Removing the veil that had hidden her face, Gesang Meiduo let her fingers brush lightly over the carved edge of the bed. Her delicate, rose-tinted fingertips grazed Prince Li Chen's hand, tracing a slow circle in his palm as she asked,"Are you satisfied with the matter concerning the Directorate of Armaments, Your Highness?"
Though her beauty was not of the kind to overwhelm a nation, her allure was undeniable—an intoxicating charm that the reserved noblewomen of the court could never hope to possess. Aroused by her teasing, Li Chen abruptly grasped her hand. But her fingers slipped away like smoke, and she straightened up, casting him a knowing smile from her bewitching phoenix eyes. Elusive yet inviting, resisting yet tempting—he wondered where she had learned such captivating tactics.
"And if I were to say I am not satisfied," Li Chen murmured, "would that anger Your Highness, Princess?"
Gesang Meiduo cast him a glance full of plaintive sorrow. With lips slightly pursed, she replied,"I've gone to great lengths for your sake—burned the bridge of support I had within the Directorate by sacrificing the craftsmen whose allegiance I had secured. The Ministry of War is impenetrable. All my efforts… wasted."
Used—eliminated—wiped clean without a trace. Even if Li Ce and Ye Jiao had examined the corpses themselves, they would have uncovered nothing. Those craftsmen had been her most carefully planted spies, and if they had lived, the weapon-forging techniques of the Tang Dynasty would eventually have made their way to Tibet.
As Gesang Meiduo lowered her gaze in a show of wounded grievance, Li Chen's expression shifted. He patted the bed beside him and said,"Come, Princess, sit with me."
Gone was his usual formal decorum; his tone now laced with teasing insolence. Yet Gesang Meiduo did not sit. She strolled leisurely through the hall, pausing before a screen depicting gentle hills and distant ridges, a faint wistfulness flickering in her eyes.
"Speak," she said at last, turning to him with steady poise. "What is it you wish to do this time, Your Highness?"
As she left the hall and stepped into the courtyard, Gesang Meiduo came face to face with Princess Consort Yan Shuangxu. Dressed in opulent robes, her hair adorned with glinting ornaments, Yan Shuangxu was followed by a retinue of consorts, nurses, maids, and attendants—her regal presence unmistakable.
In contrast, Gesang Meiduo had arrived alone, and she would leave the same way. She stood squarely in the center of the path, giving Yan Shuangxu a polite nod before striding forward with neither hesitation nor deference. The hem of her azure gown swept forward like the low sky over the highlands, pressing against Yan Shuangxu with silent challenge. Instinctively, the latter stepped aside, awkwardly conceding the way.
"Your Highness the Princess," Yan Shuangxu said as they brushed past each other, "I trust your affairs have been concluded?"
The words were a barbed insinuation: You came here for favors. I am the mistress of this house.
Gesang Meiduo halted. Lifting her hand, she pulled back the veil, her bright eyes meeting Yan Shuangxu's with indifference."Affairs? I merely came to visit Prince Wei. Oh—by the way," she added with a tilt of her head and a slow smile,"Tell the servants attending him to be more mindful. He was covered in two layers of quilts. Far too warm. I took the liberty of removing one."
Yan Shuangxu's eyes widened in shock. Her cheeks flushed crimson with rage. Gesang Meiduo was openly accusing her of neglect—and hinting at an intimacy between herself and Li Chen that no virtuous woman would dare to claim.
Without waiting for a response, Gesang Meiduo swept past the astonished servants and strode out of Prince Wei's manor like a triumphant conqueror. Yan Shuangxu, barely containing her fury, hurried into the bedchamber. Pushing open the door, she found Li Chen reclining, the heavy quilt indeed discarded, leaving only a thin covering.
"Your Highness," she said, restraining her emotions as she picked up the cast-off quilt, "I feared you might catch a chill."
Li Chen gave no reply. Instead, he took her hand gently and said,"Don't quarrel with Gesang Meiduo. There's no need. She will never take your place."
Much of the fire in Yan Shuangxu's chest dissipated in that moment. Yes, she was the lawful princess consort. Gesang Meiduo could never change that.
At the Duke of Anguo's residence, all was as it had always been. Preparing the second young lady's dowry had become the household's chief concern. Lands, estates, boats, and shops could be transferred through the city magistrate's office, but chests of bedding, jewelry, silks, inks, and utensils required painstaking effort to make and even more care to preserve. Since the Ministry of Rites had brought the betrothal gifts, the household had been in a constant whirlwind of activity.
Though some whispered that Ye Xi had returned, it was assumed he had come only to attend his daughter's wedding. The servants grew even more cautious, fearful of mistakes that might draw punishment.
After Lady Ye's meeting with Ye Xi, Ye Jiao summoned Feng Jie outside to ask what her parents had discussed. Feng Jie, never skilled at lying, stammered and claimed ignorance. Then, hesitantly, he said,"Miss, would you like to visit Lord Ye at Qingya Temple? I know the way."
"No," Ye Jiao answered at once. "I've long since forgotten what he looks like."
Yet despite her words, she went. She did not enter, but climbed a tree just beyond the temple's walls to look from afar. Her scarlet robes fluttered in the wind like a blooming peony upon the branch.
Inside the temple, people were few and far between. She saw a few acolytes sweeping the stone paths, and another carrying what looked like a basin of paste. Later, he returned with a stack of bowls. So that was lunch? Did her father eat such things too?
As she pondered, she saw a Daoist priest fill a bowl and walk to the most secluded of the meditation quarters. He knocked gently and placed the bowl by the door. Clearly, the man inside ate alone.
Ye Jiao's heart clenched. She stared at that door, feeling an inexplicable connection.
Then the door opened. A Daoist emerged, bending to retrieve the bowl. From her high perch, Ye Jiao squinted, trying to see his face. Tall and lean, his posture remained dignified despite his plain robes. His skin was tanned, his hair tied tightly by a Daoist clasp, his nose high and straight. She tried to see more, but the distance made it difficult.
Just as the man turned to leave, he suddenly stiffened and looked up. Their eyes met.
Lightning seemed to strike her where she sat. Her limbs went numb, and she nearly fell from the tree. Clinging to the trunk, she scrambled down in panic, no longer daring to glance back. She knew—knew with piercing clarity—that the man she had seen was her father. The father who had been absent for thirteen years. The father who had left her with no memory at all.
And yet, she remembered what Feng Jie had once told her: that her father had broken his leg to save her. Let it be true. Let that story be real. If it was, then she could believe she had once been loved—once truly had a father.
As she left the temple, Ye Jiao's expression remained pale. On the main road, she ran into Li Ce. He rode closer, and their horses—familiar from many encounters—nickered softly and nuzzled one another.
"What a coincidence," Ye Jiao forced a small smile.
"Not coincidence," Li Ce replied. "I heard you went to Qingya Temple, so I came to find you."
Ye Jiao was puzzled. She often left the city, yet why this time, had Li Ce rushed to meet her?
"To find me? What for?" she asked.
"To bring you a gift."
Li Ce studied her face, sensing the shadows in her mood. The gift he brought was a mountain full of peach blossoms. He had purchased land outside Chang'an, where every slope was now aflame with blooming trees. It was the height of their season—like a sea of mist and fire cascading across the hills.
"How beautiful," Ye Jiao murmured. "When I was little, I once snuck out with Sister Yan and the others to see peach blossoms. The memory stayed with me for years."
Li Ce knew well—back then, her companions had been Fu Mingzhu, Yan Shuangxu, and Yan Congzheng. And now, finally, it was he by her side.