After finishing his punishment at the Laundry Bureau, Wang Delan stood before the residence.
“The young lady doesn’t like being attended to—don’t let her see you. Keep your eyes closed and your ears shut. Just think of it as cleaning His Majesty’s old residence on his behalf.”
Though Wang Delan was not old, having served at the Emperor’s side for several months, he already carried the air of a chief eunuch.
“If the slightest word leaks out—whoever spreads it, this humble one will cut out their tongue.”
Several maids acknowledged the order.
Yun Yi heard people outside.
Several maids hurried in carrying food boxes.
Three maids, six eyes, confronted Yun Yi, a living, breathing person—yet they acted as if she didn’t exist.
Yun Yi waved her hand in front of a maid’s face; the woman didn’t even flinch, going about her business arranging the bowls and plates.
The maids poured tea and set out fruit platters.
They didn’t utter a single word the entire time, treating Yun Yi like air.
Ignoring them, the fragrance of sweet-and-sour pork filled her nostrils. Yun Yi devoured three pieces.
“A Yushu Robot version of the Snail Girl?” She picked up the purple-clay teapot and chugged straight from the spout.
Not a word Yun Yi said escaped the Emperor’s ears.
Xiao Zhi recalled what he had seen in that era a thousand years later: cars, hospitals, bustling streets, swarming crowds, a round globe.
So unreal.
Yun Yi had told him the earth was round and that it spun.
What did “robot” mean? She hadn’t explained that to him yet.
Xiao Zhi set down his chopsticks.
Wang Delan quickly presented a hand towel: “Your Majesty, does the meal not suit your taste?”
Just now, the maids had reported that Miss Yun had eaten with great relish. The Emperor’s evening meal was identical to hers.
If it was the same, why did his lord find it tasteless?
The next day.
Xiao Zhi went to court, left court, reviewed memorials, met with ministers—going through the motions of a diligent sovereign praised by all.
Yun Yi woke up, yawned, ate breakfast, watched ants move house—utterly bored, a social idler with nothing to do.
Before bed, after hearing the maids’ report on the young lady’s meals and daily routine, the Emperor clutched his brocade quilt and tossed and turned, lying awake for two hours.
Wang Delan, on night duty, was deeply worried—why was His Majesty unable to sleep?
Finally, the Emperor summoned his trusted imperial physician.
Imperial Physician Zhou arrived in trepidation but could not identify the root of His Majesty’s ailment.
Xiao Zhi’s thoughts drifted to the hospital a thousand years later—
The hospital’s directory board listed the Gastroenterology Department, the Sleep Clinic… Yun Yi had told him that if he couldn’t eat or sleep, that was where he should go.
At the time, he had asked: “Is not being able to eat or sleep a serious illness?”
“A very serious illness!” Yun Yi had deliberately scared him. “If you can’t eat or sleep, you’re done for—you’d need to be rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.”
That was it, Xiao Zhi thought. He should go to the hospital for emergency treatment, rather than let the imperial physician press on his dragon pulse.
Imperial Physician Zhou: “Your Majesty is troubled by excessive worry. This humble minister will prescribe a remedy…”
The Emperor watched the physician shuffle along, old and frail, and said with concern: “Imperial Physician Zhou, how many years have you served in the Imperial Medical Institute?”
“Reporting to Your Majesty, this old minister has served for forty-one years.”
“Then it’s time for you to go home and enjoy your family. I grant you permission to retire at the end of this year.”
Imperial Physician Zhou was startled. He knelt and kowtowed: “Your servant thanks His Majesty for his great kindness!”
Just ten more months, and he could go home to hold his grandchildren.
On the third day.
The Emperor, who had been working 9-to-9, six days a week, did not go to the front hall to handle state affairs after court.
The ministers were waiting to discuss the Northern Di marriage alliance. Upon hearing that His Majesty was unwell, they grew apprehensive.
No one knew that the robust Emperor had taken a stroll to his old residence.
The gate stood quietly shut.
Xiao Zhi could almost imagine the lively scene behind it: someone in one hand holding snacks, in the other fruit, squatting down to feed the ants beneath the tree.
He opened the door.
Sunlight cast a grid of light across his dragon robe, dust motes dancing in the air.
The courtyard was still.
Beneath the solitary osmanthus tree, a line of ants was carrying bits of biscuit into their nest.
The girl who had been staying there had vanished.
The Emperor’s figure stood solitary and forlorn.
Without reason, he gave a kick, sending the ants scattering in panic.
“You left without even telling me.”
Wang Delan came running over in a hurry: “Your Majesty, Miss Yun left a message for you.”
Xiao Zhi took the note. The handwriting on it was crooked and uneven.
[I went shopping with the Princess.]
“Your Majesty, today is the Shangsi Festival.”
The Shangsi Festival was also known as the Spring Bathing Festival.
The common folk would offer sacrifices to the Water God, praying for favorable wind and rain. Over time, the ritual of praying for water evolved into purification rites to seek offspring.
By the Yan Dynasty, the fervor for seeking offspring had faded. Wealthy families would hold riverside banquets for guests, and young men and women would meet on this day.
“So the Shangsi Festival is basically Valentine’s Day.” Yun Yi had a sugar flower clamped between her teeth, rubbing the sugar stains from her lips with her fingertips.
Xiao Qingzhu said with great vigor: “Miss, this servant would like to go shopping on Jinfang Street.”
Yun Yi shot her a sidelong glance—who exactly was the master and who was the servant?
It had been the princess’s idea to sneak out of the palace, and it had also been the princess’s idea to disguise their identities.
Since she was bored anyway, Yun Yi agreed.
She just hadn’t expected that the princess’s hobby was playing the part of a young manservant.
This palace had driven a perfectly good princess to such lengths.
If she was going to play the servant, she should at least look the part. Yet the princess twirled her kerchief on her fingertip, a flimsy piece of cloth spinning through the air like a dance.
Yun Yi gave her a look that said everything.
Oh, well.
The “mistress and servant” swaggered boldly onto the bustling Jinfang Street.
Ancient street scenes unfolded before her eyes.
On the canal, a painted pleasure boat glided slowly closer, the sounds of wine-drinking and merrymaking drifting over.
Onboard, the Fifth Prince, Xiao Li, had his arm around a Hu (Central Asian) dancing girl.
The Hu girl had thick brows and blue-green eyes, not at all like a woman of the Central Plains.
Xiao Li raised a wine flask with his other hand and poured it into the girl’s mouth.
“Cough, cough.” The Hu girl could not hold her liquor.
Xiao Li, displeased, tipped the wine straight into her nose.
Sobs and coughs… were drowned out by the rising music.
Helian Tu, leaning against the gunwale, withdrew his gaze from the scenery and glanced indifferently toward Xiao Li. “Fifth Prince—I hear today is a festival?”
Helian Tu spoke Central Plains speech with a thick foreign accent. Though Xiao Li felt repulsed, his face put on a show of agreement: “The Shangsi Festival.”
He gave up and shoved the Hu girl forward, sparing her lowly life for now.
The Yan Dynasty was not particularly conservative in its customs. On festival days, if a young man and woman took a liking to each other, the man would seek a matchmaker to approach the woman’s family.
“I see.” After listening to Xiao Li’s explanation, Helian Tu glanced at the Hu girl, who suppressed the stinging in her nose and mouth and withdrew to the side.
Much of Xiao Li’s drunkenness had faded. He replaced wine with tea and personally poured Helian Tu a cup: “Forgive me for making a fool of myself before Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Helian Tu lifted his sleeve to drink, but half the tea soaked into the fabric.
He lowered his sleeve, his expression unchanged: “The Fifth Prince flatters me. The Northern Di are mere barbarians—how could I be called a ‘Crown Prince’?”
Helian Tu was the son of the Great Chanyu of the Northern Di.
Xiao Li looked troubled: “I had originally thought that although my imperial sister is willful and headstrong, if the Young Khan did not mind, it would have been a fine match for her to marry into the Northern Di. Who would have thought my imperial brother has no interest in a marriage alliance…”
Helian Tu twirled his cup in his hand, his gaze falling on a certain figure on the shore.
A young woman was leaning on the railing, gazing into the distance. The wind caught her clothes and ruffled the fine hair at the nape of her neck.
She spread her arms wide, forming a square with her hands, adjusting directions here and there, as if unsatisfied with every angle.
Then she shifted her arms and chose a different view.
Helian Tu saw her hands land on the painted boat, framing him between her fingers.
The tender young “manservant” beside her leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
In that brief moment, the young woman moved her hands away.
She seemed to have said something like “A Riverside Scene at Qingming Festival.” Helian Tu didn’t understand what it meant, but he felt that the girl who framed the scenery as a painting was very beautiful.
Xiao Li followed Helian Tu’s gaze and landed on that young woman.
Her smile was foolish; with such lovely features undone by that irrepressible grin, a perfectly fine beauty had become a simple-minded country girl.
So this was Helian Tu’s type.
Then he looked at the manservant beside her.
His gaze collided with “his.”
He froze abruptly.
The young manservant’s eyes darted away, hurriedly turning his head aside.
“Xiao Qingzhu!” Xiao Li had grown up with Xiao Qingzhu—he would recognize her even if she turned to ash.
Helian Tu took another look at the young woman and said in surprise: “So she is Her Highness the Princess?”
Thud—the Hu girl accidentally bumped into a low table, sending tea cups, fruit plates, and wine flasks crashing to the floor.
A flash of cruelty passed through Xiao Li’s eyes. He lashed out with his foot and kicked her.
Splash—water sprayed up.
On the shore, Yun Yi suddenly pointed at the culprit: “He kicked her! He kicked her into the water!”
The Hu girl was soaked through, struggling in the water.
Yun Yi grew anxious and grabbed the manservant’s hand: “Hurry—save her!”
Xiao Qingzhu, disguised as a manservant, said: “I can’t swim…”
A crowd had gathered on the shore. Xiao Li hadn’t expected things to blow up. His face darkened, and he grabbed an oar and smashed it against the Hu girl’s head.
If she were dead, she wouldn’t struggle anymore.
Helian Tu looked indifferently at the woman in the water, his eyes fathomless: I have saved you once already. You lack discernment and have met this fate—do not blame me for being merciless.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tender young “princess” on the shore yank off her hairpin and, with a clean diving posture, plunge into the river with a splash.
Xiao Qingzhu was terrified.
Her imperial brother’s prized possession had jumped into the water—life or death unknown.
Xiao Qingzhu was frantic: “Help! Save my mistress!”
Yun Yi moved through the water like a fish, swimming to the Hu girl’s side in a few strokes.
The Hu girl’s lips were turning purple, already choking on water. She grabbed Yun Yi’s arm like a lifeline.
Though Yun Yi had known how to swim since childhood, she could barely cope with the woman’s frantic clutching and pulling.
The princess had fallen into the water, yet the Fifth Prince showed no reaction. Helian Tu found it unacceptable. He snatched the oar from Xiao Li’s hands.
“Prin—” He quickly corrected himself, leaning down as far as he could and extending the oar toward Yun Yi: “Miss—grab this!”
The long oar was like a one-way arrow—all she had to do was grab it and she would be saved.
Yun Yi was exhausted. She had long seen the two men on the boat—one with dark circles under his eyes, the other a rough-looking foreigner.
Both looked like close kin to the Four Great Villains.
Though bedraggled, she knew better than to send the woman back onto that boat.
“Don’t move. Can you play dead?” Yun Yi adjusted the Hu girl’s head. “If you keep struggling, I won’t save you.”
The Hu girl truly stopped moving.
The drenched “princess” held the Hu girl and swam, though not easily. The boatman understood and turned his vessel, drawing closer to the two in the water.
At such close range, Helian Tu could see the droplets on the princess’s eyelashes.
He threw down the oar and reached out his hand to her.
“Grab me!”
Yun Yi cast him a faint glance and swam with all her strength toward the shore.
A trail of splashes rose, accompanied by the cheers of onlookers.
Helian Tu’s gaze followed the figure of the rescuer.
Ripples settled in his heart, lingering long after.
A crowd had gathered on the shore—mostly commoners, but also many laborers and cart drivers.
One person pushed through the onlookers, his heavy Tussah silk brushing against the coarse hem of a laborer’s robes. The crowd acted as a barrier, separating him from his attendants.
“Master…”
The attendants were pale with anxiety.
Their master, however, seemed utterly unconcerned.
Xiao Qingzhu, still dressed as a manservant, was jostled by a bystander and stumbled.
Xiao Zhi reached out and pulled her toward him, scolding in a low voice: “There’s a limit to watching a spectacle—you nearly fell in and became a water ghost.”
Xiao Qingzhu met her second brother’s dark expression, and her face instantly fell: “Imp-imp-imp…” erial Brother.
Xiao Zhi saw her face—it was not Yun Yi—and his expression grew even darker: “Where is Xiao Yizi?”
Xiao Qingzhu sniffled: “In the river.”
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