Xu Qiu’er bit her lip to prevent tears from falling, tasting blood as she raised her head and said to Long Hanlie with a slight smile, “Indeed, this concubine is guilty. I failed to protect the young prince, who only glimpsed this world before perishing. I am incompetent.” Some palace maids began to cry, recalling that unforgettable day. Xu Qiu’er continued, “In a few days, Sister Qingya will enter the palace. What I could not do will be taken over by her in serving the crown prince.” She looked at Xu Qing’er’s mirthless mouth and added, “It’s quite a coincidence that both my sister and I have ‘Qing’ in our names. How will they distinguish us in the future?”
Xu Qing’er remembered her title was Qingfei, but the new arrival would also have ‘Qing’ in her name. The palace could not have two ladies called Qingfei, so one would inevitably be demoted. Xu Qing’er was furious; she had already been granted her title—how could it be given to someone else? Though she felt somewhat prepared, her heart felt blocked, suffocating her.
The crown prince’s wedding was approaching, and the palace buzzed with activity as the ten-mile bridal procession looked magnificent.
The bride would kowtow to the emperor the day before, with the wife-conferring ceremony to follow the next day. Hu Qingya, dressed in a pink gown, smiled softly while serving tea to Xu Qiu’er. Observing Hu Qingya, Xu Qiu’er thought that Qingya was extraordinary—not just beautiful, but captivating. “Xu Qing’er, you’ve met your match this time,” she mused.
“Please rise quickly, sister. Your courtesy might overwhelm me,” Xu Qiu’er said.
Hu Qingya was helped up and responded, “Sister entered the palace to serve the crown prince before me, so I should pay these respects.” Xu Qiu’er found herself fond of Qingya; the palace was stifling, with secrets, but this woman seemed pure. She held Hu Qingya’s hand warmly, saying, “Good sister, come visit me sometime so we can chat.”
