The mountain was quiet, the vegetation lush. In the distance, clouds and mist curled around the peaks.
Yan Zhi’an instinctively pulled Xunqi back, glanced at Shangguan Li, and said, “Let her walk on her own. Let her practice her formalism alone.”
As Xunqi was pulled away, she couldn’t help but glance back at Shangguan Li. Yan Zhi’an reminded her, “Watch your step.”
The two walked quickly and reached the summit in half an hour. A monk led them to light the Ever-Burning Lamp.
The monk asked, “What are the deceased’s name and birth date and hour?”
“I… I don’t know.” Xunqi was stunned by the question. She turned to her mother. “Do you need those to light a lamp?”
The monk smiled. “There are so many deceased. Without the birth date and name, how would we know who the lamp is for?”
Xunqi was dismayed, but Yan Zhi’an said, “Bring a brush. I’ll write the name.”
“What name?” Xunqi was curious.
Yan Zhi’an: “Madwoman. Since she chose to call herself Madwoman, we’ll respect that.” Xunqi didn’t know the Madwoman’s history, but the Right Prime Minister did. They were merely accompanying guests today. The one who truly needed to light the lamp was the Right Prime Minister. Xunqi didn’t know, but the Right Prime Minister did.
After perfunctorily lighting the lamp, they sat by the door for a while. Only then did Shangguan Li arrive, supported by her maidservant.
She walked over, and the monk asked the usual questions—name and birth date. The Right Prime Minister answered them all. The monk set down his brush, and soon, the Ever-Burning Lamp was lit.
In the swirling incense smoke, Shangguan Li stood tall, gazing at her elder sister’s lamp with a desolate expression.
“Time to go.” Yan Zhi’an called softly to Xunqi. “Let’s prepare a vegetarian meal and eat something.”
To her surprise, Xunqi refused. “I don’t want vegetarian food. I ate vegetarian every day before—I want meat.”
“That won’t do. You came today to light the lamp for the Madwoman; you should eat vegetarian for her sake.” Yan Zhi’an’s head ached. “Eat lotus leaf chicken at home tonight. I hear the lotus leaves have grown big.”
Xunqi followed her mother reluctantly, her grumbling reaching Shangguan Li’s ears. “As long as your heart is sincere, why torment your mouth and stomach?”
Hearing this, Shangguan Li smiled. These words sounded like something her elder sister would say. In those years, trapped by rules, she’d lived worse than a pig or dog. It was her elder sister who had helped her, always speaking words of treason.
She always said: “Why care about those rules? Just live your own life. Eat and drink without worry—what’s there to fret about? Do you have to work yourself to death from dawn to dusk, happy only after earning three coppers?”
“Little sister, you trust this world too much. Why trust it at all?”
“Don’t worry about so many people. Live for yourself, harm neither state nor world, be free. Why think so much?”
Shangguan Li closed her eyes, and tears fell. A sudden, sharp pain seized her heart. How could such a free-spirited person have called herself a madwoman?
How could she be a madwoman?
Shangguan Li held back, but her tears wouldn’t obey. She couldn’t help turning back to look at the Ever-Burning Lamp, tears streaming freely. Gone, gone—her elder sister was dead, driven to death by this world.
Another rest day came, and Xunqi was pushed into a carriage, not knowing where she was going.
When she got out, it was a small gate. She didn’t know where she was. Fortunately, Wushuang was with her, so she wasn’t afraid. She walked through the mansion into a study. Behind a desk sat a person—none other than our court’s Right Prime Minister, Shangguan Li.
She let out a soft “Eh?” and stepped forward to bow respectfully. The other said, “On every rest day, you may come. Whatever you want to learn, I’ll teach you. I suspect what you lack isn’t poetry or literature, so I’ll teach you other things. The same way I teach the Crown Prince, I’ll teach you.”
Hearing this, Xunqi asked without thinking, “Why are we doing this in secret?”
Shangguan Li replied, “Your mother and I aren’t on good terms. If others found out, it would breed trouble.”
“Okay.” Xunqi nodded obediently. These people were strange—they were powerful figures holding authority, yet they acted with extreme caution, even teaching her in secret.
How odd! How odd!
Xunqi sat down. There were no books on the table. She tilted her head to look, then looked at the Right Prime Minister. The desk was still empty. The Right Prime Minister asked her, “What have you studied before?”
“A bit of everything.” Xunqi responded.
Shangguan Li nodded. “Then let me tell you a story—about Emperor Ming and Emperor Hui.”
Oh? A story! Xunqi grew excited immediately. “Great, I’m listening!” What she was most curious about were the stories of Emperor Ming, Emperor Hui, and Her Majesty.
Shangguan Li began softly: “Emperor Ming was the elder, and Emperor Hui was his brother. After Emperor Ming was born, he was made Crown Prince, and a marriage was arranged with the Sima clan.”
Shangguan Li’s voice was gentle, her words clear. Xunqi listened with great excitement.
After a day passed, Wushuang led Xunqi back to the Left Prime Minister’s Residence.
This went on repeatedly until the Mid-Autumn Festival in August. At that time, a letter arrived from the Yan mansion—Seventeenth Miss had fled before her wedding and vanished.
The letter reached Yan Zhi’an’s hands, and she was furious. “How dare she run from her marriage?”
Xunqi was peeling an orange nearby. Hearing this, she broke out in a cold sweat for Seventeenth Aunt and quietly fed her mother a segment of orange, pleading on Seventeenth Aunt’s behalf. “Maybe there’s a reason. You know what the family is like, Mother.”
“The marriage was arranged by me.” Yan Zhi’an glared coldly. Xunqi immediately shrank back, cowardly and spineless—but there was a rebellious bone in her body, and she couldn’t help saying, “What you chose isn’t necessarily the best.”
Yan Zhi’an held her forehead. Xunqi said, “Mother, let me go to Jinling to handle it for you, alright?”
“You’re afraid I’ll hurt Shiqi if I handle it, aren’t you?” Yan Zhi’an saw through her little scheme. She and Shiqi were close in age and got along very well, so of course she’d side with Shiqi.
Xunqi was too nervous to speak. She crept forward like a loyal dog to massage her mother’s shoulders, very attentive. “I’m the Young Mistress too. I think I can handle this.”
“Is that so?” Yan Zhi’an sneered, gripping her slender wrist. “I think you want to go rescue someone.”
“Ah, I do want to rescue her. Give me the chance to be the hero.” Xunqi acted coquettish, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck and rubbing her cheek against her mother’s. Before she could even speak, Yan Zhi’an’s face flushed with heat. She hastily pushed away the clueless little thing. “Stop that.”
Xunqi stared in surprise at her now-empty hands. For a moment, she stood frozen, her face turning pale.
At that look, Yan Zhi’an realized she’d made a mistake—she shouldn’t have pushed her away. She reached out, pulled Xunqi close, and pressed her to her side, saying proactively, “I’m ticklish.”
“Oh, oh.” Xunqi nodded blankly, still shaken. When she’d been pushed away, her heart had trembled, and it made her very uncomfortable.
She was still dazed, clearly frightened. Yan Zhi’an took the initiative to hug her, patting her back. “Alright. I won’t hurt Shiqi. I’ll go cancel the engagement first. She ran away, so she clearly doesn’t want to marry.”
She had arranged for Shiqi to marry the eldest son of the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy. The Imperial Academy was the realm’s most prestigious institution, a gathering place for scholars, and the young man already had scholarly honors—he wouldn’t mistreat Shiqi. The family had agreed too. Who knew this would happen? For now, the priority was damage control—cancel the engagement first.
Yan Zhi’an’s head throbbed as she hurried to the home of the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy.
Meanwhile, Xunqi sat frozen in place, clutching her chest. In that instant, she’d felt a lingering dread, as if she’d lost something.
Why did she feel this way?
It was very uncomfortable.
She sat blankly for a long time, staring into the void, until Chen Qingrong came looking for her.
“Why are you here? Where’s your mother?” Chen Qingrong was puzzled. She turned to look for her, then looked back and realized Xunqi seemed dazed. She instinctively touched the girl’s face. “Did your mother scold you or punish you?”
Xunqi had been back for over half a year, and Chen Qingrong had come to accept that her daughter had a child from outside. She doted on the girl. But Yan Zhi’an was strict with Xunqi, especially regarding her studies, and Xunqi feared her. Chen Qingrong assumed she’d been punished again.
Xunqi lowered her hand. “I feel a bit unwell.”
Chen Qingrong was alarmed. “Where? Should I call a physician?”
“It’s nothing.” Xunqi took a deep breath and looked up to smile at Chen Qingrong. “Seventeenth Aunt ran away from her marriage. Mother said she’s gone to the Chancellor’s house to cancel the engagement.”
“Something this big?” Chen Qingrong frowned. “The family must have arranged the marriage without asking Seventeen. That Sixth… Ugh. Well, when Seventeen is caught, she’s in for a beating. No—I’ll send people to look for her.”
Yan Zhi’an was always away, and Chen Qingrong had only one daughter, who was rarely by her side. So she enjoyed getting close to the younger generation, and they often came to chat and laugh with her. Over time, she’d grown especially fond of the young ones, and she couldn’t stand to see their affairs go wrong.
“Why don’t you go back to Jinling?” Xunqi suggested.
The moment the words left her mouth, Chen Qingrong objected. “Do you think I’m your mother—a stabilizing pillar like Sun Wukong’s Ruyi Jingu Bang?”
Her going back would be the same as not going; no one would pay her any attention. Better for Xunqi to go. At least Xunqi was still a young miss of the Yan family, someone the clan would regard with caution.
After speaking, Xunqi couldn’t help but feel disdain for her. “Who did my mother inherit her personality from?”
“To be honest, I often wonder if I picked up the wrong baby.” Chen Qingrong sighed mournfully. “But I gave birth in the mansion, so there’s no way to mix things up.”
The two stared at each other. Xunqi stood up and left. This grandmother of hers went wherever there was excitement, but shrank back when it came to serious matters—the exact opposite of her mother’s nature.
Chen Qingrong felt embarrassed and pulled Xunqi back. “I don’t handle affairs—you do. You can send people to search. Your mother won’t, but you can.”
“Do I have people? My people take orders from my mother.” Xunqi retorted, then said with utter despair, “She’s your daughter, not my wife. How can I control her?”
“You have a point.” Chen Qingrong was convinced, her face overcome with worry. “I’m worried something will happen to Little Seventeen.”
Xunqi was at a loss too.
After waiting half a day, Yan Zhi’an returned to the mansion, her face icy. Xunqi was too scared to speak.
Chen Qingrong asked worriedly, “Did you cancel it?”
“The Chancellor refused.” Yan Zhi’an could barely contain her anger. She was normally someone who didn’t show emotion, but now her fury was visible—clearly this was a difficult matter.
Xunqi was puzzled. “Why won’t he cancel?” Marriage should be based on mutual consent. If the woman didn’t want it, the man’s family forcing it would only lead to unhappiness.
Yan Zhi’an held her forehead, which ached fiercely. Worried, Xunqi stepped forward. “Mother, does your head hurt?”
Hearing the girl’s worried voice, Yan Zhi’an’s anger grew instead of fading, until her chest ached.
The Chancellor had said: “Since Seventeenth Miss refuses to marry, and the Young Mistress is of similar age—why not swap in a new bride? What does the Left Prime Minister think?”
