Chapter 15

Lingzhi relayed the news she had heard with animated indignation. “No one is going to outshine our princess!”

I couldn’t help laughing.

She was still caught up in those rivalries, while Zhou Hui and I had gradually begun to live a little like an ordinary married couple.

Whenever he came, we never spoke of anything outside Jingren Palace.

Because of the trauma from giving birth to Wangshu, I did not want to become pregnant again and often refused to share his bed. He was never angry.

For his birthday last year, he had a patch of medicinal herbs prepared in Jingren Palace, and he planted the seeds in the soil together with me.

People often regret being only one step short of a perfect life. But sometimes, a little contentment is better than having everything.

41

Footsteps sounded, followed by a clear voice. “Little Lingzhi, bring the plum wine for me.”

Lu Zhaozhao had come again.

Who could have imagined that in all these years, Virtuous Consort Lu Zhaozhao would be the only person in the harem free to come and go from Jingren Palace?

She was not very interested in Zhou Hui; she seemed to like me more, and later grew even fonder of Wangshu. She once gave the girl a small bow she had made herself. Last year, she brought a spear to my palace, and Wangshu learned spear techniques from her. She was already quite good.

We sat in the courtyard, enjoying the breeze and drinking wine. Wangshu’s clear voice reading aloud rang from inside the room.

Lu Zhaozhao sighed. “I don’t envy you for anything else. I only envy you for having this daughter.”

She shot me an irritated glance. “A few days ago, when I paid my respects at Cining Palace, Zhao Yining started acting up again. She put on airs and told Wangshu that it was such an important occasion—the First Prince’s birthday—and yet her mother wouldn’t even show her face. Even if it were only for the princess’s future, she ought to go out and socialize more.”

“The whole room was full of people with their own agendas. Guess how Wangshu answered?”

I smiled at her. “I told Wangshu that if she ever faced that sort of situation, she could simply say I was unwell.”

Lu Zhaozhao shook her head, her tone softening. “Wangshu said whether her mother wanted to show her face was for her to decide. She shouldn’t have to suffer for her daughter’s sake.”

I was stunned. Wangshu had never told me about this.

“She’s only eight years old.”

Lu Zhaozhao continued, “Zhao Yining was taken aback, but still tried to save face. She said it was only natural for a mother to do everything for her child. Didn’t Wangshu want her mother to think of her in everything?”

“Little Wangshu stood there properly and said seriously that her mother didn’t have to live according to anyone else’s expectations—not even hers.”

My nose suddenly stung, and the scene before me blurred.

Lu Zhaozhao set down her cup, her voice tinged with wistfulness. “Mingyue, do you remember what you said to the Emperor in the woods at the spring hunt?”

“You said you had been forced to become someone who went against her own heart. Perhaps he loved, cherished, and depended on you, but he didn’t truly understand you. Instead, he kept you trapped.”

“I remembered those words all these years. I thought the love and favor of an emperor weren’t such a good thing after all.”

“But only that day, when I heard Wangshu say those words, did I understand: to truly love and cherish someone is to let them live without having to meet anyone’s expectations.”

“Cheng Mingyue, Zhou Hui’s love and favor were false. Wangshu is the one who truly loves and cherishes you most in this world.”

42

I stood up so abruptly that my cup fell and shattered, spilling wine across the ground.

Seeing my pale face, Lu Zhaozhao jumped to her feet too. “What’s wrong?”

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

So that was all it took to understand the final meaning of a prophecy: a single moment.

Years ago, Master Juekong had said it was too early to decide whether I would be cherished by an emperor for my whole life.

When I first entered the palace, I naturally thought the emperor he meant was the late Emperor.

That night in the Cold Palace, I realized that the emperor might be Zhou Hui in the future.

It turned out I had to look one step farther still.

What Master Juekong truly meant was not the Cheng family’s survival, but the future fate of the realm.

What had been his second sentence?

Not only emperors—anyone in a position of power must put the realm first.

Countless events from the past years rushed through my mind.

Zhou Hui had spent years exhausted by weakening the power of the imperial relatives and fighting factional struggles.

The forces that had once allied to put him on the throne had now become the greatest obstacle to his governance.

The tax burden was heavy, disasters ravaged the land, refugees rebelled, the people could not live in peace, and the borders were unstable.

That was why Master Juekong had told me: Miss Mingyue, look a little farther ahead.

Yes. I had to think about how to cultivate the realm’s future ruler and bring new life to the empire.

I turned to look into the hall. Wangshu was not distracted by the commotion outside. Her clear voice continued reciting: “Fortune opens with a sage-born age; Heaven’s mandate descends upon the people. The Son of Heaven governs the people, following Heaven’s will and earning the people’s hearts.”

The girl was brilliant, unbound by her maternal family. At only three years old, she had sat on the Dragon Throne, with far greater advantages than Zhou Hui had ever had.

She was the one who would rewrite history.

At last, tears welled up in my eyes.

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