Chapter 43

Tao Chuyi’s one unchanging hobby was eating. She wanted to eat whatever she saw, and even the color on someone else’s lips made her want to take a bite.

The color of a tangerine, but even a bit redder.

Tangerine!

She chomped down with an “ahwoo,” without using much force—just nibbling a few times with her teeth and leaving faint tooth marks on the other’s lips.

“Sister and Chuyi consummated our marriage!”

Tao Chuyi bounced up and spun in place twice. Now, let’s see who would dare call her silly anymore. She could do grown-up things too.

Nangong Yunshang was stunned for a long while before she raised her hand to touch her own lips and let out a breath of relief. She’d thought this girl actually knew how to consummate a marriage. It turned out to just be a bite.

“Happy now? Go to sleep.”

Tao Chuyi hopped back onto the couch and wrapped around Nangong Yunshang like an octopus, pinning her in place so she couldn’t move.

“Get down.”

No matter what Nangong Yunshang said, Tao Chuyi refused to let go. In the past, she never would have dared to be so bold, but as Nangong Yunshang grew more indulgent with her, her courage had fattened up. This must have been what they called taking advantage of favor to act spoiled.

By now, the garden was bursting with spring colors, and the peach blossoms in the back courtyard were in full bloom, blanketing the world in pink.

This had become Tao Chuyi’s favorite place to play. She came every day, bringing Fifteen along to chat with the peach trees. One person, one dog, one tree—who knew what any of them were saying—but she chatted away with great relish.

As the weather gradually warmed, the heavy clothes became unbearable. The seamstresses in the Princess Mansion worked day and night to make new outfits for the princess and her prince consort.

Nangong Yunshang had never forgotten that Lantern Festival night under the flower lanterns, when a girl in purple robes had seemed so ethereal and otherworldly. She specially instructed them to make a set of purple robes for Tao Chuyi, saying that Chuyi looked good in purple.

And so, dressed in wide-sleeved purple robes the color of hibiscus, Tao Chuyi dashed through the Peach Blossom Grove. The high ponytail tied up with a jade coronet swept away falling petals whenever she looked back. Her boots—black-soled with purple-gold edging—kicked up the petals on the ground as she ran, until she was practically buried in them.

White-soled boots would actually match purple better, but given Tao Chuyi’s boundless energy, they would be filthy by midday. Black was the practical choice.

“The prince consort’s energy hasn’t diminished a bit.”

Yinghong leaned against a stone pillar to watch. “The princess has a good eye. The prince consort suits purple perfectly.”

The purple made Tao Chuyi look even fairer, fully living up to her reputation as a pretty face.

Nangong Yunshang sat in the pavilion sipping tea. The sound of laughter from not far away lifted her spirits.

At last, the Princess Mansion was no longer shrouded in gloom.

Tao Chuyi played until she was thoroughly satisfied, then snapped off a peach branch to tease Fifteen and make it jump for it. But she held it too high, and Fifteen couldn’t reach.

“Fifteen is so dumb. You’re so short.”

“Woof!”

Nangong Yunshang beckoned to her, and both Chuyi and Fifteen bounded toward the pavilion. Tao Chuyi, with her longer legs, reached the gazebo first and claimed Nangong Yunshang’s lap, shoving Fifteen into Yinghong’s arms.

“You’re not a child anymore. Why do you still want to be picked up?”

Nangong Yunshang nearly toppled backward from the force of her charge. With Chuyi all grown like this and still insisting on burrowing into her arms, it was hard for her to bear.

Tao Chuyi was utterly oblivious, convinced she was still small and perfectly sized to fit in her sister’s embrace.

“Chuyi is all grown up! I’m five years old now.”

Nangong Yunshang patted her back helplessly. “A few days ago, you said you were an adult. Today you’re five again?”

Tao Chuyi pondered this inwardly. Her sister was right—she was already an adult.

She quickly scrambled out of Nangong Yunshang’s lap and sat up straight.

“Don’t worry, Sister. I’ll take good care of you. Father says that even one day as husband and wife means a hundred days of kindness. We’ve already consumm…”

Before she could finish, Nangong Yunshang swiftly covered her mouth to stop her wild chatter.

“I told you, you’re not allowed to talk about it.”

Tao Chuyi belatedly understood and nodded frantically, blinking hard to show her determination not to say a word. Only then did she regain her freedom to breathe.

The first rain after the weather turned warm came with thunder crashing through the night sky, disturbing sleepers all across the Capital City.

Tao Chuyi clutched her little quilt tightly. Every thunderclap made her shudder, until soon she was crying.

“Sister!”

Nangong Yunshang wasn’t asleep either. Hearing the noise, she propped herself up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sister, outside… it’s scary.”

Nangong Yunshang sighed. “Come here, then.”

With permission granted, Tao Chuyi flew across in an instant and stopped crying. She lay on the inner side of the bed, cradled by Nangong Yunshang and soothed. She clutched her sleeve tightly, reduced to a pitiful, helpless state.

“Sister, is the Old Monster coming to get me?”

Nangong Yunshang pinched the tip of her nose and chuckled. “No. Sister’s here—the Old Monster wouldn’t dare.”

Tao Chuyi nodded. Her sister was probably fiercer than the Old Monster.

She nestled into the embrace to sleep, holding Nangong Yunshang’s hand to have her pat her to sleep. Nangong Yunshang had no choice but to comply.

But Tao Chuyi still couldn’t drift off. Her eyes stayed wide open.

“Sister, tell me a story?”

“Alright. I’ll tell you the story of a little princess.”

Nangong Yunshang spoke in the gentlest voice, her words flowing softly.

Nineteen years ago, the emperor’s favored consort gave birth to a princess, but died in the process. The emperor was displeased and ignored the princess entirely, letting her fend for herself.

Later, a Southern Frontier Imperial Physician joined the emperor’s side, and the emperor trusted him deeply. The imperial physician claimed the princess was an ill omen, so they bound her to a beam and performed rituals for three days and nights to exorcise the misfortune. Afterward, the princess fell gravely ill and lay bedridden for a full month, but the emperor never inquired.

Then, during a sacrificial rite with the emperor, assassins attacked. Without hesitation, the emperor shoved the princess forward to block the sword. Whether by fate or the assassin’s error, she survived.

Tao Chuyi blinked and looked at Nangong Yunshang. “And then the princess lived happily ever after?”

Nangong Yunshang gently stroked the side of her face, speaking as if of some unrelated matter, her smile unwavering.

“The emperor felt he couldn’t justify it to the outside world, so he granted her a mansion to live outside the palace and showered her with gold, silver, and jewels, proclaiming his vast imperial grace to all under heaven. The princess gained her own life and met people who cared for her. That counts as a happy life, I suppose.”

Hearing the happy ending, Tao Chuyi finally drifted into contented slumber, unaware that Nangong Yunshang held her through half the night without closing her own eyes.

In her dream, Tao Chuyi saw many people locked in a pitch-black place. Someone wielded a whip to drive them, and those released suddenly turned into blue-faced, fanged monsters.

“Ah!”

Tao Chuyi shot upright, gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat.

“What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

Nangong Yunshang quickly felt her forehead—no fever—then patted her back to soothe her.

Tao Chuyi couldn’t clearly describe the dream, only that there were monsters. Even at breakfast, she was still gesturing wildly.

Nangong Yunshang stroked her head. “It was just a dream, not real. Don’t be scared. Eat quickly before it gets cold.”

Just as Tao Chuyi reached for her chopsticks, a guard from the Princess Mansion hurried up to report that something had happened in the Capital City.

“What is it? Shouldn’t the Forbidden Army handle it?”

Nangong Yunshang remained unconcerned, eating leisurely.

The guard said urgently, “Monsters have appeared in the Capital City. They say it has six eyes and eight legs. The monster eats people, and anyone bitten by it turns into a monster too.”

Tao Chuyi immediately dropped her chopsticks and darted behind her chair. “Monsters! There are monsters!”

Nangong Yunshang froze too. Monsters appearing in broad daylight?

Though the Forbidden Army handled the immediate response, investigating the truth ultimately fell to the Dali Temple, whose jurisdiction Nangong Yunshang couldn’t escape.

No sooner had the carriage stopped in front of the Dali Temple Yamen than Tao Chuyi leaped down and charged inside.

“Father!”

Tao Siqing was conferring with others. Hearing her voice, he rose at once to greet her.

“Ah, Chuyi, my son. Why did you come alone?”

Tao Chuyi pointed backward. “The Princess Highness is here too!”

Only then did the others look outside and see Nangong Yunshang approaching amid her retinue.

“Greetings, Your Highness!”

Nangong Yunshang stepped over the threshold, pulling Tao Chuyi to her side as she did.

“At ease.”

The two sat in the grand chairs. One exuded natural authority without anger; the other radiated pure, innocent foolishness. They made an odd pair.

Tao Siqing presented the results of the past two days’ investigation. Four people had gone missing in the Capital City—not necessarily all taken by monsters. Three witnesses had seen the creature’s appearance, and an artist had sketched it from their descriptions.

Tao Chuyi craned her neck to peer at the drawing and cried out in shock. “That’s it—the monster!”

The sketch depicted a figure with a human body shape but the blue face and fangs of a demon, vertical slit pupils, a gaping maw, and—shockingly—a large eye in its chest.

Nangong Yunshang stared at the portrait. Did such a monster truly exist in the world? And yet, how could three unrelated people have seen the same thing?

“Sister! The dream—the monster!”

Tao Chuyi tugged urgently at her arm, demanding attention.

Nangong Yunshang understood. “You mean the monster from your dream looks just like this drawing?”

Tao Chuyi nodded. “Lots of them.”

In her dream, crowds of monsters had been locked away. They obeyed orders, biting whomever they caught, assimilating everywhere they went.

Nangong Yunshang turned to Tao Siqing. “They all saw the monsters at night?”

“Precisely, after the third watch.”

Tao Siqing reviewed the three witnesses’ statements. “This official sent patrols, specifically during the third watch.”

At that moment, a guard rushed in to report.

“Bad news, my lord. Of the seven men we sent out on patrol last night, only four came back. The other three have vanished without a trace.”

The three Dali Temple guards had disappeared into thin air, without leaving behind so much as a drop of blood. Now the common folk were gripped by panic, and even the Dali Temple itself was shrouded in gloom.

On the way back, Nangong Yunshang repeatedly urged Tao Chuyi not to wander around recklessly and to stay put in the mansion—especially at night.

“Sister, don’t worry. Chuyi is very obedient,” Tao Chuyi said, patting their own shoulder. “I absolutely won’t run off anywhere.”

Yet that very night, Tao Chuyi spotted a shadow darting back and forth across the mansion grounds. Glancing back, Tao Chuyi saw that Nangong Yunshang was fast asleep.

Tao Chuyi decided to slip outside and see if the monster was still around.

Tao Chuyi tiptoed out of the bedroom. Far off, the shadow vaulted over the compound wall, and Tao Chuyi quickly followed suit, scrambling over with hands and feet.