Chapter Thirteen: Suddenly Blessed with Favor

Yue Wu followed her gaze to the blooming orange jasmine beside the pavilion.

After a long silence, she spoke in a low voice, “Yue Wu, how old are you now?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you... know what love is?”

“Well, I can't really say.” Yue Wu raised an eyebrow, her tone light and unconcerned.

All she longed for was a peaceful life. Romantic love was something she didn't deserve, not someone like her. Even her current existence felt as fragile as the moon reflected in the water—so easily shattered, so quickly vanished without a trace.

“I don't understand. If there is love, then why does hatred exist? Is it possible to hate someone at the same time as loving them?” she asked.

Yue Wu's eyes grew pensive. “Perhaps for many reasons, one can no longer continue to love, yet can't bear to let go. So hatred is all that's left.”

“The more you say, the more confused I become.”

“You're still young, miss. When you grow older, you'll understand.”

“Nanny said that when a girl reaches fifteen and comes of age, she can be married.”

“I don't want to get married. I like things as they are now—me, Yue Wu, Nanny, and Yun Xi, the four of us living together.”

Yue Wu lowered her head, hiding the loneliness between her brows. In this world, life is full of helplessness and things beyond one's control. People rarely get to choose how they live; more often, they're forced to accept the lives set before them.

Ming Chu rested her head on Yue Wu's shoulder and bit her lip. “Will you ever fall in love with someone else, Yue Wu?”

“No, Yue Wu will only ever care for you, miss.”

Ming Chu nodded, pondering for a while before saying, “Only caring isn’t enough. I want to be your favorite. Yue Wu has to like me best.”

“All right, Yue Wu likes you best.” Yue Wu lowered her eyes and saw the corners of Ming Chu's lips curve into a smile. She pressed her own lips together and let out a quiet chuckle.

In the Ru Hua Pavilion, Yun Xi sat in the courtyard, her eyes constantly darting to the gate. She muttered, “Why aren’t they back yet? This is nerve-wracking.” Just as she finished speaking, Nanny appeared in sight and Yun Xi hurried over.

“What took so long? The food’s gone cold.”

“Oh, Yun Xi, all you ever worry about is eating. I don't see you showing any concern for the young lady.” Nanny tapped her on the head.

“No, those are two different things! I was just about to ask. So, what did you talk about? Is the young lady’s mother really Dan Ruo? And where are the young lady and Yue Wu? Why aren't they back?”

“We were coming back together, but when we passed through the garden, someone came with a message—the Prince wishes to see the young lady. Yue Wu went with her.”

“It seems Ru Hua Pavilion is in for a change, though whether for better or worse, who can say?”

Prince Jiang’s gaze was fervent, his hands alternately clenching and releasing, several times unable to suppress the urge to stand. Ming Chu sat to his right, her gaze absentmindedly fixed on the corner of the wall, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe.

Prince Jiang stood up and moved to stand before Ming Chu. “Chu’er, look at your father.”

Pulled from her wandering thoughts, Ming Chu met his eyes. He took her hand. “Chu’er, all these years I’ve neglected you, allowed you to suffer. That was my failing. I owe you an apology. Please forgive me. Every time I see you, I can’t help but think of your mother, and remember everything from back then. That’s why I avoided you.”

Ming Chu leaned back, feeling a little uneasy. This sudden warmth from her father left her anxious.

“Trust me, Chu’er, I will make it up to you. I’ll more than make it up to you,” Prince Jiang promised, his grip tightening as memories stirred more vividly.

The pressure made Ming Chu wince, and she quickly withdrew her hand. Taking a deep breath, she looked directly at him. “All these years, I’ve had Nanny, Yue Wu, and Yun Xi by my side. I am content.” Whether or not her father loved her was of little consequence to her.

Prince Jiang’s hand hung awkwardly in the air, his voice heavy with regret. “I wronged your mother. But rest assured, Chu’er, never again will I let you suffer. When I named you Chu, it was because I could never forget the day I first met your mother.”

His voice dropped. “I regret it so much.”

Ming Chu raised her eyes and saw his reddened gaze. She frowned—her father, the undefeated hero of the battlefield, reduced to this…

Her heart softened, and she forced a smile. “Father, what’s gone is gone. We should focus on living well, shouldn’t we?”

Prince Jiang nodded emphatically.

The previous emperor had been cruel and tyrannical, allowing scoundrels to wreak havoc, and the frontiers had been plunged into turmoil.

The new emperor was benevolent, seeking peace rather than war, repeatedly offering amnesty. Wu Xuan, unwilling to see the people of Yue suffer, entered the palace to pledge loyalty in person. The emperor was delighted, showered him with gold and silver, and granted him the title Prince of Chao Xu.

After staying for some time, Wu Xuan was to depart. He stood by his horse at the gates of the Jiang estate, the whole household having come to see him off. Ming Chu watched him, reluctant to say goodbye. Wu Xuan pulled her close and called out, “Truly not coming back with me?”

Before Ming Chu could answer, Prince Jiang cut in, “She’s still too young. I wouldn’t feel at ease letting her travel far.”

“You don’t trust me?” Wu Xuan glared at him and then turned to Ming Chu. “The grasslands are your home too. If you ever feel uncomfortable here, you’re always welcome to return. Now that our people are flourishing, you, Ming Chu, are a princess of the steppe.”

He scooped Ming Chu up into a hug. “Promise me you’ll be happy!”

“I will! You take care too!” Ming Chu hugged him tightly.

Wu Xuan nodded in satisfaction, set her down, and, saying no more, mounted his horse and rode away.

Prince Jiang specially invited Shang Yu, the most renowned zither player in the capital, to teach Ming Chu the guqin, along with instructors for dance and painting.

Ming Chu had grown up undisciplined and free, so she relished her liberty. Now, as the true Fifth Miss of the Jiang family, she was cherished and expected to behave as a noble lady.

Shang Yu, just past thirty, was graceful and gentle. At that moment, she watched Ming Chu with some exasperation.

“Fifth Miss, when playing the zither, your right hand plucks the strings while your left presses for the notes. Why can’t you move both hands together?”

Ming Chu gave a sheepish grin. “I don’t know, my hands just keep cramping up.”

“Cramping? Play a little for me so I can see.” Shang Yu sighed. She had been teaching here for nearly half a year, and this Fifth Miss hadn’t learned a single piece.

With a mischievous smile, Ming Chu gathered her strength and made her hands tremble on purpose. Pulling a woeful face, she lamented, “See, I wasn’t lying. I really don’t think I’m cut out for the zither.” She heaved a sigh.

“Perhaps you should tell my father and spare me from these lessons. After all this time, I still can’t play a song—it’s really discouraging.” She hung her head, pretending to wipe away tears.

Shang Yu’s heart softened—she never could bear to see young girls cry. “Don’t be upset, Fifth Miss. Maybe you’ve been practicing too much lately and your hands are just tired. We can take a few days’ break.”

“That sounds good.” Ming Chu covered her face with her sleeve, hiding her growing smile. The bamboo flute was the only instrument she could play, and she had no desire to learn another.

Ming Wan entered with a smile. “I knew I’d find you here.”

At fifteen, Ming Wan was already a graceful beauty with delicate features and fair skin. Her mother, the Second Madam, was already renowned for her beauty, but Ming Wan surpassed even her.

“Fourth Sister, what brings you here!” Ming Chu greeted her joyfully.

“I came to see you, of course.” Ming Wan affectionately slipped her arm around Ming Chu’s shoulders. “Actually, my mother made mung bean rolls and asked me to invite you over to try them.”

“Yes, please! I remember tasting Second Madam’s mung bean rolls when I was little and never forgot them.”

“When you were little? Haven’t you had them since?” Shang Yu asked.

Ming Chu giggled, perfectly aware of the truth, but she never liked to refuse anyone’s kindness.