Chapter 42

Chapter 42: He Was Also… Bright-red blood gushed forth in torrents. No matter how tightly Shaoyin pressed her hands against the wound, she could not stem the flow or stop the life from draining out of Aunt. “...Aunt... Aunt...” Her throat was raw with pain, and her voice suddenly failed. She tried with all her strength to call out, yet not a sound emerged. Aunt’s lips trembled faintly, as though she wanted to say something, but she could no longer speak either. Once, Aunt had held her on her lap, and there had seemed to be endless things for aunt and niece to say to each other. Yet at the end of this life, they could not exchange even a single word. As she approached death, Aunt tremulously raised her hand. Shaoyin gripped that hand in agony, but Aunt continued reaching upward, as though she wanted to grasp something at the end of her life—something she had never managed to seize. In the end, that hand fell limply and helplessly back down. Only the unwilling fire in her eyes remained unextinguished until death. Ultimately, with Shaoyin’s pleas and Xiao Heng’s permission, Aunt was buried in the Xue family ancestral graveyard. This should not have been what Aunt wanted. Even though she had hated the late emperor deeply and refused to accept defeat, Aunt had surely wished to be buried with the late emperor in the imperial mausoleum—with the bearing of the victor, and in the most exalted identity. But how could worldly affairs always proceed as one wished? On the day Aunt was buried, Shaoyin stood before her grave for a very, very long time. She thought of many things. She thought of how, before taking her own life, Aunt had said that she hated her somewhat—hated that her temperament was too soft, that she had failed to follow Aunt’s arrangements and do everything exactly as she had instructed. Perhaps, at the end of this life, Aunt truly had hated her a little. Even so, Aunt had still loved her. Once she knew that defeat was certain, she had done everything she could before Xiao Heng to distance Shaoyin from the matter and ensure she would be implicated as little as possible. Aunt had even used her own death to take all the blame upon herself. Her final choice of death was not merely because defeat had become inevitable. It may also have been because she had learned the truth about her physical condition from the imperial physicians. Aunt’s head injury had damaged her inner organs and could never truly heal. It would only worsen with time, until one day she lost her reason—just as she had pretended to over the past five or six years. Proud and high-spirited as Aunt was, she would rather die with her mind clear than accept its gradual decline and live out the rest of her life that way. Shaoyin bent down before the grave and burned a bundle of spirit money. Ashes scattered through the flames, like the disorderly affairs of the world, rising into the air before drifting away with the wind. The truth of the past had now been revealed to the world. Prince Chu had requested to leave the capital, intending to study flood control and water conservancy in the provinces. He said that he had wronged his Imperial Older Brother and wronged Daqi, and that he wished to do practical work, benefit the common people, and atone for his mother’s sins. On the day Xiao Yu left the capital, Shaoyin went to the outskirts to see him off. Xiao Heng also came to bid him farewell in plain clothes. Yet at parting, they could only exchange a few simple words of well-wishing. Though the grievances of the previous generation seemed as though they should not extend to them, how could not even the slightest shadow of them fall upon their hearts? At the moment of farewell, Shaoyin gave Xiao Yu a sachet filled with flower seeds. She said, “The climate in Yunzhou, where Your Highness is going, is mild, with abundant water and lush vegetation. Even if you scatter these flower seeds casually in the courtyard outside your rooms, quite a few should bloom when the season comes. Seeing the fresh and beautiful flowers each day when you open the windows may help lighten and broaden your mood.” “Flowers on paper may be beautiful, but the riotous colors visible to the eye, the soft petals one can touch, and the rich fragrance one can smell are things no flowers on paper can completely replace.” Shaoyin continued, “Besides, flowers flourish and wither according to the seasons. Though they may fall today, they will bloom again next year. Year after year, they can keep people company and fill their hearts with hope. Even when one sees the flowers fall, one can still look forward to meeting them again in another year.” Shaoyin handed the sachet of flower seeds to Xiao Yu and said, “I hope that one day, Your Highness will be able to watch the flowers bloom and wither alongside a woman you love. Perhaps lovely children will surround you as well, and there will always be the sound of laughter and joy in your daily life.” Xiao Yu gazed deeply at the woman before him, then finally accepted the sachet. At last, he said, “May I hug you, Sister Xue... Ayin?” Shaoyin was stunned for a moment before opening her arms to Xiao Yu. She and Xiao Yu embraced amid the long winds of late spring. It was the first time in her life they had held each other so intimately, and it was probably the last as well. By her ear, Xiao Yu murmured, “Sister, you must live happily from now on too—just as you did when I first met you. When you smiled then, it was as though the sky itself had cleared, and you had no troubles at all. Sister... you must be like that again.” “...All right. I’ll do my best.” Shaoyin gave a slight nod and said goodbye to Xiao Yu. She then waited nearby and watched as Xiao Yu spoke with Xiao Heng for a while before finally mounting his horse. He was about to travel a thousand miles away. After casting one last look at Shaoyin and Xiao Heng, Xiao Yu raised his whip and urged his horse forward. The carriages and attendants accompanying him gradually receded into the distance, their rising dust slowly dispersing in the wind. Shaoyin brushed back a few strands of hair that had been blown loose and said, “Your Majesty should return.” Xiao Heng gave a soft “Mm,” then turned with her and slowly walked toward the carriages in the direction from which they had come. Since the night before the wedding, Xiao Heng had scarcely spoken to her. It was as though he had said everything he needed to say that night. And it was as though she still had something she wanted to ask him—wanted to ask Xiao Heng why, when he had spoken of her father that night, he had not told her then and there that Aunt had also been at the Qiuyuan Hunting Grounds and had seen her father. Yet perhaps there was no need to ask. Perhaps, deep down, she already understood. He had not told her that night because he wanted the wedding the following day to proceed normally. He had only told her what he and her father had said at the Qiuyuan Hunting Grounds. He had probably feared that, in her uncertainty, she would call off the wedding that night, that the bride would flee the next day and refuse to complete the investiture ceremony with him. And during the wedding, he had calmly waited for the conspiracy to reveal itself instead of extinguishing it all in advance and ensuring that the wedding proceeded smoothly. That was because he knew that, on that day, she was a bride who felt despair in her heart. She did not want the rest of her life to be filled with schemes and calculations, forced to exchange false courtesy with him. He could have used her desire for revenge to keep her trapped at his side for life. Perhaps he had even considered doing so. In the end, however, he had given up that idea and sought only to secure for himself the status of Xue Shaoyin’s husband. Compared with imprisoning her at his side for a lifetime, he perhaps hoped more that she could live freely and at ease, rather than remain forever consumed by hatred and suffering, forever unable to smile sincerely. Thus, he let her learn the entire truth and completely resolved the old matters and hidden dangers. His method of resolving them had left not a trace upon him. Although his wife had lost her aunt and his younger brother had lost his mother, as a husband and as an older brother, he had not personally stained his hands with blood. He had planned everything long ago. In the end, the choice had been left to her. Shaoyin stopped before the carriage and said, “I’m not going back to the palace.” Before leaving the palace, she had already ordered the palace attendants to deliver the Empress’s golden investiture register, seals, and other articles to the Imperial Study, returning them to Xiao Heng. Xiao Heng was therefore not surprised. He stopped beside her and remained silent for a moment before asking, “Are you going home?” Shaoyin said, “I want to stay at home for a while, and then go back to Shuobei for a look. I left in too much of a hurry that time. I want to return and see it again.” Xiao Heng was quiet for another moment before asking, “When do you plan to go to Shuobei? I’ll send people to escort you. I’ll come to see you off then.” “There’s no need,” Shaoyin said. “Your Majesty has many affairs of state to attend to. State matters should come first.” And so they parted. Neither spoke again. It was as though Xiao Heng had said all that needed to be said on the night before the wedding. Since this was ultimately the choice she had made, everything that had happened that night had truly been Xiao Heng’s long farewell to her. After staying at home for more than ten days, Shaoyin set out for Shuobei. Her Older Brother accompanied and protected her, as the Son of Heaven had decreed. Xue Zhan and Xue Yi had never traveled far from home. When they learned that their father would be away for several months, they were reluctant to part with him, yet also wanted to travel with him and see the outside world. After the children’s pleading and coaxing, the entire family ended up embarking together on the journey to Shuobei. On the day of her departure, Shaoyin had originally left a letter for Xiao Heng. But after thinking it over, she ultimately did not send anyone to deliver it to the palace. Instead, she silently placed the written pages over a flame and watched them burn. There were many things she did not say, and Xiao Heng understood them as well. Yet understanding something and being able to do something about it seemed to be two different matters. But she was helpless too. She could not even unravel her own grief, so how could she console someone else? Perhaps many things in this world could only be left to time in the end. On the day she left the capital, her Older Brother and Sister-in-law rode in one carriage, while Shaoyin traveled with her nephew and niece in another. Inside the carriage, she taught the two children how to play with a loop of string, just as her father and Aunt had once taught her. From beginning to end, she never lifted the curtain to glance back at the tall city towers behind them. The reigning emperor was now a truly lonely man. Consort Shu Jiang had long ago been deposed and reduced to commoner status for attempting to harm the Empress. As for the other consorts of the Imperial Harem, His Majesty had done something unprecedented, an astonishing break with tradition: he had dismissed them all from the palace and permitted them to marry as they wished. And Her Majesty the Empress had returned the golden investiture register and other articles before choosing to leave. Cheng An, the attendant, stood behind His Majesty and watched as the carriage carrying Empress Xue, traveling in plain clothes, grew farther and farther away. His Majesty stood leaning against the railing, gazing into the distance, his back seeming infinitely lonely. It was as though he could only spend the rest of his life in regret, alone on one desolate night after another, turning over the affairs of the past and bitterly repenting what he had done, yet forever unable to change the past or return to what had once been. Xiao Heng thought that this was likely how his entire life would be. Every opportunity he had once possessed had slipped through his fingers like flowing water because he had refused to cherish it. When the last opportunity had seemed within his grasp, he had been able only to let it go. She had made her choice, while he had no choice left. From the day he discovered that he loved her, he had never had a choice again. It seemed that he could only have regret as his companion for the rest of his life. Perhaps one day she would look back. Perhaps that day would never come. All he could do was wait, day after day, waiting one-sidedly in his identity as Xue Shaoyin’s husband. He had once been able to possess everything with ease. Now, after calculating every possibility, he had managed to secure only a title for himself. Regardless, he and she had bowed before Heaven and Earth. He was also... her husband. That was all that could remain for the rest of his life.