84. My longing for you is like the moon above the river tower.

When Xu Guiyi sat in the main hall of the Yuan family, listening to Lord Yuan and Yuan Huaizhen confessing and apologizing one after another, Madam Shen also hurried over from the Marquis of Cheng’en’s residence.

As soon as Madam Shen entered, she heard that Wenjing had visited the Marquis of Cheng’en’s residence. She quickly sent someone to inquire and learned that Xu Guiyi had come to the Yuan family today. Sensing that something serious had happened, she rushed over in haste.

Madam Shen’s way of handling matters was quite different from the daughters of the Xu family. The Xu girls were all forthright and tough—wealthy and powerful, so what harm was there in being a bit domineering? Madam Shen, however, was like a fine blade slicing flesh—at first, one hardly felt any pain, but as she persisted with her slow, relentless cuts, the pain would eventually become excruciating, draining one dry, leaving one to wish for death.

As for the sharp-tongued and crafty Lady Yuan, Xu Guiyi could not be bothered to waste a single word with Lord Yuan. With a sullen face, she said coldly, “I hear Lady Yuan and Lord Yuan have been married for thirty years. I would not wish to separate you, making you dwell apart in life and death. However, Yuan Chenshi is far too mean-spirited and heartless to be the mistress of a household. This matter, Lord Yuan, is for you to consider carefully.”

Lord Yuan kowtowed in trembling gratitude, while Yuan Chenshi had crumpled to the floor long before, like a great mother worm whose bones had been pulled out.

Xu Guiyi then turned her gaze to Yuan Huaizhen. She found him disagreeable and had little to say, but remembering that he was the one Xu Zhuning cherished, she restrained herself and warned, “Yuan Huaizhen, if you look down on my Xu family’s daughter, simply present a letter of divorce. The Xu family will take it with both hands. Do not think that because Zhuning loves you, you can gloss things over and muddle through. You are a man, seeking fame and honor. Have you never heard the old saying, ‘If one cannot sweep one’s own house, how can one sweep the world?’” Yuan Huaizhen hastily bowed his head to the ground three times, repeatedly begging for forgiveness.

Finally, Xu Guiyi cast a glance at the spoiled and overbearing Yuan family daughter. She had imagined some haughty, delicate lady—yet she was only a plump, broad-faced, clumsy young woman.

“The Yuan family’s young lady is both filial and virtuous, a paragon we can only look up to. Such fine character is all thanks to Lady Yuan’s excellent guidance—wouldn’t you agree, Lord Yuan?” With that, she shot Lord Yuan a sidelong glance. When children make mistakes, it is naturally the parents who bear the blame.

Lord Yuan dragged his daughter along, apologizing and speaking kindly. As for the once arrogant Yuan young lady, she dared not utter a single word—only kowtowing repeatedly, her face ashen.

Thus, Madam Shen and Xu Guiyi—one gentle, one forceful—spent half a day grinding down the Yuan family in their grand hall. In their wake, four or five teacups were shattered, before they swaggered out, collecting Xu Zhuning and returning to the Marquis of Cheng’en’s residence.

Upon returning, Madam Shen told Xu Chengzhen to make arrangements to have the Yuan family’s son-in-law transferred to Yazhou—the longer the term, the better. Since his virtuous wife must accompany him, and Yazhou was at the edge of the world, far beyond Guangling City, it would be eight or ten years before she could return to the capital, if ever.

The next day, Xu Guiyi and Fu Lanchen went to the palace to pay respects. Along the way, Xu Guiyi’s mood remained sour.

Fu Lanchen, noticing her somber expression, smiled lightly and asked, “I heard that the Crown Princess threw quite a fit at the Yuan family yesterday. Why so glum today?”

Xu Guiyi turned her head at his words, replying irritably, “Your Highness is busy with state affairs—why trouble yourself with our trifles?”

Her attitude made Fu Lanchen laugh. “If it’s a trifle, why would the Crown Princess be so incensed? And if it’s not, may I not inquire?”

Xu Guiyi, unwilling to banter, forced a dry laugh. “Your Highness flatters me—it was just a family matter, and it’s already settled.”

But Fu Lanchen would not let her off so easily. “It’s said even an upright judge cannot settle family disputes. Is the Crown Princess now as wise as Judge Bao?”

“So Your Highness thinks I was too domineering yesterday?” Xu Guiyi asked, resentful.

He chuckled. “I’ve done far more domineering things, and am quite used to it. But the Crown Princess is still frowning—are you pondering how to explain yourself to the Emperor and Empress?”

Xu Guiyi paused, a crafty gleam suddenly appearing in her eyes. “Would Your Highness be willing to help me?”

Fu Lanchen only waved his hand with a deep smile, not answering. Xu Guiyi’s eyes dimmed a little with disappointment.

In the long pavilion, the pear blossoms had just opened—the fragrance of spring stretched for miles, snow-white as the sea.

Fu Lanchen, leading the five thousand Qilin Army soldiers the Emperor had assigned him, set out in grand procession to inspect the western frontier. It had been exactly one year since he led troops to support the campaign in Liaodong.

In that short year, the Crown Prince’s prestige at court had grown, and the various factions were beginning to stir restlessly.

During Xu Guiyi’s recent visits to the palace, she found that the Princesses Zhao and Qi looked at her with new, complicated eyes. From what the Empress said, once Fu Lanchen returned from the western border, the Princes Zhao and Qi would be sent to their respective fiefs—Zhao to Dengzhou, Qi to Quzhou, both wealthy and prosperous lands.

Yet some people are never satisfied, always coveting what they cannot have, their eyes red with envy and hatred—how pitiful.

If it were up to Xu Guiyi and Fu Lanchen, with their lazy temperaments, they would be only too glad to have the Emperor bestow a fertile fief upon them, to become wealthy, idle princes, far removed from the affairs of court and palace, enjoying a life of leisure.

At the end of the month, the Yuan family’s young lady departed with her husband for distant Yazhou. It was said that Lady Yuan, to pray for her beloved daughter, went to reside for a time at the Qing Temple outside the city, leaving the household affairs to Lord Yuan’s newly elevated favored concubine.

Since Xu Zhuning was staying at the Marquis of Cheng’en’s residence in anticipation of childbirth, Yuan Huaizhen would run there directly after court each day. The Marquis, caring for his junior, suggested to Lord Yuan that the young couple stay there until after the child’s full moon, and move back later. After Xu Guiyi’s stern warning, Lord Yuan dared not refuse.

The Empress confided to Xu Guiyi that, for some reason, this year seemed especially auspicious: the Marquis of Changping’s grand wedding, the Crown Prince’s growing maturity—her long-cherished wishes had been fulfilled at last. She wanted to make a vow at Wuxing Mountain in gratitude. With Fu Lanchen absent from the Eastern Palace, Xu Guiyi thought she might as well accompany the Empress to Wuxing Mountain.

For this reason, Xu Guiyi entered the palace daily to help prepare for the Empress’s journey. Just after passing through the imperial gardens, she saw Nangong Mingchen leading a group of palace attendants, apparently heading toward the Noble Consort’s palace.

“Greetings, Your Highness the Crown Princess,” Nangong Mingchen and the attendants bowed.

Xu Guiyi nodded slightly, her gaze falling on the vivid peonies in their hands. She remarked with surprise, “Such exquisite peonies are rare this season. Where did Marquis Gongmin find them?”

At her words, Nangong Mingchen’s expression relaxed, a leisurely smile on his face. “The Noble Consort adores peonies. As her nephew, it’s only right that I make a little effort.”

Xu Guiyi’s eyes lifted faintly, a subtle smile on her lips. “I’ve heard His Majesty set aside a plot in the Eastern Capital for the Noble Consort to cultivate peonies especially for her. So the peonies in her palace are always the brightest and most splendid.”

Though the Nangong family had fallen, with Prince Ningdu ill at home, the Emperor’s favor for the Noble Consort remained undiminished. The peonies of Lanchi Palace were still the most beautiful in Guangling’s imperial city.

Whatever the true state of Lanchi Palace, in the eyes of the world, this was how it appeared: pots of radiant peonies delivered on schedule were proof of the Noble Consort’s status, and the Nangong family’s hidden card for a future resurgence.

As the most clear-headed member of the Nangong family, Nangong Mingchen, upon hearing Xu Guiyi’s words, only shook his head with a faint sigh. He told the attendants, “Take the peonies inside—do not keep the Noble Consort waiting. I will come by shortly.” The attendants bowed and withdrew, while Xiyue and Qingyu also took a few steps back at Xu Guiyi’s gesture.

Xu Guiyi lowered her head. “Does Marquis have something to say?” Nangong Mingchen’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he, for the first time, studied her earnestly. This woman, praised by many, was gentle and respectful, with a beauty beyond compare. Her eyes were as clear as spring rain, but...

“The two hand-copied sutras Your Highness gave me—I have yet to thank you.” His tone was cold, not at all the warmth of gratitude, but Xu Guiyi saw through him and said nothing.

He continued, “Once, when I served His Majesty in the study, he praised the Crown Princess’s calligraphy, saying you had inherited the Xu family’s true style, reminiscent of Grand Preceptor Xu’s spirit.” The intent in his gaze was chilling.

Xu Guiyi understood. She lowered her head, pondering for a moment, then looked up with a gentle, cautious smile. “The two sutras I gave you were written in my youth, the handwriting somewhat crude—Marquis must have been amused. If you don’t mind, for your next birthday, I can copy another for you.”

Nangong Mingchen laughed inwardly, but his face remained calm, betraying nothing. He stepped forward, pausing at her side, and said quietly, “I wouldn’t dare trouble Your Highness. Sutras... I only want those from Zhenqing Temple.”

Xu Guiyi’s complexion turned pale, her gaze flickering. “You’ve been to Zhenqing Temple?” So he knew.

Nangong Mingchen’s brow arched coldly, all trace of a smile gone. “My poor Qianqian was not as fortunate as you, Crown Princess, to have her calligraphy taught stroke by stroke by her father.” The words, light as they were, stabbed into Xu Guiyi’s heart like needles, draining the color from her face, leaving her mortified and unsteady.

How much had he discovered?

Catching her distress, Nangong Mingchen reclaimed his customary smile. “Still, I’m grateful you brought me those two sutras. I owe you a favor, which I will repay someday.”

Xu Guiyi replied bitterly, “I ask for no repayment. Qianqian was my sister—whatever I could do for her, I did willingly.” Both the Xu family and the Pei family had wronged Qianqian. In life, they never gave her the honor she deserved; in death, they failed to grant her due dignity.

This was what Nangong Mingchen hated most. He curved his lips in a distant, elusive smile. “Rest assured, Crown Princess. Only I in the Nangong family know of this. It is a secret between me and Qianqian—no one else will ever learn of it.” With that, he departed without a backward glance.

Xu Guiyi stood frozen where she was, unmoving. The entire garden was alive with spring, yet she found it hard to breathe.