In her previous life, such things might have been hard to understand. Since everyone remembered the old ties, why pretend to be strangers? But now she understood: excessive private ties could lead to accusations of forming cliques for selfish gain. Better to avoid suspicion. She added, “Actually, Uncle Yuan is upright and worth befriending, but as a close minister of the Emperor, too much association can lead to misunderstandings.”
“You understand, then,” Wei Lingci said, reaching out to pat her head and tapping her forehead. “Changqing, after entering the capital, think things through carefully in all matters. Your situation is different—don’t act on impulse.”
She understood all that. The Emperor was still alive, so no one dared kill her openly. She had to expose Xun Yiran’s framing of the Pingnan Prince’s Mansion before the Emperor died. But as a powerless little County Princess now, forget exposing it—she couldn’t even guarantee her own safety.
She nodded. “Changqing understands. In the Imperial Capital, I represent Father and the entire Pingnan Prince’s Mansion. I can’t lose face.”
At the mention of face, Wei Lingci stopped and looked at her righteous expression, laughing. “You’ve already lost all your face dressing as a boy. Now you can’t lose the entire Prince’s Mansion’s face too.”
Xun Changqing had thin skin and blushed deeply again. She thought the matter was over, but her master brought it up once more. She twisted her right hand around her left, fidgeting. “You’re teasing me again…”
But Wei Lingci continued, “Actually, you’ve only lost face in front of me. No one in the Imperial Capital knows about this, so you can still salvage some dignity.”
It sounded reasonable, and Xun Changqing had no retort. She turned to gaze at the garden scenery and spotted a maid approaching from afar—around twenty years old, with brisk steps, light-footed, and pretty features. She wore a bamboo-green skirt and curtsied to Wei Lingci with a smile upon nearing. “Miss, you’ve finally returned.”
Wei Lingci’s earlier smile faded, replaced by a hint of coldness. “Bi Zhu, I’ve come back to stay a few days. Is the courtyard prepared?”
“It was cleaned yesterday,” Bi Zhu nodded with a smile, her posture elegant. She then noticed the awkward Xun Changqing standing nearby and asked, “Where will this young master stay? Shall this servant prepare a guest room?”
“No need for a guest room. Arrange it next to mine.”
Men and women shouldn’t share the same courtyard rashly—living under one roof wasn’t appropriate. Bi Zhu hesitated. “In your courtyard? It’s not suitable for a man and woman. If Madam finds out, she’ll say this servant didn’t do her job properly.”
The earlier words echoed in her ears again. Xun Changqing shot a glare at the tactless Bi Zhu and said somewhat sulkily, “I’ll stay in a guest room. Take me there.”
But Bi Zhu replied, “Young master, if you go now, the room might not be ready. Allow this servant to have it prepared, and we’ll fetch you once it’s done.”
Xun Changqing’s face had already darkened—this maid talked too much. As she opened her mouth to speak, Wei Lingci took her hand to soothe her. “Changqing, don’t make a fuss. It’s just a few days. The guest rooms are simple; you might not be comfortable.”
Bi Zhu felt her mind short-circuiting. Her miss usually avoided contact with others, yet here she was holding a strange youth’s wrist. Could it be that the two were…
Xun Changqing looked up at her, words warm as sunshine stirring faint rosy clouds. Without a word from her, Wei Lingci instructed Bi Zhu, “Go find some girls’ clothes in her size—remember, they must be new.”
Bi Zhu had served in the Wei residence for over a decade to become Wei Xiao’s personal maid, so she was naturally sharp. Looking again at Xun Changqing’s features—bright eyes, white teeth, brows like a painting—which young gentleman had such flawless, jade-like skin? She had simply been misled by the boy’s robes into assuming it was an underage lad.
Of course. When had her miss ever held a man’s hand? Not even a woman’s…
Upon returning to Wei Lingci’s small courtyard, people came out to greet them. Two maids looked somewhat similar, dressed alike, but one smiled with dimples, the other had a stern face like a door god. They seemed like sisters, but their resemblance was uncanny, almost as if carved from the same mold. Could they be twins?
She smiled. “Are you two sisters twins? You look so alike. Can you tell them apart usually?”
“We can. Outsiders might not distinguish us at first glance, but once familiar, it’s easy. Everyone in the mansion can tell us apart. If Young Master can’t now, you will by evening.”
Red lips, white teeth—her words could dizzy anyone. Wei Lingci smiled faintly, poured a cup of water, and handed it to Xun Changqing with a gentle expression. “What’s so surprising? Your two elder brothers are twins too. Haven’t you seen them?”
She took a shallow sip and shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I heard Father came back when I was born, but my brothers didn’t. I haven’t even seen Father these years—how could I know what my brothers look like?”
In her previous life, she hadn’t seen them either. The Pingnan Prince’s Mansion’s two elder brothers had been taken away by Father, leaving only her and her mother consort in the Imperial Capital. The treatment differed, no wonder they didn’t come to her aid in her previous life’s crisis. Father-daughter bonds without emotion were common in imperial families.
A flicker of sorrow passed unwittingly through her eyes, which Wei Lingci noticed at once. Without a change in expression, she continued, “These two are my maids, named Xian Yun and Xian Yu.” She pointed to the one who had spoken. “This is the younger sister, Xian Yu; the other is Xian Yun.”
The younger sister liked to smile, bright as spring sun, while the elder had an icy demeanor, cold as winter snow.
After the two retreated, Wei Lingci looked at the somewhat dejected Xun Changqing, her brows slightly furrowed. She said slowly, “Changqing, actually, your father does care about you in his heart. But with the dilemmas of family and state, sometimes ignoring you is his helplessness.”
In her previous life, she had hated Xun Yi even more than Xun Changqing did. During the two armies’ clash, Xun Yiran used Xun Changqing to threaten Xun Yi, but he remained unmoved, still leading his troops south relentlessly, winning battle after battle until reaching the Imperial Capital.
Only when he learned Xun Changqing had truly died did the iron-willed man show grief. Perhaps his choice was right: one death in exchange for Great Qi’s peace was worth it in anyone’s eyes.
Xun Changqing lifted her gaze, her eyes nearly wild with shock. “Master, how do you know Father cares about me?”
These were things even she, reborn once, didn’t know. How did Wei Lingci know? Had she been in contact with Father? But risking so much for her sake wasn’t worth it. In her previous life, after she was captured, Father hadn’t intervened. These were memories from her last life.
Why would Wei Lingci mention this?
