General Jian Rongyi and Prince Qianzhong must have done something wrong when they raised their eldest child.
The way the princess would happily dress Three up, the way she would match hairpins to coats and dig for earrings with the brightest hues, was damned pitiful.
Of course, she would’ve been even cuter if she didn’t treat Three as a doll to py dress-up with.
‘Which do you like? The green, or the white?’
Three squinted at the mercury mirror.
Pressed against her left chest was a set of green robes; against her right was a set of white. Behind her were two sets of gleaming eyes — the princess and the shopkeeper, the tter of which curiously tracing the scars on her neck with his eyes.
She could only say, ‘I honestly have no idea.’
‘Mm, you’re right,’ the princess mused. ‘That bastard Fifth always wears this green and white is a funerary colour. It’s inauspicious.’
That’s not what I said.
She pursed her lips.
And the white looks good on you anyway.
The green and white was immediately swapped for a set of white robes, a red skirt, and fur-lined coat. The coat was a creamy, pale off-white — it was perhaps the closest one could come to yellow without being arrested for offending the emperor. Though the red embroidery was certainly eye-catching.
‘Try this on,’ said the other. Hands impatiently pushed at her back. ‘Make it quick.’
Orders were orders; in the time it took for Three to get in the change rooms, put on the dress, and come out, the tea sitting on the cquered table hadn’t even lost its steam.
‘This one looks nice,’ the man said. His muscles bulged as he crossed his arms, voice deep and rough. ‘My dy, you have good taste.’
‘Of course I do.’ The princess waved her over with a proud smile. ‘Chicken Feet, come and take a look.’
Three stepped out, once again staring into the mirror.
She had never known she could look like this.
The creature standing before her had a faint confusion in its blue, fme-like eyes. On its chest was two yers of robes; white like snow, with delicate red blossoms and golden, drifting clouds. Then, at its waist was the bright red skirt. The hue had a deepness akin to that of blood; on it were swirling plum blossoms and clouds, embroidered in gold, the flowers and whisps dancing at the hems. It matched its lips.
Was this called ‘beauty’?
Was this truly her?
She searched for some familiarity. For something of the fwed her.
Then, she found it.
The centipede scars, trailing up her wrists and vanishing in the sleeve cuffs. The puckered lines, the gashes, crawling up her colrbones and neck, wrapping around the lines of her face. And under the beautiful silks, her muscles tensed — yes, there were old wounds there too, covering every inch of her except her face.
The face that her young miss once said was the only tolerable thing about her.
She was like an ugly vase, once broken and hastily glued back together. But the princess had taken the shattered her, painting her over with a red porcein gze, following the lines of her scars to grow flowers and clouds.
‘Do you like it?’ The princess’s eyes fixed on hers, the reflection of her eyes on the mirror.
Those eyes were utterly piercing.
The princess repeated, ‘Does it suit you?’
Those eyes, bck like burning charcoal in winter.
It lit fmes in her chest.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I like it.’
‘Good,’ said the other. Then, a chair was pushed under her. ‘Sit for me. Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable.’
She sat. Cool hands gently took hold of her hair, fingers softly combing out the knots in her hair. Some of it was taken and wrapped behind her head — she couldn’t quite see it, not in the mirror, but her eyes traced over and over on the princess’s water-still face, the peace that had silently filled up the air.
A pin slid into her hair. Its body was bck, carved from a dark, oiled wood; it sprouted golden leaves and red, bejewelled plum blossoms.
‘I’d give you more, perhaps a whole headdress,’ the princess murmured, ‘but I felt you would throw a fit.’
‘You felt right.’
A smile fshed across the other’s face. Holding up a pair of long red earrings — more plum blossoms, strung together by swinging, golden clouds — the woman asked, ‘Would you like to put these on?’
She swallowed.
She thought of the white lilies that had never left her right ear, piercing through her until the princess had shattered it.
Perhaps her hesitance, the hint of fear, had been caught by the other; very gently, she was offered, ‘We could do just one ear, if you’d like. Or none.’
But the glint of hope in the other’s eyes had something lurching in her. She couldn’t bear to let that spark go out.
Besides. It was just a piercing.
‘My left ear.’ She gritted her teeth and said, ‘Do my left ear.’ She added, ‘Master, give me a piercing.’
‘I can do that for you.’ The shopkeeper pushed his way to their side, holding up an array of stud earrings. ‘Choose a starter pair. That blossom set is too heavy for a fresh piercing.’
She turned to her master — was she allowed? Only when the other nodded did she turn to the man and say, ‘The flower ones. Gold.’
‘Alright. Please turn around.’
She did as he said, watching as the other picked up a needle from the table’s pincushion and lit a candle. The silver point went into the fme, hovering until it grew a faint, whitish red.
The man turned to the princess. The yers of muscle flexed on his body — his beard swung with each twist of his neck. ‘Could you rub some alcohol on your servant’s ear? The bottle’s on the table, the brown one. No, not that table. The one behind the rack — yes, that’s it.’
The man then grasped the edges of her face; his callused fingers, little white pads that came from sewing and undry, rubbed at her chin and jaw. His eyes, sharp like a knife, pinpointed the piercing on her right ear.
As he watched, the cold touch of cloth pressed on her left ear. The princess. The older woman’s lips were pursed together, a little nervous. She watched the other, taking in the forced smile, the strange shaking as those fingers pulled away —
A sharp pain. Her muscles tightened. It took quite the self-control to avoid punching the shopkeeper from reflex.
But if she did, she’d probably hit a set of abs hard like rock.
She really, really wanted those abs. And those muscles. And that amazing strength…
‘You’re good now,’ the man said. Then, he shoved the golden stud through her ear. ‘Miss, you must keep this one in for around two months. Don’t touch it or let it get wet.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s fine.’
Then, he turned to the princess. ‘My dy, please pay up.’
The other woman nodded. ‘How much?’
‘For the mamianqun set and the leather bde-holder straps? Thirty silver taels. Knives included, on the house.’
A bck brocade bag was flung over. ‘Done. Keep the change.’
With a snap, that powerful hand caught the bag. ‘Thank you for your patronage.’
‘Good.’ The princess grabbed Three’s wrist and pulled her up to stand. ‘Next, we’re buying your bck set.’
‘Already? Wait, how did you even get the money for that?’ Stumbling after the princess, she quickly righted herself and wove through the maze of fabric rolls and racks of cloth.
‘Oh, I sold my father’s horse and a few calligraphy paintings.’
‘You stole?’
A frown. ‘No, I made those.’
She dodged a table. ‘You can paint?’
The princess sneered, ‘What, are you dismissing my talents?’
‘Of course not, Master.’ She was dragged out of the store and onto the street. They made a few turns, the sun beaming down onto her face, blinding her before she blinked away the spots.
But when those spots vanished, she shoved the princess behind her.
The other murmured, ‘This is?’
‘Two,’ she hissed.
The other man stood before them, a frown on his face and his lips pursed into a hard line. He held a red signal fre in his hand. The top of it pointed to the sky. ‘I’m not looking for a fight, Xiao Gua.’ He turned to the princess and said, ‘My master would like to invite you to a meeting. Of course, if you refuse… this fre will go up, and your position will be known to all. The Fifth Prince is very eager to know your whereabouts.’
The Third Princess took a deep breath. ‘Fine. Lead the way.’
Two nodded and turned into the alley.
