The news of the emperor’s decision regarding the Xiaonan Pavilion silently spread throughout the entire court and harem the next day, like willow catkins carried by the wind.
Those who were supposed to know already knew.
Even those who weren’t supposed to know had caught wind of it.
Gao Yuexing got up early to accompany Li Fuqiu to the Wenhua Hall for their studies.
She hadn’t closed her eyes all night, and when morning came, sleepiness overwhelmed her completely. Half-awake, she dozed off amidst Grand Tutor Liu’s lecture.
The princess glanced at her several times, wanting to find an opportunity to catch up with her, but each time Gao Yuexing missed it by falling asleep.
The Third Prince was unusually well-behaved today. Though he didn’t pay attention to the lessons, he at least remained quiet.
The Fifth Prince also seemed listless and lacked his usual energy.
Drowsily, Gao Yuexing thought, “What’s going on today?”
After class, Gao Yuexing stuffed her books into Fu Yun’s arms. When she turned around, she saw the Third Prince leaving without looking back, taking his people with him without waiting for her.
Sensing the moment, the princess immediately pulled her aside and asked with concern, “Are you okay? I heard you fell ill again.”
Since entering the palace, Gao Yuexing had been plagued by one illness after another. She didn’t think much of it herself, but the princess noticed that she had visibly grown thinner, her cheeks deeply sunken.
The princess quickly followed up, “Did my third brother bully you?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”
The princess said, “Don’t force yourself. If there’s any trouble, be sure to tell me. I’ll help you figure something out.”
Gao Yuexing, grateful for the sentiment, nodded bitterly and thanked her.
But no one could help her with her troubles.
Only she could solve them.
Gao Yuexing left the Wenhua Hall with Fu Yun, walking part of the way with the princess. When they reached the pomegranate tree near Chunhe Palace, the princess seemed reluctant to return and instead followed Gao Yuexing toward Jingmen Palace.
Gao Yuexing frowned, sensing something unusual. She asked, “What’s wrong? Are you in a bad mood?”
The princess replied, “Father is in my mother’s palace.”
Gao Yuexing was even more puzzled. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
The princess explained, “Father has been in a bad mood lately and has come to Chunhe Palace more often, but Mother told me to stay away. She’s afraid I’ll say something inappropriate and upset him.”
So that was it.
Gao Yuexing chuckled softly. “How could that be? The emperor loves you so much. Maybe if you playfully stir things up a bit, it might even cheer him up.”
The princess pouted and said nothing, her eyes welling up with tears that she stubbornly held back.
The emperor was also human, and humans have emotions.
To the princess, the emperor was her father, and she longed for the bond between father and daughter.
To Consort Xian, the emperor was the heavens, and her heart was filled with the weight of hierarchy and duty.
The emperor’s occasional displays of joy, anger, or frustration naturally held different meanings in the eyes of different people.
In her previous life, Gao Yuexing had never taken the emperor seriously.
After her grand wedding to Li Fuxiang, he frequently traveled to the Western Front, leaving her alone in the capital with little to do. The emperor treated her well, granting her free access to every corner of the palace. As long as she didn’t commit treason, she could do as she pleased.
The emperor enjoyed summoning her for chess games and chatting about topics that others dared not discuss.
Looking back, Gao Yuexing felt that those memories seemed extraordinarily distant.
At that moment, she suddenly realized—it was all from her previous life.
“Hey, why aren’t you saying anything? What are you thinking about?”
The princess noticed her stop abruptly and waved her small hand in front of her face, the golden ornaments on her sleeves jingling.
Gao Yuexing gazed upward at the brightest spot in the sky for a long while. Her vision dimmed slightly, and she rubbed her eyes with a handkerchief. After a moment, she said to the princess, “Why don’t you come back to Jingmen Palace with me? Do you want to visit the martial arts arena this afternoon?”
The princess nodded.
When they returned to Jingmen Palace, they spotted Li Fuqiu squatting in the courtyard from a distance. His back was to them, and he seemed engrossed in something.
The princess glanced at his figure and casually remarked to Gao Yuexing, “My third brother’s birthday is coming soon.”
Gao Yuexing responded absentmindedly, “Oh? When is it?”
The princess replied, “The first day of the twelfth lunar month. Three days from now.”
As Gao Yuexing stepped over the threshold, she almost tripped, suspecting she had misheard. “The first day of which month?”
The princess repeated, “The twelfth.”
Hearing their voices, Li Fuqiu stood up and approached them. As he drew closer, they saw that he was holding a small bird with a red beak and black feathers.
The princess exclaimed with delight, “Where did you get that bird?”
The young girl’s natural compassion for small creatures was evident.
But when Gao Yuexing saw the cuckoo, her first thought was of its sorrowful cries.
Still reeling from the shock of hearing “the first day of the twelfth lunar month,” she felt disoriented.
Li Fuqiu tossed the bird in his hand. “I picked it up.”
The frightened bird chirped loudly in protest.
The princess scolded, “Be careful! You’ll kill it.”
Li Fuqiu shrugged indifferently. “Then let it die.”
The princess protested, “How can you say that?”
Li Fuqiu countered, “Do you pity it? Do you know how cruel this bird is?”
The princess scoffed, “It’s just a bird. How bad could it be?”
A thought struck Gao Yuexing, and she understood the meaning behind Li Fuqiu’s words. Standing a few steps away, she explained, “Cuckoos never incubate their own eggs. They lay them in the nests of other birds, leaving the foster parents to hatch and raise their chicks. Once the cuckoo chicks are born, they cruelly kill the biological offspring of their foster parents and enjoy the care and resources that were never meant for them.”
The princess, hearing this story for the first time, was incredulous. “It’s so wicked!”
Li Fuqiu gripped the bird by its neck and said, “A born troublemaker. Do you still pity it?”
Now that the princess knew the bird’s nature, she felt a twinge of disgust when she looked at it again. She turned back to Gao Yuexing, half in admiration, and said, “You know so much!”
Gao Yuexing’s usual manner of speaking and acting often made people forget her age.
Yet her appearance constantly reminded them that she was only a six-year-old child.
This contradiction in her demeanor and age created an unshakable sense of dissonance about her.
Gao Yuexing stared intently at Li Fuqiu.
Li Fuqiu gave a faint, bitter smile, raised an eyebrow slightly, and said to her, “Gao Yuexing, you were born to counter me.”
As Gao Yuexing softly told the cuckoo’s story, an unsettling suspicion began to form in her mind.
The first day of the twelfth lunar month.
In her previous life, she had no memory of the Third Prince. Every year on the first day of the twelfth lunar month, the capital held its grandest lantern festival, celebrating the birthday of the Fifth Prince, Li Fuxiang.
A startling coincidence.
The story of the cuckoo carried profound implications.
Gao Yuexing hadn’t thought about this before because of their difference in age.
In her understanding, Li Fuxiang was a year younger than the Third Prince.
But now, with things already so absurd, what did a year’s difference matter?
—
After lunch.
The princess, accustomed to taking a nap, was sleeping soundly on her couch.
Gao Yuexing sat on the threshold, gesturing for Fu Yun to come closer. She quietly asked, “The child born to Lady Mei—how old is he this year?”
Hearing the mention of the Xiaonan Pavilion, Fu Yun was immediately alarmed, her nerves on edge. “Oh, my ancestor! Didn’t we agree not to bring that up anymore?” She lowered her voice while glancing behind her. The princess was still fast asleep.
Gao Yuexing replied, “I was just asking casually.”
Fu Yun lowered her head, crossed her two index fingers, and made a ten.
Ten years old.
So it was true. If identities could be fabricated, what did age matter?
Two children born on the same day, month, and year—there was no such coincidence in the world. Gao Yuexing’s gaze turned dangerous as she stared at the tightly shut doors of the west side hall. She murmured, “Back then… were Noble Consort Zheng and Lady Mei both delivering at full term?”
Fu Yun didn’t catch her meaning. “What did you say?”
Gao Yuexing didn’t repeat herself.
She understood the principle that baseless suspicions couldn’t be voiced lightly.
Fu Yun tried to dissuade her. “Miss Gao, don’t overthink this. The one locked in the Xiaonan Pavilion—His Majesty has already issued an order for their disposal. From now on, neither Lady Mei nor that child will be mentioned again.”
Gao Yuexing hadn’t heard of this yet. “Disposed of?” Her voice trembled as she grasped the meaning. “How did His Majesty handle it? When did this happen?”
Fu Yun said, “It’s not an official decree, but it was passed down this morning. His Majesty has ordered the Xiaonan Pavilion to be completely sealed off. The palace walls and main gate are to be rebuilt, cutting off all contact and supply of food. The people trapped inside won’t last more than a few days before starving to death.”
It was a death that could be foreseen.
Gao Yuexing abruptly stood up.
Fu Yun grabbed her arm. “What are you going to do?”
Gao Yuexing looked at the blazing sunlight outside. Standing in the shadow under the eaves, she felt chilled to the bone. She clenched her fingers tightly and said, “I feel a bit cold. I’m going back to get a coat.”
Fu Yun suddenly remembered something. “Oh, your fox fur! I made it into a little jacket for you. The weather’s cooling down, so you can wear it. Wait here, I’ll fetch it for you.”
Cheerfully, Fu Yun dashed inside to rummage through the chest.
She wouldn’t find it.
The fox fur had long been secretly taken out and sent to Li Fuxiang in the Xiaonan Pavilion.
After searching for a long time, Fu Yun muttered in confusion, “Hmm… where is it? I distinctly remember putting it in the chest.”
Feigning indifference, Gao Yuexing nudged the princess awake and took her by the hand to leave.
The princess, still groggy, mumbled, “Is it time?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “It’s time.”
The princess followed her for a while. By the time they neared the martial arts arena, she had fully woken up. She pulled her hand away, flicked her handkerchief at Gao Yuexing, and pointed at the sundial on the Zhaixing Pavilion in the distance. “Liar! There’s still half an hour left!”
Without even looking back, Gao Yuexing said, “Oh, maybe I misread it.”
The princess wasn’t foolish and could clearly see her dismissive attitude. She stood with her hands on her hips, fuming.
Under normal circumstances, Gao Yuexing might have patiently placated her, but her mind was in turmoil now, leaving her no energy to deal with anything else.
The martial arts arena was almost empty.
However, Gao Yuexing spotted a small figure in the distance.
It was the Fifth Prince.
He had arrived surprisingly early.
Gao Yuexing glanced at him a few times and noticed that there was a woman standing behind him.
She wore pale, plain white clothing, her appearance simple and serene, not drawing much attention.
She wasn’t a palace maid, nor was she a nanny.
Judging by her attire and demeanor, she was clearly someone of status.
Gao Yuexing tugged on the princess’s sleeve and pointed. “Look over there. Who do you think that is?”
The princess looked over and, forgetting her earlier sulking, said in surprise, “Huh? Isn’t that Lady Xu? Why has she come out today?”
Xu Zhaoyi.
More than ten years later, the official records would describe her as Li Fuxiang’s biological mother.
But if one traced back more than ten years, Gao Yuexing, by chance, had uncovered the truth: her biological son was not Li Fuxiang.
—
TL: What kind of baby switching is this, I’m dizzy LMAO. You have to focus on the details or you might get confused.