Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Ayin, We... Even the carved green bamboo-leaf pattern on the corner of the jade flute had cracked when it struck the ground. Beneath the sunlight streaming through the window, the shattered jade glimmered faintly, like bamboo leaves after the rain, their surfaces drooping with a sheen like trails of wet tears. The imperial hall was silent. For a time, not the slightest sound could be heard. Only the incense burner continued to release wisps of smoke without a sound, inch by inch, thread by thread, burrowing into the hearts of those present. It was as though the smoke meant to make one gasp for breath. The secluded hall was utterly still, yet the heart inside Shaoyin’s chest pounded violently, as if it would burst from her body. In the end, Xiao Heng was the first to break the suffocating silence. In his usual tone of voice, he instructed Cheng An to clear away the broken bowl from the floor and ordered the palace attendants to clean up the remnants of the sweet soup. He himself bent down and picked up the jade flute, which had broken into two pieces, holding it in his hand and examining it as though considering whether it could still be repaired. “It’s all right.” When he saw her looking at the jade flute in his hand, Xiao Heng even smiled and said, “It should be repairable. I’ve repaired it once before, so I have some experience.” The furious agitation surging through her heart like raging waves seemed to turn into an even deeper, more bitter mockery beneath Xiao Heng’s calm smile, as though nothing had happened. That profound mockery, deep and cold, spread through Shaoyin’s heart like the endless waters of a vast ocean, drowning her within it—and drowning Xiao Heng as well. Xiao Heng remained composed. He seemed intent on interpreting her sudden act of shoving away the bowl as merely one of the little tempers she had been prone to lately. As always, he was endlessly tolerant, neither pursuing the matter nor taking offense. Still smiling gently, he said, “Never mind. There will be plenty of time to taste this tremella-and-lotus-seed sweet soup again. Once we…” “Once we…” Xiao Heng stroked the broken flute in his hand. After a brief silence, he continued, “Once we… are married.” His gaze lifted and settled on her face. It was as tranquil as an unblemished water mirror, shining clearly enough to reflect the human heart. “Ayin, shall we marry?” A great mockery rose within Shaoyin’s heart. Endless cold laughter rang through her chest, mocking Xiao Heng, mocking herself, and mocking so much more of this world. Yet she pressed her lips tightly together, as though she could not utter a single word. Her teeth began to tremble faintly at the roots, as if the blood frozen by rage and hatred were being crushed between her lips and teeth. Xiao Heng continued speaking, his gentle voice sounding at once like an explanation and an attempt to persuade her. “Living alone in this world is inevitably rather lonely. Don’t you want a child? A child who belongs only to you…” “What would be wrong with me being that child’s birth father? I can provide that child with the finest things in this world and shield that child from wind and rain. You won’t have to worry about the child being bullied in the future. You will never have to worry about that.” It was a child again. The words Xiao Heng spoke at that moment overlapped in Shaoyin’s mind with what her Aunt had said, converging and intertwining. It was as though two tracks of fate had met in the same place, despite each harboring its own intentions. Shaoyin looked at Xiao Heng before her as if she were watching someone who knew that a cup of wine might contain poison—someone who knew that deadly poison might be hidden within the fine wine, yet still calmly lifted the cup to his lips with his own hands. The poison steeped in the wine seemed to seep invisibly into Shaoyin’s heart as well, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue and burrowing, little by little, toward the deepest part of her heart. All the violent turmoil within Shaoyin slowly seemed to settle, sinking into the bottomless depths of a dark sea. She looked calmly at Xiao Heng before her and heard her own voice say faintly, “All right. What’s wrong with that?” As the seasons entered the warm spring, the news that His Majesty would marry County Princess Yongning and invest County Princess Yongning as the Empress of Daqi flew through every street and alley of the capital like the omnipresent spirit of spring. People discussed it fervently, their clamoring voices surpassing even the steadily rising temperatures of the days. The emperor’s marriage to his principal wife was a matter of national importance, and the rituals involved were naturally complex beyond measure. Thus, from the very day His Majesty suddenly issued his edict, the Ministry of Rites, Directorate of Astrology, Court of Imperial Sacrifices, and other offices throughout the court were all thrown into a frenzy of activity. His Majesty’s edict had truly come too suddenly. Although people had long known that His Majesty favored County Princess Yongning, everyone had assumed that he would merely bring County Princess Yongning into the Imperial Harem and invest her as a consort. After all, County Princess Yongning had been married before. She had been the Heir Princess of Shuobei’s Heir Prince, and she also had an aunt who was a criminal. Her family status was ordinary now as well. By every measure, County Princess Yongning seemed unsuitable to become the mother of the realm in Daqi. Who could have expected that His Majesty would favor her to such an extent that he would directly make her Empress? He even seemed terribly eager, ordering the Directorate of Astrology to select the nearest auspicious date. He demanded both a grand and magnificent investiture ceremony and that it be held as soon as possible. The offices concerned were so busy every day that they could barely manage, wishing there were twenty-four hours in a single day. The Xue family’s gates were likewise crowded with carriages, and their residence was bustling with visitors from morning to night. Every day, aristocratic clans and powerful families came to offer their congratulations and gifts. The Xue family stewards were constantly occupied receiving guests, while every servant in the household seemed to have several times as much work as before. Though everyone was exhausted each day, their hearts were full of excitement and joy. Their masters were about to rise in prominence once more, and the family would soon produce an Empress. But the true members of the Xue family seemed to harbor more worry than happiness. Because Yan Huiniang knew nothing of the true circumstances, she was merely filled with doubts. She could not understand why the younger sister whose heart had once held only her deceased husband had suddenly fallen in love with His Majesty, nor why His Majesty had suddenly developed such profound feelings for her sister that he intended to make her Empress outright. She was also worried that the emperor’s favor was fickle. What if His Majesty treated her sister as he had in all those years before? By then, with her sister already the Empress, how would she conduct herself? Would she have to endure it for the rest of her life, living in misery and frustration? Or, unable to bear it, would she provoke the emperor’s fury, receive severe punishment from His Majesty, or even be stripped of her position as Empress and sent to the Cold Palace? In Yan Huiniang’s heart, rather than becoming the lonely Empress of Daqi, standing in a lofty place where the cold was unbearable, her sister would be better off marrying His Highness Prince Chu and becoming a peaceful princess-consort—respected, cherished, and able to live out her life in leisure and safety. Yet after this year’s Lantern Festival, her sister had cut off contact with His Highness Prince Chu. When Yan Huiniang had asked her, puzzled, her sister had only said that she and His Highness Prince Chu had “no fate.” Whenever Yan Huiniang tried to persuade her or ask further, her sister would say nothing at all. Now that matters had come to this, with the imperial edict already issued and preparations for the imperial wedding proceeding in full swing, her sister was certain to become the Empress of Daqi. No matter how confused or worried Yan Huiniang felt, it was useless. The only thing she could do was sincerely pray for her sister—for His Majesty to be genuine in his feelings toward her, and for that sincerity never to change throughout his life; for her sister to be able to remain the Empress of Daqi in peace and security, and to live out this life safely. As the current mistress of the Xue household, Yan Huiniang was busy every day to the point of exhaustion, making preparations for the wedding ceremony marking her sister’s elevation to Empress: arranging how her sister would leave the residence to marry, as well as the countless complicated rites before and after the ceremony. Thus, when she was so busy that she barely had time to take a sip of water, she could not help feeling somewhat irritated whenever she saw that her husband seemed to be acting like a hands-off shopkeeper. She could not help complaining, “His Majesty granted you leave so that you could come home and properly assist with the preparations, not so that you could sit around idly.” Xue Ming’s distracted behavior was naturally because his heart was burdened by too many concerns. He found it impossible to show even the slightest enthusiasm for helping prepare the imperial wedding. However, he could not reveal his true worries to his wife and leave her as anxious as he was. So he lowered his head and apologized to her, telling her to go and get some proper rest, saying that he would receive the guests and handle the various matters himself. Yan Huiniang had always been good-natured. After voicing her complaint, she saw her husband lower his head and apologize, and the small trace of resentment in her heart immediately vanished without a trace. But she did not listen to him and go rest in their room. Instead, she said, “I’m going to check on Xue Zhan and Xue Yi. I’ve been so busy these past few days that I haven’t had time to keep an eye on them. Who knows whether they’ve taken advantage of their mother’s absence to climb onto the roof and tear off the tiles, instead of properly following their tutor and learning their characters.” After his wife left, Xue Ming remained in the main reception hall for only a short while before handing these complicated affairs over to the steward to handle for the time being. He went alone to the quiet room behind the hall. The bustle of people coming and going in the front hall passed by his ears like the sound of wind, while the words Physician Song had spoken continued to echo in his heart. Physician Song Qi had once been a physician of the Imperial Medical Academy. At the time, he had treated his father and, like the other physicians, diagnosed him with a stroke. But when Xue Ming questioned him now, Physician Song told him that a stroke could also be induced by human intervention. When Xue Ming pressed him on why he had not told him of this possibility back then, Physician Song said that he had reported it to Empress Xue, and that Her Ladyship the Empress had known about it at the time. His Aunt had known. And Shaoyin often entered the palace to visit her Aunt. Xue Ming had countless suspicions in his heart, and each one deepened his worry for his sister. He seemed to have faintly guessed what his sister wanted to do, but he did not want to see her do it. He did not want her to bear those burdens. They should have been his to bear—all of them should have been borne by him. If his suspicions were true, then his sister had placed herself in immense danger while being forced to do something against her own nature. He wanted her to live a peaceful and happy life, not to be as she was now. Should he find a way to stop this wedding? Should he stop it at all costs? While Xue Ming was filled with worry and fear over this, his Aunt, Xue Jingrong, was in Chongqing Palace, overwhelmed with joy at the wonderful news her niece Shaoyin had brought her. Shaoyin had repeatedly delayed matters before, and her attitude had seemed ambiguous and uncertain. Xue Jingrong had worried that Shaoyin intended to retreat or had developed other thoughts, and would no longer listen to her Aunt. Fortunately, Shaoyin was her good child. In the end, she had still brought her this excellent news. The matter was progressing just as she had imagined, and everything was proceeding smoothly. “No wonder this remote place of mine has seemed livelier lately. So it turns out you’ve already accomplished this.” As Xue Jingrong spoke happily, she also apologized to Shaoyin. “There were a few times before when your Aunt spoke too hastily. Don’t take it to heart. I was only worried—worried that your feelings for Xiao Heng from the past would make you forget the hatred your family bears. It was only your Aunt thinking too much.”