Chapter 14

Si Yunqin had thought this kind of event would be very boring, but without so many formalities and constraints, it turned out to be not bad at all—quite fun, in fact. A morning passed by in playful chatter.

Just as they were about to have a meal, Consort Chen suddenly said to Si Yunqin, “Yunqin said you wanted to get to know Consort Yu, but I haven’t seen any movement.”

Si Yunqin smiled with some embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

“Seeing a beauty made Yunqin shy?” Consort Chen teased her.

Si Yunqin’s face flushed slightly. “It’s not that.”

“Yunqin has already gotten to know the other two sisters in Bright Palace, so it seems the person Yunqin seeks is indeed Consort Yu?” Consort Chen said with a beaming smile.

Si Yunqin nodded, feeling a little awkward. “It should be. How did you know I was looking for someone, Sister Consort Chen?”

“With all my years in the palace, that little scheme of yours,” Consort Chen said with a laugh, reaching out to pick up a pastry and feed it to her. “Just like this pastry—one look and I know if it’s good.”

Si Yunqin leaned back slightly, smiling dryly in embarrassment.

“How should I put it… It’s not that I’m shy meeting a beauty; it’s that when I meet someone I admire, I’m afraid of being too forward.” Si Yunqin genuinely thought the books Consort Yu wrote were excellent. If not for the fact that many of them described women loving women, Si Yunqin felt they deserved to be widely circulated in this world—to let people know that women need not be confined to their boudoirs, but could go out and see the vastness of heaven and earth.

Consort Chen was curious. “Oh? Since Yunqin doesn’t even know Consort Yu, why the admiration?”

Si Yunqin poured her a glass of wine. “That’s a long story.”

“Let me toast you, Sister. Thank you for your help today.”

Consort Chen clinked glasses with her. “No need to stand on ceremony.”

After finishing the glass of wine, Consort Chen suddenly spoke up: “I’ve heard that Sister Consort Yu is also a lover of books and immensely talented. Before the Empress entered the palace, her reputation was known throughout the land. I wonder if the Empress and Sister Consort Yu could enlighten us all?”

She sincerely wanted to help Si Yunqin, so she made this remark. Si Yunqin was grateful but also found it awkward.

Xi Fengyu thought the timing was right and lifted her gaze to look at Si Yunqin.

For some reason, Si Yunqin felt that Xi Fengyu’s look at her was different. How to put it? It was like suddenly meeting a long-lost relative—quite strange.

“Consort Chen flatters me. I dare not claim to be famous throughout the land. I wouldn’t want to spoil today’s flower appreciation,” Si Yunqin replied smoothly. Consort Chen had already gone this far for her; she couldn’t keep dodging.

“Then how about composing a poem on the theme of today’s flower viewing? Your subject will complete it together with the Empress,” Xi Fengyu offered. She usually didn’t like to go out, but today she had come out. Her words not only accepted the title of talented woman but also placed herself on the same level as the Empress. This was truly strange. The two consorts who lived in the same palace as her were even more puzzled—this was completely unlike her usual behavior.

No matter how good-tempered Si Yunqin usually was, she was still the Empress, the one who now managed the imperial harem.

“Very well,” Si Yunqin agreed.

Xi Fengyu wanted to recite a poem, but she suddenly choked on her words. Finally, she said awkwardly, “How about verse matching?”

Si Yunqin was a little puzzled, but she nodded in agreement.

“With spring breeze and pride, the horse’s hooves race,” Xi Fengyu recited.

As soon as she finished, Si Yunqin stared at her in shock, as if something was unbelievable.

She had thought of many possibilities, but never that this person would be her “hometown fellow.”

“In one day I see all the flowers of Chang’an,” Si Yunqin responded.

“The chaotic blossoms gradually dazzle the eyes.”

“But shallow grass can only just cover the horse’s hooves.”

“Gather the flowers when they bloom.”

“Don’t wait until there are no flowers to break the empty branch.”

They exchanged a few lines—not really matching verses, just reciting poems—but between them, they already understood each other’s identity.

Si Yunqin laughed. “All those years of nine-year compulsory education weren’t wasted. After all, I could still pick it up.”

Xi Fengyu took the opportunity to bow. “Forgive me for showing off before the Empress.”

Si Yunqin changed the subject, ending the verse match. She never expected such a wonderful surprise.

Then, the group went to have a meal together. Si Yunqin and Xi Fengyu were bound by their statuses, so they couldn’t say much in public.

After the meal, everyone dispersed. Si Yunqin returned to her bedchamber, still feeling dazed.

In her previous life, she had died from overwork—a sudden death at twenty-five. In a hazy state, she felt as if she had been reborn.

When her consciousness cleared a little, she confirmed that she had been reincarnated as a newborn. It wasn’t a soul possession or body snatching. Si Yunqin even had vague memories of being in the womb—chaotic and blurry, impossible to articulate, but she remembered.

So, in this life, she had always assumed she was simply born without drinking Meng Po’s Soup, retaining memories of her past life. But suddenly one day, she discovered that someone else in this world possessed the same memories.

Someone else had memories from a different time and space—how could that not be shocking?

Si Yunqin lay on a lounge chair, covering her face with a book. Usually at this hour she felt drowsy, but today she couldn’t sleep at all.

Memories buried deep in her heart suddenly surfaced. Closing her eyes, she recalled her past life in a rapid, fragmentary montage.

She wondered how her parents and younger sister from her past life were doing. Had her company compensated her family after she died?

Whether in her past life or this one, Si Yunqin loved her family deeply. But sometimes, life was unpredictable.

She let out a soft sigh, stretched, moved the book aside, and glanced at the sky. It was already dark.

The moon had just risen above the treetops. She had been lying here for so long.

She stood up, exhaled a breath of stale air. Si Yin heard the noise and came in to light the lamp.

“Your Majesty, why have you slept so long today?” Si Yin asked, a little worried.

“It’s nothing. I always get sleepy sometimes. Spring drowsiness, autumn fatigue, summer naps—nothing strange,” Si Yunqin said with a smile. “I’m hungry. Have some food prepared.”

She draped an outer robe over herself and walked out. She ate dinner as usual. Si Yin told her that the Young Emperor had come by but left after learning she was resting.

Si Yunqin acknowledged it. The Young Emperor was just bored and wanted to play with her.

After dinner, she rested for a while, then took a bath. Once she was ready, she dismissed everyone from the bedchamber, changed into lighter clothes, and slipped out through the window.

She walked all the way to Bright Palace. Many lights had already been extinguished there.

Si Yunqin used her lightness skill to land lightly on the palace wall. The layout of each palace was actually patterned.

The positions of the main hall and side halls were easy to find.

Si Yunqin sneaked to the outside of the main hall, evaded the palace maids, and arrived outside Xi Fengyu’s bedchamber.

A lamp was still lit inside, but there was no one keeping vigil, which made things convenient for Si Yunqin.

She knocked gently on the door. “Your Highness, are you asleep?”

After a moment, someone came to open the door. It was Xi Fengyu.

Seeing the person before her, Xi Fengyu was a little surprised. She quickly invited her in.

“I was planning to visit you tomorrow during the day. I didn’t expect the Empress to come first,” Xi Fengyu said with a smile.

She had been excited today too. Although she had guessed that Si Yunqin was also from another world like her, guessing and confirming were two different things.

Si Yunqin smiled. “How could I sleep?”

“No need to call me Empress. You’re older than me here, so I’ll call you Elder Sister. Just call me Yunqin. What should I call you, Sister?” Si Yunqin extended her hand, performing the handshake they both knew.

Xi Fengyu took her hand and shook it. “Xi Fengyu. The Xi from ‘stream without water’—”

“I know.”

“Sit?” Xi Fengyu invited Si Yunqin to take a seat. Si Yunqin didn’t stand on ceremony. Once they were seated, Xi Fengyu poured her tea.

“I never imagined there would be another soul from another world in this one,” Si Yunqin said emotionally.

“I figured it out a few years ago. When the essays of the legitimate daughter of the Sikong Mansion spread to the palace, even the Late Emperor praised them. When I heard that, I knew you and I were the same,” Xi Fengyu said slowly.

Si Yunqin understood. So it was because of her. But she had already guessed as much before coming tonight.

She didn’t ask Xi Fengyu why she hadn’t sought her out earlier. There was no need to ask. At that time, Xi Fengyu was in the palace, and Si Yunqin was outside. One was a consort, the other a minister’s daughter. And Xi Fengyu wasn’t a favored consort—it wasn’t easy to contact her.

Moreover, without any contact or understanding, not knowing the other’s character, it was risky to expose oneself.

“I drank too much wine. Those stinky men insisted on debating with me, and I got talkative after drinking,” Si Yunqin said, still feeling regret about her drunken outburst.

Xi Fengyu laughed. “Don’t worry so much. The things you learned were meant to be used. Besides, you didn’t use them to deceive the world.”

“If I were someone who deceived the world for fame, I probably wouldn’t have met you today, Sister,” Si Yunqin said, knowing full well Xi Fengyu’s caution. If it were her, she would have done the same.

“Forget that. Yunqin, were you also born into this world from the womb?” Xi Fengyu asked curiously.

“Yes. I felt confused, as if I was in a foggy haze, and then one day I suddenly emerged and became a baby,” Si Yunqin answered truthfully.

“Same for me,” Xi Fengyu nodded.

“I died from overwork in my past life, and then I came here. What about you, Sister?”

“Me? A car accident. I was on my way to the airport, and then there was a crash,” Xi Fengyu said helplessly.

“I see. Rough on both of us,” Si Yunqin sighed.

“I was twenty-nine when I died. Now I’m twenty. Before I know it, a third of this life has passed,” Xi Fengyu said with emotion.

“Time really flies,” Si Yunqin sighed. “But, as the saying goes, since we’re here, we might as well stay.”

“You take things lightly,” Xi Fengyu chuckled.

“Life goes on. I don’t know why I brought my memories here, but the family and friends here are real—tangible. Am I just supposed to stop living?” Si Yunqin shook her head with a smile.

“That’s true. But it’s a pity that I’m trapped in this palace in this life,” Xi Fengyu said helplessly.

Si Yunqin had nothing to say about that.

“Forget about that. Let’s talk about these books.” Si Yunqin took out a few books she had tucked in her robes.

She wasn’t the type to pry into someone else’s past life story. As for other things, there wasn’t much to talk about—it was all in the past, impossible to go back, and longing for it wouldn’t help.

“Can I start pestering you for updates now?”

Si Yunqin half-joked.

Xi Fengyu hadn’t expected that this was the reason Si Yunqin had found her.