The princess' confession left me reeling. "I already have a love," she admitted, twirling a strand of my hair, "but I couldn't resist meddling in yours. You two were so stubborn!" She mimicked Yu Beijing's deep voice: "I love Yuniang… forever!" before dissolving into giggles.
I buried my face in my hands. "My father decreed," she continued, adopting a gruff imperial tone, "'This Yu Beijing is a prodigy—no distractions until he wins the triple crown.'"
Days later, Yu Beijing's name topped the Huiyuan list. Mother wept, clutching her rosary. "Heaven took my eldest, but gave me a daughter and a future."
The princess occupied herself with vengeance. She dragged Fan Guangzong into the clinic, his face bruised and bloodied. "Your brother's handiwork," she spat. "He gambled away your family's fortune, then killed your father in a fit."
I visited my mother's deathbed. She wheezed, tears streaming, but I remained silent. When she passed, the princess arranged her burial in our hometown. "Closure," she said simply.
On the day of the palace exam, the princess fidgeted beside me. When Yu Beijing's name was announced as Zhuangyuan, she whooped while I sobbed into his chest.
Just as we celebrated, Mother burst in, eyes wild. "Beiguo… he's home!"
We found him in the courtyard, scarred and hollow-eyed, holding a small boy. "This is your nephew," he rasped. "His mother… didn't survive the war."
Yu Beijing stiffened. The princess' steward appeared, bowing deeply. "His Majesty commands the Zhuangyuan's presence. The wedding is set—with the princess."
That night, Yu Beijing pressed a letter into my hand. "Meet me at dawn. We'll flee."
But as the sun rose, I placed the scroll in the princess' hands. "He's all yours."
Her carriage departed, carrying the man I loved. In the distance, a child's cries echoed—a reminder of the family I'd gained, and the one I'd lost.
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