The Crown Prince was utterly baffled by Princess Jinse’s sudden reaction.
He turned to look at the Third Prince, who merely spread his hands to show that he had no idea what was going on either.
The Crown Prince turned back to his sister. Seeing her on the verge of tears, he frowned.
“Jinse, what’s wrong? Who bullied you? Tell your brother.”
Princess Jinse sniffed hard, forcing back the tears that were about to fall. She wiped her face carelessly with the back of her hand, her voice thick with tears.
“No one bullied me. I just… I just regret it! Why did I have to go to that stupid birthday banquet? Birthdays happen every year, but Young Master Shi’s cuju matches are a rare sight!”
The Crown Prince looked at his sister’s aggrieved expression, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but he had no idea where to begin.
He reached out and patted her shoulder, softening his voice. “All right, all right. Don’t cry. Next time there’s a cuju match, I’ll have someone inform you ahead of time so you can come early.”
Princess Jinse’s eyes lit up at the words “next time,” but they dimmed again almost immediately.
She had just remembered something—something that made her feel even worse.
She looked up at the Crown Prince, then at the Third Prince. Bitterness colored her voice.
“Do you invite Shi Huai to every cuju match? Do you get to play with him every time?”
The Crown Prince and the Third Prince exchanged a glance, then nodded at the same time.
Their perfectly synchronized movement looked almost rehearsed. The unspoken understanding between them only made Princess Jinse feel more aggrieved.
“Then I’m going too! I want to play cuju with you!”
Princess Jinse thrust out her chest and raised her chin slightly, doing her best to look perfectly justified.
“I’m a royal prince too—no, I’m a princess! Why can’t I go?”
The Crown Prince felt a headache coming on. He raised a hand to massage his temple, his voice tinged with helplessness.
“Jinse, the cuju field is full of men. What would a girl like you be doing there? What if you got hurt? Mother would blame me.”
At those words, Princess Jinse’s nose turned red, and the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.
Drop by drop, they fell onto the yellow collar of her robe, spreading into small dark patches.
She wiped at them with her sleeve, her voice trembling with tears.
“You’re both bullying me!”
“You get to play with Shi Huai, talk to him, and watch him smile, while I’m stuck here listening to you talk about it! It’s not fair!”
Seeing his sister crying her eyes out, the Third Prince couldn’t bear it. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it out to her, his voice gentler now.
“All right, all right. Don’t cry. If you really want to see Shi Huai, can’t you simply visit his residence whenever you like?”
Princess Jinse took the handkerchief and dabbed at her face. Then she looked up at her Third Imperial Brother, her eyes and nose red, making her look utterly pitiful.
“Really?”
The Third Prince nodded, a warm smile curling his lips. “Why would I lie to you? Once we—”
At once, Princess Jinse’s eyes brightened, like a drowning person who had just caught hold of a lifeline.
She stuffed the handkerchief back into the Third Prince’s hand, spun around, and dashed toward the palace gates. Her footsteps were swift as the wind. By the time the palace maids realized what was happening, she had already run a long way ahead.
“Princess! Princess, slow down! It’s already dark—where are you going?”
The palace maidservants chased after her, panting for breath. Their skirts billowed in the wind, while their hairpins and ornaments jingled all the way.
Without turning her head, Princess Jinse called back, “To the Yongning Marquis’s residence! Don’t follow me!”
Her voice drifted away into the dusk, carrying all the heedless willfulness of a spoiled young lady.
The Third Prince stared in stunned silence.
“I meant for her to go during the day. It’s already night…”
Before Shi Huai could even find out who had arrived, a yellow-robed figure came rushing out from the courtyard.
Princess Jinse stood on the steps, gathering up her skirts with both hands. Her eyes shone brightly as she gazed at Shi Huai, and the smile at the corners of her lips refused to fade.
“Young Master Shi, you’re finally back! I’ve been waiting for you for more than half an hour. My legs are sore from standing.”
Her voice carried the coquettish complaint and undisguised delight peculiar to a young girl. In the dusk, her yellow jacket looked like a blooming spring flower.
Shi Huai stared at the princess who had arrived without invitation and paused briefly. Then he gave her a proper bow.
“Shi Huai pays his respects to Your Highness. What brings you here?”
Princess Jinse hopped down from the steps and walked over to him, tilting her head back to look up at him.
“I came to find you. Didn’t you say you would teach me how to write poetry? I waited for several days after I went home, but you never came, so I had to come myself.”
Her excuse sounded perfectly reasonable to her, carrying the self-assurance only a pampered child could possess.
Shi Huai thought back. When had he ever said he would teach the princess how to write poetry?
He did not call her out on it, however. He merely smiled and stepped aside to clear the doorway.
“Please come in, Your Highness. The wind is strong outside. Don’t catch a chill.”
Those words—“Don’t catch a chill”—filled Princess Jinse with warmth, as though she had just drunk a steaming bowl of jujube and ginger tea that warmed her from her throat all the way down to her stomach.
She gathered up her skirts and crossed the threshold, her steps as light as a little rabbit’s.
The two palace maids behind her hurried to follow. One carried a food box, while the other held a bundle. They looked less like people who had come to study poetry and more like guests preparing to stay for good.
In the main hall of Shou'an Hall, Qinghe had already lit the lamps. Their orange-yellow glow danced across the room, bathing everything in a warm light.
Tangerine was crouched on the windowsill, its round eyes fixed on the unfamiliar newcomer.
The moment Princess Jinse entered, she spotted the orange cat, and her eyes lit up.
“What a fat cat! What’s its name?”
“Tangerine.” Shi Huai walked over to the window and flicked Tangerine lightly on the head.
“Tangerine, pay your respects to the princess.”
Tangerine narrowed its eyes at the flick. Not only did it ignore Princess Jinse, but it turned around and presented its rump to her, swishing its tail through the air with the haughty bearing of a tiny emperor.
Princess Jinse was amused by the cat’s arrogance and reached out to pet it.
With a plaintive “meow,” Tangerine leaped down from the windowsill and darted to Shi Huai’s feet, rubbing its head against his boots. Its fawning behavior was completely different from how it had acted a moment before.
“Why is it affectionate only with you? It runs away whenever I try to touch it.”
Princess Jinse crouched down and tilted her head as she looked at Tangerine, a trace of grievance in her voice.
Shi Huai bent down, scooped Tangerine up, and placed it in Princess Jinse’s arms.
Tangerine struggled briefly. When it realized it could not escape, it resigned itself to its fate and curled up in the princess’s embrace, narrowing its eyes as it let out a reluctant “meow.”
Holding the warm ball of orange fur, Princess Jinse’s heart pounded like a drum.
She secretly glanced up at Shi Huai and saw him untying the cords of his cloak.
