Chapter 1: Returning to the Capital

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The spring sunlight was gentle, casting its warmth upon the inner chambers of the Princess’s residence.

Clothes and shoes lay scattered across the floor; a woman’s delicate, fragrant undergarment was draped carelessly over the copper mirror atop the dressing table.

Behind the sheer curtains, two figures were entwined, their shadows flickering in the soft light. The bed rocked violently with their movements, creaking urgently as if it might collapse at any moment.

“Cheng Xueyang, have you no shame—”

“Ah!”

Cheng Xueyang jolted awake, her body slick with sweat, though it was the heart of winter. Returning to this familiar place, she found herself haunted by that wild, reckless day five years ago.

Lying on her bed, she gazed at the chamber—at once familiar and strange. The room remained, but everything else had changed.

As Princess Xuanyun of the Grand Lan Dynasty, she had once used the power of her shadow guards to abduct a newly prominent court official and force him into a night of passion. Anyone who heard the tale would find it beyond belief.

—Just how desperate for a man was this princess?

At the time, Cheng Xueyang cared nothing for others’ opinions. She liked—no, she loved him, loved him to her very core. For Gu Mo, there was nothing she would not do.

But Gu Mo was like a dead lake, a man obsessed with his career, unthawed by any warmth.

He had his ambitions.

To marry a princess would only obstruct his path.

Cheng Xueyang was certain: even if Gu Mo felt the slightest affection for her—though he likely despised her—he would never sacrifice his future for her.

He was that stubborn.

And yet, she could not let him go, no matter how she tried.

That day’s madness had truly been her final struggle before saying farewell.

If she could not have him, then she would rather not see him again. She begged her father, the Emperor, for permission to leave and went to her fiefdom.

At the time, Princess Yunxiang’s mother was the Emperor’s favorite. For some reason, she won his ear and it became law that Cheng Xueyang could not return to the capital without a summons.

So she remained in her territory for five years, only receiving the imperial decree to return last month.

Now, the court needed a princess to be sent in marriage to the grasslands.

And so, the forgotten princess was remembered once more.

“Your Highness, this maid deserves a thousand deaths for coming late!”

The maid, who had heard Cheng Xueyang’s cries in her sleep, hurried in at last, trembling as she knelt in terror.

Cheng Xueyang had not taken all her servants to her fief, leaving some behind to maintain the princess’s residence.

Those now serving her had not seen their mistress in five years, and coming late due to sleepiness only heightened their fear.

Cheng Xueyang looked out the window. Dawn had only just broken.

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“Prepare my bathwater,” Cheng Xueyang ordered with a wave of her hand. The dream had left her drenched in sweat and wide awake; she might as well rise early, for there was much to do today.

The maid quickly set about her task. Only after being dismissed without reprimand did she relax a little.

—The princess seemed changed.

Five years ago, if a maid had slept through her night watch and failed to respond to the princess’s calls, she would have been sent to the punishment hall for a flogging.

Or perhaps, as rumors now said, Princess Xuanyun had fallen from grace, was to be cast aside and sent to the grasslands, and so had learned to keep her head down.

Our princess was truly pitiable: exiled to that bitter cold land for five years, and now about to be sent to herd sheep on the steppe.

After bathing and dressing, Cheng Xueyang donned her royal attire—a sumptuous brocade gown, golden hairpins, and sparkling jewelry. She found it almost uncomfortable; she had never noticed how heavy the ornaments felt.

If she were to sell them, the proceeds could cover a whole year’s expenses for the people of Baiyun County.

She mocked herself quietly: “Cheng Xueyang, it seems you’ve grown too used to hardship and forgotten how to enjoy life.”

“You are so beautiful, Your Highness.”

The maid was dazzled. The princess had always been stunning, famed as the most beautiful woman in the capital. Now, with her youthful innocence replaced by mature grace and intelligence, she was even more captivating.

But what did beauty matter? To a certain someone, she was nothing more than a decorative vase.

But it was all in the past now.

In fact, she was almost grateful for those five bitter years, which had transformed her and allowed her to let go of that person.

Cheng Xueyang ate breakfast alone.

She frowned. “Where is Xuanxuan?”

Come to think of it, her personal maid, Suyun, was also nowhere to be seen this morning.

A maid beside her hesitated, then replied, “Your Highness, Sister Suyun went after the young mistress.”

Cheng Xueyang sighed inwardly. As expected, that girl was like a wild colt—never able to sit still in a new place.

Whose temperament had she inherited, to be so unruly?

Poor Suyun, forced to keep up with her.

The maid added, “Young Master Yun has also gone out. He left a message: ‘I am off to find the most beautiful flower to present to my beloved princess.’”

Mischief, all of them.

“Ying San,” Cheng Xueyang called.

A shadow guard appeared like a wraith, greeting her respectfully.

Cheng Xueyang pressed her forehead. “Go fetch Young Master Yun back. Tell him that the imperial exams are near—he should be studying, not playing around. If he doesn’t bring back the top honors, I’ll have his head for a sacrifice to the heavens.”

“At your command.”

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With the household’s mischief-makers absent, Cheng Xueyang finished her meal without enjoyment, while the maids behind her busied themselves with gossip.

Her Highness had returned to the capital only the night before, and few knew of it, but everyone in the residence was astounded.

For the princess had brought back with her a four-year-old young mistress and a strikingly handsome young man!

There was no doubt the young mistress was the princess’s daughter; the resemblance was uncanny, a miniature version of Her Highness herself—clearly her own flesh and blood.

Yet the little girl called Young Master Yun “father.”

However, that Young Master Yun was far too young—seventeen or eighteen at most. If he had truly fathered a four-year-old, the princess’s tastes would have been… remarkable.

Young Master Yun had been assigned to a side courtyard to study in peace and was instructed not to disturb Her Highness. He did not live with her.

Clearly, at most, he was a stepfather.

Who the real father might be, no one knew.

After breakfast, Cheng Xueyang ordered the carriage to be readied for her visit to the palace.

She had returned—if she failed to make an appearance, rumors and baseless accusations would inevitably arise.

As the carriage passed through Shenwu Avenue, the street was as bustling as ever. A familiar aroma drifted into the carriage, awakening her appetite.

Every year, when passing through here, Cheng Xueyang would buy herself some Li’s sesame cakes; just the scent would stop her in her tracks.

“Would you like some cakes, Your Highness?” asked the coachman, Song Hui, who had served her the longest and knew her tastes intimately.

Cheng Xueyang was about to reply when Song Hui added, “Your Highness, someone has bought up all the cakes.”

She lifted the curtain. The carriage was stopped beside the stall, and she could clearly see the owner wrapping up the last of the cakes for a tall, distinguished man.

He stood with his back to her, his features hidden, yet his commanding presence and the air of nobility about him were unmistakable.

He reminded her of someone.

He had never cared for sesame cakes.

Whenever she ate them before him, he would always look on in disdain:

“A princess, yet you crave such unrefined food? You’ll cry about pimples and heatiness, completely unreasonable.”

Cheng Xueyang shook her head, trying to banish those memories.

Suddenly, the man turned slightly, revealing his profile.

In that instant, Cheng Xueyang let the curtain fall.

“Let’s go,” she ordered.

The carriage rolled away, slowly disappearing into the distance.