Chapter 2: Memory of a Chance Encounter

As she rose, she suppressed the emotions in her eyes. Her gaze swept over the low table holding the soup bowl, but her steps did not pause. Zhao Huairen walked straight out of the main room.

The oncoming chill cleared her thoughts thoroughly.

It was the transition between winter and spring.

The coldest days of the year.

The hair at her temples was lifted by the night wind. She reached back to close the door behind her, but as she turned, she was drawn to the cold moon reflected in a puddle.

The west wind scattered the thin clouds, leaving the full moon in the sky, luminous yet desolate. Moonlight filtered through the clouds onto the damp ground, casting streaks of silent white light.

She vaguely remembered that in her childhood, during this season after the New Year, the family of four would always gather together.

But now…

Memories of past liveliness flashed through her mind.

Her pale lips pressed together unconsciously, and her long lashes trembled lightly. Collecting her thoughts, Zhao Huairen lifted her head—only to find Zhuyu standing outside the corridor.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait in the side room?”

Zhuyu caught the hint of displeasure in her tone and hurriedly made a few hand gestures, then pulled Zhichun forward.

“In response to the Heir Apparent, this servant and Sister Zhuyu just rushed over from the side room. We weren’t waiting under the corridor the whole time,” Zhichun explained hurriedly.

“Really?” Zhao Huairen looked at her.

Zhuyu nodded gently and stepped forward slowly, offering the hand warmer freshly filled with new charcoal. Concern nearly solidified in her eyes.

The Heir Apparent’s monthly matters hadn’t fully passed, yet she had knelt in the icy snow all night. She looked as if she couldn’t rest for even a moment before heading to the palace for the morning court assembly.

Her fingertips brushed Zhuyu’s hand, feeling the warmth. Only then did Zhao Huairen take the hand warmer. “Mm, let’s return to Linzhu Courtyard.”

Without looking at them again, Zhao Huairen walked ahead alone.

Zhichun took in all the small interactions between them. Staring at the back of Zhuyu’s hand, she lowered her voice, her tone tinged with sourness. “Sister, the Heir Apparent is so good to you.”

Zhuyu placed her hand over the spot Zhichun had touched, smiling and nodding. Though she couldn’t speak, the joy on her face was evident enough.

The Heir Apparent was just like that.

Gentle and considerate—the best person Zhuyu had ever known.

Gazing at Zhao Huairen’s back, Zhichun deliberately slowed her steps and muttered with puffed cheeks, “So many noble ladies in the capital are smitten with the Heir Apparent. Since the Heir Apparent is unwilling, why does Madam insist on shoving that female general who crawled out of a pile of corpses onto—”

Hearing this, the joy on Zhuyu’s face froze instantly. She wanted to stop Zhichun’s reckless words, but Zhao Huairen, walking ahead, had already stopped.

“A pile of corpses? Do you know who she is?” Her voice was as clear and crisp as ever, like spring water, but her phoenix eyes held the scrutiny unique to those in power.

The Heir Apparent rarely spoke to the servants of Linzhu Courtyard in such a tone. Realizing her mistake, Zhichun’s heart leaped to her throat. She shrank her neck and admitted her fault carefully. “Heir Apparent, this servant spoke out of turn.”

Seeing Zhichun plead softly, Zhao Huairen neither brushed it off lightly nor scolded her harshly.

The thin clouds drifted in the sky.

The moonlight waxed and waned.

The corridor remained utterly silent.

With no response from Zhao Huairen, Zhichun, her head bowed as low as possible, clutched her sleeves in fear and regret. “Heir Apparent, this servant knows her mistake. This servant will never…”

She didn’t dare peek at Zhao Huairen’s expression, sensing only that her gaze seemed to linger on her. After much thought, Zhichun dropped to her knees with a thud in the corridor.

“Heir Apparent, this servant knows her mistake.”

It was her arrogance from being favored, forgetting her place. As the elder sister who had died saving the young miss, she received extra favor from the Heir Apparent… and now she had let it go to her head.

Thud, thud thud!

Her kowtows were sincere. After just a few, her forehead was already red and swollen. As she kowtowed, she begged for forgiveness. “This servant knows her mistake. Please forgive this servant, Heir Apparent.”

A faint sigh was scattered by the night wind. The hem of her robe, embroidered with brocade clouds, rippled slightly. Glancing at Zhuyu, Zhao Huairen turned and headed toward Linzhu Courtyard.

Zhao Huairen had already walked far away, but Zhichun remained kneeling foolishly, not daring to relax.

Knowing Zhichun was still scared from her slip of the tongue, Zhuyu shook her head helplessly and made a few simple hand gestures, then extended a helping hand.

“Really? The Heir Apparent isn’t angry anymore?” Zhichun grasped Zhuyu’s hand, still shaken. “Sister, though I misspoke for a moment, in my heart…”

Zhuyu frowned to silence her and pulled her up from the ground with a slight force on her wrist.

“Sister Zhuyu, you understand the Heir Apparent’s mind best. Is he really not angry anymore?” Still uneasy from the earlier atmosphere, Zhichun repeated it the whole way:

“I don’t want to go anywhere but Linzhu Courtyard. Sister, how can I…”

After listening to Zhichun babble on, her brows furrowed as if to crush a fly, Zhuyu closed her eyes: Tch, why am I mute and not deaf?

A heavy weight pressed on her heart as Zhichun followed closely behind Zhuyu, head down, unaware they had already returned to Linzhu Courtyard.

“Sister, what if I—ow!”

She bumped headfirst into Zhuyu’s back, old wound adding to new. Zhichun clutched her forehead in pain.

Hearing the pained cry from behind, Zhuyu turned with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Her fingers lightly touched the swollen spot on Zhichun’s forehead, her eyes questioning.

“It doesn’t hurt, not at all.” Feeling embarrassed, Zhichun cleared her throat and gently pulled Zhuyu’s hand down.

Knowing the girl was thin-skinned, Zhuyu asked no more and simply nodded.

At the third quarter of the yin hour, a faint white appeared on the horizon.

Linzhu Courtyard was brightly lit. After Zhao Huairen returned, the female servants busied themselves with their duties.

Zhuyu led Zhichun into the side room, retrieved ointment from a drawer, handed it to her, and held up the copper mirror on the table.

Seeing Zhuyu like this reminded Zhichun of memories of her late sister. Clutching the small porcelain bottle, her voice choked. “Sister Zhuyu, thank you…”

“Sister Zhichun, the Heir Apparent calls you to serve in the main room!” Aqin, with her double buns, bounced into the room. “Eh? Why is Sister Zhuyu here too?”

What did the Heir Apparent want with her?

Was he going to kick her out of Linzhu Courtyard!?

“Got it, I’ll go to the Heir Apparent right away.” Her briefly relaxed nerves tensed again. Zhichun set the bottle on the table corner, hastily wiped her tears, and hurried to the main room.

–

Dawn’s light filtered in, the candle flames flickering dimly in the room.

“Why are you standing foolishly at the door, Sister? Come in.” Holding the golden inlaid flower sash, Aqin tilted her head.

“Let’s go together.”

Zhichun bit the soft flesh inside her cheek, took a deep breath, and entered with the deep crimson official robe in hand. “This servant will help the Heir Apparent change.”

Long lashes cast two shadows under her eyes. The tall figure stood silently behind the carved pearwood screen, eyes fixed ahead. Zhao Huairen slowly raised her arms.

The habitual motion felt difficult now. Her fingertips trembled uncontrollably, and several times, the robe’s ties slipped from Zhichun’s fingers.

“Sister, let me do it!” Aqin volunteered from the side.

Zhao Huairen glanced at Aqin, then lowered her gaze to Zhichun. “Your hands are shaking like this—are you afraid of me?”

Her vision blurred, her body trembling like a sieve, but Zhichun refused to admit it. “In response to the Heir Apparent, this servant… this servant will be done soon.”

“Does it hurt?” Her gaze fell on the red mark on Zhichun’s forehead, complex emotions flashing in her eyes. Zhao Huairen’s voice was slightly cool. “Zhichun, General Yan is a general who guards the borders for Great Yong.”

“So, don’t say that again.”

Great!

The Heir Apparent wasn’t kicking her out.

Zhichun pressed her lips tightly, forcing back the tears, nodding as she adjusted Zhao Huairen’s official robe. “Yes, this servant will remember.”

“Sister Zhichun.” Aqin stepped forward.

Zhichun took the golden inlaid flower sash from Aqin, carefully fastening it around Zhao Huairen. “Heir Apparent, it’s almost time.”

“Mm.” Turning to leave the inner room, Zhao Huairen said softly, “Remember to apply the ointment Zhuyu gave you on time.”

Hearing this, Zhichun, who was tidying the clothes, looked up in surprise: Hm? How did the Heir Apparent know Zhuyu gave her ointment?

The deep crimson official robe made her skin appear even fairer, while the golden inlaid flower sash at her waist added a touch of majesty. After sitting, Zhao Huairen parted her thin lips. “Aqin, go summon breakfast.”

“Yes!” Aqin’s response was crisp.

Female servants in pink skirts entered in a line, carrying gold-threaded bird’s nest porridge, date paste cakes, honeydew yam crisps, and hundred-flower brew. Soon, the rosewood round table was filled with dishes.

Zhao Huairen disliked having too many people serve her during meals. After paying respects, the female servants withdrew as usual, leaving only Zhuyu.

“New intel from Zhaixiang Tower?” Zhao Huairen picked up the white jade teacup from the table. Though a question, her tone was certain.

Accustomed to the Heir Apparent’s foresight, Zhuyu pulled a palm-sized secret letter from her sleeve, bowed slightly, and presented it with both hands.

“The troops are marching and will arrive soon.”

Zhao Huairen glanced at it briefly and set the note on the table corner. She elegantly picked up a yam crisp and chewed it slowly.

With General Yan returning to the capital soon and the marriage already decreed, wouldn’t the Heir Apparent make preparations?

“What do you want to ask?” Zhao Huairen took the silk handkerchief Zhuyu offered and lightly dabbed her lips.

Was the Heir Apparent really going to marry Miss Yan? After marriage, how would her identity as a woman be concealed…

Her dark pupils flickered. Countless questions flashed through her mind. Zhuyu lowered her head, ultimately not voicing her curiosity and worry.

“Speaking of which, I’ve had a chance encounter with her.” Rising from the eight-legged round stool, Zhao Huairen continued, “Though, she probably doesn’t remember.”

A chance encounter with whom?

General Yan?

But aside from Yan Yue, the Yan family had long resided on the border. When had the Heir Apparent met General Yan?

By the time Zhuyu looked up again, Zhao Huairen had stepped out of the main room and stopped under the wisteria tree in the courtyard.

Gazing at the bare branches, a trace of nostalgia passed through her light brown pupils. Zhao Huairen murmured softly, “Spring is coming soon. By then… it will bloom beautifully again.”

Just like that year.