After returning, Nan Rao hesitated for quite a while over whether to go to the plum grove.
She had come to Luoyang to seek justice, and truly did not wish to learn too much about Chancellor Pei's private affairs.
The more she knew, the more entangled she would become, and in the end, the harder it would be to extricate herself—this was a principle she understood well.
But now she had a request to make of him. If the Chancellor was indeed busying himself on her behalf, then he could be considered her benefactor.
Toward a benefactor, it seemed improper not to go.
Perhaps she was being overly guarded, measuring a gentleman's heart with her own petty mind. Since he had said his heart held only his late wife, perhaps he had simply noticed her unease and wished to be candid with her.
With this thought, Nan Rao gritted her teeth and had Lu Ying lead her to the plum grove.
The so-called plum grove was merely a large plot of land within the Chancellor's residence where many plum trees had been planted.
Lu Ying stopped at the edge of the grove and said in a low voice, "Madam may not know this, but the Chancellor's residence has a rule—no one may enter the plum grove without permission. This servant will not go in…"
Nan Rao was momentarily taken aback. "Very well."
She took the lantern from Lu Ying's hands and walked alone into the depths of the plum grove.
The waning moon was faint, and the bitter north wind howled past her ears, sweeping through the grass and flowers, stirring up a thousand leaves and ten thousand sounds, like surging waves rolling in from all directions.
She held up the lantern and walked deeper, until she reached the very center of the grove, where a memorial tablet rested upon a long table.
"My beloved wife, Princess Huayang, Xiao Lingzhang…"
She read the inscription in a low voice.
Many strips of cloth were tied to the branches of the plum trees around her. As the lantern light advanced, it gradually illuminated the vigorous, forceful calligraphy upon them.
"Vine binds the thorn, bramble spreads the field. My love lies here—who rests with him alone?"
This was… a mourning poem?
Like one written by a devoted spouse for a partner taken too soon.
The poem was widely circulated among the common folk. Nan Rao remembered that the lines following this passage read, "Summer days, winter nights. When a hundred years have passed, I shall return to his resting place."
Clearly, this late wife held an extremely heavy place in his heart.
Nan Rao fell silent for a moment.
A clear, light voice came from behind her. "It seems you have seen everything."
She turned and saw a figure in cold white standing beneath the moonlight.
Pei Ling had changed into casual robes—loose garments with wide sleeves, draped in a crane-feather cloak. His bearing was refined and elegant as fine jade, the snow-white collar framing a face as cold as polished stone, his eyes appearing all the more clear and deep black in the darkness.
Nan Rao had imagined many things, but she had never expected that this Chancellor Pei, who seemed to occupy a high position with no weaknesses at all, would share a similar sorrow with her in this regard.
A flood of emotions welled up within her. She raised her head to look at him and said, "I never imagined that you, my lord, would be such a man of deep devotion."
Pei Ling gazed at her intently, not letting a single expression on her face escape him. Lowering his voice, he gently guided her: "In a certain sense, you and I, madam, share the same affliction."
She could not help but press her lips together, saying nothing.
So he had helped her simply because he could empathize with her situation?
With this thought, a sudden sense of guilt rose in her heart. She lowered her head and said softly, "I apologize. This common woman previously made presumptuous speculations about you, my lord, and now I have forced you to voluntarily reopen old wounds…"
"It is of no consequence."
Pei Ling turned around, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed at the plum grove before him.
"My lawful wife was the current dynasty's Princess Huayang. We married five years ago. Plum blossoms were her greatest love in life, and this place was built for her." He spoke in a calm voice. "In these five years, every time I thought of her, I would transplant a plum tree here."
Day after day, this grove had come to be.
His eyelids drooped low, as if in sorrow.
Pei Ling possessed a pair of extremely sharp, cold eyes—narrow double eyelids with upturned corners. When he smiled, they were gentle and endearing; when he did not, they were as cold and cutting as blades.
When he wore this rare expression of grief, his thick lashes hung low, and one could not help but sense an indescribable loneliness and pitifulness about him.
"Please accept my condolences."
Her soft voice came from behind him.
Pei Ling raised his eyes.
Nan Rao slowly walked around to stand before him, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes, and comforted him with sincere earnestness: "Do not be sad. I believe that your lady's spirit in heaven would also wish for you, my lord, to live well."
He let out a light "Hah," and asked, "Would she?"
"She certainly would."
She nodded solemnly. "Because you, my lord, treated your lady with true sincerity. You never wished for those misfortunes to happen either. It is only that life is unpredictable—in that moment, no one possessed the power to foresee the future."
Hearing this, he smiled faintly.
"You are quite good at comforting people."
"I speak from the bottom of my heart."
Standing in the damp, bone-piercing wind, Pei Ling's pupils clearly reflected the woman's soft, delicate features. A wisp of warm light danced across her face, as warm as the sun in winter.
She was beautiful to begin with, and at this moment she appeared all the more radiant and striking.
He suddenly recalled himself in his youth. In those days, he had been clever, articulate, and tactful. Yet beneath his seemingly elegant and handsome exterior, his true nature had been extremely solitary and proud.
He appeared to navigate social circles with ease, but in his bones, he loathed sycophantic pleasantries.
He disliked mingling with idle company even more.
He had looked coldly upon that little princess who chased after him, shouting his name, and had only thought her spoiled beyond measure.
As one of noble birth, she spent her days in idle pleasure, knowing nothing of the hardships of the common folk.
And he, born of rustic origins, had lived an extremely difficult life since childhood, tasting all the bitterness of the human world and the fickleness of its ways.
Until one time, Pei Ling was cornered by a group of bullies.
The leader mocked and belittled him to his face, insulting both his lowly birth and his recently deceased mother. Pei Ling stood his ground silently, fists clenched, not uttering a single word.
Half of the youth's profile was bathed in sunlight, his lashes slightly lowered, yet his gaze was as cold and piercing as ice.
He knew well that only by enduring what ordinary men could not endure could he walk this path to glory.
Who would have thought that at that very moment, a small stone flew past the youth's cheek.
With extreme precision—"thud"—it struck the leader square on the head.
The man clutched his forehead and snarled, "Who? Who threw that?! Come out!"
"It was I who threw it, so what?" The little princess walked out flanked by her attendants, weighing the stone in her hand and lifting her chin coldly. "Who did you say was a motherless child?"
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Seeing that it was this little troublemaker, they began to hesitate. But the leader sneered, "I was talking about Pei Ling, Huayang. Don't go claiming it for yourself."
The girl shot him a look, then waved at the maid behind her. "Mingyi! Help me beat him up good!"
Behind the little princess, the girl named Xie Mingyi rolled up her sleeves with practiced ease.
Xie Mingyi had grown up taller and more imposing than most women, skilled in horseback riding and archery, her martial arts no less formidable than any man's. She had fought countless battles on behalf of Princess Huayang. If the noble scions feared Huayang eight parts, they feared Xie Mingyi five parts, privately cursing her as Huayang's attack dog.
But none of them could beat Xie Mingyi.
In the end, the two young ladies beat that gang black and blue, venting a satisfying dose of righteous fury.
She approached Pei Ling like a triumphant young general, beaming with pride.
The youth stood motionless in place.
The sunlight was blinding, and the shadows cast by the trees fell over his dark pupils, obscuring the cold ferocity in his eyes.
Rarely, she did not pester him. Instead, she held out her handkerchief.
"Here."
The youth did not take it. He turned his face away. "Thank you, Your Highness. This subject does not need it."
She smiled, not the least bit annoyed, and rubbed her eyes with her hand, speaking as much to herself as to him: "Don't be sad."
"I'm the same as you. I don't have a mother anymore either."
The entire palace knew that the Empress had passed away five days prior.
Even the little princess, usually the most carefree of all, had worn a plain white dress that day.
The youth could not help but turn back.
His gaze drifted downward to her fingertips.
In the dead of winter, the delicate fingers of a pampered young lady had already developed frostbite.
Because she had knelt in the Buddha hall, copying sutras without rest, day and night, yet still could not save her mother.
Setting aside the vast gulf in their stations, at this moment they were the same—even one of princess rank was powerless in the face of a loved one's death.
Yet she still held back her tears to comfort him, telling him "don't be sad."
"Before she passed, my mother told me not to grieve, but to live well."
"I will live well, better than anyone, so that my mother can watch me grow up safely from above."
"Lord Pei, your mother must have wished the same."
…
The night deepened, dew heavy in the air. A sudden gust of north wind blew fiercely, sweeping up fallen petals across the ground.
Pei Ling snapped back to the present.
From his angle, he could see Nan Rao with her head lowered, struggling to conceal her expression.
He had been satisfied that she had finally let down her guard tonight, when he suddenly noticed something amiss.
"What's wrong?"
Nan Rao blinked hard, forcing back the mist in her eyes, then raised her head with a smile. "Nothing, I just… thought of my husband."
"I blamed myself too. If I had stopped my husband from going to war at all costs, would he still be alive?"
When Pei Ling heard her say this, the warmth that had just softened his gaze turned abruptly cold, and his fingers clenched fiercely within his sleeves.
He suppressed the fury rising in his chest and asked in as calm a tone as he could manage, "And now?"
Nan Rao shook her head. "I don't blame myself anymore. If I had to choose again, I think… I would still let him go."
Because Duan Xun was a scion of a military family—the sons of the Duan clan were born to fight on the battlefield and slay enemies with valor.
Knowing full well the dangers ahead, they still had to walk that path.
The night was cold.
Outside the plum grove, Yan Zhan paced back and forth with his hands tucked into his sleeves, occasionally rubbing his palms together for warmth.
At this moment, the princess and the prime minister were inside catching up on old times. The prime minister had finally coaxed the lady into coming to his residence, and with such a rare opportunity for them to be alone and foster their feelings, it naturally could not be disturbed.
So Yan Zhan stood guard here himself.
Just then, his shoulder was suddenly slapped hard.
He started and turned around, finding Di Yue, the commander of the Imperial Guard.
Di Yue had come to the prime minister's residence after finishing his shift, bearing matters from the palace to report. Hearing that the prime minister was in the plum grove, he had come straight over, only to find Yan Zhan standing guard here. Puzzled, he asked, "I say, Yan Boyu, what are you doing standing here all alone in the dead of night?"
Yan Zhan: "I—I, well…"
Chief Clerk Yan remembered the Prime Minister's instruction that the matter of the Princess could not yet be revealed to him. Now, being asked directly, even someone as eloquent as Chief Clerk Yan couldn't help but stammer slightly.
Chief Clerk Yan circled around the topic and turned the question back on him. "I'm asking you—what are you doing here this late at night? You're always disturbing the Prime Minister's peace in the dead of night."
Di Yue looked at Chief Clerk Yan with suspicion, completely unfazed by the deflection. "Are you hiding something from me?"
The more he thought about it, the more wrong it felt. He had found it strange during the day—when Chief Clerk Yan and the Prime Minister were speaking, their words seemed to carry hidden meanings.
…No, to be precise, they had all been acting oddly these past few days. First, Chief Clerk Yan was brewing medicine and buying malt sugar, constantly running to the Commandant of Justice's office. Then even the Prime Minister himself went there. Even Di Yue, who never concerned himself with outside affairs, could hear people whispering about it in secret.
What were they doing? Hiding something from him?
Chief Clerk Yan said impatiently, "In any case, stay out of it."
Unfortunately, he underestimated Di Yue's insatiable curiosity. Especially in recent years, the Prime Minister had spoiled him rotten—he was used to barging around the Prime Minister's residence as he pleased. Now he insisted on charging into the plum grove out of curiosity, and Chief Clerk Yan hurriedly blocked his path, shouting urgently, "Nonsense!"
Di Yue said, "I'm not making trouble! I just want to know what's going on. Isn't this plum grove where the Prime Minister mourns the Princess? What is he doing in there?"
This lad was accustomed to martial arts and possessed brute strength. Chief Clerk Yan, being a scholar at heart, simply couldn't hold him back. Watching him shove past and run inside, Chief Clerk Yan clutched his forehead with a look of exasperation and muttered under his breath, "This foolish boy."
On ordinary days, if Chief Clerk Yan forbade Di Yue from entering a place, Di Yue wouldn't dare barge in, afraid of ruining the Prime Minister's important matters.
But this plum grove was special.
Di Yue charged in with great haste, only to see two people standing inside, seemingly in conversation.
It was the Prime Minister.
And a… woman?
Just as Di Yue was about to speak, the woman heard his footsteps and looked over, revealing a familiar face in an instant.
Di Yue felt as if he'd been struck by lightning, frozen in place.
He stared at Nan Rao with his mouth agape, eyes wide as saucers, gazing at her as if he'd turned to stone.
"You… you…"
Nan Rao felt uncomfortable under his intense stare.
Chief Clerk Yan caught up from behind, drenched in sweat. "Prime Minister, this—this official failed in his duty…"
Pei Ling said coldly, "Withdraw."
Chief Clerk Yan hastily retreated.
Pei Ling then looked at Nan Rao and said gently, "Madam, please return for now."
Only then did Nan Rao snap back to her senses.
Why was this man in military attire staring at her so intently? And why did he look so shocked? Did he know her?
She suddenly recalled that when she first met Chief Clerk Yan at the Commandant of Justice's office, he had worn the exact same expression—as if he'd seen someone who had no business being there.
Nan Rao lowered her eyes thoughtfully, offered Pei Ling a bow, and said, "Then I shall take my leave."
With that, she calmly brushed past Di Yue's side.
Even after Nan Rao had walked far away, Di Yue remained fixated on the direction she had disappeared, lost in a daze.
"Prime Minister, she—how is she—" he stammered.
Pei Ling said flatly, "She is Huayang."
The reason Pei Ling had ordered Chief Clerk Yan to keep it from Di Yue was the fear that once he learned the Princess was in the Commandant of Justice's prison, he might act rashly out of agitation and ruin things.
Now that she was safe, there was no harm in letting Di Yue know.
But who would have thought—upon hearing this, Di Yue was struck as if by lightning, frozen in place, his face a picture of disbelief, as if he were lost in a dream.
Pei Ling found it amusing. "What, you don't recognize her?"
Few people knew that Di Yue, after being wronged and framed years ago and rescued by Princess Huayang in passing, had harbored admiration for the Princess ever since—though he never dared mention it to anyone.
He had worked hard for many years to be selected into the Imperial Guard, but shortly after, the Princess had passed away.
Di Yue was grieved and sorrowful. He secretly went outside the city to pay his respects, and happened to be seen by Pei Ling.
It was then that Pei Ling learned Di Yue had once received her kindness in his early years.
He couldn't help but feel moved.
In this world, everyone flocked to the powerful. Those who had once fawned over the Princess had all transferred their allegiance to others after her death—yet only this low-ranking military officer alone always remembered even the smallest kindness.
That was why, over the years, Pei Ling had forbidden others from entering the plum grove, but specially permitted Di Yue to come and pay his respects.
Di Yue swallowed hard. It took him a long while to process before he stammered, "This is truly Her Highness? But hasn't she already… How could…"
A person who was supposed to be dead was standing alive right before his eyes.
He wished he could raise his hand and slap himself to see if it hurt, to check whether he was dreaming.
"It is her." Pei Ling fell silent for a moment. "She has lost her memory now. For the time being, she cannot know too much. You must not let anything slip."
Di Yue immediately nodded like a pounding pestle. Somehow, he suddenly felt his limbs grow hot, as if all the blood in his body was boiling.
How wonderful.
The Princess was alive.
The Princess had returned.
"Prime Minister, may this official go see the Princess again tomorrow?" Di Yue scratched his head, unable to suppress a foolish grin as he made his request. "This official merely wishes to… confirm once more…"
Seeing how agitated and reckless Di Yue was, Pei Ling felt it was inappropriate and was about to refuse.
But then she reconsidered—Di Yue was outgoing by nature, and perhaps having him by her side would lift her spirits.
She nodded in assent. "Go, but remember—do not frighten her."