Chapter One: Those People, Those Stories

In the months following Xiang Lian’s departure, Yue Wanqing fell gravely ill once again. The Left Prime Minister, unable to vent his anger at Prince Chun, resorted to veiled accusations whenever he encountered Feng Xiaoli. Feng Xiaoli knew his words were aimed at her, but out of respect for her friend’s father—Yue Wanqing’s father—she refrained from confronting him. It was best to avoid tearing apart the thin veil of civility.

Yue Wanqing, caught in the middle, endured much hardship. Feng Xiaoli understood how she felt, so she simply let the Prime Minister’s rants go in one ear and out the other, treating him like a mad lion roaring to the wind and paying him no mind. Don’t be deceived into thinking Yue Wanqing’s convalescence was easy; the Left Prime Minister visited frequently, chattering endlessly about Feng Xiaoli’s shortcomings. His conversations began and ended with her name, as if nothing else could be discussed between them.

Luo Yu, ever the loyal servant, knew full well what had happened that day: Feng Xiaoli had merely accompanied Yue Wanqing to the Farewell Pavilion, where a gust of wind caught them unawares and left them chilled. The blame, naturally, fell on Feng Xiaoli. Why? Because the foolish girl couldn’t even dress properly. Only afterward did Yue Wanqing realize she was inadequately clothed; Feng Xiaoli, flustered, had hastily thrown a coat over her and neglected to ensure she was warm enough. As a result, just as Yue Wanqing’s illness was improving, she suffered a relapse that night. Since then, the Left Prime Minister harbored a deep resentment for Feng Xiaoli.

Ah, Ali, fortune does not favor you. The Left Prime Minister was notorious for holding grudges.

Because of this incident, Feng Xiaoli was confined to her home for several months, though it was largely for appearances’ sake. Prince Chun was merely appeasing public opinion, not truly intent on restricting Feng Xiaoli’s movements, hoping to avoid renewed impeachment attempts against her. Her reputation was already tarnished enough, and as her father, he naturally wanted to protect his daughter.

Feng Xiaoli understood his intentions. In public, she behaved like a dutiful daughter, but in private, she freely expressed her moods and emotions. Jin Ning, attending her, was extra cautious. Yet in these months, Jin Ning sensed that Feng Xiaoli’s spirits were not truly high; though she seemed cheerful, a faint melancholy lingered in her eyes, an elusive sadness flickering beneath the surface.

The gentle breeze stirred, sunlight streamed, casting a flowing golden light across the handsome features of Yu Wenche.

Over these months, Yu Wenche often appeared before Feng Xiaoli, frequenting Prince Chun’s residence and fueling rumors about their relationship. Some said their bond was deep and hinted they might soon wed. Yet others countered that Feng Xiaoli was already betrothed to the Crown Prince, Yu Wenhao, and Yu Wenche, as his imperial brother, could never steal the future Crown Princess. Some sought to clarify matters between Feng Xiaoli and Yu Wenhao, while others disparaged them. Both paid little heed to these stories, sometimes listening for amusement and laughing heartily at the more absurd tales.

Suddenly, the focus of Huai Jing was once more fixed on the three of them.

The matter of Xiang Lian faded like dust from a past life, never to return. No one knew what truly transpired in the palace. Xiang Lian, accused of poisoning the Prince of Tianshang, was imprisoned and sent back to Tianshang. The day she left, the palace announced her sudden death, claiming the imperial physicians were powerless. Such a princess, gone in an instant—how ironic. Her funeral was hastily arranged, yet there remained traces of her final royal honors.

Such was the nature of the royal family.

Was palace news really sealed so tightly that nothing leaked out? The answer was no. A small number suspected something strange about Xiang Lian’s death, but dared only to think, not speak, for they valued their own lives. Thus, such rumors drifted like clouds.

“Ali, let me tell you, today I heard more talk about us in the marketplace!” Yu Wenche had barely returned from the city when he burst out laughing, recalling the gossip he had overheard.

Feng Xiaoli caught his infectious laughter and hurriedly asked, “Che, don’t just laugh—tell me, what did they say about us this time?”

“They said you, Ali, are shameless, coveting both the Crown Prince and me. They called you a fox spirit, a scourge upon the country, said you should be banished from Huai Jing and never allowed to return, and claimed your bad reputation would surely hinder the city’s fortune and prosperity!” With that, he doubled over, laughing even harder.

“Not bad, not bad—they finally came up with something fresh. I thought they’d repeat the same tired accusations, but lately I kept hearing that I ‘lack decency,’ and now at last they say I’m ‘shameless’!” Feng Xiaoli remarked, clearly amused.

—Ali, isn’t ‘lack of decency’ and ‘shameless’ pretty much the same thing?

Yu Wenche had returned to Huai Jing only after Xiang Lian’s departure. She remembered how hurried, travel-worn he was upon arrival. Yu Wenche never explained where he had been, and she never asked. Though they addressed each other as friends, everyone harbors secrets, and she respected his privacy, unwilling to dig into what he wished to keep hidden.

Perhaps Yu Wenche found Feng Xiaoli easy to be around, sensing she would never press him for answers, and so appeared before her more often.

In these months, aside from seeing the Emperor Qianqing, Empress Yuanmin, and Yu Wenhao, Yu Wenche only visited Feng Xiaoli.

When those slanderous rumors spread through the marketplace, Yu Wenhao simply ignored them. The two agreed that as long as they understood their relationship, there was no need to clarify it to others.

Really, what did the common folk matter to them?

Several times, Empress Yuanmin summoned Feng Xiaoli to the palace, sternly warning her to mind her status: as the future Crown Princess, she should abide by her own rules and not associate with her future brother-in-law. Feng Xiaoli responded with a cold laugh, saying this title was imposed upon her, not something she desired. Besides, she was still a free woman, not yet married to Yu Wenhao, and Yuanmin was not yet her mother-in-law—so what right did she have to interfere?

That single retort left Empress Yuanmin speechless. First, she was shocked by Feng Xiaoli’s arrogant tone; second, she hadn’t expected Feng Xiaoli to disregard her so thoroughly.

Ever since the incident with Xiang Lian, Feng Xiaoli harbored deep resentment toward Empress Yuanmin. When Xiang Lian suffered, Yuanmin remained aloof, making no effort to help.

Moreover, she suspected Yuanmin was the mastermind behind it all.

Ha! If you wish for my respect, try again in your next life!

Yu Wenhao vaguely sensed Feng Xiaoli disliked Empress Yuanmin, and so never mentioned her in Feng Xiaoli’s presence. Each day, the two seemed to have endless topics to discuss, chatting away without pause.

Yet what struck everyone as most odd was that Yu Wenhao had once said to Yu Wenche, “During these days, keep a close eye on Ali!”