Chapter 94

Proofreader: Mim

“You two have come at the perfect time. The guest of honor for today’s flower-viewing banquet is here at last,” Xie Shencong said to Prince Feng, before turning his gaze to Li Zhi. “And seeing Director Li here as well, it must be fate. Why don’t you join us? Who knows, today we may see the makings of some golden matches.”

Golden matches? In front of Xie Lanxu, these words were nothing short of a death sentence for her.

Li Zhi, though unwilling, couldn’t openly contradict the emperor. Suppressing her displeasure, she was forced to blend into the emperor’s enormous entourage, following them toward Yaohua Palace.

When they arrived, the flower-viewing banquet was already in full swing.

This time, Noble Consort Yi’s flower banquet was not limited to the women of the harem. Instead, it was a grand occasion, with invitations extended to the young unmarried sons and daughters of every notable family in the capital. Almost every prominent figure in the city was present. In contrast, the harem concubines were few and far between—Lu Yao among them, no doubt brought here on the emperor’s whim.

Lu Yao, the fastest-rising concubine in the past decade, was the center of attention among the gathered noblewomen. Surrounded by palace attendants, she gracefully responded to greetings from various noble ladies, maintaining her composure even amidst the flurry of polite inquiries. Amidst the crowd, she caught sight of Li Zhi from afar and shot her a helpless look—one that seemed to say, We’re both stuck in this together.

It was evident to anyone with eyes that this was, in truth, a selection banquet for the Prince Feng, with him enjoying absolute priority.

As soon as the banquet began, Li Zhi intentionally moved toward the quieter areas of the garden. She had no desire to catch anyone’s eye, nor did she think she would take an interest in anyone else. Better to leave the space to those with ambitions.

The rear garden of Noble Consort Yi’s palace was famously known as a miniature imperial garden, with winding paths and lush blooms vying for attention in the late summer.

Passing by clusters of chrysanthemums and peonies without pause, Li Zhi wandered toward a secluded spot. There, she stumbled upon a towering osmanthus tree—a giant among flowers.

She had never seen such a massive osmanthus tree before. By her estimate, it was at least a century old, its trunk so thick that even two people could not encircle it with their arms.

Its canopy spread wide, covered with delicate, pale yellow blossoms. Standing beneath it was like standing in a fragrant sea.

The aroma of the flowers came in waves, carried by the breeze, enveloping her. The crowd’s focus was on the chrysanthemums and peonies, leaving the area around the osmanthus tree completely deserted.

Li Zhi closed her eyes and basked in the solitude, savoring the overwhelming fragrance.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind.

She instinctively thought of Xie Lanxu and imagined his sulking expression. Sweet words coated in honey were already forming on her lips as she turned around, smiling, only to see a different face altogether.

It was Prince Feng, Xie Fengshao.

Both of them froze.

For a moment, Xie Fengshao appeared encouraged by her unintentional smile. Stepping boldly into the golden carpet of fallen osmanthus blossoms, he stopped directly in front of her.

Li Zhi quickly lowered her gaze and offered a brief curtsy before attempting to leave.

“Wait,” Xie Fengshao said.

She halted reluctantly.

“Today,” he said firmly, “I need answers.”

“…What would Your Highness like to ask?”

“The capital is rife with rumors about your… close relationship with Prince Langya.” He hesitated, struggling to voice his true question. Finally, gritting his teeth, he said, “Is it true? Have your feelings… changed?”

The shock was impossible to hide from Li Zhi’s face.

A gentle breeze rustled the branches above, and a golden rain of osmanthus petals fell between them, fluttering in the air.

Xie Fengshao’s gaze dropped to her left wrist.

Then, slowly, he reached into his collar and pulled out a red string necklace.

Hanging from it was a pale white shell, dulled by time.

“If your heart has changed,” he said quietly, “then why do you still wear that bracelet?”

Li Zhi’s breath caught in her throat. Her wide eyes fell on the shell necklace in his hand, nearly identical to the shell on her own bracelet.

For a fleeting moment, memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Xie Fengshao, ever the image of wealth and refinement, with his exquisite jade hairpins and belts adorned with ivory… who would have guessed that beneath his finely embroidered robes, he wore something so plain and weathered?

“I…”

She opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words.

“Do you remember?” Xie Fengshao’s voice was tinged with sorrow.

“I first saw you when I was eleven, at the birthday banquet hosted by the Imperial College Chancellor.” His gaze softened as he spoke.

“You were just a girl, like the others, but you were… different. The Chancellor’s daughters chattered endlessly, speaking nonsense, while the other girls yawned or tried to show off their wit with sharp retorts. But you…”

“You sat there quietly, listening patiently, smiling gently like an older sister. Whenever you nodded, the pearl earrings you wore would sway, small and round, as white as snow.”

“I watched you from a pavilion in the distance, completely entranced. When the Chancellor’s son teased me for staring, I ended up fighting him.”

“I won the fight,” he added with a faint smile, “but I was so ashamed of being caught that I left the banquet early.”

Xie Fengshao’s tone grew more wistful as he continued.

“After that, I tried to learn where you’d be. Whenever I could, I found excuses to attend the same events, hoping for even the briefest glance of you. Even though we never spoke… I thought our hearts were aligned.”

Memories of carefully orchestrated encounters flashed through his mind, each one filled with longing and quiet hope.

And now, standing beneath the golden osmanthus tree, he looked at her with the pain of someone who had cherished those memories far more than she ever realized.

They met time and time again, through the passing days and nights.

He gave her the first red plum blossom that bloomed defiantly in the icy cold atop Yushan Mountain. She once sent him a golden ginkgo leaf, brilliant in the autumn sun.

She came to love red, while he found himself filled with joy at the sight of a blooming cereus.

He had believed their hearts were connected.

“But if that wasn’t the case, then why did your sister say what she said during the southern tour?” Xie Fengshao asked, his voice tinged with pain.

Li Zhi’s voice turned hoarse. “My sister… What did she say?”

“Back then, you had already started avoiding me. I was so troubled that I couldn’t figure out why. Even during the southern tour, my mind was preoccupied with unanswered questions. One night, unable to sleep, I went for a walk on the beach and encountered your sister there.”

“She was collecting shells,” he continued, “saying she wanted to string them into a bracelet to give to you.”

Li Zhi’s heart trembled violently. It took all her strength to say, “And then?”

“I shared my doubts with her,” Xie Fengshao said, his voice growing quieter as if speaking to himself. “At that time, I felt like a lost fly without a head, unable to make sense of anything. Everything I thought I knew seemed to have been a figment of my imagination. Perhaps I had done something wrong, but I had no idea what. I hoped your sister could guide me, to tell me whether everything had been one-sided on my part, whether my kindness had become a burden to her sister.”

“But your sister said…”

Xie Fengshao’s mind filled with the image of Li Xia from that night.

The endless sound of waves crashing against the shore seemed to mirror the turmoil in his heart. The surf repeatedly washed over their feet as they stood under the moonlight, its silvery glow casting an otherworldly light on them.

He must have looked utterly heartbroken—like a child caught up in his grievances—because even the ever-cheerful Li Xia had an uncharacteristic sadness in her eyes.

“Prince Feng, you’ve done nothing wrong. My sister is not angry with you.”

“Then why does she avoid me?” he had asked desperately.

“When we went to the temple to offer incense, a traveling monk told us that if one could suppress worldly desires and secular attachments for five years, they could form a lifelong bond with their beloved, ensuring three lifetimes of fated love. My sister likely avoided you for this reason. If the Prince Feng truly has feelings for her, perhaps fulfilling her wish would prove that your intentions are neither fleeting nor shallow.”

Xie Fengshao’s gaze returned to the woman before him—Li Zhi.

“After the southern tour, I received a shell necklace from you. I knew it was a gift from your sister to you, which you then shared with me. At that moment, I thought to myself: as long as your feelings for me haven’t changed, what’s five years?”

“And so, I waited…”

At this moment, the once proud and confident Prince Feng looked like nothing more than a sorrowful, confused young man.

“I kept waiting for you… and waiting has worn me out.” Xie Fengshao tugged at the corners of his mouth, attempting a smile, but it only turned into a bitter expression. “It’s been five years, but I still feel like the person I’ve been waiting for hasn’t arrived. You stand before me, but I feel as if you’re far away. It’s like the person standing here isn’t truly you.

“I don’t understand. What are your true feelings for me?”

The weight of his sorrow pressed down on Li Zhi, making it hard for her to breathe.

She wanted to avoid it but couldn’t.

In every word Xie Fengshao spoke, she grasped at the faint remnants of her twin sister’s existence.

Even though these remnants struck her like arrows to the chest—piercing her heart, filling her eyes with tears—she couldn’t help but chase after them.

Her gratitude toward Prince Feng was boundless. Thanks to him, her sister’s short life had been far more colorful and meaningful than she had imagined.

But she owed him an answer.

An answer that belonged to Li Zhi, not her sister.

“When stringing every shell, I recited a prayer a thousand times over… only wishing that the person who wore it would live a life of joy and peace,” she said softly.

Xie Fengshao’s eyes widened. The flickering embers of hope reignited in his gaze.

“You’re right, time changes things,” she continued, her voice steady. “I am no longer the person I once was.”

“Prince Feng, you may hate me for it, but please don’t deny the past we shared. At least back then, every moment—every sunrise and sunset—was genuine,” Li Zhi said.

She couldn’t describe Xie Fengshao’s expression at that moment, nor did she know whether her pale words could soothe the emotions that tied him to her twin sister.

There might have been something she could say to make him happier, but she couldn’t say it.

She would never taint this precious memory.

Suppressing the pain in her heart, Li Zhi clenched her fists and turned to leave the path beneath the osmanthus tree.

Her mind lingered on that golden place, unaware that Xie Lanxu had been silently watching from a distance.

When she returned to the banquet, she pretended as if nothing had happened.

She had barely sat down when Chunmei came over, requesting her presence with Lu Yao.

Li Zhi joined Lu Yao, chatting and laughing, carefully avoiding any mention of what had transpired under the osmanthus tree.

A sudden commotion at the edge of the banquet drew her attention.

Li Zhi looked up to see Xie Lanxu narrowly avoiding a collision with a noble lady. With effortless grace, he extended a hand to steady the young woman, who flushed with embarrassment, hiding her face behind a fan.

To Li Zhi, Xie Lanxu’s smile seemed warm, but his eyes were colder than ever.

Lu Yao’s startled cry brought her back to the present.

“Chunmei, are you cold? Why are you trembling?” Lu Yao asked in surprise.

Chunmei’s eyes were wide with fear, her shoulders and lips quivering.

Following Chunmei’s frozen gaze, Li Zhi turned to see Xie Lanxu.

He had just bid farewell to the shy noble lady and was now walking toward the emperor, who had beckoned him over.

“It’s him…” Chunmei muttered, her voice trembling.

“What?” Li Zhi frowned.

“It’s him…”

Chunmei suddenly gripped Li Zhi’s arm tightly, her eyes filled with terror.

“It’s him! The eunuch who sent the secret message by flying book!”