Ming Lingyi froze. By the time she reacted, she had already jogged to the side of the street and lifted the veil of her hat.
The small figure, dressed in white and gold robes, sat on a pony, looking like he wanted to gallop wildly. His face was very serious, and his little body sat ramrod straight on the horse's back as he quickly sped past Ming Lingyi.
Following closely behind the little boy was a group of students from the Imperial College. Most of those on horseback came from wealthy families and were similarly dressed in rich brocades and finery. The entire procession was quite a flamboyant sight.
At that moment, however, Ming Lingyi felt her eyes begin to burn.
The wind and snow had been fierce that day. The underfloor heating in the palace was roaring, yet she had still felt a bone-chilling cold. But when she saw the tiny figure in the imperial-yellow swaddling clothes, a searing warmth had spread through her heart.
To her, it felt as though she hadn't seen her child in only a day or two, but in truth, five years had already rushed by.
At first, Ming Lingyi couldn't be sure if the little boy she had just seen in the white and gold robes was the same tiny, milky-faced babe from all those years ago—the one who had wailed in his swaddling clothes while trying to chew on his own little fist. But when she saw Cheng Yi following him, her heart knew. That was the child she had given birth to but had never been able to hold.
Cheng Yi had once been the Chief of the Imperial Guard at Li Yun's side. Placing him with the Little Bun now was consistent with Li Yun's way of doing things.
"Little Huachao," Ming Lingyi murmured, gazing after the Little Bun who had already vanished down the street.
Back when the Imperial Physician had first diagnosed her pregnancy, she had calculated that the baby would be born in the second month, just as spring began.
At that time, her relationship with Li Yun hadn't been so terrible. He was full of anticipation for the child and asked her what pet name she wanted to choose.
"Since he'll be born in the second month, let's call him Huazhao."
Li Yun chuckled in spite of himself. "My Prince, named Huazhao? Wouldn't that make us a laughingstock?"
She pouted. "It's not certain he'll be a little prince. What if it's a little princess? You don't like daughters?"
Li Yun embraced her from behind, burying his face near her ear and murmuring, "How could I possibly not?"
"Then what's wrong with Huazhao?"
In the end, Li Yun relented. "Alright, then. We'll call him Little Huachao. When he's older, if he's unhappy with his pet name, I'll tell him his mother personally chose it for him. Whether the little rascal likes it or not, he's stuck with it."
The memory came to an abrupt halt, and Ming Lingyi's eyes ached with a terrible sting.
"Miss, what are you looking at?" Xiao Chun asked, following beside Ming Lingyi. She saw her mistress still standing on tiptoe, peering down the distant Vermilion Bird Street where the group of boys had vanished, and couldn't understand.
Ming Lingyi shook her head, lowering the veil of her hat once more. "It's nothing. Let's go."
She didn't know that shortly after she left, the Little Bun, who should have been on his way to the riding grounds at Jinggong Square, came trotting back on his horse with his guards. CLIP-CLOP.
Cheng Yi followed his young master. They had just been about to reach Jinggong Square when the boy had suddenly turned his horse around and headed back to Vermilion Bird Street.
He had been assigned to the young master's side by the Emperor for the sole purpose of protection. He typically didn't ask questions about things that weren't his concern. But seeing the rare frown on his young master's face, Cheng Yi couldn't help but ask, "Your Highness, did you lose something?"
He asked because his young master was looking all around him.
"Or are you looking for someone?"
Li Yan was five years old and still had baby fat on his cheeks. Usually, however, he wore a cold little expression, a perfect copy of his father, the Emperor. It made people almost forget that, at his age, he should be at his most adorable.
Right now, however, Li Yan's face was full of emotion. He no longer looked like a stuffy little grown-up, but rather a mix of nervousness, anticipation, and even some confusion.
"Guard Cheng, did you see anyone just now?" Li Yan asked.
Cheng Yi replied, "Your Highness, the people here earlier were just the local commoners."
"But..." Li Yan couldn't put the feeling welling up inside him into words. It was as if some invisible force had compelled him to return to this spot.
He had lost his mother the day he was born.
His grandmother in the palace said his mother had gone to a place far, far away. But he knew it wasn't a place far, far away. It meant his mother had died.
But no one dared say that to his face. His father, the Emperor, had even issued an order forbidding anyone, in the palace or outside, from saying that his mother had passed away.
There were no portraits of his mother in the palace. But once, while playing hide-and-seek in his father's private study, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up and rubbed his eyes, he saw his father standing before a row of bookshelves, gazing at a painting hanging above them.
It looked like a painting his father had made himself.
He saw it clearly: a young woman with her hair styled in a married woman's bun, standing under an apricot blossom tree, looking back over her shoulder while holding an umbrella.
The woman in the painting was very beautiful.
That was the first and only time he had ever seen a portrait of his mother.
Just as he was about to jump down from the daybed, his father noticed him.
By the time his feet touched the floor, he discovered that the painting that had been hanging above the bookshelves was gone.
"Father." He ran to the desk and stood ramrod straight, looking at the imposing man in the chair. "Father," he asked directly, "was that Mother you were looking at just now?"
He felt the woman looked so familiar, so kind, that he instinctively wanted to be near her.
'That must be my mother,' he thought.
His words made the man at the desk fall silent for a long time. Just when Li Yan thought he might not get an answer, he finally saw the man nod.
A rare, undisguised excitement appeared on his face. Although his father always told him not to wear his emotions on his sleeve, how could he not be thrilled? It was the first time in his entire life he had seen a picture of his mother. His heart felt like it held a wildly fluttering bird; the joy and excitement were impossible to conceal. "Then, Father... may I... may I have a look?"
The hope in his eyes was overflowing, written plain as day all over his face.
In the end, Li Yan did get to see the painting.
But after that day, he never again saw a single scroll or painting of his mother.
Earlier, as he passed through Vermilion Bird Street, he had caught a glimpse of a woman at the side of the road out of the corner of his eye.
He remembered she was wearing a veil hat, with one hand lifting its curtain.
He hadn't been able to get a clear look at the time; it was just a fleeting glance.
But as he rode on, the face he had glimpsed by chance began to feel more and more familiar.
He couldn't resist coming back to check again, but the person was nowhere to be seen on either side of the street.
Seeing his young master sitting motionless and silent on his horse, Cheng Yi rode closer. "Your Highness?"
Li Yan had trailed off earlier.
"What was Your Highness about to say? You said 'but'?" Cheng Yi prompted.
Li Yan shook his head without a word.
'I know no one would believe me if I said I thought I just saw my mother.'
'Everyone knows my mother passed away five years ago. How could someone who's been dead for five years suddenly appear in the Capital City?'
'But... the resemblance was uncanny.'
Li Yan turned his horse around and once again headed toward the polo grounds.