Shen Yunshu watched Hu Po move with practiced ease and couldn’t help but sigh.
Being a maid to a little princess wasn’t easy.
Every day, the princess had strange, unpredictable whims. Even Hu Po’s name had been changed later on.
Usually, a mistress personally named her own personal maids. Names were often related in some way, making them easier to remember and more convenient to use.
Since Shen Yunshu had named her own personal maids Linlang and Linglong, when she once mentioned this to Princess Le’an during a palace visit, the little princess immediately admired how elegant the names sounded—like jewels and treasures—and insisted on renaming her own maids similarly.
Besides Hu Po, the princess had another maid named Ma Nao.
To avoid duplicate names, the two girls had even agreed that when they were older and each added two more personal maids, Shen Yunshu’s additional two would be named Liu Li and Ying Luo, while the princess’s would be Shan Hu and Zhen Zhu.
The names sounded noble and luxurious, and the little princess was very pleased with them.
Shen Yunshu felt a bit helpless. Princess Le’an’s idea of “nobility” was simply choosing the most expensive or valuable things for names.
After the conversation in the palace that day, word spread throughout the harem: when naming new palace maids, people deliberately avoided such luxurious names, fearing that duplicating the princess’s future maids’ names would incur her displeasure.
Many young palace maids also envied those serving the princess.
The entire harem knew that Princess Le’an treated her attendants exceptionally well. Even the two maids who hadn’t yet appeared had already been given names by the princess.
From that point on, Yongle Palace—Princess Le’an’s residence—became a place every maid and eunuch in the harem longed to serve.
“Yunshu, this child has always been clever, and now she can even design such novel hairpins. They’re rather pretty, too,” the Empress said, smiling at the adorable little goldfish hair ornament on Princess Le’an’s head as she spoke to the Zhenbei Wang Fei.
“She likes to study peculiar things. Always comes up with strange ideas,” the Zhenbei Wang Fei added, a hint of pride in her tone when praising her own daughter.
The Empress nodded. “That’s just like Le’an. No wonder the two girls are so close! It reminds me of us back then. At the border, we weren’t content staying in the inner palace. When the Emperor and the Prince once lost a battle and planned to have us retreat with the civilians, we insisted on going to the battlefield to fight alongside them!”
The Empress smiled, as though recalling a precious memory.
“That was when we truly became handkerchief sisters,” she said.
Because of that experience, the Emperor treated her differently from the other women in the Eastern Palace harem.
She didn’t fear the Emperor’s harem; she never reached out to compete for attention or interfere with anyone else. She understood that the Emperor could not belong to her alone. From the moment she became Crown Princess, she knew her position clearly. She did not love the Emperor; her marriage was about loyalty.
When the Emperor went to the border to fight and earn military merit, she followed, no matter the distance.
Competing for favor in the inner palace wasn’t her value—her value was to protect the Emperor, to stand with him through trials, just as her family must do.
Over the years, her relationship with the Emperor was less like husband and wife and more like comrades-in-arms.
She could maintain her position as Empress because she was clear-headed.
She understood that she didn’t need much love for the Emperor—just loyalty.
She understood the Emperor’s character—stubborn, decisive, and unchanging. As long as he reigned, her son would always be Crown Prince, and she would always be Empress.
Yet, in the quiet of the night, she still sometimes envied her handkerchief sister.
The Zhenbei Wang Mansion’s inner court was unusually clean for a noble household. Shen Yunshu’s mother spent most of her life campaigning outside, and yet she only had one consort—no side wives at all.
The Prince held a high position. Normally, refusing certain things would be impossible, yet she shamelessly claimed she feared her husband’s displeasure and openly stated she had to be cautious as a prince of another family. Taking a side wife could appear as factionalism, which might anger the Emperor.
She was the first to openly say she feared being seen as forming factions, and the Emperor actually supported her, reprimanding officials who tried to force people into the Zhenbei Wang Mansion, letting the Prince refuse freely.
When she first learned of this, she envied it. During campaigns at the border, the families lived together and shared the same daily life. Back in the palace, the difference was vast.
Her husband had three palaces, six courts, and seventy-two consorts, while Ji Shuyao’s husband’s inner court had only her.
A lifetime for just two people!
She had never experienced that life but occasionally looked on it with a quiet envy.
Princess Le’an adjusted her hairpin in the mirror, then handed a Hetian white jade lotus hairpin from the table to Shen Yunshu.
“Yunshu, I still think this white jade lotus suits you. I know you love water lilies. You gave me one of your favorite hairpins, so I’ll give you one of mine!”
“But this is a rare Hetian white jade tribute from a vassal state. It’s scarce and valuable—much more than my ruby and gold hairpin!” Shen Yunshu said.
“Our relationship isn’t about value. The hairpin you gave me was made by someone you commissioned—it’s unique! Mine is just a tribute from a vassal state. By intention, it’s not as meaningful as yours. Still, it should be considered one-of-a-kind; they wouldn’t make another copy of the tribute anyway,” the princess replied, placing the hairpin in Shen Yunshu’s hand casually.
Shen Yunshu looked at the intricately carved hairpin and felt pleased. She had always loved elegant things like bamboo and lotus flowers.
Princess Le’an knew this and thus gave her the hairpin.
“All right, have you two finished exchanging gifts? It’s time we go,” the Empress said, seeing them had chatted enough and estimating the time.