Zhao Yan had always been a man of resolute character. Otherwise, how could he have stood by while Su Wanzhao was bullied for so many years? He was never a man to lose himself in romance. Throughout half a lifetime of effort, she had only managed to walk into his life and gain his admiration and respect, but she had never truly unlocked this man’s heart. He simply felt that the elegant, dignified, and tactful Su Wanzhao was worthy of the roles of Princess Consort and Empress—nothing more.
Weimo stood waiting by the door for a long time, watching as Su Wanzhao fretted to herself. "Weimo, is the Prince angry with me?"
Weimo helped her back into the room. "Didn't the Prince treat you very kindly just now? Why would he be angry?"
"But why did he leave so suddenly?"
"The Prince must have had pressing matters to attend to."
She picked up a jade comb to smooth Su Wanzhao’s hair. "My Lady, you need only remain true to your heart, and you and the Prince will surely live in harmony."
"Really?" Su Wanzhao’s eyes brightened.
"Yes." Weimo nodded. The comb stopped slowly at the ends of her hair. "The world is full of hypocrisy; only a genuine nature is rare. The Prince will surely love you for your candid spirit."
***
At nightfall, twelve palanquins of bridal gifts arrived from the palace. Weimo’s pale fingertips traced the phoenix and peony patterns on the boxes. She remembered her past life, when Su Wanzhao had used such beautiful boxes to take away her seven-month-old child.
"Weimo!"
The bead curtains chimed as Su Wanzhao rushed in, her jade ornaments clinking. The tassels brushed against Weimo’s cheek. "I’m so glad I have you."
The warmth of her breath against Weimo’s neck sent a shiver down her spine. Subconsciously, she shielded her lower abdomen.
"What’s wrong?" Su Wanzhao asked.
Weimo felt dazed. The Su Wanzhao before her, adorned in makeup, was exquisite and moving, not yet the jealous, ruthless Empress she would become. She shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Lady Su."
Both turned to look. It was Wei Xiao.
A smile touched the corners of Su Wanzhao’s eyes as she stepped forward. "Wei Xiao, is the Prince calling for me?"
Wei Xiao stepped aside. "The instructress from the palace has arrived. The Prince asks for your presence."
At these words, Su Wanzhao turned deathly pale. She grabbed Weimo’s forearm. "Weimo, what do I do? I’m afraid..."
Weimo took the girl’s hands into her own. "Do not be afraid, my Lady. The Prince is there; he will surely look out for you."
Only then did Su Wanzhao, twisting her handkerchief, follow him to Zhao Yan’s Qinshui Pavilion. In the Qiwu State, all women were expected to receive instruction from their mothers on the eve of their wedding. As Su Wanzhao was an orphan, the Empress had sent a governess to perform this role in her capacity as the mother of the nation. The instruction usually consisted of lecturing the bride on the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, followed by hypothetical questions. By custom, these questions usually concerned how a wife should handle a husband taking concubines, how to deal with a concubine seeking favor, or what to do if she failed to bear an heir.
Su Wanzhao knew this, but she did not know how to answer with poise. In her past life, Weimo had coached her repeatedly; though Su Wanzhao had lost her composure due to nerves, she had barely scraped by. This time, Weimo remained silent, leaving her to fend for herself. Zhao Yan would be present, and it would be a good opportunity for him to see for himself what kind of character Su Wanzhao truly possessed once the pretense was stripped away.
As they passed through the moon gate, the scent of mint drifted through the air. Zhao Yan sat upright in the pavilion, an ancient governess in palace attire standing beside him. As they headed toward the pavilion, Su Wanzhao’s toe caught on her hem. She stumbled into Weimo’s arms, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.
"Be at ease, my Lady," Weimo whispered, straightening the wobbling phoenix hairpin in her hair. "Whatever the governess asks, answer 'truthfully'."
The eyes of everyone present were fixed on Su Wanzhao. Weimo caught a flicker of suspicion on Zhao Yan’s face.
Mammy Liu stepped forward with a jade ledger. "May the Princess Consort be blessed. I am here by the order of the Empress to provide the traditional instruction."
Su Wanzhao knelt obediently on the prepared cushion. Mammy Liu began, "You are soon to be a wife. You must keep the Three Obediences and Four Virtues in mind: be chaste, be quiet, and regard your husband as your guide..."
As the sky darkened, Mammy Liu finally handed the jade ledger to Su Wanzhao. "The Princess Consort is radiant and a perfect match for the Prince."
"Really?" Su Wanzhao’s cheeks flushed. She handed the ledger to Weimo, lowering her head in shyness. "I... I am surely not worthy of the Prince."
The Mammy asked with a smile, "May I ask, Princess Consort: if the Prince insists on taking a secondary consort, how would you conduct yourself?"
"It is... it is..." Su Wanzhao suddenly turned to look at Weimo, who stood in the thin moonlight. The jade ledger in Weimo’s tray reflected a ghastly, pale glow.
"Wanzhao?" Zhao Yan tapped his fingers against the table. The sharp sound startled the birds.
"Naturally, it is..." Su Wanzhao swallowed the bitterness in her throat. "I should prepare the most spacious east courtyard for the younger sister."
"A generous Princess Consort," Mammy Liu remarked with satisfaction. "And if the secondary consort seeks to curry favor, what then?"
"I would... I would use family law to deal with her." She gripped her handkerchief tightly. "Those vixenish women who bewitch their masters ought to be kneeling in the Ancestral Hall... no, I mean... I mean..." A sudden, inexplicable panic made her shoulders tremble. "I should advise the sister to observe the rules of propriety."
Mammy Liu frowned, her eyes filled with dissatisfaction. She glanced sideways at the seated Zhao Yan. Zhao Yan was also frowning as he observed Su Wanzhao, the pages of his book fluttering in the breeze.
"And if the Princess Consort bears no children in three years, how would you arrange the matter of the lineage?"
"No... there must be no adoption... I should search far and wide for famous doctors to treat my illness!" Su Wanzhao suddenly grabbed her sleeves. "Children of concubines are someone else’s children; I... I..."
"Mind your tongue, Princess Consort!" Mammy Liu was instantly furious. "As the legal wife and mother, how can you call the Prince’s offspring 'someone else’s children'?"
Su Wanzhao scrambled back in terror, knocking over a gilded incense burner. Ash spilled onto the floor, rising in a cloud of white smoke.
"Furthermore, regarding your mention of 'family law'—do you know how far those words reach? How can you bring peace to the household with such brutality? Do you not know that Noble Consort Chen used that very family law ten years ago to—"
"Mammy." Zhao Yan suddenly lowered his book. "It is late."
Mammy Liu fell silent abruptly. Ten years ago, during that midsummer, Noble Consort Chen had used that family law to whip the sister of Imperial Noble Consort De to death. The cold-faced Prince before her had been very close to his aunt since childhood.
"I have lost my composure." The Mammy wiped her sweat with a silk handkerchief. Zhao Yan’s influence was at its peak, and even the Crown Prince had to avoid his edge; she dared not show any disrespect. "The matter is concluded. I shall take my leave."
"Has the Mammy forgotten something?"
Mammy Liu paused. "The Princess Consort is virtuous and kind. I wish the Prince and the Princess Consort a harmonious life together."
Zhao Yan’s hawk-like gaze swept over her. "See the Mammy out."
Once Mammy Liu had left, Su Wanzhao collapsed to the ground, her strength spent, hot tears streaming down her face. Zhao Yan crushed a tea stem in his cup, suddenly remembering that in his past life, Weimo had died while carrying his firstborn son—a regret that spanned two lifetimes. "Is this your 'truthful' answer?"
"Wanzhao was only... only..." Su Wanzhao knelt on the floor, at a loss.
Weimo knelt to help her up, her short, coarse hemp sleeves pulling back to reveal a thumb-sized burn scar on her wrist. "The lady is timid and has been plagued by nightmares lately. She must have been caught in a trance just now."
Zhao Yan caught sight of the burn scar. He recalled laying her body to rest in that other life, how pale her face had been, and how her knuckles had been covered in mottled, intricate scratches.
"Yes!" Su Wanzhao sobbed, covering her face. "I keep dreaming of bloody infants chasing me for my life..."
"Since you are unwell," Zhao Yan said, raising his book to hide his face, "the wedding ceremony tomorrow shall be simplified. You should get some rest."
Su Wanzhao suddenly crawled forward on her knees, her frantic movements knocking over Zhao Yan’s tea cup. "Prince, believe me! I have waited so long for this wedding—how can it be simplified?"
Zhao Yan felt a sudden sense of strangeness. In his past life, no matter what happened, Wanzhao had always maintained the poise of a noblewoman. How had she become so unhinged?
"Withdraw," he said coldly, his interest suddenly lost.
Su Wanzhao bit her lip, looking at him in disbelief, but all she saw was the cold, unyielding book.
Weimo used her soft hand to wipe the tears from Su Wanzhao’s face. "Do not cry, my Lady. You will ruin your eyes."
"Weimo," Zhao Yan’s voice sounded from behind them. "Take good care of your lady."