Chapter 5

Chapter 5: He Had Kept Her at a Distance for More Than a Decade Shaoyin’s sincere oath seemed only to enrage the sovereign further. She prostrated herself on the floor. From the corner of her eye, she saw Xiao Heng’s black boots, embroidered with dragon patterns, as though they had sunk into deep mud, standing rigidly in place. The silence in the room was like a bowstring drawn taut against Shaoyin’s throat. Terrified, she lowered her head even more humbly and said with great care, “Please, Your Majesty… believe me…” After she said this, Xiao Heng remained stiff for a long while before suddenly flicking his sleeves and leaving, as though he had endured as much as he could and was unwilling to hear another word from her. Still prostrated on the ground, Shaoyin heard only the sound of Xiao Heng slamming the door as he strode away. She heard his footsteps quicken, and the sharp flutter of his sleeves as they caught the fierce, cold wind outside. Gradually, the only sound left in Nuanxiang Studio was the occasional soft crackle of the charcoal that had yet to burn out in the copper brazier on the floor. All the palace attendants had left with the imperial carriage, including Jinde, the eunuch who had brought her into the palace. Shaoyin silently rose and placed the imperial handkerchief she had used on the small table inside the studio. After yesterday, she had angered Xiao Heng once again today, for reasons she still did not understand. As Emperor, Xiao Heng seemed to have become much more hot-tempered than he had been in the past. She had never seen Xiao Heng lose his temper before. That dignified, aloof Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace had seemed like a mountain of jade, forever tranquil at heart, never revealing either joy or anger. The one who had always been quick to anger was Xue Shaoyin. She would often become upset over the smallest things, sometimes even crying in frustration, while Xiao Heng remained calm and indifferent. It was as though even if she cried until the sky collapsed, she would still be unable to stir the slightest ripple in his heart. Now, it seemed that everything had been turned upside down. She could not understand matters no matter how bewildered she was, and fear would do her no good either. Since Xiao Heng had not punished her on the spot, Shaoyin quietly left the palace alone after the imperial carriage departed and rode home. When Shaoyin arrived home, her Older Brother, who had just finished work at the government office, happened to arrive at the gate in his carriage as well. The siblings supported each other as they went to the study to talk, and Shaoyin told him about Aunt’s current condition in Chongqing Palace. As for her encounter with Xiao Heng in the palace, and the way he had seemed to fly into a rage, Shaoyin did not tell her Older Brother a word of it, lest he worry about her. After listening to her, Xue Ming remained silent for a long while before sighing softly. “Aunt has always been proud and unwilling to suffer the slightest humiliation. If she remained conscious while being imprisoned for life, who knows how much she would suffer? Being unable to remember anything… perhaps… perhaps it isn’t necessarily a bad thing…” Shaoyin was saddened, but she knew there was some truth to what her Older Brother had said. As she sat silently, she heard him ask softly, “Ayin, can you forget… everything about Shuobei?” Shaoyin raised her head in astonishment. She saw that pain seemed to knot Xue Ming’s brows, while his gaze was filled with guilt and pity. Xue Ming said, “Last night, you told me that you had lived very well in Shuobei, and that your relationship with the Heir Prince Helan had been very good. After hearing that, I didn’t know whether I should be happy or sad.” “I hope everything you said last night was true. I hope that you really lived well during those five years in Shuobei, that you and the Heir Prince Helan loved each other as husband and wife. But I also… also seem to hope that you were only trying to comfort me, that your words weren’t entirely true, that your feelings for the Heir Prince Helan weren’t truly so deep…” “Ayin, I remember that when you were little, you would be heartbroken for a long, long time even when you couldn’t keep a sparrow you had found alive. If everything you said was true…” Xue Ming’s heart ached terribly for his sister, and his voice became choked with emotion. “…how much pain must you be carrying in your heart? If only you could forget everything that hurt…” Shaoyin rose and gently embraced half of her Older Brother’s body. “I won’t forget. Although there were things that made me sad, there were also many things that brought me happiness. Wouldn’t it be a pity to forget all those happy memories along with everything else?” Shaoyin smiled as she comforted him. “Older Brother, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’ve grown up already. I’m not the child I used to be, unable to withstand the slightest setback.” Then she added teasingly, “Older Brother, you absolutely mustn’t let your eyes turn red. Otherwise, when we go to dinner later and A-Zhan and A-Yi see you, they’ll start wondering whether Father was actually a rabbit in disguise.” That teasing remark carried the mischievous spirit of the younger sister she had once been. Perhaps his sister… was much stronger than he had imagined. To keep his sister from worrying about this useless Older Brother of hers in turn, Xue Ming could only stop there. He forcibly suppressed the concern in his heart, and after sitting in the study a while longer, he went with his sister to the family hall, where they ate with his wife and children. After dinner, they returned to the sleeping quarters. Shaoyin told her maidservant to go and rest, then sat alone beneath the window for a long while. Although it was deep into the night, she found it difficult to sleep. Every night since Helan’s death, she had been forced to sit until well into the night, waiting until her body was utterly exhausted before she could retire to bed. The things she had said to her Older Brother in the study at dusk had not been lies. She did not want to forget all the people and events of Shuobei. Although there had been sorrow, there had also been much warmth and happiness. She did not want to forget those things. She wanted to remember every one of them clearly. What she had not told her Older Brother was that no matter how much warmth and happiness those five years had contained, they seemed unable to outweigh the suffering at the end. Helan’s death was like a ceaselessly surging river, washing away all the beauty of the past beneath its merciless waves. Every moment of warmth and happiness had sunk to the bottom of that river. Only the pain of losing the person she loved most continued to rage forever in her heart. Shaoyin walked to the depths of the sleeping quarters and opened the ebony chest she had brought back from Shuobei. She lifted out the black cloak inside and held it in her arms, as though embracing her husband—Muyan Helan. The bloodstains that had soaked into the black cloak had long since darkened and rusted to the same color as the cloth. Before her husband died, he had vomited blood onto this cloak. At the time, the large patches of bright-red blood had seemed to dye her eyes red. She had desperately reached out toward her husband, only to be led from the tent by the attendants. She had been unable to remain with the husband she loved until the end of their mortal bond. From the first moment he met her, her husband, Muyan Helan, had treated her with extraordinary tenderness. Only when he was gravely ill and nearing death had he been so cruel to her. Before Helan died, he ordered people to take her away. He would not let her remain at his side. At that time, the only thing she had been able to hold onto was this bloodstained black cloak. Clutching it tightly, she had walked outside the tent for half the night, begging Eternal Heaven, whom the people of Shuobei worshipped, to grant Helan a little more time. Yet before dawn, she still heard the sound of weeping from within the tent. And she, Helan’s wife in this life, had not only been unable to stay by his side when he passed away—she had not even seen him one last time before his cremation. She knew that this had been Helan’s final wish. He could not bear to let her see him breathe his last, or watch his body turn to ashes. He wanted her to let go. He was afraid she would never be able to move on. Yet even though Helan had considered her in every way before his death, she seemed… still unable to move on. In reality, she had not been able to see Helan’s face after his death. But in her dreams, she saw it again and again. Night after night, she dreamed of Helan lying quietly beside Shuobei’s Qinglan River. Beneath him was Shuobei’s fragrant wood, and bundles of Shuobei flowers and grasses were entwined around his body. Helan lay peacefully at the center of them, quiet… as though he were asleep. In her dreams, she lay beside her silent husband, just as she had once held him in their sleeping tent, singing Shuobei songs softly into his ear. One verse after another—all songs Helan had once taught her beneath Shuobei’s boundless starry sky, beside the warm bonfires late at night. She sang and sang, as though she meant to sing her voice hoarse, yet she could never awaken her husband from his sleep. She could only watch helplessly as flames suddenly rose over Helan’s body, mercilessly devouring his form and face. She could not move on, but Helan wanted her to let go. And so she had not lingered in Shuobei. Just as Helan had arranged while he was alive, she had set out for her homeland after his death and returned to the family who loved her. Before others, she could face her husband’s death calmly, just as Helan and her Older Brother and Sister-in-law had hoped she would. She was sorrowful, but not so consumed by grief that she could not go on. Yet when night fell and she was alone, the sorrow she had forcibly suppressed during the day would flood over her like the tide. Unable to bear it, she could only clutch her husband’s belongings and silently endure, silently yearn for him. She missed him so much. She missed him terribly. Shaoyin did not sleep well that night either. In her dreams, there seemed to be weeping and firelight. When she awoke the following morning, she had only just opened her eyes when she felt somewhat light-headed. Although she felt slightly unwell, Shaoyin very much wanted to make a trip to Puan Temple. She forced herself to gather her spirits, washed and changed as usual, ate a little breakfast, and prepared to set out with her Sister-in-law. However, another complication arose just as they were about to leave. Someone suddenly arrived from her Sister-in-law’s family home, saying that one of her aunts had suddenly fallen so ill that she was bedridden. Her Sister-in-law had no choice but to apologize to Shaoyin, order the carriage to turn around, and hurry over with her two children to pay a visit. Shaoyin then set out for Puan Temple alone, taking only a coachman and a maidservant with her. After arriving at Puan Temple, Shaoyin lit incense before the Buddha, pressed her palms together, and prayed devoutly for a very long time. Her heart held too many people and too many things. She prayed for her Older Brother and Sister-in-law to remain safe and well. She prayed that her nephew, A-Zhan, and her niece, A-Yi, would grow up healthy and strong. She prayed that Aunt, deep within the palace, might one day receive the mercy of Heaven, leave that prison, return to her family, and live out the rest of her life in peace. At last, Shaoyin silently prayed for her deceased husband and for the child of theirs who had never come into this world. Because her eyes had remained lowered as she prayed with wholehearted concentration, she failed to notice the people coming and going around her. It was not until a low voice suddenly sounded beside her that she heard someone ask, “What are you praying for?” The voice was far too familiar. Shaoyin’s heart gave a sudden jolt. She hurriedly raised her eyes and saw that it truly was Xiao Heng speaking. The worshipers around them continued to bustle back and forth, while Xiao Heng stood quietly beside her, dressed like an ordinary young gentleman from a prominent family. He seemed to have come here in disguise. …But why had he come here in disguise? The capital was so vast. How could it be such a coincidence that Xiao Heng had happened to come to this very Puan Temple in disguise? To this very Buddhist hall inside the temple? To the very Buddha statue before which she had been praying so earnestly? Shaoyin was already utterly stunned. Remembering that she had angered Xiao Heng once again in the palace yesterday, she was so frightened that she could not speak for a moment. Xiao Heng patiently asked again, “What are you praying for?” “I… I…” Remembering what she had said in the Imperial Study, Shaoyin replied, “…I’m praying for Your Majesty, praying that Your Majesty’s health will remain safe and that everything will go according to your wishes…” Seeing that Xiao Heng’s expression seemed reasonably calm, Shaoyin steadied herself and continued, “I’m praying that Your Majesty and Consort Shu will love each other dearly…” Before she could finish, she saw Xiao Heng’s expression turn cold. Shaoyin did not know why, but she quickly cut herself off and bit her lip in silence. She waited for the Son of Heaven’s anger to descend upon her once again. Yet after remaining cold for a moment, Xiao Heng’s face forcibly softened. Even so, the change in his expression seemed unnatural to Shaoyin. Xiao Heng gave a light cough. His voice, usually cold and low, seemed to grow light and airy amid the drifting incense smoke in the Buddhist hall. There was something slightly unnatural about it. “…The first part was enough,” he said. “That was very good.” Yesterday, in Nuanxiang Studio, Xue Shaoyin had acted as though if he did not believe she was faithful to Muyan Helan, she would keep kowtowing there without ever raising her head. How could Xiao Heng possibly believe Xue Shaoyin’s lies? He had left almost frantic with anger. All the way back, rage had churned in his heart, and a violent restlessness had crashed through him as though it meant to tear his heart apart. Why was he angry? Was it because Xue Shaoyin truly loved Muyan Helan? The thought had only just risen from the depths of Xiao Heng’s heart like a sharp thorn when it was crushed beneath an even more turbulent wave of agitation. That was impossible. Xue Shaoyin had no feelings for Muyan Helan. The past five years had merely been an act of self-deception. He had already confirmed this. He was angry… because… because Xue Shaoyin had failed to understand his hints, because she was still lying to him, because, in order to make her lie seem convincing, she had even recklessly sworn a poisonous oath! Even if it had all been nonsense, could one treat the act of swearing an oath so carelessly?! Matters concerning ghosts and gods might be difficult to explain, but one would rather believe they existed than not. How could she make such a frivolous joke of them, saying things like “struck by lightning” and “die a horrible death”? Xiao Heng paced back and forth in Zichen Palace. After being angry with Xue Shaoyin for a long while, he grew angry with himself as well. When he had left Nuanxiang Studio, he had been both helpless and irritated. He had walked too quickly and forgotten to instruct the palace attendants to send Xue Shaoyin a cloak against the cold and a hand warmer. She had been wearing so little. He wondered whether she would get cold on the way out of the palace, catch a chill, and fall ill. Xiao Heng was so troubled by all these matters that he could not settle his mind, and he slept poorly throughout the night. The next day, when there happened to be no court session, he left the palace in disguise at daybreak to look for Xue Shaoyin. Yesterday’s matter should not have been blamed on Xue Shaoyin. His hints had simply not been clear enough. He had kept her at a distance for more than a decade. How could a few words and hints now make Xue Shaoyin believe that he had her in his heart, and dare her to tell him what she truly felt? They could take things slowly. They had plenty of time now. There was no longer anyone or anything standing between him and Xue Shaoyin. Author’s Note: None Close