Chapter 3
When I first accepted Prince Ruilin to be my husband, my father was the first to express apprehension, worried that I was making the decision solely for the benefit of our clan. My siblings also had their reservations, questioning the vast differences between us and his apparent naivety. A-li advised me to seek a partner who could better comprehend the complexities of my nature, but they didn’t recognize. Our differences were precisely why I chose him. I was drawn to Ruilin because of his genuine and honest character.
His openness, like glass, pure, transparent, without hidden motives or intrigue, is obvious. He hides nothing, and his face and body language always clearly reveal what he’s feeling. Unlike my taciturn nature, I think he’s incapable of lying or keeping secrets. While we seem unlikely, and I don’t expect to love him as he does me. I am curious. I’m interested to see if his uncomplicated nature can unravel my intricacies and his light can counteract my darkness. Could his innocence turn back the clock for me, who was already too old when I was young?
As I use the soft handkerchief that’s bright yellow as a warbler to wipe my cheek, the delicate fabric releases a blend of fresh and spicy scents of cypress and cinnamon woods, commonly used woods in the Phoenix Realm’s furniture. Prince Ruilin subtly points out ink marks on my cheek without touching me, his gaze filled with adoration, which my dege refers to as ‘eyes gushing hearts’. It’s clear that his feelings for me run deep, and I contemplate whether I will or need to love at all, especially when Ruilin’s love seems sufficient for both of us.
“The Peach Festival is only one week away,” Ruilin mentions, shifting his feet and leaning against the wall. “That’s when you’ll be leaving for your trial.” As he lowers his head, the cleft in the center of his square chin becomes more pronounced, and his long hair falls over the front of his sea foam green robe. He may lack the prettiness of my brothers, yet his straightforward handsomeness makes him desirable to young goddesses.
Shyly, he adds, “You’re the only sweetness in my life. I’m going to miss you.” Such sentimentality makes me consider the depth of his affections when he barely knows me, and I wonder if he’ll feel the same when he discovers I’m not as sweet as he believes.
As I meticulously fold the handkerchief into a crisp square, the spicy scent of cinnamon wood lingers in the air and on my skin. I briefly consider returning it to him, but ultimately choose to keep it, sensing it would please him. His broad smile and eyes following as I tuck it away in my dress, confirming my assumption. “I’ll be back in three months, at most,” I announce, the sound of papers shuffling on the desk punctuating my words. “Then, our parents will choose an auspicious day for the wedding.”
“Those three months are going to feel like three decades.” He glides away from the wall, his steps echoing softly as he approaches, halting by the desk’s edge. His deep-set eyes that shimmer with flecks of gold. “My stepmother, Consort Lie Xi, has been preoccupied with the betrothal gifts,” he states. Before I can express how considerate Consort Lie Xi is, Ruilin candidly reveals that his father, the Phoenix Emperor, was absolutely captivated by my mother since seeing her at the Assembly. His infatuation runs so extreme that the Emperor asked Ruilin to reconsider our marriage so he could pursue my mother and how beneficial a Phoenix and White Fox Marriage would be for everyone.
This request reached the ears of the Emperor’s second wife, who has been awaiting to become his empress, which is why she is now urging us to marry with a newfound sense of importance and urgency.
My elbow drops onto the desk, my palm supporting my cheek as I scoff at the preposterous idea of us becoming step-siblings rather than spouses. My father would never allow a Phoenix and White Fox marriage. Such a connection would upset the current balance of things, and they would become the most authoritative clans.
“That’s the last thing you have to be concerned about. Trust me. Romance is the last thing on my mother’s mind, or at least a genuine one,” I reassure him. Closing my book, I continue, “My mother is pretending to be involved with Ghost Lord Li Peng to put Father’s wife at ease. Bai Lianhua was insecure and worried mother would make Father waver.”
I notice his ears turning pink, the blush rising on his cheeks as we talk. “Everyone is fully aware of how much the Skylord treasures the Empress. Why would High Goddess make the Skylord waver? Is that truly a problem?” he asks, his innocence shimmering through.
I give him a curious stare, observing his childlike expression, and I don’t bother to explain something he doesn’t understand while repeating the falsehood I’ve been telling everyone, including myself. “Bai Lianhua has nothing to worry about. She and mother have become friends. They hit it off from their first meeting.”
Referring to mother’s relationship with Bai Lianhua as friendship is far from the truth, and their initial encounter was anything but friendly.
After the assembly, I had been checking her pulse when Bai Lian Hua asked, “Did your father seem upset because I kept High Goddess from attending the assembly for longer than intended?” Then she confessed. “Being sick has made me selfish, craving company, and your mother was most willing. She even played beautiful melodies on the zither your father gifted me, which finally served its true purpose today. Your mother plays beautifully.”
I had ceased monitoring her pulse; in my father’s room, which he shared with Bai Lianhua, I noticed the zither was positioned below the bed.
Without raising my eyes to hide my emotions, I handed Bai Lianhua the revitalising tonic. However, I nearly dropped the bowl on the bed when she said, “Changying, I had a great time with High Goddess. We had a lovely stroll in the garden, and I told her all about my whirlwind courtship with your father, if you can even call it that. Feeling playful, I let slip to her that your father referred to her as cruel, dangerous, and complicated on our first evening together.”
My stomach had sunk knowing my mother most likely smiled politely hearing about my father’s affections for another woman. She must have remained composed even after learning that father considered her cruel, dangerous and complicated. She had walked in the flourishing garden that had once been filled with her beloved peach trees now replaced by all osmanthus trees favored by Bai Lianhua, a detail she surely had noticed. In the bedroom she once shared with father, mother played melodies on the zither—a gift from father to his new wife.
Bai Lianhua not only exacerbated my mother’s emotional wounds that she kept buried but also insulted her by placing the zither lower than the bed, with Bai Lianhua seated above a High Goddess. Was it a painful experience for her? Undoubtedly, though, she never revealed it. After being mistreated and offended, my mother was remarkably composed at the assembly.
Terminal illness has the power to change individuals, and Bai Lianhua was no exception. Despite her glowing skin, unchanged appetite, and peaceful sleep, she has been slowly deteriorating. Although she may seem healthy and still shares intimacies with father, the truth was that she has been fading like a dying star as her life force diminishes day by day. Having spent three hundred joyful years with father, Bai Lianhua now holds intense bitterness about having to leave his side after being promised immortality. She understands that her illness started before mother’s return, but in father’s absence, she often directed her frustration towards mother. As a result, my brothers won’t visit her as often as I do.
Yingpei has been upset with Bai Lianhua. During their last meeting, Bai Lianhua expressed her struggles and grievances, stating that her life was unjust, fate was not on her side, and she was enduring more misery than anyone else. Yingpei, who is calculating and analytical, had a hard time accepting this. He recognized Bai Lianhua being there for father in his time of need but contended that mother had more grounds to feel betrayed by fate. Yingpei highlighted Bai Lianhua’s three hundred years of a flawless life, prosperous marriage, father’s absolute devotion, and trouble-free pregnancies and deliveries.
“Our parents were together for less than twenty years, which were far from perfect. Our mother passed away three times. Bai Lianhua has been living a luxurious dream life as father’s only wife, and she will die once,” Yingpei protested during our gathering in Qingqui after consuming too much wine.
He was quick to bring up how mother spent only six years with father as SuSu, mostly separated. During that time, she was bullied and suffered during her pregnancy with dege. After her trial in Nine Heavens, she spent less than six months with father, who had another wife, Sujin. She became pregnant with father’s children again but faced torture, a miscarriage, and another difficult pregnancy. After being trapped on Kunlun for years, she reunited with father, who had a harem by then. Even during their trial, father impregnated mother while married to another woman, and he caused her more suffering.
“I’ve never seen Bai Lianhua cry, even though our mother could fill the four seas with her tears!” Yingpei said.
While Yingpei seemed to oversimplify the matter, there had been some truth to what he said, which was why none of us disputed him.
When father met Bai Lianhua and fell in love with her, I, along with everyone else, were relieved. He had grieved too long and at the rate he was going; we feared he would be joining mother in death. We accepted her with open arms and hearts, which we would have even if she weren’t Mother’s reincarnation. But her being the holder of mother’s soul made everything perfect and that much sweeter. I was ecstatic to have her back and never second-guessed her or doubted who Bai Lianhua said she was and believed to be, because I wanted her to be for my and father’s sake.
Yet there were those who didn’t think Bai Lianhua was mother’s reincarnation or at least not her completely.
Yingpei was the first to point out that she didn’t smell like mother, which we found amusing, as he had spent the least amount of time with her. Then A-li mentioned how submissive she was now, which surprised him since the woman we knew, even when pretending to be submissive, always held the upper hand. Zhe Yan and the Fox family never called her Xiao Wu, and Uncle Mo Yuan never referred to her as his disciple. I also noticed she was quite different, but assumed she would grow into herself with time. In the end, her identity didn’t matter as long as she made father happy, which she did.
“Changying, was it wrong of me to share those things with your mother?” Bai Lianhua had asked quietly, noticing my serious expression. I replied, “Mother, were you trying to be unkind on purpose?”
She had clasped her hands in her lap, her index fingernail nervously picking at the thumb and whispered, “Yes, I was. I wanted to hurt her because she was so strikingly beautiful, and no matter what I said, she just kept smiling. Even when I shared explicit details about your father and me, she didn’t flinch. Nothing. Not even when I suggested she should consider reconciling with your father as his second wife, that I would be permitted to serve him only after my death. She graciously thanked me and asked if she could visit me another day. Changying, please don’t tell your father what I did and said to her.”
I had promised not to tell father, and I didn’t, but I wished there was a way for me to quell Bai Lianhua’s jealousy, insecurity, and desire to harm mother, whom she sees as someone untouchable. The problematic part was I was aware that she must have hurt and offended mother deeply. While mother steadfastly instructed us to avoid taking sides, as we were all together, with no division. It’s been hard to remain neutral knowing father embraces Bai Lianhua nightly, doing everything in his power to make her smile while mother holds back her tears somewhere alone.
“Princess Changying, let me shoulder some of your burdens. You are not alone, and I will stand by your side always.” My thoughts are interrupted by Prince Ruilin’s voice, his fingertips lightly grazing the back of my hand. “I promise to honor and treat everyone fairly and equally,” he declares enthusiastically.
Treat everyone equally and fairly? What an interesting concept indeed.