What kind of reason was this? He had clearly explained he wasn’t calling her ugly, but the shell necklace.
“I’ll do this!” Wei Lindong squinted, clasping her hands to her chest in a drunken pose, “When Xi Linxuan makes me angry, I’ll stick him full of needles and remove them only after his anger subsides!”
“Why is that?” It seemed she still harbored resentment towards him.
“Said I’m ugly…” Wei Lindong touched her face, “Fortune-tellers said I have a hibiscus face with a peony fate, hmph!”
Hearing this, Xi Linxuan laughed. After all, his Princess Consort hated being called ugly. He had inadvertently offended her with one slip of the tongue. The next morning, Wei Lindong apparently forgot everything from the night before, leaving Xi Linxuan with no way to settle accounts.
However, Wei Lindong hadn’t forgotten everything; she remembered Xi Linxuan’s slightly lame left leg and asked him about it. He raised an eyebrow and said, “Didn’t I tell you I’m already moving freely?”
The Rong Kingdom’s ruler finally summoned them. For Xi Linxuan in a wheelchair, he showed disdain, slightly curling his lip and asking the Fourth Prince to look after them.
Tuo Bujing’s temper was still good, unlike the haughty court officials.
He was polite, reminiscent of a scholar from the Yan Dynasty. However, the ruler’s contempt had a drawback: those not valued had more freedom, like their rarely visited courtyard, comfortable even in the cold winter.
Xi Linxuan and Tuoba Jingshen’s relationship seemed to improve, with the prince occasionally visiting and sharing good wine while playing chess in the study. Although Wei Linxia knew about these visits, she felt uncomfortable asking about them.
Despite the harsh winter, their days were pleasant, offering a sense of seclusion in the mountains away from worldly affairs. Wei Linxia sometimes fantasized that life could always be like this, though deep down she knew it was unrealistic.
Her fantasy was shattered when the harsh frontier land showed signs of spring. On the day she was sewing an inner garment for Xi Linxuan, she suddenly heard alarming sounds of clashing armor outside. Her hand trembled slightly as she steadied herself, put down her sewing, and ordered the palace maid to open the door.
In the courtyard, soldiers stood with spears along the corridor and by the door.
Seeing this scene, the palace maids huddled in panic behind the door, afraid to make a sound.
“Where is the prince?” Wei Linxia asked, somewhat afraid but knowing this was not a time for fear. As a hostage, such treatment was expected.
“We… we don’t know,” a palace maid stammered. “It seems Fengchou gongong said he saw Wang daren.” Though they were from the Eastern Palace, they were now in a foreign land and vulnerable.
“Oh, that’s fine,” Wei Linxia retreated to her room and sat down, continuing to sew her garment unhurriedly. If one did not look closely, one would hardly notice her hand was slightly shaking.
The military siege lasted a full month. During this time, the courtyard grass turned green, and flowers in the room began to bud. Wei Linxia finished her inner garment and sewed a pair of single boots. However, they were not allowed outside the inner courtyard, and she spent nights unable to sleep, never seeing Xi Linxuan return.
Gradually, despair began to grow in Wei Linxia’s heart, not due to potential danger but because she could not see Xi Linxuan. She took out the rosewood box he had preserved and carefully examined the wax figurine, wondering how many days it had taken him to craft something so exquisite.
A tear fell on the wax figure’s face, slowly rolling down its cheek.
This person, who buried his feelings deep in his heart, was the husband heaven had bestowed upon her. They had drunk the nuptial wine and tied their fate for a lifetime. Now, she wondered if they would grow old together… If not, would they meet by the Naihe Bridge in the next world?
“Princess…”
Hearing the palace maid’s voice, Wei Linxia quickly wiped away her tears and put the box away. “What is it?”
“It’s time for the evening meal,” the maid said.
The meal was a food box brought by soldiers, containing four small dishes and a bowl of rice, though today it was a thick, hard flatbread that hurt her teeth. Wei Linxia broke the bread and soaked it in the soup. As she broke it, she noticed a small scroll. Carefully looking around, she quickly unfolded it, revealing four characters: Safe, Do Not Worry.
These words calmed Wei Linxia’s heart, and she ate more than usual. Inspired by these words, she felt she had many things to do, including making a new set of clothes for Xi Linxuan, who must have suffered and could no longer wear his current clothes.
As it was spring, she sewed him a robe, incorporating the safety charm Master Xu had instructed her to bring since childhood, hoping to bless him with lifelong peace.
The weather had warmed, prompting Wei Linxia to have the palace maids open the doors and windows to let in fresh air, as the room had developed a musty smell over winter.
That day, while tying the last knot on the robe, she heard Fengchou’s joyful voice calling from outside: “Princess, Princess!”
Wei Linxia bit off the thread, stood up, and spread out the robe. It looked neat. Hearing Fengchou’s footsteps approach, she said, “Walk slowly, the ground is slippery. Be careful not to fall.”
“The prince has returned, the prince has returned!” Fengchou ran in, still wearing the same clothes from a month ago.
In her eagerness, she dismissed the attendants and had only those she was comfortable with remain, feeling they should not be in the room alone with the prince.
“Why are you standing there? The water is getting cold. What’s to be done?”
She helped him remove his outer and inner garments, her face flushed. Awkwardly, she glanced at his broad back in the tub, feeling it improper, and quickly looked away.
“Rub my back.”
With her heart racing, she obliged with the towel, trying to keep her gaze down.
“Softly,” he said unexpectedly.
“Sorry!”
“Be firmer; you’re not swatting a fly.”
She continued wiping his back, her hands moving carefully down his shoulders when he suddenly pulled her towards him, leaving her nearly pressed against him.
“I have water in my name too,” he said suddenly.
“Hmm? What?”
She said that everyone else had a courtesy name, but she had never known his.
“Qiushui,” Xuan said softly, seeming to find it inelegant. Qiushui… this name was indeed too obvious, seeming to lack imposing manner and appearing somewhat girlish.
“When I was born, the Emperor was on a pleasure boat with his concubines. One of the concubines casually composed a line of poetry: ‘Xuan looks afar, autumn water like blue,’ and the Emperor casually bestowed this courtesy name upon me. That concubine didn’t say ‘window looks afar,’ otherwise it would have been awful,” Xuan’s tone was very casual, with a hint of self-deprecation.
With her hand on his shoulder, hearing him say this, she felt a pang of sadness in her heart.
Her mother often said that before she and her brother were born, their father would always flip through books and examine scrolls in his study, researching many characters, and then discuss them with their mother, only deciding on their courtesy names when they reached their full month of age. Although a courtesy name might not represent anything, and although she knew Xuan was not favored, she hadn’t expected it to be like this from childhood.
That high and mighty Emperor hadn’t paid much attention to him from birth, and was even too lazy to spend even a little effort to give him a courtesy name.
Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face against Xuan’s: “Qiushui is very nice, my name is Chenbi, without water, the bi jade would have nowhere to sink.”
