chapter 3

There was clearly no particular friendship between us, and yet I began deliberately listening for any news of the war.

At Shangshan Hall, my imperial brothers loved nothing more than discussing such frontier matters with the Grand Tutor.

That was how I learned that Wei Lingxiao had gone to the bitter, freezing northern wasteland during the coldest days between the end of winter and the start of spring.

I heard that before the fighting even truly began, many soldiers had died of the cold.

Remembering how the icy lake had felt the day I fell in, I could not help shivering.

I could not stop myself from stepping forward to join the talk. “Third Imperial Brother, you just said Sister Xiao went to suppress a rebellion. Who rebelled? Are they her match?”

The Second Imperial Brother advised me coldly, “This matter — I am afraid neither you nor I can do anything about it.”

I answered him honestly. “I am not trying to do anything about it. I am only worried for Sister Xiao’s safety.”

The Third Imperial Brother answered me readily enough, though with a contemptuous air. “Does Second Brother not know the ways of these womenfolk? We say we are going to defend the country, and they do not understand it — they only cry and wait for us to come home, begging that the war stop.”

“So Jing’an, stop your idle worrying. A few ragged rebels will be no trouble for Marquis Wei. But as we see it, why use a cleaver to kill a chicken? There must be some other reason our imperial father has—”

“Third Brother!” Brother Crown Prince cut him off sharply, glancing at me meaningfully. “Do not presume to read His Majesty’s mind, or you may twist our imperial father’s intentions.”

I pretended to be slow-witted and nodded along, but I understood what the Third Imperial Brother had meant to say.

The northern wasteland was a thousand li away. If it were only a matter of putting down a few bandits, sending Wei Lingxiao would be a waste of her talents. There must have been a secret order.

Otherwise they would not have sent her marching in the middle of the night, not even letting her come home for the new year to be reunited with her family.

Remembering that the Marquess’s mansion had only this one daughter, my mother and I discussed it and prepared some modest gifts to send as consolation.

I had originally wanted to visit the old Marquess and his wife in person, but when I petitioned my imperial father for leave to leave the palace, he would not permit it.

He even chided me a little, saying that letting me study was already an exception — how could I go out and show my face in public besides?

I came back dejected and sighed before my mother. “Brother Crown Prince could travel with the Three Tutors to roam the great mountains and rivers when he was nine, while I, already past the age for coming-of-age ceremonies, am still trapped in the palace.”

I looked at my mother, who was staring blankly at the flickering candlelight. “Mother, after I marry one day, will I still be trapped in a square little courtyard?”

“Then when will I ever walk freely out into the streets? Must I pile up military exploits like Sister Xiao before I may?”

My mother had always been a light-hearted soul, letting the worries of the day end with the day. Even my imperial father said outright that what he loved most about her was that easygoing spirit.

But at this moment, her face no longer wore its carefree mask.

“By all rights, of course one should not have to earn military exploits before being allowed to walk the streets. But in this place, it seems there is no other way.”

Confusion and sorrow filled her brows and the corners of her eyes as she drew me gently into her arms.

“Jing’an, I wanted you to study because I did not want you to live your whole life benighted, a mere accessory to men.”

“But now that you read and begin to understand, I am afraid that in the end you too will be unable to resist the current, unable to do what you want, and unable to be happy.”

I rested my head on my mother’s shoulder, gazing at the wind and snow outside the window, and thought deeply for a long time.

Wei Lingxiao’s face flashed through my mind.

That person was like the blazing sun, illuminating the road before my eyes.

So I said to my mother, “Most things in this world do not go as we wish. Among all these disappointments, I only hope that at the very least I have tried my best, fully awake and clear-eyed.”

My mother’s body went visibly stiff.

She repeated my words. “At the very least, tried your best, fully awake and clear-eyed.”

She reached out and ruffled the hair at my forehead. I had rarely seen her smile like this.

It was gentle yet free-spirited, as if she had parted the mist and finally seen the light. “Ever since I transmigrated into this book, I have felt trapped in a dream, with no answers to anything. I did not know what to do, and muddled through these dozen-odd years.”

She laughed at herself. “I thought that, like the clichéd plots, if I won a man’s love, I would complete my task and go home. But here I still am, trapped — so clearly that is not how it works.”

My face was full of bewilderment, and I asked her what she was talking about.

My mother shook her head, and tears of joy almost spilled from her eyes. “I have been thinking too small. Jing’an, just do whatever you want to do. Your mother will pave the way for you.”

I took my mother’s hand. This was the first time I had wanted to stand before her, to shield her in return.

“Mother, you have already done many out-of-the-ordinary things for my sake. Qijin’s words are true: you have no wish to harm anyone, but with so many eyes fixed on the rear palace, every wish of ours comes as a thorn in their hearts. Now more than ever, we should calm ourselves and bide our time.”

My mother smiled at me with approval and poured me a cup of tea with her own hands.

“Do you know what I loved best when Consort Xi first returned to the palace?”

My mother loved telling me stories in private.

She said there was a book called The Tale of Niohuru’s Misplaced Heart that was wonderfully entertaining, and as I grew older and understood more, she would tell it to me over meals or while I washed.

Seeing that I could not guess, my mother said leisurely, “Then do not blame this consort for disregarding the sisterhood of old.”

I smiled knowingly and had Qijin fetch the almanac.

The wind and snow outside the window grew stronger. I turned the pages, and beneath the warm lamplight, pointed out to my mother the day of the autumn harvest.

“Then do not blame Jing’an for disregarding the brotherhood of old.”