chapter 5
Three months after my sister came of age, I turned fifteen.
Though I had lived unnoticed in the harem, this was one of the few important days of my life. The household bureau had prepared my ceremony, even if it was not one-tenth as grand as my sister’s. An unfavored princess could demand no more.
Sister Su rose early. By custom I had to kneel at the ancestral temple, then pay respects to the emperor and empress. She dressed me, carefully painted my brows, and sighed, “Your Highness looks so much like Lady Yi. So beautiful.”
Beautiful?
The girl in the mirror was indeed beautiful. But what had beauty brought Mother? What could it bring me?
This was my first formal audience with Father. Though only forty and still handsome and imposing, he surveyed me without expression. When I raised my head after bowing, he started.
“You…” He seemed about to say something, then merely nodded. “You have grown so much.”
“Inform the household bureau: my fifth daughter comes of age today. I grant her the title Ningzhi.”
Even after thanking him and leaving, I could scarcely comprehend it. An ignored, invisible princess had received a title from the emperor himself.
Many princesses like me received titles only when they married. My sister had been different, titled from birth. Apart from her, I was the first unmarried princess to receive such an honor.
Even the young eunuch leading me became more respectful. At Fengyi Palace, unfamiliar gate maids stole curious glances. News had clearly spread everywhere.
The empress sat high above me, backlit so I could not see her face. As I bowed, a cold gaze struck my back.
“So you have grown this much…” she said with a sneer.
The most exalted, outwardly harmonious couple in the realm had greeted me with identical words. It puzzled and almost amused me.
“Princess Ningzhi…” Her laugh sharpened with mockery, then slowly faded as though nothing had happened.
I had never seen her like this. It frightened me more than open malice. I could never forget the fire when I was eight, the empress’s lifelong lesson to me.
At last I returned home. Through the door came familiar voices—a girl’s bright laughter and a young man’s mellow tones, enough to scatter every shadow.
My sister and Young Master Ning.
Her maid saw me and called, “The Fifth Princess—no, Princess Ningzhi—has returned!”
“A-Xiu!”
My sister waved, smiling. A plate of hot chestnut cakes stood beside her. The young man at her side turned as well, gentle and composed.
“This subject, Ning Ruyan, greets Princess Ningzhi.”
On my fifteenth birthday, I had more than Sister Su and her longevity noodles. I had my sister and the chestnut cakes she brought—and Young Master Ning, whom she had plainly brought along with them.
With an unrelated man present, Sister Su grew constrained. After serving the noodles, she excused herself to watch the tea and withdrew.
I ate quietly and listened to my sister and Ning Ruyan. Before others she was an exalted princess, reserved and dignified. Before him she became an ordinary girl, chatting about small things, frowning or laughing. He watched her as one watches spring peach blossoms or summer lotus, with boundless tenderness.
“I hear you’ve often visited the dance bureau. Looking for new music?”
My chopsticks paused.
My sister noticed nothing. Chin in hand, she waited with sparkling curiosity.
“I heard they acquired some rare manuscripts.” Ning Ruyan answered naturally, effortlessly selecting her favorite peach-blossom pastry from a box and handing it to her.
Even the slowest meal must end, while they seemed able to talk forever. A maid from Fengyi Palace finally rescued me from that awkward exclusion.
“A-Xiu, Mother needs me. I meant to celebrate properly, but…” My sister took my hand apologetically, then smiled at Ning Ruyan. “A-Yan, since you’re free, help me finish the surprise. You know what I prepared.”
“Rest assured, Your Highness.”
At her request, Ning Ruyan and I sat opposite each other in silence.
“How does Princess Ningzhi usually pass her time?” he asked at last, polite and courteous.
But I could not answer honestly. Reading with Sister Su and dancing with Matron Zhang were secrets.
“Needlework, mostly. I have no other diversions.”
“Your Highness is refined.” He smiled, civil but distant. I did not miss the flash of boredom in his eyes.
Of course. I was a quiet, tedious princess, nothing beside my lively, learned sister. A nameless emotion rose inside me and left me flustered.
Then I saw the chestnut cakes and had an idea. Excusing myself to change, I left and later returned with osmanthus cakes.
“Forgive the wait. Please try these humble cakes.”
Surprised, he hesitantly took one. “How fragrant! Sweet but not cloying, and it melts on the tongue.”
I lowered my head to hide my smile. “I’m glad Young Master Ning likes them.”
After eating two, he asked, “Which cook made these?”
The casual question silenced me. Seeing my hesitation, he laughed. “Please don’t misunderstand. I won’t steal your cook. My mother loves osmanthus cakes, and these are rarely so good. I only hoped to ask her advice.”
“It isn’t difficult. Use late-blooming osmanthus rather than fresh blossoms, and add a little milk before steaming. That makes them especially soft…”
He listened, his surprise fading into composure. “I did not know they were Your Highness’s work. I am fortunate indeed. I will instruct our cook when I return. Thank you.”
I lifted my teacup, hiding my hot cheeks behind it.
Madam Ning often visited Fengyi Palace, and the palace kitchen prepared these cakes each time. Nothing in the world was truly coincidence; some things happened only because one paid attention.
I meant nothing else. I only wished to repay the woman who had saved Sister Su and me that autumn.
The cakes eased our stiffness, though we were far from familiar.
“Does Young Master Ning often visit the dance bureau?”
“Not often. I enjoy music and occasionally search there for fine compositions.” He turned a green-jade xiao between strong, pale fingers.
Everyone in the capital knew that Ning Ruyan played the xiao peerlessly, its echo seeming to linger for three days. Noticing my gaze, he smiled thoughtfully. “Princess Ninghui’s surprise will take some time. If Your Highness is bored, shall I play something?”
I had no reason to refuse. Soon a lively melody sounded, and I listened, entranced, while my thoughts drifted.
Her coming-of-age banquet had not been my first sight of him. The bureau housed musicians as well as dancers. Matron Zhang, friendly with the music director, often spoke of Young Master Ning’s extraordinary gift and regretted that a nobleman could never devote himself to music.
The name Ning recalled Madam Ning’s kindness, so I had paid more attention. Once, hearing that antique zithers had arrived, I guessed he might visit. I somehow found the courage to disguise myself as a dancer and slip in without telling Matron Zhang.
The bureau had several vast storehouses for instruments and scores. I dared not linger and expected nothing, yet luck favored me.
A handsome youth sat behind an ancient zither. Music flowed from his hands like a river of molten gold beneath the setting sun—tranquil, yet dazzling, shining directly into my heart.