Chapter 23: A Day at the Mountain Villa

Two days later, the Regent Prince and his consort departed from the Kingdom of Ji. The palace, bustling for two days, returned to its former tranquility—at least, the Palace of Anxue once again grew quiet.

Xuěxuě felt as though a piece of her heart was missing, perhaps influenced by the forthright young woman she had just met. Though they had only spent three days together, an inexplicable sadness lingered within her. Life in the palace had been smooth and peaceful of late, yet beneath this ease, she could not help but feel a hollow emptiness, sometimes drifting into aimless reverie.

“Mother, what’s wrong with you?” Little Xī’er gently shook Xuěxuě’s leg, her large, dark eyes gazing curiously at her mother’s unusual state. Her small hands gripped with determination.

“What is it, Xī’er?” Xuěxuě snapped back to herself, only then realizing she had been daydreaming again.

“Mother, you look as if your soul has wandered away. There’s not a bit of… well, not a bit of spirit in you. It makes me so worried.” Xī’er pouted, looking at Xuěxuě with a touch of grievance, her bright eyes reflecting Xuěxuě’s faintly puzzled expression.

“As if my soul has wandered away? It seems your eloquence has grown, Xī’er. Such thoughtful words.” Xuěxuě smiled and tapped her daughter’s forehead, silently reproaching herself for her odd behavior.

“Hehe, does Mother really think so? Am I not wonderful? What reward do I get, then?” Xī’er cocked her head, her eyes curving like crescent moons, her words far too clever for her age.

“So you want a reward, do you? What if Father takes you out of the palace—how about that for a reward?”

When an emperor speaks, action follows; so it was in this case. Soon enough, dressed in plain clothes, they found themselves outside the palace, riding in a carriage.

Xuěxuě felt the liveliness of the bustling streets, the simplicity and cheer infusing the air. Even her heart was soothed by the atmosphere, and she found herself at peace.

The market stalls overflowed with novel and curious items, things never seen within the palace walls.

“Mother, it’s so lively out here!” Xī’er sat on Xuěxuě’s lap, her wide eyes darting about in curiosity.

With one small hand, she lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, marveling at the scenes outside. Her hair was tied into two round buns atop her head, and she wore a simple pink tunic—she looked just like any neighbor’s child.

“Xī’er, since we’re out of the palace, you mustn’t call me ‘Mother Empress,’” Xuěxuě reminded her.

“Yes, Mother,” Xī’er replied smartly, immediately correcting herself.

“That’s better.” Xuěxuě nodded approvingly, then turned her attention to the vibrant street, a smile forming on her lips. “It truly feels like a scene of prosperity. Our king must be wise in his governance.”

She wore a white dress, plain and elegant. In her hair was a single jade hairpin adorned with white blossoms, her long hair draping smoothly over her shoulders, making her look every bit the gentle young woman from a neighboring household.

“To hear such praise from you, my dear, took no small effort on my part,” Ji Wu Qing said as he leaned his head on his hand, sitting opposite her, his handsome face alight with satisfaction.

He wore a blue robe with a white sash tying back his hair, a folding fan never leaving his hand—he looked every inch the graceful young gentleman.

“Candied hawthorn! Sweet candied hawthorn!” The vendor’s cry rang out as the carriage passed by, clear and distinct amidst the crowd.

“Candied hawthorn?” Xuěxuě murmured softly, almost to herself.

“Miao Jian,” Ji Wu Qing called quietly to the outside.

In no time, several skewers of candied hawthorn were brought to them. Xuěxuě was almost immune to Ji Wu Qing’s thoughtfulness by now, so she was not surprised.

Each fruit was plump and glistening, sparkling with a crystalline sheen.

“Wow, what’s this?” Xī’er exclaimed as if she had discovered a new world, her eyes full of wonder as she gazed at the candied hawthorn.

“It’s candied hawthorn. Made from a fruit called hawthorn—good for your digestion and appetite. You may have plenty, Xī’er.” The sweet fragrance of the treat wafted through the air, and Xuěxuě spoke with authority.

“Yes, I’ll listen to Mother and eat more,” Xī’er replied mischievously, licking her lips and looking every bit the greedy child.

“Oh? How is it you know about this?” Ji Wu Qing looked at her with a deeper meaning, his gaze probing.

“I only heard of it from the maids when I was young, never actually tasted it,” Xuěxuě replied warily. Ji Wu Qing had probably dug up every detail of her past, even the most trivial things.

“Ah! It’s so sour…” Xī’er’s little face scrunched up, her eyes squeezed shut in an exaggerated expression.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to eat more?” Xuěxuě teased her, prompting Xī’er to plead at once, “Please, Mother, spare me! It’s so sour my teeth hurt. Don’t eat it either, Mother.” Xī’er began her roundabout tactics, thoughtfully trying to dissuade Xuěxuě.

“Give it to me, you little imp.” Xuěxuě, of course, saw through her daughter’s tricks, but Xī’er immediately beamed, “Mother, let me feed you!”

The tangy sweetness burst on her tongue, making Xuěxuě squint with pleasure. The sourness was not intolerable; in fact, it was a flavor she had long missed—a favorite little treat from days gone by.

Ji Wu Qing watched her, a smile curving her lips in satisfaction over something as simple as candied hawthorn. Seeing that, he could not help but smile himself.

The carriage traveled through a quiet, hidden mountain forest, birdsong accompanying them, echoing near and far under layers of green leaves.

After an indeterminate time, a manor appeared among the hills, built against the mountain with green hills and clear waters as its backdrop—a scene of untouched natural beauty.

When their carriage arrived at the manor, servants who had been waiting stepped forward to greet them. “Master, we are here to welcome you and Madam as ordered.”

The manor was designed in a style both ancient and elegant, with five floors and two courtyards, its trees layered upon one another, giving the not-so-lavish estate the illusion of being shrouded in rain and mist, indistinct to the eye.

“Mother, look! This place is amazing!” Little Xī’er, her spirits soaring, could not contain herself once a servant set her down from the carriage—she dashed off into the manor, disappearing from sight.

“Xī’er…” Xuěxuě could only let her go, unable to stop her.

“It doesn’t matter, Xuě’er. There are fewer restrictions out here,” Ji Wu Qing said as he stood beside the carriage, lifting Xuěxuě down and taking her hand as they walked inside.

The mountains were blissfully serene, with the faint sound of running water in the distance, as clear as the notes of a zither.

“My lord… Husband?” Xuěxuě tested her words, keeping a low profile outside the palace.

“Hmm?” Ji Wu Qing was clearly pleased with her form of address, his smile growing softer. “Xuě’er, you could call me Wu Qing, too, you know.”

“So, are you planning for us to stay here the night? The air is indeed wonderful, but it’s rather far from the palace, isn’t it?” Xuěxuě inhaled the natural fragrance all around her, happiness filling her heart. She was thoroughly satisfied with his sudden arrangement.

Yet she could not help but feel a twinge of worry.

“Is your mood lightened now, Xuě’er? Seeing your gloom these past days has been hard for me,” Ji Wu Qing said, squeezing her hand, his tone slightly playful.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, my lord. I feel much better now.” Xuěxuě responded openly, no longer feeling awkward. Could it be that he brought her here just for her sake?

“That’s good.”

They had only just stepped into the inner courtyard when a voice reached them. “Wu Qing, is that you? It’s a rare thing for you to come dragging your family along like this.” There was warmth and a hint of teasing in the gentle voice.

In the courtyard stood a woman, her face kind and gentle. She wore a simple gray dress, her long hair coiled atop her head, secured by a wooden hairpin. The pin was extraordinary, carved with the image of a phoenix, exquisite and lifelike.

This simple adornment lent an air of tranquil beauty to her.

She was surrounded by the scent of ink, practicing calligraphy. Her script was bold and vigorous, full of spirit—a contrast to the softness of her features.

“Have you been well, Mother? Forgive me for arriving late,” Ji Wu Qing said, his tone a blend of respect and casual affection.

He led Xuěxuě closer, seeming to admire the woman’s calligraphy.

“You’re just in time. Come, give me your opinion.”

“Mother, there’s no need for modesty. Father praised your calligraphy highly in his day,” he replied, implying there was nothing he could critique.

Xuěxuě listened in silence, curiosity growing. This woman whom Ji Wu Qing called ‘Mother’ must be someone from the palace—could she be his nursemaid?

The woman regarded Xuěxuě unobtrusively: a quiet young lady, her features clear and pure, untouched by worldly dust. Such a clean presence—she must surely have been chosen by Wu Qing himself.

“So, you are Xuěxuě, the one Wu Qing has chosen. You are pleasing to the eye, but what of your talent?” The woman’s cool voice reached Xuěxuě’s ears, her expression gentle, but her words carried weight.

“Greetings, Madam. I am Xuěxuě. What instruction do you have for me?” Xuěxuě felt a flicker of doubt but did not show it. She nodded gracefully, making no display of her status as queen.

“At least you know proper manners,” the woman noted inwardly, and seeing Xuěxuě’s composure, she decided to test her further. “You have long, beautiful fingers—very elegant. But I wonder if your calligraphy is as bold and refined as your hands suggest. Why not show us now? What do you say?”

“You’re too kind, Madam. I would not presume to decline.” Xuěxuě replied serenely, though she could not help but sigh inwardly. Elders are always the same…

She recalled her first meeting with the current Empress Dowager—it, too, had involved a test.

She took up the brush, her slender fingers wrapping deftly around the handle, displaying both elegance and command.

She set the brush to the rice paper with swift precision, the bold ink blooming across the page. Her strokes were quick, unhesitating, decisive.

As the brush lifted, the black ink still glistened wetly.

Upon the white paper, a single character—“plum”—stood out in all its strength and grace, both gentle and bold.

“There seem to be plum trees planted in this courtyard. Since it is not yet their season, allow me to gift you the character for ‘plum’ as a token of my regard. Please, I welcome your critique,” Xuěxuě said calmly, her poise inspiring instant goodwill.

“Wu Qing, just look at your taste… to have found such a remarkable woman,” the woman said with a genuine smile, her affection clear. “Xuě’er, let me call you that. No need to stand on ceremony—call me Mother, just as Wu Qing does.”

“Yes, Mother.” Xuěxuě replied as instructed, without a hint of awkwardness.

“I dare not take credit. It is Xuě’er who has brought me nothing but pleasant surprises,” Ji Wu Qing said, gazing at Xuěxuě’s steady composure. She had astonished him, time and again, revealing ever more facets of herself.