Ah Jiao finally finished her laughter. She stood up, brushed her sleeve across Liu Che’s face to wipe away his tears, and walked out under his astonished gaze.
Liu Che covered his face with his sleeve and instructed his attendants, "It is late. Wait until the North Palace has been cleaned before she moves. Invite the Empress back for now." With that, he departed.
Life in the North Palace was not as peaceful as Ah Jiao had imagined. It would have been one thing if the halls and chambers were merely inferior to those of the Pepperwood Hall, but her former attendants had either been killed or demoted. Those now serving her were all newly bestowed by Wang Zhi.
Ah Jiao knew her mind drifted in and out of clarity. Amidst the servants' constant whispers of "madwoman," she wondered if she truly had lost her mind. They did not dare deprive her of food or clothing, but they were indolent and ignored her commands, their words turning sharp and biting whenever she made the slightest request.
Ah Jiao felt her bouts of confusion becoming more frequent. The North Palace was damp; by winter, even the bedding felt moist. Huddled in her quilts, she finally could not bear the cold and prepared to rise and light a charcoal brazier.
Outside, the servants gossiped incessantly. She heard that her mother had offered the Emperor the Changmen Park, located on the way to Baling, and that the Emperor had graciously accepted, leading to a reconciliation between aunt and nephew. In a rare moment of lucidity, she felt this was a good thing.
She could not remember what else she heard. The fire was never lit before she drifted into a stupor again. When she regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was her mother’s face. She stared blankly for a long time before throwing herself forward and weeping.
Faint cries and shouts drifted in from the courtyard. She realized she seemed to have moved. When she asked her mother, Guantao only kept a grim face and did not answer. When she asked again, her mother’s face turned pale as she said the previous quarters had caught fire.
A fire? Ah Jiao fell silent for a moment, then lowered her head and whispered, "Mother, I’m sorry. It seems I can’t do anything right anymore."
Looking at her emaciated daughter, Guantao burst into tears. She pulled Ah Jiao into her arms. "It is Mother’s fault. It was my stubbornness that harmed you. I should never have kept pushing you." When news of the fire at Ah Jiao’s quarters in the North Palace reached her, she had fainted on the spot.
In that fleeting moment, she suddenly understood: the Emperor’s favor was gone, and let it stay gone. Nothing was more important than her daughter staying alive.
Liu Che was a wolf cub; she could no longer restrain or control him. She truly regretted it—how could she have been so blinded by ambition back then?
She had ruined her precious Jiao-jiao for nothing.
Ah Jiao wiped away her mother’s tears and forced a smile before falling back into sleep.
Guantao brought a formal complaint to Liu Che against the servants who had been attending Ah Jiao. To allow a fire to break out in their mistress’s bedchamber was a crime deserving of death.
Wang Zhi let out a cold sneer. "The Grand Princess has already administered the floggings. Why come before the Emperor and me to say all this? Perhaps it was just Ah Jiao throwing another tantrum, trying to burn the house down to get the Emperor to visit her? Surely the Grand Princess has seen plenty of these life-and-death theatrics before!"
Guantao gnashed her teeth in hatred, but her face remained a mask of sorrow. She did not refute Wang Zhi’s words, only weeping as she said, "Your Majesty knows that your aunt has only this one daughter. If anything happens to her, your aunt will have no reason to live."
Leaning on Dong Yan’s hand, she bowed deeply. "Your aunt only begs Your Majesty, for the sake of our past bond, to let me choose someone from my own manor to serve her. Only then can I rest easy and stop worrying day and night."
Wang Zhi’s expression shifted.
Liu Che remained silent for a moment before finally granting the request.
When Ah Jiao woke up, she found a female scribe named Ren Qiao by her side, sent by her mother. With Ren Qiao’s arrival, the previous servants were replaced, and her life became comfortable again. However, she, who had always feared bitterness, began to drink medicine.
She asked Ren Qiao what the medicine was for. Ren Qiao smiled and said it was to nourish her body, claiming that the two years in the North Palace had taken a toll on her health and she needed to recover.
She didn't want to drink it, but seeing Ren Qiao’s terrified expression, she had no choice but to swallow it.
As the year turned, a major event occurred in the palace—the Emperor had his firstborn son.
Ah Jiao learned the news when Liu Che bestowed rewards upon the entire back palace. Holding the items granted to each hall, she thought that Ah Che must be overjoyed.
The unease that had lingered in her heart for so long finally settled and vanished. That sense of dread, whose origin she couldn't even name, dissipated like mist. Logically, she should have been jealous or unhappy, yet she felt an immense sense of relief.
It was as if a mountain weighing on her heart had suddenly vanished! She felt that her happiness was both pitiful and tragic.
Ren Qiao brought the medicine as usual. Ah Jiao stared at the bowl for a moment and decided she never wanted to drink it again. She said, "Ren Qiao, I have taken this medicine for nearly a year, and my health is much better. I don't want to drink it anymore."
Since Ah Che had a son, she no longer needed to take the medicine, and she never wanted to touch it again.
Ren Qiao lowered her head, not daring to agree.
So Ah Jiao asked again, "What kind of medicine is this?"
Ren Qiao buried her head even lower, saying only that it was the Grand Princess’s command.
Her mother’s command? Ah Jiao swept the bowl off the table, and her mind began to blur again. She braced herself against the table, her eyes fixed in a stare as she asked, "Am I mad?"
Ren Qiao’s eyes widened, but she dared not answer.
Ah Jiao felt she had finally found the thread that connected all her doubts. No wonder she always felt clear one moment and dazed the next. She covered her face and curled up in her quilts, weeping.
How had she let herself become like this?
*Chen Ah Jiao, how could you let yourself become like this!*
When her mother came to see her again, Ah Jiao smiled and promised to take her medicine and recover well. Looking at her mother’s haggard smile, she felt she had to get better. It would never do for a perfectly good daughter to go mad or turn into a fool just because she couldn't bear a son.
Liu Che installed a new Empress. She thought she would be devastated when she heard the news, but she wasn't as sad as she had imagined. Yet, in the dead of night when all was silent, she felt as if insects were gnawing at her heart, each one whispering of resentment and grievance.
But she didn't even have the strength to resent or be aggrieved. Fortunately, Guantao later brought news: Liu Che had permitted her to leave the Weiyang Palace to recuperate at the Changmen Palace.
On the day she left by carriage, it was autumn. The sky was high and the clouds were pale. She didn't know what kind of storm her move to Changmen Palace had stirred within the Weiyang and Changle Palaces; she only knew she was incredibly happy. Those high palace walls and the unfathomable hearts of men—she could finally leave them behind.
Perhaps she was a coward, but she wanted to leave that place with a desperate fervor—the place that had buried over a decade of her youth and beauty.
Ah Jiao found a rare spark of interest and led her attendants on tours around the Changmen Palace. She had them prepare many trinkets; after so many years, her zest for life had returned. Guantao was overjoyed and hurried to have everything prepared.
Living with her in the Changmen Palace was a physician found by Guantao. As more and more memories returned to her, she knew she was slowly getting better.
She needed nothing. She did whatever came to mind. Under her mother’s care and the Emperor’s bounties, the servants of Changmen Palace were exceptionally diligent.
However, as time passed, even her resentment and grievance faded. Changmen Palace seemed to become yet another cage. The thought flashed by, leaving her struck with fear.
Regrettably, such days lasted only a few years—the Grand Princess passed away. Ah Jiao did not receive the news immediately, and her two brothers seemed to have forgotten their sister. By the time she knew and petitioned the Emperor for permission to attend, it was too late; the Emperor did not grant her request.
She didn't even know if her petition had ever reached his ears.
Those two years made her feel as if she had returned to her first days in the North Palace.
She went from living her days to merely enduring them, day after day, until death.
She accepted her death quickly, so quickly she didn't even have time to reminisce about the past.
She never expected she would see Liu Che again. In that moment, she felt both fear and hatred, forced to feign ignorance while acting like a spoiled, foolish child.
Ah Jiao thought: what mortal could be certain of reincarnation? Especially when she was in the form of a three-year-old child. Yet Liu Che looked so certain that she wished she could simply die again on the spot.
But as they spent time together, she wanted to laugh. This Liu Che felt both familiar and strange. He made her past feel like a joke—something to be brought up when needed and forgotten even by herself when it wasn't.
Yet Heaven seemed to always be playing jokes on her. Just as Ah Jiao had adapted to this life, she suddenly died again.
To save Liu Che—she spat inwardly at herself for that—only to learn that she might be able to pursue cultivation.
This news shattered everything from her past. Excitement and madness overflowed from her heart. Ah Jiao thought: who wouldn't want to cultivate and become an immortal? She wasn't the only one.
She thought she would work hard, only to end up seeing Liu Che again.
Ah Jiao: "..."
From the perspective of a three-year-old, Ah Jiao thought Liu Che was old. From the perspective of a woman, Ah Jiao thought Liu Che was truly old—but she didn't say it.
Liu Che grew increasingly doting toward her, but she found it ridiculous. Her past self was ridiculous, and the current Liu Che was ridiculous.
But regardless, she felt she no longer possessed her past passion. Ah Jiao felt Liu Che was a miraculous person; clearly he was old, yet he seemed to have infinite passion and energy to mobilize, even finding the time to mock her.
She slightly liked this liveliness. Wrapped in the loneliness and grievances of the past, her long-stagnant spirit felt a flicker of pride and wildness.
Liu Che took amusement in her, and she took amusement in him. In the end, she couldn't tell how much of it was sincere—she felt that Liu Che was also lonely, so lonely that he needed something to hold onto.
That was enough.
