Chapter 73

When leaving Renshou Palace, Zhao Rongzhang forgot to ride the horse she had brought with her, walking step by step, slowly.

She came to a halt before Lingxiao Hall, looking up at the plaque that had been taken down and rehung many times before.

Guan Xuan stood silently behind her, and Zhao Rongzhang gazed silently at the two characters “Lingxiao.”

She smiled, but tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. She stepped over the threshold and ran all the way into her mother’s former bedchamber. Her mother’s bed was gone, the dazzling dressing table was gone, and the vase that occasionally stood by the window was gone too. Everything she had brought when she moved in last year had been smashed to pieces. There was no trace of her mother’s presence left here.

She wept here, just as she had countless times as a child, crying before her mother.

She had once doubted her mother’s love for her, resented her for insisting on giving birth to a royal brother, which ultimately led to her tragic death on the birthing bed. Little did she know, her mother had been too reckless…

Amidst the ruins before her, washed over and over by her tears, she silently made a vow in her heart.

A shard of a glazed mirror was picked up from the ground, wiped clean, and held before her. Zhao Rongzhang stared at the reflection in the shard—her own features, which bore a seventy percent resemblance to her mother’s plain face.

Her tears stopped. She took the shard from Guan Xuan’s hands. The spirit of Lingxiao had never disappeared; it had always been within her, in her bloodline.

During the Qingming Festival, a fine drizzle fell incessantly. After paying respects at Fengxian Hall before the newly carved memorial tablet for Lingxiao, Zhao Rongzhang knelt devoutly on a prayer mat and recited a passage of scripture. At that moment, not far from the imperial city, the mournful tolling of the funeral bell from Zhihua Temple began—heavy, rhythmic, and unceasing. Eunuchs hurried to report to every palace: “The Emperor has passed away—”

Zhao Rongzhang walked unhurriedly toward Jinshen Hall.

Zhao Jue had been gravely ill for many days, with imperial physicians at a loss. His coffin had been prepared days earlier. The true cause of his death, of course, was not illness—it was poison Zhao Rongzhang had ordered to be added to his daily meals. This specially concocted poison was perfectly measured—it would not prolong his life by a single day, nor would it end it prematurely.

Zhao Rongzhang dressed her young brother, Zhao Zhu, in a slightly oversized dragon robe and, amid the bowed heads of ministers and their cries of “Long live the Emperor,” seated him upon the dragon throne.

In the year that followed, Eldest Princess Zhao Rongzhang, ruling from behind the scenes with her young brother, ruthlessly purged the remnants of Prince Su’s faction, reformed the imperial examination system, promoted officials from humble backgrounds, strengthened the court’s civil and military governance, and opened mutual markets with the Rong Di, bringing a complete halt to the war between the two nations. After years of turmoil, Great Zhou finally entered a period of recuperation. Governance gradually became clear and just, the national treasury filled, and the people sang praises.

The Princess’s Mansion was rebuilt, though it no longer used the exorbitantly expensive Golden Phoebe wood. Instead, it was constructed according to the original specifications using Huanghua pine, commonly found throughout the capital city. Zhao Rongzhang would occasionally return to the Princess’s Mansion to sit for a while, sipping tea, feeding the fish, or casting a fishing line.

Another midsummer arrived. After waking from a drowsy afternoon nap, while Guan Xuan turned to fetch clothing, the Princess quietly exchanged a glance with Ming Luo. Understanding her meaning, Ming Luo retrieved a small wooden cage from behind the door and hid it behind the Princess.

Guan Xuan soon brought over a set of gauze garments and helped the Princess dress.

Though the cut of the gauze clothing was not particularly exquisite, it was light and clung to the skin. Zhao Rongzhang glanced at the stitching on the sleeves and hem, her eyes curving into a smile as she asked, “Did you make this yourself?”

The Princess had guessed it right away, leaving little room for surprise, but this made Guan Xuan’s heart swell with sweetness. The tips of his ears flushed slightly. “Yes.”

“So skilled with your hands?” Zhao Rongzhang wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to watch his shy expression. “We’ve been sneaking around without any formal ties for so long, and you never seemed embarrassed. Yet now, giving me a piece of clothing makes you bashful?”

“Serving the Princess is my greatest honor. The Princess’s favor,” Guan Xuan embraced her, kissing her cheeks and ears, his face now completely flushed, “stirs my heart.”

“I have something for you too.” Zhao Rongzhang lifted the wooden cage and placed it before him.

Guan Xuan shifted his gaze and saw a small yellow-and-white kitten curled up, fast asleep inside the wooden cage. Zhao Rongzhang took the kitten out of the cage and tucked it into his arms, smiling as she said, “A little cat for Little Cat.”

Guan Xuan cradled the soft, fluffy kitten in his arms. The kitten let out delicate mews and immediately began climbing onto him. It had been a long time since the Princess had called him Little Cat. Guan Xuan nuzzled the kitten’s furry head, delighted. “What should we name it?”

“It’s your kitten, you choose,” Zhao Rongzhang tugged at his waistband, wrapping her arms around his waist. “After all, my Little Cat is named Guan Xuan.”

Touched, Guan Xuan pressed his cheek against hers and whispered, “Please, Princess, bestow a name upon the kitten’s kitten.”

Leaning against his shoulder, Zhao Rongzhang thought for a moment. “Then let’s call it Rongyi. May it live an easy life, and may we all live easily, free from worries and sorrows.”

The kitten jumped down from Guan Xuan’s arm and scampered off to play inside the bed curtains. Guan Xuan kissed the Princess’s neck and followed her into the bed. The thin gauze garments offered little resistance, soon torn and damp, drifting down outside the curtains.

“You… you’re becoming more and more,” as dusk approached, Zhao Rongzhang turned her face weakly to the side, casting a glare over her shoulder, “insatiable.”

Her heat toxin flare-ups had become rare, yet he frequently tempted her, and once they began, it seemed endless, with new variations each day.

Lost in passion, Guan Xuan could not bear to see her alluring lips part. He hardly registered her words, instead eagerly cupping her face and kissing her deeply.

Only when the Princess loved him did he truly feel alive. And to be alive was to harbor boundless, overwhelming desires.

Zhao Rongzhang had intended to discuss serious matters with him, but after being entangled like this, her mind was filled only with worldly desires and the pleasures of love. She turned and held him tightly.

The illness Zhao Zhu had carried since birth was becoming increasingly apparent. The Grand Empress Dowager often held him, sighing as she stroked his head.

Seeing Zhao Rongzhang enter from outside, she relayed Imperial Physician Yu’s recent words and added, “Your mother thought too far ahead.”

Zhao Zhu’s illness was not entirely incurable, but to treat it, bloodletting was unavoidable. Lingxiao had been too resolute.

Zhao Rongzhang did not say a word, only proceeding as usual to bring up some memorials that required discussion, reading them to her one by one. The Grand Empress Dowager helplessly interrupted, “My eyes are dim with age; I cannot bear the responsibility of governing. There is no need to read further.”

Zhao Rongzhang closed the memorial, his eyes on Zhao Zhu, but his words were addressed to her: “Zhao Zhu was raised by you. However you wish to treat him well, I will support it. But let us both plan ahead.”

He drew out a red-sealed memorial from the very bottom, unfolded it, and presented it before the Grand Empress Dowager. “You are the elder I respect most, always and forever. This is a significant matter to me. With Mother and Emperor Father gone, I am still young and would like you to see it first.”

The Grand Empress Dowager lowered her gaze for a brief glance, only then realizing it was not a memorial at all, but a Marriage Certificate.

After boarding the sedan chair, Zhao Rongzhang took out the red envelope again for another look. The Phoenix Seal was still fresh, stamped squarely over their names.

“Greetings, Eldest Princess.”

Suddenly, someone bowed by the roadside. Zhao Rongzhang looked up—it was Ren Ping.

“Have you returned to assume your post?”

“I am grateful for Your Highness’s benevolence in granting this humble official the opportunity to resume my duties.”

Zhao Rongzhang remarked candidly, “Your character is rather ordinary, but you excel in recognizing the times and knowing your own limits. The position of Commander of the Left of the Imperial Guards is now held by Ming Luo, but the role of Commander is still yours alone. You must impart all your knowledge and assist her well.”

“This official obeys the decree.”

Zhao Rongzhang ordered the sedan chair to proceed, but Ren Ping spoke up again, “Eldest Princess—”

Zhao Rongzhang turned back.

Ren Ping glanced around, confirming that Guan Xuan happened to be absent today. Zhao Rongzhang discerned his thoughts and, resting her chin on her hand, smiled, “He is indeed not here. Do you have something to discuss with him?”

She had deliberately sent him away today.

“No, this official has something that should have been given to Your Highness a year ago.” Ren Ping drew a small porcelain bottle from his robe and presented it with cupped hands.

A palace maid took the bottle and handed it to Zhao Rongzhang. She examined it briefly, then opened it to find several small red pills emitting a faint, delicate fragrance.

“That year, when Mysterious Cat was trapped in Suzhou City, perhaps sensing his life was nearing its end, he entrusted this to me to deliver on his behalf. I never expected it would be delayed until today for this opportunity.”

“What is this?”

Guan Xuan had never mentioned this matter to her.

Ren Ping shook his head.

Guan Xuan returned after completing the task assigned by the Princess. It was simple: kill a corrupt official who was notorious for his crimes but had evaded conviction due to destroyed evidence and missing witnesses. Guan Xuan hung his head at the bustling market entrance.

Zhao Rongzhang had just finished reviewing the memorials and, resting her head on her hand, watched as he cleaned himself up and then attended to the little cat named Rong Yi.

“Today is Qixi Festival, isn’t it?”

Guan Xuan meticulously combed the little cat’s fur. “Mm. I have prepared a new gift for the Princess.”

But the Princess did not ask what it was, shifting to another topic instead: “That question I asked you last year—have you figured it out?”

Guan Xuan lowered his gaze. Indeed, a question had troubled him for a long time, but up to now, the Princess still loved him dearly, loved only him, so he no longer dwelled on it daily. Unsure if the Princess was referring to the same question he had in mind, he hesitantly shook his head.

Zhao Rongzhang walked over, bent down, and pinched his cheek, smiling. “If I truly had the throne and needed a daughter to inherit it, and someone with ill intentions impersonated her biological father in an attempt to seize power, what would you do?”

“I would kill them,” Guan Xuan said, looking into the Princess’s eyes.

“I have a way to prevent it at the source.” Zhao Rongzhang kissed his eyelashes and unfolded the Marriage Certificate bearing both their names. “I’ll marry you, giving her birth father a rightful status. What do you think?”

Guan Xuan’s eyes widened, unblinking, gradually tinged with a faint red around the rims. He gently grasped the Princess’s sleeve.

Zhao Rongzhang had long considered the answer to this question. The birth father of the future Crown Princess could not hold any status whatsoever; otherwise, in this era where men’s voices still carried more weight, ambitious individuals might pressure her with so-called family lineage to usurp power. Guan Xuan had neither father nor mother. Aside from her, no one could trace his origins. He had no family, no lineage—he had only her. In this regard alone, no one was more suitable than him.

Moreover, he was healthy, handsome, and intelligent. Only such quality was worthy of contributing to her daughter’s lineage.

On the auspicious day of the eighth month, second day of the Bingwu year, the wedding procession commenced.

Inside and outside the palace, within and beyond the Princess’s Mansion, red silks hung high, and double-happiness characters adorned every surface. The sound of firecrackers echoed through every street, as the common people cheered, chasing the grand wedding procession, children in arms scrambling for the golden peanuts and silver melon seeds scattered from the carriages.

“The groom, the groom! So handsome!” children exclaimed, clapping excitedly at the sight of the youth riding out from the Princess’s Mansion on horseback.

The entire capital was packed to the brim. Guan Xuan paraded through the streets and was finally escorted into the palace city just before the auspicious hour.

That night, beside the Red Gauze Canopy, a pair of red candles illuminated the room, their wicks crackling softly.

Zhao Rongzhang, wearing the phoenix crown, entered with her hands clasped behind her back. Seeing the tall youth seated by the bed, she smiled in surprise and lightly stepped before him. “Did you put on the Red Bridal Veil yourself?”

The youth blinked beneath the veil. “Mm.”

According to the rites of this dynasty, the bride was to wear a veil over her phoenix crown. But their wedding had seen many innovations by the Princess—she refused to wear it. When he entered the bridal chamber, he happened to see the Red Bridal Veil she had tossed onto the table. Remembering he was her possession, that she should be the one to unveil him, he naturally put it on.

Zhao Rongzhang laughed, using the Round Fan to lift the veil bit by bit from below, meeting his eyes as she said, “You’re too adorable, too much to my liking.”

The Round Fan was cast aside, the veil rising and falling, enveloping them both. Zhao Rongzhang kissed him, pressing him down onto the bed.

Guan Xuan lowered his gaze with a smile, turning over to intertwine his fingers with hers.

The red candles burned through the night.

——

[End of Main Text]