Emperor Zhengyuan’s calculations were clear, and the Empress Dowager’s meaning was equally unambiguous—he should find someone else to scheme with.
After the autumn hunt at Nishan, the imperial entourage returned to the palace. Only Yu Lingxin remained at Nishan to recover from his injuries. For the Empress Dowager’s birthday feast, Eunuch Wei notified the Court of the Imperial Treasury on short notice to remove Jiang Nong’s performance from the program.
Clearly, the Empress Dowager had no intention of pushing her back into the spotlight and making her a piece of meat for scheming nobles to fight over.
This suited Jiang Nong perfectly. Having already summoned spirits by the river, offering a piece reminiscent of her deceased aunt’s unfinished score would risk arousing the Empress Dowager’s suspicion. She had planned to revise the music overnight—the Empress Dowager’s decision spared her the trouble.
Only Jiang Yuan felt indignant on her behalf: “You practiced that dance so well, and they just cancel it without even asking you? All that effort for nothing! How tyrannical! Did they even consult you?”
Jiang Nong quickly covered her mouth: “Shh—shh, shh! Don’t just say whatever comes to mind! How many people in the palace can order the Court of the Imperial Treasury around?”
With Jiang Yuan’s temperament, even if she obediently married in her past life, without her mother’s protection or her father’s favor, behind those high walls—even as a princess—she would face endless cold daggers and grievances, schemed down to her last thread, ending as miserably as Jiang Niao, consumed by melancholy.
Jiang Nong wanted to help her—first by making sure the Empress Dowager didn’t take a dislike to her too.
Jiang Yuan finally caught on, clamped her hands over her mouth, and stared wide-eyed at her.
All the sisters had gone off to prepare for their performances. Jiang Nong sat alone in the front, conspicuously surrounded by empty space, so she slipped out to help with makeup or adjust their gowns.
Jiang Miao took Jiang Nong’s hand and pressed it to her chest: “Ninth Sister, feel my heart—it’s beating so fast! Every year it’s a big occasion, and I still get nervous.”
Jiang Nong soothed her, smoothing her brow: “Does this help you relax a little? Feeling any better?”
A few married princesses had gathered together. Jiang Tian nudged Jiang Fu and gestured toward Jiang Nong: “Look at her. With Grandmother’s favor, she’s riding high now. Instead of getting closer to Grandmother, she’s backstage fussing over her sisters. All that hard-won favor—she’s letting others steal it away.”
Jiang Fu curled her lip: “Hasn’t she always been like that? Even when the Grand Tutor caned her, she never said it was because Jiang Miao and the others copied her work. I thought she’d grow out of that foolishness. The smart thing to do when you gain power is to step on everyone else.”
The noble ladies all strained to outdo each other in their performances. The Empress Dowager’s eyes were already poor—she couldn’t see well, and hearing all their flattering, sycophantic words only made her lose interest. She wanted to call Jiang Nong to sit beside her, but when she looked, the seat was empty.
“Where has she gone?”
Eunuch Wei, prepared as always, bowed and replied: “The Ninth Princess is in the side hall with the other princesses. This servant will have her summoned back.”
The Empress Dowager showed no displeasure—rarely, she even smiled: “Let her be. Just like Niao Niao—young people have more to say to their sisters.”
She felt that this granddaughter might be heaven’s compensation for her lost daughter—or perhaps Niao Niao had been reborn beside her. She was old now, with little time left; in her final days, this was a rare comfort.
The music of flutes and xiaos was pleasant, the breeze carrying fragrance across the waterside hall. The princesses and princes took turns performing, each brilliant in their own way, their radiance making the hall seem ever brighter.
Emperor Zhengyuan clapped, watching more intently than the Empress Dowager—especially the children who had reached marriageable age. He was already making plans.
Lady Li showed little interest throughout the banquet, only perking up when her daughter performed. Jiang Yuan thought she must have done poorly, so after the feast she clung to Lady Li, coaxing her until she finally brightened a little.
Once the Empress Dowager’s birthday passed, it was the twelfth month. With the birthday feast just over, the Court of the Imperial Treasury was busy preparing for the New Year’s banquet. Red lanterns were hung everywhere, spreading a festive cheer.
Before Chao Ning left, he repeatedly reminded Jiang Nong of their plan: “I have plenty of books and fabrics from my mother and father—if you ever need anything you can’t get yourself, just ask me. Everyone knows Yu Lingxin saved my life, so it’s only natural for me to repay him.”
With Jiang Nong now attending the Empress Dowager, she lacked nothing. She waved him off, telling him to focus on his studies.
Xi was in the south, bordering the sea. It wasn’t until late December that a few light, salt-like snow flurries fell—but they melted before they could even settle, leaving the ground wet and slippery, muddying the hems of skirts.
Jiang Nong had to rise even earlier to brace herself against the damp, bone-chilling cold.
Usually, after classes at the academy, she would go to the Empress Dowager’s Chang’an Palace. The Empress Dowager, thinking the journey back and forth was too tiring for her, wanted to move her to another palace. The Court of the Imperial Treasury selected a few sunny, spacious ones for her to choose from.
Jiang Nong compared their locations. Still bearing the heavy responsibility of “reforming” Yu Lingxin, she deliberately chose one not too far from Yong Lane.
Yu Lingxin had been recovering at Nishan. By the time the New Year approached, messages had come several times saying the mountain’s damp cold was not conducive to healing—roads were slippery, winds strong, supplies scarce. The Court of the Imperial Treasury finally made arrangements to bring him back.
He returned on the twenty-ninth of the twelfth month. Snow was falling again. The horse’s hooves slipped, and the carriage axle broke on the road.
From Nishan to the palace, the roads were all mountain paths with no post stations. Only Xunliang and a eunuch driver were with him.
The eunuch had drooping triangular eyes. He kicked the horse’s leg viciously and cursed: “Bad luck! Of all the jobs, I get stuck with this one! Forty li of mountain road left—how are we supposed to get back?”
Xunliang knew the eunuch was cursing them by proxy. Fuming, he was about to rush out and argue when Yu Lingxin pulled him back and took out some loose silver: “Go find some farmers nearby and have them tend to the horse’s leg. It’s still early—we’ll walk back from here.”
“The farmers might have a donkey cart…”
Yu Lingxin closed his eyes and waved him off to handle it.
Xunliang swallowed the rest of his words and did as he was told.
Jiang Nong had known since morning that Yu Lingxin was due back today, but by evening he still hadn’t appeared. Worried something had gone wrong, she sent someone to the Court of the Imperial Treasury to inquire. All she learned was that the eunuch sent to escort him had returned on a donkey cart—but Yu Lingxin was nowhere to be seen.
The eunuch was brought before her. He stammered, his eyes darting nervously: “The snow made the roads slippery—the horse broke its leg and couldn’t go on. This servant managed to find a donkey cart, but when I searched along the way, I couldn’t find Prince Xin anywhere. So I came back alone.”
Jiang Nong frowned. Rong Mian snapped at him sharply: “If you don’t tell the truth, you’ll be sent to the side courts for a year of hard labor!”
In the past, Jiang Nong might not have had such influence, but now she had the Empress Dowager’s backing—she certainly did. The eunuch immediately trembled and confessed: “It was the young lords from the Marquis of Huaiyin’s and the Earl of Guangping’s households who made me do it! They wanted to teach Prince Xin a lesson—to make it hard for him to return. This servant was only following orders, Your Highness, Your Highness—you know how overbearing they are. I dared not disobey!”
A pack of utter fools. Jiang Nong’s eyelids twitched at the news.
She and Chao Ning had just decided on a new course of action, and now Wen Zuhuan was making trouble again.
“Go to the side courts and receive two months’ punishment yourself,” Jiang Nong waved, signaling for him to be taken away.
Yu Lingxin had little money on him. If he was lucky, he might catch a ride with farmers heading into the city. If he was clever, he’d find lodging with a farming family and send word back, so the palace could send someone to fetch him.
But Jiang Nong suspected that, with Yu Lingxin’s current disposition, he would choose the stupidest option.
She threw on a heavy cloak, told Rong Mian to bring a few hand warmers and long cloaks, and headed to Ningle Gate—the gate through which people normally entered and left the palace.
The guards on duty saw her approaching and assumed she wanted to leave the palace. They asked to see her token.
“Your Highness, it’s already dark—you can’t go out without guards. Why not wait until tomorrow morning?”
Jiang Nong said she was only there to wait for someone and told them to pay her no mind.
Wrapped in her white cloak, she paced back and forth on the road, head lowered, occasionally looking up to see if anyone was approaching in the distance.
Since her rebirth, every move had ripple effects. Everything connected to them was shifting subtly. Yu Lingxin’s injury and being abandoned by the eunuch mid-journey hadn’t happened in her past life.
Fine snow began to fall again. Rong Mian urged her: “It’s snowing again—let’s go back, Your Highness.”
The coals in the hand warmer had been changed three times. Bored, Jiang Nong crouched in a corner, keeping her robes off the ground, and passed the time by flicking one pebble at another. She handed the warmer back and told Rong Mian to change the coals once more: “Let’s wait a little longer. Once the gates are locked, we’ll go back.”
Rong Mian knew there was no persuading her—once she set her mind to something, no one could change it. She obediently went to change the coals.
Jiang Nong breathed warmth into her palms, rubbed them together, then rubbed her face. She took aim and flicked the pebble.
Hit!
Before she could celebrate, the Imperial Guard on the wall called down to her: “Your Highness, Your Highness—is that who you’ve been waiting for?”
They pointed with their lanterns toward the distance. Two figures—one tall, one short—were slowly approaching the gate through the fine snow.
Jiang Nong looked at their silhouettes—she wasn’t sure if they were the ones.
The guards waved at the two: “Hurry! Hurry! The gates lock in a quarter-hour!”
They seemed to hear, and quickened their pace.
Jiang Nong stamped her feet and rubbed her hands together.
The figures drew closer, closer—and she gradually made out the one in front.
The cold wind lifted fine snow like sand, and whipped Yu Lingxin’s long hair. He was dressed thinly—still in the same clothes from the autumn hunt. His white, soft hem fluttered. His head was bowed, as if accepting whatever came. His right hand rested over his chest, frozen red. Melting snow clung to his brows and temples, droplets trailing down his pale cheeks.
When he saw Jiang Nong, he pressed his lips together and walked faster.
Oh, how pitiful! Like a dog about to freeze to death.
Jiang Nong stepped forward to meet him, draping the cloak over his shoulders, and handed the other to Xunliang.
“How did you really walk all the way back?” The hand warmer wasn’t with her, so she wanted to rub his hands—but thought better of it. Instead, she rubbed his arms and shoulders through his clothes to warm him. “Oh, how cold you are.”
Xunliang, having wrapped himself in the cloak, finally began to thaw. His teeth chattering, he explained: “The horse went lame halfway. Our master was afraid it would freeze to death on the road or get slaughtered, so he gave the farmers all the money he had to care for it. Then that damned eunuch abandoned us and ran off. Forty li of mountain road—and our master’s wound had barely healed—he walked the whole way.”
Yu Lingxin shook his head, signaling him to stop: “It’s fine, Sister. I’m fine. I’m used to it. Don’t worry about me.”
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