No matter how meticulous Gao Yuexing was in her planning, there were always moments of oversight.
After Consort Hui was brought to justice, the palace quieted, and no more vexing matters plagued her daily. Time drifted on, and soon, the first snow of winter arrived.
Li Fuxiang fell gravely ill.
At the time, Yaonu had already left the capital. Before leaving, he had prepared a new batch of medicine sufficient for a year, promising to return in the autumn of the following year.
On the night of the heavy snowfall, Li Fuxiang suffered a severe asthma attack that startled the Emperor awake. The Emperor stayed up half the night tending to him. As dawn approached, he pushed open the window to find the delicate snowflakes already blanketing the eaves.
Early in the morning, Gao Yuexing rushed over to check on him. She couldn’t help but feel there was no reason for his persistent illness—his body had clearly grown stronger with training, and just the day before, he had been lively and without a trace of sickness.
Gao Yuexing watched him drink his medicine, took the empty bowl away, and ordered the servants to clean up. She then asked, “You were born in winter. Was it snowing on the day you were born?”
Li Fuxiang replied no. He said, “It rained on the day I was born.”
It rained heavily.
What seemed like a casual question from Gao Yuexing had inadvertently struck a sore spot in the Emperor’s heart, though she herself remained unaware.
The Prince Xiang’s residence had been completed for quite some time. If left unoccupied for another two years, it would likely be overgrown with weeds. The Emperor had been wavering, intending to release Li Fuxiang from the palace around the New Year. However, with his recent illness, the Emperor reconsidered.
He thought it would be better to wait until Li Fuxiang’s future wedding. With Gao Yuexing by his side to care for him, it wouldn’t be too late to let him go then.
The Emperor favored making Li Fuxiang the Crown Prince but was reluctant to burden him with such responsibilities too early. The Emperor, more than anyone, understood how much freedom one must forfeit to be an emperor. A young man has only a few years of golden youth—perhaps it was better to wait a little longer.
Li Fuxiang’s birthday was approaching.
He convalesced until the Winter Solstice, when he finally began to look healthier.
The capital was already preparing for the Lantern Festival on the first day of the twelfth lunar month.
The Emperor prepared a birthday gift for him. He didn’t keep it a secret; it was placed openly on the desk.
It was a small golden coronet.
Adorned with nine pearls.
Gao Yuexing often saw it, and even court officials who occasionally visited the Qianqing Palace to see the Emperor had glimpsed it.
If this coronet was intended for Li Fuxiang, it was clearly improper.
The number nine represented the Emperor’s supreme status.
For a mere prince like Li Fuxiang, a coronet with nine pearls was an obvious breach of protocol.
Yet, the Emperor placed it there, plain for all to see.
Gao Yuexing received a letter from her family and told Li Fuxiang, “After celebrating your birthday, I’ll be going home.”
That afternoon, Li Fuxiang was lying on a chaise, his eyes half-closed, nearly drifting off to sleep. Upon hearing her words, he suddenly sat up and asked, “You… When will you return?”
Gao Yuexing looked at him and said, “I won’t.”
In a few days, Gao Yuexing’s elder sister was to be married. As Gao Yuexing herself grew older, it was time for her to return home and prepare for her own marriage.
Their engagement had long been set, and Gao Yuexing needed to start her preparations early.
Gao Yuexing said to Li Fuxiang, “If you want to see me again, prepare a four-horse carriage and marry me.”
Li Fuxiang said nothing but calculated silently. The year was almost over, and Gao Yuexing’s birthday was in the spring. If he could endure one more year, he could rightfully take her as his wife.
Li Fuxiang declared, “Then I’ll marry in the spring.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “It’s not up to you.”
Li Fuxiang retorted, “No, it must be up to me.”
Gao Yuexing looked at him, smiling without a word.
Li Fuxiang asked again, “Before the wedding, am I not allowed to see you?”
Gao Yuexing said, “The capital is so small. I won’t be cooped up at home all the time. If fate allows, we’ll surely meet.”
Li Fuxiang had never wavered in his determination to marry her. That very day, after the Emperor returned to the palace, Li Fuxiang approached him to discuss the matter.
Leaning back in his dragon throne, the Emperor looked at him with an amused expression. “You’re more eager to take a wife than to become Emperor.”
Li Fuxiang, flipping through the almanac, paid no attention to his words. Suddenly, he raised his brush and said, “Ah Xing’s birthday is an auspicious day for marriage. Let’s set it for that day.”
The Emperor decisively refused. “No.”
Li Fuxiang asked, “Why not?”
The Emperor replied, “You’re still young, and… so is she. Engaging in marital relations too early is harmful to the body.”
Under Xu Xiude’s guidance, Li Fuxiang had progressed rapidly and now understood what “marital relations” entailed. He said, “Then we won’t have marital relations. I just want to marry her!”
The Emperor asked, “You’ll marry her and refrain from marital relations?”
Li Fuxiang nodded firmly. “You said it’s harmful, so I won’t.”
The Emperor thought to himself that youth truly had its innocence.
For boys his age, once they had a taste of such pleasures, they’d never forget that intoxicating, soul-stealing sensation. Fortunately, Li Fuxiang had kept himself clean, far from the debauchery of the outside world. As long as he hadn’t indulged, he wouldn’t fall into temptation.
Relenting slightly, the Emperor said, “Fine, I’ll consider it.”
He gestured for Li Fuxiang to come closer, placing the nine-pearl coronet on his head to test the fit. “You’re not yet of age, but our dynasty doesn’t fuss over such formalities. When you go out, don’t worry about what others say. What I give you is yours.”
Li Fuxiang had never cared about others’ opinions.
The Emperor’s advice was merely a token remark for Li Fuxiang. The real person in need of persuasion was Prince Xin, who had nearly driven himself mad in his own palace these past days.
—
“Father Emperor is giving Fifth Brother a nine-pearl coronet as a birthday gift. The coronet hasn’t even been delivered, yet word has already spread to me. Even when I’m just walking casually on the streets, people can’t help but bring it up. Don’t they have anything better to do?”
The one listening to Prince Xin’s grumblings was a palace maid who shared his bed. Years ago, she had been sent by the Department of Ceremonial Attendants to initiate him. Unlike those who turned their backs once their task was done, Prince Xin kept her by his side. He planned to give her a proper title and keep her in his household after marrying his official wife.
For now, she was the only woman by his side who truly understood him.
The palace maid, Jiang Qi, was no longer young, a year older than Prince Xin.
Softly, Jiang Qi consoled him, “Your Highness, don’t be upset. It’s precisely because this matter is so absurd and unprecedented that those people want to test your reaction.”
Prince Xin replied, “Everything depends on the Emperor’s will. What’s the use of testing me?”
Ever since Li Fuxiang returned to the capital, every event surrounding him, whether good or bad, had people gleefully watching Prince Xin’s residence for his reaction.
If Li Fuxiang suffered misfortune, Prince Xin stood to gain the most.
If Li Fuxiang gained favor, it threatened Prince Xin’s position.
Every day Prince Xin spent in the capital felt like sitting on pins and needles.
Jiang Qi could only offer comforting words. “Your Highness, you don’t need to pay attention to those people. No matter how many openly or secretly wait for a spectacle, as long as your heart is steadfast, villains will have no chance to get close.”
Prince Xin felt a sense of relief and smiled at her. “You’re right.”
Jiang Qi gazed at the young prince, elegant and radiant like a jade tree. Unconsciously, her hand rested on her lower abdomen as she thought, Prince Xin’s wedding is on the seventh day of the twelfth lunar month. I hope this can be kept hidden.
—
On his birthday, Li Fuxiang tied his hair and donned the coronet but quickly found its weight unbearable and removed it.
The Emperor, watching him with a chuckle, said, “If you find it too heavy, then put it away. It’s yours, after all.”
After finishing his noodles, Li Fuxiang received his birthday gifts, which had been brought into Qianqing Palace.
Items gifted to the Prince Xiang were handled with utmost caution. Those delivering the gifts dared not slack, and those receiving them were equally diligent. Every item was meticulously inspected by Xu Xiude and his team to ensure there were no issues before being presented.
—
The Lantern Festival of the twelfth lunar month was originally organized for the Third Prince. However, after certain incidents in the palace, it was quietly reassigned to the Fifth Prince.
Initially, the citizens were puzzled, but as years passed, they grew accustomed to it. Today, people only knew of the Fifth Prince and had long forgotten the Third Prince. Only a handful of elderly folk vaguely remembered this muddled account but couldn’t explain why. When asked, they simply said it might have been a misremembered detail or an error in the records.
That night, Li Fuxiang and Gao Yuexing, in disguise, sneaked out of the palace under the cover of darkness. Joining them was Princess Li Lanyao. The grand annual event, drawing countless people, left the streets nearly empty.
However, the Princess seemed different from usual. She refused to accompany Li Fuxiang and Gao Yuexing, instead taking two guards to explore on her own. She told them they could meet up when returning to the palace, each enjoying the night separately without disturbing the other.
The Emperor, reluctant to leave the palace these days to avoid unnecessary trouble, used to remind Li Fuxiang to be careful when he went out. Now, however, his repeated instructions had become, “Don’t cause trouble.”
It was evident that Li Fuxiang had grown quite adept at navigating life in the capital.
Li Fuxiang parked their carriage near Huayang Street and, holding Gao Yuexing’s hand, jogged into the bustling crowd.
Amid the lively chaos, Gao Yuexing muttered, “Hey, slow down.”
She thought her voice would be lost in the clamor, but Li Fuxiang heard her. He stopped immediately, tightened his grip on her hand, and said, “I’ll slow down. Stay close to me and don’t let go. I’m afraid I won’t be able to find you if I turn around.”
Her heart remained calm, but her body seemed to act on its own as she firmly held his hand in return.
Satisfied, Li Fuxiang asked, “Do you want to see the lanterns? Let me take you to see them.”
Gao Yuexing waved her hand dismissively. “Aren’t there lanterns everywhere?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean something else.”
The Lantern Festival in the twelfth lunar month wasn’t just a place for entertainment; for the common folk, it was also a chance to earn a living.
With such opportunities for small trades, no effort was spared. Every year, someone would come up with innovative ideas and unique novelties. Merchants from all over also seized this occasion to make money.
Li Fuxiang explained, “I heard half a month ago that merchants from the west brought 3,000 glass lanterns specifically for this festival. I found out where they’ll be, so I’m taking you there.”
Gao Yuexing was incredulous. “Three thousand glass lanterns? That must take up an entire street!”
Li Fuxiang, eager for the spectacle, said, “We’ll know once we get there.”
Foreign merchants were masters of their trade, almost as if they were born with the talent to turn money into more money. A little inquiry in the city was enough for Li Fuxiang to learn where something unusual was happening.
“Glass lanterns—surely you’ve heard of them? Don’t worry, we’re early. It won’t start for another half an hour. They’ll be displayed on the rooftop of Zhaixing Tower. They say the lanterns will float high in the sky like stars. When the time comes, stand below and wait for them to toss down the prizes. Whoever catches one will get a glass lantern for free.”
Glass lanterns were undoubtedly more exquisite than paper ones.
And far more expensive.
Only aristocrats and nobility could afford to decorate their homes with such items. For the common people, the prospect of winning one was highly enticing.
Finally, Gao Yuexing showed a hint of interest.
They followed the crowd toward Zhaixing Tower.
As its name suggested, Zhaixing Tower (Star-Plucking Tower) was the tallest building in the capital, said to be so high that one could pluck stars from the sky. Built by the late Emperor on a whim to showcase the grandeur of the Great Xu dynasty, it had since been repurposed as a place for leisure and scenic views.
Since they were early, there was no rush. They strolled leisurely, stopping here and there.
The streets were lined with stalls selling snacks and treats.
Li Fuxiang lingered at almost every stall, unable to move on.
He still had a sweet tooth.
Gao Yuexing noticed another preference of his: he seemed to dislike anything with a milky flavor. Sweets like cheese and butter pastries were always avoided if other choices were available.
Unable to hold back her curiosity, Gao Yuexing asked, “Don’t you like milk?”
At the mention of milk, Li Fuxiang scrunched up his nose, a clear sign of distaste.
As a child, he had never been breastfed.
Both cow and goat milk were luxuries.
Back then, the mute woman who raised him had spent nearly all her savings to buy water-diluted goat milk, mixing it with her own rice soup to keep him alive.
Perhaps due to his early maturity, Li Fuxiang, even as a young child with little memory of events, had retained the impression of that unpleasant taste.
It was a flavor he had endured only out of desperation to survive.
He wasn’t picky with food, but he would never willingly approach anything he disliked.
Gao Yuexing quietly took note of this.
She thought that after they were married, she would need to know his likes and dislikes well. Anything he didn’t like, she would make sure to keep far away from him.
—
The area beneath Zhaixing Tower was already bustling with activity.
The common people, with nothing better to do, were the most eager to join in the excitement. Though they had arrived early, they could no longer squeeze into the front rows.
They decided to stand at the back of the crowd. In the night, illuminated like daytime by countless lanterns, Gao Yuexing could vaguely make out several figures busily moving around atop the tower.
It would likely begin in another quarter of an hour.
Gao Yuexing tilted her head back and waited silently.
A few lanterns began to light up, one after another.
At first, it was hard to discern their shapes. But as more and more lanterns lit up, half the sky began to glow with a reddish hue. That’s when Gao Yuexing noticed something extraordinary.
“Butterflies—are those butterflies?” she asked.
Within the exquisite glass lanterns, upon closer inspection, the glowing light resembled butterflies flapping their wings.
It was truly magical.
Gao Yuexing patted Li Fuxiang on the shoulder. “So beautiful.”
Li Fuxiang leaned close to her ear and whispered, “If you like them, we’ll take them all back and put them in our residence.”
Another quarter of an hour passed.
The crowd behind them grew denser.
Finally, all the lanterns lit up. With the help of a massive flying kite, they began to ascend into the night sky.
It looked like tens of thousands of radiant butterflies in flight.
Three thousand lanterns.
As they slowly rose into the sky, they were even more dazzling than fireworks.
Soon after, the prizes were scattered down.
The prizes were colorful papers cut into butterfly shapes.
Both Gao Yuexing and Li Fuxiang reached out their hands, waiting to catch one.
Gao Yuexing tilted her head upward, her eyes fixed on the sky, then gradually shifted her gaze to their hands.
Her fingertips barely reached Li Fuxiang’s elbow.
Suddenly, she no longer wanted to catch the prize for the lanterns.
Her hand changed direction, gripping tightly onto her own prize instead.
In their own little world, the crowd seemed to fade away, and the lanterns gradually vanished.
The bright moon hung high, snow swirled in the wind, and two hearts found joy in one another.