Zheng Shi woke again, and what greeted her eyes was the familiar green brocade canopy embroidered with bamboo leaves, the air filled with the equally familiar scent of pear incense lingering in the bed curtains.
She stared at the embroidered canopy for two breaths, then turned her face to see her youngest daughter asleep at the bedside.
“Ranran?” She was startled.
“Mm…”
Yun Ran was a light sleeper to begin with. At the sound, she rubbed her drowsy eyes and sat up.
Seeing Zheng Shi awake, she immediately broke into a smile: “That’s wonderful, Mother, you’re finally awake! Please stay lying down, I’ll go tell Father and the others—”
Before she could get up, her hand was grabbed.
Yun Ran turned back in confusion: “Moth—”
She hadn’t even finished the word “Mother” when Zheng Shi pulled her into a tight embrace.
As if holding some precious treasure lost and found, Zheng Shi buried her face deeply in Yun Ran’s soft neck, her voice hoarse and choked: “Ranran, my good child.”
Her breath was warm, but not unpleasant. Instead, it made Yun Ran’s heart feel soft and tender.
She raised her hand and patted Zheng Shi’s back a little awkwardly: “Mother, are… are you alright?”
It took Zheng Shi a while before she let go of her daughter: “It’s nothing, I just had a bad dream.”
The light within the curtains was dim, but Yun Ran still caught sight of Zheng Shi’s reddened eyes: “Mother, what kind of nightmare did you have?”
“It’s nothing good, so I won’t mention it.”
Zheng Shi lifted her sleeve to wipe the corners of her eyes. She was just about to ask why Yun Ran had been keeping watch at her bedside when, out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly caught a flash of bright green.
In an instant, her entire body tensed, and the color drained from her face again.
“This… this is…”
She stared at the vivid green on her daughter’s snow-white wrist, her throat seemingly seized by an invisible hand, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Yun Ran saw this and quickly hid the jade bracelet in her sleeve, then took her mother’s hand: “Mother, the Taiyi said you mustn’t get too worked up, or it will be bad for your health.”
Taiyi.
The last shred of hope in Zheng Shi’s heart was shattered by that word.
She looked at Yun Ran with despair in her eyes, “What exactly is going on?”
Yun Ran knew her mother cared too much about her, which was why she became so emotional and fainted at the Palace banquet.
At that time, not only Yun Ran, but everyone at the banquet was startled; her father even forgot propriety, rushing forward to hold her mother in his arms.
When the scene was in chaos, it was the Emperor who called for the Taiyi and then said to everyone: “The Hou Furen must be too overjoyed. Yun Hou, you must remain steady, don’t lose your head from happiness like your wife.”
The Emperor had graciously provided an excuse, so the Changxin Marquis naturally followed his lead, forcing a smile as he replied: “This humble woman is just a housewife and has never seen much of the world. I beg Your Majesty and the Empress Dowager to forgive her for her lapse in etiquette before the Palace. Since Your Majesty and the Empress Dowager have favored my youngest daughter, it is a blessing for my household. This humble subject, together with my daughter, kowtow in gratitude for the Imperial Grace.”
It was Yun Ran’s first time entering the Palace, and she had never seen such a scene.
Seeing her father kneel, she imitated him and hurriedly knelt to express her thanks.
It wasn’t until she was seated in the carriage returning to the manor that Yun Ran belatedly realized—
In the time it took to attend a Palace banquet, she had muddle-headedly become engaged.
And her fiancé was none other than the infamous, eccentric Jing Prince.
To be honest, even now, she still felt as if she were dreaming, everything unreal.
But it was different for Zheng Shi. Having lived in Chang’an for many years, she knew all too well how ominous the Jing Prince was. Her daughter being engaged to him was no different from having her name written before the King of Hell, just waiting to die!
“My poor child, what terrible fate have you suffered! So young, forced to leave home, enduring so much hardship and pain, finally returning, but before you’ve even enjoyed a few peaceful days, you… you… wuwu…”
The more Zheng Shi thought about it, the sadder she became. Grief overwhelmed her, and her tears fell like rain: “Heaven’s Curse, you wretched heavens, if you want revenge, come at me! Why torment my child again and again—”
Seeing her mother cry so heartbreakingly, Yun Ran’s nose also stung with sorrow: “Mother, please don’t cry. Maybe it’s not as terrible as you think. The Jing Prince… he might not be that frightening.”
If Yun Ran hadn’t mentioned the Jing Prince, it would have been better. At the mention, Zheng Shi became even more distraught, rebellious thoughts welling up in her heart.
She couldn’t help but resent the Empress Dowager. As a mother herself, her own son was precious, while other people’s daughters were nothing, to be sacrificed for the sake of filling a pit.
How hateful, how hateful that imperial power pressed people down, yet they still had to kowtow in thanks for the Emperor’s grace.
Not long after, word spread that Zheng Shi had awoken, and the Changxin Marquis, along with the first, third, and Fourth Young Master Yun, all hurried over.
Seeing the mother and daughter crying in each other’s arms at the bedside, everyone present felt a pang of sorrow.
“It’s already midnight, and you’ve only just woken up. You must avoid excessive joy or grief.”
The Changxin Marquis sighed, gently advising his wife in a low voice: “Wipe your tears now, don’t make the children feel sad as well.”
Zheng Shi lifted her tear-reddened eyes, sweeping her gaze over her children and daughters-in-law at the bedside. Seeing their worried faces, her heart softened, and she gradually stopped crying.
“That’s enough, it’s getting late.”
The Changxin Marquis looked around at everyone with a steady expression: “All of you should return to your rooms and rest.”
The younger members of the Yun family each expressed their concern for Zheng Shi before bowing and taking their leave.
As they left the main courtyard, the bright Mid-Autumn moon still hung high in the sky, shining like an eternal, dazzling lamp.
When they reached the fork in the path, Yun Yi stopped and turned to look at Yun Ran, who was walking at the end. He pressed his thin lips together: “Ranran.”
Yun Ran’s routine was always steady—up at sunrise, to bed at sunset. Normally, she would have long since gone to meet the Duke of Zhou by now, so at this moment she was both sleepy and tired, her eyelids fighting to stay open.
Suddenly hearing her eldest brother call her, she jolted and forced her eyes open, stepping forward: “Big Brother, did you need something?”
Seeing his little sister so dazed with sleep, Yun Yi’s words caught in his throat—
How come this little girl didn’t seem to realize the gravity of this engagement?
Forget it, perhaps ignorance is bliss.
“You… you’re tired after today. Go back and rest early, don’t overthink things,” Yun Yi said.
“Oh, alright.”
Yun Ran nodded, still remembering her manners, and looked at her brothers and sisters-in-law in turn: “Big Brother, Sister-in-law, Third Brother, Third Sister-in-law, Fourth Brother, you all should rest early too.”
Her brothers and sisters-in-law forced smiles and nodded: “Alright.”
Yun Ran yawned, and, supported by the maid Qingling, wobbled off toward her own Listening Summer Pavilion.
The brothers and sisters-in-law stood where they were, gazing at the small figure gradually receding under the silvery moonlight, their hearts filled with mixed emotions.
“Why did it have to be our little sister…”
Third Sister-in-law Qian Sijin was the first to break down, her eyes red: “She’s still so young, just arrived in Chang’an, knows nothing about this place—it’s like throwing a lamb to the wolves.”
The whole family had been happily eating mooncakes for Mid-Autumn when suddenly the steward came to report that Father had returned to the manor carrying Mother, and that their little sister had been betrothed to the Jing Prince. Qian Sijin had been completely stunned.
On the way to the main house, she kept tugging Yun Ze’s hand: “Pinch me, am I dreaming? Or did I drink too much osmanthus wine?”
Yun Ze was just as confused.
Before their parents and sister left, he and his wife had been chatting idly, never expecting such a dramatic turn of events.
Now it was done—little sister had been betrothed to the Jing Prince, so there was no need to worry about those lovestruck suitors coming around anymore—
But in truth, any decent family would steer clear from now on.
Li Wanrong was always composed and self-controlled, but upon hearing such terrible news today, she quietly dug her nails into her palm until it was red.
She even felt regret—had she taught her little sister too well in etiquette, and that’s why she caught the Empress Dowager’s eye?
“Enough, what’s done is done, there’s no use saying more.”
Yun Yi, mindful of his duty as eldest brother, looked at his siblings and their wives: “The Empress Dowager’s betrothal is a sign of favor toward our Yun family. You should know what can and cannot be said. Remember—walls have ears, and trouble comes from the mouth.”
At these words, the others calmed down.
Once everyone dispersed, Yun Ran had already changed out of her ornate dress and was soaking comfortably in the bath.
She lay on the edge of the steaming wooden tub for a long time before opening her eyes to look at her hands—
On her left wrist was a plain wooden bead bracelet, and on her right, a splendid and vivid jade bangle.
So, was she engaged now?
She had never been married, but she knew that the marriage process for men and women involved all sorts of complicated steps, like the three letters and six rites, matchmakers and betrothal gifts…
But her engagement was settled by a single word from the Empress Dowager.
She hadn’t even met the Jing Prince. Apart from all those frightening rumors about him, she had no idea what he looked like, let alone what kind of person he was.
Because of this engagement, the whole family was in turmoil, everyone on edge. But what about the Jing Prince?
What did he think of this sudden engagement?
Yun Ran’s mind was full of questions. Before she could sort them out, exhaustion and sleepiness swept over her, and she fell asleep at the edge of the steaming bath.
***
Sima Jing only learned of the engagement the next day.
When he heard that the Lady of the Marquis of Changxin had fainted on the spot, his face grew even darker.
“Your Highness, Your Highness!”
Inside the Jia Shou Palace, the palace maids hurriedly tried to block the black-robed man striding in, “You can’t enter without being announced—”
Before they could finish, the man shot them a cold, murderous glare. The maids immediately froze, not daring to get closer.
Sima Jing didn’t force his way directly into the inner chambers, but stood at the door, his face cold as he looked at the trailing beaded curtain: “Mother, don’t you think you owe your son an explanation?”
There was a long silence behind the curtain before Empress Dowager Zhao’s gentle voice finally came: “Come in and speak.”
As she finished, Langui Mama by the Empress Dowager’s side personally came out to lift the curtain, her round face full of respectful smiles: “Your Highness, please come in.”
Sima Jing said nothing and strode inside.
The lavish inner chambers were divided into east and west warm pavilions and a flower hall.
The east side was the Empress Dowager’s resting place, separated by layers of pale green gauze curtains.
The west pavilion was a study, with shelves of books lining the wall and a painting of pines and cranes for longevity hanging beside them.
In the corner, a bronze crane incense burner slowly released sandalwood smoke.
Empress Dowager Zhao, dressed in a dark purple palace robe, was seated by the window on a long couch in the flower hall, sipping fragrant tea at her leisure.
Hearing the footsteps, she slowly lifted her eyes. Seeing her youngest son, handsome and elegant in appearance, her smile grew even warmer: “Jing’er, you’re here. Have you had breakfast yet? If not, join me.”
Sima Jing was in no mood for her roundabout talk. He walked to the window and spoke bluntly: “Why did you act on your own and arrange another marriage for me?”
Empress Dowager Zhao’s smile faded slightly, her brows knitting: “Watch your tone. No matter your dissatisfaction, I am still your mother!”
Sima Jing: “…”
He looked quietly at the woman by the couch.
The mother from his childhood memories had been as gentle and kind as a goddess. Ten years apart, reunited once again, she was still beautiful and noble, yet so unfamiliar.
So unfamiliar that he wondered if the mother from his childhood memories had ever truly existed, or if she had only been a figment of his imagination.
“Jing’er, don’t look at me like that.”
Empress Dowager Zhao disliked that cold, sharp, inhuman look in her son’s eyes.
At her words, Sima Jing withdrew his gaze without any change in expression, looking elsewhere.
“This marriage is different from before. Sit down and let me explain.”
Empress Dowager Zhao quickly changed her demeanor to a smile, signaling the maid beside her.
The maid understood and brought over a crescent-shaped stool: “Your Highness, please sit.”
Sima Jing was silent for a moment, then finally sat down.
Seeing this, Empress Dowager Zhao’s smile deepened: “That’s right. Let’s sit and talk. We’re mother and son, not enemies.”
Seeing the young man’s brows still slightly furrowed, Empress Dowager Zhao stopped her platitudes and turned to the subject of the new engagement: “Speaking of which, this little lady from the Marquis of Changxin Manor is quite fated with you. Do you remember the little girl who took the initiative to speak with you last night at the Yuehua Pavilion during the moon viewing?”
Sima Jing’s brows furrowed.
When he met Empress Dowager Zhao’s expectant and certain smile, his brows knit even tighter.
So, it was her.