77. The past drifts away like smoke, vanishing in a dream.

The fragrance of tea filled the air, and the rising steam veiled Fu Lancheng’s gaze, obscuring the emotions in his eyes. “When Ninth Prince Uncle passed away, Fu Shen had not yet been born. My father, moved by his tragic circumstances, entrusted him to my mother for a time. Soon after, my mother became pregnant and was unable to care for him, so he was handed over to the Duke of Virtue and his wife.”

Xu Guiyi knew a little of this history. Prince Xian’an died in the palace at just twenty-one, never having formally established a principal consort. It was rumored that the young Prince An was born of a mistress outside the palace, though the truth was uncertain.

“At that time, the Nangong and Song families were fiercely competing. To secure more support, the Nangong family set their sights on Fu Shen. Raised in pampered luxury by the Duchess of Virtue, and favored by my father, Fu Shen was more unruly than any other prince among us.”

Xu Guiyi seemed to understand. “So, Your Highness means that the Nangong family chose Prince An not only because of the emperor’s favor for the Prince An residence, but also for his ties to the Duke of Virtue?”

Since the Duke’s own daughter had married early, they treated their foster son Fu Shen as dearer than a child of their own blood.

Fu Lancheng nodded. “Yes. Fu Shen was strongly opposed to the marriage at first, but as a passionate youth, he unwittingly fell into the Nangong family’s trap... He had no choice but to accept the match. The Nangong family values profit above all; they always plan far ahead when it comes to their children’s marriages. I just can’t see what advantage they could gain from Fu Jingchu.”

What trap? Xu Guiyi nearly asked aloud, but a sudden spark of insight held her back.

Judging from Fu Lancheng’s words, for Fu Shen’s youthful arrogance to result in such a silent loss, it must have been something that could not be aired publicly—some affair between man and woman.

So that’s how it was...

Some time after the Duke of Ningdu’s birthday banquet, Xu Guiyi visited the Duke of Virtue’s residence and learned from the Duchess herself about the past between the Crown Prince and Prince An. As expected, Fu Lancheng had concealed part of the story when he first spoke of it.

For reasons unknown, he omitted his own involvement.

The Duchess of Virtue recalled their youth with hope still shining in her eyes. If Crown Prince Fu Lancheng was the palace’s foremost phoenix, dazzling for his noble status and striking beauty, then Prince An, Fu Jingchu, was the city’s peerless jewel, adored by both the emperor and the Duke of Virtue.

In the spring of the ninth year of Chengxiao’s reign, the eldest princess of Ningdu’s residence, Nangong Yuzhen, entered the palace under the pretext of accompanying the Noble Consort, thus becoming familiar with royal life and court etiquette—making the emperor and the Nangong family’s behind-the-scenes machinations all too obvious.

At that time, Fu Lancheng had quarreled bitterly with the emperor over the Marquis of Wujing’s affairs, then fallen seriously ill and remained secluded in the Eastern Palace, refusing to leave. The empress and the Song family, fearing he might lose imperial favor, were at a loss.

The Noble Consort Nangong offered an olive branch to the empress, personally persuading the emperor to arrange a marriage between Fu Lancheng and Nangong Yuzhen. After consulting with her family, the Song family agreed to cooperate with the Nangong family, reasoning that preserving the Crown Prince’s position was worth surrendering the empress’s future place.

“This matter pleased all parties, only awaiting a suitable day for the decree. But unfortunately...” The Duchess of Virtue sighed with regret.

Unfortunately, Fu Lancheng, confined in the Eastern Palace, somehow learned of it. For the first time in months, he burst out and stormed into Tai Ning Palace, venting his fury to the emperor, loudly declaring he wanted neither to be Crown Prince nor to marry the Crown Princess.

The emperor was furious, punishing and confining him, but Fu Lancheng refused to yield.

“At the time, the Crown Prince made such a commotion that the Nangong family, offended, took Nangong Yuzhen home. The Noble Consort herself begged the emperor’s forgiveness, claiming their family was unworthy of the Crown Prince and had let him down.” The Duchess’s smile was tinged with contempt.

To this day, no one knows how Fu Lancheng discovered the plot. From then on, his temperament grew even more rebellious, almost finding perverse pleasure in provoking the emperor.

Every few days, he would invent new ways to court disaster, hoping the emperor would strip him of his title. Yet, despite years of such antics, he could not match the merit earned by the Marquis of Changping on the western frontier.

He could never rid himself of the crown prince’s rank.

In Dongbi Hall, Cheng Hewei struggled to recall, “I remember... Prince An and Princess An were married in the autumn of the ninth year of Chengxiao. Crown Princess, did you know?”

“That wedding was truly grand. I was born and raised in Guangling, and never thought much of the Nangong family’s wealth. I’d only heard how much the emperor and the Duke loved Prince An, but never seen it firsthand.”

“Until Prince An’s wedding, I finally understood what it meant for a golden boy and jade girl to shine together. The spectacle was enormous; not only were all the princes and nobles of Guangling present, but even royalty from distant lands returned. The Nangong family’s wealth was real—those carrying the bride price circled the city, meeting end to end...” Cheng Hewei gestured expansively as she spoke.

From her vivid account, Xu Guiyi could sense the grandeur and opulence of that legendary wedding.

“But what does a splendid wedding matter? Their marriage was still unhappy; otherwise, they wouldn’t have remained childless for years,” Lu Zhirou interjected, abruptly ending Cheng Hewei’s praise and plunging the trio into silence.

After their union, Fu Shen became acquainted with a musician from Swallow Snow Pavilion named Xianle, famed as Guangling’s foremost harp mistress, adept at the seven-stringed zither. Since Prince An was also a lover of music, the two became confidants, secretly meeting for a long time.

Eventually, their spiritual bond was discovered by Princess An—beautiful, intelligent, and of noble bearing. It was said she personally brought hundreds of guards and surrounded Swallow Snow Pavilion like an iron fortress, ejecting all unrelated persons to prevent any leak of news.

Such a dramatic action was carried out under the pretense of apprehending thieves, thus preserving Prince An’s dignity.

Overawed by the Nangong family’s formidable power, the modest Swallow Snow Pavilion could only protect itself, so the musician Xianle was forced to leave Guangling and wander afar.

Hearing this, Xu Guiyi felt something was amiss and mused, “So you’re saying this proprietor Qi was Prince An’s confidante. But was she really just a confidante?”

Xu Guiyi was puzzled, for she had seen Prince An go to great lengths for Qu Anlan.

A prince of such libertine reputation surely had more than one confidante!

Her question made Cheng Hewei and Lu Zhirou falter. “Well, whether she was a confidante or an old flame, we bystanders cannot know. Only Prince An could answer that.”

Xu Guiyi shook her head, dissatisfied, then suddenly her eyes gleamed. “Now I’m curious—just how skilled was the so-called foremost harp mistress of Guangling?”

She turned her bright gaze on Cheng Hewei and Lu Zhirou. “You’ve lived in Guangling all along; surely you’ve heard Xianle play. Was she truly the best?”

Lu Zhirou hesitated, “She was certainly far better than me.”

Ah? Did she say something wrong? Xu Guiyi regretted it at once, cursing herself inwardly.

She was about to apologize, but Cheng Hewei spoke up, “After all these years, I wonder if Proprietor Qi still plays? Who could have foreseen that the famed harp mistress Xianle would join an opera troupe, change her name, and become a martial actor? Such a dramatic turn of fortune!”

The red beans cannot bear to watch, eyes full of longing tears.

Lu Zhirou rubbed her nose, admiringly, “Isn’t this just as the books say? Talented people excel no matter what they do. Look at Xianle—ah, no, now she’s Qi Xiangsi, Proprietor Qi. As a musician, she was Guangling’s top harp mistress; as a martial actor, she’s thriving, successful everywhere.”

Objectively, such dazzling talent is hard not to admire!

“But truly, Proprietor Qi’s performance as a martial actor is so convincing that, if the troupe leader hadn’t said so, I might not have recognized her.” Lu Zhirou added.

“Some people are born beautiful, whether man or woman—it’s nothing unusual,” Xu Guiyi said naturally.

“Is that so?” Lu Zhirou thoughtfully recalled Qi Xiangsi’s features, then nodded.

“Of course. When I was in Luan Province, my grandmother often said the finest looks in the world are those that blur the lines between male and female.” Xu Guiyi finished, pleased, and popped a pastry in her mouth.

“Crown Princess—?” Cheng Hewei suddenly cried out, stopping Xu Guiyi mid-chew.

Seeing her alarmed expression, Xu Guiyi sensed something was wrong. “...What is it?”

Lu Zhirou covered her mouth, eyes wide. “Crown Princess, you just ate... chestnut cake... Weren’t you always averse to the taste of chestnut cake?”

Xu Guiyi’s upper teeth clenched her lower lip in silence. She’d acted so quickly, she hadn’t even looked at the pastries before her.

Oh dear, any good mood was now thoroughly ruined.

“Taoxi, how could you be so careless, bringing chestnut cake before the Crown Princess? Don’t you know she dislikes it most?” Cheng Hewei scolded the maid while pouring water for Xu Guiyi, and Lu Zhirou hurried to pat her back gently.

Taoxi fell to her knees, repeatedly begging forgiveness, though it could hardly be blamed on her. Xu Guiyi never eats chestnut cake, but Cheng Hewei loves it—the plate was probably meant for Cheng Hewei and somehow ended up beside Xu Guiyi.

“No matter, it was my own carelessness. Don’t blame Taoxi,” Xu Guiyi said, recovering after a bout of coughing.

Seeing her cough so fiercely, Lu Zhirou shifted her concern from the chestnut cake to Xu Guiyi’s well-being, but Cheng Hewei was not so easily appeased. For some reason, Xu Guiyi felt her gaze now resembled Fu Lancheng’s from the previous day...

“Hewei, why are you looking at me like that?” Xu Guiyi forced composure.

Cheng Hewei’s gaze grew intent, her voice odd, “I was just thinking that your looks are already the finest in the world. If you dressed as a man, you could easily pass for one.”

Lu Zhirou: “...”

Xu Guiyi: “...” Where had she slipped?

After a moment, Cheng Hewei burst out laughing. “Just a jest, Crown Princess and Sister Lu, don’t take it seriously.”

Xu Guiyi replied with a smile, “If you two dressed as men, you’d make handsome gentlemen yourselves—why tease me?”

Lu Zhirou exclaimed, “Sister Cheng, your tone was so serious just now, you frightened me!”

Cheng Hewei’s gaze softened again. “My mistake. I’ll punish myself with three cups of green plum wine.” Her awkward attempt at diversion was remarkably similar to Fu Lancheng’s own style.