Song Yu hurriedly arrived at Song Shihuan’s courtyard, picked up the teacup on the table, and drained it in one gulp. Behind him, Shen Qingping followed closely.
“Your Highness, why do you run at the sight of me?” Shen Qingping felt as if he’d seen a ghost. He hadn’t offended the prince, so why did the man bolt the moment he appeared?
Seeing that even this hadn’t shaken Shen Qingping off, Song Yu sighed in exasperation.
Fine. They’d just have to teach Shihuan together.
“Ah-Huan, I’ve looked into it,” Song Yu said, still catching his breath. “The women’s academy has compulsory and elective courses. The compulsory ones are the Four Books and Five Classics, while the electives require choosing two from music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.”
“How needlessly complicated,” Song Yu couldn’t help but mutter.
Song Shihuan’s expression dimmed. “I’ve only read half of the Spring and Autumn Annals among the Four Books and Five Classics, and I’ve never touched music, chess, calligraphy, or painting. If I go, I’ll surely be the lowest-ranked student.”
“Impossible!” Shen Qingping was the first to protest. Even his own grandfather had remarked on Shihuan’s astonishing memory and rapid progress, accusing him of skimming texts when in truth, the young lady absorbed knowledge like a sponge.
She was clearly gifted.
“Exactly.” Song Yu exchanged a glance with Shen Qingping. For the child’s sake, they’d give it their all!
In an instant, their rivalry dissolved into cooperation.
“There’s still over half a month until the end of the month. During this time, I and Shen… ahem… Tutor Shen will stay by your side. Ask us anything you don’t understand,” Song Yu said, pausing briefly. “As for music, chess, calligraphy, and painting…”
He was utterly clueless.
If only he hadn’t driven away all his tutors in his youth.
“I can play the zither,” Shen Qingping said, though his expression shifted slightly. “But my reputation in music isn’t… favorable.”
“As long as Tutor Shen is willing to teach me, I’ll learn from you,” Song Shihuan said earnestly. “For the other subject, I’ll choose…”
“Calligraphy,” Song Yu interjected abruptly. When two pairs of eyes turned to him, he mumbled under his breath, “The old man likes calligraphy.”
Song Shihuan brightened. Her father actually had a shrewd mind beneath his carefree exterior.
“Don’t look at me like that. I never studied music, chess, or painting, but the calligraphy tutor’s complaints got me the worst beatings,” Song Yu said, crossing his arms with a roguish grin.
“Very well. Then I’ll trouble Father to find me a calligraphy tutor.”
From that day on, Song Shihuan’s life became a whirlwind of activity.
But her busy schedule wasn’t solely due to the sheer number of subjects.
For instance…
“Shen Qingping, Ah-Huan has practiced the zither for two hours already. It’s time for calligraphy!” Song Yu bellowed. “You keep sneaking extra time for her music lessons!”
“Just one incense stick’s worth,” Shen Qingping pleaded.
Yet even after the incense burned out, Shen Qingping watched reluctantly as Song Shihuan left.
Heaven knew how rare it was to find a student who could memorize sheet music at a glance!
If only she could devote every waking moment to the zither, her skill would surely surpass his in no time.
“Tutor Shen, you may return tomorrow.”
Baoxia shot Shen Qingping a sympathetic look.
Grudgingly, Shen Qingping departed, already resolved to extend tomorrow’s lesson by another half-hour.
——
Amidst this hectic routine, Song Shihuan received an invitation from the palace.
“A flower-viewing banquet.”
Song Yu tossed the invitation aside after reading it. “We’re not going. Time is precious right now. What’s the point of admiring flowers with those people?”
“But it’s an invitation from Her Majesty the Empress Dowager. We can’t refuse.”
Song Shihuan studied the invitation for a long moment before speaking again. “Father, shouldn’t our household add more guards?”
“What does a flower-viewing banquet have to do with guards?” Song Yu was baffled.
“Father, perhaps you could speak to His Majesty and request some additional guards for us.” Song Shihuan’s heart trembled slightly. “Lately, I’ve been having nightmares.”
“Nightmares? Then maybe I should summon Mei Zhilin as well.”
But before Song Yu could leave the estate, Wu Qi arrived from the palace.
“Your Highness, My Lady, this servant comes by His Majesty’s order to deliver additional guards to your household,” Wu Qi said, his aged face beaming. “His Majesty said that with the estate’s increased wealth, more guards are needed for protection.”
Song Yu nodded. “Then we thank His Majesty.”
What a coincidence. The Emperor and Ah-Huan had the same thought.
He turned to Song Shihuan, only to find her smiling brightly back at him.
Why did he feel something was off? Song Yu scratched his head.
——
That night.
Song Shihuan studied her reflection in the bronze mirror. At the flower-viewing banquet, the Successor Empress would surely recognize her resemblance to the late Empress.
Her request for guards stemmed from fear that the Successor Empress, in a fit of rage, might send someone to harm her.
She hadn’t expected His Majesty to be so thorough in his considerations.
“My Lady, which ruqun would you like to wear to the banquet?” the matron asked softly.
Song Shihuan turned, her gaze settling on a vibrant red garment. “I prefer the red one.”
Red, fierce as fire, blazing like the sun.
——
The next morning, Song Shihuan was roused early by the matron and seated before the mirror as Yingchun fussed over her appearance.
A full hour later, her makeup was finally complete.
Dressed in a fiery red ruqun with a crimson beauty mark gracing her forehead, Song Shihuan was a vision.
Her willow-leaf brows and almond eyes needed no enhancement, and her lips were naturally rosy.
Thanks to daily baths in cow’s milk and fragrant ointments, her skin was porcelain-smooth, the fine down on her arms making her glow like a freshly peeled egg.
“My Lady is radiant beyond measure. Today, you will undoubtedly captivate everyone.”
The matron smiled with satisfaction, tears of emotion glistening in her eyes.
The spirit of the late Empress in heaven would surely rejoice to see her daughter like this.
——
The Imperial Garden.
When the Crown Princess arrived with Song Xiyan, the ladies of the Chu and Qi princely households were already present, and other noblewomen and young misses had begun admiring the flowers in small groups.
“Second Sister-in-law, Xiyan,” the Princesses of Chu and Qi greeted warmly. “The flowers in the Imperial Garden are exceptionally lovely today. No wonder Her Majesty invited us.”
The Crown Princess smiled with dignified grace and turned to Song Xiyan. “Xiyan, go play with Xiling and Xiyao.”
As the three sisters-in-law sat together, the topic of Song Shihuan inevitably arose.
“Fourth Sister and I only met Shihuan that one time and haven’t had another chance since,” the Princess of Chu remarked, scanning the crowd. “Why isn’t she here yet?”
“Perhaps she’s running late,” the Crown Princess said indifferently.
“Ah, with no princess consort in their household and Eldest Brother’s rough temperament…” The Princess of Qi spoke in a delicate voice. “Arriving late to such events invites gossip.”
Another quarter-hour passed before the Successor Empress made her entrance.
“We pay homage to Her Majesty the Empress. May Her Majesty live a thousand years!”
“Rise, all of you. Today, I hope everyone enjoys the flowers to their heart’s content.” The Successor Empress glanced around. “Hmm? Where is Ah-Huan?”
Just as murmurs began to spread, a clear voice rang out:
“Grandmother Empress, I’ve arrived late.”
Song Shihuan appeared, and the entire garden fell silent.
