chapter 3

On the way back to Yaohua Palace, I took a detour to ask after Director Zhang. Father had shown no mercy even to his own loyal servant. The fifty strokes left the old man barely alive, his organs badly damaged. No one knew how many years remained to him.

The green bird had returned before me and pecked lazily at grain from Wanqiu’s palm. It had once been one of a pair; Mother had taken the other to Jiangnan. After her death, her attendants searched everywhere but never found it. They said the bird must have followed its mistress’s fragrant soul.

Wanqiu signed that all the portraits had been taken. I wrote, I want to send medicine to Director Zhang, tied the note to the bird, and released it again.

That evening, an unremarkable eunuch appeared beside me. “Your Highness may give the medicine to me.”

His face stirred no memory, but the embroidery on his robe showed he was no newcomer. Liu Rongyu’s reach exceeded my expectations.

I had Wanqiu fetch a heart-protecting pill and told the eunuch, “This will preserve his heart meridian despite the internal injuries, giving him time to recover. Anping had no choice but to expose the matter of my birth hour. Ask the old gentleman to forgive me.”

The southern frontier abounded in rare plants and beasts, and its medicine differed from that of the central plains. The Cen family had guarded the region for generations and become part of it. Mother had brought both the heart-protecting pills and the concealing pellets from there. Though she was gone, what she left still protected me.

My nose stung. I forced back the tears and said solemnly, “Tell your master I also wish to enter Hongwen Academy.”

The academy was where the princes learned kingship and the art of ruling men. The one who prevailed would one day sit upon the throne.

The medicine was delivered, but Liu Rongyu sent no answer. Three days later, Empress Zheng summoned me to Fengzao Palace. For “disrespect,” she had me slapped a hundred times, then forced me to kneel beneath the noon sun for two hours with a heavy brick balanced on my head.

The Second Prince had suddenly died. Empress Zheng was no fool. She dared not rage at Father, so she took it out on me. Without food or water all day, I finally collapsed.

When I awoke in my familiar bed, I could almost remember hearing Liu Rongyu sigh through the haze.

After I recovered, Empress Zheng was said to be too grief-stricken to manage palace affairs. Father handed the phoenix seal to Consort Liu. Director Zhang also petitioned to retire. Father allowed him to leave in a year, provided he first chose a successor.

The Astronomical Bureau posted notices across the realm calling for extraordinary adepts. Soon the capital swarmed with diviners and mystics.

Then Grand Tutor Liu advised Father that princesses, too, carried precious imperial blood and should be educated with the princes. Father agreed.

So I entered Hongwen Academy and studied beside the Eldest Prince under Liu Rongyu himself. For months he held nothing back, teaching me the art of commanding men.

One day the Eldest Prince was absent, sent to receive envoys from Northern Yan. After lessons I pretended to have lost an earring and lingered behind.

Liu Rongyu returned. “What is Your Highness looking for?”

I straightened and smiled brightly. “Lord Liu.”

He looked resigned. “What do you need from me now?”

“At last the Grand Tutor is willing to teach me himself.”

Melancholy entered his eyes. “I asked only that you live without illness or calamity and know joy all your life. But your fate is too dangerous. Without more skill, you may not even keep yourself alive.”

I bowed deeply. “This is Little Liuer thanking the Grand Tutor.”

He laughed softly. “Of course. Clever Little Liuer must have guessed who I was the day she sent the bird for help.”

Then he asked, “Will you not ask what relation I had with your mother?”

I shook my head and looked straight into his eyes with Mother’s almond-shaped ones. “You were the person Mother trusted most. That makes you the person I trust most.”

Light glimmered in his eyes. He nodded. “Yes. Little Liuer may trust me as she trusted her mother.”

I nodded hard.

But truthfully, I was not trusting him. I was wagering that he could not watch the orphan of his beloved—an orphan who looked so much like her—die to some palace woman’s cruelty beyond his reach.

I had deliberately leaked the secret of the Taiwei omen to Empress Zheng, forcing Liu Rongyu to place me in the academy. I did not know whom he would choose between the Eldest Prince and me.

I knew only that I had to win.

No emperor would tolerate a star destined to threaten his own. Mother had plotted at immense cost, even paying with her life, to conceal mine. Yet the older I grew, the stronger that star became.

One day it could no longer be hidden.