After a slight hesitation, Liu Yun finally explained. “Huang Dequan is the Director of the Inner Servants Bureau. He’s in charge of the palace’s carriages and transportation. In the past, when the Central Palace had no mistress, his position as Director was nominal. But now, during the grand selection, this ‘Lord’ who has some connection to the Central Palace has been taking bribes left and right without anyone knowing!”
Liu Yun’s gaze followed the wind-lifted carriage curtain, looking toward the warm, red lantern light at the alley entrance. “Taking bribes, forming factions, disrupting governance. Half the disaster of the Rebellion of Princes Ning and Rong was caused by eunuchs meddling in politics! This Ten Thousand Flowers Pavilion is dazzling, a mixed bag of dragons and snakes. But who’s to say that the person he finally meets is a beauty or a powerful official?”
Shen Yuezhuang asked again. “What if he meets a beauty? What if he meets an official?”
Liu Yun’s face was expressionless. “If he meets a beauty, kill him. If he meets an official, execute him!”
Liu Yun said this lightly, but it was terrifying. Shen Yuezhuang touched her neck, startled. “Just for meeting a beauty, is it really necessary to kill him?”
A deep, dark gloom settled in Liu Yun’s eyes as she looked heavily at Shen Yuezhuang. Her lips moved as if to speak, but after a long hesitation, she only let out a heavy breath. Her brow showed a trace of impatience, and she said vaguely, “You’ll understand later.”
But no sooner had she spoken than she immediately changed her mind. “No, it’s better if you never understand in this lifetime.”
Shen Yuezhuang was confused by her, but soon caught on.
“Oh~”
Shen Yuezhuang lowered her voice, leaning close to Liu Yun’s ear. “Eunuchs can’t perform. Are you sure he’s here to meet an official?”
The warm breath brushed her ear. The fingers Liu Yun had resting on her knees curled.
Shen Yuezhuang’s eyes, so close, were as bright as stars. They held the simplicity and purity of twenty years of privileged living, a cleanliness and brightness that had been well protected.
Every time Liu Yun met such eyes, she felt she would drown in their dazzling light.
Her breathing was tight. Amidst the chaos, she couldn’t hide the longing and darkness in her heart—she wanted to possess such light, and she couldn’t help but want to pull that light down into her own dark silence!
But in the beginning, she had only wanted to use this light to illuminate her own path forward!
When did the thought of using Shen Yuezhuang merely as a stepping stone begin to fade?
Probably around the time the Old Marquis died, when Shen Yuezhuang fainted from kneeling in the mourning hall.
Before Shen Yuezhuang fainted, Liu Yun had repeatedly urged her to go rest. But Shen Yuezhuang had refused with an even more uncompromising stubbornness.
Liu Yun felt her authority was being challenged. She thought Shen Yuezhuang was ungrateful. She thought Shen Yuezhuang was utterly stupid!
The person was already gone. What was the use of kneeling like that, except to make herself suffer and indulge in self-pity?
You had to move on. But Liu Yun arrogantly thought Shen Yuezhuang didn’t understand, and clashed with her over it, each time more fiercely.
Finally, Shen Yuezhuang fainted in the mourning hall. When she woke up that night, her first words were that she didn’t want to see Liu Yun.
Even now, thinking about those words made Liu Yun’s heart feel like there was a draft cutting through it.
At that time, Liu Yun had just stood there blankly, half her heart filled with shame and anger, the other half with grievance.
She was ashamed that Shen Yuezhuang had made her lose face in front of all the servants. She was even more aggrieved that she had done it for Shen Yuezhuang’s own good, yet she had to suffer such slander.
Liu Yun numbly felt the cold creeping through her limbs. It felt like she had lost something, but it was ridiculous—she had never possessed anything to begin with, so how could she lose it?
In the end, an exasperated Liu Yun had forced her way out of the main room. But before she could leave, the Seventeenth Princess’s procession had already arrived in the courtyard.
The palace gates were locked at night. Though the Seventeenth Princess was favored, she had never used her power and privilege to try and break the rules; she was always careful and prudent. But upon hearing that Shen Yuezhuang had fainted, she had rushed over with the imperial physician that very night.
It was the first and only time Liu Yun had ever seen the Seventeenth Princess.
She really was incredibly gentle and quiet. After the imperial physician examined Shen Yuezhuang, only the Seventeenth Princess and Shen Yuezhuang remained in the room.
The Seventeenth Princess’s personal maid and Liu Yun, Shen Yuezhuang’s personal servant, stood in the corridor.
Inside, the Seventeenth Princess held Shen Yuezhuang, soothing her gently. The Seventeenth Princess’s mother was from Yongzhou, so she imitated her mother and sang a Yongzhou folk tune for Shen Yuezhuang.
Unlike Liu Yun’s forceful, commanding orders, the Seventeenth Princess coaxed Shen Yuezhuang to drink her medicine with her own special, gentle tone.
She brought Shen Yuezhuang her favorite milk candy, and the pearl hairpin she had admired before.
Gradually, Liu Yun heard the sound of Shen Yuezhuang’s muffled sobbing from inside the room.
The Seventeenth Princess’s maid stepped further away, but Liu Yun remained rooted to the spot, letting the moonlight shine down on her own dazed, helpless expression.
She thought blankly, When did that pampered young lady, Shen Yuezhuang, stop crying in front of her?
She had assumed it was because Shen Yuezhuang had grown up. She had assumed Shen Yuezhuang had become strong. She had assumed…
The wind and snow howled in the courtyard. Shen Yuezhuang’s cries went from muffled to unrestrained, then to hoarse sobbing, and finally to hiccups.
The maid stepped forward and said it was time for the Princess to return to the palace, asking her to go in and urge them.
Liu Yun went in. And then she saw the Seventeenth Princess sitting on the low couch by the window, with Shen Yuezhuang, now asleep, lying across her knees.
Shen Yuezhuang had cried herself out. She was curled into a ball, her head pillowed on the Princess’s lap.
When Liu Yun entered, the Seventeenth Princess recognized her immediately.
Using one hand to support Shen Yuezhuang’s face, the Seventeenth Princess patted her back gently with the other and said to Liu Yun, “You must be Liu Yun. Little Walnut speaks of you often.”
The words sounded oddly like a judgment. Liu Yun, usually so articulate and unflappable with these nobles, for once pressed her lips together and said nothing.
A favored princess was, of course, a much better springboard than a daughter of the Marquis of Yongding who didn’t follow the rules and was utterly lawless! But Liu Yun couldn’t help seeing this Princess as an enemy on contested ground.
But this enemy was extraordinarily generous. She handed the sleeping Shen Yuezhuang over to Liu Yun.
“She lost her mother when she was very young. And now the Old Marquis, who doted on her the most in the mansion, is gone, too. Her heart is filled with grief.”
Liu Yun took Shen Yuezhuang, her movements unaccustomed and stiff. Her mind was only on the fact that now her stepmother had a son. Shen Yuezhuang should not only be grieving, but worried about whether she could live comfortably in the future. Where did she have all this time to be sad?
She had always been disappointed in Shen Yuezhuang, feeling she was too soft, and she had always scorned the Seventeenth Princess for being born into the imperial family yet still so indecisive.
But what annoyed her even more was the perfect understanding these two seemed to share.
A strange, barely perceptible feeling began to sprout in the depths of her heart. It felt like she had stolen someone else’s seeds, planted them with great effort, and now the owner had come to claim the harvest.
Forcing a cold facade, she sent the Seventeenth Princess off. Then, looking at Shen Yuezhuang’s sleeping face, Liu Yun felt at a loss for the first time.
Unlike Liu Yun’s own aversion to being touched, Shen Yuezhuang in her childhood had been like a ball of dough. Not only was she fair and plump, but she also liked being squeezed and petted.
Shen Yuezhuang considered it an indulgence, but Liu Yun had always politely declined. So, the two had never had such… an intimate moment.
Holding Shen Yuezhuang at the head of the bed, Shen Yuezhuang’s forehead was pressed against her lower abdomen. One of Shen Yuezhuang’s hands was tightly intertwined with her own.
Liu Yun felt awkward. She also felt strange. But she didn’t feel the disgust she had anticipated. The image of the Seventeenth Princess holding Shen Yuezhuang flashed through her mind again.
She refused to have anything to do with the Seventeenth Princess, yet she couldn’t help imitating her, holding Shen Yuezhuang and singing Jinzhou folk tunes all night.
She even tried to pat Shen Yuezhuang to sleep, but each time she raised her hand, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
As if doing so would admit that after all these years by Shen Yuezhuang’s side, an outsider understood her better.
As if doing so would admit that this territory had once belonged to the Seventeenth Princess.
As if doing so would admit that those elusive things truly existed…
At that time, Liu Yun felt that her precious, yet ethereal and laughable, face and dignity were the things that must never crumble!
But people always learn, slowly, amidst the pain of loss, that face is the truly ethereal and laughable thing.
Liu Yun’s throat tightened. She clenched her hand slightly.
The Shen Yuezhuang in front of her was too close, so close that Liu Yun felt the illusion of “plucking a star from the sky.” But perhaps Liu Yun’s distraction made Shen Yuezhuang unhappy. Those starry eyes blinked hard.
“Go on, what will I understand in the future?”
Liu Yun slowly let out a turbid breath. She didn’t push her away. Instead, she leaned sideways against the carriage behind her, raising an eyebrow and tilting her chin up slightly.
Her tone was that of a married woman speaking to an unmarried young lady—vague, mysterious, not fully explained, yet hinting at a secret. It was a tone that made you feel frustrated and curious, and also a little annoyed.
Her narrow, arched brows seemed to carry hooks, an obvious invitation to tease. Liu Yun spoke, half truth, half jest. “When you get married, you’ll naturally understand.”
Shen Yuezhuang unconsciously inched closer, also lowering her voice. “If I’m going to find out anyway, why can’t you tell me now?”
“You want to know?”
Shen Yuezhuang nodded.
By this point, she had actually lost track of exactly what “knowing” Liu Yun was talking about. But that didn’t stop her from being thoroughly consumed by curiosity.
Seeing Liu Yun beckon to her, she dutifully leaned in. But just before Liu Yun could speak, a sound of wind erupting and clothes rustling came from outside. The returning Secret Guard knocked on the carriage.
Three long taps and one short tap. He was reporting back.
Shen Yuezhuang was about to lean in and listen when Liu Yun reached up and covered her ears.
Shen Yuezhuang: “?????!”
Shen Yuezhuang had been leaning forward, so she couldn’t put much strength into breaking free. By the time she finally managed to pry Liu Yun’s hand away, all she heard was:
“Your Highness, how shall we proceed?”
