80. A Beauty Like a Rainbow Beyond the Clouds

Northern landscapes, snow covers all for a thousand miles.

“Princess Consort, Her Majesty the Empress has sent you a surprise.”

Xu Guiyi had just risen at dawn, and Nurse Wu was already waiting outside the folding screen adorned with a snow scene of purple-gold cloud foxes. Her voice was clear and gentle.

A jade hairpin with the motif of acacia flowers was tucked into her temple; Xu Guiyi twisted the purple jade bracelet on her wrist, stood up, and frowned in thought. “What surprise? Delivered so early in the morning.” Speaking as she walked outdoors, eager to see what it was, Xiyue and the others hurried after her.

At the foot of the steps of Chunhui Hall stood a peerless beauty, fair as snow and lovely as flowers, waiting respectfully in the snow.

“Boss Qi?” Xu Guiyi exclaimed in surprise. The person sent by the Empress turned out to be Qi Xiangsi!

“Your humble servant greets Your Highness,” Qi Xiangsi bowed respectfully, her loose hair framing her brow.

“Nurse, what is this about?” Xu Guiyi looked to Nurse Wu, not understanding the Empress’s intent.

Nurse Wu smiled warmly, “Didn’t Your Highness say you like Boss Qi’s martial roles? Her Majesty has bestowed her upon you.”

This...

Xu Guiyi: “...” Everyone, except Xu Guiyi, seemed quite pleased, and the happiest of all was Qi Xiangsi herself.

She bowed again, her smile blossoming like a flower. “Princess Consort, not only can I play martial roles, I can perform female roles as well. Scholar, maiden, painted-face, elder, clown—I can do them all. I can also play the qin.”

Nurse Wu quickly added, “When Your Highness is bored, Miss Qi’s eighteen skills can amuse you.”

Xu Guiyi stared at Qi Xiangsi in amazement. Snow fell upon her shoulders, yet she seemed unaware, still wearing that gentle smile—a stark contrast to the day she played Zhao Zilong on stage.

“Boss Qi, come up quickly, the snow outside is heavy, don’t catch cold.” Xu Guiyi hurriedly beckoned.

Qi Xiangsi ascended the steps slowly; Xu Guiyi personally brushed the snow from her cloak.

“Princess Consort, from now on, just call me Xiaojin.”

Xu Guiyi’s gaze was puzzled. She listened as Qi Xiangsi continued, “My surname is Pei. 'Xianle' is my stage name, 'Xiangsi' is a name for my female roles. My parents called me by my childhood name, Jin.”

Pei Jin???

Xu Guiyi was momentarily speechless, “Pei... Jin?” It seemed... she’d heard it somewhere before?

The woman bowed again, her voice as melodious as the heavens, “I am Pei Jin, at your service, Your Highness.”

Xu Guiyi fell silent, unsure what to say. So it was the sound of wind through bamboo, mistaken for the chime of gold pendants under the moon. As the moon shifted and shadows moved, one wondered if it was a jade beauty approaching.

Thus, from now on, there was no Xianle, no Qi Xiangsi, only Pei Jin in the Eastern Palace.

Winter favors dense snow, which rings like shattered jade; it favors playing the qin, its melodies harmonious; it favors poetry, with clear and exquisite verses; it favors the game of Go, with the clatter of stones; it favors pitch-pot, with arrows clanging in the urn.

This winter, though the Crown Prince was confined to the Eastern Palace, Chunhui Hall was bustling. No, the entire Eastern Palace was lively.

Cheng Hewei had asked Xu Guiyi more than once, “Sister, is this Xiaojin girl really from a brothel? She seems capable of anything!”

She could play the qin, recite poetry—both of which delighted Lu Zhirou; she could play Go, and every few days could challenge An Ruosu; she could play pitch-pot, which Cheng Hewei had longed for an opponent in, and now she had Pei Jin.

Since her arrival, everyone’s days became much more interesting. The only thing lacking was a stage in the palace, and with the bitter cold, Xu Guiyi wouldn’t let her freeze.

Curious beyond measure, Xu Guiyi went to Yonghui Pavilion today to ask the Crown Prince for help. No sooner had she explained her reason than Fu Lancheng presented her with a stack of letters. Xu Guiyi took them and saw Pei Jin’s life story meticulously recorded, even her parents and clan had been thoroughly investigated.

His Highness the Crown Prince was truly brilliant, though he never made much of himself.

“Her family lived in Pingyin for generations, moved to Guangling twenty years ago, her parents committed suicide at age ten due to a crime, and she was confiscated as an official courtesan... The Pei clan of Pingyin seems unrelated to the Marquis of Wujing.”

Xu Guiyi mused, “Such a coincidental name, I thought perhaps she was connected to the young heir of the Marquis of Wujing.”

A loud “clang”—without looking, she knew it was Fu Lancheng’s teacup.

“Princess Consort, what do you mean by that?” Fu Lancheng’s voice turned icy.

Xu Guiyi remained gentle and composed, “It’s not that I’m suspicious, but the name is... such an odd coincidence.” Otherwise, you wouldn’t have investigated Pei Jin’s ancestry in such detail!

“The Pei clan was once scholarly, but her parents were convicted over a minor case and took their own lives, leaving her to become a courtesan. She became famous at fourteen, met Prince An at sixteen, left the capital at eighteen, and is twenty-three this year. She’s the same age as His Highness, even born in the same month... Is there truly such a strange coincidence?” Xu Guiyi was amazed.

Fu Lancheng seemed to recall something, his speech momentarily distracted.

“Princess Consort, do you think there truly exist twins who are split into two separate lives?” His gaze was penetrating, commanding the soul.

Xu Guiyi felt inexplicably uneasy, “Your Highness, why suddenly mention the rumor of twins?”

Fu Lancheng himself didn’t know why he asked—it seemed absurd even to him. When Pei Zhaojin died, he lingered in the Eastern Palace for half a year, seeking sages and priests, hoping his Azhao hadn’t died but lived somewhere in the world.

But batch after batch of Daoist priests failed to give him any answer, and he had to let go. When he finally accepted that Pei Zhaojin was gone, fate gave him a Princess Consort whose eyes so resembled Azhao’s.

The likeness was uncanny; he feared he’d blurt out Azhao’s name when looking into those eyes.

But Azhao was a man, while the Princess Consort had always been the daughter of the Xu family. He had sent people to investigate—Xu Guiyi had always been Xu Yan’s daughter. Her mother died young, but indeed, Xu Guiyi existed even while Azhao was alive.

His Azhao was vibrant and passionate, flamboyant and untamed; his Princess Consort was gentle, reserved, rule-abiding—the very model of a proper lady.

They were so utterly different, how could they be the same person?

“It’s nothing, I just read a strange tale yesterday about twins. Today, it came to mind, so I asked on a whim.”

He listened to his own voice, calm and unhurried.

In this world, there was Xu Guiyi, whose eyes resembled Azhao’s, and Pei Jin, whose name echoed his, but never again Pei Zhaojin.

When the Pei household was exterminated, there was no way to investigate Pei Zhaojin’s origins.

Everyone was entranced by the festivities. May the new year surpass the old.

Because it was Prince Chu’s birthday again, the little prince clung to his father’s leg all afternoon, shaking until he was dizzy. At last, His Majesty decreed that the Crown Prince’s confinement was lifted.

Prince Chu did not get his fifth brother’s thanks, but instead received a basketful of ancient books and scrolls...

As Fu Lancheng sorted through them, Xu Guiyi could hardly bear it and spoke up, “Your Highness, Prince Chu is only eleven, still a child. You’re giving him ‘Taiping Yulan,’ ‘Yulan Jingyi,’ ‘Twenty-Four Histories,’ ‘Famous Ministers’ Memorials’—can he even comprehend them?”

Fu Lancheng paused, considering seriously. “I've always tracked Xiao Ba’s studies. At eight, he learned ‘Zhongyong’; at nine, ‘Book of Rites’; at ten, ‘Six Tao.’ With some effort, he should manage these.”

Xu Guiyi herself disliked reading and naturally disagreed, protesting, “Your Highness, these are books for heirs to the throne, Prince Chu is just an ordinary prince, destined to live a wealthy, leisurely life. Besides, I’ve noticed Lady De doesn’t demand so much of him...”

Fu Lancheng placed the thick stack of books into the basket, fixing his gaze on Xu Guiyi, “How can you be certain my brother will only be an ordinary prince, and not the heir?”

Xu Guiyi: “...”!!!!

Fu Lancheng’s meaning?

“Your Highness... are you joking?” Xu Guiyi was truly anxious. Such an important matter seemed trivial in Fu Lancheng’s hands.

Fu Lancheng’s phoenix eyes flashed, “Does the Princess Consort think I am joking?”

Xu Guiyi’s heart tightened; she pitied Fu Xun, unwilling for him to be drawn into imperial struggles. In her anxiety, she blurted out, “Though I am foolish, I understand your wishes. You know the ceaseless power struggles and palace intrigues—why insist on pushing Prince Chu forward?” She spoke her true feelings.

Fu Lancheng, however, smiled instead of getting angry, “How strange. I have several brothers; why does the Princess Consort care only for Prince Chu?”

Xu Guiyi remained noncommittal, “Your Highness, are you avoiding the question?”

Fu Lancheng’s voice turned cold, “Did you not also avoid mine?”

Xu Guiyi’s face changed drastically at his words, quickly lowering her gaze to avoid his scrutiny, replying, “Prince Chu is Your Highness’s brother; naturally, he is mine as well.”

Fu Lancheng laughed lightly, “Prince Chu is gifted and pure-hearted, not inferior to any prince. I have high hopes for him—what is wrong with that?” But these are not just ordinary hopes!

Xu Guiyi, as elder sister, felt tender concern for Prince Chu and wished to shield him from harm.

But Fu Lancheng was different: the strict elder, the stern father. He hated the imperial power struggle incited by the Emperor, loathed the palace chaos stirred by the Empress, but did not despise supreme authority itself.

He was a man—upright, dignified, a man who naturally admired strength and aspired to imperial greatness. He longed to rise to the pinnacle, as any ambitious man would. It was only his experiences that had disappointed him in his family and parents, making him so disillusioned.

Fu Xun was his most beloved brother, so he naturally wanted to give him what he thought was best in the world.

In the study, Fu Lancheng and Xu Guiyi were at an impasse over Fu Xun’s future when Nurse Wu’s voice sounded from outside.

“Your Highness, Princess Consort, the time to enter the palace has come. You must prepare to depart.”

It was New Year’s Eve, the palace banquet was set, and all princes and nobles would attend.

“We know. The Crown Prince and I are nearly ready, we’ll set off soon.” Xu Guiyi collected her cold gaze and called out cheerfully to Nurse Wu outside.

Turning, she saw Fu Lancheng’s face in the shifting light. He had bold brows and deep eyes. When silent, he exuded a cool, noble aura. But in the bright glow, his brows softened, lips pressed gently, as if lost in thought. In that instant, the chill receded, revealing the calm and regal bearing unique to a prince—truly, his features were as picturesque as a painting.