Ch 9: When the Wild Goose Returns

Bu Er pouted and shook his head.
People—what the most scary thing for someone is thinking themselves clever.
If you don’t have a sharp mind, why play petty tricks in front of Prince Zhan?

Duan Wucuo looked at him and asked,
“You understood what just happened?”

Bu Er froze for a second, then hurriedly shook his head.

He scratched his bald head and grinned.
“I don’t really know the whole story, that’s true.
But I can more or less tell that little Su princess has ulterior motives.
As for exactly what she’s plotting—I don’t understand, but that’s not important.
What matters is, Your Highness definitely does!”

Duan Wucuo handed him the prayer beads and said,
“The abbot says counting these can calm the mind and bring clarity.
Try counting a thousand times.”

Even after Duan Wucuo walked off, Bu Er still didn’t understand why he was asked to count the beads.
But it didn’t matter—there were few in this world who could truly read Duan Wucuo’s mind anyway.

In Hua Feng Palace

Empress Su reclined on a beauty couch. One maid massaged her legs, while another arranged her hair.

“It would’ve been so much easier to hold the coming-of-age ceremony at the manor.
And now, suddenly they’ve moved it to Yuexi Palace.
As the elder sister, even if I’d rather stay put, I have no choice but to show up.”

She grumbled.

It wasn’t that she disliked her two younger cousins.
She had lost her father early and was raised under Prince Xingyuan’s care.
Though she and Su Ruqing and Su Ruche were technically cousins, their bond was no different from real sisters.

But now that she was pregnant, she had become increasingly sluggish and disinclined to go out.

“Heaven must know Your Majesty’s going out today—clear skies and warm sunshine.
I even saw fresh willow shoots budding this morning.
With such fine weather, perhaps this outing will lift your spirits.”

Zhenzhu offered cheerfully.

Lift her spirits?

The coming-of-age ceremony would bring together all the young noblewomen of the capital.
Who knew which of them might someday enter the harem?

Now heavily pregnant, with recent faint spots appearing on her face, the Empress had no desire to be surrounded by youthful charm—it would only worsen her mood.

Just then, the child in her belly kicked. The irritation in her chest dissipated somewhat, and she allowed herself a faint smile.

So what if more women entered the palace?

She was the Empress of Yi. Once her son was born, her position would be even more secure—unchallenged and absolute.

“Go summon Nanny Jiang.”

Linglong curtseyed and quietly hurried off to call her.

When Nanny Jiang entered the inner hall, she glanced at the Empress’s face.

She walked over, took over from Zhenzhu in arranging the Empress’s hair, and asked,
“Is Your Majesty troubled because of Princess Huachao?”

“I heard from Xiao Chenzi that when His Majesty met with Prince Zhan, he explained the matter from beginning to end—and even pleaded with him in a tone of negotiation.

Prince Zhan didn’t give a clear response, but it’s almost certain he’ll agree.

Everyone says Prince Zhan is unmoved by either force or favor—but His Majesty is the one exception.

People claim Prince Zhan may rebel and seize the throne one day—but I firmly believe he won’t.

They say there’s no family bond within royalty, but these two brothers—they truly have it.”

Nanny Jiang fixed a gold phoenix hairpin into the Empress’s coiffure and asked,
“Then why is Your Majesty worried?”

Why worried?

The Empress narrowed her eyes, gently stroking the child in her belly.

Today, it’s Princess Huachao. Tomorrow, it may be another princess—or a beauty.

How long would this endless scheming to drive attractive women away from His Majesty go on?

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I feel uneasy.”

“You’re almost full term. It’s common to lose sleep when the belly gets large.”

Nanny Jiang said gently.

The Empress fell silent.

She felt a growing sense of dread—and the larger the child in her womb grew, the stronger that unease became.

She had done some things in the past she wasn’t proud of. Back then, they hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But now, she feared those sins might fall upon her child.

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and pushed the thoughts away.

Rising, she allowed her maids to help her dress and set off for Yuexi Palace.

Qing Yan, following Su Ruqing’s lead, quietly avoided the public eye and slipped through the winding paths behind Yuexi Palace.

She didn’t take the same route as the favored consort of the late emperor once had toward Chang’an Hall, but chose another path, waiting at Ouhe Lake for Su Hongfang to lure the Emperor over.

Ouhe Lake was crafted from jade and stone, dazzlingly beautiful.

Though winter had not fully passed, the lake already bloomed with pink lotuses, swaying gently with a drifting boat.

The surrounding trees shimmered with vibrant colors, mesmerizing to the eye.

Look closer, and one would see—they were made of gold and gemstones.

Qing Yan had heard of this place since childhood, but seeing it in person still stunned her.

She lifted her skirt and ran to the lake, bending down to touch the surface with her fingers.

Thankfully, the water was real.

A breeze stirred the surface into ripples, scattering the sunlight into dazzling sparkles across the lake.

Qing Yan was full of wonder.

Wen Xi approached, looking slightly worried.

She said, “Be careful.
Whether or not you change His Majesty’s mind is secondary—the main thing is not to reveal your identity. Don’t let him figure it out.”

“I know.”

The shimmering water cast jewel-toned light onto Qing Yan’s face, softening her youthfulness and adding an almost intoxicated allure.

Wen Xi suddenly felt Qing Yan might actually succeed.

With beauty like this—what man wouldn’t be moved? Let alone a ruler with a palace full of women already.

Looking at Qing Yan, Wen Xi hesitated, then cautiously asked,
“Qing Yan, are you… prepared for that possibility?”

Qing Yan looked puzzled.

“He’s an emperor. If his heart is moved, he might want you today.”

Wen Xi worried that Qing Yan, being so young, might not understand… might be afraid… or taken advantage of.

Qing Yan blinked, then smiled brightly. “I basically understand.”

“Really?”
Wen Xi was skeptical.

“Really. Before my wedding, the old matron explained things to me.”

Wen Xi was shocked.
“You were engaged?”

Her usual calm voice pitched up with disbelief.

“Didn’t go through with it. I ran away.”

Qing Yan said casually.

She was still smiling, but Wen Xi sharply noticed the moment she turned her head—she bit her lip.

Still reeling from the surprise and confusion, Wen Xi opened her mouth to speak—

But Qing Yan suddenly turned back with exaggerated seriousness and said,
“Sister Wen Xi, truthfully… I’m not a good person. I’ve even killed someone.”

Wen Xi’s mouth dropped open—she was just about to ask for the full story when—

Qing Yan pinched her lips and eyes into a silly face.

Giggling, she pushed Wen Xi gently and said, “Don’t worry, Sister Wen Xi! I can handle it!”

After sending Wen Xi away, Qing Yan straightened her clothes and sat down on a lotus-shaped jade bench by the lake.
She admired the rippling, shimmering surface of the water while quietly waiting for Emperor Wen He to arrive.

But after a while, he still hadn’t shown up.

Qing Yan’s thoughts began to drift.

She thought of her lady again. She didn’t know how heartbroken her lady must be after her husband’s death, or if the little miss had learned to walk yet—whether she was already babbling, giggling…

Back then, she wasn’t called Qing Yan. Her lady used to call her Qing’er gently and fondly.
After meeting Princess Huachao, the princess had scoffed that Qing’er sounded too plain and renamed her Qing Yan.

Thinking back to the past made Qing Yan’s heart ache.

Now that she was back in the Yi Kingdom, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to resist going to see her lady again, so she constantly forced herself not to dwell on the years that belonged to Qing’er.

Qing Yan didn’t want to think anymore.

She got up and walked slowly along the edge of Ouhe Lake, admiring the intricate jade carvings as she strolled.

Eventually, she came upon a small, flat-bottomed boat tied to the shore.

Lifting her skirt, she carefully stepped aboard.

The little boat rocked gently, disturbing the surface of the water.

Qing Yan sat hugging her knees, gazing into the distance at the pale pink lotuses sculpted from jade.

The breeze brushed her face, and the rippling water mirrored the sky.

Before she realized it, she was drifting closer and closer to the distant jade lotuses. She had floated far from the shore.

Startled, she turned toward the back of the boat.

At some point, the rope had come loose—the lakeside now far away.

How had this happened?

Qing Yan panicked.

She didn’t know how to row, and she definitely didn’t know how to swim! Flustered, she fumbled for the oar resting nearby, trying to paddle back.

Just then, a breeze swept past, and a pale monk’s robe brushed against her ear and fluttered across her face.

Qing Yan didn’t react at first. But when it sank in, her entire body froze.

She didn’t move at all, but her bright eyes slowly dropped to the water’s surface.

In the ripples, she saw her own reflection—and the unmistakable figure of Duan Wucuo standing behind her.

Her hands trembled. The heavy oar slipped from her grasp.

Duan Wucuo bent down and caught it just in time before it could fall into the lake.

He leaned forward, brushing past her. Qing Yan caught a faint whiff of sandalwood.

Duan Wucuo sat down cross-legged beside her, unhurried and composed.

He began rowing—but in the direction away from shore.

The wooden paddle sliced through the water with a soft splash.

“When did you get on the boat?” Qing Yan asked, glaring at him warily.

Duan Wucuo didn’t answer. He simply said,
“I saw the princess staring at the pink lotuses and thought I’d bring you over for a closer look.”

Qing Yan’s heart was pounding—she was incredibly nervous.

She didn’t know why, but every time she saw Duan Wucuo, fear gripped her. Her pulse would skyrocket.

She wanted to avoid him—but there was nowhere to hide on the tiny boat.

She cautiously inched away, turning her body slightly to the side, facing away from him.

In just a short time, she had already tucked her hair behind her ear multiple times.

Duan Wucuo glanced at her trembling fingertips and asked,
“What is the princess so afraid of?”

Afraid of you!

Qing Yan sat up straighter, putting on her proud princess act.
“It’s just a little cold, that’s all.
Would the prince kindly row us back to shore?”

But the moment she said it, her ears caught something: the sound of the oars stopped.

No way.

He actually stopped rowing?

Duan Wucuo set the paddle aside and, with elegant ease, took off his monk’s robe and draped it over Qing Yan’s shoulders.

Qing Yan jolted and turned toward him in shock.

Duan Wucuo smiled gently and said slowly,
“I heard the princess fell in love with this poor monk at first sight and has been joyfully waiting to marry me.”

Qing Yan: …What nonsense is this?!

Her eyes widened. They were already slightly rounded apricot eyes—now, they looked utterly adorable.

Duan Wucuo’s eyes carried a faint smile as he calmly met her horrified gaze.

With his monk’s robe off, he wore a snow-white long robe underneath.
A corner of it trailed off the edge of the boat, brushing the water’s surface, catching the colorful shimmer of the lake’s jeweled reflections.

The breeze picked up slightly, pushing the boat along with a gentle drift.

Soon, it floated right up to the pink jade lotuses.

The bow knocked softly against the flower leaves, rocked a bit, then came to a stop.

Qing Yan blinked slowly, trying to steady herself.

Duan Wucuo was far too unpredictable—she didn’t dare decide how to react.

His eyes were clearly smiling, but the smile never reached the depths.
It didn’t feel like basking in spring sunlight, but more like drowning in scalding waves.

Duan Wucuo said,
“The marriage isn’t settled yet. If someone were to find us meeting like this in secret, it would all but guarantee your wish to marry this poor monk.”

Qing Yan felt her panic rising.

This was clearly her original scheme—but her target had been Emperor Wen He, not this living curse Duan Wucuo!

She was certain he knew everything and was now mocking her with his words.

Qing Yan forced herself not to admit anything.
“Heh, Your Highness jests. I’m simply out for a leisurely view. Nothing more.”

Duan Wucuo didn’t care how she responded.

Still smiling faintly, he continued:
“If you want people to really misunderstand, simply riding a boat together isn’t enough.”

With that, he leaned down and grabbed her ankle.

“What are you doing?!”

Qing Yan tried to retreat. The boat rocked violently, and water splashed up, soaking the hem of her skirt.

She immediately froze, afraid she might fall into the lake.

Duan Wucuo looked up at her and asked,
“Can you swim?”

Qing Yan stared at him, lips pressed tight.