The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 11

“And one more thing: the palace is full of rules. No matter how well the Emperor and Empress treat you, you must never lose your sense of propriety.” Madam Song paced the room, mentally checking off every piece of advice she could think of, terrified she might miss something.

“I will keep it in mind, Mother,” Song Qingqian replied with a nod.

Madam Song took her daughter’s hands, her eyes clouding over with a mist of tears. Her voice grew raspy. “Qianqian, I truly did not wish for you to enter the palace. Anywhere else in this world, your father and I could protect you. But that deep palace courtyard.”

Song Qingqian squeezed her hands back. “Mother, I am capable of looking after myself. Please, set your mind at ease.”

“But I’ve inquired about Her Highness since your engagement,” Madam Song whispered, her worry unabated. “I hear she is willful and reckless, even the Emperor can do nothing with her.”

Song Qingqian handed her a handkerchief and poured a fresh cup of tea. She smiled gently. “Mother, I am a teacher. My specialty is educating the willful. You truly needn’t worry.”

Madam Song nodded, finding a small measure of comfort. “Qianqian, the palace is not as free as the Prime Minister’s estate. Once you are there, seeing you will not be as easy as it is today.”

“That isn’t true, Mother. If you miss me, you need only come to the palace. And I can return to visit whenever I wish,” Qingqian consoled her.

Knowing her daughter was merely saying what she needed to hear, Madam Song chided her gently, “How could it be so simple? The palace is bound by protocol; there are restrictions at every turn.”

Song Qingqian thought for a moment. “If Mother finds the palace too restrictive, then I shall simply return home more often.”

Madam Song looked at her and gave a bittersweet smile. The two spoke deep into the night, the mother repeating her advice in cycles, and the daughter listening with tireless patience.

In Zichen Palace, Xiao Beitang had been unable to leave for several days. Emperor Jing had placed her under house arrest, and the Empress remained by her side constantly to ensure she didn’t slip away before the wedding.

When Xiao Beitang grumbled in frustration, the Empress, no longer as indulgent as before simply ignored her. Left with no choice, the Princess finally settled down.

The entire palace was draped in red silk and lanterns. A festive atmosphere saturated the air, nowhere more so than Zichen Palace. Everything had been refurbished and decorated to a high shine, though the vibrant reds felt like an eyesore to Xiao Beitang.

Servants bustled in and out, organizing the chaos. Chests of treasures were delivered to the Eastern Palace until the courtyards were overflowing. Liu Zi spent every waking moment counting inventory and directing the staff. Fuhua

Pavilion, Xiao Beitang’s sleeping quarters, had been completely redecorated according to the Empress’s personal tastes.

The next morning, while the sky was still dark, Song Qingqian rose to attend to her parents. It was her usual routine, but today, it was her final act as a daughter of the Song household.

Attendants arrived from the palace to dress her. Madam Song remained in the room, watching the process without blinking.

Song Qingqian was arrayed in a primary-red wedding robe embroidered with golden phoenixes. With her ceremonial crown and cape, the grandeur of her attire rivaled that of an Empress’s coronation. The sheer nobility of her presence was a far cry from the simple scholar’s robes she usually wore.

Once the preparations were finished, Qingqian dismissed the servants and offered her mother a radiant smile.

“My Qianqian has truly grown up,” Madam Song said, her voice trembling as tears finally fell.

“Mother, please don’t cry.” Qingqian moved to comfort her, but the sheer weight of the wedding garments and the jeweled crown pinned her in place.

“Don’t move. Sit still,” Madam Song said, stopping her. She sat beside her daughter, holding her hand and gazing at her with a look of profound longing. She wiped her tears and forced a laugh. “I’m just happy. The wishes of every mother in the world are the same: I don’t ask for you to be a dragon or a phoenix; I only hope for your safety and a life of joy.”

“I know, Mother.” Song Qingqian, usually stoic, found herself moved. A thin mist of tears blurred her vision.

Seeing her daughter’s composure break, Madam Song smiled. “Qianqian, don’t cry. It would be a shame to ruin your makeup.”

Qingqian suppressed the ache in her heart, took a breath, and flashed a brilliant smile that cleared the mist from her eyes.

“That’s it. A bride should leave her home with a happy heart.”

“The auspicious hour has arrived,” the Palace Matron announced from outside. “May the Crown Princess Consort bid farewell to her parents.”

Song Lian and the entire household were gathered in the front courtyard. Song Qingqian walked slowly to the center and performed a deep bow of farewell.

“May the Consort enter the palanquin!” the attendants cried.

Holding a gold-threaded dragon-and-phoenix fan to her face, Song Qingqian was assisted into the gold-topped, red-curtained wedding sedan by her maids, Xiao Tao and Bai Xue.

The entirety of Chang’an Street, from the Prime Minister’s estate to the palace gates, was carpeted in red silk. Every shop and household along the route hung red lanterns embossed with golden “Double Joy” characters. Emperor Jing had ensured the Song family received the utmost prestige.

Though Song Lian was famously incorruptible, Madam Song’s business acumen had provided a substantial family fortune. Song Qingqian’s dowry was staggering, a long train of crimson chests followed her palanquin. The streets were packed with spectators, held back by a wall of Imperial Guards.

In Zichen Palace, Xiao Beitang was shaken awake before dawn by the Empress.

“Tang’er, it’s time to get up.”

Xiao Beitang rolled over irritably, kicking at her blankets.

“Up with you!” The Empress pulled her out of bed. Still in a daze, Xiao Beitang stood swaying, her eyes barely open.

“Hurry and serve the Princess in her washing and dressing,” the Empress commanded.

Xiao Beitang yawned, stretching as a maid held a basin of water to her hands. She lazily wiped her face and rinsed her mouth. The attendants moved with clockwork precision, removing her sleeping robes and layering on her ceremonial attire.

Today’s robes were significantly heavier. When they placed the imperial crown on her head, the nine strings of jade beads (mianliu) swayed before her eyes. The weight was immense, making her head ache.

Still half-asleep, she was led to the Ancestral Temple. Seeing the plaque of the hall, she finally shed her lethargic state and straightened up. Emperor Jing stood there, resplendent in her ceremonial dragon robes (gunfu).

“Daughter greets Imperial Mother.” In the solemn presence of the ancestral tablets, Xiao Beitang dared not be flippant.

“Tang’er, come forward,” the Emperor said, her voice heavy with gravity.

Xiao Beitang stood behind the Emperor as they were handed incense. “May the ancestors above protect Great Yu for a thousand generations.”

They knelt and performed three deep bows. After honoring the ancestors and the heavens, the rituals stretched into the late afternoon. By the time Song Qingqian’s palanquin reached the palace gates, Xiao Beitang was led to the steps of the Hall of Supreme Harmony to receive her bride.

She stood beneath the imperial steps, flanked by rows of officials. The atmosphere was one of silent majesty. Everyone watched with expectant smiles.

Soon, Song Qingqian was helped from her palanquin. She moved with measured, graceful steps, holding her fan to her face. She stopped before Xiao Beitang and performed a slight curtsy.

Because of the fan, Xiao Beitang could not see her face. She saw only her slender, jade-like hands and her elegant silhouette. The wedding dress is nice, at least, she thought.

Xiao Beitang tilted her head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s features. Before she could, the Master of Ceremonies coughed behind her, prompting her to maintain her decorum. She straightened up immediately.

“The couple may enter the Hall!” the official cried.

Xiao Beitang took a long, steadying breath and extended her hand, palm upward. Song Qingqian, holding the fan with one hand, placed her other hand in the Princess’s palm.

Hand in hand, they entered the hall to perform their kowtows. The Emperor and Empress sat together at the head of the hall, the Empress beaming with joy, and even the Emperor wearing a rare, genuine smile.

“Your children pay respects to Imperial Mother and Mother Empress,” they said in unison as they knelt.

The Master of Ceremonies read the congratulatory address, a piece personally penned by Song Lian. The ritual music echoed his voice through the hall. Standing to the side, Song Lian watched the “perfect pair.” A glint of a tear appeared in his eye, but he suppressed it instantly, watching them with a proud smile.

Xiao Beitang did not look at Song Qingqian again. They both stared straight ahead, waiting for the ceremony to conclude.