Yuan Xiao and its fox-dog partner seemed quite satisfied with their names.
Xiao Huang remained obsessively in love with the white peacock, losing feathers—a clear sign of lovesickness. I tried to bring it back, but it refused to eat and learned a melancholic love poem, leading to rumors in the palace that Princess Zhao Hua was suffering from lovesickness. I was at a loss and had to send it back.
My parents were doing well. Father had overcome his inner barrier and began studying Nanrui’s historical texts, finding new spiritual focus. One day, Hongdi chatted with my father, and they found compatibility, leading to long conversations and eventually appointing him as a reader in the royal study.
Mother was busy caring for Miao Yin, who was near childbirth. She and my brother had opened a restaurant in Feng Zhu City. Despite her large belly, Mother was constantly busy, making soups and medicines for Miao Yin and preparing clothes for the future grandchild. My younger sister, since returning to Nanrui, displayed signs of a maiden in love, frequently running out, much to Mother’s delight.
I began my duties in the Ministry of Revenue, rising at dawn for morning court and handling official business while seeking guidance from the deputy minister and colleagues, often without time to drink tea. Fortunately, most in the ministry belonged to Liu Hua’s faction and were welcoming, generously sharing their knowledge. This busy environment allowed me to earn a reputation for diligence and humility.
Recalling my days as an An family daughter-in-law, when I could sleep in and worry about nothing, felt like a distant dream. Exhausted and aching, I sometimes wondered how An Jin found time to care for me during such busy times.
My current capabilities were mostly supportive, and their respectful treatment stemmed from my Yu Wang title and Hongdi’s support, alongside the potential to become the future heir. I was aware of this and worked diligently to meet Hongdi’s expectations.
