Chapter 11

It was the same in her previous life. Only then, the question had been asked several days later. But Pei Yun understood that the Crown Prince was inherently someone of pure heart and few desires; his inquiry was not out of personal eagerness but simply because he felt the time had come to consummate their marriage.

He was always so precise and proper, treating even this matter like a routine duty. He would have the imperial physician calculate the days of greatest fertility within the month and select three days for their union, avoiding staying overnight in her chambers at other times. It was as if their conjugal relations existed solely for the purpose of continuing the family line; any other intimacy was considered unnecessary.

He was not passionate about it, and Pei Yun was no more willing—after all, the matter was a torment to her. She had intended to find an excuse to evade it, but then thought better and said, “My body has mostly recovered.”

Hearing this, Li Changye nodded gently. “Tomorrow morning, I will have Imperial Physician Zheng come to take your pulse.”

Pei Yun obediently responded, “Yes.”

After another cup of tea, Li Changye rose, citing urgent state affairs, and left Linlang Hall. On the way back to Chenghua Hall, Chang Lu, the Crown Prince’s attendant, mentioned the plan to summon Physician Zheng the next morning, to which his master responded with a low “hm.”

Having served the Crown Prince for many years, Chang Lu could somewhat read his thoughts. Though the Crown Prince had not spoken plainly, arranging the consummation now likely meant he thought delaying further would be unwise. In the imperial harem, most concubines were summoned shortly after confinement, but in the Eastern Palace, there was only the Crown Princess. If the Crown Prince delayed consummation too long, rumors unfavorable to her might arise.

Chang Lu glanced at his master walking ahead with usual composure and sighed inwardly. His lord was sometimes quite thoughtful, so why today had he failed to notice that the Crown Princess had neither prepared any dishes nor even asked how this mission had gone? It seemed as though she did not care at all.

He hoped she was not still sulking with His Highness. Thinking this, Chang Lu furrowed his brow more tightly, concluding it was his lord’s fault for not knowing how to soothe a woman. If only he had told her how tirelessly he had rushed back from Qin County for the hundred-day banquet, perhaps the Crown Princess would be moved and their marital affection would naturally improve.

While Chang Lu wore a troubled expression, at Linlang Hall, Shuyan gently massaged Pei Yun’s shoulders as she reclined in the bath, unable to suppress a smile. Perhaps she smiled too much, for Shumo beside her frowned and teased, “Enough with the laughter—you’re about to crack your mouth.”

“I can’t help it. I wish every day could be so satisfying,” Shuyan said, recalling how Li Shurui had been scolded earlier that day. “That arrogant and overbearing eldest princess finally got what she deserved. The Crown Prince seems truly angry this time—he hasn’t delivered the brocade intended for her, sending it all instead to Linlang Hall. There’s suddenly so much fabric here. What kind of clothes do you plan to make, my lady?”

Before Pei Yun could reply, Shuyan continued, “The sky-blue material must be made into an outer garment—best if the eldest princess sees it and fumes.”

Pei Yun closed her eyes, lazily leaning against the tub’s edge, her dark hair falling to partially obscure her shapely form beneath the water. She lifted the corner of her mouth but said nothing. Though Shuyan’s suggestion was satisfying, it felt childish. She was past that age, and besides, although she admitted the fabric was beautiful, she did not like that color.

“I recall the eldest princess had previously chosen a crimson brocade,” Pei Yun mused slowly.

Upon hearing this, Shumo quickly responded, “Yes, that color is quite lovely. Will you have it made into clothing, my lady?”

The servants nearby might not have known, but these two had grown up with Pei Yun and were well aware of her preferences. Before marriage, her wardrobe was filled with lively shades like lotus pink, coral red, and lilac. When she wore those colors, her skin appeared as white as snow and her cheeks like blushing peaches. Back in Cangzhou, whenever she went riding or enjoying the outdoors, many young gentlemen had been caught blushing and glancing back at her.

However, after entering the Eastern Palace, she seemed to think those colors too flashy and had switched to blues and greens, which were more modest and dignified.

Pei Yun pondered for a while, then said slowly, “I shall have a set of nightwear made.”

After all, outsiders were accustomed to seeing her in blue and green, and a sudden change would draw unwanted attention. She preferred to wear her favorite bright colors only in private for her own pleasure.

The next morning, after breakfast, Imperial Physician Zheng arrived. He took Pei Yun’s pulse and inquired about her menstrual cycle and other matters, promising to arrange everything promptly.

Pei Yun was not versed in medicine and had always been irregular, so she did not know exactly how Physician Zheng scheduled the days. She casually asked, “Roughly which days will it be?”

“Your Highness, it should be around the time of New Year’s Eve,” the physician replied after a pause. “But the exact timing must be reported to His Highness the Crown Prince for his decision.”

Pei Yun nodded. This was how it had always been: the date depended on when the Crown Prince was free, and someone would notify her in due course.

She vaguely remembered that in her previous life, their first time together after childbirth was after the New Year. Yet only a few days remained before the festival.

The hundred-day banquet for Chen’er had not yet passed, and the Ministry of Rites was already preparing for the New Year’s Eve ceremonies and banquet.

On New Year’s Eve itself, during the day, the emperor would lead the Crown Prince, the princes, and civil and military officials to the ancestral temple to pay respects. At night, a family feast would be held in Chengqian Palace—an annual tradition.

On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, before night had fallen, Shuyan and Shumo helped Pei Yun dress and prepare, while Li Chen changed into a festive red garment. His wet nurse brought him over from the side chamber.

As dusk deepened, Li Jin arrived.

Outside, it was cold, so Pei Yun wrapped Chen’er in a thick garment. The three of them took two palanquins to Chengqian Palace.

Near the palace, they disembarked. Pei Yun held her child and saw many people heading toward the palace gates, all bowing to her as they passed.

It was Chen’er’s first time out of the Eastern Palace. His dark eyes roved curiously, taking in the new sights. He was restless in Pei Yun’s arms, so she tightened her cloak and quickened her steps toward the hall, fearing he might catch cold.

But as soon as she entered, a small figure suddenly darted out from behind a pillar and charged toward her.

Caught off guard, Pei Yun could only brace herself as the child collided with her. She staggered back, instinctively clutching her son tightly, afraid she might drop him.

Shumo and Shuyan hurried to steady her, both shaken but relieved it was only a child.

“Little Princess,” a maid came running anxiously from behind and knelt before Pei Yun. “The Crown Princess, please forgive me. The little princess ran off to find the Second Prince so quickly that I couldn’t catch up and she collided with you.”

The “Little Princess” was none other than Li Rong, daughter of Prince Yu—Sister Rong.

The four-year-old girl looked timidly at Pei Yun, aware she had caused trouble. She knew Pei Yun, the Crown Princess, who was beautiful but always seemed cold and unapproachable. Her brother had told her that Pei Yun was stern even with Li Jin.

Frightened, the little girl nervously twisted her small hands, bracing herself for a scolding.

But then a gentle, soft voice spoke.

“Very well. Keep a close watch on your master.”

Following this, the little princess felt a hand softly stroke her head. “Do not run about recklessly; you might fall.”

Staring in surprise at the kindly smile before her, the little girl finally said, “Thank you, Crown Princess.”

Hearing the soft, gentle voice and looking at the delicate, porcelain-like face, Pei Yun’s heart melted completely. There was no hint of blame. She turned to Li Jin. “Jin’er, take your sister to find your second brother.”

“Yes, mother,” Li Jin replied, taking Li Rong’s hand and heading inside.

Pei Yun watched the small figure of Li Rong in her bright peach-red jacket, her hair adorned with two sky-blue silk flowers whose ribbons swayed with each step—so endearing and adorable.

Yet as she watched, Pei Yun’s smile suddenly faded.

In her past life, she too should have had a daughter…