Morning light slipped gently through the carved lattice of the window. Feng Yao slowly opened her eyes, keeping her breath calm as her gaze settled on the figure still asleep beside her—Lang Huan.
Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, and her breathing was soft and steady. The blanket had slipped slightly off her shoulder. Feng Yao reached over and pulled it back up, tucking it around her gently.
A soft knock came from the outer door.
Rising quietly from the bed, Feng Yao walked to open the door. A Li stood there, carrying a basin of warm water and a folded cloth.
"Your Highness," A Li whispered with a small bow. "Good morning."
Feng Yao nodded and moved to sit in front of her mirror. A Li stepped forward, helping her rinse her mouth before dipping the cloth into the warm water to begin washing her face and neck. But as the damp cloth brushed the side of Feng Yao's neck, A Li suddenly froze."
Feng Yao glanced at her through the mirror. "What is it?"
A Li leaned in, eyes wide in alarm. "Your Highness…" she said in a near whisper. "There are several marks on your neck…"
Without thinking, she gently lifted the long sleeve of Feng Yao's night robe and checked her wrist. The red shougongsha[1] mark was still clearly visible.
She let out a quiet breath of relief.
Feng Yao, now curious, turned her head slightly and caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes widened. Several deep red marks stood out clearly along her neck and collarbone. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
"…Lang Huan," she muttered through gritted teeth, her tone a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. "That brat…"
Before she could say more, another knock came from outside. A Li set down the cloth and stepped away to answer. At the door stood a palace maid, bowing respectfully.
"Madam Su from the Duke's mansion has arrived. She requests an audience with Your Highness."
Feng Yao's expression darkened slightly. "Su Qing?" she repeated. "What does that woman want this early in the morning?" She waved her hand. "Let her wait in the reception hall."
"Yes, Your Highness." The maid bowed again and withdrew.
A Li returned with a small lacquered box and opened it to reveal a fine pearl powder. "I can cover the mark with this," she offered.
But before she could begin, Feng Yao raised a hand to stop her. Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as she looked at herself in the mirror.
"No need," she said softly. "Bring me the high-collared robe—the dark blue one with golden cloud embroidery."
A Li hesitated, confused. "But, Your Highness—"
Feng Yao was already standing, reaching for her comb and beginning to fix her hair. With a quiet sigh, A Li went to retrieve the robe.
The morning had only just begun, but tension already simmered beneath the calm surface of the princess's mansion.
Once her hair was neatly pinned up and the high collar of the embroidered robe wrapped gracefully around her neck, hiding the mark from view, Feng Yao turned her attention back to the bed.
Lang Huan was still curled up under the covers, her face peaceful.
Feng Yao walked over and gently touched her shoulder. "Wake up."
Lang Huan stirred, eyes fluttering open. "It's still early…"
"You have work to do," Feng Yao said with a soft smile. "The Jinse Pavilion still needs repairs."
Lang Huan sighed and sat up, rubbing her face with both hands. "Ah yes… if I'm going to marry a princess, I'll need to work harder…"
Feng Yao didn't reply, gently helping her wash, as if it were a daily routine between them.
Lang Huan rose from the bed and stood still, letting Feng Yao fasten her belt and straighten the folds of her robe with care.
"I asked A Li to arrange for you to leave through the back gate. Wu Ming is waiting with the workers."
Lang Huan frowned. "The back gate?"
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Why do I feel like some secret lover being sneaked out before anyone notices?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Or… is your other lover coming, and I need to disappear before he sees me?"
Feng Yao let out a soft laugh and reached up to brush her fingers lightly across Lang Huan's cheek.
"Silly... There's some minor renovation at the front. It'll be easier this way."
Her voice softened. "Be good. Listen to me."
Lang Huan stared at her for a moment, then nodded with a smile.
Feng Yao patted her shoulder and gave her appearance one last check, smoothing the fabric of her sleeve.
Just as Lang Huan was about to head out, Feng Yao remembered something. "Are you hungry? Should I have A Li pack you some food?"
Lang Huan shook her head. "No need. I'll eat once I get home."
"Alright," Feng Yao said with a gentle smile.
Lang Huan leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then turned and slipped quietly out through the back gate with A Li.
---
Upon arriving at Jinse Pavilion, Lang Huan began assigning tasks to the workers one by one. The morning air was brisk, but her expression stayed calm and focused. After giving the final instructions, she turned to Wu Ming.
"I need to return to the Duke's mansion," she said. "Can I trouble you to oversee things while I'm gone?"
Wu Ming nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Leave it to me."
Lang Huan gave a brief nod of thanks, then mounted her horse and rode off, her figure disappearing down the busy road.
At the Duke of Huguo's mansion, she walked through the familiar corridors, the sound of her boots echoing lightly against the polished stone floor. She paused when she saw the Duke—seated at a stone table in the garden, a cup of tea in hand, quietly enjoying the view.
She stepped forward and sat across from him. Her tone turned serious.
"Father, there's something I want to discuss."
The duke raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He had always regretted the distance between them—years of war and duty had built walls he hadn't known how to tear down. It pleased him to see Lang Huan initiating the conversation now.
"What is it?"
Lang Huan sat straight, her voice steady. "I want you to propose a marriage to the Emperor."
A proud smile appeared on the Duke's face. "Yes. The Eighth Princess will return to the capital soon. It's time you were properly matched."
Lang Huan shook her head gently.
"No, not the Eighth Princess," she said quietly. "I don't know her. I want to marry the Eldest Princess."
The duke froze.
His expression darkened, the smile vanishing from his lips.
"No, Lang Huan. You can't," he said, his voice firm. "She knows the Dragon Stallion Army will be passed to you. That's why she's getting close."
Lang Huan didn't blink. Her tone remained calm.
"Whether I inherit the army or not, I will still marry her."
The words dropped like stone between them.
The duke stared at her, disbelief tightening the lines in his face, but Lang Huan continued, unwavering.
"You always said we must serve the people, no matter the cost. And you said yourself—none of the princes are fit to rule. Not one of them can match the Eldest Princess in leadership or vision."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Why shouldn't we support her?"
Then the duke's voice rose sharply.
"This is absurd!" he snapped, slamming his fist on the stone table. "You speak of letting a woman take the throne? Lead Great Qi? Nonsense!"
His eyes burned. "Su Qing was right… she's filled your head with dangerous ideas."
He stood abruptly, tension coiled in every line of his body.
"Forget about marrying her."
Lang Huan inhaled slowly, steadying the fire rising in her chest.
"So," she said quietly, "you'd rather the Great Qi fall into incompetent hands—just because they're male?"
The duke's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I said."
"But that's what you meant." Her voice was calm, but firm. "You taught me loyalty to the state comes before all. That it is our duty to protect the people—regardless of who wears the crown. If you truly believe that, then her gender shouldn't matter."
The duke clenched his jaw, but the anger in his eyes fading just slightly.
"Whatever your reasons," he said coldly, "I forbid it. Marry anyone else. Find a woman who will dedicate her life to you, give birth to your children and take care of your family."
Lang Huan stood up slowly. Her voice was quiet, but sharp.
"You mean someone like my mother? Or Su Qing?" She looked him in the eye. "As their husband, you wasted their lives.
She remembered how the Duke of Huguo hadn't shed a single tear when his first wife died. Not even a word of sorrow. All he had cared about was his bloodline.
The duke's face twisted with anger. "Your mother… that woman was a spy. Don't ever bring her up again. How dare you speak to your father like this?"
He took a step toward her, his voice growing louder.
"Don't see the Eldest Princess again! She's already poisoned your mind!"
Lang Huan's expression didn't change, but the heat within her flared. Her fingers clenched the edge of the stone table—and with a sharp CRACK! the surface split in two.
The duke staggered back in shock, falling onto the stool behind him.
Lang Huan stared down at him, her voice like cold steel.
"I've made my decision. No one can stop me from loving her."
She bowed with formal respect, then turned and walked away—her steps steady, —leaving the Duke alone in the garden.
[1] refers to an ancient Chinese practice used to determine a woman's virginity