A few months ago, when Qing State began constructing a dam upstream along the river, the downstream kingdom of Donglin immediately grew anxious and took the initiative to extend goodwill toward Qing State. To demonstrate their sincerity in submission, Donglin even sent their own princess as a gesture of allegiance.
Now, as winter approaches, the Princess Donglin has journeyed across mountains and rivers, and in two days, she will arrive in Yanjing City. Shen Wei, who oversees the imperial harem, naturally must prepare accommodations for the princess. If the princess proves to be a formidable figure, Shen Wei would have to carefully put her in her place.
"Rank?" Li Yuanjing raised an eyebrow. "I’ve already said I won’t bring her into the harem."
Shen Wei narrowed her beautiful eyes, skepticism written across her face. "This concubine doesn’t believe Your Majesty’s words. The Princess Donglin is charming, intelligent, and lovely. If Your Majesty sees her, your heart might just fly away."
Li Yuanjing set down the harem layout map he was holding and pinched Shen Wei’s slightly thinner cheek. "Why do I detect a hint of jealousy in those words?"
Shen Wei let out a soft huff.
Under the dim glow of palace lanterns, her face was as radiant as a hibiscus flower, her eyes lively and bright.
Li Yuanjing gazed at her, captivated, and before he knew it, the words slipped out: "You are enough for me."
Time had sifted away the unnecessary, and now, Li Yuanjing truly felt content. He had Shen Wei, children, a prosperous kingdom, and peace in the harem. Bringing in a princess from a rival state would only invite turmoil.
Shen Wei was unlike any other woman—she matched him in body and soul, their spirits resonating as one. Even more precious was the vibrant energy she carried, breathing life into the otherwise stifling harem. She filled a void in his heart, and he wanted for nothing more.
Shen Wei blushed, visibly moved. "This concubine is also content with Your Majesty."
They shared a smile.
As night fell, they dined together.
Shen Wei didn’t take Li Yuanjing’s words to heart. A man’s promises were to be heard, not necessarily believed.
Later, in the quiet of the night, the gentle glow of candles cast a warm light over the bed curtains. On the bed, Li Yuanjing held Shen Wei’s hand, unwilling to let go.
Her hand was delicate and fair, her palm warm. Li Yuanjing sighed, a trace of lingering fear in his voice. "A few days ago, when you were ill, your hands and feet were so cold. It unsettled me."
Shen Wei lifted her eyes. "What was Your Majesty afraid of?"
Li Yuanjing traced the lines of her palm, his gaze fixed on her face as he murmured, "I feared losing you."
It had been an overwhelming dread, impossible to ignore.
The last time he had felt such inexplicable panic was three years ago, during the struggle for the throne between him and Prince Heng. With tensions in Yanjing City reaching a boiling point, Li Yuanjing had sent Shen Wei to a secluded courtyard outside the city for safety.
While strategizing military defenses within the capital, he was suddenly seized by an urgent need to see her. He rode out to the courtyard and, at the gate adorned with blooming roses, found Shen Wei stepping out—she had been on her way to find him.
Now, in the depths of the bed curtains, Shen Wei leaned closer, intertwining her fingers with his.
Softly, she reassured him, "Your Majesty, this concubine has recovered. I won’t leave."
Li Yuanjing spoke, his tone both a warning and a plea: "Don’t fall ill again."
His strong frame enveloped her, their hair spilling loose and soon tangling together.
The bed curtains swayed gently.
Shen Wei was soon covered in a sheen of sweat.
Perhaps out of consideration for her recent illness, Li Yuanjing was uncharacteristically tender, yielding to her every whim.
Her fingers clutched the newly changed embroidered quilt, her brows furrowed, her voice muffled and breathless—she couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.
Outside, the late autumn night was heavy with dew. In the courtyard of Yongning Palace, the rare tribute chrysanthemums glistened with moisture. A breeze stirred, and the cold droplets slid from the petals, vanishing into the dark earth.
...
...
Meanwhile, in the chill of the autumn night, the procession of Princess Donglin arrived at the official courier station outside Yanjing City.
The candlelight flickered like fireflies, the wind rattling the window frames.
Inside her chamber, the princess had changed into thick sleeping robes and was reclining by the bed, flipping through a book titled Chronicles of the Southern Chu Empress. A maid entered with a basin of warm water. "Your Highness, it’s late. Please rest—reading in dim light will strain your eyes."
Princess Donglin turned a page. "I can’t sleep."
Tomorrow, she would enter Yanjing City and pay homage to Emperor Qing. Anxiety gnawed at her, and she sought solace in the pages of her book.
The maid wrung out a damp cloth and sat beside the bed, gently wiping the princess’s hands.
Princess Donglin’s fingers were slender and pale as spring onions. The maid smiled. "Emperor Qing will be your future husband. Your Highness is peerlessly beautiful—you’ll surely capture his heart."
The princess set the book aside and shot the maid an exasperated look. "What kind of man do you think Emperor Qing is? Do you truly believe he’d be so easily swayed by beauty? I’m no legendary beauty, just a princess from a minor border state. He won’t spare me a second thought."
The maid was stunned. After a long pause, she ventured, "But… His Majesty repeatedly emphasized that Your Highness must win Emperor Qing’s favor."
Donglin was a small kingdom, dependent on Qing State, surviving on the scraps that slipped through the emperor’s fingers.
If Princess Donglin could become Emperor Qing’s confidante, whispering in his ear, Donglin would reap immeasurable benefits.
Princess Donglin turned another page of her book, her delicate face etched with resignation. "Emperor Qing's harem has Noble Consort Chen. I know my limits—there's no way I can compete with her."
Her maid frowned in confusion. "But Noble Consort Chen is just a farmer's daughter—"
Princess Donglin rapped the maid’s head lightly, her tone exasperated. "The fact that a farmer’s daughter climbed to her position proves she’s a formidable woman not to be trifled with. I’ve heard Noble Consort Chen is breathtakingly beautiful, generous, and virtuous, beloved by the common people."
"Her elder brother is the Zhenguo General, and her younger brother is Shen Xiuming—the very same Shen Xiuming who diverted rivers to build dams! Emperor Qing dotes on her, the Empress Dowager shields her, and her brothers thrive in their official careers. How can a foreign princess like me possibly challenge her? Only foolish, arrogant women would be stupid enough to oppose Noble Consort Chen."
The maid deflated instantly. The princess’s words were painfully logical.
Helpless, the maid asked, "Your Highness, then what will you do...?"
Princess Donglin clenched the book in her hands, closing her eyes briefly as she sighed. "Emperor Qing is a master of strategy, Emperor Yue has foresight, the Emperor of Southern Chu rules with decisive ruthlessness—yet my own father is the most incompetent of them all."
The maid paled, whispering nervously, "Your Highness, you mustn’t say such things."
Princess Donglin spat bitterly, "I speak nothing but the truth. My father is weak and inept, and my dozens of brothers are lecherous fools. What future does Donglin have? Sometimes I wish Qing State would just annex Donglin—at least then our people might live better lives under new rule."
If only she had been born a man, she might have had the chance to change things.
But when Donglin faced threats, her father didn’t think to strengthen their military. Instead, he pushed her, a helpless woman, forward as a sacrificial offering. Meanwhile, her brothers—wasted by wine and women—were utterly useless.
On the journey to Qing State, Princess Donglin had considered fleeing more than once. She dreamed of emulating Princess Taihua from a century ago, who carved out her own territory and ruled independently.
Alas, her guards kept relentless watch, forcing her to arrive in Yanjing City with nothing but simmering resentment.
As night deepened, Princess Donglin exhaled heavily. "Heaven never seals all exits. As the Emperor of Southern Chu once said, no matter how wretched life is, one must find a decent way to endure it—or else this fleeting existence would be wasted."
