfaced on Xie Yujin's face. "A gift unfit for the light of day? This subject is unworthy."
"No… well, yes." Struggle and shame twisted together like ropes, tangling her thoughts. But before she could finish, Xie Yujin pushed open the door to his bedchamber.
At that moment, the sound of a lock opening and a box hitting the ground echoed through the courtyard.
Then Song Zhiluan's anxious voice rang out—
"It's a confession letter! This is the confession letter I wrote for you!"
Xie Yujin halted, turning halfway to gaze at her with detached indifference.
Under the full moon, the young woman stood in a lychee-colored wide-sleeved Ru skirt, her double-loop bun tied with red ribbons.
Moonlight sifted through the crabapple tree beside her.
Shadows drifted slowly across her lowered brows and lashes.
A breeze rose, and a green leaf fluttering down from the tree brushed against the letter in her hand before slipping to the ground.
Even the moonlight couldn’t conceal Song Zhiluan’s flushed face as she struggled to maintain composure.
At the sight of her own handwriting on the page, Song Zhiluan nearly choked on her breath.
Just kill her now—how had she written such cringe-worthy, cloying words two days ago?
It was utterly mortifying.
If she read this aloud, how could she ever face Xie Yujin again?
The letter was nearly crumpled in her grip, but there was no turning back now. Closing her eyes, Song Zhiluan steeled herself and began reading, her tone resolute as if marching to her doom: “Reading this letter is like seeing me in person. With our wedding approaching, and in light of my past wrongdoings, I wish to make a promise to express my resolve.”
“I swear I will no longer resort to unscrupulous means to pressure you. Nor will I, while having feelings for someone, invite performers to sing for my amusement, and I will never take another male concubine.”
“I will treat you sincerely.”
Once she started, her voice gradually steadied. “Moreover, I must confess to a fault that has yet to occur. Although it is not explicitly forbidden for a consort to take concubines, I cannot bear the thought of another woman by your side. Therefore, even though the Xie ducal house has few heirs, you may only have children with me—regardless of whether I am able to bear any.”
After finishing, Song Zhiluan sensed Xie Yujin’s gaze fixed on her. Uncharacteristically, she did not look back. Instead, she touched her burning cheeks, carefully folded the letter, and placed it solemnly into a small box. Her voice dropped several tones lower than before: “I’ve said all I need to say. Keep this safe. If you lose it again, I will truly be angry.”
Under the swaying tree shadows, she rose on tiptoe to place the box on a branch. Then, steadying her racing heart, she retraced her steps.
Her ruqun gown shimmered with iridescent hues.
At first, she walked, but her pace quickened gradually. By the time she reached the gate, she had broken into a light run. The golden bells on her boots chimed softly in the wind, and her hair ribbons fluttered behind her.
She did not glance back once.
After listening, Xie Yujin had clearly already stepped toward the door when, for some reason, he turned back and retrieved the box. Once inside, he set it casually on his desk, intending to find a proper place for it the next day.
Little did he know it would remain there for ten years.
That night, Song Zhiluan had barged into his residence with blazing audacity. Xie Yujin listened quietly to her endless chatter, dismissing it as nothing more than a deafening firecracker set off before him—loud and fleeting, soon to be forgotten. Yet he never expected that the lingering sparks would ignite that snowy night, and the residual embers would seep into his very lungs. Unbeknownst to him, her voice and presence had long taken root in his soul and flesh.
Thus, many years later, on a moonlit night without her, his heart ceased to beat.