The second day of the second month is celebrated as the day when the dragon raises its head, a day marking the onset of spring according to Chinese tradition, when all life awakens from the brutal winter. It is the day when farming work begins anew, heralded by the dragon's movement. This year was particularly special as the royal court had arranged a grand Chinese opera performance and hosted a banquet for the nobles. Grand Chancellor Yang Gong, accompanied by his three sons and grandchildren, was among the attendees. Yang Gong planned to showcase his granddaughter's musical talent, hence instructing Yang Jiurong to bring along her Radiant Swan zither.

    "My respect to Master Yang Gong. Please follow me this way."

    Gonggong, serving as the guide, invited Yang Gong and his family with great respect. The Yang clan, possessing immense influence, commanded respect wherever they went.

    Yang Shaoing, newly appointed as a royal guard, was so proud of the prestige, he fully adorned in his ceremonial attire, holding a sharp crescent halberd, walking alongside his father and the two uncles. Yang Jiurong and her younger siblings, whose old enough to understand, clung to their mother, experiencing their first visit to the royal palace, overwhelmed by its magnificence and grandeur.

    The initial feeling was excitement, as the grandeur and beauty of the royal palace were unlike anything she had seen. The intimidating walls served as a stark reminder of their imposing authority. Since being allowed to leave her room, Yang Jiurong hadn't dared to ask her grandfather why she had been sent to pray in the chapel that day.

    Then Yang Gong spoke up,

    "You must marry Prince Zhao Lu. Do not let the daughter of that house steal him away."

    "But, I don't want to marry..."

    "The decision has been made. I do not need your opinion. "

    Yang Jiurong lowered her head, resigned to her fate, silently weeping inside, as any objection would be seen as ‘unfilial’, a grievous offense akin to rebellion. As the grand palace gates opened, a gust of wind seemed to signify the irrevocable change in her destiny.

    The outer walls of the palace were immense and guarded stringently. The inner gates led to another wall, the second layer built from mountain stone, guarded twice as diligently. Even the brave men would feel intimidated. As Yang Jiurong followed her mother, she expected to reach the main palace soon but was confronted instead by a third wall, exquisitely carved from marble, adorned with hundreds of dragon pillars. Impossible to calculate how much money and labor had been used.

    Inside the triple-layered walls lay the splendor of the Gaoshan Palace, merely one of many. Seeing his daughter's distracted demeanor, Yang Jiancheng sternly reminded her,

    "This is not a place for childish behavior. Be mindful of your words and actions. Do not embarrass your grandfather."

    "Yes, Father."

    Her eyes darted around, feeling the invisible walls moving toward her. She looked up at the birds soaring freely. Following eunuch for a while then entered a park that used natural rocks to form a mountain, using labor to dig a lane to divert water from the river, forming an artificial waterfall. This place also raised sedge of crane and uncountable number of deers, just like a paradise on earth. Yang Jiurong noticed that the flower in front of her was beautiful yet scentless, looked closely then realized it was crafted from gems, a testament to meticulous artisanship.

    The extravagance of the palace was astounding.

    "Look, Sister Jiurong, there are cranes too," Baoyu, the youngest brother, pointed out.

    "They're beautiful, but why do they walk so strangely?" Yang Jiurong looked, she then realized the crane’s wings were clipped, unable to fly. She looked away in sorrow. "Why must humans be so cruel?"

    "The Shen clan, Master Shen Shijie, and his relatives request an audience."

    Gonggong announced the arrivals in succession. The Shen clan was one of the four great clan: the ruling Zhao, the noble Sima, the military Yang, and the wealthy Shen.

    With the empress being a Shen Shijie’s daughter and the crown prince bearing half of Shen blood, the Shen family's influence had grown, often clashing with the Sima. As Yang Gong aligned with Prince Zhao Lu, the stakes for Zhao Chenfeng grew perilously high.

    "Taizi, are Your Highness certain about this decision? Acting hastily could backfire."

    "I've made up my mind. We must strike decisively, like splitting bamboo. A few cuts and it will split along its grain."

    Zhao Chenfeng was conversing with his associates when he noticed Shen Fengyi, a younger relative, attending the banquet as well. This younger brother was notably dignified and poised, with a stature and intellect that could match his own, yet their fortunes were starkly different. With the Empress having no sons, Zhao Chenfeng was taken in and nurtured, setting Shen Fengyi on a distant path. Moreover, Shen Shijie consistently supported and encouraged Shen Fengyi to pursue extensive education for future service, leading to Shen Fengyi's considerable resentment toward Zhao Chenfeng, who seemed to have everything handed to him. Thus, Shen Fengyi harbored a strong dislike for Zhao Chenfeng, even composing satirical writings laden with sharp rhetoric, condemning the ‘green snake in dragon's skin’, maintaining mere formalities when they met, never willing to have a conversation akin to their childhood interactions.

    Aware of this animosity, Zhao Chenfeng tried to avoid direct confrontations with his younger kin. Once, when their carriages crossed paths, the Crown Prince courteously gave way to Shen Fengyi, who interpreted the gesture as a ploy for him to earn reprimands from the elders, fueling his anger further.

    "Have you no intention to discipline him?" Dan Yong, an advisor to Zhao Chenfeng who had read Shen Fengyi's accusatory texts, expressed his lingering irritation. Zhao Chenfeng, however, merely smiled, watching Shen Fengyi's retreating figure with an inscrutable gaze.

    "He may be arrogant, but he's talented. Anything he sees, he remembers; anything he hears, he comprehends. A person like Fengyii is indeed formidable, and his provocative writing style only adds to the thrill, doesn't it?"

    "Exactly, I read it in one go."

    "I admire his writing flair and wish to recruit him."

    Dan Yong shook his head slightly in disagreement. "He may be competent but also narrow-minded. You are his elder and the crown prince, yet Shen Fengyi fails to discern properly. I doubt he will easily concede to you."

    "I have my ways of persuasion."

    Zhao Chenfeng's gaze lingered on the delicate figure in pale blue dress. Today Miss Yang Jiurong seemed so well-behaved and gentle, stood gracefully amidst potted flowers, bathed in gentle sunlight, exuding vivacity. A breeze carried a subtle, refreshing citrus scent mingled with floral notes.

    Zhao Chenfeng observing her moon-like face and her sweet big beautiful eyes, one might perceive her as a delicate swan. Yet, Zhao Chenfeng knew her true color—a wild boar Recalling her unladylike voice and manner, he couldn't suppress a smirk, noting that another suitable young man was also watching her.

    "Jiu Rong," Shen Fengyi approached her warmly, his admiration was obvious. "I've got some sweet jujube for you. Knowing your fondness for them, I saved some. I'll have them delivered."

    "Thank you, brother Feng Yi. You're always so kind."

    "The pregnant cat you asked me to take care of has given birth to five kittens. Come see them at my place."

    "Let's go! Are the kittens cute? Have you named them yet?" Yang Jiurong, familiar with Shen Fengyi since childhood. He always brought her nice toys and delicious treat. Bao Yu also enjoyed visiting Shen residence to play with friends his age. Shen Fengyi often lingered, awaiting her to come pick her brother home. Once she knew the beautiful white cat she brought from the market had given birth, she was so excited.

    "Master Shen, Jiu Rong, this is not a proper place for casual chat. Men and women should maintain appropriate distance. Master Shen, you should also respect Jiu Rong," intervened Sima Xiang, prompting Shen Fengyi to excuse himself.

    "I told you so many times, you’re a grown-up, not a child. You're making your grandfather and father embarrassed. What's crucial in social interactions? Do you remember what I taught?"

    "Consider others’ perceptions over your own feelings."

    She whispered, her voice fading. Sima Xiang continued reprimanding, as Yang Jiurong stood meekly beside her mother, awaiting her turn to be announced. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as the early spring breeze caressed her cheeks gently until a pair of warm hands rested on her shoulders, accompanied by a soft, deep whisper.

    "How about it... little runt?"

    Little runt?

    As she turned around, Zhao Chenfeng almost immediately let go of her. His attire, significantly different from when they last met outside the palace, was a finely embroidered dragon patterned. The Mian he was wearing[1] signified his high status. This, combined with his dignified demeanor and undeniable charm, made him even more imposing. Yang Jiurong, adhering to her mother's teachings, forced a smile and took a slight step back, overwhelmed by his commanding presence.

    Who is this?

    Adhering to proper etiquette, she should announce her name and respectfully acknowledge his status. Yang Jiurong tried to maintain a friendly smile while looking into his sharp eyes, trailing down to his well-defined nose and perfectly shaped lips. The young man's jawline, accentuated by a faint stubble. The standout part was an aura of nobility, compelling respect from those around him. Feeling a vague familiarity, she widened her eyes, and her practiced demure smile faded instantly.

    "You're crazy... you..."

    Yang Jiurong suddenly remembered where she was and managed to check herself, glaring as if ready to confront the tall figure before her. Zhao Chenfeng's manner was more genteel and friendly than their previous encounter, a subtle smile gracing his lips like another mask he wore. Unwittingly, Yang Jiurong braced her hips, standing defiantly.

    "What do you want from me now!"

    Yang Gong, noticing someone engaging his niece, approached with surprise but disguised his reaction with a polite bow. Simultaneously, Yang Jiurong's father, Yang Jiancheng, took her arm and handed her over to his wife. Zhao Chenfeng said nothing further and did not look at her again.

    "Since when have you been acquainted with Taizi?"

    "Mother, who did you say he is?"

    "That man is Taizi. We'll settle this matter later," Sima Xiang whispered sharply, causing Yang Jiurong to tense even more.

    "Damned. Why is someone so cruel a Taizi?" Upon realizing his true status, Yang Jiurong's eyes bulged, whispering to her brother that she might get her legs chopped off then thrown into a pot.

    "Why your legs getting chopped off?"

    "Well..."

    Yang Gong laughed heartily, resembling a kindly elder. "Offer my greetings to Taizi. I've heard you’ve been unwell recently, hardly leaving the palace to assist His Majesty with state affairs. How is your health now?"

    "Neither poor nor great. My body and illness are sizing up. A slight negligence, and the symptoms flare up every time."

    Yang Jiurong had heard that Zhao Chenfeng's biological mother belonged to the Shen family, while his father was the current Emperor's brother. After his father's demise due to political strife, the Empress adopted the boy to undercut the power of the concubines. Knowing she was a pawn in palace intrigue, Zhao Chenfeng cultivated virtue and capability from a young age, excelling in military command and people management. The emperor thus uprightly chose him as the crown prince. Although many scholars and generals supported him, Zhao Lu had the advantage of royal blood and was cunning, bribing concubines to whisper to the Emperor and accumulating noble’s loyalty to sway emperor favor. At this point, the crown prince's support was dwindling, prompting Yang Gong to tactfully voice his insinuations.

    "Today, His Majesty has chosen 'The Mighty Dragon', Chinese opera which signifies that when showcasing great power, it will soar into the sky. However, if it is ill or weak, it will plunge into the ocean to lurk and wait for the time to regain strength. Wherever it is, it can survive because the dragon is immensely wise. What do you think His Majesty intends to commend by choosing this opera?"

    Prince Zhao Chenfeng's eyes sparkled briefly before he responded softly,

    "I lack wisdom. Being the crown prince and revered by others is due to my mother's nurturing grace. My few followers cannot compare to anyone's majesty. As for who could be the mighty dragon, I dare not speculate."

    "If you lacked capability, His Majesty would surely not have chosen you as the successor. Why then so humble?" Yang Gong feigned praise. "Nowadays, I see no one with intelligence throughout the land that could compare to Your Highness."

    At that moment, the sound of drums from the central opera house in the garden thundered, startling Zhao Chenfeng. He pretended to cover his ears until it was clear the noise was from the opera, then acted as if nothing had happened. Seeing this, Yang Gong laughed, "I am indeed aging, while Your Highness is still young and robust. Born a man, tasked with leading battles, why so faint-hearted?"

    "Wuguo Buffaloes pant at the sight of the moon[2]." Since childhood, I've feared the sound of thunder. Thus, my father sent me to command the army to overcome this trait, but I loathed it so much that I only stayed in the residence, leaving Tanyong to oversee the troops. Sigh... I consider myself fortunate to have Dan Yong's assistance."

    "Dan Yong is indeed capable, and I respect him.,"

    Yang Gong praised, feeling contempt for the crown prince who appeared dignified but was timorous and thoughtless. Comforted, Yang Gong harbored no further suspicions. However, Yang Jiurong remained uneasy, suspecting the prince's apparent weakness was merely a facade, hiding a sharp sword beneath a mask for years. For what purpose?

    "I hold great respect for you, sir" Yang Jiurong bowed along with her younger brother and mother. Instead of a formal greeting, she said 'I hold respect' making Zhao Chenfeng unintentionally smile.

    "Respect for what?"

    "My teacher often instructs me to be like the bamboo, yielding and humble, not resisting the storm. Those who are more yielding are advantageous. I didn't quite understand it, but today I've learned from Your Highness."

    The tall figure met her gaze, leaning in so close that Yang Jiurong could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and smell a subtle fragrance from him.

    "Little one... If people are always obstinate, not knowing how to calm their words, their lives tend not to last long."

    Yang Jiurong abruptly stepped back, and Zhao Chenfeng walked away as if nothing had transpired. She furrowed her brows, feeling even more uneasy. This man was the most unsettling of all.

[6] The hat or crown that the upper-class wears over their hair bun.

[7] "The term 'Wuguo buffaloes' refers to buffaloes in the regions around the Yangtze River. This area experiences long periods of heat during the summer, and buffaloes, being creatures that dislike heat, mistakenly assume the moon for the sun and thus start panting. It serves as a metaphor for individuals who are anxious or fearful about something; when they encounter anything remotely similar, they irrationally succumb to fear.