Yao Lin was practicing with his spear while Yao Zhenhu stood watching outside the threshold of the main hall. Prince Hui's wheelchair was parked just inside the doorway, with Qingai standing behind it.
At a glance, Yao Huang first noticed Qingai's face—paler even than Prince Hui's, though it hadn't been that way before.
Just then, Yao Lin smoothly retracted his spear to make way for his mother and sister.
Luo Jinhua lagged a step behind her daughter, feeling as though the sky might collapse. Only a fool like her husband would have their son show off his martial skills in front of a son-in-law who had lost the use of his legs.
If Prince Hui took offense and punished Yao Zhenhu on the spot, Luo Jinhua would have grudgingly called it deserved—but she feared the prince might suppress his anger here only to take it out on her daughter later.
Yao Zhenhu, oblivious to the fury in his wife's eyes, turned to his son-in-law and asked, "What does Your Highness think?"
As a mere centurion, he had never had the chance to meet Prince Hui before this marriage. But the prince's legendary martial prowess, honed under a renowned master, and his battlefield achievements were widely known in the military camps. Yao Zhenhu genuinely sought his son-in-law's guidance, hoping it might help Yao Lin refine his techniques and secure a higher rank in next year's military examinations.
At these words, Qingai's already pale face turned ashen. The prince's consort was beautiful enough that even her occasional clumsiness with words couldn’t provoke anger—but Yao Zhenhu, with his rough demeanor, kept jabbing at the prince's wounds with every word and action. How could the prince tolerate it?
Zhao Sui's gaze swept over the faces of the consort and her mother as they emerged from the western chamber, then settled on Yao Lin’s grip on the spear. "Yao Lin possesses remarkable strength and skill with the spear," he remarked, "though his footwork could use refinement. If he learns to recover swiftly after each strike, he’ll gain an advantage in combat."
"Yao Lin" was the young man’s courtesy name. At just nineteen, only two years older than Yao Huang, Zhao Sui spoke to him with the tone of an elder brother offering advice.
Yao Lin exclaimed, "Your Highness has a sharp eye! Every time I spar with Li Tingwang, he exploits that exact opening!"
Luo Jinhua’s eyelids twitched.
Zhao Sui didn’t know who Li Tingwang was, nor did he care to find out. He continued instructing Yao Lin on how to improve his footwork.
Yao Huang understood—her brother’s weakness lay in agility. He needed to train his reflexes, both in mind and body.
Yao Zhenhu, impressed by the prince’s precise critique, was about to ask for pointers himself when Luo Jinhua cut him off, stepping between them and shooting her daughter a meaningful look.
Seizing the moment, Yao Huang suggested they take their leave. If their family had a larger estate, they might have invited Prince Hui to rest in a guest chamber—but lacking one, an early departure was best.
Once the couple boarded their carriage, Luo Jinhua exhaled in relief, but Yao Huang grew tense.
Unlike their earlier journey, the carriage now carried a faint trace of alcohol.
Yao Huang recognized it—her father’s prized liquor, a rare indulgence from Wangxian Tower, hidden away to prevent Yao Lin from sneaking a drink. She had once dabbed a drop out of curiosity, and even that tiny amount had burned like fire in her chest. Yet her pale-faced prince had downed an entire bowl without hesitation!
The effects of the liquor were slow to surface. Nearly half an hour had passed since the meal...
Yao Huang stole a glance at Prince Hui.
Leaning back in his wheelchair, his eyes closed, his handsome face showed no flush from the drink.
Reassured, Yao Huang studied the wheelchair—crafted from sandalwood, its wide seat could accommodate another person if the prince shifted to one side.
Beneath the footrest lay a flat space about two feet long, perfect for seating. The backrest wasn’t rigid but curved for comfort—without the wheels, it might have been mistaken for a luxurious recliner. After a hearty meal, on a long journey, such relaxation surely beat sitting upright as she was.
Suddenly, Prince Hui opened his eyes.
Yao Huang quickly lowered her gaze.
"Water," Zhao Sui said.
The Yao family’s dumplings had been delicious, if a tad salty—a stark contrast to the bland fare prescribed by the prince’s physician over the past year.
The teapot sat in the cabinet opposite. The upper compartments held small drawers for handkerchiefs, combs, and mirrors, while the lower shelf housed a teapot, a water jug, and two matching cups.
Even the steadiest carriage jostled slightly. To avoid spills, Yao Huang knelt before the cabinet, lifting her skirts with one hand while the other carefully poured water from the jade-white porcelain jug into a cup.
Her sleeves slipped down, revealing wrists fairer than the porcelain itself.
Yao Huang hadn’t touched alcohol at the meal, but her naturally rosy complexion, refreshed by a wash before leaving the western chamber, brought to mind peonies blooming after rain.
Once the cup was filled, she returned the jug and rose cautiously, bending to offer the drink to Prince Hui.
Her crimson ruqun had concealed every curve while she stood, but now, as she leaned forward, a sliver of skin peeked through the gap at her waist.
Zhao Sui accepted the cup without so much as a glance, draining it in three gulps.
"More?" Yao Huang asked.
A nod.
She refilled the tiny cup—barely wider than her palm—knowing one wouldn’t suffice for true thirst.
After the prince had his fill, Yao Huang took a cup for herself, drinking two in quick succession.
Resuming her seat, she ventured another look at Prince Hui. Finding him awake, she murmured, "Does Your Highness usually drink?"
"No."
Her heart leapt into her throat. "Then—when my father pressed you, were you angry?"
Zhao Sui met her gaze. "I abstain ordinarily, but I drink sparingly at social gatherings."
"Your tolerance must be excellent," Yao Huang ventured. "Wangxian Tower’s strongest liquor didn’t even faze you."
"Passable."
Encouraged, she pressed further. "What did you think of my family? If anything displeased you, I’ll advise them to adjust."
"Nothing."
"So... you weren’t upset at all?"
Silence was his answer as he closed his eyes again—a clear end to the conversation.
Yao Huang bit back further questions. Too restless to nap, she turned to peek through the carriage curtains.
They had just left Longevity Alley, where children no older than five darted between houses at play.
Having been cooped up for nearly three months since the imperial selection, she was starved for the outside world. Twisting toward the dozing prince, she asked, "Your Highness, may I truly leave the palace whenever I wish?"
A faint hum of assent.
"Won’t the censors accuse me of tarnishing the royal dignity?"
"So long as you neither abuse power nor break laws, the censors have no grounds—or right—to interfere."
"What about the Emperor? Or the Empress and Imperial Consort Du?"
Zhao Sui opened his eyes, studying her. "What exactly do you plan to do outside?"
Yao Huang thought for a moment and listed them one by one: "Strolling through shops at temple fairs, listening to storytelling in teahouses or operas at theaters, visiting my parents at home, going for a countryside outing or hiking when the weather is nice... Oh, and I’d also like to ride horses. Does the prince’s residence have any spare horses I could use, or do I need to buy my own?"
Zhao Sui asked, "You know how to ride?"
Yao Huang flushed slightly. "I can ride mules, but riding a mule isn’t too different from riding a horse, right?"
Zhao Sui: "...How skilled are you?"
Yao Huang: "Not bad? At least when racing against my brother, he rarely beats me."
The two mules at home were equally strong, but her brother weighed dozens of pounds more than her, so the mule carrying him naturally moved slower.
Zhao Sui understood and said, "There are a few horses in the residence. You may use whichever you like. If none suit you, tell Guo Shu to find a few more. As for the activities you mentioned, you may do them as long as you don’t cross any lines or give people grounds for criticism. His Majesty and Her Majesty won’t interfere. If you’re worried, you can reduce the frequency of your outings—just don’t go too often."
Yao Huang: "Don’t worry, Your Highness. I won’t go out every day—just four... no, six or seven times a month."
Zhao Sui fell silent.
Yao Huang: "On days I don’t go out, may I invite guests to the residence?"
Zhao Sui: "You may, but I won’t join you in hosting them—including your parents."
Yao Huang: "Of course, I wouldn’t trouble you with that. You won’t even hear a peep from us."
Upon returning to the prince’s residence, Prince Hui went straight to the Bamboo Courtyard.
Yao Huang took a nap and, after waking, summoned the steward Guo Shu to lead her to the stables.
The stable yard was even larger than the entire Yao family home. Two neat rows of stalls housed eight magnificent horses, each with glossy coats and an imposing presence.
Yao Huang: "Are these all His Highness’s horses? Has he ridden each one?"
Guo Shu: "Yes. All eight were bestowed upon His Highness by His Majesty over the years. Chasing Wind is the oldest—a gift from His Majesty when the prince was thirteen. His Highness learned to ride on him and used him for hunts and outings until he turned eighteen."
"Flowing Fire, Moonlit Shadow, and Startling Mist have all accompanied His Highness on the battlefield. They are his most cherished steeds."
Flowing Fire was a fiery red stallion, majestic from afar but bearing four scars on his neck and belly up close.
Even the prince’s horse had been wounded—a testament to the dangers of war.
Moonlit Shadow was snow-white, serving as Prince Hui’s mount during campaigns and triumphant returns.
Startling Mist had jet-black fur and large, expressive eyes that darted past Yao Huang and Guo Shu, as if searching for someone else.
Guo Shu’s expression darkened. The war against Wu State had lasted a year and a half. For the first year, Prince Hui had ridden Startling Mist into battle. During a critical clash, General Cen Lianshan was ambushed. The prince led reinforcements to rescue him and ordered Startling Mist to carry the severely wounded general to safety. Outnumbered, Prince Hui was driven to a cliff’s edge. Refusing to surrender, he leapt into the abyss.
Enemy troops scoured the ravine for three days, finding only a mutilated corpse clad in the prince’s armor. When Cen Lianshan regrouped and counterattacked, he dispatched a search party—and it was Startling Mist who discovered the prince, unconscious in a narrow crevice ten feet above the ravine floor.
Had the horse not tirelessly pawed at the rock wall, the soldiers would have missed the hidden alcove entirely.
Guo Shu didn’t share these details with the princess consort, but Yao Huang sensed Startling Mist’s bond with Prince Hui from his demeanor.
She reached out toward the stallion from outside the stall.
To her surprise, Startling Mist approached and exhaled warmly into her palm.
Yao Huang glanced at Guo Shu in astonishment.
Guo Shu smiled. "His Highness rode Startling Mist on your wedding day. The horse is highly perceptive—he must recognize you."
Perhaps it was her scent or the sound of her footsteps, but something had left an impression on the horse.
Yao Huang stroked Startling Mist’s neck, recalling the longing in his eyes. Her heart ached. Once a fearless warrior, the prince now confined himself indoors, his legs useless. His noble steed, once galloping across battlefields, was now confined to a stall—like an eagle with clipped wings.
Guo Shu gestured to the other four horses. "His Highness hasn’t ridden these yet. Would you like to choose one?"
Yao Huang whispered a farewell to Startling Mist and selected a chestnut-colored mare from the four.
She wanted to test the horse in the rear garden.
Guo Shu hesitated. "But if His Highness hears the hooves..."
Yao Huang dismissed the concern. "If the sound of hooves upsets him, wouldn’t the sight of Feiquan and Qingai walking around on two legs distress him even more?"
The wheelchair had been crafted so the prince could move freely instead of being bedridden. Compared to its slow, laborious progress, a spirited horse should bring him joy—at least, that was how Yao Huang saw it.
In her three days with Prince Hui, she’d found him far from petty. Had he been easily provoked, he would have thrown her out of the carriage the moment she mentioned horseback riding.
Yao Huang: "Bring Startling Mist too. The prince’s mount shouldn’t be cooped up forever."
She’d start with just Startling Mist to gauge the prince’s reaction. If he didn’t object, she’d take all eight horses out next time for a proper run.
Guo Shu: "..."
Why did this young consort from a modest background carry more authority than even Imperial Consort Du, the emperor’s favorite? Even Her Ladyship had never presumed to rearrange so much as a blade of grass in the prince’s residence.
Guo Shu genuinely didn’t want the consort to risk reproach. A newlywed couple of three days couldn’t possibly share deep affection. If she were scolded, the fragile cheer in the household would shatter into deeper gloom.
Yet he dared not refuse outright. Before the wedding, Prince Hui had decreed that the consort would oversee all household matters.
Resigned, Guo Shu personally led Startling Mist after Yao Huang.
In the garden, Yao Huang grew impatient with Guo Shu’s slow pace and told him to release the horse. Startling Mist trotted obediently behind her.
Even when passing the Bamboo Courtyard—where the horse clearly sensed his master’s presence—he merely tilted his head toward the bamboo grove before continuing after Yao Huang.
Just as she relaxed, Startling Mist suddenly reared and let out a piercing whinny toward the courtyard. The sorrow in his eyes was palpable—more heart-wrenching than a bride who’d only see her husband six times a month.
The cry startled birds from the bamboo and sent Feiquan tumbling off his bed in the gatehouse. Qingai, seated on a stone bench in the yard, nearly fell to the ground.
In the study, Zhao Sui turned toward the window.
By the time Feiquan rushed to the bamboo grove, Yao Huang and Startling Mist were already gone. Though she doubted the prince would mind the hoofbeats, the horse’s sudden outburst had startled her into fleeing.
Feiquan glared at Guo Shu, who arrived moments later. "What happened?"
Guo Shu rubbed his temples and explained.
Feiquan fretted, "Why didn’t you stop her?"
More concerned with the prince’s reaction, Guo Shu peered toward the Bamboo Courtyard.
Qingai shook his head—the prince hadn’t summoned him for questioning.
Guo Shu’s heart stirred as he pointed ahead and declared, "I’ll go after the princess!"
Slipping away like oil under his feet, he dashed off swiftly. Feiquan gritted his teeth—after such a commotion, should he report this or not?
Since it was the third day of their marriage, Prince Hui still came to Ming’an Hall by evening.
During meals, Qingai and the others would withdraw beyond the doors, leaving only the prince and princess in the main hall.
Prince Hui was as composed as ever, so Yao Huang took the initiative to explain, "Your Highness, I’ve chosen a horse and even took it for a ride in the back garden. Did I disturb you?"
Zhao Sui replied, "Not at all. But why did you bring Jingwu along?"
Yao Huang hesitated. "...You heard that?"
Zhao Sui said nothing, confirming it.
Yao Huang then recounted Jingwu’s longing gaze in the stables: "I thought it just wanted to run outside, but it turns out it missed you too much. It suddenly neighed and nearly startled me off the horse."
Zhao Sui said after a pause, "...Have Eunuch Cao assign you a young eunuch to accompany you when riding, just in case."
Yao Huang chuckled. "Which young eunuch would dare ride in the back garden? I’m afraid if you so much as cough, he’d tumble off, and I’d have to help him up."
Zhao Sui picked up a dish with his chopsticks.
Watching him finish, Yao Huang smiled. "Your Highness, were you worried about me just now?"
Zhao Sui replied evenly, "Falling from a horse is no trivial matter."
Yao Huang pressed on, "Then why not ride with me once? With you there, neither the people nor the horses in our household would be so skittish. You could also see my riding skills for yourself."
Under the eaves, Qingai, straining to listen, nearly went weak at the knees!
After a long silence, the prince’s voice finally came: "Very well."
