The time left for her was running out.
She recalled her ninth birthday. She had celebrated it in the Gao family residence, where a great many people came to wish her well and brought countless gifts. From that day onward, she had barely set foot in the palace and hadn’t seen Li Fuxiang again.
She had spent many carefree, blissful years within the confines of the inner courtyard, naively unaware of the world outside.
But things weren’t over yet. There was still a little stretch of the road left to go.
As she pondered, all her drowsiness vanished.
What exactly had happened before her ninth birthday?
When they returned to Qianqing Palace, there was still some time before the evening meal. Yagu had steamed the plum blossom pastries but refused to let them eat until Li Fuxiang completed his lessons for the day.
Li Fuxiang covered his head with both hands.
Yagu sternly pulled his hands away and gestured, “The fact that you can stand in the sunlight is because so many lives have pushed you forward from behind. You must live like a proper person.”
Li Fuxiang could listen to Yagu’s advice. He was obedient, though he greatly disliked the convoluted and obscure texts. However, relying on his sharp mind, he managed to scrape by.
Only then did Yagu bring out the steamed pastries.
The two children ate with great delight. Li Fuxiang was halfway through his third pastry when the golden curtain in the warm chamber lifted. Out walked a graceful woman. Her attire differed slightly from the palace norm—no court robes, no red and green embellishments—just a simple cotton dress.
She stood silently before Li Fuxiang, staring at him without saying a word.
Li Fuxiang obediently put down the fourth pastry he had been about to eat.
Two years ago, the Zheng family invited the Master of Medicine Valley to examine Li Fuxiang. Before leaving, the master left his apprentice, Yaonu, in the palace.
Yaonu kept a close eye on Li Fuxiang, overseeing every aspect of his daily life. This constant supervision left Li Fuxiang feeling overwhelmed, but Gao Yuexing found it convenient, as it gave her a chance to consult Yaonu on medical techniques whenever she wanted.
Sister Yaonu was never stingy in her teaching. Seeing Gao Yuexing’s eagerness to learn, she treated her as if she were one of her disciples in the valley, teaching her with utmost care and dedication.
One evening, after Li Fuxiang had undergone acupuncture and taken his medicine, he saw Gao Yuexing engrossed in a thick medical text by lamplight. He placed a pearl on her book. The pearl rolled smoothly down the page, but Gao Yuexing ignored it.
Then came a second pearl, and a third…
In no time, Gao Yuexing had a handful of pearls of uniform size, which she collected into a dish. Looking up, she asked, “You want me to play with you, don’t you?”
Li Fuxiang nodded, that was exactly his intention.
Seeing that Gao Yuexing was willing to humor him, he divided the pearls into two piles, handing her one and laying the other on a small table. He moved her makeup box over to block one side of the table.
Gao Yuexing sighed and covered her forehead. “Tieshu Cliff?”
This had become his routine. Every time he listened to Zheng Qianye recount a battlefield story, he would carefully replay and analyze it afterward. If something didn’t make sense, he could spend an entire sleepless night pondering it.
This was their little secret.
His method of analysis… well, calling it crude seemed absurd, given that he was using freshwater pearls from Liaodong’s tributes, each worth a fortune. But calling it sophisticated also felt wrong, as Li Fuxiang, even at his age, had never seen a proper sand table.
Gao Yuexing couldn’t stand it any longer. As the saying goes, “To do a good job, one must first sharpen their tools.”
She needed to make proper plans for her young prince.
Seeing that no one else was around, she whispered to him, “Do you know what a sand table is?”
Li Fuxiang looked at her, confused.
Gao Yuexing explained, “A sand table is a model of a battlefield. It shows every mountain range, desert, grassland, river, and even the weather and wind direction. It can perfectly recreate the conditions of a battle.”
Li Fuxiang stared at her blankly.
Gao Yuexing added, “Let’s go visit the Zheng family. They have an entire sand table—it’s bigger than your bed!”
Later that evening, the emperor spent a short while in Noble Consort Xian’s residence but didn’t stay overnight. When he returned to Qianqing Palace, Li Fuxiang rushed toward him.
The emperor caught him in his arms and held him steady.
Li Fuxiang had grown a few inches taller, his body was more slender, and his bones felt stronger. Refusing to walk properly, he clung to the emperor like a little burden, making the emperor shuffle step by step across the threshold.
Li Fuxiang said, “Father Emperor.”
The emperor immediately sensed trouble. Li Fuxiang rarely showed such intimacy unless he wanted something. “If it’s important, you call me Father Emperor. If it’s not, you call me Your Majesty. Go on, what do you want this time?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “I want to visit Grandfather’s house.”
The emperor asked, “Why the sudden idea? Who suggested this to you?”
Li Fuxiang said, “I want to see Grandfather’s little horse.”
Zheng Qianye’s strong and young Ferghana horse had recently foaled, and the emperor vaguely remembered promising to gift the foal to Li Fuxiang. It seemed Li Fuxiang had been keeping this in mind.
The emperor agreed, “Fine, you can go.”
Whenever Li Fuxiang acted spoiled, the emperor couldn’t refuse. He feared that if Li Fuxiang ever realized his coaxing didn’t work, he might stop trying to be affectionate altogether.
The next morning, after finishing their early lessons, Ding Wenfu hitched the carriage, loaded the two children, and drove them to the Zheng residence, presenting a calling card at the door.
While an unannounced visit might have been slightly impolite, the Zheng family had always treated Li Fuxiang as one of their own. They welcomed him with great joy.
As soon as Li Fuxiang jumped out of the carriage, he saw two beautiful women outside. One had a round, delicate face and an air of gentle kindness; her smile was warm and soft. The other was more energetic, with her hair tied high and dressed neatly in a practical outfit.
These were Li Fuxiang’s two aunts.
Zheng Yan and Zheng Yi, each holding a roasted sweet potato, ran out to greet their guests. The enticing aroma wafted directly into the noses of Li Fuxiang and Gao Yuexing.
Zheng Yan ran straight to Gao Yuexing. “Sister Gao, you’re here!”
The lively aunt in the practical outfit gave him a kick from behind and yanked him back by the ear. “You brat!” she scolded.
Zheng Yan wailed, “Mother, it hurts! Ow, ow, ow!”
From this, Gao Yuexing deduced that the spirited woman before her was Lady Zheng, the wife of Zheng Yunji and the eldest lady of the Zheng family. Naturally, the other gentle and plump lady was the second lady of the Zheng family.
Gao Yuexing, having sorted out everyone’s identities, respectfully said, “Greetings to Lady Zheng and Second Lady Zheng!”
Li Fuxiang glanced at Gao Yuexing and mimicked her. “Greetings to Lady Zheng and Second Lady Zheng.”
Lady Zheng’s delighted gaze swept over the two children before turning sharply to her son. “Forget it, you rascal. Just give up already.”
Zheng Yan immediately wilted, his ears drooping.
Gao Yuexing, focused on helping Li Fuxiang see Zheng Qianye’s sand table, didn’t need to say much. Finding an excuse, they wandered into General Zheng’s study, where it was prominently displayed.
It wasn’t just the size of a bed, as Gao Yuexing had estimated—it was much larger.
At a glance, it was as big as four canopy beds combined.
The sand table displayed the entirety of the Western Frontier battlefield. When one reached out to touch the mountains, rivers, and valleys, it even felt as though the wind moved through the sand, flowing and tangling at one’s fingertips.
Gao Yuexing was full of admiration.
Li Fuxiang was utterly amazed.
Seeing his interest in the sand table, Zheng Qianye naturally stood beside it and demonstrated a simulated desert battle.
Li Fuxiang fell in love with the sand table instantly. He wished he could glue himself to Zheng Qianye’s study and never leave. However, the emperor would never allow him to stay overnight outside the palace. Li Fuxiang left reluctantly, turning back every few steps.
Gao Yuexing carried a bundle larger than herself—filled with small gifts from the two aunts. With the help of the Zheng brothers, they managed to hoist the bundle into the carriage. Straightening her hair ornament, Gao Yuexing waved goodbye to the Zheng family.
Inside the carriage, Gao Yuexing said to Li Fuxiang, “When we get back, I’ll make you a small sand table. If other young gentlemen have one, my young lord must have one too.”
Li Fuxiang was delighted. “How do we make it?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “I’ll teach you.”
Li Fuxiang added, “Secretly.”
Gao Yuexing agreed, “Alright, we’ll do it secretly.”
The carriage sped through the night, returning to the palace. The emperor, who had been worried all day, personally waited at the gates of Qianqing Palace to greet them. Li Fuxiang, though less affectionate than he had been the previous day, still gave the emperor a bright smile, satisfied that his wish had been granted.
Gao Yuexing had some theoretical knowledge about making sand tables, but she had never actually tried making one herself. That evening, she drafted a design plan. Considering the need for secrecy, she decided to make a very miniature sand table, which would require extraordinary precision and attention to detail.
The next day, Gao Yuexing sweet-talked Zheng Yan into procuring some clay for her while she started thinking about where to collect sand.
The area behind the Xiaonan Pavilion had recently been converted into a crabapple embankment. It was a scenic spot by a river, surrounded by hills. The riverbank offered clean sand and small pebbles, making it a perfect source. Gao Yuexing decided to check it out on her own.
Over the past two years, Gao Yuexing had become quite familiar with the palace grounds, especially the area near the Xiaonan Pavilion. At midday, when the gentle breeze made the environment especially tranquil, she brought her little pouch and headed to the riverside. The reeds there grew as tall as an adult’s waist, and Gao Yuexing, being so small, could squat down and remain hidden from sight.
She reached into the river with her tiny hands to scoop up sand. The early spring water was still frigid, and after a while, the cold began to seep into her bones like needles. She rubbed her hands together and blew on them for warmth.
While crouching alone among the reeds, she suddenly heard intermittent voices approaching, accompanied by scattered conversation.
Women.
The voices were unfamiliar—not those of nobles, likely palace maids on duty.
“Things seem to be going awry,” one of them said. “There’s been no news from Xu Prefecture for a long time. I heard that the death of Prince Wen’s heir was actually an assassination secretly ordered by the emperor… Our mistress can’t eat or sleep well. Do you think the emperor knows something?”
“Impossible.” The older-sounding voice belonged to what seemed to be a senior palace woman. “If the emperor really had evidence, he wouldn’t resort to secret assassinations. Go back and tell your mistress: at critical moments, it’s crucial to stay calm and not lose composure.”
“Yes.”
Gao Yuexing froze in place, holding her breath and silently contemplating what she had just overheard.
What did they mean?
Xu Prefecture? Prince Wen’s heir?
From what she gathered, they were plotting against the emperor. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t something that could be made public.
“Our last attempt to assassinate the Crown Prince failed,” another voice said, “and we ended up injuring the Fifth Prince instead. The palace already has so few children, and the emperor refuses to have more. Now there’s only that one idiot left… He’s hardly capable of ascending to the throne.”
A chuckle followed. “A puppet is better. Whether he ascends or not doesn’t matter. If he’s an idiot, all the better. Once our mistress holds the reins of power and rules from behind the curtain…”
A stranded fish near Gao Yuexing suddenly released a bubble, then slapped its tail hard against the shallow water.
The sound made Gao Yuexing’s heart leap. Alarm bells went off in her mind.
—“Who’s there?!”