By late April, the days had grown longer, and after breakfast, the sunlight was bright yet pleasantly warm—the most comfortable time of morning before the heat intensified.
As promised the previous evening, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui in his wheelchair through the front courtyard and into the rear garden.
The garden was designed with winding paths leading to secluded spots. A long flagstone walkway was flanked by an array of flowering trees: delicate maples, sturdy dragon-claw locusts, magnolias and red plums that had already shed their blossoms, crabapples still dusted with pink flowers, and old osmanthus trees that wouldn’t bloom until autumn…
Yao Huang was accustomed to seeing willows, poplars, peaches, and locusts, so many of these trees were unfamiliar to her. Yesterday’s stroll had been purely for novelty, but today, walking with the garden’s owner, she paused whenever she spotted an unknown tree. "Your Highness, what kind of tree is this?"
Zhao Sui glanced and answered each time.
After several repetitions, Yao Huang no longer needed to ask—the moment the wheelchair stopped and her finger pointed, Zhao Sui would name the tree without prompting.
Passing by the pond, Yao Huang gestured toward a stretch of emerald-green vines trailing along the bank.
Zhao Sui: "Winter jasmine."
Prince Hui seemed to recognize everything. At first, Yao Huang was merely impressed, but gradually, a mischievous urge took hold. Walking behind the wheelchair, she began scrutinizing the ground near renowned flowers and trees.
When the wheelchair halted again, Zhao Sui scanned the surroundings. Only a distant tree remained unnamed, so he said, "Ginkgo."
A laugh sounded behind him. Before he could turn his head, Yao Huang—dressed in a red skirt—stepped into the grassy patch beside them and pointed at a wild plant hidden behind shrubs, its small, pale yellow blooms peeking through. "Your Highness, what about this one?"
Zhao Sui studied the plant.
Yao Huang watched him with feigned earnestness and anticipation.
Several paces away, Qingai craned his neck to see the weed Yao Huang had indicated and grimaced inwardly. Damn it—which lazy gardener had missed this dandelion?
Aji, puzzled, asked, "Why are you panicking?"
Qingai shot her a glance, unwilling to expose his master’s lapse, and forced his expression back to neutrality.
Ahead, Zhao Sui remained silent for a moment before answering, "A wildflower."
Yao Huang grinned. "Finally, I get to be the teacher! It is a wildflower, but even wildflowers have names. This one’s called a dandelion. After the flowers fade, they turn into white fluff that scatters in the wind. Children love blowing on them for fun."
Zhao Sui took another look at the dandelion’s leaf shape.
Yao Huang returned to the path and resumed pushing the wheelchair.
As Qingai passed the spot, he eyed the dandelion with conflicted intensity—should he pluck it or leave it? Removing it might displease the princess consort, but leaving it might irritate the prince, who had just failed to identify it.
Aji noticed his troubled expression. "What’s wrong with the flower?"
Qingai muttered, "The garden is inspected daily. No weeds are allowed along the main paths."
Aji glanced around and realized with surprise that aside from this lone dandelion, every patch of greenery was meticulously cultivated, even the grass trimmed to uniformity.
"But it’s pretty," Aji whispered. "The princess consort loves yellow flowers."
Qingai’s internal suffering deepened. Ever since Yao Huang’s arrival, he and Feiquan had been on edge during their daily visits to Ming’an Hall. The princess consort was delightful in every way—except for her lack of caution. Half her remarks to the prince were like plucking hairs from a tiger’s mouth.
Marking the dandelion’s location in his mind, Qingai motioned for Aji to follow as they trailed behind.
Beyond the bamboo grove lay the vegetable garden.
Modeled after a rustic farm, this area had no flagstones—only hard-packed dirt paths, though they were smooth and even.
The newly sown seeds hadn’t yet sprouted, leaving only transplanted sweet potato vines and grapevines to provide greenery.
The tiny sweet potato shoots held little interest, so Yao Huang steered the prince straight to the grape trellis. The tender green leaves, backlit by sunlight, glowed translucent. The slender, curling tendrils at the top had already begun climbing the frame, while others hung midair, their tips straining forward—perhaps by morning, they’d reach their hold.
Noticing the prince’s gaze fixed on one particular tendril, Yao Huang paused until he looked away before moving on. "Your Highness, do you prefer green grapes or purple ones?"
Zhao Sui: "Either."
Yao Huang smiled. "I like the purple ones more, but I planted both—one trellis for each. We can alternate, and if there’s too many, we can dry the extras into raisins."
Leaving the vegetable plot, Yao Huang wasn’t ready to head back. The morning garden held a unique serenity and vitality, and even a casual stroll lifted the spirits.
"Your Highness, let’s walk a little longer. We’re not leaving until mid-morning anyway—plenty of time."
She was eager to see her parents, but arriving too early would only make the prince endure hours of tedium in her family’s small, unfamiliar home.
Zhao Sui’s thrice-daily massage sessions followed a strict schedule, unaltered since it was established.
The garden was vast, but he didn’t want to dampen his wife’s mood. "We can walk for another half-hour."
Yao Huang calculated. "Then I’ll pick up the pace. That should be enough for a full loop."
No longer pausing to identify trees, she quickened her steps. The speed didn’t faze her, but Zhao Sui, seated in the wheelchair, felt a breeze brush his face—carrying the scent of earth and foliage, of peonies and herbaceous peonies.
As they rounded the garden’s western edge, a shimmering lake stretched before them, its surface so dazzling in the sunlight that both instinctively turned their heads.
The open vista brought stronger winds, cool and refreshing.
Yao Huang pointed to the pavilion at the lake’s center. "Your Highness, can people stay there?"
Zhao Sui: "Yes."
Yao Huang brightened. "Then can I move there in summer? It must be wonderfully cool."
Zhao Sui: "You may."
Delighted, Yao Huang began humming a tune.
Zhao Sui: "..."
His princess consort was beautiful, her voice melodious—but the melody itself was… less so.
After enduring it for a while, he finally spoke up. "Who taught you that song?"
Yao Huang felt a flicker of warmth. These past two days, she’d been the one keeping conversations alive while the prince gave terse replies. Today, he was initiating talk!
"My mother and Aunt Wu both know little ditties. I picked them up from listening."
Zhao Sui: "Do you sing often at home?"
Yao Huang: "Not really. Only when I’m in a good mood. So? How’d I do?"
Zhao Sui: "...Adequate."
He wasn’t about to douse her cheer with cold water.
Encouraged, Yao Huang resumed her humming.
The garden’s quiet amplified her soft singing, carrying it to Qingai and Aji trailing behind.
Qingai shot Aji a pained look.
To his horror, Aji began humming along—matching her mistress’s off-key rhythm.
Qingai: "..."
Back at the moon gate connecting the front courtyard to the garden, signaling the end of the prince’s promised stroll, Qingai—uncharacteristically bold—hurried forward without waiting for orders. "Princess Consort, you should rest now. This servant will escort His Highness back to Bamboo Courtyard."
Yao Huang studied the prince’s profile. "Shall I accompany you a bit farther?"
Zhao Sui: "Unnecessary."
Reluctantly, Yao Huang surrendered the wheelchair to Qingai.
Qingai silently pushed Prince Hui's wheelchair to where the dandelions grew and asked for instructions, "Your Highness, these weeds?"
Zhao Sui replied, "Leave them be."
The homecoming gifts had already been loaded onto a specially prepared carriage by the servants in advance. When the time came to depart, Qingai and Feiquan escorted Prince Hui to Ming'an Hall.
Both the prince and his consort, Yao Huang, were dressed in festive red attire. Their fair complexions contrasted—Zhao Sui carried a sickly pallor from prolonged seclusion, while Yao Huang radiated vitality and striking beauty.
Once in the carriage, Zhao Sui remained silent as usual, but Yao Huang also sat primly, her eyes downcast as if lost in thought.
The journey from Prince Hui's residence in the western part of the imperial city to Longevity Lane in the southeastern outskirts was long. Yao Huang held back her words the entire way, but as they neared their destination, she glanced hesitantly at the prince.
Zhao Sui said, "Speak freely if you have something to say."
Yao Huang voiced her concern, "I fear my family's hospitality may be lacking, and I worry it might upset you."
The servants in the prince's household had always served him with extreme caution, terrified of provoking his temper. Her parents and brother, being simple folk, only heightened her anxiety.
Zhao Sui reassured her, "I don't anger so easily."
Yao Huang extended her pinky finger toward him, "You said it—shall we pinky swear?"
Zhao Sui glanced at her outstretched finger, turned his head away, and scoffed at the childish gesture.
But though he averted his gaze, his hand remained still. Seizing the opportunity, Yao Huang hooked her finger around his left pinky, resting on his lap, and gave it a playful shake. "It's settled then. Even if you're upset, pretend everything's fine. Once we return to the estate, you can take it out on me—punish me however you like."
Zhao Sui: "..."
Outside the carriage, Zhang Yue ordered two guards to clear the way, glaring at the curious neighbors in Longevity Lane until they retreated into their homes. Only the Yao family remained, waiting respectfully at their doorstep.
As the carriage came to a stop, Yao Huang took advantage of the moment before the door opened. Leaning close to the prince's ear, she planted a quick kiss and whispered, "Consider this a little incentive—don’t go back on your word."
Zhao Sui: "..."
Yao Huang flashed him a smile before turning to unfasten the wheelchair's restraints.
The door opened, and a wooden ramp was laid down. Under the astonished gazes of Yao Zhenhu and the others, Yao Huang and Qingai worked together to maneuver the wheelchair out of the carriage.
As the Yao family approached nervously to pay their respects, Yao Huang noticed the doorstep and instructed Qingai, "Place the ramp over the threshold."
Qingai quickly grasped her intention. Handing the wheelchair over to Feiquan, he positioned the long wooden plank so that its center rested on the threshold, with one end touching the ground. This allowed Prince Hui's wheelchair to pass smoothly without the indignity of being lifted.
The Yao residence was modest, requiring only two thresholds—the main gate and the southern door of the central hall—before Prince Hui was seated in the place of honor.
Meanwhile, the guards unloaded the homecoming gifts from the second carriage, standing in the courtyard for the formal presentation.
Zhao Sui glanced outside and addressed Yao Zhenhu and his wife, "These are but humble offerings. I hope you’ll accept them."
Yao Zhenhu, whose voice was naturally booming, forgot to lower it in his nervousness, "Your Highness is too kind! Your presence alone brings honor to our humble home—gifts or no gifts!"
Luo Jinhua tugged at his sleeve and apologized, "Your Highness, please forgive him—he’s a rough man with no manners."
Zhao Sui gave a faint smile. Having commanded troops, he’d encountered far coarser individuals than Yao Zhenhu.
After the brief formalities, Yao Huang took charge. "Brother, find an empty room to store the gifts and have the guards rest in the gatehouse."
Yao Lin practically fled in relief.
Yao Huang then pointed to the baskets of mangoes in Huamei’s hands and explained to her parents, "These are Jiaozhou mangoes, a tribute from the emperor to His Highness. They’re exceptionally sweet, and he specifically asked me to bring two baskets—one for our family and one for Grandfather’s household. They don’t keep well, so have Brother deliver the other basket this afternoon and tell them to finish it today."
Luo Jinhua hurriedly pulled her husband into a bow of gratitude.
Yao Huang laughed, "His Highness dislikes excessive ceremony—no need for formalities. Huamei, go to the kitchen and have two more sliced for dessert later."
Huamei curtsied and withdrew, though a shadow of melancholy flickered in her eyes once she left the hall.
The late departure and long journey meant some neighbors had already begun their midday meals. Yao Huang asked her mother, "Is the food ready?"
Luo Jinhua replied, "Almost. Only a few dishes need quick stir-frying—they’ll be done shortly."
Yao Huang nodded, "Then let’s serve the meal. We can talk while we eat."
Luo Jinhua headed to the kitchen.
For the prince and princess’s visit, she had hired two renowned chefs from a high-end restaurant. Such chefs typically only catered to noble households, but upon learning that Prince Hui was the guest of honor, the restaurant not only waived the fee but even supplied ingredients and wine. Luo Jinhua had insisted on paying, so they reluctantly accepted a token sum.
When the cold dishes arrived, Yao Huang frowned at the presentation. "Did Aunt Wu make these?"
Before Luo Jinhua could signal her, Yao Zhenhu blurted out, "Of course not! Your mother hired master chefs from Wangxian Tower. Aunt Wu’s cooking wouldn’t suit His Highness’s refined palate!"
Zhao Sui said, "You’ve gone to too much trouble."
Yao Zhenhu waved it off, "No trouble at all! The restaurant barely charged us once they heard it was for Your Highness."
Luo Jinhua: "..."
Yao Huang: "...Alright, let’s eat."
Yao Zhenhu loved his liquor—the finer the meal, the more he craved a drink. Besides, what kind of son-in-law visit didn’t include wine?
Ignoring his wife’s repeated warnings, he ventured, "Your Highness, care for a drink?"
Luo Jinhua stomped on his foot under the table.
Yao Zhenhu didn’t flinch, eagerly awaiting his son-in-law’s answer.
Zhao Sui replied, "A modest cup or two would suffice."
Yao Zhenhu grinned and fetched his prized jug himself, bypassing the servants.
Lacking small cups, he poured the prince a bowl—filled to seventy percent.
Yao Huang shot her father a glare, but before she could intervene, Zhao Sui lifted the bowl with both hands and toasted, "To my father-in-law."
With that, he downed the entire bowl in one go.
Yao Zhenhu cheered and emptied his own bowl, with Yao Lin matching them enthusiastically.
When Yao Zhenhu reached for the jug again, he found it mysteriously lodged beneath Luo Jinhua’s skirt, secured by her feet.
Noticing the prince’s disinterest in the lavish spread, Luo Jinhua admitted sheepishly, "Your Highness, I’m no master cook, but I do make decent buns. Since the greens in our garden are tender, I steamed a batch of Yao Huang’s favorite—pork and chive filling. We also have rice. Which would you prefer?"
Despite hiring the chefs, she figured the prince had his fill of delicacies and might appreciate homestyle buns instead.
Zhao Sui glanced at Yao Huang and said, "The buns, then."
Luo Jinhua called for Qiaoniang to bring them.
With the table already crowded, Qiaoniang served the buns in large bowls—two plump, fist-sized buns per bowl. The first went to the prince, the second to Yao Huang.
Steam rose from the freshly steamed buns, carrying the savory aroma of the filling.
Zhao Sui lowered his gaze to inspect them. Yao Huang thought to herself—given that the prince typically ate only half a bowl of rice per meal, two buns might be too much.
She proactively picked one out and placed it beside a cold dish on the plate, smiling as she said, "Your Highness, please try this first. If you like it, you can have another."
Zhao Sui nodded, ignoring Yao Zhenhu's attempt to grab a bun with his hands—quickly intercepted by Luo Jinhua—and picked up his chopsticks. He took a bite of the wrapper first: thin yet chewy, the inner layer soaked in the filling's juices, fragrant but not greasy.
Once he started, there was no leaving it unfinished. Zhao Sui ate the bun while briefly engaging in polite conversation, his manners impeccable—not a single crumb of filling left in his bowl.
Yao Huang could easily devour three of these buns in one sitting. Seeing that the prince had finished his, she picked up the one she had set aside earlier with clean chopsticks, silently asking if he wanted another.
Zhao Sui hesitated slightly before agreeing.
Luo Jinhua was delighted. It seemed the prince was quite pleased with her cooking, eating more of the buns than the other dishes.
After the meal, Zhao Sui took the initiative to ask about Yao Lin's studies, finally giving Yao Huang and her mother the chance to slip away to the west chamber for some private talk.
Luo Jinhua was most concerned about one thing: "Your Highness, is he... capable in that regard?"
A crippled leg was one thing, but condemning her daughter to a lifetime of loneliness would be unbearable!
Yao Huang's cheeks flushed crimson as she turned away. "More than capable—I can hardly keep up with him."
Luo Jinhua's eyes widened in shock!
Yao Huang waved it off. "Alright, enough of that. The reason I rushed back was to tell you how well I’m doing there."
She described the vast estate of the prince's residence, the authority he had granted her—soon, she would oversee everything inside and outside the household.
Luo Jinhua was pleased at first, then sighed. "It’s good, yes, but it also means Prince Hui has resigned himself to this life. So young, yet always hiding away... it’s not right."
Now that he was family—handsome, mild-tempered—Luo Jinhua couldn’t help but care for Prince Hui as if he were her own son, even if he might not appreciate it.
Yao Huang stayed silent. Sympathy was one thing, but there was little she could do.
After a moment, Luo Jinhua advised, "Let’s be clear—we all hope His Highness finds his footing again. But don’t you dare lecture him with empty platitudes. A man of his learning has heard it all before. Understanding and acting are two different things."
Yao Huang nodded. "I know. It’s been a year since the incident. The Emperor, Empress, Imperial Consorts, and other princes must have tried every way to console him. Anything I say would just be repetitive. Better to stay quiet."
The two whispered for about half an hour before Yao Huang, reluctant but worried her father and brother might fumble their words, decided it was time to return.
Outside, Yao Lin was practicing with his spear in the courtyard.
Spotting his sister, he looked relieved. "Finally! Father insisted I show off for His Highness right after eating—hot, stuffed, and exhausted. Do I look like I’m enjoying this?"
