Chapter 3
Since that night when she returned from the Longevity Palace, He Hui had not slept peacefully for several days.
She heard that the Imperial Horse Supervisor had caught a young maid guilty of something. A few days later, a night patrol attendant surnamed Li, for reasons unknown, was also flogged dozens of times and lay bedridden, unable to rise.
When she asked where the culprit was caught and what the offense was, Yao Zhu merely told He Hui not to inquire further.
“Miss, it’s someone else’s affair, nothing to do with you.”
She spoke the truth.
He Hui stared vacantly at herself in the bronze mirror. Her large black eyes were ink-dark, giving her a faintly dazed look.
This was not home; here, she could not speak as she pleased. One misstep, even a single wrong word, could bring disaster.
Perhaps, indeed, they were after that maid and it had nothing to do with her. That night, she had been frightening herself.
He Hui felt listless for days and even forgot about the debt she owed. When she remembered, it was already the end of May.
She took her monthly wages and tried to ask around, but everyone claimed not to know the person.
“The Western Garden isn’t like the inner palace, where the gates are locked at sunset. Even so, maids aren’t allowed to wander at night. There are attendants at Taiye Lake during the day to row boats for the nobles, but at night, everyone goes off duty. Who would still be there? Our palace nobles aren’t like those outside, idle enough to spend nights boating and listening to music.”
It made sense, but with no leads, He Hui felt disappointed.
Knowing He Hui owed someone money, others advised her, “He doesn’t know your name—why worry? Keep your money safe; the palace has endless places needing silver. You should plan for yourself. Better to avoid trouble. If he ever comes looking, then repay him.”
He Hui said nothing, clutching her meager silver ingots. Yet at night, she still went to Taiye Lake.
But the lake was vast, and after several days searching, she found no trace of the person and had to let the matter rest.
—
The Dragon Boat Festival had passed, and the weather grew hotter by the day. The palace ladies discarded their old sachets and embroidered tiger charms, and the Wardrobe Bureau moved boxes from palace to palace.
Silver gauze shirts, upright-collared robes, sleeveless jackets, trailing skirts—so many garments dazzled the eye.
When He Hui first entered the palace, she lived in a side hall of the Palace of Reserved Elegance in the Forbidden City. Two months ago, the Empress Dowager, tired of the stuffy palace, moved to the Western Garden and brought He Hui along.
The Empress Dowager lived in the Longevity Palace, while He Hui was placed in Shouming Hall, the nearest residence.
Initially, He Hui was alone there. Later, a group of girls around her age moved in.
They were mostly fifteen or sixteen, as vibrant as the pomegranate flowers of her hometown. He Hui leaned at the door, dazzled by their beauty, when one girl sized her up, asking, “Are you a new candidate? Why haven’t I seen you before?”
He Hui quickly shook her head.
Candidates were chosen as future consorts for the Emperor—she was not one. Though all would marry into the royal family, son and father had to be distinguished.
Once they learned He Hui was brought by the Empress Dowager to be considered for Prince Ning, their attitude softened considerably. Though candidates privately held grudges against each other, they were eager to befriend He Hui.
If all went well, He Hui would be their “daughter-in-law.” Thus, their gazes carried a hint of affection.
Yet He Hui pitied them, sighing over these flower-like lives.
Prince Ning was sixteen—young and full of vigor. Even without affection, his handsome appearance made life bearable. The Emperor, being of the older generation, was likely aged.
The old men in her hometown had white hair, wrinkled faces, and some were so frail that even speaking left phlegm in their throats.
She’d heard the Emperor grew up following the late sovereign across battlefields, suffering untold wounds. After all these years, he had only Prince Ning as a son, likely his body had been ruined by war. These candidates, marrying him, would share a bed with an aged body, unlikely to bear children, doomed to end their days in solitude—it was a pity.
She thought so, but dared not speak. Speaking against the imperial family was a grave offense—punishable by death. Even truth had to rot in her throat.
That day, as usual, Yao the Palace Scholar held class. The candidates gathered, whispering about something. He Hui listened in and found they spoke of the Emperor, somewhat listlessly. She turned and snipped a branch from the potted plant.
“Did you hear? His Majesty is coming to the Western Garden!”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon, I saw many people moving boxes near the Lingxing Gate. I thought it was the Inner Bureau sending things. After giving the gatekeeper some gold, he told me it was for the Emperor’s arrival. I heard noise and went to look again. I saw…”
—
“What did you see? Hurry and tell us,” a candidate urged.
“I saw a crowd escorting a grand sedan, many people carrying things. Some items looked like umbrellas but were much bigger and more impressive. And the sedan—it was bright yellow…”
“That’s called an imperial palanquin.”
Suddenly, a clear female voice interrupted her account. Everyone was startled, quickly composed themselves, and took their seats.
He Hui was startled too, nearly snipping her finger. She set aside the scissors and looked up.
Yao Sisi stood before them, dressed in a bright red round-collared robe with a green and yellow horse-face skirt. Her hair was neatly arranged in a silver bun, every strand in place. Because of her beauty, her plain attire only accentuated her vibrant presence.
Yao Sisi was famed in the palace for her scholarship.
The female scholars in the Palace Administration were different from He Hui. They were all literate, versed in history and poetry, able to compose verse and prose at will. Some of their poems were praised by the Empress Dowager and consorts, widely sung in the palace.
Yao Sisi was the foremost among them.
She was talented, beautiful, and meticulous. He Hui thought, if she were Prince Ning, she would want such a person as her princess, not an illiterate country girl like herself.
Perhaps sensing He Hui’s gaze, Yao Sisi glanced at her. He Hui lowered her head, and when she looked up again, Yao Sisi’s attention had moved on.
After Yao Sisi finished explaining palace rules, several unfamiliar attendants politely escorted away the candidate who had been gossiping about the Emperor.
By nightfall, that candidate’s bedding was gone, leaving only a solid bed board.
The stewardess, her sleeves folded, spoke respectfully, yet her words chilled the soul: “Miss Sun broke the rules and will no longer be here. Please take her as a warning: be cautious with your words and actions.”
No longer here—where could she go?
Yao Zhu combed He Hui’s hair, her manner habitual. “Most likely sent to some bureau as a low-ranking maid, then paired with a fire attendant as a food companion. When she’s old and feeble, she’ll be sent to the laundry bureau outside the palace to await death.”
He Hui stared blankly. “Why not let her return home?”
“Once a woman enters the palace, she never leaves easily,” Yao Zhu replied as she spread the bedding. “She’s a candidate; if she went home, outsiders would guess the reason. She’d never marry well—better to stay in the palace.”
He Hui sat in a daze for a long time before asking, “What if I can’t become the princess?”
Yao Zhu gazed at her silently.
At length, she helped her up, felt her cold fingers, and said, “Miss, let’s rest.”
She blew out the candle. The room fell instantly into darkness, more silent than usual, and the sound of raindrops on leaves could faintly be heard.
Even though they sometimes quarreled in private, at this moment, the candidates felt a kinship in misfortune.
He Hui curled herself in the corner, clutching her bedding.
Some things Yao Zhu hadn’t said, but He Hui understood.
She was brought into the palace only because the Empress Dowager remembered an old bond with her grandmother. Once that favor was exhausted, if she failed to become the princess, her fate would be no better than Sun’s.
Imperial power was like a sharp blade. For the first time, it took form before her, blood-stained and hanging in the void, with the Emperor in dragon robes standing above, turning his face—a head of white hair, a ghastly visage.
He Hui quickly covered her head with the quilt.
She thought, it was time to actively curry favor with Prince Ning. She could no longer sit and wait.
But first, she had to repay the silver she owed.
Yet with so many eunuchs in the palace, finding one was like searching for a needle in the sea. Moreover, He Hui’s days were filled with lessons, leaving little time to search. Nearly a month passed, and there was still no sign of him.
One morning, He Hui rose early and went again to Taiye Lake, but the wind there left her dizzy and she found nothing.
After flower arranging with the candidates and lunch, she spent over an hour at the Food Bureau, then carried a meal box along the Sheep Alley toward Taisu Hall.
Passing the Jade Xi Palace, the Emperor’s residence, she saw the grand halls, soaring eaves, and bright yellow glazed tiles as if reaching the sky. At the gate, imperial guards stood with swords, their faces grim. Sensing someone’s presence, they glanced at her from afar.
He Hui kept her head down, tried to make herself invisible, and hurried along the wall. Only when she felt no gaze behind did she relax slightly. Her palm was icy, her back damp with sweat.
Luckily, she was to marry Prince Ning, not the Emperor. Otherwise, fear alone would have undone her before marriage.
—
Truly terrifying!
Her impression of the Emperor fell yet again.
She dared not look back and hurried on.
The news that Prince Ning now lived in Taisu Hall came from Yao Zhu.
When He Hui first asked about Prince Ning, Yao Zhu looked as if the sun had risen in the west, stunned for a while before saying, “Miss, you should have done this long ago.”
He Hui forced a smile and went back to tending her battered flowers.
She remembered well her first encounter with Prince Ning.
She was brought to the prince’s quarters, nervous and curious, wondering what to say to make a good impression.
She waited so long that sweat beaded her brow before Prince Ning arrived, but he did not come out. From behind the screen, as a maid wiped his hands, he asked carelessly, “Is this the blockhead Grandmother found?”
At the time, she didn’t understand what “blockhead” meant. She only sensed Prince Ning’s hostility.
Later, after spending time in the palace, she learned he was insulting her—a country bumpkin.
Every subsequent meeting ended badly. In front of the Empress Dowager, he was polite enough, but as soon as he turned away, his face changed and he warned her, “Stay away from me.”
If someone dislikes you, there’s nothing for it but to obey—maybe you’ll earn a bit of favor.
If not for seeing Miss Sun’s fate, He Hui would have been happy never to see him.
But she was afraid. Compared to being paired with a eunuch or sent out of the palace to marry someone she disliked, becoming a princess truly was the best option.
He Hui arrived at Taisu Hall. The palace servants seemed surprised to see her, flustered and hesitant about whether to announce her presence.
He Hui gave one of them a tiger’s eye candy she’d hidden—an Empress Dowager’s reward, rare outside.
Yet the maid seemed unimpressed, her eyes saying, “What’s so special? Don’t show off here.”
He Hui quietly put the candy away.
“Miss, please wait in the side hall. I’ll inform the young master.”
Before she finished, laughter echoed faintly through the window—a man and a woman’s voices.
“You’ve lost this game, young master.” He Hui listened closely and realized it was Yao Sisi.
“What’s my penalty?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Good girl, let me tell you a joke. Once, under Huang Mountain, there lived an old man…”
The maid saw He Hui standing like a wooden post and impatiently urged, “Miss Shen?”
He Hui snapped out of her daze and nodded, confusion rising.
Was she imagining things? Why did the voice inside sound so familiar, as if she’d heard it somewhere before?
She lifted her skirt to climb the steps, when suddenly she halted and turned back.
At that moment, Prince Ning leaned forward to playfully touch Yao Sisi’s nose. His smiling profile appeared through the half-open window, falling squarely into He Hui’s gaze.
Her eyes widened; the meal box nearly slipped from her hands.
She remembered.
He was the benefactor who had helped her escape danger more than a month ago.