As Qingming approached, the weather had turned warm, and the streets were livelier than usual, with porters coming and going in an endless stream. After buying needles, thread, and other odds and ends, Gu Youning headed over to the book market. But to her surprise, after asking at several bookshops, she could not find a single trace of that book.
When the shop assistants heard the title, they all shook their heads and said they had never seen it, that they didn't carry it.
Gu Youning could not help feeling disappointed.
Her brother, such a handsome young man, had been crippled in the legs, yet instead of sinking into despair, he was determined to study and make something of himself, planning a path for his future. He had even been considerate of her, afraid that she might be looked down upon by her husband's family.
He had no other requests—only that she help him buy a book, yet she couldn't even manage that.
Unwilling to give up, she asked at a few more shops, but still no luck.
Finally, she went to a secondhand bookshop. The shopkeeper there couldn't say for certain either, and merely pointed to a pile of old books nearby, telling her to look through them herself. Clinging to a sliver of hope, Gu Youning set down her basket and crouched there, carefully sorting through the books.
After sorting for a while, she suddenly sensed a dark shadow falling over her. Before she could react, a pair of hands reached out and snatched the book from her hands.
She looked up in confusion and saw Li Shihui.
Li Shihui struck a self-important pose, as if he were some dashing young gentleman descended from the heavens.
Gu Youning was startled and instinctively stepped back.
Li Shihui smiled without quite smiling: "You act like you've seen a cat the moment you see me. Am I really that frightening?"
Seeing that the bookshop keeper was present, along with two or three scattered customers nearby, Gu Youning judged that he wouldn't dare act up, so she composed herself slightly and offered a small curtsey: "This humble one greets Fifth Master."
Though Li Shihui was merely Madam Jiang's cousin, the tie of kinship still counted for something. On festivals and holidays, he would accompany family members to the residence to pay respects, and the servants, knowing his background, dared not slight him and addressed him respectfully as Fifth Master.
Seeing her like this, Li Shihui smiled.
Though Gu Youning was no pampered young lady of a great household, she was truly beautiful—her skin snow-white, the kind that turned only a delicate flush of red in the sun. Her features were lovely, her eyes especially striking, clear and black and bright, like a pool of spring water in a mountain stream.
Looking at this Gu Youning, he could not take his eyes off her, thinking that he simply had to have her brought into his chamber as a concubine. She was a hundred times more pleasing to the eye than the wife he had at home.
The Li family had originally been of ordinary humble means. It was only because Li Shihui's aunt—Madam Jiang's mother—had become a concubine in a Duke's household that his family prospered. Even so, Li Shihui had only managed to marry a daughter of a minor household, a plain-looking woman whom he had wed purely for her dowry.
Whenever he thought of this, Li Shihui felt utterly dissatisfied. It wasn't until the day he saw Gu Youning at Prince Duan's residence that she captured his heart, and he actually fell lovesick. It was because of this that Li Shihui's mother went to plead with Madam Jiang about how to obtain this woman. Madam Jiang gave it brief thought and devised a plan: to first consummate the match, then figure out the rest.
Who could have known that the duck already at his lips would fly away—Li Shihui got nothing at all.
Naturally, he was unwilling to accept this. For the past few days, he had been keeping watch on the streets near the residence from time to time, but had never once seen her. Today, while having tea with a few friends in the teahouse across the street, he happened to spot her.
He looked at Gu Youning with a smile: "Mistress Gu, they do say a thread of fate draws lovers together across a thousand li… But Mistress Gu, why would you come to a bookshop rummaging through books? Are you planning to study and become a female top scholar?"
As he spoke, he made a show of looking at the book—an old thread-bound volume, its text dense and obscure, enough to give one a headache just glancing at it. She couldn't help feeling a flicker of curiosity.
In her heart, Gu Youning seethed with hatred for this Li Shihui. If he hadn't schemed to frame her, how would she have ended up in that absurd affair, leaving her anxious and uneasy for days?
Still, she pressed those feelings down, curtsied once more, and said with courtesy yet distance, "Fifth Master, my husband is waiting outside. I fear he has waited long, so I must take my leave."
Li Shihui gave a scornful laugh. "Your husband is outside? As if I don't know—Sun Feng'an is on duty at the residence today. How could he have time to be out?"
Gu Youning's heart tightened. With a cold face, she said, "Fifth Master, I am only a woman. I know nothing of duty rosters. I only know to live quietly and mind my own affairs. I ask that you conduct yourself with propriety."
With that, she hurried toward the door.
Li Shihui would have said more, but with several customers around looking their way, he had to let it go for the moment.
Gu Youning rushed some distance away, and only when she saw that Li Shihui had not followed did she breathe a sigh of relief.
But thinking over today's experience—she hadn't found the book, and had instead run into Li Shihui—she felt somewhat dejected. She had no wish to keep searching. Head drooping, she carried her basket and headed back.
Who knew that just as she reached the street before the prince's residence, she would see many guards standing at its gates—a grand display indeed.
Seeing this scene, Gu Youning sensed something ominous.
Only the Dowager Consort or Prince Duan could command such a display at the residence. But the Dowager Consort traveled in a red gauze phoenix palanquin trimmed with gold, and screens would always be set up around her—none of which was present now. This display must be for Prince Duan.
Gu Youning tried to avoid it, hurrying toward the mouth of the alley, but when she got there, she found red-lacquered barriers already lined up at the entrance, with guards standing watch. Seeing someone approach, a guard drove her back with his barrier.
Fortunately, a page clearing the road recognized her and quickly said, "This is Sun Feng'an's wife, from our own residence."
Gu Youning hastily greeted them, and the page motioned for her to keep quiet and wait by the base of the wall nearby.
Left with no choice, Gu Youning could only stand there with head bowed and deferential, waiting for the procession entering the residence to finish.
Just then, hoofbeats sounded in the distance, drawing nearer—neither hurried nor slow. Gu Youning held her breath, head lowered, not daring to raise her eyes.
She could feel that from the moment the hoofbeats began, the atmosphere around them grew ever more solemn, all the guards standing with heads respectfully bowed.
Her heart tightened faintly. Though she knew how exalted Prince Duan's status was, she was after all a servant of the inner quarters, someone who had never even seen him. Now, hearing those hoofbeats and standing amid this solemn ranks, she sensed an air entirely different from that of the inner quarters.
Soon the hoofbeats arrived close by, passed in front of Gu Youning, and stopped at the mounting block before the residence gates.
Gu Youning's head was bowed, but from the corner of her eye she could just make out the rider leaping nimbly from the horse, flipping down with brisk ease and landing steadily. Pages and servants immediately stepped forward, bowing, to take the reins.
Gu Youning bit her lip, watching that figure carefully.
He wore a magnificent, elaborate satin robe patterned with clouds, and as the fabric rippled, cloud waves and coiled dragons seemed to flicker in and out of view.
This made Gu Youning feel all the more his strangeness and majesty. This was Prince Duan, who held the power of life and death over every servant in the residence—and he looked very different from how he had appeared that night.
But really, this was simply his true self—the way a prince ought to be.
She suddenly thought of Sun Yue. Sun Yue was a daughter doted on by her parents-in-law, raised in fine clothes and luxury since childhood. But what of it? She was still registered as a slave. She had set her heart on Prince Duan, hoping to climb up to a higher branch, yet she could hardly even secure a post in His Highness's service, let alone become a woman of his chambers—let alone a registered concubine.
In truth, His Highness was not short of people around him. Madam Jiang was the younger half-sister of the late Princess Consort. Besides her, there were three concubines: one was a maid of the old Dowager Consort, placed in His Highness's chambers; one was a maid of that late Princess Consort, taken into his rooms; and one had been bestowed by the Emperor from the palace. The Emperor was His Highness's uncle, born of the same mother as the old prince, and was said to rely heavily on His Highness.
When Gu Youning thought of all this, that night felt like nothing more than a dream.
She had been drunk that night. Drunk, she had cast aside all restraint and done something outrageous—yet His Highness had not refused. On the contrary, he had been quite cooperative, even turning the tables and taking the lead.
When it came down to it, the whole thing was truly unbelievable, absurd beyond measure. How could she have become entangled like this with a man like His Highness?
As her thoughts wandered, she suddenly felt a gaze—cool, strange and familiar at once.
She started, and instinctively looked over, only to meet Prince Duan's eyes.
At this very moment, he was looking at her. Before all these watching eyes, in front of so many guards and servants, he was looking at her.
She was terrified at once, panic and bewilderment surging over her like a tide.
So, was the truth about to come to light?
Would he charge her with the offense, or quietly do away with her?
But Prince Duan calmly withdrew his gaze.
Then, surrounded by his guards and servants, he ascended the steps and entered the residence with unhurried composure.
Gu Youning stood frozen in place, staring blankly as Prince Duan entered the residence, as the surrounding guards filed in one after another, as the street quieted down.
A few servants came out of the residence with brooms and began sweeping the ground before the gates.
Amid the rustling of the brooms, she suddenly came back to her senses.
Blushing, she lowered her head and, carrying her basket, hurriedly turned into a nearby alley, walking quickly toward home.
Even so, as she walked, she couldn't help recalling the way Prince Duan had looked at her.
That gaze had been imperious, cool and indifferent, distant.
She even felt that perhaps Prince Duan hadn't really been looking at her at all—or rather, that he hadn't registered her existence.
If she thought about it honestly: when her own gaze swept across the ground, did she notice the ants on it? No. She just glanced over, paying no mind to such insignificant things.
So Prince Duan wouldn't have noticed her.
This thought relieved her, made her feel safe.
Prince Duan didn't remember her. He wouldn't hold her to account over what happened that night. The matter was simply over.
And really, when she thought about it, although her status was lowly—merely the wife of a household slave—in matters like this, it was always the woman who suffered the loss. Even if he was the exalted Prince Duan, he hadn't suffered any loss, had he?
So it was best for both of them to forget it, to act as if it had never happened.
Because his father was an old hand of the prince's residence, and because he had been handsome and clever since childhood, Sun Feng'an had begun serving in Prince Duan's outer study at the age of twelve or thirteen, and had endured until now he was considered one of Prince Duan's trusted and relied-upon men. Even so, he still insisted on taking his turns on duty personally.
The rotation for duty outside Prince Duan's study came around once every five days, with guards on duty day and night. This day, Sun Feng'an happened to be on daytime duty, so when the prince returned to the residence, he bustled about attending to him, not daring to show the slightest slack.
After the prince had washed up and was taking his tea, he suddenly spoke: "How has your father's health been these past few days?"
His father? What a courteous way of putting it—how flattering!
Sun Feng'an was overwhelmed by the unexpected favor and hastily replied, "Thanks to Your Highness's great fortune, my father is still quite hale. He only thinks of Your Highness daily, and also keeps the old prince in his thoughts. With Qingming approaching, he's busy preparing for the tomb-sweeping rites."
His father was Sun Futang, who had served at the old prince's side since childhood. Now that the old prince was gone, Prince Duan, being deeply filial, still held a measure of old affection for his father.
The prince gave a slight nod and even, unusually, chatted a few desultory sentences. Sun Feng'an, thinking of his younger sister Sun Yue's hopes, felt his heart pound wildly. Could it be that His Highness had conceived an interest?
He himself wasn't necessarily keen on his sister becoming the prince's concubine. Though he was merely a household servant of the princely residence, he had some ambition, believing that as a man, he could carve out a future on his own merits.
But he knew his sister's temperament well. If she could get her wish, he would naturally be happy for her. So now he was extremely careful, subtly steering the conversation toward marriage matters and toward his sister.
After this idle chatter had gone on a while, the topic somehow turned to Sun Feng'an's own wife's family, and he mentioned that his brother-in-law was in poor health and disabled, and that his mother-in-law helped out with work in the residence's kitchen.
The prince said flatly, "Helping in the kitchen? Does she have some skill in cooking?"
Sun Feng'an quickly said, "My mother-in-law makes an excellent soup and is especially skilled at pastries. Just a few days ago she was mentioning it—she's quite adept at the various pastries needed for Qingming."
He figured that with a mere mention, the prince wouldn't take it to heart—after all, His Highness had never been one to meddle in the inner household's affairs. His mind was on court politics.
Yet to his surprise, the prince questioned him in detail, appearing thoughtful.
Sun Feng'an's heart was in his throat with anxiety. Could there really be hope here?
After a moment, however, the prince summoned the residence's steward, Nanny Lu, and questioned her as well. Suddenly called to give a report, Nanny Lu was so frightened she shrank back, terrified that something might go wrong.
Having carefully questioned her about matters concerning Old Madame Gu, the prince gave his orders: "This is Head Steward Sun's in-law. Since she has such skills, have her make several of the pastries and sweets for the Qingming tomb-sweeping rites. If she does well, she may be given greater responsibilities in the future."
Nanny Lu was mildly astonished. She had already planned out all these work arrangements—who owed favors to whom, who deserved what benefits—all calculated.
Yet now the prince had suddenly, out of nowhere, spoken up to promote this Old Madame Gu?
Just as she was pondering this, she suddenly saw His Highness slightly raise his eyelids, his gaze cool and indifferent.
She started, then hastily and respectfully said, "Yes, yes. Since Your Highness has given the order, this servant will go carry it out at once."
Watching from the side, Sun Feng'an was overjoyed—so delighted he hardly knew which way was up.
In fact, a few evenings earlier, when he had heard Gu Youning mention it, he had privately asked his father whether he could lend a hand. But his father had said that countless people had their eyes on this job, and that the mother-in-law was a widow besides. If he rashly stepped in to help, who knew what gossip might spread outside?
Sun Feng'an had to admit this made sense. Though his father was the head steward, this matter wasn't under his direct management. If he insisted on speaking up for it, he'd have to spend his own favors as well, so in the end he had let the matter drop.
Who would have thought that a casual remark he'd made in front of His Highness would, like a willow sprouting from an unintentionally planted branch, actually come to pass!
He knew Prince Duan was doing this out of regard for his father, and also to look after him. He was overwhelmed with gratitude and delight.
At once, he hurriedly knelt down and kowtowed, solemnly thanking Prince Duan for his grace.
Prince Duan lowered his eyes slightly, watching Sun Feng'an as he knelt.
This young servant had been in his service for several years—clean, handsome features, clever in his work, and generally handy to have around.
Yet in this moment, watching him, Prince Duan found him strangely unfamiliar, strangely disagreeable.
Sun Feng'an knelt there, but the "You may rise" that he had expected—the words that should by rights have come—never arrived. The study was exceptionally quiet, so quiet that he could hear the rustling of sweeping outside.
He vaguely sensed that something was off in the atmosphere, but dared not ask. He simply held his breath and knelt respectfully.
After a long while, he finally heard a faint voice come from above: "Withdraw for now."