“Fine, you say you want to marry Jiujiu. I shamelessly asked the Imperial Consort to grant you a chance to stand before the princess, and then you left the capital without a word!”
“You didn’t leave a message or a word to Jiujiu. Where does your confidence to marry a princess come from? I just don’t get it.”
Liang Madam had held this in a long time.
Their family owed Fang He, and Jiujiu was as good as half her own daughter, raised before her eyes.
But her brat dared to bully the girl, even if unintentionally, and that made it even worse.
“You’re so capable, always in control, never needing to say a word to anyone—why not just spend your life alone? Your father and I can always have another child.”
She finished scolding him and couldn’t be bothered to say more—just like his father, his brain was all crooked.
“One thing: do as you like, but don’t mess with the Nine Princess. If you do, and I find out, I’ll kill you myself before you disgrace the family.”
After Liang Madam left, Fan Lianghan wiped off his mother’s spittle, suddenly enlightened and full of regret.
He’d done everything perfectly to win his bride—except he’d left her out of the whole plan.
With his intelligence, once he found the problem, he thought of a solution right away.
He gave himself a hard slap.
From then on, he didn’t hurry to show himself to Jiujiu.
Apart from his duties, he holed up in his study, and whenever he went out, his hands were covered in cuts that never fully healed.
Even Kangxi noticed once, saying, “If you don’t have a talent for carving, don’t waste time. Focus on your duties and stop hanging around outside Moonlight Gate.”
The princess resided at Xisan Place—one had to pass Moonlight Gate and circle past Yuhua Pavilion to get there.
Kangxi was finally relieved to see his daughter show no interest in the brat, and given status, he still felt Baozhu was a better match for Jiujiu.
Fan Lianghan didn’t explain, only accepted the order respectfully.
But every three days, Jiujiu would receive a walnut micro-carving.
Held in the palm, the walnut was only a third the size of her palm, split in half, requiring a magnifying glass to see the pavilions, towers… and a young boy growing up.
At first, the scene was the Tianya Inn where Fang He had stayed—through the micro-carving, Jiujiu could see her mother’s carefree days in Jiangnan.
Later, Fan Lianghan was born.
He grew up at the inn and the old Fan home, and due to the quarrels between his parents and the liveliness of the inn, he chose early to stay with his tutor.
From his birth to his eighteenth year as a gentleman, those eighteen years were condensed into eighteen walnut micro-carvings.
When the capital saw its first snow of the forty-second year, Jiujiu finally received the micro-carving of the private room where she first met Fan Lianghan.
Even with a magnifying glass, Jiujiu had to look closely to see the people inside.
Her mother and Aunt Liang were only faceless silhouettes, while only she was vividly detailed—her autumn-water eyes gazing straight at the young man who also looked down at her.
Uxihan nearly pressed her eyeball to the magnifier, exclaiming nonstop.
“What does this mean? Is he saying he fell for you at first sight, even if he didn’t realize it?”
Jiujiu laughed softly, “As if. Back then, he just thought I was a troublesome social obligation.”
So she’d treated her favorite jade pendant as a casual ‘ticket’, tossing it into the little lake under the rockery.
Uxihan didn’t look up, but her confusion was obvious.
“Then why did he send this? What are you two thinking?”
Micro-carving in Jiangnan could be passed down as an heirloom—without talent and endless practice, it was impossible to achieve.
It’s said one micro-carving can take a month or more to complete.
For Fan Lianghan to produce one a day—even if he had some prepared, it was a tight schedule.
No wonder his hands never healed—he must have spent every waking moment carving, except for basic sleep.
These two are something else—one obviously cares but pretends otherwise; the other carves into walnut shells yet only stands silently in the shadows.
Can’t they just talk?
Jiujiu secretly guessed: Fan Lianghan had given her his whole life in these carvings. If she didn’t choose him, that would be it.
And just as she predicted, three days later, no more micro-carvings came.
She and Uxihan only heard that the imperial bodyguard Fan had finally put down his carving knife.
“Wow! Is the record of his life finished, starting from now?” Even Uxihan was touched.
She didn’t care much about consorts or romance, but such a pursuit was truly admirable.
Sadly, Jiujiu remained steadfast, acting as if nothing had happened—still going out with Erbao and the others, never paying Fan Lianghan any mind.
***
By the twelfth month, officials from across the land came to the capital to report, including Dong’e Feiyan Gu.
News soon spread that the emperor planned to grant Nine Princess in marriage to Dong’e Tahui, son of Feiyan Gu—likely Nine Princess herself.
Fan Lianghan panicked, finally finding a chance to corner Jiujiu in Yuhua Pavilion.
“The princess is marrying Tahui?”
Jiujiu replied coolly, “It’s only an imperial edict for now. The actual marriage may take years. Is Brother Fan here to give his early blessing?”
Fan Lianghan cursed under his breath, then knelt decisively, “This humble official cannot do it. I am more suited to the princess than Tahui.”
He laid out his own advantages and Tahui’s flaws—especially his lack of wit—even stepping on Baozhu for good measure.
Jiujiu’s stomach ached from holding in laughter, but she kept her face impassive.
“Too bad, Brother Fan, you’re too late. No matter how many advantages you list, they can’t outweigh my affection for—”
“I am fond of the princess!” Fan Lianghan cut her off, looking straight at her, his eyes so anxious they could burn.
“Jiujiu, I am fond of you.”
“Oh really…” Jiujiu raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking up at the second floor of Yuhua Pavilion with a smile.
“Father, did you hear that?”
Fan Lianghan’s heart skipped, his first time ever panicking as he looked up to see Kangxi’s dark expression.
Kangxi turned to leave, ordering coldly, “Beat this scoundrel fifty times and throw him out of the palace! If he dares make my daughter cry and still dares to make private promises—beat him to death if need be, then we’ll discuss the rest.”
Fan Lianghan: “…….”
Even as he was dragged away, he kept his eyes on Jiujiu.
With his intelligence, if he didn’t see through the marriage setup now, he’d be a fool.
Jiujiu saw him looking back, but remained unruffled, waving at Li Dequan.
“Li Anda, please wait a moment.”
Li Dequan quickly told the guards to stop.
Jiujiu strolled up to Fan Lianghan, looked up and smiled.
“Brother Fan, you should know my temperament by now?”
“If you dare make me unhappy, I’ll make you even unhappier. If you do anything I don’t like, even if I’m fond of you, I won’t hesitate to have my father beat you within an inch of your life.”
Her mother had told her: selfish people are happier, and she was indeed a selfish, ruthless princess, with no intention of changing.
“As for what you did before, it has nothing to do with me. Since your feelings were never made known, I’ll pretend you had none.”
“If you dare bother me again, consider whether your tricks will work, and whether you can bear the consequences.”
Fan Lianghan paused, then smiled suddenly—still as gentle as when they first met, but now without any distance, his gaze full of deep emotion.
He said warmly, “This humble official accepts the princess’s teaching. Let’s not mention the past—now, I want you to know: my heart is as steadfast as a rock, and will never change.”
Luckily, he didn’t like demure, gentle women anyway…
At this moment, Fan Lianghan finally understood—his erratic heartbeat, his discomfort, were all for one thing.
He did truly like this decisive princess who had set her heart with a jade pendant at their very first meeting—he was simply too slow to realize it.
But as long as Nine Princess wasn’t married, it wasn’t too late.
***
Ten days later, after taking fifty blows, Fan Lianghan, pale-faced, stood once more in Hongde Hall, kneeling firmly before Fang He, the Fifteenth Prince, and the others.
“This humble official Fan Lianghan, guilty of overstepping and offending, is willing to accept any punishment, and also vows to serve His Majesty with loyalty unto death—only begs His Majesty’s permission to marry the Nine Princess!”
Twenty days later, on the eve of the New Year’s banquet, he made a thousand Kongming Lanterns for Jiujiu, letting everyone know of his devotion to her.
Even when people called him a fool, even when Tahui and Baozhu, taking advantage of his still-healing wounds, beat him up together, Fan Lianghan never relented.
In the spring of the forty-third year, Fan Lianghan risked his life to break the alliance between Luosha and Tsewang Araptan that threatened the borders.
The Ninth Princess Foergochun finally came of age.
Fan Lianghan again sought audience at Qianqing Palace, offering all his achievements in exchange for a chance to marry Nine Princess.
This time, Jiujiu nodded in agreement.
No other reason—Fan Lianghan had trained a flock of pigeons, and after leaving the capital again, he sent messages every day expressing his longing for her.
Until, in order to earn the right to marry her, he was gravely wounded behind enemy lines, and for days no message arrived.
Jiujiu was so anxious she nearly ran to Beimeng herself—finally confirming her heart.
She had always wanted this man.
He was worth giving up all the other possibilities.
***
Three years later, they finally married.
After Fan Lianghan made several contributions to the court and Fang He and her daughter persuaded Kangxi, he finally granted them marriage, but decreed the wedding be in three years.
Those close to them knew well: Jiujiu loved Fan Lianghan, and their correspondence and daily records hinted at it.
But in the capital and in history books, all anyone said was that the consort loved the Nine Princess madly—and that, to later generations, became a great unsolved mystery.
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