Gao Yuexing climbed up to the eaves of the side hall of Chunhe Palace.
A palace servant hurried over to dissuade her, saying, “Miss Gao, that’s dangerous, come down quickly.”
Gao Yuexing paid no attention. She gazed intently in the direction of the Xiaonan Pavilion.
That was her husband, the one who had stirred her joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness for five years.
The commotion alarmed more than half of the attendants at Chunhe Palace’s side quarters. If it continued, it would be hard to bring under control. Gao Yuexing finally regained her composure in the cold wind, climbing down on her own. Rubbing her icy hands, she forced a smile. “I just saw a cat, pure white, so beautiful.”
The palace servant smiled along with her. “That’s Lady Xu’s Little Mianhua.”
Gao Yuexing asked cautiously, “Which Lady Xu?”
The palace servant replied, “Who else could it be? Of course, it’s Xu Zhaoyi from Tonghe Courtyard.”
The birth mother of the Fifth Prince.
None of these people were easy to deal with, no matter who you picked out.
Gao Yuexing looked down at her tender, youthful hands, overcome with a deep sense of powerlessness. She was only six years old. At such a young age, in this treacherous palace full of intrigue, trying to accomplish anything was as hard as climbing to the heavens.
Even though she now knew where Li Fuxiang was, meeting him wouldn’t be easy.
After lunch, when the princess returned, her expression wasn’t pleasant.
Before Gao Yuexing could ask, the princess dismissed the attendants and said, “Father has released Third Brother.”
Back then, because of Gao Yuexing’s injury, His Majesty had ordered him to reflect in confinement for three days.
Gao Yuexing touched the small scab on her ear and responded lightly with an “Oh.”
The princess glanced at her.
—“I’m used to it anyway, as long as you don’t feel wronged.”
The princess muttered that she was used to it, but her eyes reddened for a moment before she forcefully suppressed it. “Look over there!”
Gao Yuexing followed her gaze.
A row of eunuchs stood respectfully outside the doorway, each holding a lacquered ebony tray piled with luxurious, dazzling fine silk, hairpins, and palace flowers.
The princess said to Gao Yuexing, “These are rewards from Father. Go quickly and express your thanks.”
The Emperor was still in Chunhe Palace, deliberately waiting for her gratitude.
Ultimately, this meeting was unavoidable.
Aunt Wei led her, repeatedly cautioning her with concern. “His Majesty has always been lenient. There’s no need for you to feel nervous, Miss. Once you enter the hall, just kneel as usual. Now that you’re a member of Chunhe Palace, you represent Noble Consort Xian’s face. You must not lose decorum before the Emperor.”
Gao Yuexing kept her head down, watching the road under her feet, ignoring her.
Every word and action of Aunt Wei reeked of sharpness and bias against her, making her feel extremely uncomfortable.
In truth, many of these senior palace attendants treated others this way. She simply hadn’t experienced it before.
Aunt Wei muttered under her breath about Gao Yuexing being ungrateful as they reached the entrance to the main hall.
Gao Yuexing still remembered her previous life. Back then, she had once played chess with the Emperor in the study and galloped horses with him on the hunting grounds.
The Emperor, in the prime of his life, exuded the grandeur of a ruler. But Gao Yuexing couldn’t understand why he treated his own son so harshly.
As she stepped onto the stairs in front of Chunhe Palace, Gao Yuexing recalled the day she was conferred the title of Crown Princess.
Officials and military officers of the court had stood below the steps. Dressed in formal attire, she had walked a long, solitary path before arriving in front of the Emperor and his son.
She entered the hall, knelt, and kowtowed.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the bright yellow hem of his robe.
Then, she heard the Emperor chuckle softly, “Still too young…”
The Emperor beckoned her forward to examine the wound on her earlobe. He asked Noble Consort Xian beside him, “Has the imperial physician seen this? Will it leave a scar in the future?”
Noble Consort Xian replied, “The physician said that since she’s just a child, her healing ability is stronger, and the wound isn’t deep. As long as she uses the prescribed medicine on time, it should heal very well.” After a brief pause, she sighed delicately, “For a young girl to be injured on her face, it’s truly unfortunate. Fortunately, she’s still too young to understand. If she were a few years older and more aware of propriety, who knows how much she would cry!”
The Emperor, naturally, understood Noble Consort Xian’s underlying message.
Injuring a young girl’s face wasn’t something a few casual rewards could easily make up for.
The Emperor gently patted Gao Yuexing’s hair and coaxed her kindly, “Grow up well and behave. When you come of age, I’ll choose a good husband for you, alright?”
Not long after, an imperial decree indeed betrothed her to Li Fuxiang—a truly unparalleled match.
At the time, Gao Yuexing sweetly replied, “Your subject’s daughter thanks His Majesty for his grace!”
Once Li Fuqiu was released, the palace was once again thrown into disarray.
The princess, feeling stifled, no longer cared for the excitement of the martial arts arena. She stayed in her room, embroidering, with Gao Yuexing accompanying her.
A peony was stitched, then unraveled, and stitched again. The princess frowned. “My third brother was punished because of you. He won’t reflect on his actions at all and will definitely come up with ways to trouble you again.”
Gao Yuexing bit off a piece of embroidery thread. “I’ll be more careful.”
The princess said, “Don’t take it lightly. When he acts recklessly, it’s a real headache. And Father always has his back. There’s no one under the heavens he doesn’t dare to offend.”
Gao Yuexing still found it strange. A prince, highly regarded by the Emperor, educated by an erudite scholar, and disciplined by a renowned general, could still grow crooked. Could it really be that bad habits were impossible to tame?
She had no time to dwell on others’ troubles. Outside the window, the beaded curtain swayed gently. It was the most tranquil part of the afternoon. The princess, finally drowsy, let out a small yawn. Aunt Wei napped in the corridor, while the palace servants quietly scattered around the room.
The palace’s guard was at its loosest not in the deep night or early morning, but about half an hour after lunch.
Gao Yuexing set down her embroidery frame and said, “When I left Wenhui Hall this morning, I noticed the crabapple flowers were nearly withered.”
The princess, her eyes closing with fatigue, murmured, “Really? I didn’t notice. Winter is nearly here; it’s not the season for blooming.”
Gao Yuexing said, “There’s a crabapple tree planted in the courtyard of my family home as well.”
The princess asked, “Do you miss home?”
Gao Yuexing replied softly, “I want to send a letter home, but I can’t write well. Maybe I’ll send a branch of crabapple flowers instead.”
The princess finally succumbed to sleep on her soft pillow, lightly waving her handkerchief, “You may go.”
Gao Yuexing glanced around. Aunt Wei paid no attention, and the little palace maids were lazily pretending to nap—exactly what Gao Yuexing had hoped for. Without anyone following her, she quietly shut the door behind her and slipped out.
Gao Yuexing cautiously circled the long street twice before suppressing her anxious heart and heading toward the Xiaonan Pavilion.
The small hole in the brick wall was still there, but it had been blocked with rubble and weeds. Avoiding the patrolling guards, Gao Yuexing picked up a sturdy tree branch and crudely poked the hole open.
There was no movement inside the Xiaonan Pavilion.
Gao Yuexing leaned closer to peer in. The courtyard was large, but it had clearly been left untended for a long time, with dried branches and fallen leaves littering the ground. The main hall’s doors were tightly shut, and the paper windows were tattered and covered in thick dust—worse than even a cold palace. Facing the hole in the northwest corner was a well with two wooden basins on top, the only sign of life in the desolate place.
Gao Yuexing untied a small golden bell from her person and tossed it inside with all her strength. The bell rolled into the center of the courtyard with a series of crisp jingles.
Holding her breath, Gao Yuexing waited.
After a creak, the sound of a door opening came from somewhere beyond her line of sight, seemingly from the eastern side hall.
Before long, a small figure appeared under the sunlight, slowly approaching and stopping near the wall.
He stayed hidden, refusing to show his face.
Gao Yuexing, infinitely patient, shifted her posture, thumping her numbed legs. Kneeling fully on the ground like a curled-up ball, she softly asked, “Are you there?”
The shadow lay still on the ground, completely motionless.
It was like a quiet standoff.
Gao Yuexing said, “Did I hurt you earlier? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Li Fuxiang still refused to show himself or make a sound.
After a moment of silence, Gao Yuexing began fiddling with the brick wall. Some of the bricks near the bottom were loose, and an adult’s strength could probably pry them open with ease. But for Gao Yuexing, her efforts were futile. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t budge a single brick, and in the process, she ended up cutting her finger.
Seeing the blood and feeling the pain, she let out a small yelp and instinctively put her injured finger into her mouth.
On the other side of the wall, Li Fuxiang was finally moved by her cry. A small, furry head cautiously peeked out, followed by a pair of eyes.
Gao Yuexing’s heart melted completely. She reached out to touch his face. “Why are you…”
Her voice caught in her throat.
In that moment, even the wind seemed still. Gao Yuexing’s weary soul, having traversed the boundary of time, finally touched the person she had longed for.
She couldn’t say anything.
Feeling the warmth of his face against her palm, her half-dead heart gradually came back to life.
She thought of countless things, but didn’t know what to say.
The young Li Fuxiang was nothing like she had imagined.
She had seen him gallop on horseback, trampling flowers with an unparalleled charm. Now, she was witnessing him emaciated and imprisoned in a desolate, decaying courtyard, living humbly and inconspicuously just to survive.
This stark contrast tore her heart apart, stirring an unbearable ache deep within.
– This time, no matter what, I will stay by your side.
Gao Yuexing only had half an hour; she couldn’t slip away for too long. If she delayed any further, she feared she wouldn’t be able to evade the eyes lurking in the shadows. The patrolling guards would likely be arriving soon as well.
A thread of rationality always lingered in Gao Yuexing’s mind. She took out the crabapple-patterned handkerchief hidden inside her close-fitting undergarments, gently took Li Fuxiang’s hand, and tied the handkerchief around his wrist.
It was hard to imagine that a boy three years older than her could have arms thinner and frailer than her own. He was so weak that it seemed he might break with a single touch.
Steeling herself, Gao Yuexing carefully sealed the hole in the wall again. Then, she got to her feet, dusted off the dirt from her clothes, and hurried away, lifting the hem of her skirt as she ran.
Behind her, unseen, the rubble in the wall’s hole shifted slightly before collapsing with a faint puff. Through the small gap, the boy’s eyes caught one last glimpse of her fluttering, layered skirt as it trailed away, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely, leaving nothing to be seen.
Gao Yuexing plucked a few withered crabapple branches. In truth, having even these was already fortunate. Their blooming season was so fleeting—they blossomed at the most unremarkable moments and, before anyone could admire them, hastened to wither away.
Gao Yuexing planned to dry these few flowers and send them back home to her eldest sister.