“Actually, what I’m most worried about isn’t the Seventh Princess, but rather Su Hui by her side,” I sighed, voicing my inner concerns.
Su Hui was the daughter of the Minister of Rites, Su Quan, with an elder brother named Su Xi, who also worked in the Ministry of Rites. Among the noble ladies of Yanfeng City, she was renowned for her beauty and elegance.
Of course, since that princess had escaped on her wedding night, she still had hope of becoming the consort of the Eastern Palace. However, from my years of keen observation, I feared she more desired to become an honorable wife.
Su Hui was neither as naive as Song Sitian nor as volatile as the Seventh Princess. She was well-read, with a broad knowledge of books, and her small-script calligraphy was particularly elegant, highly praised by Yanfeng’s literati. Moreover, she maintained an image of gentle refinement, understanding social boundaries perfectly, easily winning people’s favor. Many young gentlemen in Yanfeng were infatuated with her, and even the young master from the Minister of War’s household considered her a confidante, though she remained tantalizingly distant, inspiring unrequited longing.
Having such a beloved figure harboring feelings for my husband made me feel immense pressure. Although she hadn’t done anything overtly, she seemed like a hidden crisis, ready to erupt at any moment.
“You’re right,” Xue Miaoyin mused. “Su Hui is quite sophisticated. I’ve witnessed her skills several times.” She looked at me sympathetically. “With such a husband, you must have a hard time?”
I smiled and tossed a fennel seed into my mouth. “Competing with others is endlessly entertaining.”
I naturally had no objections. However, with his slow and obtuse nature, he truly needed someone to enlighten him.
On my way home, I stopped by my father-in-law’s study. The cold weather had slowed business, and several of his old friends were gathered around a charcoal brazier, brewing plum blossom wine. As I entered, I greeted each uncle and joined them, getting a cup of wine and placing a plate of packaged fennel seeds and salted peanuts for them to enjoy with their drink. The elderly gentlemen moved from the current turbulent political landscape to the recent marriage alliance between the Seventh Princess and Xiliang.
I immediately perked up my ears to listen carefully. Among these uncles were retired court officials, scholarly intellectuals, and wise men living quietly in the city, each with a unique perspective on the situation.
Da Qi, Xiliang, and Nanrui had historically maintained a balanced, triangular relationship, with comparable national strength, which had kept peace for hundreds of years. But in recent decades, tensions between Da Qi and Xiliang had escalated, eventually leading to war. Da Qi was defeated, losing several cities and even sending the Third Prince, Xia Zhichun, as a hostage.
In the conflict between Da Qi and Xiliang, Nanrui had maintained neutrality. However, both Da Qi and Xiliang hoped to draw Nanrui to their side. If two of these countries formed an alliance, the third would be at a significant disadvantage. In recent years, Qi had been working to improve communication with Nanrui, with Minister of Rites Su Quan even representing the Qi Emperor to Nanrui, requesting a marriage alliance.
Until a year ago, Nanrui finally agreed to marry the Fifth Princess to the Eastern Palace of Da Qi as the main wife. The Qi Emperor was overjoyed, promising that this princess would become empress upon the Eastern Palace’s ascension, demonstrating the intent of cooperation between Qi and Nanrui. But unexpectedly, this Nanrui princess escaped the imperial palace on her wedding night, disappearing without a trace.
This escape directly caused the already fragile alliance between the two countries to collapse. Although the princess escaped on her own, it happened within Qi’s borders, and Qi could not explain her whereabouts to Nanrui.
On the other hand, the princess’s escape brought shame to the Qi royal family, and the Qi Emperor could not lower himself to apologize to Nanrui. The relationship between the two countries became deadlocked.
Xiliang was undoubtedly the greatest beneficiary. Originally in difficulty, Xiliang now became the object of courtship from both Nanrui and Qi. Therefore, when the new Xiliang Emperor proposed a marriage alliance with Qi, the Qi Emperor could not refuse and was eager to marry off all his daughters.
“So the Seventh Princess’s marriage to Xiliang today is entirely due to the Nanrui princess’s escape a year ago,” my father-in-law sighed. “A single move can affect the entire situation.”
I was stunned. My impulsive act of releasing the Eastern Palace’s new consort, the Nanrui princess, had such a severe impact on Qi, ultimately leading to the Seventh Princess being married to Xiliang. Although I didn’t have good feelings toward the Seventh Princess, as a Qi citizen, I couldn’t help but feel guilty and remorseful for inadvertently causing national damage.
The fact that I hadn’t been severely punished for such a significant mistake was surely because An Jin had shouldered all the blame for me. Yet he had never detailed the implications to me, nor had he reproached me.
I was overcome with shame.
Among my father-in-law’s friends was a doctor, surnamed Liu, over sixty years old and extremely skilled in medicine. He glanced at me and, noticing my poor complexion, quickly asked, “Arao, you don’t look well. Are you feeling unwell?”
I quickly shook my head. Father-in-law laughed and said: “Ah Yao probably doesn’t like hearing these things.”
Doctor Liu laughed and stroked his beard, saying: “That makes sense. Speaking of which, Ah Yao and his wife have been married for over two years, so why haven’t they had any good news? Ah Yao, why don’t I take your pulse and have a look?”
My heart stirred. Previously, when we were sleeping in separate rooms, it was natural not to get pregnant. But since reconciling with An Jin, we’ve been intimate almost every night, and calculating the time, it’s been more than half a year with no sign of pregnancy.
Doctor Liu felt my pulse and pondered for a moment: “Ah Yao’s health is very good.”
Father-in-law immediately asked: “Does that mean the problem is with Jin’er?”
Several old masters burst into laughter, and father-in-law’s face turned red. “You guys, instead of helping, you’re making fun of us?”
I lowered my head and suppressed my laughter, thinking about how An Jin would react if he knew his father was doubting his ability to continue the family line.
Doctor Liu thought for a moment, found some paper and brush, wrote a few prescriptions, and quietly handed them to me: “These are some dietary recipes to nourish qi and essence. Give them to An Jin daily, it will definitely help.”
I blushed and accepted them. “Thank you, Uncle Liu.”
Chapter Twenty-One: Powerless
An Jin was reviewing documents in the study while I crouched in the kitchen watching the dragon-horse young chicken stew, ensuring no ingredients were missed before putting the recipe away and adding two pieces of firewood.
The reason for secretly hiding here to stew the soup was just to be a good wife, absolutely not for having a child, absolutely not!
“Ah Yao?” Someone pushed open the kitchen door and walked in. “Just as I thought.”
I was startled, almost dropping the clay pot lid. “Father-in-law?”
Father-in-law walked in, looked at the stew on the stove, and understood immediately: “Ah Yao has worked hard.”
I felt embarrassed and asked why he was here. He simply said mother-in-law didn’t sleep well, and he came to brew some calming soup for her to soak her feet.
Probably due to exhaustion, father-in-law’s face looked slightly dark. I rushed to help, but he insisted on doing it himself, only letting me help organize the medicinal herbs.
