The plum blossom that Mei Heting exchanged with a jade belt suddenly became a joke.

Xuan Mingzhu, perched high on her horse, had a slender and graceful posture, like a newly sprouted dianthus bud.

She joyfully adorned her carved saddle with a peach blossom that had traveled a thousand miles through dusty roads, as a decorative touch.

From beginning to end, she did not spare him a single glance.

However, the friends behind the princess cast various looks at Mei Heting.

They seemed puzzled.

Wasn’t everyone praising Mei, the prince consort, for his exceptional talents?

How could he not even know his wife’s preferences?

Some were also displeased with him, feeling he wasn’t a good match for their leader.

They thought a separation might be for the best, but they still couldn’t help but feel indignant on their leader’s behalf.

Mei Heting, too, was the favored son of heaven.

Growing up in Jiangnan, he had always been adored and surrounded by admirers.

He had never before been subjected to such peculiar gazes.

When Emperor Jinming bestowed the imperial marriage decree all those years ago, except for Yan Huai’s fierce objection, no one else had troubled him.

Now, upon reflection, Xuan Mingzhu was born of noble lineage, showered with love and admiration, with no shortage of suitors and admirers.

Even if no rivals came to challenge the marriage decree, how could her closest friends not seek to inquire or test him?

It must have been Xuan Mingzhu who kept them away.

She feared her friends might say something offensive that would upset him, and in this quiet way, she protected him.

He never knew.

For all these years, he had taken their peaceful and carefree life for granted.

“Your Highness.” Mei Heting’s pale fingers tightened around the plum branch, the flesh beneath distorted, and his voice was strained. “I have something I want to say to you.”

Xuan Mingzhu acted as if she hadn’t heard him, turning her head and cheerfully calling to her companions, “Shall we head out of the palace to welcome Xiao Huai back?”

“Let’s go! We’ll follow the Princess!” At her command, a chorus of agreement followed.

“Your Highness!” Seeing that she was about to leave him behind, Mei Heting’s throat tightened, and he took a step forward, calling out once more.

Xuan Mingzhu glanced down and casually asked, “Is this flower for me?”

Seeing him nod stiffly, she smiled and said, “White plum blossoms are known for their proud elegance, but unfortunately, in the bright spring and summer, without frost or snow, they lose their splendor. A bit untimely, don’t you think? Let’s go!”

With a sweep of hooves, her group rode past Mei Heting and galloped towards the palace gates.

At the head of the group, dressed in red, her hair glistening green in the light, her slender yet resilient waist swayed with the motion of the horse.

There was no sign that she was the mother of a five-year-old child.

Her graceful figure was like a fleeting glimpse of a celestial being.

Mei Heting had rarely seen her ride with such abandon.

He himself had no love for such vigorous pursuits, preferring the quiet life, which had, in turn, gradually changed her after their marriage.

She had come to dwell quietly at home.

And yet, here she was, in riding gear, exuding a rare and peerless grace.

In the past, she had always been the one to watch him leave.

But this time, it was he who stood, gazing after her, unwilling to look away.

But the palace walls, tall and imposing, easily blocked his view.

For the first time, Mei Heting’s calm heart, like a still pond, felt as if countless stones had been cast into it, creating ripples, deep and shallow.

He couldn’t bear the thought of those stones sinking into the water and disappearing, nor could he bear the sight of those ripples drifting farther away, without returning.

After a brief pause, he dropped the plum blossom and turned back towards the Hall of Two Rites.

“Did Yan Huai really bring peach blossoms from southern Fujian all the way back to present to the imperial aunt?”

In the Hall of Two Rites, the emperor asked with a hint of amusement.

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” replied Huang Fuquan, the imperial supervisor. “This General Yan—imagine, returning to the capital and not presenting himself to Your Majesty first, but instead heading straight for the Princess!”

Though Huang’s words were reproachful, he couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes, knowing how much the emperor favored young General Yan.

“The palace guards reported that the Princess has now taken them all outside the palace for a drink.” He then mentioned the situation with Prince Mei as well.

“Hmph.” At the mention of that name, the emperor’s expression darkened.

He had no sympathy for the man, and if he continued to meddle, the emperor wouldn’t be able to help him.

Suddenly, a guard came to report that the assistant minister, Mei, was waiting outside to see him.

The emperor coldly uttered two words: “Not seeing!”

Huang Fuquan, keeping his eyes lowered in obedience, observed all in silence.

Even a servant like him could see things clearly.

How could Prince Mei not understand?

The Princess loved plum blossoms only because her husband’s surname was Mei (meaning “plum”).

If his surname had been Lan (meaning “orchid”), she would have loved orchids.

If it had been Zhu (meaning “bamboo”), she would have loved bamboo instead.

Plum blossoms are proud and solitary?

Ha!

Who could be prouder than the most honored and beloved woman of the three generations of the Great Jin Dynasty?

The man standing upright at the foot of the steps heard the imperial guard’s difficult words, saying the emperor would not see him.

His pale lips, already drained of color, became even more ashen.

---

The stars hung low, and the lanterns were just being lit.

Xinghua Alley, filled with taverns and entertainment houses, was bustling with activity after nightfall.

At Yichun Music Hall, a string of large red lanterns hung from the colorful tower.

Inside the hall, exotic Hu dancers performed the Hu Xuan Dance to liven up the atmosphere, their ankles wrapped in red silk with silver bells tied around them, producing a constant ringing sound.

The guests’ laughter was endless.

On the second floor, in a spacious private room, nearly ten young lords and ladies sat around a table covered with mats.

They knocked on bowls and cups with ivory chopsticks while playing a drinking game accompanied by the pipa.

“Come on, be reasonable. Cups and bowls still cost money to buy,” said Yang Kezhi, moving swiftly with both hands as she served four new dishes of fresh fruits and dried meats.

She then opened two jars of ten-year-old wine, mockingly supporting Fu Fangfang, who had slumped onto Lin Xingshou’s lap.

“Look at how wild you all are. Don’t tell me you plan on abandoning your homes and properties tomorrow? It’s all His Highness’ doing!”

“Blame me?” Xuan Mingzhu’s eyes sparkled with amusement, her phoenix-like eyes shimmering as the alcohol gave them a glowing luster.

Her eyes, as if brushed with rouge, bore two faint red streaks at the corners as she pointed carelessly.

“Hey, take a look at the wine jars in front of little Huai and then say that. This little drunkard couldn’t get any of Luoyang’s fine wine at the border, so he came to me to freeload.”

The crowd burst into laughter, reminiscent of the wild, carefree days they once shared.

“Big Sister,” Yan Huai appeared drunk, but his eyes were as bright as stars.

He gazed at the delicate white finger in front of him, his wrist moving forward slightly before he held back.

He immersed her face in the depths of his attentive gaze and softly asked, “Why don’t you call me Zi Bai anymore?”

Li Mengjing coughed jealously, and Xuan Mingzhu laughed at the question.

In the past, Yan Huai was reckless and unruly, known for holding his liquor well.

At every banquet, he would drink beyond count, so she playfully gave him the nickname “Zi Bai” (wild drunk).

Their group of friends quickly caught on, and soon, “Yan Zi Bai” became a common name.

“Zi Bai, was life hard on the border?” Xuan Mingzhu asked as she sipped her drink.

Yan Huai nodded, then shook his head. “The cold moon shines on the desolate city walls, and the vast expanse is silent. In the depths of the endless night, when it feels like it will never end, it is hard. But when I look down and see the person in my heart, the sweetness and warmth make me forget the hardship.”

Xuan Mingzhu was silent for a while, then smiled and said, “Now that you’re finally back, the Duke and Duchess of England can finally set their minds at ease. You should settle down, marry a wife, and continue your family line.”

Yan Huai froze in the middle of pouring wine for his sister.

She knew everything.

She knew why, after hearing about her marriage all those years ago, he had caused a great scene before running off to the southern frontier.

Yan Huai had never hidden anything from her.

When he was fourteen, he had declared with conviction, “Sister, don’t marry anyone else. No one in the world will treat you as well as Zi Bai does. Please wait for me three more years, just three, and Zi Bai will marry you!”

But she had only patted his head and laughed, calling him a child.

Suddenly, Yan Huai grabbed her jade finger, as if afraid a precious treasure would slip away before his eyes.

His lips and nose, scented with alcohol, moved closer to the face he thought of day and night.

A torrent of emotions surged in his eyes.

“Sister, I’m back. I’ve grown up now.”

Xuan Mingzhu sighed inwardly: But your sister is about to die.

The sincerity in a young man’s heart is the most touching, and she could not deny she was moved.

However, she had always treated little Huai as a younger brother and could never mislead him.

With a smile, she gently withdrew her hand, pushing aside the head with its loose locks of hair, and pressed it face-down onto the pearwood table. “You’re drunk.”

“Hahaha, the mighty General of the South can’t hold his liquor anymore!” Feng Zhen cheerfully shouted, prompting another round of laughter from the group.

---

At this moment, the Grand Princess’ residence was cold and quiet.

There was no light in the main hall, and a solitary figure stood in the darkened room.

His fingertips lightly brushed the edge of the dressing table.

He didn’t need light to know that it was carved with a pattern of magpies and plum blossoms.

Her makeup mirror was adorned with a design of red plums and twin cranes.

Her hairpin was a jeweled gold piece shaped like plum blossoms.

The cups and washbasins she always used were decorated with a pattern of ice plums and blue-and-white porcelain branches.

Even the small screen on the bedside table was embroidered with a design of pine trees, plum blossoms, and white cranes.

This led Mei Heting to always believe that Xuan Mingzhu was deeply fond of plum blossoms.

It turns out, she wasn’t.

She simply loved him.

Earlier, he returned to the residence to find Granny Cui, hoping to ask the elderly woman more about Xuan Mingzhu’s preferences.

But Granny Cui didn’t say much; instead, she shed tears in front of him.

She said, “Ever since I followed Her Highness out of the palace, I have been waiting for the prince to ask this question. I never thought it would take seven years. Now, it no longer matters.”

In the dim room, Mei Heting clenched the corner of the sandalwood table so tightly that his palm ached, and his entire arm trembled from the pain.

But no one asked him if it hurt.

No one shared a meal with him, and no one lit the lamps for him.

In the silent, empty residence of the Princess, it felt as though only he remained.

He recalled the early days of their marriage, when he was still young and proud.

Living in the “Princess’s Residence” instead of “Mei’s Residence” felt like a violation of the male household hierarchy.

Every time he left or entered the residence, he had felt uneasy.

But as time went on and he entered his official duties, no matter how late he returned home, there were always lights waiting for him and a figure inside the house.

Gradually, he had grown accustomed to it.

At that time, he had been too busy, unlike other prince consorts who held honorary titles and could indulge in leisurely days spent with their wives.

He had his ambitions and thought that once he had more free time, he could always accompany her then.

But the stable, well-planned life he had grown used to was upended overnight.

The image of Xuan Mingzhu and that young heir riding a horse together, so close, gnawed at his heart like a broken-down hut battered by icy winds.

The chill permeated his bones, making him ache deeply.

The bond and understanding they shared resembled that of a true married couple far more than he ever did with her.

Mei Heting had always been calm and composed, but there was only one time in his life when he felt at a complete loss: the day Xuan Mingzhu gave birth.

Now, that same sense of impending loss returned, urging him to seek something, anything, that could prove Xuan Mingzhu’s love for him.

Suddenly, Mei Heting remembered a place. Without hesitation, he rushed out the door.

But when he reached the east wing garden, he paused, hesitating.

A plaque hung over the garden’s entrance, carved in white stone, with three characters: Mei Heting.

Xuan Mingzhu had built a garden, Mei Heting, for her husband.

The garden was home to snow-feathered cranes and countless rare varieties of plum trees, including the Jade Butterfly from the imperial garden and a wild plum tree brought from the far northern plains, which bloomed for three seasons.

He hadn’t liked it back then.

He thought this extravagant display was no different from the foolish emperors of old building palaces for their concubines and lighting beacons for their amusement.

It was a frivolous gesture, wasting manpower and resources, with no real purpose.

So, over the years, he had only visited the garden a handful of times.

He assumed that once Xuan Mingzhu grew tired of it, the garden would be abandoned. But to his surprise, everything was well cared for.

Compared to this, what were a few peach blossoms brought back by Yan Huai from the southern provinces?

Xuan Mingzhu had poured a thousandfold more thought and care into him.

—It was he who had taken it all for granted.

A sharp pain throbbed in Mei Heting’s chest.

Perhaps, he had liked it all along, but his male pride refused to admit that he wanted a woman’s affection this much.

The suppressed breaths of the man in the plum garden were like turbulent waters beneath a frozen surface.

Years ago, Xuan Mingzhu had brought him here with great joy, her expression shifting from excitement to bewilderment, and finally to a dim sadness.

The scene resurfaced in his mind like breaking through ice.

He had seen her change back then, and he had felt a pang of guilt.

But that guilt had been drowned out by his irritation, and he had never softened his words.

Now, standing before the withered branches, he felt as though he could see how a heart full of expectations had gradually withered.

Suddenly, the man turned to leave.

“Thud!” Something bumped into his leg and fell with a small yelp.

“Bao Ya?” Mei Heting’s heart tightened.

In the dim light, he quickly lifted the child, his voice hoarse, “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No, no, it doesn’t hurt,” Bao Ya replied, jumping up cheerfully and wrapping her arms around her father.

She looked up at him with excitement.

“Mother told Yingshao sister to tell me that she’s going to play in the palace for a few days. Hmph, she didn’t even take me with her. Good thing I have you to play hide-and-seek with!”

Suppressing the bitterness in his heart, Mei Heting crouched down and embraced her. “I’ll bring your mother home.”

But Bao Ya shook her head, “No need. I’ll be good. I understand. You and mother both have your own things to do and your own feelings. You can’t always play with me. You need time for yourselves too.”

Hearing her innocent words, Mei Heting’s throat tightened even more. “You’re my good little girl.”

Pleased with the praise, Bao Ya swayed with pride.

Suddenly, she remembered something and carefully took out a few folded paper cutouts from her treasure pouch.

Under the faint moonlight, her eyes twinkled like stars. “Dad, can you help me give these to mother? Tell her that I’ve been good these past few days, but…I miss her just a little.”

The paper cutouts were of peach blossoms.

Mei Heting’s eyes reddened, and he could no longer hold back his emotions.