At dawn the next day, while the sky was still faintly light, Gu Youning followed Sun Feng'an's mother into the residence early. The household was already bustling with activity—preparing sacrificial offerings, wine, dishes, and rice, while tray after tray of food boxes and hampers were sent ahead to be set in place.
Gu Youning hurried over to Concubine Zhou's quarters. Though she was there to serve, it was hardly her turn to lift a hand; she simply stood respectfully in the corridor with lowered hands, waiting to be called upon.
Maids and servant women came and went, carrying chests and handing over garments—a scene of great bustle. Then an old woman distributed white silk and dark blue cloth headwraps, one for each person. Gu Youning received hers too and, imitating the other maids and servants, wrapped it around her hair bun.
After a while, Concubine Zhou finished dressing. Wearing a silver-wire chignon and a full-sleeved robe, she came out of her room supported by two personal maids. Everyone hurried to follow, and Gu Youning quickly fell in behind.
The party first passed through the inner gate and boarded their carriage, then joined the residence's long procession of carriages and horses as they swept grandly out of the imperial capital.
By then the Emperor's procession was already on the official road. Gu Youning happened to glance outside—she did not see the phoenix carriage, only the Emperor's personal guards, solemn and awe-inspiring enough to make one tremble at the sight. She hastily withdrew her gaze, bowed her head low, and dared not be curious any longer.
When everyone arrived at the imperial tombs, the women naturally disembarked and settled in according to their rank. Concubine Zhou's status was low, so by the time her turn came it was already noon. She hurriedly got down and settled in. Gu Youning dared not be careless, helping to sweep and tidy the rooms and put everything in order, busy beyond measure.
After midday came the imperial sacrificial rites. Gu Youning, following behind Concubine Zhou, got to witness it all: those in phoenix crowns and rosy capes were the noble ladies of the palace; those in dragon robes and pheasant-patterned garments were the Emperor and the princes. One after another, adorned with jade belts and pearl shoes, they were clearly no ordinary people at a glance.
Gu Youning also saw Prince Duan. He wore a long black robe and stood beside the Crown Prince, tall in figure, his expression dignified and solemn.
Looking at Prince Duan like this, she thought of how she had always felt this prince was unfathomably deep, as if he were a different species from ordinary people.
Now, thinking it over, he truly was a different species—the legitimate grandson of the late Emperor, nephew to the reigning Emperor, brother to the Crown Prince. He was a man above men, nobility among nobility.
Even Concubine Zhou, whom she served so carefully, was a negligible presence before them.
By this comparison, she even began to feel that what had happened between the two of them that day—truly, he had gotten the short end, and she had profited.
She, the wife of a household slave—how fortunate she was, to have had a night of passion with such dragon-blooded royalty.
In truth, if she set aside all the panic and fear, she had to admit that she had known pleasure too.
Since Concubine Zhou held no imperial title, she was truly dispensable at these sacrificial rites at the imperial tombs, not ranked at all. So she merely showed her face, and naturally had no part in the subsequent rituals, returning early to her lodgings to rest.
Gu Youning waited in the corridor with several young wives. With nothing to do, they idly admired the scenery of the temporary palace. It was, after all, a royal mausoleum—rare flowers and unusual trees everywhere—and from not far off came the sounds of music and drums, making it quite lively.
Presently a young maid came over carrying an armful of flowering branches, and everyone began weaving flowers. Gu Youning joined in the weaving. Her hands were skillful, and she wove a flowering branch into a little hen. The little hen had wings—give its tail a gentle pull, and its wings would flap and flutter.
The maids were all fascinated and asked how it was made, and Gu Youning taught them step by step.
Her skill had actually been learned from Zhang Xu back in the day. Zhang Xu's hands, the ones that gripped a blade, were strong yet nimble, capable of weaving all sorts of patterns.
At this thought, Gu Youning sighed inwardly. What a pity—they had been fated to meet, but not to be together.
Ever since she married Sun Feng'an, Zhang Xu had requested a transfer, and no one knew where he had gone.
In her heart, she hoped he would have a bright future and marry a good wife.
A good man deserved a good life.
By evening, the imperial sacrificial rites were finally complete. Outside the imperial mausoleum, around the temporary palace, banquet tents had long been erected and wine feasts laid out. Musicians played flutes and reed pipes at the side, singing and dancing—a scene of splendid prosperity.
The Old Consort Dowager, being advanced in years, left the banquet early and returned to her quarters to rest a while. Madam Jiang, along with several concubines, went to attend upon the Old Consort Dowager. Gu Youning, being an ordinary servant, need not approach; she only had to stand at a distance and await orders.
But just then, a maid came hurrying over: "Sister-in-law of the Sun family, Her Highness summons you."
Gu Youning was startled: "What?"
The maid quickly explained. It turned out that while the Old Consort Dowager had been chatting, someone had mentioned the little hen she had woven. Everyone found it amusing, so Her Highness the Consort Dowager had called for her to come weave one.
Gu Youning had never expected such a thing. Not knowing whether this was fortune or misfortune, she could only steel herself and go forward.
Upon entering the room, she saw large tufted carpets covering the floor, and everywhere the eye fell there were pearls and jade ornaments, dazzling to behold.
Gu Youning was led by the personal attendant to the Consort Dowager's side. At that moment, the Consort Dowager was taking tea and chatting, with palace maids and eunuchs standing respectfully at attention on either side, while Madam Jiang and the three concubines all stood by in attendance.
Gu Youning bowed her neck submissively and knelt in reverent salute.
The Consort Dowager proved quite amiable, ordering her to rise, and said with a smile: "You are Sun Futang's daughter-in-law, aren't you?"
Sun Futang was her father-in-law's full name. Gu Youning hurriedly affirmed it.
The Consort Dowager asked: "Back when the old Prince was alive, he used to praise Sun Futang as capable and quick-witted in his duties. Last year I heard his family took in a daughter-in-law, though I never saw her. I never imagined she would be so striking."
The Consort Dowager's words were kindly—she was complimenting Gu Youning's beauty. But Gu Youning felt that being "striking" was not a good thing.
For the wife of a family servant, the most important thing was propriety and duty. Before one's masters, what place was there for being striking?
She quickly lowered her head: "Your Highness flatters me too much. This servant is ashamed."
The Consort Dowager chuckled: "Look at this—did it come from your hands?"
Gu Youning raised her eyes slightly and saw that it was indeed the little woven hen she had made earlier. She quickly lowered her head again and replied respectfully: "It is this servant's humble work—crude and unworthy, unfit for a noble's eyes. I'm afraid it has made Your Highness laugh."
The Consort Dowager smiled: "This little trinket is rather amusing. Make a few more, and let us broaden our horizons."
Concubine Zhou beside her also said with a smile: "Since Her Highness asks you to make them, do it carefully. Choose whatever you're best at."
Gu Youning hurriedly complied. Maids soon brought forth branches of fresh, tender flowers of every kind, and she began weaving little hens on the spot.
Everyone watched as her slender fingers delicately held several tender willow branches, bending, crossing, and knotting them with nimble grace. In just a few moments, the fine, supple willow strands were wound into the small body of a hen, and then she carefully twisted out a pointed beak and a short tail.
Everyone could not help marveling—she had shaped it so quickly!
The Old Consort Dowager chuckled and said, "My eyes were dazzled just watching—I couldn't even tell what was happening, and you'd already woven it into shape."
Gu Youning's hands never paused as she replied respectfully, "Your Highness, if you want it to look truly fine, it still needs more delicate work."
As she spoke, she slanted two thin twigs against the sides of the little hen, then took an even finer willow branch and threaded it beneath the spine. With a twist and a fold of her fingertips, she turned the wingtips upward, then wound a slender tender shoot around to secure them.
Everyone watched her fingertips fluttering about, and then they saw the little hen with its plump rounded back, full belly, and two little wings sticking up—fresh, green, and small, utterly charming. Their admiration only grew.
Gu Youning then presented the little hen to the Old Consort Dowager, who turned it over and over in her hands, clearly delighted.
Madam Jiang had been seated at the Old Consort Dowager's right side all along. Now she gazed at Gu Youning with a smile. "Didn't I say Your Highness is blessed? Everyone around you is so clever. If I had one like her in my courtyard to lend a hand, wouldn't I be spared a great deal of worry as well?"
The Old Consort Dowager thought that sounded reasonable, so she asked Gu Youning, "What work do you do these days?"
At these words, Gu Youning was inwardly alarmed. If she went to work in Madam Jiang's courtyard, she would be entirely at the woman's mercy!
She could only reply, "To answer Your Highness, this servant is crude and clumsy, unfit for important duties. I came to the summer palace to assist at Concubine Zhou's side."
Madam Jiang said in a soft, coaxing voice, wheedling at the Old Consort Dowager, "Your Highness, in that case, why not give her to—"
She had barely gotten halfway through when a maid outside came to announce that Prince Duan had arrived to pay his respects to his mother.
Hearing "Prince Duan," Gu Youning's heart sank further still, and she felt more uncomfortable than words could say.
If this was a mire, an abyss, she wanted to stay far away—but that was difficult.
Standing at the edge of the abyss, she feared falling in beyond all redemption.
Even as she thought this, Prince Duan had already stepped into the hall. Madam Jiang, the several concubines, and the maids and servants all rose respectfully to greet him. Gu Youning subtly shifted back, standing behind the concubines, mingling among the servants as they all bowed together.
Prince Duan had evidently only just extricated himself from formal rites. He wore a black everyday robe woven with golden coiled dragons, his hair bound with a jade crown, every strand of his dark hair immaculate, a trace of solemnity still lingering between his brows.
Gu Youning dared not even raise her eyes, keeping her head lowered, obediently hiding behind the others.
The Old Consort Dowager smiled and motioned for Prince Duan to come sit nearby. "What brings you here at this hour?"
Prince Duan gave a slight bow and said in a warm voice, "The grand rites were long since finished. I sat with Royal Uncle for a while and exchanged a few words of idle chat. Then, seeing how fine the sunlight was today and how lovely the scenery, I thought I would come keep Mother Consort company for a stroll outside, to help lift her spirits."
The Old Consort Dowager was naturally delighted to hear this. Though her husband was gone, this son of hers was truly filial, attentive and considerate in every way.
She sighed with a smile, "How thoughtful of you. But I'm old now and too lazy to move about. Even a ceremony like today's wears me out."
Prince Duan unobtrusively picked up the beauty's mallet beside him and began massaging the Old Consort Dowager's legs, saying as he did so, "These past days of traveling the mountain roads, and all the various ceremonies—never mind you, Mother Consort, even I feel tired. Once we return, you must simply rest and recuperate properly."
Listening from the side, Gu Youning hadn't expected that Prince Duan, who looked so austere and solemn, would be so considerate and filial—and so skilled with words, too.
The Old Consort Dowager had naturally been coaxed into good humor by him as well, and the conversation flowed freely. Mother and son chatted idly, speaking of ordinary household matters—which uncle was doing what, what another uncle had said.
What they discussed was utterly commonplace, yet Gu Youning listened without daring to breathe.
These uncles they spoke of—every one of them was either an emperor or a prince, all members of the imperial clan and powerful nobility. To her, such people were beyond even her wildest imagination.
She kept her head lowered, her gaze falling on the floor—large swaths of plush carpet with magnificent patterns. Staring at them too long, they began to morph into various shapes before her eyes, and her soul seemed to drift away. Her consciousness returned to that moment; she vividly recalled the force of the man's hard, solid frame—thrusting, steady, again and again. She even remembered the scorching breath he had scattered against her ear.
Now, that same man's voice drifted into her ears from time to time—unhurried, measured—a few words from him capable of deciding her entire family's fate.
She could not reconcile the voice beside her with that night. It was all disjointed, split apart.
She clenched her fists, bit her lip, kept her head down desperately, forcing herself to stand steady and suppress the strange emotions that threatened to overflow.
Just then, as Liu Kanyuan spoke with his mother, his gaze swept casually over the table and paused briefly on the little hen made of fine willow twigs.
The willow branches were slender and tender green; the little hen was clumsy yet endearing, remarkably lifelike.
But this rustic object, placed amid brocade drapes and beaded curtains, seemed entirely out of place.
His brow arched slightly, a hint of puzzlement in his expression.
Seeing this, the Old Consort Dowager chuckled and said, "We were just talking about this little trinket when you suddenly arrived and changed the subject."
She looked around the hall. "Eh? Where is she?"
Everyone present turned to look at Gu Youning, and the maids and matrons who had been standing in front of her immediately stepped aside.
Gu Youning felt as though she had been dug alive out of a crack in the earth. She forced down her turbulent thoughts, kept her head bowed submissively, and stepped forward stiffly to pay respects to the Old Consort Dowager. She felt like a marionette on strings—she might as well have been moving her arms and legs in unison—but she steeled herself and curtsied to Prince Duan.
At her curtsy, Prince Duan's gaze naturally fell upon her face—a faint, light gaze, like a feather brushing past.
Gu Youning's cheeks burned under his look, her heart pounding wildly.
Fortunately, Prince Duan withdrew his gaze quickly. He lifted his teacup, took a small sip, and said, "Mother, who is this?"
The Old Consort Dowager smiled. "This is the daughter-in-law of the Sun Futang household. Quite clever with her hands—see this little hen? She wove it herself. I watched her just now; it was like watching a magic trick."
Prince Duan gave a soft "oh," and only then did his gaze slowly settle back on Gu Youning's face.
Gu Youning could barely breathe. She felt that everyone in the room could see through her, that they all knew about everything that had happened that night. She wanted to flee, but there was no escape—she could only bow her head lower and lower, enduring this mortifying scrutiny.
Prince Duan toyed with the willow-twig hen between his slender fingertips and smiled gently at the Old Consort Dowager. "Indeed, quite skillful."