At the age of eighteen, Zhao Sui volunteered to go to the battlefield, where he achieved extraordinary feats. Emperor Yongchang was so delighted that he exceptionally granted him the title of prince two years ahead of schedule and bestowed upon him the Prince Hui's Mansion.
At that time, the eldest prince, Prince Kang, had already been enfeoffed. When the Ministry of Works constructed Prince Hui's Mansion, following Emperor Yongchang's instructions, the main residence was built to the same scale as Prince Kang's—a five-courtyard, three-path layout. However, Prince Hui's garden was twice the size of Prince Kang's, and Emperor Yongchang even personally oversaw the landscaping of Prince Hui's garden.
The officials buzzed with speculation. Some guessed that the emperor favored Prince Hui as the heir apparent, while others believed the emperor was simply in high spirits after the military victory and thus took pleasure in advising Prince Hui on garden design. When Prince Kang was enfeoffed, southern regions were suffering from floods, and Emperor Yongchang was preoccupied with the Ministry of Revenue, leaving no time for such indulgences.
Regardless of the truth, Prince Hui's Mansion stood as the largest and most extravagantly constructed among the three princely residences at the time.
A grand estate naturally invites envy, but the larger the mansion and gardens, the more maids and servants are required.
The entire Prince Hui's Mansion housed over a hundred servants—and this was considered modest, as Prince Hui disliked extravagance. This count didn’t even include his fifty personal guards.
Prince Hui's residence was located in the fourth courtyard along the central axis, named Ming'an Hall. The first two courtyards were designated for receiving guests and handling official affairs. However, since Prince Hui's accident left him confined to the mansion and refusing visitors, those courtyards had long been abandoned by him.
Returning to Ming'an Hall, Qingai and Feiquan attended to Zhao Sui in the front courtyard, while Yao Huang took Aji to the rear quarters to change clothes.
After shedding the cumbersome ceremonial robes, Yao Huang dismissed Huamei and the others, then flopped onto the canopy bed to relieve her exhaustion.
Aji crouched by the bed and asked with concern, "Is the princess consort very tired?"
Yao Huang sighed. "Walking that long palace path wasn’t the hard part. What drained me was having to maintain perfect composure in front of His Highness. Once inside the palace, the rules multiplied. Imagine how I am at home—having to sit properly, entertain the emperor and his consorts, and force smiles through conversations was more exhausting than running a mile."
Aji said, "It’s certainly not as comfortable as our days in Longevity Lane. But think of His Highness—you at least could stretch your legs, while he had to sit or lie down all day. Doesn’t that make your ordeal easier to bear?"
Yao Huang: "..."
True. Prince Hui had been seated since morning—wouldn’t his legs go numb?
Earlier, the prince had told her to rest at ease before summoning the servants. Maybe he also wanted to lie down a while longer!
With that thought, Yao Huang settled more comfortably into the bed.
Aji glanced outside and whispered, "Princess Consort, perhaps from now on, I should be the one on night duty? After you and His Highness retire, I can sleep outside. It won’t be tiring even if I do it consecutively."
Yao Huang frowned. "Why?"
Night-duty maids had to remain alert for summons at any hour. While they could sleep undisturbed if nothing happened, being roused in the middle of the night was no easy task. Yao Huang didn’t want to burden Aji alone.
Aji covered her mouth with one hand and revealed that the adjoining room could overhear sounds from the inner chamber.
Yao Huang’s face flushed. "You could hear? Everything?"
Those wet, smacking, and rhythmic noises His Highness made...
Aji hastily shook her head. "Not your conversations with His Highness—just, well, your... noises."
Yao Huang: "..."
She hadn’t realized she’d been that loud.
After burying her face in the bedding for a moment, Yao Huang finally decided, "We’ll take turns on night duty. Next time, I’ll be more mindful."
There would be many nights ahead—Aji couldn’t shoulder it alone forever. Besides, Yao Huang needed to groom other trusted maids.
After resting for a quarter-hour and spending another quarter-hour dressing and fixing her hair, Yao Huang finally made her way to the front courtyard.
Feiquan stood in the yard and bowed respectfully upon seeing the princess consort.
As she walked, Yao Huang studied Feiquan.
Between the two eunuchs serving Prince Hui, Qingai had a more dignified and steady demeanor, while Feiquan’s bright, lively eyes made him seem like the type to jest with his master. Yet palace and mansion rules had molded him into rigid formality—or perhaps appearances deceived, and Feiquan was naturally strict.
"Is His Highness resting inside?" Yao Huang asked casually.
Feiquan glanced toward the main hall.
By then, Yao Huang had reached the entrance. Turning her head, she saw Prince Hui seated in the north of the hall, clad in a deep crimson brocade robe.
In ordinary households, the northern side of a main hall would feature two master chairs separated by a square table.
But Prince Hui had his wheelchair. Placing him on the master seat would be redundant—servants might not mind the hassle, but the prince would surely resent the reminder of his condition. Leaving the wheelchair beside the master seat would disrupt symmetry, while swapping regular chairs in and out depending on his presence would only emphasize his disability.
What Yao Huang saw instead was a long table at a height convenient for Prince Hui to reach his tea. The prince and his wheelchair occupied the northern side alone, while two guest chairs faced the table from the east and west. This arrangement maintained the hall’s harmony whether the prince was present or not. Even if another prince visited, seating them at the table’s ends would still count as sharing the head table—no slight intended.
With Prince Hui disabled, what prince would nitpick such trivialities?
Yao Huang couldn’t hide her fascination with the unconventional seating. Nor did she try.
Meeting Prince Hui’s placid gaze, she left Aji outside and stepped in, offering a shallow curtsey.
Zhao Sui said, "We’re husband and wife. There’s no need for such formalities hereafter."
Yao Huang smiled. "Gladly. It did feel rather distant."
Her tone was effortless, yet Zhao Sui found himself recalling last night’s intimacy. Lowering his eyes, he said, "Sit. This is the roster of the mansion’s servants. Review it first."
Qingai promptly produced a ledger and placed it respectfully by the guest seat to the prince’s left.
Yao Huang lifted her skirts slightly and sat. Glancing at the prince, she praised, "This seating arrangement is brilliant. It’s much easier for us to see each other. If we sat side by side, we’d have to crane our necks to talk—how stiff we’d be after a while!"
Qingai: "..."
He tensed, stealing a look at the prince.
Zhao Sui said, "Go check if everyone has assembled."
Qingai bowed and withdrew.
Sensing the prince’s urgency to conclude matters, Yao Huang wasted no time flipping through the ledger.
The first page listed only three names: Steward Guo Shu, in charge of overall affairs; Eunuch Cao, overseeing male servants; and Nanny Liu, managing female servants.
Zhao Sui said, "The mansion has many servants. Since you’re new, you may summon these three directly for needs. As princess consort, unless your requests defy reason, they will obey you."
Yao Huang understood. It was like spending silver—given Prince Hui’s generosity, she could withdraw hundreds or even thousands of taels from the accounts without issue. But if she tried to take all five thousand taels of the prince’s annual stipend at once, Steward Guo would surely have to seek approval from the highest authority in the household: Prince Hui himself.
Yao Huang continued flipping through the register.
The roster was organized by the servants’ ranks. For instance, each of the three main residential courtyards and the rear garden had its own steward responsible for overseeing maintenance, daily cleaning, and the care of plants and trees.
Next came the lists categorized by specific duties—kitchens, embroidery workshops, gardening sheds, storerooms, craftsmen’s quarters, stables, laundry rooms, and so on. Every position, from stewards down to the lowest maids and pages, was meticulously recorded.
Aside from the majority who had signed indentured servitude contracts, the prince’s household also employed two resident physicians, both renowned for their medical expertise.
As Yao Huang skimmed through, she did a rough count and was startled to find that the household had over a hundred servants. Closing the register, she whispered to Prince Hui, "Your Highness, with so many people, the monthly wages alone must be a considerable sum, no?"
Zhao Sui replied, "...If we can afford to keep them, we can afford to pay them. There’s no need to worry."
Yao Huang quickly did some mental math. The prince’s annual salary of five thousand taels averaged just over four hundred taels per month. If the servants’ wages, food expenses, and routine maintenance of the estate and gardens cost around a hundred taels, that left three hundred taels. After deducting another hundred for the couple’s food, clothing, and medical expenses...
From the perspective of a military officer’s daughter like Yao Huang, a monthly surplus of two hundred taels was more than enough. But considering Prince Hui’s promise the previous night that she could spend freely—and given that a single jeweled hairpin could cost hundreds of taels—if she truly indulged in extravagance, the household would soon be penniless!
Zhao Sui watched as his consort’s brows furrowed briefly before smoothing out. With an earnest expression, she declared, "Your Highness, don’t worry. I’ll be frugal and avoid unnecessary expenses."
She loved jewelry, but she wouldn’t splurge on new, expensive pieces every month. Even if the prince didn’t mind, she’d happily continue wearing affordable, commoner-style accessories.
Zhao Sui: "..."
Qingai returned. "Your Highness, everyone has assembled."
Zhao Sui: "Have Feiquan bring them in."
The servants were already waiting outside Ming’an Hall. Under the orderly guidance of the three chief stewards, the hundred-odd staff soon filed in.
Qingai wheeled Zhao Sui out, with Yao Huang walking beside them.
Chief Steward Guo Shu raised his voice. "Bow to His Highness and Her Ladyship!"
The crowd dropped to their knees in unison, offering their greetings.
Zhao Sui glanced at Yao Huang.
Understanding his cue, she gestured for them to rise.
Once everyone was standing again, they respectfully studied the consort’s face, committing her features to memory before lowering their eyes in deference.
Zhao Sui announced, "From this day forward, you will show Her Ladyship the same respect you show me. Anyone who disobeys will be punished according to household rules."
The servants knelt once more to acknowledge the command.
Having established Yao Huang’s authority, Zhao Sui dismissed the crowd. Turning to her, he said, "I’ll accompany you on a tour of the estate."
It was the proper courtesy a newlywed husband ought to extend to his wife.
Yao Huang was delighted. This was her new home, after all—of course she wanted to explore it thoroughly.
But she thought strolling alone with her husband would foster intimacy and make conversation easier. Without hesitation, she stepped behind the wheelchair and said to Qingai, "You all may stay here. I’ll take care of His Highness."
Qingai: "..."
He didn’t dare ask the prince for confirmation, and since he stood behind the wheelchair, he couldn’t even catch his lord’s eye.
As Yao Huang reached for the wheelchair handles, Qingai’s grip on them wavered uncertainly.
Noticing his hesitation, Yao Huang leaned down and tilted her head to address Zhao Sui directly. "Your Highness, may I?"
Zhao Sui: "You may. Qingai and Aji will follow at a distance."
Qingai exhaled in relief.
Yao Huang beamed as she took over. "Just point the way, Your Highness. I promise to push steadily."
Zhao Sui gestured toward a path.
The east and west wings served various purposes—guest quarters, banquet halls, storerooms, a library. After a brief tour, the party of four finally arrived at the rear garden.
Late April had draped the grounds in lush greenery and blossoms. Artificial hills, rockeries, and pavilions nestled amid the serene scenery, and even the air smelled fresher here than elsewhere.
Yao Huang inhaled deeply, delighted. "This garden is breathtaking. If not for marrying you, Your Highness, I might never have seen such beauty in my lifetime."
Zhao Sui pointed east. "Let’s start from this side."
Yao Huang nodded. After ensuring the flagstone path ahead was smooth, she wheeled him forward while admiring the surroundings.
The prince’s garden was designed with exquisite taste—every flower, tree, and stone exuded elegance.
Spotting two perfectly spaced elms near a wall, Yao Huang’s eyes lit up. "We could tie a rope here for a swing. The shade would block the sun."
Zhao Sui: "If you enjoy swinging, have the craftsmen build proper frames. Safer than ropes, and you can place them wherever you like."
Yao Huang glanced at the top of his head. "I’ve only seen swings in paintings. At home, we always used ropes."
Zhao Sui made no comment.
Ahead lay a pond bisected by a narrow, zigzagging wooden bridge. The bridge was barely wider than the wheelchair, allowing two people to walk side by side with difficulty, and it had no railings.
Qingai, trailing farther behind, grew anxious again. The consort kept gazing around at the scenery—what if she got distracted and pushed the prince into the water?
Just as he debated whether to rush forward, Yao Huang admired the shimmering pond and asked Prince Hui wistfully, "Your Highness, I love this spot. May we linger here awhile?"
Zhao Sui nodded.
Delighted, Yao Huang parked the wheelchair beneath a willow tree by the bank, engaged the locking mechanism, then stepped to the water’s edge to peer in.
A few crimson koi drifted lazily in the pond’s center, while finger-length minnows darted through the clear depths.
The crystalline surface mirrored the azure sky, and Yao Huang’s admiration grew. "When I was learning etiquette at the Xiushu Pavilion, I regretted missing this year’s spring scenery outside the city. But now that I’ve seen your garden, Your Highness, I realize my fortune was simply waiting for me."
Outings to the countryside required long horseback rides, eating up time. The prince’s garden was far more convenient—and she didn’t have to share it with crowds!
To Zhao Sui, however, these sights were mundane. His expression remained indifferent.
Noticing this, Yao Huang reluctantly tore her gaze away and resumed pushing the wheelchair.
A verdant bamboo grove came into view, its stone path leading to a small courtyard nestled within.
Yao Huang paused at the entrance, curious. "Your Highness, what’s that place?"
Zhao Sui: "The Bamboo Garden. Since my illness, I’ve mostly resided there."
Yao Huang: "...And now...?"
Without turning, Zhao Sui replied as casually as if discussing the weather. "For the first three days after our wedding, I’ll stay with you. On the fifth, tenth, twentieth, and twenty-fifth of each month, as well as during festivals, I’ll spend the night at Ming’an Hall. The rest of the time, I’ll remain here. You may visit if you have matters to discuss. Otherwise, there’s no need."
"It’s not directed at you. It’s just that I prefer solitude now—even Qingai and Feiquan rarely attend to me personally."
"The servants are aware and won’t gossip about it."
Yao Huang understood. Glancing toward the secluded courtyard deep in the bamboo grove, she pushed the wheelchair forward and asked hesitantly, "Then what should I do when Your Highness isn’t at Ming'an Hall?"
Zhao Sui replied, "Stroll the gardens or go out—do as you please."
Yao Huang suddenly didn’t know whether to feel delighted or troubled.
The prince wasn’t restricting her; in fact, she seemed freer here than she had been in her parents’ home. Yet, with him secluded in the bamboo courtyard, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being left to a lonely existence.
Then again, that wasn’t entirely true. The prince would spend nights with her at regular intervals—
The 5th, 10th, 15th, 20th, 25th, and every third day… Hmm, six nights a month, with a few extra during festivals.
Romance novels often warned that excessive indulgence harmed a man’s health. Perhaps six times a month was just right? Especially for a man like the prince, whose mobility was limited—he needed to be even more cautious.
Not far from the bamboo grove, an empty half-acre plot appeared by the path.
As Yao Huang slowed her steps, Zhao Sui anticipated her question and explained, "This is the vegetable garden."
A vegetable garden—naturally, a place for planting crops. Wealthy families sometimes tilled the land themselves, both to honor agrarian traditions and to savor the rustic joys of farming.
When his legs were still strong, Zhao Sui had personally cultivated this plot each year. After his accident, though he no longer visited, the servants dared not alter it without his permission.
Yao Huang could guess the story behind this plot, but since the prince had kept it untouched, it suggested he wasn’t one to dwell on bitterness.
Brightening, she said, "My family had two vegetable patches in our backyard. I used to help my mother tend them since I was little—I can grow seven or eight types of vegetables! If Your Highness is willing, may I take charge of this plot?"
Zhao Sui answered indifferently, "Do as you like. Aside from the bamboo courtyard, you may alter the entire garden as you please."
That almost sounded like a sulky remark. Yao Huang wisely chose not to respond.
To the north of the garden lay a stretch of rolling hills. The couple passed four paths leading to the summit—two paved with stone steps, the other two with flagstones.
With every step, Yao Huang grew more aware of the servants’ anxious devotion to Prince Hui. Removing the steps might anger him, yet leaving them made his wheelchair difficult to maneuver—another source of frustration.
Even enjoying the scenery required such careful consideration. If they spent every day together, how much extra effort would she need just to manage Prince Hui’s moods?
Quickly leaving the hills behind, they arrived at the western part of the garden, where a vast, crystal-clear lake stretched before them. Peach and willow trees dotted the shore, while a pavilion stood on an islet at the center, connected by a covered bridge and waterside gallery.
Yao Huang’s spirits lifted instantly. She resolved to return in a few days for boating and fishing.
By midday, she decided against exploring the central garden for now. She’d save it for another time—when she could wander freely, leaving no rock or hidden grotto unchecked.
