Chapter One
Yu Ying had no idea how their idle conversation had turned to that man, or who had brought him up first.
But the topic surfaced, and Jiang Pei, ever fond of stirring up gossip and watching the ensuing drama, feigned sudden realization after half an hour, exaggeratedly covered her mouth, and turned to Yu Ying: “Ying Ying, we’ve carelessly mentioned Lord Cheng. You don’t mind, do you?”
In the past, Yu Ying would have retorted sharply, but five years had tempered her. She sipped her lychee water, smiled serenely, and replied, “Oh? Are you talking about Cheng Xianzhang? I was wondering which Lord Cheng you meant—whether I know him at all.”
Jiang Pei immediately asked, “Even if you haven’t seen him in five years, you were married once! How could you forget?”
“It’s not that I forgot. It’s just that the Lord Cheng you speak of sounds so exceptional, I wouldn’t have thought of him,” Yu Ying said.
Jiang Pei responded with interest, “How is he not exceptional? So young, yet already promoted to Deputy Censor-in-Chief—such a favorite of the Emperor! My own husband says he’s sure to be Chancellor by his thirties. And he’s handsome, too.”
Someone nearby chimed in, “Exactly! You were brave to let him go, Ying Ying.”
Yu Ying fanned herself lightly, smiling as though unbothered.
Jiang Pei glanced around, teasing, “There’s something else I bet you don’t know.”
Everyone, eager for gossip about this rising star at court, pressed her, “What is it?”
Jiang Pei looked at Yu Ying again. Yu Ying lounged lazily, sipping her lychee water, feigning indifference.
She couldn’t truly be indifferent—back in Luoyang, news of him was constant: another promotion, yet another, a new residence, honors bestowed upon his virtuous mother. Each time she heard, it irritated her, and she’d curse him silently, blaming fate for letting such a scoundrel prosper.
This time it was worse. She’d just returned to Chang’an, only to learn he’d been made Deputy Censor-in-Chief, a fourth-rank official, head of the entire Censorate!
It was infuriating—far too much luck for one man, even if his ancestors’ graves were smoking with fortune!
Jiang Pei announced, “Lord Cheng is about to become engaged—to the sixth Miss Su. Both families feel their children are old enough; they don’t intend to delay. When the weather cools, they’ll make their proposal, finalize the betrothal, and proceed directly to marriage.”
Yu Ying felt a thunderous roar in her mind; her lychee water lost all flavor. She could no longer maintain her composure and blurted, “The Su family? The Imperial Consort Su’s family?”
Jiang Pei, delighted at her reaction, said, “Yes, the youngest sister of Imperial Consort Su, I believe her name is Dai’er. We’ve all seen her before—so pretty, already composing poetry at a young age. Now everyone calls her a talented woman.”
Someone in the pavilion remarked, “She matches Lord Cheng well.”
At once, the speaker received ambiguous looks from the others, realizing she’d said the wrong thing. She glanced at Yu Ying and hastily amended, “I mean…they’re both talented…”
But wasn’t that implying Yu Ying lacked talent, and so was unsuited for Cheng Xianzhang, resulting in their divorce?
She tried again: “Yu Lady is so beautiful, she’ll surely find a noble husband someday.”
Yu Ying realized she needed to say something to preserve her dignity and smiled lightly, saying, “I care nothing for noble husbands. When I choose, I never look at rank or family, only at character—and whether he treats me well.”
The Yu family was prominent enough for her to be so willful, and the others fell silent.
All except Jiang Pei.
She asked, “Ying Ying, do you mean Lord Cheng didn’t treat you well back then?”
Yu Ying smiled: “It’s been so many years—let’s not speak ill of others.”
Her magnanimity made Jiang Pei’s probing seem petty.
The conversation shifted again to Cheng Xianzhang and the Su family. Yu Ying grew increasingly agitated, as if even the air was warming. Fortunately, she looked up and saw her second sister, Yu Xuan, approaching.
She immediately rose and called out, “Second Sister—”
Yu Xuan, the second daughter-in-law of the Pei family hosting today’s celebration, came over smiling. She exchanged pleasantries with Jiang Pei and the others, then departed with Yu Ying.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Yu Ying clung to her: “Oh, Second Sister, I’ve missed you so much! All these years, you never came to Luoyang to see me!”
Yu Xuan replied, “And who was it that suddenly left for Luoyang without a word? Who rushed into marriage so quickly I barely had time to react? When you wed, I was still in confinement after childbirth, and with a small child, I couldn’t travel.”
Yu Ying smiled apologetically and buried herself in her sister’s arms.
Yes, she had left for Luoyang without a word, divorced, remarried, distanced herself from Chang’an, from her family and friends, and stayed in Luoyang for five years.
She explained, “At first, I didn’t want to return and be shamed, wanted to clear my mind in Luoyang. Later, when I wished to come back, Third Brother’s health declined, and I stayed to care for him. That’s how it ended up.”
Yu Xuan gazed at the simple silver hairpin in her sister’s hair, her heart aching.
Their cousin had passed only three months ago; as a new widow, Yu Ying still wore mourning clothes and only a silver pin. The Yu family, once eminent, was gradually declining. Their grandfather had worked tirelessly, marrying his eldest granddaughter to the Emperor, his second granddaughter to a court minister, and left his youngest, cherished granddaughter the freedom to choose—she married the newly appointed scholar Cheng Xianzhang, only for her marriage to be the most ill-fated. So young, yet already divorced and widowed.
Yu Xuan sighed, “You mustn’t be so willful anymore. Stay here in the capital; at least this is home, full of familiar faces.”
Yu Ying grumbled, “Don’t remind me! Those women—after years, they’re even more haughty. They dared to provoke me deliberately!”
“How did they provoke you?” Yu Xuan asked.
“They kept mentioning that wretched pauper, how he’s been promoted again, how favored he is—just waiting for me to regret it so they can enjoy the spectacle!”
The ‘wretched pauper’ she referred to was, of course, Cheng Xianzhang.
He came from humble origins and might never have held office, but the dynasty’s enthusiasm for the imperial examination brought him sudden success, and he ascended swiftly to Deputy Censor-in-Chief.
The Censorate was the most esteemed bureau in the realm; many Chancellors had started there. Its chief office, Censor-in-Chief, had been vacant for years, so the Deputy Censor-in-Chief was its de facto leader.
Who could have imagined that years ago, when Cheng Xianzhang visited the Yu family, he didn’t even know how to eat crab?
Yu Xuan cautioned, “He’s a high official now. You mustn’t speak rashly—words can bring trouble.”
“What harm in calling him a wretched pauper? Would he retaliate if he heard?” Yu Ying retorted.
Yu Xuan gave her a concerned look and sighed, “Think—what does the Censorate do?”
What did it do? It impeached officials!
Indeed, their grandfather had retired, and her eldest sister was not faring well in the palace, while Cheng Xianzhang, as Deputy Censor-in-Chief, could send one memorial to the Emperor and have their grandfather summoned for questioning!
It was maddening. Yu Ying stamped her foot in frustration.
Yu Xuan asked, “Do you regret it?”
Yu Ying looked incredulous: “Second Sister, what are you saying? Kicking him out was the best decision I ever made. I finally escaped from the pit—how could I regret it! It’s just—”
She pouted, glaring: “Jiang Pei said he’s marrying Su Ruoyue’s sister—is that true?”
Yu Xuan nodded, “It seems so. I’ve heard something about it.”
“How could he! Cheng Xianzhang is such a heartless bastard—how could he do this!”
She was beside herself with rage.
He knew Su Ruoyue was the person she hated most in her life!
Once, she and Su Ruoyue were close friends, like sisters. She’d take Su Ruoyue to the palace to visit her elder sister, knowing Su Ruoyue liked the palace’s special pastries. But Su Ruoyue deliberately arranged an encounter with the Emperor, gained his favor, and became a consort.
Now, having borne the Emperor’s first child, Su Ruoyue stood equal to Yu Ying’s sister, the Empress. Rumor had it that, because the Empress had no children, her position was at risk.
Cheng Xianzhang had known all of this. Yu Ying had wept bitterly and blamed herself for harming her sister. Cheng Xianzhang had, for once, embraced her and offered words of comfort. She never imagined that, years later, he would marry Su Ruoyue’s sister!
Yu Xuan consoled her, “We have no ties to the Cheng family anymore. Whomever he marries is none of our concern.”
“He’s truly—” Yu Ying fumed for ages before cursing, “I never realized he was such a cold, heartless brute!”
Yu Xuan led her across the rockery, onward: “Enough. Let me take you to see my two little troublemakers—they’ve been wanting to see their aunt.”
“And one more thing—I’ll tell you, but don’t be upset. The past is past, and can’t be helped.”
“What is it?” Yu Ying wondered what else could possibly annoy her today.
“Lord Cheng will be here today. With his rank, he rarely attends such gatherings, but my father-in-law is his teacher, and student’s courtesy demands his presence. He’s also friendly with our youngest uncle, who invited him. But the banquet halls are separate—you may not see him.”
Yu Ying was stunned, then scoffed, “It doesn’t matter. I know, don’t worry. Even if I dislike him, I won’t make a scene at your family’s banquet.”
“That’s good.”
Yu Ying said nothing more, fanning herself briskly as if the heat were unbearable.
Today was the Pei family matriarch’s birthday celebration.
Yu Ying first visited her second sister’s two little nephews, played with them for a while, then returned to the banquet hall. Once, she had been the talk of Chang’an; now, after five years away, her return drew much attention.
Fortunately, her beauty was innate. Even in mourning clothes and silver ornaments, none could rival her allure; the admiration was something she enjoyed.
Yet, ever since she’d learned Cheng Xianzhang would be present, her mind was distracted, worried he might appear unexpectedly and force an awkward encounter. She remained composed, fanning herself gently, determined to be dignified and serene should they meet.
But the Pei family birthday celebration ended without her ever seeing Cheng Xianzhang.
So be it. She found him irritating enough just thinking about him; seeing him would ruin her sleep for the night!
The sun slanted westward, guests departed, and the banquet drew to a close.
Just as she decided she would not see him after all—uncertain if she felt relief or disappointment—she encountered him as the Pei family saw off their guests.
She was about to board her carriage when she heard behind her, “Lord Cheng, please—”
She straightened and looked over, seeing others making room for a sedan. When it cleared, she saw her second sister’s uncle, the Pei family patriarch, personally escorting someone to a carriage. The man stood tall and slender, dressed in a dark blue round-collared robe with subtle patterns. The deep blue lent an air of depth and composure, even a hint of daunting nobility. Had they not once shared a bed, whispered pillow talk, she would never have recognized him as Cheng Xianzhang.
He nodded politely to the Pei patriarch, his face gentle but expressionless, then boarded a black lacquer carriage adorned with white bronze—the white bronze on the roof and shafts signifying the Deputy Censor-in-Chief, a mark of courtly authority.
He entered the carriage; she couldn’t tell if he saw her.
Yet as his carriage moved forward, a breeze lifted the curtain, and he glanced her way.
It was a brief, lofty, indifferent look—his gaze shifted as if she were merely an insignificant insect, and the curtain fell. His carriage rolled onward.
Yu Ying could not tell whether he recognized her, or if he did, whether he cared. His face betrayed not the slightest ripple.
Her chest felt faintly tight. Yun Jin called gently, “Miss?”
She returned to herself and boarded her carriage.
But like the tide, memories surged forth.
Her departure had indeed been impulsive, driven by endless helplessness and despair, yet once married, she still hoped for lasting companionship. But his mother spoke of taking a concubine for him.
And he—married for over a year, never took her out to enjoy the world, never shared gentle moments under the moon and flowers, not even intimate matters unless she initiated them. Yet, on the night of the Qixi Festival, he accompanied his future concubine to the river to float lanterns.
She thought him cold by nature; it turned out he was only cold to her.
How could she endure it? She left behind a divorce letter, gathered her belongings, and departed the capital—not even returning home, but going to her aunt’s in Luoyang.
He made not the slightest effort to keep her; half a month later, he sent her the divorce papers, signed and stamped by the magistrate.
That moment was true despair. She’d always suspected Cheng Xianzhang married her to climb the ladder of the Yu family, but only then did she realize he’d never felt even a shred of affection for her.
All these years, she insisted she was the one who rejected him, the one who married into a noble family, but deep down, she knew: from beginning to end, it was one-sided. He had never loved her.
Yu Ying let down the carriage curtain, feeling her nose sting.