"Yes."
She cast one last deep look in the direction of the pavilion, then turned without hesitation, disappearing quietly into the depths of the bamboo grove together with the maid, their footsteps so light they were almost swallowed by the sound of wind stirring the bamboo leaves.
I leaned by the window, unmoving for a long while. In my hand I still clutched the thin blanket that had slipped off when I slept, my fingertips icy cold.
What had just happened was like a brief yet vivid dream. I had seen another Xiao Yuhuang—not the weak one bullied at banquets, nor the indifferent imperial princess in the autumn rain, but someone who, when no one was watching, would reveal concern, would struggle, would be burdened with hesitation, and would even appear somewhat lonely and at a loss… a young girl.
She was afraid of implicating me.
That realization quietly dissolved a portion of the distance in my heart that had formed because of her coldness that autumn.
"Yuzhi? You're awake?" Father's voice came from the outer room, tinged with concern.
I hurriedly gathered my thoughts and answered, "Mm, I'm awake."
Father lifted the curtain and came in. Seeing me sitting by the window, he said at once, "There's wind by the window—be careful not to catch a chill," and moved to close it.
"Father," I suddenly spoke, my voice a little dry, "just now… it seemed there was some movement in the bamboo grove. Probably squirrels or the like."
Father glanced at the quiet bamboo forest outside and did not think much of it. "Behind the temple mountain, it's normal to have small creatures. Have you rested enough? The abbot will arrive shortly."
I nodded, letting Father close the window halfway.
But in my heart, that cool voice still echoed—"I cannot implicate him."
During the abbot's sermon and the prayer ritual, I was somewhat absent-minded. My gaze kept drifting, involuntarily, toward the verdant bamboo grove outside the pavilion, as though I might still see that solitary, upright figure in stone-blue robes.
On the carriage ride back, I was unusually silent.
Father thought I was tired. He carefully adjusted the cushions for me and took out some warmed ginseng tea for me to drink.
I sipped it in small mouthfuls, my gaze resting on the rapidly retreating street scenery outside the carriage window.
A few days later, while I was organizing a batch of books newly sent by Second Sister Su Fei in the study, I once again discovered that pale-blue cloth pouch, tucked into the pages of an ancient volume.
This time, in addition to the dried leaves and honeyed medicinal pills, there was also a small roll of extremely thin paper. Unfolding it, I found several lines copied out—dietary therapy recipes for regulating cough and wheezing. The handwriting was still hers, neat and austere. Beside the recipe, there was also a line of very small notes: "If one fears the bitterness of medicine, this may be used alongside it. Its nature is mild; though the effects are slower, it is beneficial to the foundation."
I looked at that line of small characters, my fingertips brushing the cool surface of the paper, as though I could feel the seriousness and careful consideration of the person who had written it.
She did not appear. She spoke no words. Yet in this way, she quietly conveyed the care she could give—care that did not overstep any bounds.
I carefully put the paper roll away, hiding it together with the cloth pouch.
Days continued to pass amid decoctions of medicine, etiquette lessons, and my family's attentive care. On the surface, I was still that compliant, quiet Su Yuzhi.
But some things had already changed, quietly.
I began to pay closer attention to developments at court, piecing together the shifting situation outside through the occasional conversations of my second and eldest sisters. The open and covert struggle between the Eldest Imperial Princess and the Eighth Imperial Princess grew ever fiercer, with court officials' allegiances becoming increasingly clear. Xiao Yuhuang's name was still rarely mentioned, but when it was, it was always accompanied by evaluations such as "not knowing the times" or "offending people." She seemed to cling stubbornly to some principle of her own, doing tangible work with difficulty in the cracks between factions, and because of that, she was ignored or even rejected by all sides.
I also began, deliberately and very discreetly, to collect various miscellaneous books related to medicine, especially focusing on ancient prescriptions for regulating weak and cold constitutions. I thought that if… if there were a chance in the future, perhaps I could understand the formulas she sent. Perhaps… I could do a tiny bit of something—for myself, and for this hidden concern.
The thought was small, yet like a seed buried deep in my heart, quietly drawing nourishment in some unnoticed corner.
On the day of the summer solstice, the palace held a summer banquet to dispel the heat. The Su residence once again declined on the grounds of my health. But the day after the banquet, when Second Sister Su Fei came to see me, she brought news.
"At yesterday's banquet, the Third Imperial Princess presented a map she herself had drawn, titled Detailed and Abridged Survey of the Northern Frontier. It's said to offer quite a few new insights on border garrison farming and the placement of relay routes—even several veteran generals from the Ministry of War nodded to themselves after seeing it," Su Fei said in a lowered voice. "But the Eldest Imperial Princess laughed on the spot and said, 'Third Sister has put thought into it, but after all it's just armchair strategy—not comparable to real blades and real training.' The Eighth Imperial Princess directly said, 'As for matters of the northern frontier, I know them better than Third Sister.' His Majesty only glanced at the map once, said nothing, and had it put away."
I could imagine the scene. Something she had worked hard on, lightly dismissed by her sisters, ignored by the sovereign. What was she feeling at that moment? Still that calm and unruffled, burying all emotion deep beneath her eyes?
"And then?" I asked.
"And then?" Su Fei shook her head. "What else could happen? The Third Imperial Princess said nothing at all and silently returned to her seat. It was Dejun who later complained in the palace, saying the Third Imperial Princess 'only knows how to steal the spotlight and make her sisters unhappy.'"
I fell silent for a long while.