Chapter 45: The Arrogant and Overbearing Princess Anya

Just as Xia Jiujiang had predicted, Xia Mingxuan made no move along the way, tending to everything meticulously, as if his sole purpose was to pray for the old lady with utmost devotion. By the time they arrived at Dali Temple, it was already late afternoon.

Dali Temple, the state temple, flourished with incense and prayer, built upon the winding Hong Mountain. From afar, the mountain revealed faint silhouettes, as if it was a hidden sanctuary whose reputation resounded beyond its walls.

With red roofs and white walls, Dali Temple possessed an ancient elegance. Buddhist murals adorned the beams and walls, while intricately carved lattice windows lent the place a solemn grandeur. The temple was divided into inner and outer courtyards: the outer courtyard welcomed common pilgrims, but the inner courtyard was reserved for nobility and aristocrats, with special accommodations for the eminent families of the court. In the inner courtyard stood a thousand-year-old gingko tree, its bright yellow leaves dazzling beneath the sun.

The lodging within the inner courtyard was split into east and west wings—the east wing for women to rest, the west for men. Upon arrival at the east wing, Xia Jiujiang noticed a separate courtyard guarded tightly by palace guards, their vigilance severe.

Glancing at Lüluo, Xia Jiujiang said, “Go find out what’s happening in that separate courtyard of the east wing.” Why such strict defenses?

Though Lüluo lacked the martial skills of Youhua or the agility of Baizhi, she was clever and adept at gathering information, her status as a maid allowing her to move unnoticed—a truly delightful child.

Soon, Lüluo returned with news. “No wonder the inner courtyard of Dali Temple is so heavily guarded—it turns out Princess Anya is praying inside.”

Princess Anya was the niece of Emperor Zongkang, daughter of Princess Anyang, Zongkang’s half-sister. Though they did not grow up together, Princess Anyang cared deeply for Zongkang and even sacrificed her life to protect him during times of peril.

The depth of their bond was uncertain, for Princess Anyang held little status in the kingdom, leading to Anya’s own mistreatment. Using her sacrifice to secure her daughter’s future livelihood was, in truth, a wise choice.

Regardless of Princess Anyang’s motives, she left Anya behind when she passed. Emperor Zongkang, burdened by guilt, doted on Anya; the young princess, emboldened by her uncle’s affection, became arrogant and spoiled. Most importantly, Princess Anya favored Jun Buwen, and when the emperor decreed Xia Jiujiang to be the Princess Consort to Prince Jin, she threw a tantrum in the Yulong Palace and was punished by being sent to Dali Temple for two months of reflection.

Unexpectedly, as Anya’s two-month sentence neared its end, her stay at Dali Temple coincided with Xia Jiujiang’s arrival.

At that moment, Youhua entered bearing a note delivered by the covert guards’ carrier pigeon. Xia Jiujiang opened the slip: Midnight.

Xia Jiujiang pondered Princess Anya’s feelings for Jun Buwen. Though she cared little for Hei San, knowing that should she act, Hei San’s group would not survive, such action would not truly harm Xia Mingxuan behind the scenes. But if Princess Anya took action, it would be different.

Leaning close to Lüluo, Xia Jiujiang whispered, “Go near the separate courtyard and spread some news. Tell them…”

Lüluo was shocked by Xia Jiujiang’s words, “Do you really want to say that?”

Xia Jiujiang nodded, her expression calculating, a sly smile upon her lips.

Xia Jiujiang remained in the Xia-named room of the east wing, while Xia Yue’er’s maid tidied the Qiu-named room. Xia Yue’er entered Xia Jiujiang’s chamber, saying, “Sister, my room is right next to yours. If anything happens tonight, we can look out for each other. You should rest early—tomorrow at dawn we must rise to pray for Grandmother.”

“I understand,” Xia Jiujiang replied calmly.

The rooms in the east wing bore names of the seasons and flowers—Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Plum, Orchid, Bamboo, Chrysanthemum—for the masters, while servants and maids stayed in unmarked quarters.

Dinner was brought by young monks: vegetarian fare, grains and dishes, chrysanthemum cakes, all delicate and pleasing. The tofu soup was served in bowls shaped like little persimmons, novel and charming.

After eating, Xia Jiujiang lounged idly, flipping through books. The aroma of tea drifted from the cup on her desk, her demeanor serene and composed. Lüluo, however, was restless—according to the covert guards, something would happen at midnight, yet Xia Jiujiang had taken no action beyond instructing Lüluo to spread rumors.

Less than an hour after dinner, a commotion sounded outside. Before Xia Jiujiang could look up, a voice—irritable and displeased—rang out at the door, “So there are rooms like this beside the princess’s courtyard? How could anyone live here? It’s fit for pigs!”

Lüluo’s face darkened with displeasure at the insult—calling this a place for pigs was clearly referring to her mistress as well. How could someone be so rude?

But when she looked up and saw who entered, her expression changed to shock. The woman who strode in was fiery and arrogant, marching straight into the Xia-named room.

She wore a pearl crown, a long gown of moon-white, with a bright pink gauze overlay—vivid and striking, clearly made of expensive silk. Yet the luxurious attire was mismatched, lacking any sense of style. Even Lüluo, unversed in fashion, could tell that this was Princess Anya, the one so fiercely guarded in the separate courtyard.

Xia Jiujiang put down her book and asked, “Princess Anya, what brings you here so late?”

Princess Anya was surprised, “You know who I am?”

With poise, Xia Jiujiang replied, “With such lavish garments and jewelry, few could carry them. Even if I’d never met you, your noble status is obvious.”

Her words of praise pleased Princess Anya, but at the mention of ‘Princess Consort,’ her mood soured.

Lüluo was as astonished as if she’d seen a ghost. Few could carry such attire? Indeed, the pink was so garish it hurt her eyes—the luxurious fabric looked cheap, the ensemble something most women would avoid.

Princess Anya sized up Xia Jiujiang, “Your pale blue top embroidered with a hundred butterflies, paired with a pearl-white crepe skirt, is quite lovely.”

A gentle smile graced Xia Jiujiang’s face. “You flatter me, Princess. This outfit was chosen by Prince Jin himself. Knowing I would come to Dali Temple, he selected something modest yet befitting the style of his household—even my hair ornaments were matched by him.”

Princess Anya’s expression turned cold. “I rather like your outfit. Take it off and give it to me.”