chapter 2
That was how Zhao Ye and I first came to know each other.
There was no instant attraction, only a careful drawing of boundaries.
Later, when his own efforts won back his princely rank, I moved with him into his residence. Our arrangement remained unchanged.
We kept out of each other’s affairs and owed each other nothing. That made it possible for me to leave with a clear conscience.
The only people who made leaving difficult were my parents and my younger sister.
I had not known they were coming to seek shelter with me.
Only when they knocked at the gates did I learn that our hometown had flooded. They had heard I was a prince’s consort and traveled all that way, expecting me to provide them with a comfortable life.
But when we finally saw each other, none of us knew what to say.
After a long hesitation, my parents asked what had happened to me.
I could not explain the palace intrigues behind that bowl of medicine. I could only tell them vaguely that I had been ill.
Their disappointment was plain.
They spent a night in the guest rooms. The next day, they began hesitantly:
“Aqiao, you have to win his favor.”
“You can’t manage it on your own anymore. Why not consider your sister?”
“She’s only sixteen, younger than His Highness. He’ll like her.”
They pushed her forward.
At sixteen, my sister was in the bloom of youth. Plain clothes and simple hairpins could not conceal her beauty.
Girls that age were lovely almost without trying.
Unlike me. I was twenty-three, three years older than the Fifth Prince.
My parents were telling me I was too old and ugly to keep his affection. I should rely on my sister instead.
Their words were brutally practical, but they pierced me all the same.
During my years in the palace, home had been like the moon overhead, distant and dearly missed. Time had softened every quarrel and resentment, leaving only longing.
Now home stood before me, and all I could do was struggle not to cry.
Life offers so many moments when words fail us.
I could not explain that there had never been any love between the Fifth Prince and me. Our marriage was a game the powerful had played on a whim.
It was meant to humiliate him.
And it showed their contempt for me.
I could only refuse my parents calmly, pack their belongings myself, and give them my savings. I told them to rent a place through a broker and find a way to support themselves. We could discuss the rest once they were settled.
They refused to go, calling me Aqiao over and over.
“Aqiao, listen to us. You’re grown now. Why are you still so stubborn?”
“Aqiao, would we ever hurt you? Why let an outsider benefit when it could be someone in our own family?”
“Better to let the meat spoil in our own pot than feed it to strangers. Don’t you understand, Aqiao?”
Aqiao was my childhood name. In the palace, I had longed to hear someone call me that, the way my parents once had. It had been something to hold on to.
Now that I heard it again, it grated on me.
I stopped. “Shuyao,” I said coldly. “Call me Li Shuyao.”
It was the name the Third Prince, the Noble Consort’s son, had given me.
When I was assigned to Yongxiu Palace, the Noble Consort summoned the new maids to warn us how to behave and give us new names.
The Third Prince happened to be there. To test his learning, she asked him to name us.
When he reached me, he paused and smiled.
“‘Bright rises the moon; lovely is the lady. Graceful and gentle, she leaves my heart restless.’ We’ll call you Shuyao.”
Only later did I learn that the words came from the Book of Songs. They praised a woman as lovely as moonlight, a beauty who lingered in the heart.
I was thirteen then. So was the Third Prince.
No one took the compliment seriously. It might have been a passing joke.
But when I was eighteen, those words nearly cost me my life.
Thinking we were alone, the Third Prince leaned close and whispered, “Lovely Shuyao, you leave my heart restless. One day I’ll ask my mother to give you to me.”
His smile was sincere, with a touch of teasing.
I dropped to my knees at once.
The Noble Consort emerged slowly from the inner room. She looked down at me without speaking, then bent forward and drew her long nails across my face.
It hurt, but I kept my expression still and thanked her for her grace.
The Third Prince went pale. He seemed about to speak, then faltered.
The Noble Consort slapped him hard.
“Useless boy. If you truly wanted her, why didn’t you ask me to my face?”
It was a dreadful day.
The Third Prince was beaten.
I was punished.
Afterward, hoping to please the Noble Consort, I went to pick osmanthus blossoms for something to eat. My knees ached, but I rose onto my toes to reach the flowers.
The emperor happened to arrive. He stood to one side, watching me in silence for a long time.
Only when the Noble Consort came out did he look away and smile. “She has something of the quiet maiden in the old poem.”
An eighteen-year-old woman was a ripe fruit. Everyone wanted to pluck it, whether the fruit wished it or not.
Later, the Noble Consort fell ill. I tasted her medicine, and one mouthful sent a terrible bitterness through my chest.
I clutched my chest and collapsed.
When I woke, my face was covered in purple scars.
The imperial physician said I was beyond help. There was no cure.
The Noble Consort used the incident to purge Yongxiu Palace and implicate her enemies. It was a splendid victory for her.
I alone was cast aside. From a second-ranking maid in Yongxiu Palace, I became a washerwoman in the palace laundry.
Later still, the Fifth Prince was reduced to a commoner. The Noble Consort remembered me and ordered us to marry.
At twenty, I finally left the palace.
I had escaped only with difficulty. I knew how dangerous it was behind those walls.
Yet my family wanted to rush straight into that world.
They were naive and reckless, full of greed and resentment. And I could not explain any of it to them.
Every cry of “Aqiao” was a shackle, not an expression of longing. They wanted me to become the bewildered, obedient thirteen-year-old Li Aqiao again.
I could see it clearly now.