He Qingfu was always meticulous.
To prevent the girl from wondering how she knew the Nation-Guarding Peach Tree was the reincarnation of that little wildflower, she forcibly cobbled together an explanation.
“As the emperor of Jiang, that peach tree naturally came to speak with me.”
“Just like you—one day, it suddenly started talking.”
“It even told me about its dreams, and mentioned an umbrella made from red string, so I guessed it must be the reincarnation of the little wildflower.”
Little Jiang Yan accepted this explanation without question.
She thought, No wonder the other party accepted her so quickly—didn’t even scream when she transformed. Turns out the emperor had already spoken with a peach-wood yao.
With this thought, the little girl glanced at the crane yao.
She nodded in certainty.
—Jiang Chixi was truly an emperor kind to yao.
Little Jiang Yan didn’t notice anything amiss, but Chen Xihe at her side sensed something off. Unless by rare coincidence, yao generally couldn’t know their past lives, and they almost never sought out humans to talk—such risk was far too great, especially for a tree yao with only a spirit, unable to take human form, its true body exposed for all to see.
But after thinking it over, Chen Xihe said nothing.
After all, he was here to help this emperor raise a child. That was his job—nothing more.
Night had grown deep. He Qingfu bid farewell and made her way straight to Jiang’s Nation-Guarding Temple.
The four-hundred-year-old peach tree stood at the center of the courtyard, its branches hung with red prayer ribbons, the blossoms in full bloom, their delicate fragrance filling the whole temple.
He Qingfu slipped in quietly and stood beneath the tree.
She pressed her palm to the trunk and said earnestly:
“I need your help with something, but first, I’d like to tell you a story.”
“Not long ago, something happened to me, and I suddenly remembered my past life. There was a little flower in it.”
The peach tree’s branches swayed gently, as if unsure why she was suddenly saying all this.
He Qingfu softened her voice:
“Many lifetimes ago, when I was leading troops in battle, I was ambushed and hid in a mountain cave.”
“I hid there for three days. Before I left, I gathered some flower seeds and scattered them at the cave’s entrance, hoping they would flourish alongside me.”
“I scattered a whole handful—so many. But the soil at the cave mouth was thin and stony, not suitable for growth. It was hard for any flower to sprout there, but one little flower managed to push through against all odds. The Heavenly Dao always rewards the brave, so it granted the flower a spirit.”
Her voice was soft and gentle:
“Once it had a spirit, it always wanted to find me and repay my kindness. But it was only a spirit, unable to take form, without any yao power—any wind or rain could destroy it.”
“One time, the wind and rain were especially fierce. It cried at the cave entrance. A wedding dress yao found it then, and used red string from its own body to weave a little umbrella, shielding it from the rain for half the night. The wedding dress yao wandered from country to country, never liked by any of its owners, always lonely. The little flower was lonely too. So they talked for a long time in the storm, but the wind was so loud, neither could really hear the other.”
“But they kept talking anyway.”
“The little flower even sang, its voice beautiful in the storm.”
“When dawn came, the wildflower died. It was reincarnated in Jiang as a peach tree, and grew and grew, always feeling it needed to repay this country, to repay someone. Four hundred years later, it met the Empress of Jiang and felt a sense of kinship. The empress thought the tree was beautiful, its blossoms the finest in the land, so she moved it to the Nation-Guarding Temple and made it the sacred tree of the realm.”
As she spoke, He Qingfu watched the peach tree’s reaction.
She hadn’t originally planned to communicate with the peach tree, much less form any connection. After all, past lives were past, not to be dwelled on or pursued. But little Jiang Yan’s words made her realize the girl needed not only family, but friends as well. So she decided to drop a hint to the peach tree, to see if it would be willing to let fall a blossom with a spirit to keep the little bride company.
And this wasn’t a casual decision.
This peach tree would be struck by heavenly lightning next year, its soul utterly destroyed, its blossoms turned to black ash.
Since it had been made the Nation-Guarding Sacred Tree by Jiang Chixi, it bore part of the nation’s fate. Its death would signal looming disasters for Jiang—
Jiang Chixi’s most trusted border general would fall gravely ill, two neighboring states would plot war, and Jiang’s fortunes would begin to decline, forcing the country to seek a way out amid endless difficulties.
All this was the inevitable course of history: a nation’s rise must be followed by decline. He Qingfu did not worry over it.
Her only concern was that “this peach tree’s soul would be annihilated.”
Little Jiang Yan could only play with creatures who had no future. She couldn’t participate in human karma, and those who played with her—human or yao—should also avoid entanglement in mortal affairs, at the very least never exposing her existence.
Just like the crane yao, and the peach-wood yao who would soon die.
With this in mind, He Qingfu sighed.
She told the peach-wood yao before her, “Now, the wedding dress yao who sheltered you in the cave during that storm has appeared. To keep her hidden from exorcists, I’ve concealed her somewhere.”
“I’m afraid she’ll be scared of me, and I don’t know how to explain that I suddenly remembered things from a past life, so I told her it was you who came to me, you who brought up the wildflower.”
“If you want to find her, help me continue this lie. You mustn’t expose her existence, mustn’t mention her to anyone, and mustn’t meet her alone.”
“If you can do all this, let a blossom fall.”
He Qingfu had barely waited half a minute before a little peach blossom drifted down from the branches, landing gently in her palm.
“So that’s why I felt so close to you,” it said. “I never spoke before, always afraid I’d scare everyone to death.”
The little peach blossom’s voice was lively and bold.
He was still young. After circling He Qingfu once, he said proudly:
“After all, so many people love me. They come to see me all the time. If I started talking, I’d scare a whole crowd silly.”
He Qingfu cautioned him seriously, “You mustn’t speak in the future. The people would be frightened.”
The little peach blossom flicked its petals. “Of course I know.”
“I’m very clever.”
He Qingfu confirmed again, “Can you do everything I asked?”
“Of course. We plants and trees never lie,” the little blossom said, while plucking a few slender twigs from the nearby branches and wrapping them around himself, so that when he flew, he looked like he wore a fringe of tassels. “How do I look?”
“First impressions should be noble and elegant.”
He Qingfu was silent for a moment.
She considered, “Not very elegant. She might pull those off you…”
The little blossom quickly backed away.
He Qingfu hurried to add, “Or maybe not, I’m just talking nonsense.”
The little blossom guarded his tassels warily, thought for several minutes, then reluctantly nodded. “Fine.”
“If I don’t like her, you have to bring me back.”
He Qingfu promised, “Absolutely.”
Half an hour later, He Qingfu returned to the palace. After a night of coming and going, she could finally rest.
She brought the little peach blossom to the underground palace.
At that moment, the little girl was already asleep, sprawled on the bed, half her face buried in the pillow, long lashes trembling, her breath soft—sleeping soundly.
The little peach blossom curiously leaned over, standing on her cheek and bending to peer at her.
In her sleep, the little girl scratched her cheek, and after a few breaths, slowly opened her eyes.
She and the little peach blossom stared at each other.
After a moment, the drowsy girl grabbed the blossom and smacked off all the twigs and leaves he’d wrapped around himself.
“What an ugly thing,” she muttered.
Little Peach Blossom: “!!”
Pinched in little Jiang Yan’s hand, his petals drooped, clearly deeply wounded.
But little Jiang Yan didn’t notice.
She quietly stared at the blossom, her bleary eyes finally clearing a bit. She leaned closer, took a deep breath, then lay back on her pillow.
“Smells nice.”
One petal perked up.
“Soft.”
“A little flower that can sing.”
All the petals stood up again.
Little Jiang Yan drifted back to sleep. The blossom slipped from her palm, flew to He Qingfu, and said seriously, “She didn’t mean to call me ugly. She’s just too sleepy. She must have dreamed of a ghost and was calling the ghost ugly.”
He Qingfu nodded. “That’s right.”
“She wasn’t criticizing my sense of style.”
He Qingfu: “That’s right.”
Little Peach Blossom: “She praised me. She likes me.”
He Qingfu: “She probably does.”
Satisfied, the blossom flew to the girl’s pillow, tugged a bit of blanket over himself. “All right, you can all go now.”
“It’s late—nothing worse than humans who disturb a yao’s sleep!”
Chen Xihe sat up in the corner. “Only she’s human. I’m a yao too.”
Little Peach Blossom: “…Oh.”
“You really don’t look it.”
Chen Xihe glanced at his own silver hair, puzzled but accepting, and lay down again.
He Qingfu stifled a laugh and left the underground palace alone.
She wrote in her diary:
Yan Yan now has family and friends.
Little Peach Blossom is very cute—after all, he’s a plant spirit, vain but kind. I just don’t know if Yan Yan can handle how noisy he is.
At this, she paused, her smile fading.
But Little Peach Blossom will die.
I’m really not sure… is it better to never have friends, or to have them and then lose them?
Neither seems good. Neither is good at all.
I don’t want Yan Yan to be sad, so I’d best find a way to save Little Peach Blossom, then hide him away too. But how to repair a spirit struck by heavenly lightning—I don’t know, and no one can tell me.
*
Time passed quickly.
Because Little Peach Blossom only needed to keep his true body rooted in the temple, his spirit could go wherever he wished. Since coming to the underground palace, he’d eaten and lived with little Jiang Yan.
Half a year went by. The underground palace filled with more and more ornaments, and He Qingfu even brought in a batch of luminous pearls to embed in the walls.
The place became warm and cozy.
Chen Xihe cared for the two little ones attentively. Sometimes, when He Qingfu entered, she’d be dazzled by the fatherly glow on his face.
The crane yao’s feelings were pure; the more he cared for the children, the more genuine he became. In the end, he even discussed their education with He Qingfu.
“They need to study.”
One night after dinner, Chen Xihe sat across from He Qingfu, his expression grave as if discussing a matter of life and death.
He Qingfu had thought of this, but felt the two little ones were still young and should enjoy themselves a while longer.
But hearing her response, Chen Xihe shook his head. “Yan Yan wants to study.”
“She’s wanted to for a long time.”
He Qingfu glanced at the little girl not far away. She was lying on her stomach, looking at picture books, carefree. Little Peach Blossom lay beside her, two petals cocked up like crossed legs.
“She’s never told me,” He Qingfu said softly.
“She never told me either. But if her name only needed to be spoken, not written in books or on paper, she wouldn’t think writing ‘Jiang Yan’ was troublesome.”
Chen Xihe said, “She wants her name recorded somewhere.”
He Qingfu was silent for a long time.
At last, she looked at Chen Xihe, very seriously. “You’re wonderful. Thank you.”
“It’s what I should do,” Chen Xihe replied, glancing at little Jiang Yan. “You don’t spend enough time with her.”
“Today Yan Yan asked Tao Tao about the Crown Princess—where she lived as a child. Tao Tao said the Crown Princess always slept with you. Yan Yan sulked all afternoon and refused to play with him, saying he lied.”
“Did he lie to Yan Yan?”
He Qingfu covered her forehead and shook her head gently.
She wanted to explain, but couldn’t find the words, so she simply promised, “I will tonight.”
Chen Xihe nodded, then got up and took a storybook to read to the children.
He Qingfu was decisive. That night, she brought a stack of primer books, and sat with Yan Yan, teaching her the meaning of the lessons. But perhaps because of their different natures, Yan Yan always managed to find intrigue and plots in the most wholesome texts.
After a while, the little girl suddenly grew angry.
She pushed the book aside. “Nonsense.”
Little Peach Blossom cheered her on, “Utter rubbish!”
Chen Xihe took the book away. “That’s enough for today. Wash up and get ready for bed.”
Little Jiang Yan hopped down, slowly scooping water from the vat. He Qingfu followed, soaking a towel, wringing it out, and gently wiping the girl’s face.
Little Jiang Yan asked, “Why aren’t you leaving yet?”
“You should have gone by now.”
He Qingfu replied seriously, “Tonight I’ll sleep with you. I’ll leave after you’re asleep.”
Little Jiang Yan’s eyes lit up.
Her slow movements suddenly sped up, so fast He Qingfu could barely keep up. In just three minutes, the little girl was ready, shoes off, and tucked into bed.
He Qingfu lay down on one side.
After a while, she turned and pulled the little girl into her arms. “Sleep.”
A few breaths later, He Qingfu felt a weight on her shoulder, a soft, warm sensation spreading through her whole body. She looked down and saw little Jiang Yan pressing her face against her shoulder.
He Qingfu squeezed her eyes shut.
Suddenly, she felt a deep ache.
It was hard to say if it was panic or sorrow, as if something she’d been avoiding had come rushing back all at once.
She gently patted the little girl’s back.
Little Peach Blossom floated up, tugged the blanket higher to cover the girl, then sat to one side, catching his breath. After resting, he pried open the girl’s tightly clenched fist and lay down in her palm.
Two hours later, He Qingfu rose quietly.
She couldn’t stay in the underground palace overnight—Jiang Chixi woke early, with palace maids attending her at four, then reading memorials, and court at six.
After He Qingfu left, little Jiang Yan opened her eyes.
She poked Little Peach Blossom’s petal and whispered, “You didn’t lie to me.”
“Mother really was willing to sleep with me.”
“As a reward, sing me a song.”
Little Peach Blossom never refused a chance to show off his voice, but after a few tentative notes, he quickly stopped:
“Ate too much salt tonight, my throat’s hoarse.”
“Then tell me a story,” little Jiang Yan relented.
Little Peach Blossom thought for a moment, then recounted a story he’d heard at the temple. “Not long ago, a northern country suffered a natural disaster. The ground kept shaking, and an emperor’s tomb from many years ago was unearthed. Mud poured in, smashing all the burial goods.”
“So pitiful.”
Little Jiang Yan thought about it. She wanted to say it wasn’t so pitiful, but then thought of He Qingfu, and didn’t want her burial goods to be lost in the future, so she replied, “It is a bit.”
Little Peach Blossom continued, “They say the emperor and empress’s joint tomb was shaken open, and mud buried their bones.”
Little Jiang Yan thought of He Qingfu again, her expression growing serious. “That really is pitiful.”
Little Peach Blossom went on, “They say the two of them were especially close. Storytellers love to talk about them, and their pictures are everywhere.”
Little Jiang Yan gave a noncommittal “oh.”
Little Peach Blossom rocked on his toes, sounding casual. “What kind of relationship do you think is the closest?”
Little Jiang Yan was taken aback.
She frowned in thought. “Whoever stays with me the longest.”
Now it was Little Peach Blossom’s turn to be confused.
Little Jiang Yan repeated, “The one who stays with me the longest is the closest.”
Little Peach Blossom: “Isn’t it the one you like best?”
“The one you like best is the closest.”
Little Jiang Yan looked exasperated.
“That’s nonsense.”
“Only those I like are qualified to stay with me.”
“So the one who stays with me the longest is the closest.”