Chapter 22: Is She Really So Distant from Him…

Chapter 22: Was She Really So Alienated from Him?

Pei Wei appeared stunned by the remark, her almond eyes widening in surprise. Yet moments later, they reddened, and she whimpered softly, murmuring, "Elder Sister..."

Others might not get it, but she knew all too well the bitterness in her elder sister’s heart.

She had never sought wealth or glory—only a lifetime of happiness and peace. But now, confined within the palace walls, no matter how helpless she felt, she had no choice but to endure in silence.

Yet her elder sister had once been the most vibrant and dazzling woman she had ever known!

How had she ended up so miserable and subdued?

Seeing her younger sister on the verge of tears, Pei Yun instead laughed, her tone light and cheerful. "Why the long face? Your elder sister was only joking—why would you believe it?"

Yes, why would she believe it?

However impulsive she was, she knew full well that she could never have her wish fulfilled. She could never divorce him. Even if she truly parted ways with the Crown Prince, she’d only end up discarded.

And if she truly became the first deposed Crown Princess in Great Zhao’s history, the Pei family would become a joke across the capital. How could they ever recover their dignity?

Just like Prince Cheng and Princess Consort Cheng in her past life—merely because Prince Cheng had mentioned "divorce" to his birth mother, Noble Consort Gao, the word had somehow spread through gossip, sparking a scandal. Princess Consort Cheng’s maternal family, the Cheng household, had been humiliated and mocked relentlessly.

She was still lucid enough—she would never do anything to harm the Pei family.

Perhaps years later, when the Crown Prince ascended the throne, he might recall her years of compliance and, out of guilt for not being able to make her Empress, show kindness to the Pei family.

Having crouched for so long, her legs had gone numb. Pei Yun pulled Pei Wei to her feet, only to suddenly hear a voice call out, "Third Master!"

That familiar voice—she looked up and indeed saw Chang Lu, panting heavily as he ran to a stop beside a familiar figure.

At the sight of that person, Pei Yun’s fine brows knit involuntarily.

How had he returned so quickly?

Pei Yun’s reaction did not escape Li Zhangye’s notice. Outwardly, he kept his cool, but his sleeves hid his restless, clenching fists. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if she’d meant it or was just teasing.

But soon, Pei Yun gave him his answer.

For he watched as his Crown Princess slightly averted her gaze, only for her frown to ease and her lips to lift the moment she caught sight of another figure approaching her.

"Mother."

Li Jin returned with a basket of red plum blossoms, and upon catching sight of Li Zhangye, he promptly bowed and greeted, "Father."

"Someone was selling these plums along the street. Seeing the petals still glistening with dew, fresh and delicate, I bought them."

He plucked out the few branches of vermilion plums—the only ones of their kind in the basket—and hesitantly offered them to Pei Yun, his face betraying his nerves. "These... are for you, Mother."

Pei Yun gazed at the fiery, agate-like blossoms and felt an unexpected tightness in her throat.

Her Jin Er had been thinking of her.

She reached out and took the bouquet, bringing it to her nose for a gentle inhale. "These flowers... Mother likes them very much."

Hearing this, Li Jin seemed as though a weight had lifted from his chest, and he beamed. "If Mother likes them, then it’s all worth it."

He had been drawn to these blossoms at first glance, feeling they suited his mother perfectly. In a moment of impulse, he had bought them—yet afterward, he’d feared she might turn her nose up at them.

But seeing Pei Yun's delighted expression, Li Jin happily distributed the remaining palace-pink plum blossoms from the basket to Second Aunt and his two aunts.

Though young, he was thoughtful and considerate, ensuring no one was left out.

Li Zhangye pursed his lips, silently watching the scene—no, rather, gazing at Pei Yun’s radiant smile, lost in thought.

"Third Brother, Third Sister-in-law, Tang Er?"

The call drew everyone’s attention, and they turned to see a man in a raven-blue patterned brocade robe, his face alight with surprise, striding toward them. Behind him followed a woman in a pink-trimmed rabbit-fur jacket and a gray-purple pleated skirt embroidered with silver threads.

The woman wore her hair in a high bun, her head slightly bowed, appearing rather timid.

"Fourth Brother, Fourth Sister-in-law," Li Shutang was the first to recognize them.

Who knew the lantern festival would be so lively today, bringing encounters with so many familiar faces?

Prince Cheng, too, hadn’t expected it. He had just accompanied Princess Consort Cheng in releasing lanterns and was about to head for tea when he happened upon the Crown Prince’s party.

"This humble brother reserved a private room at Mingcheng Teahouse earlier. Now that Siyuan and I are tired from walking, we plan to rest there. They also have storytelling and music performances. Why don’t you join us, Third Brother?"

Li Zhangye glanced over and noticed Li Shutang’s eyes brightening at the mention of "storytelling and music," though she bit her lip and remained silent.

"Very well," Li Zhangye nodded. "Let’s rest for a while."

Mingcheng Teahouse wasn’t far—just a short walk away. Due to the festival, the teahouse was packed, but fortunately, Prince Cheng had reserved a private room well in advance. Otherwise, even a fortune might not have secured a seat today.

Prince Cheng seemed a regular at the teahouse. The attendant, spotting him, greeted him as "Master Fourth" and immediately fawned over him, bowing and scraping.

He led the group to the private room and ordered a spread of tea and snacks to be served.

The teahouse was uniquely arranged—the inner windows of the private room offered a clear view of the main hall below, where the storyteller, seated at the center, struck his storyteller's clapper and swaying as he spoke, spun a tale full of twists and turns that captivated the audience, earning rounds of applause.

Originally, there were only two round tables in the private room, but the attendant, quick-witted, added another upon seeing the large group.

The ladies and young Li Jin sat at the two tables by the window, while Li Zhangye and his brother settled in the inner section, facing each other over tea.

Princess Consort Cheng, Cheng Siyuan, had initially wanted to stay with Prince Cheng but was gently persuaded to join Pei Yun and Li Shutang instead.

Pei Yun noticed Cheng Siyuan keeping her hands on her knees, silent and reserved. She must be shy—rumor had it that before marrying Prince Cheng, she had remained in her hometown of Lixi until she was fourteen before returning to the capital. A year later, she married, likely leaving her with few acquaintances in the city.

Prince Cheng probably hoped she would grow closer to her sisters-in-law and younger sister-in-law.

Pei Yun knew little about Princess Consort Cheng. In her past life, their interactions had been minimal. After the separation incident, Cheng Siyuan rarely appeared at social gatherings except for imperial banquets. It wasn’t until the 26th year of Qingzhen, when she gave birth to twins, that her relationship with Prince Cheng seemed to ease—though an unbreakable rift remained, and they were never as close as before.

Pei Yun couldn’t meddle in others’ affairs, but she held no prejudice against this sister-in-law. Besides, Cheng Siyuan was petite and porcelain-skinned, with a lovely oval face—so endearing that even Pei Yun felt protective of her.

She pushed a plate of lotus blossom pastries (lotus-shaped shortbread) toward Cheng Siyuan. "Thanks to Prince Cheng, we get to enjoy such a fine spot today. These pastries are quite good—please try one, Princess Consort."

"You're too kind, Crown Princess. The more, the merrier," Cheng Siyuan replied shyly, nibbling delicately.

Li Zhangye took a sip of tea, his fingers absently circling the rim of the cup, his gaze subtly lingering on the figure by the window, her smile radiant.

At this moment, she sampled the treats, listened to the storyteller, and occasionally whispered to those beside her, her almond eyes twinkling with genuine joy.

As if the woman who had spoken those painful words, wearing that heartbroken look just moments ago, had never existed.

Li Zhangye wished he could pretend he hadn’t heard her words—or convince himself he’d misunderstood her meaning.

But he was not one to turn away.

What could have possibly led Pei Shi to utter such grave words as "refusing to become Crown Princess"?

"If a woman says she wants to seek a divorce from her husband, what could be the reason?"

Prince Cheng nearly choked on his tea. He studied his usually stoic elder brother and answered bluntly, "What other reason would there be? It must be because her husband treats her poorly."

Li Zhangye was momentarily taken aback, his brows furrowing slightly. "She is dissatisfied with her husband?"

"Of course. What other reason would there be?" Prince Cheng replied. "In a marriage, the husband is the wife’s entire world. Other matters are trivial. If the husband himself is unreliable, how can the wife depend on him?"

Upon hearing this, Li Zhangye lowered his gaze, his expression growing graver.

Prince Cheng glanced ahead. The teahouse was bustling, and the streets outside were equally noisy due to the lantern festival. Their conversation was barely audible, even though they were in the same room.

He leaned closer to Li Zhangye and couldn’t help but ask, "Third Brother, whose wife seeks a divorce?"

Li Zhangye remained silent for a long while before giving him a faint glance and answering impassively, *“A friend.”*

A friend?

Prince Cheng was incredulous. Though he had mellowed after marriage, he still enjoyed gathering with friends in teahouses and taverns for casual gossip. How could there be gossip in the capital that he hadn’t heard of? This was truly novel.

With the palace gates about to close, Pei Yun prepared to leave with the Crown Prince after nearly an hour in the teahouse.

The Pei family's carriage wasn’t far from Pei Yun’s. As they walked together and were about to part ways, Pei Yun suddenly heard a frantic "Eldest Sister!" and saw Pei Qian looking at her with anxiety and desperation.

Pei Yun turned to the Crown Prince and said respectfully, "Your Highness, I just remembered there are a few words I need to say to my second sister. Might I have a moment? I’ll return shortly."

The Crown Prince nodded in assent.

Pei Yun turned and headed toward the Pei family’s carriage. She left Pei Wei outside and gestured for Pei Qian to follow her inside.

Once seated in the carriage, she pinned Pei Qian with a sharp gaze.

"Out with it. What do you want?"

Pei Qian bit her lip and knelt down. "I plead with Eldest Sister to let me stay..."

Pei Qian knew very well that if she missed this chance, she would never have another.

Her eldest sister was merciless, offering no quarter. After their father wrote to say he would deal with their mother, Pei Yun had casually sent back a message: "Children must be disciplined in time, or risk going astray."

The meaning couldn’t be clearer.

Her father, utterly selfish, had decided to ship off both her and her mother back to their hometown and her brother to the distant Zhaode Academy, all to avoid angering Pei Yun and maintain his comfortable life in the capital.

Pei Qian, voice thick with tears, said, "I can’t return to Cangzhou with Mother. That day, I exposed Mother’s crimes in front of Grandmother. Now, Mother hates me to the core. She’s always seen me as a tool to aid Father and Brother. If we return to Cangzhou, she’ll go to any lengths to secure their future—then my life would be over."

Pei Yun believed her.

In her past life, when Wang Shi saw that Pei Qian had no hope of entering the Eastern Palace, she had indeed married Pei Qian off as a concubine to a marquis in his fifties—a man whose youngest daughter was even older than Pei Qian.

"Was your twisted ankle deliberate during Chen'er’s 100-day celebration?"

That wasn’t all. The day Pei Yun returned to the estate, Pei Qian had twice exposed Wang Shi—likely as a bid for trust.

She’d long wanted to break free from Wang Shi’s grip.

However, the previous time, because Madam Pei was too partial to Pei Chi'an, Wang Shi got away with it.

Pei Qian froze for a moment, then gave a firm nod. "Yes. Although Grandmother and Mother pulled out all the stops to get me into the Eastern Palace, I never wanted it, yet I couldn’t resist. Once, I just answered back once, and Mother slapped me hard."

"Eldest Sister," Pei Qian said tearfully, looking at Pei Yun. "I have no intention of competing with you or hindering you. After all, our family's current circumstances are all thanks to you. I also understand that rather than being a concubine to the Crown Prince, living in perpetual subservience, it’s better to be the wife of a modest household and live freely."

Pei Yun studied her intently upon hearing this. Since they had barely spent time together, her understanding of this cousin had always been superficial, seeing her as nothing more than obedient and mild-mannered. She had once heard her younger sister Pei Wei mention that Pei Qian was quite different from her mother.

Now, after hearing her words, she was starting to see her differently.

Pei Qian had street smarts. Though she had her schemes, she was far wiser than her mother, Wang Shi, and understood the principle that the Pei family rose and fell together.

In her past life, after marrying into the marquis’ household, she had once been the old marquis' favorite. Unfortunately, within two years, the old marquis passed on. As a childless concubine with no backing, her later days were undoubtedly bleak.

Pei Yun fingered the jade bracelet on her wrist and said unhurriedly, "If I keep you here and arrange a good marriage for you, what can you offer me in return?"

Pei Qian’s eyes widened slightly, and she immediately teared up with relief, kowtowing. "From now on, whatever Eldest Sister commands, Qian Er will be your loyal follower."

Pei Yun gazed at her.

Her mother, Zhou Shi, was timid, her younger sister Pei Wei naively simple, and her elder brother was stationed far away at the southern border. She needed someone like this—someone to assist her and watch over the Pei family.

And Pei Qian, who had been chafing under Wang Shi’s control, was just the right person to serve her purpose.

"Good. Remember what you said today."

After alighting from the carriage, Pei Yun approached the Crown Prince and curtsied. "Your Highness, forgive my tardiness."

Li Zhangye said, "Think nothing of it," and helped Pei Yun onto the carriage before swinging himself onto his horse with practiced ease to return to the palace.

Once inside the palace, Li Zhangye sent escorts to accompany Li Shutang, who rode a small sedan chair, back to her quarters. Upon reaching the Eastern Palace, Li Jin also cupped his hands in farewell to his father and mother before heading in another direction toward his own residence, the Inkstone Pool Hall.

Pei Yun’s Luminous Hall was in the same direction as the Crown Prince’s bedchamber.

Yet, though the Radiant Hall lay ahead, Pei Yun watched as the Crown Prince marched right past its entrance without so much as a glance.

She paused slightly, realizing he was heading to the Luminous Hall.

So late at night—was this about seeing Chen'er?

Otherwise, since it wasn’t their appointed conjugal night, what else could he be there for?

Pei Yun held her tongue and silently followed behind as the Crown Prince entered her bedchamber.

While the palace maids served tea, Pei Yun quietly instructed Shu Mo to check the side hall. If Chen'er was still awake, she was to bring him for the Crown Prince to see.

The Crown Prince sat on the small couch in the inner chamber. When the tea was served, he did not touch it, instead tapping his fingers on the table with a dull sound.

After years of marriage, Pei Yun could occasionally guess the Crown Prince’s thoughts by observing his demeanor. At this moment, she could tell he seemed preoccupied.

But she had never been one to pry. Yet moments later, he suddenly looked straight at her and said quietly, "Earlier, I heard from Fourth Brother that Second Brother and his princess consort have been at odds recently."

Pei Yun arched a delicate brow, wondering why the Crown Prince was concerning himself with others’ affairs.

Princess Consort Yu did quarrel with Prince Yu frequently, but that could hardly be called "at odds"—it was more like calculated petulance. For all she knew, Prince Yu might even enjoy it.

As she puzzled over this, the Crown Prince continued, "They say the greatest taboo in a marriage is resentment. If the Crown Princess has any grievances against me, she should speak her mind."

Pei Yun frowned.

After two lifetimes as his wife, this was the first time he'd ever spoken to her like this.

If she were to list her grievances against him, she could go on until dawn. The greatest dissatisfaction was likely his cold, detached nature—his heart harboring another woman, and also... how rough he was in bed.

Yet Pei Yun understood that she could not demand the Crown Prince change a temperament he'd had since childhood, nor could she make him forget Shen Ningjia.

After all, she was his cousin, his childhood sweetheart, and the woman he was supposed to marry as Crown Princess. To be honest, if he could forget Shen Ningjia so easily, that would make him truly heartless.

Though resentful, Pei Yun now no longer sought any change from the Crown Prince. Since she no longer cared, whether he changed or not had nothing to do with her.

Pei Yun smiled gracefully and said, "This consort has no complaints against you."

Li Zhangye's brows furrowed slightly. He had clearly seen the momentary contemplation in Pei Yun's eyes upon hearing his words—proof that grievances did exist.

He leaned forward slightly, speaking faster. "If anything ever bothers you, you may also tell me."

Pei Yun forced a smile. "There are none."

She suspected Prince Cheng must have said something to the Crown Prince at the teahouse that led to such unusual behavior, prompting these questions.

She knew better—if she were to pour out all her complaints, their already fragile façade of harmony would truly collapse.

Just as she was growing impatient, her peripheral vision caught Shu Mo standing by the carved partition in the distance, shaking her head at her.

Understanding, Pei Yun turned to the Crown Prince and said, "Your Highness, Chen'er is asleep. It is late, and your health comes first. You should retire early as well."

Li Zhangye pressed his lips into a thin line, his gaze darkening.

She thought he had come for Chen'er.

And as for the latter part of her words—even if he were foolish, he could discern the meaning.

Pei Shi was clearly trying to get rid of him.

Lowering his lashes, he remained silent for a moment before finally rising. "The Crown Princess must also be tired. Rest early."

"Farewell, Your Highness."

Li Zhangye walked slowly out of Linglang Hall, walking the long palace path, yet his mind wouldn’t quiet.

He hated feeling out of control.

As his fourth brother had said, perhaps there truly were small issues between him and Pei Shi that he had failed to notice.

Pei Shi resented him but never spoke up. Since marrying him, she had always played the part of the serene, graceful consort—never once making a scene.

At this thought, Li Zhangye frowned.

No, there had been one exception—just once.

That was several months ago, when he bid her farewell before leaving for Tan County.

She had looked at him with pure scorn and disgust, and she had even spoken words that shocked him.

Li Zhangye had an excellent memory. With a little recollection, he recalled exactly what she’d said that day.

She accused him of gifting her brocade just to ease his own guilt.

She said he treated her as an object, resenting that he never bothered to pick out gifts himself.

She had also said he never truly understood what she wanted...

Li Zhangye hadn’t taken those words seriously at the time, especially the last line. He believed that whatever she desired, he could provide it.

The day after their lavish wedding, he handed her the keys to the Eastern Palace treasury, symbolizing the complete transfer of household authority into her hands.

She was free to take whatever she pleased.

Once he ascended the throne, she would become his sole empress, the nation’s mother figure, and he could give her even more.

Li Zhangye abruptly stopped walking, his sharp brows knitting tightly.

He seemed to have finally identified the core issue.

He had given her many gifts, yet not once had she actively asked for anything.

All these years, she had never taken anything from the Eastern Palace treasury on her own, nor had she ever requested anything from him.

If she didn’t genuinely want nothing, then she must have been unwilling or uncomfortable to speak up.

They were husband and wife, yet she remained so distant...

Li Zhangye stood silently for a long time.

He knew that over the years, his focus had been on political matters, spending little time with Pei Shi, so some estrangement was inevitable. He supposed Pei Shi harbored resentment because of this.

In her heartbreak, she had spoken those words by the river.

But the distance wasn’t irreparable. Li Zhangye realized he ought to carve out more time to spend with his crown princess.

Fortunately, no matter what, Pei Shi still held him in her heart.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have felt jealous of other women possibly entering the Eastern Palace, nor would she have taken the effort to embroider sachets for him, and...

Chang Lu shadowed him closely, watching his master’s expression carefully. Since leaving Linlang Palace earlier, the crown prince had been solemn, frequently furrowing his brows, lost in thought. Then he suddenly halted, his expression darkening.

After standing for a moment, Chang Lu saw the crown prince raise his hand, his large palm brushing against the sachet at his waist. As if comforted by a calming touch, his expression gradually softened. Turning to Chang Lu, he spoke earnestly.

"Chang Lu, handle a matter for me."

Eastern Palace, Linlang Palace.

Pei Yun lounged on a small divan, her slender, fair fingers gently arranging the vermilion plum blossoms in the plain vase. A faint smile played on her lips.

Jin Er had bought these for her during the Lantern Festival three days earlier. The moment Pei Yun returned, she had Shu Yan carefully arrange them so they could last longer.

After all, this was the first gift her Jin Er had ever given her.

In her previous life, before she died, Jin Er had already stopped confiding in her, even speaking to her with a respectful and distant demeanor—cold and withdrawn, becoming more like his father every day.

He wasn’t always that quiet. His temperament had truly cooled after the death of his only younger brother.

Before Chen'er passed away, he had adored his elder brother the most, always trailing behind Jin Er with childish coos, raising his tiny hands to ask for a hug.

Pei Yun felt increasingly guilty.

It was her fault that Jin Er had become so lonely in her previous life.

She glanced at Chen'er, who lay nearby clutching a cloth tiger and playing by himself. Gathering him into her arms, she whispered softly, "Our Chen'er must grow up well this time, always staying by your elder brother’s side."

When Li Jin entered, he happened to see Pei Yun holding Li Chen with reddened eyes. He panicked instantly and momentarily forgot all decorum, hurrying forward. "Mother, what's wrong?"

Pei Yun quickly turned her head and wiped the tears welling in her eyes with her fingertips, forcing a smile as she lied casually, "It's nothing. I just thought I heard Chen'er call me 'Mother' and was overjoyed..."

Could he really be calling for her at this age?

Li Jin took his younger brother Li Chen's chubby little hand and, hearing this, began to teach him word by word, "Chen'er, say 'brother'—'bro... ther...'"

Li Chen, of course, understood none of it. His round, bright eyes simply stared at Li Jin's wide-open mouth, perhaps finding it amusing, as he squinted and giggled, babbling happily.

Seeing Li Jin pout, disappointed, Pei Yun couldn't help but laugh. Her gaze then fell on the attendant Xiao Shunzi behind him, who was holding a scroll. "What have you brought?"

Li Jin then remembered why he had come.

"Grandfather's birthday is next month. I've painted a Southern Mountains Longevity Painting and wish to present it to him."

With that, he motioned for Xiao Shunzi to unroll the painting for Pei Yun to see.

Pei Yun leaned in, pretending to be very interested, though in truth, she had already seen this painting in her past life.

Back then, she had given it only a dismissive glance before coldly telling Jin Er to put it away, saying his poor skills would only embarrass him if presented to his grandfather.

She still remembered how his face fell from excitement to disappointment and hurt after her cruel words.

Though she was his mother, in her past life, she had also been the one to wound him the deepest.

"Your painting has improved greatly, Jin Er. I think your grandfather will surely like it."

Hearing this, Li Jin immediately beamed. "Do you mean that, Mother? But this is just a draft. There are still many days left, and I want to paint a few more, improving them to pick the best one."

In truth, he hadn't told his mother that he had hidden a little surprise in this painting. He wanted to keep it secret until the birthday banquet, when he could show her.

Li Jin stayed only briefly before rushing off so fast he almost tripped, eager to continue painting.

If her past self had seen this, she would have scolded him for his lack of composure. But now, she simply watched his retreating figure with a tender smile.

Children should be free to act like children.

Yet soon, as if remembering something, Pei Yun's smile faded slightly.

Had Jin Er not mentioned it, she might have forgotten—soon, it would be her emperor father-in-law's birthday.

Her emperor father-in-law was an interesting man. Perhaps because he had been a military general before ascending the throne, he loved hunting and archery. Every year for his birthday, instead of hosting grand banquets in the palace for all to celebrate, he would lead the imperial family, concubines, and ministers to the imperial hunting grounds near the capital for a spring hunt.

Year after year, it was the same.

But Pei Yun remembered that this year's celebration would end in disaster.

Especially on the final day, during the birthday banquet at the temporary palace, an incident occurred that shook her to the core.

It had seemed like an ordinary gift presentation—until the jade disc presented by the crown prince was discovered to be shattered into pieces upon opening the box.

Whether by malice or accident, it undeniably crossed her emperor father-in-law's greatest taboo.

After all, many present knew that over twenty years ago, when her father-in-law had led troops into the capital under the banner of "purging the court," the tyrannical Emperor Yuancheng had already slit his own throat by the time they reached the palace, clutching a broken piece of jade in his hand.

A symbol of "rather be shattered jade than unbroken tile."

That cruel and debauched ruler, whose three-year reign had brought untold suffering to the people, had still chosen this final act to flaunt his "unyielding spirit"—taunting her father-in-law for his "treasonous" coup.

From then on, it became a thorn lodged in Emperor Qingzhen's heart.

Though the Crown Prince handled it deftly and with composure, explaining that the shattered jade had absorbed misfortune, ensuring Great Zhao would henceforth prosper under fair winds and calm seas, Emperor Qingzhen's expression remained grim throughout the night.

Pei Yun, too, was on edge, since she had been the one to prepare the jade disc. The night before, she had ordered Shu Mo to deliver it to the Crown Prince. Before handing it over, she had not inspected it carefully and thus did not know whether the jade had shattered due to her oversight, provoking Emperor Qingzhen’s wrath.

She didn’t dare ask—didn’t even dare speak, for the Crown Prince’s expression was equally grave. The next day, upon returning to the Eastern Palace, Pei Yun heard that the Crown Prince had ordered Chang Lu to punish—even execute—several palace servants, likely because of the shattered jade.

Pei Yun was no expert in the cutthroat games of court politics, but through this incident, she had a nagging suspicion that someone bore ill will toward the Crown Prince and sought to harm him in secret.

And that person’s goal was indeed achieved. Afterward, Emperor Qingzhen gave the Eastern Palace the cold shoulder for a long time. It was not until that summer, when the Crown Prince spent two months resolving the severe drought in the south and her elder brother Pei Xuan dealt the Chěng Tribe a crippling defeat, forcing them to cede territory and sue for peace, that Emperor Qingzhen was greatly pleased. Only then was the matter of the shattered jade truly put to rest.

Now, with a second chance, Pei Yun was determined to act before disaster struck.

She rose and instructed the wet nurse to take Chen'er back to the side hall, then turned to Shu Yan and Shu Mo. "With His Majesty’s birthday approaching, the Eastern Palace must naturally prepare a gift. Accompany me to the storeroom to take a look."

The two murmured their assent. Shu Mo bundled Pei Yun in a fox-fur cloak against the chill. Just as they descended the palace steps, they encountered Sheng Xi leading seven or eight young eunuchs toward them.

He bowed respectfully to Pei Yun. "Your Highness, His Royal Highness noticed your courtyard was rather bare and ordered this servant to plant some seasonal flowers."

Pei Yun mused that the Crown Prince had unexpectedly refined tastes. With a quick glance at the plants the eunuchs carried, she was too pressed for time to linger. "Leave it all to Eunuch Sheng Xi," she said before striding out of Línláng Hall.

Though the storeroom was usually managed by Sheng Xi, he always reported any additions to her, so Pei Yun had a general idea of its contents—especially the most valuable items, which she knew by heart without needing an inventory.

Upon arriving, she instructed Shu Yan to fetch paper and a brush, recording items as she browsed and selected them.

By the time they returned to Línláng Hall, dusk had fallen.

Pei Yun pored over Shu Yan’s notes, making edits and weighing options for some time before finally smiling in satisfaction. She picked up the brush and copied out a fresh list.

Just as she considered finding a moment to visit the Crown Prince, an announcement came—the Crown Prince had arrived.

Perfect timing.

Pei Yun rose at once to greet him.

Li Zhangye faltered for a heartbeat at her beaming smile. He hesitated, then murmured, "I... came to see Chen'er."

Pei Yun was not surprised. Assuming he’d regretted missing the child during the Lantern Festival, it was only natural he would come now. She smiled. "Your Highness has come at just the right time. Chen'er slept in today and just woke up."

With that, she gave Shu Mo a meaningful glance. Shu Mo withdrew, and soon after, Wet Nurse Sun entered the hall carrying Li Chen.

After being held by the Crown Prince several times, Chen'er no longer resisted his father. He sat contentedly in the Crown Prince’s arms, perfectly still.

Pei Yun seized the moment. "Your Highness, with His Majesty’s birthday approaching, the Eastern Palace must prepare a gift. I’ve drafted a list—would you review it and see which item is most suitable?"

Ordinarily, presenting just one gift for an emperor’s birthday would be unthinkably sparse. Previous emperors of Great Zhao had received lists of gifts so long they could stretch from one end of the palace to the other.

Courtiers seized such opportunities to offer treasures, hoping for a meteoric rise. They schemed ruthlessly, bleeding the people dry for their own gain.

After her father-in-law Emperor Qingzhen ascended the throne, he adopted the suggestion of his late mother-in-law, the Late Empress Xiaoren, to rein in excess by limiting tributes to a single gift.

Despite the rift between Emperor Qingzhen and the Late Empress, Pei Yun had to admit that her deceased mother-in-law had been a model empress—her compassion for the people boundless.

They made better monarch and minister than husband and wife.

Li Zhangye cradled Chen'er securely in one arm while taking the list from Pei Yun with the other.

After reading it carefully, he looked up and asked, "Which one does the Crown Princess prefer?"

Pei Yun leaned forward with a smile, pointing at the paper across the low table. "This painting, *The Eight Immortals Celebrating Longevity with Peaches*, strikes me as particularly fine. It is a rare surviving work by Master Yu, a legendary painter whose pieces are scarcely found today. That it has survived so intact for a century is remarkable. And its auspicious meaning makes it perfect for a birthday gift..."

Li Zhangye had been listening attentively, but his gaze gradually shifted from the paper to Pei Yun’s delicate, alabaster fingers.

That night, these same fingers had tangled in his hair in the most unbearable moments, like a desperate, clinging kitten.

He had never known Pei Yun’s body to be so soft, so willing—so much so that he had nearly lost control.

When Pei Yun finished speaking, she bit her lip lightly before murmuring, "Your Highness... What do you think of this painting?"

Li Zhangye nodded. "Excellent. Let it be this one."

Pei Yun let out a slow breath of relief. She’d agonized for ages to find a gift that would satisfy the Crown Prince aside from the jade disc. After much consideration, this painting seemed the most fitting—precious but understated.

It fit the Eastern Palace—and the Crown Prince’s tastes—perfectly. After all, he wasn’t one for flattery or sycophancy.

As Li Zhangye watched Pei Yun put away the paper, his eyes fell upon the vermilion plum blossoms in the ceremonial vase.

From the moment he had entered the hall, he had noticed that Pei Yun was smiling as she greeted him—not the composed smile of before, but one that even softened the corners of her almond-shaped eyes.

She must have liked the wintersweet he’d sent.

Yet, even with this confirmation in mind, he still wished to hear her say it herself.

After a brief silence, he spoke as if casually.

"Today, I had those flowers sent to you. Does the Crown Princess find them pleasing?"

Pei Yun paused, suddenly recalling the incident. She had only glanced at them briefly—she remembered they were some yellow blooms.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I like them very much," she replied with a perfunctory smile. "The wintersweet is in full bloom and truly complements the scenery."

As always, she answered dismissively. But this time, she noticed an abrupt change in the Crown Prince’s expression—his stoic mask shattered in an instant.