The carriage was luxurious and comfortable, with even the cushions embroidered with intricate floral patterns. Jiuzhu reached out and touched them, finding them as soft as clouds.
She lifted a corner of the curtain, and the bustling sights of the capital filled her view.
In the distance, the sound of hoofbeats grew closer, gradually slowing as they approached the carriage. It seemed the rider had reined in their horse.
"Whose carriage is that ahead?"
"Your Highness, it appears to belong to someone from Bright Moon Palace."
Jiuzhu had always had excellent hearing. She leaned out to look at the speaker.
The well-dressed man on horseback raised his eyes and met her gaze.
Jiuzhu gave him a slight nod before retreating back into the carriage, her hand brushing against the phoenix hairpin at her temple.
The golden hairpin was still there. She felt reassured—it was worth a fortune.
The carriage passed through the palace gates without inspection. The imperial guards, recognizing that the occupant was the future Princess Consort of Chen, simply let it through.
After traveling a short distance further, Jiuzhu stepped out of the carriage. The people from Bright Moon Palace had prepared a palanquin for her.
As the daughter of a court official, it was almost unheard of for someone to ride a palanquin within the palace. However, Jiuzhu had just returned to the capital, and her family treated her like a precious treasure they had recovered. They had never subjected her to the usual formalities in front of higher-ranking officials, so she was unaware of such customs.
Seeing that the palace had prepared a palanquin for her, she obediently climbed in, even complimenting the intricate carvings on the armrests.
The court lady smiled kindly. "Her Ladyship also loves this pattern. She says it’s lively and prosperous, bringing joy to those who see it."
Jiuzhu thought to herself, no wonder Consort Su was the emperor’s favorite. Even her taste was exceptional.
Her own taste aligned with Consort Su’s, which meant she, too, had refined sensibilities.
Any lingering anxiety she had vanished, and she sat up straight, brimming with confidence.
Back at the Ming Family residence, Chunfen was deeply concerned about her young mistress, who had just entered the palace.
"Madam, what if the young lady unknowingly offends Consort Su? She doesn’t know the palace etiquette."
"Don’t worry," Madam Shen replied, flipping through the household accounts. "Jiuzhu is our only daughter. If she makes any mistakes, the palace will likely turn a blind eye. Even if Consort Su takes a dislike to her, so be it."
In fact, it might even be for the best. If both sides disliked each other, there might still be room to reconsider the marriage arrangement.
At Bright Moon Palace, the incense burner emitted a faint wisp of smoke. Consort Su reclined lazily on a carved soft chair, her expression neutral as she gazed toward the door, lost in thought.
When footsteps echoed outside, she straightened up and gently touched the jade bracelet on her wrist.
"Your Ladyship, Miss Ming has arrived."
Consort Su lifted her eyelids and looked at the young girl entering the room. At first glance, her gaze lingered.
There was a rare kind of beauty in the world—one that could evoke tenderness in men and warmth in women.
She never expected that Ming Jingzhou, such a stern and rigid scholar, could have a daughter like this.
"Your servant pays respects to Consort Su." Upon seeing Consort Su’s face, Jiuzhu’s eyes curved into crescents.
She had seen this lady before.
"No need for formalities. Please, take a seat." Consort Su gestured for the court lady to help Jiuzhu up. Once Jiuzhu was seated, she asked, "I heard you were frail as a child and raised in a Taoist temple. Now that you’ve returned to the capital, are you adjusting well?"
This was the story the Ming Family had told the outside world, but the truth was known only to the emperor. Back then, the three Ming brothers had been exiled to a harsh region for the sake of the current emperor. This matter had been tightly concealed, known only to the emperor and the Ming Family.
"Everything is fine," Jiuzhu replied after a moment of thought. "My parents treat me like a precious gem, and my uncles and aunts are always kind..."
As she spoke of her life since returning to the capital, her eyes filled with happiness. "But..."
Her expression dimmed slightly. "I miss my two masters."
Seeing the light fade from Jiuzhu’s bright eyes, Consort Su couldn’t help but consider how to bring the two masters back to the capital. The poor girl looked so forlorn.
"If you miss them, I can arrange for them to come to the capital."
"Thank you, Your Ladyship, but they prefer to stay in Lingzhou."
In truth, her masters had said that the capital was too crowded and chaotic, its energy unsuitable for cultivating health.
Jiuzhu naturally wouldn’t mention that her masters found the capital’s feng shui unfavorable. A clever girl like her knew what to say and what to keep to herself. "My masters are practitioners of the Dao. I wouldn’t want to force them."
"Lingzhou..." Consort Su recalled accompanying the emperor there years ago. The landscape was picturesque, with morning mists drifting over the river. "It is indeed a lovely place."
"Your Ladyship," Jiuzhu asked curiously, "I heard you have a precious painting here. Might I have the honor of seeing it?"
Having never seen a truly valuable painting before, Jiuzhu felt a small thrill of anticipation.
Consort Su’s hand paused as she sipped her tea. The invitation to view the painting had merely been a pretext to bring Jiuzhu into the palace. Who would take it seriously?
Every noblewoman in the court knew Consort Su had no interest in poetry or art.
Yet, seeing the eager look in Jiuzhu’s eyes, she slowly turned to her personal maid. "Go to my private collection and fetch the painting."
Two incense sticks later, the maid returned with a scroll, carefully unrolling it before Jiuzhu.
Jiuzhu stared intently at the painting, trying to appreciate the wonders of a masterpiece.
What on earth was this?
Plum blossoms blooming in the depths of winter made sense, but why were there butterflies flying around?
And why was a cat sleeping in the snow? Didn’t cats feel the cold?
But this was a famous painting, so it couldn’t be wrong. The fault must lie in her own lack of appreciation.
Jiuzhu glanced at the painting and then surreptitiously at Consort Su, who was also admiring the artwork. She pondered how to comment without embarrassing herself in front of such a beautiful lady.
"The cat is quite adorable, very lively," Jiuzhu ventured.
"Isn’t it?" Consort Su leaned closer. "The eyes are so round."
The court lady took a closer look. The round black dots weren’t eyes—they were tufts of fur on the cat’s face.
"The plum blossoms are also well done. Even in such cold weather, they attract butterflies. The artist must have been very bold."
"Indeed," Consort Su agreed. "The bamboo shoot under the plum tree is also well-painted. It looks fresh and tender, as if it would taste delicious."
"And the snow," Jiuzhu added, encouraged by Consort Su’s agreement. She suddenly realized that this must be what people called natural talent. Even though she knew nothing about the painting, she had somehow managed to capture its essence.
What did this mean?
It meant she was a rare genius in the world of art.
"What about the snow?" Consort Su asked curiously.
"As the saying goes, 'Auspicious snow promises a good harvest,'" Jiuzhu declared confidently. "This painting clearly foretells a prosperous year ahead. Your Ladyship is truly as kind and beautiful as a fairy. Even the painting you’ve collected wishes for a bright future."
Consort Su chuckled. "A fairy? You flatter me, Miss Ming."
The court officials often whispered that she was a seductress. This was the first time someone had called her a kind and beautiful fairy.
"Your Ladyship, I’m not jesting," Jiuzhu repeated earnestly. "You are like a fairy, and your child is like a celestial being."
"He’s far too grown to be called a celestial being," Consort Su laughed again, her gaze softening as she looked at Jiuzhu. "I heard your given name is Jiuzhu. May I call you that?"
"As you wish, Your Ladyship," Jiuzhu nodded. "I don’t mind."
"Jiuzhu is a good name," Consort Su said, taking Jiuzhu’s hand and guiding her to sit. "It’s full of blessings. Your parents must love you dearly, treating you like a precious jewel, to give you such a name."
The scholars in the capital prided themselves on elegance, often naming their children with references to classical texts, avoiding anything too common.
The name Jiuzhu was both refined and simple, a testament to the joy and anticipation her parents had felt at her birth.
"Your Ladyship is so wise," Jiuzhu said admiringly. From just her name, Consort Su had discerned the depth of her parents’ love.
Her masters had told her that when they found her in the wilderness, her swaddling clothes were made of patchwork fabric, some fine, some coarse, but all meticulously sewn.
They often told her that she had been born into a family that cherished her, but fate had separated her from them.
At that time, the court was in turmoil, with countless officials and generals caught up in the power struggles between princes. Some families were destroyed, others torn apart, and some even faced execution, their entire clans wiped out.
Her masters, moved by compassion and seeing no notices posted in the city about a missing infant, had taken her in.
On the cloth strip sewn into her swaddling clothes were her birth date and name. Her master told her, "It seems your parents, in their urgency, entrusted you to someone else, and fearing they might forget your name and birth date, they prepared this specifically."
So from a young age, she knew she was brought into this world out of love, not as an unnecessary burden.
In the imperial study, Ming Jingzhou stood respectfully, though the unusually amiable look in the Emperor's eyes today did little to improve his mood.
"Minister Ming," the Emperor drawled, "you are a pillar of the court, and the child you raised is a talented young man. I believe your daughter is as outstanding as you and your esteemed wife."
"Your Majesty, my daughter grew up in the wilderness, ignorant of etiquette and unworthy of being a royal consort."
"How fitting," the Emperor's smile grew even more pronounced. "Our fifth son is also a free spirit who cares little for formalities. It seems they are a perfect match."
Ming Jingzhou: "..."
Wasn't that an insult? Who could possibly be a perfect match for the Prince of Chen?
"Minister Ming, there's no need for such modesty. I have decided that your daughter will be my daughter-in-law," Emperor Longfeng set down his brush and walked over to Ming Jingzhou, patting his shoulder lightly. "If you continue to be so humble, I might start to think you look down on the bloodline of the Yun family."
"Your servant wouldn't dare," Ming Jingzhou bowed slowly, his face pale.
Emperor Longfeng laughed heartily, "I was only jesting, dear minister. There's no need to be so tense. Between relatives, there's no need for such formality in private."
Ming Jingzhou inwardly cursed the Yun royal family's ancestors eighteen generations back, but he dared not utter a word.
Knowing that further objections would only anger the Emperor, Ming Jingzhou chose to take his leave.
After ordering a eunuch to personally escort Ming Jingzhou out of the palace, Emperor Longfeng turned to his personal eunuch and asked, "Did someone from Bright Moon Palace come earlier?"
"Your Majesty, Consort Su sent someone to borrow a painting. Seeing that you were in discussion with Minister Ming, I took the liberty of selecting one for her."
Emperor Longfeng was not angered but rather pleased. It seemed his beloved consort was quite satisfied with this marriage arrangement. To ensure a harmonious relationship with her future daughter-in-law, she had even taken the initiative to appreciate paintings.
"Which painting did you choose?"
"The masterpiece from the previous dynasty, *The Four Seasons of Absurdity*."
"Good," Emperor Longfeng nodded in approval. The painting was originally created to mock those who painted without understanding the changes of the seasons, resulting in mismatched elements. Its meaning was straightforward, bizarre, and amusing, making it ideal for beginners to appreciate.
"Very well."
