Lady Wei shook her head and sighed.
Despite it being the New Year, Wei Lin didn’t let Xi Linxuan idle. She visited regularly, sometimes chatting through a screen, sometimes flipping through the Yellow Emperor’s Internal Classic, and sometimes just sitting with a tea bowl.
Wei Lin had always been curious about the foot-long wooden box.
Every time she arrived, the box was placed near the candlestick, sometimes with candles still burning. After reading the books, she considered that the box might contain a secret, unpublished classic text. Perhaps the characters were too small to read without candlelight, and due to the text’s length, Xi Linxuan would read for a while.
All the palace servants had been dismissed by Xi Linxuan, and hidden behind the thick screen, he couldn’t see her. Wei Lin stood up and approached the box, thinking, “This box was given to me by Master Xu. Looking once can’t be too much—just one glance!”
Gently touching the box clasp, she lifted it without a sound. The wax figure inside went unnoticed as she tilted her head to look at the edge of the box, running her hand over the rough, unplaned wood. Did one really need a candle to see?
She noticed the fire striker nearby and carefully picked it up, focused on lighting the candle, unaware of the rustling clothes and the nearly silent wheelchair rolling on the floor.
Finally lighting the candle, Wei Linxia reached for the clasp and opened it slightly when a porcelain-white hand suddenly slammed down on the box.
Startled, Wei Linxia turned to find Xi Linxuan behind her, his handsome face flushed but not angry; it seemed more like a secret had been uncovered.
“Your Highness… I was just wanting to look at the wax figure,” Wei Linxia explained.
Xi Linxuan leaned forward to grab the box, but it was heavy. He stumbled, almost falling as he reached for it, and Wei Linxia instinctively steadied him against her.
At seventeen, Xi Linxuan’s chest had become more robust. When Wei Linxia’s hand touched his clothes, she instinctively pulled back, causing him to lose balance. He quickly grabbed the table’s edge, narrowly avoiding falling. In the process, he trapped Wei Linxia in his arms, their faces almost touching.
Wei Linxia’s face turned crimson, and Xi Linxuan looked at her, equally bewildered. They stood there, both blushing, hearts racing.
Xi Linxuan examined Wei Linxia’s round face and noticed the shell necklace around her neck. His anger flared, his sword-like eyebrows furrowing.
“So ugly,” he spat.
Wei Linxia thought he was referring to her. Like any girl, she disliked being called ugly. Although not as beautiful as Tai Qing, she was far from ugly. Angered, she retorted sharply, “You don’t have to look.”
She bent down, ducked under his arm, and walked away, angry yet maintaining a steady gait. Xi Linxuan was left leaning against the table.
Back in her room, Wei Linxia rushed to the bronze mirror to examine her face. After a long look, Yu Mo approached and asked, “Miss, why are you looking in the mirror today?”
“My face feels a bit itchy. Checking if I have a rash,” she replied.
“Miss, your face is like a peeled egg. Where would there be a rash?” Yu Mo said, puzzled. When she mentioned this to the cook, it transformed into rumors that the miss had a rash and was hiding.
Past the first month, Wei Linxia was eager to see Lian Yi as her medical skills developed.
Entering the courtyard, she found Xi Zhaoting had already arrived, looking somewhat surprised to see her. Lian Yi seemed very happy. After a while, Xi Zhaoting left, and Wei Linxia administered acupuncture to Lian Yi while chatting.
“What were you laughing about?” Wei Linxia asked.
“His Highness mentioned you had a rash and couldn’t come to treat me recently. Just as he finished speaking, you walked in,” Lian Yi replied.
A rash? When did she get a rash?
Wei Linxia smiled helplessly: “Probably just a rumor.”
“Yes, some love to fabricate nonsense, some to spread it, and even more to hear it. Miss Wei, don’t take it to heart,” Lian Yi said.
“Why be bothered? Let them talk. They can’t conjure a rash on my face,” Wei Linxia said.
“Exactly right,” Lian Yi agreed.
Meanwhile, Tai Qing was sleeping soundly in the small wooden cabin outside the temple. Wei Linxia woke her up to clear away the withered grass and sow new flower seeds, aiming to prevent a desolate appearance in summer. Holding small wooden-handled hoes, they squatted under the warm sun, pulling weeds and turning the soil. Tai Qing asked why Wei Linxia didn’t enjoy the spring scenery, to which she replied that too many people could ruin it, so it was better to stay quietly here.
Tai Qing jokingly suggested to Wei Linxia, “Then why don’t you become a Taoist nun here at the temple? You’ll have flowers, cranes, peace, and can keep me company.” Wei Linxia felt emotional and replied, “If I could choose for myself, that would be wonderful.”
Suddenly, Tai Qing exclaimed, “Who’s spying? Come out!” A man in an old gray robe emerged from behind a tree. Wei Linxia recognized him as the man who had stayed in the wooden cabin that winter and left a silver ingot. The man’s gaze was fixed on Tai Qing, prompting her to scold, “Keep staring and I’ll gouge out your eyes.”
“Would the two immortal ladies please take me to see the temple master? I have a matter to inquire about,” he said. Tai Qing refused, “No.” Disappointment crossed the man’s face as he frowned.
“Benefactor, the temple master is not in the temple these days. Please come back in a few days,” Tai Qing said, sensing he didn’t mean any harm. Unlike other men, his expression reflected deep sorrow.
Tai Qing then pulled Wei Linxia away, leaving the ground only half-cleared.
Wei Linxia returned to the family mansion after two days in the mountains. Upon entering, she sensed something was wrong; the servants’ eyes were evasive.
When Wei Linxia visited her mother, she noticed through the window that her mother was speaking with a young woman, accompanied by children’s laughter in the background. Upon entering, she encountered an unfamiliar, refined woman who looked pale. A small child played on the bed, laughing happily. Wei Linxia found the chubby little one adorable and smiled.
“Mother, who is this?” she wondered, thinking the woman might be a relative.
The young woman stood, holding the child, and bowed slightly: “Greetings, young mistress.” This puzzled Wei Linxia. Her mother calmly introduced her: “Ji, the concubine, and her son, Feng Ye.”
The revelation stunned Wei Linxia. Ji was her father’s concubine and had given birth to a one-year-old son.
“Linxia, why are you standing there? Ask Ji to sit,” her mother urged.
Wei Linxia smiled stiffly and invited Ji to sit down. After a while, she claimed to have a headache and excused herself to consult Yu Mo. Although Yu Mo was initially hesitant, she ultimately explained the situation.
A few days prior, Ji had appeared with her child, claiming to be seriously ill and shared her history. She was originally a qin player from Feng Hua Lou and had met her tutor through music a year ago.
After giving birth to a son, she intended to raise him herself, but due to excessive bleeding, her health declined. Not wanting her child to become an orphan, she brought him to the mansion. Wei Linxia’s mother, feeling sympathy, took in both mother and child, granting her the title of concubine.
“Did my father acknowledge him?” Wei Linxia asked.
Yu Mo nodded, not daring to look at Wei Linxia. She waved her hand, telling them to leave.
Her mind was in turmoil. In childhood memories, her father had been strict, yet their love was evident. Even when the prince wanted to bestow two beautiful concubines, her father had refused. She had always been proud of him, but now, reality had struck hard.
A lifetime of love apparently only existed in poetry.