Ch 14: When the Wild Goose Returns

Ever since the day she flew into a rage, the Empress had been plagued by unrelenting abdominal pain.
The imperial physicians at Hua Feng Palace had been coming in nonstop.
Emperor Wen He, more concerned than anyone, dropped everything—after morning court, he would hurry straight to her palace and stay by her side day and night.

He had made Su Miao the Empress partly because she was the “daughter” of Prince Xingyuan, but more truthfully, because he genuinely liked her.
Even knowing she was spoiled and headstrong, Emperor Wen He often turned a blind eye.
He liked her because she was willful.

Now, seeing the Empress suffering daily, her complexion haggard and unable to eat,
the emperor hovered around her calling her “my precious” with every breath, wishing he could bear the pain in her place.

At last, the Empress fell asleep. Emperor Wen He quietly stepped outside and asked,
“What is it?”

Liu Zhengping replied in a low voice,
“Your Majesty, Princess Huachao has been in the capital for quite some time now.
This marriage remains unsettled—if word gets back to the Tao Kingdom that she’s been left in limbo, it might reflect poorly…”

Emperor Wen He, consumed with worry for his Empress and the little prince she carried, responded impatiently,
“Let Consort Shu find a few noble ladies to keep her company.
They can go to Chunmei Palace or Liu Garden Hill.”

After a pause, he added,
“Prince Kang’s residence is close to Chunmei Palace. Have Princess Consort Kang accompany them as well.”

“Your servant understands.”

Without another word, the emperor turned and hurried back inside to tuck in his Empress and their future son.

Liu Zhengping bowed until the emperor disappeared, then turned and exited. Eunuchs and palace maids along the path bowed low and greeted him respectfully:
“Eunuch Liu.”

Just as Liu Zhengping stepped out of the courtyard, Chang Bai rushed forward to hand him a handwarmer.
“It’s cold, Father. Keep your hands warm.”

Chang Bai was fifteen or sixteen, fair-skinned and delicate in appearance.
His especially bright, clear eyes were like still water—pure and untainted, a rare sight in the palace.

He didn’t resemble a lowly palace servant at all.

Chang Bai was Liu Zhengping’s adopted son.
Eunuchs were supposed to be childless. Those with higher status often selected promising young eunuchs to adopt, compensating for their inability to have children of their own.

“Good boy.”

Liu Zhengping patted his shoulder and continued on his way to carry out the emperor’s orders.

Chang Bai watched his foster father leave, then turned to go.
Just then, he heard someone call, “Qing’er!”

He paused and turned around.

Two palace maids rushed by with arms full of clean laundry from the washing house.

“Qing’er, hurry up or the mistress will be furious!”

“I know, I’m coming…” The one called Qing’er was small and thin, struggling to hold up the heavy pile in her arms.

In a flash, the two maids were gone from view.

Chang Bai stood under the warm midday sun, smiling softly.

He looked like a harmless, obedient child.

—

At Jinghua Palace, Liu Zhengping delivered the emperor’s order to Consort Shu.

She was brushing the hair of the Eighth Princess. After dismissing Liu Zhengping, her arched brows furrowed slightly with irritation.

She preferred quiet and disliked noise and bustle.

Still, an imperial command was not to be ignored. She could only carry it out dutifully.

That afternoon, she summoned two noble daughters: Cheng Mujin, the Left Chancellor’s eldest legitimate granddaughter, and Tao Ningxin, the youngest granddaughter of the Right Chancellor.
She also sent word to other palaces, inviting Princess Huachao to Chunmei Palace the next day for plum blossom viewing.

—

Meanwhile, Qing Yan was curled up in the corner of her bed, bundled in blankets like a little ball.

“If you’re sick, you need to take medicine.”

Wen Xi frowned at her.

Qing Yan curved her eyes into crescent moons and gave a winning smile.
“When I was little, I’d just bundle up and drink hot water when I was sick.
I always got better on my own—no medicine needed.”

She wasn’t lying. Back when she was just a servant, she couldn’t afford medicine for every cold.
Instead, she’d drink as much hot water as she could, bury herself under a quilt, and sweat it out.
Only when it became unbearable would she splurge on medicine.

That day she jumped into Ouhé Lake, soaking herself through.
With the late winter wind, catching a chill was inevitable.

Still, it had taken two days for the fever to show, which even Wen Xi found odd.

Wen Xi reached over and touched her forehead.
Sure enough, she wasn’t running a fever like she had the night before.

“Can you manage to go to Chunmei Palace tomorrow?”

Qing Yan nodded enthusiastically.
“I promise to be a perfectly healthy Princess of Huachao for you, Sister Wen Xi!”

Wen Xi didn’t press further. She handed her a cloth soaked in medicinal water.
“Use this on your eyes.”

Qing Yan paused before taking it.
She didn’t place it on her eyes right away, but asked suddenly,
“Sister Wen Xi… is Prince Zhan’s fief along the Zhan Yuan River?”

Wen Xi nodded.

“Then why hasn’t he ever gone there?
Will he stay in the capital forever?”

“Prince Kang was a special case—he had a leg condition and withdrew completely from court affairs.
Other than that, no adult prince stays in the capital indefinitely.
Especially not someone like Prince Zhan, who poses a threat to the throne.
Even if His Majesty were willing, the court officials would never allow it.
Now that he’s taken monastic vows on behalf of the emperor, once the three years are up, he’ll likely leave for his fief.”

“Oh…” Qing Yan held the medicinal cloth in her hand, a bit absent-minded.

“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, lay down obediently, and covered her eyes.

Wen Xi didn’t ask further, quietly closing the door behind her as she left.

The medicinal cloth stung the moment it touched her eyes, making them tear up uncontrollably.
Qing Yan gritted her teeth against the pain and thought of the Zhan Yuan River.

She was from Zhan Yuan.
Born and raised in Zhan Yuan Prefecture.
Her former mistress was the daughter of the Prefect there.
She didn’t want to go back—she couldn’t go back.
Someone there would surely recognize her true identity.

“What do I do…” she mumbled, eyes gradually lighting up as an idea formed.
Why did it have to be her, using seduction to change Emperor Wenhe’s mind?

“Maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong…”
Qing Yan suddenly pulled the cloth from her eyes.
“No one can force Prince Zhan. If I annoy him enough, he might just go to the emperor himself and ask not to marry me!”

Outside, Wen Xi knocked firmly and scolded,
“Your time’s not up—don’t take the compress off secretly.”

Startled, Qing Yan flopped back onto the bed and obediently lay still.

---

The next morning, just as she’d said, her fever was gone.
Wen Xi observed her closely—Qing Yan now moved with ease, showing no trace of yesterday’s heat or weakness.

It was honestly impressive.

Chunmei Palace, a winter imperial retreat for viewing plum blossoms, was vast and filled with dozens of varieties of plum trees—truly a spectacle.
In addition to the flowers, the palace also had hot springs, a great indulgence in winter.

But Qing Yan had no interest in flower viewing. She was distracted and inattentive.

Consort Shu was quiet and only spoke occasionally to fulfill her duty as hostess.
Cheng Mujin was gentle and quiet by nature.
Tao Ningxin was lively, but only when she felt like it.

Seeing how silent everyone was, Qing Yan lost the desire to make small talk. She propped her chin in her hand and stared silently at the blossoms.

Lunch was served at Chunmei Palace.
The moment it arrived, the dazed Qing Yan immediately perked up, eyes lighting with focus as they locked onto the array of delicacies.

When Wen Xi handed her chopsticks, she subtly pressed Qing Yan’s palm with her pinky—
a signal.

Qing Yan understood and straightened up properly, letting the maids serve her before taking small, delicate bites.

Still, she felt like eating this way sucked all the joy out of food.

She thought her bites were small and elegant, but in others’ eyes, it was a picture of serious, almost reverent eating.

Consort Shu couldn’t help but glance at her.

Qing Yan kept her gaze lowered, focused on the food. Her lips opened and closed slightly as she chewed, her soft pale cheeks moving just a bit.

It was the same food, yet when she ate it, it somehow seemed more delicious.

Consort Shu took a sip of tea, glanced at Qing Yan again, and—perhaps infected by her enthusiasm—ate a little more than usual herself.

After lunch, trays of fresh fruit and delicate pastries were brought out.

Qing Yan didn’t care that no one was speaking. She nibbled on cakes quietly.
Following Wen Xi’s earlier instructions, she took tiny bites and let each one melt slowly in her mouth.

Just then, a maid announced that Princess Consort Kang had arrived.

But her presence did little to warm the chilly atmosphere of the room.

Only after Qing Yan had sampled every unfamiliar pastry on the table did she wash her hands in the basin provided.

Then she turned to Consort Shu and said directly,
“Your Ladyship, I have something I’d like to ask.”

Everyone looked up—finally, someone was breaking the awkward silence.

“What is it, Princess?”

“I wanted to ask—does Your Ladyship know what Prince Zhan dislikes?”

The room fell into stunned silence.

Though it was no secret that the emperor intended to marry her to Prince Zhan, to ask so bluntly was… a bit much.
Everyone, including Consort Shu, assumed she was trying to find a way to win Prince Zhan’s favor.

“Prince Zhan…” Consort Shu did know a bit more than others, but she had to choose her words carefully.
After some thought, she replied,
“In my opinion, Prince Zhan dislikes women who are too forward.”

Tao Ningxin let out a little laugh and added,
“Her Ladyship’s not wrong. Plenty of bold girls have tried throwing themselves at him—best case, they got a cold look. Worst case… they didn’t survive it.”

Not fond of forward women?

Qing Yan’s eyes moved slightly as she recalled their first meeting at Yongzhou Temple—her nervous awkwardness mistaken for seduction…

Consort Shu added,
“Also, he hates cats.”

Cheng Mujin looked at Qing Yan.
“Princess, when are you to marry Prince Zhan?”

Tao Ningxin teased,
“Sister Mujin, don’t be so direct—you’ve made the princess blush!”

Qing Yan touched her face and muttered dejectedly,
“But I don’t even get to see him…”

“Cough!”
Consort Shu choked on her tea, shocked by Qing Yan’s honesty.
This princess… was even more blunt than County Princess Zhenxian.
That… might be a problem.

Princess Consort Kang, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke:
“These plum trees bloom every year—there’s nothing new in seeing them.
This winter, I raised a few in my own garden. Perhaps you’d like to visit?”

She smiled at Qing Yan, then added:
“By the way, Princess Huachao may not know this, but Prince Zhan’s residence was damaged three years ago.
Since then, he’s stayed at the Kang residence whenever he’s returned to the capital.”

Qing Yan’s calm eyes lit up like starlight flooding a river.
Her pretty face seemed to glow with it, dimming everyone else’s by comparison.
A single look, a single smile—some faces truly did change with emotion.

Qing Yan tilted her head.
“Bring me a food box.”

The others watched in confusion as she carefully selected one of each pastry from the table and packed them into the box.

—

Their group arrived at Prince Kang’s residence, and just as they entered the front courtyard, they encountered Duan Wucuo and Prince Kang, Duan Wuyu.

Prince Kang, with his leg ailment, sat in a wheelchair.
Duan Wucuo walked beside him.

Consort Shu was just considering whether they should step aside when something lavender darted past her peripheral vision.

She froze.

Before anyone else could react, Qing Yan, holding the food box with both hands, skipped straight toward Duan Wucuo.

She stopped in front of him, raised her face, and looked up with affectionate eyes.

Then, lifting the lid of the box, she said sweetly,
“I made these myself—won’t you try one?”

Everyone behind her—Consort Shu, Princess Consort Kang, Cheng Mujin, and Tao Ningxin—stood frozen in disbelief.

Duan Wucuo’s gaze drifted from her clear eyes to the little box she held.

After a pause, he picked up a lotus-flavored crisp cake.

Under Qing Yan’s expectant gaze, his long, well-shaped fingers brought the delicate pastry to his lips and took a bite.

Then he said,
“Open your mouth.”

Qing Yan blinked in confusion.
“Huh—?”

Before she could finish, Duan Wucuo stuffed the bitten pastry into her mouth, his thumb slowly wiping the jam off the corner of her lips.

Then, he said,

“Disgusting.”

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