As June approached, the sun blazed like fire.
In Xianfu Palace, the little princess finally woke up after a full hour-long nap.
Qingyang rubbed her eyes.
When she lowered her hands, she saw the carved railing of the canopy bed across from her, made of intricately hollowed-out wooden panels shaped like flowering crabapples.
This wasn’t the bed in her own room.
Following the carved flowers with her gaze, Qingyang suddenly remembered, after lunch, she had clung to her mother and refused to let go, so her mother carried her to her own bed and coaxed her to sleep.
Her mother’s voice had been soft and gentle, her hand gently patting her shoulder, and her embrace carried a light fragrance Qingyang loved…
Where was Mother?
Qingyang rolled over in one swift motion and saw that most of the bed, covered in pale green silk bedding, was empty.
Just as she was about to call out, she suddenly caught sight, through the white gauze canopy embroidered with green leaves and pink lotuses, of a familiar, graceful figure emerging from behind a nearby folding screen. It was her mother.
Seeing her mother, Qingyang calmed down and lay quietly, watching as her mother raised her slender arms high above her head, spinning lightly on tiptoe.
The hem of her skirt fluttered slightly like ripples across a lake, and even her footsteps were as soft as water.
Qingyang had seen the palace dancers perform during banquets.
They twirled so quickly, flitting like colorful butterflies, that she would always lose track of who was who.
With just a blink, a new dancer would appear.
But her mother danced slowly.
When she twirled to the doorway of the inner room, she even paused, looking down at her hands as if deep in thought.
After a moment, her mother spun back the way she came, her figure slipping behind the screen and then reappearing from the other side.
Annoyed that the gauze canopy was blocking her view, Qingyang scooted to the edge of the bed, stretched her legs out beyond the curtain, and used one hand to part the fabric to both sides.
When Consort Li reappeared from behind the screen, practicing her dance steps, she looked up and saw her daughter awake.
The little girl was perched right in the middle of the bed’s edge, surrounded from head to toe by the pale white canopy, her cheeks rosy.
She looked just like a baby animal poking its head out of its nest, adorable and impossibly pretty.
Forget the dance, Consort Li, in a snowy white nightgown, moved toward her daughter as lightly as a white butterfly.
With one hand, she lifted half the gauze canopy and hooked it onto a jade crescent hook above, and with eyes full of affection, she said, “Lin’er’s awake?
Why didn’t you call for Mother?”
The little princess had been born three years ago on the very day the founding emperor of Great Qi, Emperor Xingwu, held his ascension ceremony.
When the joyous news reached the hall, all the ministers congratulated the emperor, saying that Heaven had sent him a “lin child” to bring fortune.
Pleased, Emperor Xingwu had immediately decided on “Lin’er” as her milk name.
Qingyang tilted her head up at her mother.
“I was watching you dance.”
Consort Li flushed slightly and, forgetting about the other half of the curtain, knelt in front of her daughter and whispered, “Mother was just practicing a little. I haven’t learned it yet.
Lin’er has to keep it a secret for me, alright?
You mustn’t tell anyone, not even if your father comes back.”
Qingyang no longer remembered the father who had been away at war for over a year, even though her mother often mentioned how dearly he loved her.
She was just curious about the question in front of her.
“Why can’t I tell?”
Children around three or four are full of questions, and among Consort Li’s only two children, Qingyang was especially curious, almost as if she had inherited all the inquisitiveness that her older brother, the Third Prince, had lacked as a child.
Consort Li carefully replied, “It’s better to learn dancing at seven or eight.
Mother is already in her twenties, there’s not much she can learn anymore.
If word gets out, people will only laugh at me, and I don’t want to be laughed at.”
There were two kinds of women in the world who learned to dance: one, the pitiful girls who had no choice but to master song and dance to survive; the other, daughters of officials and wealthy families, who learned purely as a form of cultivation, something to show off before nobles in exchange for praise and admiration, not as a means of livelihood.
Consort Li’s father had been the magistrate of a small county in Jiangnan, and her birth mother was merely a concubine.
Her father had a reputation for honest governance, he had no interest in watching dance, nor the means or mindset to raise his daughters as talented ladies.
As a result, Consort Li had never even seen a dancer growing up, much less developed any interest in dancing.
The first few years after she became one of Emperor Xingwu’s consorts, he had still been a rebel king constantly at war, striving for the throne. Consort Li, along with his other family members, had lived behind the battle lines like a family of wealthy commoners.
Their days were filled with worry for him, no one treated themselves like royalty back then.
Only after Emperor Xingwu ascended the throne safely and brought his family into the palace did their royal life truly begin.
Consort Li remained cautious and reserved, her only outstanding feature being her striking beauty.
Even after being granted her title, she kept to her gentle, timid nature.
It was only after a few palace banquets that she developed an interest in dancing.
She wanted to dance simply because she liked it.
But she feared others would think she was trying to charm the emperor with her moves to gain more favor, so she always practiced in secret, only when no attendants were around.
And even if one day she became good at it, she swore she would never dance in front of Emperor Xingwu.
A true dragon of an emperor was intimidating enough on a regular day, was she looking to throw her back out or twist her legs by dancing to attract him?
Qingyang didn’t understand her mother’s real concerns.
She puffed up her little cheeks and said seriously, “If anyone dares laugh at Mother, I’ll make them copy thirty passages!”
Her eldest sister was very fierce, she had once slapped a palace maid who made a mistake.
The girl’s face swelled up and she cried pitifully, her cheeks streaked with tears.
The Noble Consort could be stern too.
Sometimes she made Second Brother copy books, and he would be so miserable he could barely eat.
Qingyang didn’t like hitting people, but anyone who dared mock her mother was a bad person and must be punished, punished with lots and lots of writing.
The little princess was so earnest that Consort Li’s heart melted.
She hugged her daughter tightly and gave her a big kiss, then added, “Anyway, it’s better to avoid trouble when we can. Mother just doesn’t want anyone else to know, not even your Third Brother. Lin’er, be good and help Mother keep the secret, alright?”
Qingyang asked, “Why is it better to avoid trouble?”
Consort Li: “…”
Fifteen minutes later, after promising her daughter that she would let her be the first to see the dance once she’d learned it properly, Consort Li finally managed to change the subject.
She called in the nursemaid and palace maids, and mother and daughter got up to wash and change.
After Qingyang had eaten a simple yet exquisite tray of pastries, it was just a little past the third quarter of the Shen hour.
Qingyang started missing her Third Brother and wanted to go find him at the Martial Practice Hall.
She knew that her brothers spent their mornings studying at Chongwen Pavilion in the Eastern Palace, and their afternoons practicing martial arts at the Martial Practice Hall.
Consort Li said, “No, your brothers are seriously practicing martial arts with their tutors, you mustn’t go and disturb them.”
Qingyang replied, “I won’t disturb them. I’ll just watch from the side.”
Consort Li said firmly, “Still no. Your father places great importance on your brothers’ studies. Even if you don’t cause a scene, you’ll distract them. If your father hears of it, he won’t be pleased. Besides, their tutors are all strict teachers. A child like you running over there to play would go against the rules of respecting one’s teachers.”
Seeing her mother’s serious expression, Qingyang gave up, at least for now, on the idea of going to the Martial Practice Hall.
To make it up to her daughter, Consort Li personally took her to play in the Imperial Garden.
When Qingyang said she wanted to ride a boat, Consort Li even ordered the palace staff to prepare a small single-canopy pleasure boat.
Though she herself was always cautious, her daughter was a princess, the emperor’s beloved child, so what was the harm in a little boat ride on the palace lake?
After one round around the lake, just as the boat was nearing the shore, Qingyang walked over to the bronze water clock set in the corner of the canopy and looked at the markings indicated by the falling arrows.
Consort Li smiled.
“Can Lin’er read it?”
Qingyang looked at the arrows and said, “Yes, Zhang Su taught me.”
Zhang Su was the youngest son of the Duke of Wei and also the Third Prince’s study companion.
Qingyang liked to play with her Third Brother, and he liked spending time with her too, but whenever she asked too many questions, he would get impatient and call Zhang Su over to answer them for her.
It was during one of those times, while her Third Brother was rushing through homework assigned by his tutor, that Zhang Su, having finished early, taught Qingyang how to read the water clock.
Of course, Qingyang had asked first.
If she and her brother hadn’t spoken to him, Zhang Su could go an entire day without uttering a single word, like a tree that silently followed her brother wherever he went.
Surprised by her daughter’s answer, Consort Li came over to wait for her to report the time.
Qingyang wasn’t entirely confident, and pointed at the markings, saying, “Is it six ke of the Shen hour, or seven?”
She could already recognize all twelve of the hour characters.
Proud, Consort Li gave her another kiss.
“Our Lin’er really has learned it. That means it’s six and a half ke, just one and a half more, and your Third Brother will be done with lessons.”
Qingyang loved being praised by her mother.
She leaned against her and laughed for a bit before saying, “I want to go wait for Third Brother in front of the Western Palace.”
The three princes lived in various halls of the Eastern Palace, but in the evenings after class, they would all come to the Western Palace to greet their mothers.
Consort Li didn’t want the First or Second Prince to see her and feel restrained, so she only sent Qingyang with her nursemaid and the chief eunuch who looked after her.
The Third Prince was named Qin Ren, eight years old, a quiet and handsome young prince.
From as far back as he could remember, Qin Ren knew he had two older brothers.
The eldest was the son of his father’s official wife and held the highest status, he had to show him respect.
The second was the son of the noble concubine whom the emperor married after the first wife passed away, his status was also high, and he too had to be respected.
After their father ascended the throne, the three of them became princes.
Their late mother was posthumously named empress, the noble concubine was promoted to Noble Consort, and his own birth mother became Consort Li.
As she had always taught him, he must continue to respect his two older brothers.
Respect them he did.
Qin Ren, who never lacked food or clothing, had never once thought about surpassing his brothers.
Due to the age gap, he rarely played with them.
Though they had to meet for studies and martial training, everyone was focused on their own work.
After class, the long palace paths would see the three princes walking in order of seniority, each followed by their own study companion, forming three neat lines.
Still, they were brothers, and the space between them wasn’t so great that they couldn’t talk if they wanted to.
Qin Ren walked at the back with Zhang Su, quietly listening as Second Brother Qin Bing complained to First Brother Qin Hong about the heavy workload assigned that day.
Qin Ren instinctively nodded, yes, there really was a lot of work.
He’d probably be busy writing until the Hai hour again.
Fourteen-year-old Qin Hong looked back.
His face, mature beyond his years, showed a trace of weariness as he reassured his two younger brothers behind him: “Strict teachers produce strong pupils. The more we learn, the more we’ll know. The more we practice, the faster we’ll improve. Stop complaining. Eat dinner and get started early.”
Eleven-year-old Qin Bing stared at his older brother’s face, suspicious.
“Big Brother, you don’t actually like homework either, do you?”
Qin Hong: “…Nonsense. If I didn’t like it, would I finish every single assignment?”
Qin Bing: “You’re just scared the tutors will complain to Father. Of all of us, you’re the most afraid of Father.”
Qin Hong: “…If you’re not scared, then don’t do your homework.”
With that, Qin Hong turned away.
After a whole afternoon of martial training in the summer heat, he was already exhausted.
He’d done his duty in keeping his brothers in line, there was no need to say anything more.
Just as the three princes were openly or silently worrying about their assignments, three figures suddenly rounded the corner up ahead on the palace path.
Leading the way was a little girl in a fresh green skirt, it was none other than their only royal sister, Princess Qingyang.
Brother and sister spotted each other from afar.
Qingyang paused for a moment, then gleefully abandoned her nursemaid and chief eunuch behind her and dashed toward her royal brothers.
Qin Hong smiled.
Of all the people in the palace, only his little sister had no heavy expectations of him, no scrutinizing gaze.
She was the only one who never brought him any pressure, just seeing her always lightened his heart.
Qin Bing immediately ran toward Qingyang.
He loved to pinch the little girl’s cheeks, and even more, he loved seeing her dodge and run like a frightened little bunny when she didn’t want him to.
Qin Hong saw what his second brother was planning and quickly grabbed Qin Bing’s arm to stop him.
As the two brothers tussled, Qingyang carefully and happily slipped past them, brushing along the palace wall, and dove straight into her Third Brother’s arms.
Qin Ren opened his arms to catch her, but he forgot that his legs were still soft from practice, and he stumbled backward from her impact.
Luckily, Zhang Su, who was just a year older than him, reacted in time and stepped up behind the Third Prince, pressing his body firmly against his back to keep him upright.
Qin Ren regained his footing, and Qingyang hugged him tightly.
She looked up and saw her Third Brother breaking into a smile, and also saw Zhang Su’s face, slightly taller than her brother’s and expressionless as always.
Zhang Su stood so close to her Third Brother that Qingyang tilted her head, trying to peer past his long lashes and see his eyes.
“Do you want a hug too?” she asked.
Why else would he come so close?
At her words, Zhang Su quickly stepped back and said in a low voice, “This humble servant wouldn’t dare.”
Before entering the palace, his father had warned him again and again: the Third Prince might be young, but he was still a prince, he must always show the proper respect due from a subject.
If that was true for the Third Prince, then it was all the more important to keep his distance from the princess.
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