Lu Lingzhang put down his brush, slid the inkstone paperweight aside, lifted the sheet of raw xuan paper on which he had been copying the [Yi Ying Stele], blew lightly across it, then handed it to Xie Jing, who was writing rapidly at the other end of the desk, and said, “Please take a look, Imperial Sister-in-law.”
Although the marriage rites had not yet been completed, Xie Jing had fully accepted this form of address. Lu Lingzhang’s manner of address carried none of Xiao Yao’s teasing tone, nor the innocent sweetness of Lu Lingzhen’s. It was solemn and restrained, a dutiful, etiquette-proper way of addressing a “family member” who was neither close nor distant.
Xie Jing set aside the old text he was transcribing, took the copybook and examined it closely, then looked up with a smile. “The rounded corners are well balanced and capture the essence perfectly. Your Highness has been diligent lately, and it truly shows.”
Lu Lingzhang was the same age as Xie Jing’s nephew, Xie Jun, yet his temperament was far steadier and more composed than the latter’s. No matter how much or little Xie Jing lectured, he absorbed everything. When told to practice calligraphy, he was able to steady his breath and focus, sitting quietly at the desk for an entire afternoon.
Xie Jing remembered Lu Lingcong mentioning to him that night at the Mount Tang Manor that the child was young and timid, and the empress wished him to be successful, so he should not push Lu Lingzhang’s studies too hard.
He took heed but didn’t dare to ease the pressure too obviously, fearing the empress might fault him. Thus, he devoted more time to talking and engaging Lu Lingzhang in conversation, cutting down on the hours spent poring over texts. By the end of the half-day, he had spoken more than he ordinarily would in three full days, leaving his throat parched.
The setting sun sank toward the west; crimson clouds seeming to scorch the eaves. It was nearly time for the evening meal, and the day’s lesson should have ended long before.
Seeing Lu Lingzhang wholly absorbed, Xie Jing had not disturbed him. Now he finished the last sip of his cold Biluo Chun, rose to his feet, bowed, and said, “This minister will take his leave and return tomorrow. May Your Highness rest well.”
Lu Lingzhang returned a respectful bow and said composedly, “I will escort Imperial Sister-in-law out.”
Perhaps because they had indeed delayed for too long, as Xie Jing walked out of the study, he ran straight into Empress Wang, who was coming from the inner hall.
Although he had been frequently entering and exiting Linhai Hall these past days, he had only seen her briefly on the first day. She possessed the full dignity of the Empress, stern yet naturally awe-inspiring. Upon seeing Xie Jing, she did not engage in casual conversation or treat him as her future daughter-in-law-by-marriage but merely said plainly, “Thank you for your effort, Minister Xie,” and then walked gracefully away.
However, she was genuinely concerned about her only son’s studies. Lu Lingzhang had mentioned that his mother would take the papers he used every day and inspect them carefully.
Xie Jing knelt down while the Empress stood where she was, scrutinizing him, and asked, “It seems classes ended later today,” but she did not raise her hand to excuse the courtesy, only letting him kneel while replying.
“His Highness the Second Prince is diligent in his studies, and this minister naturally strives to impart all that he knows.” Xie Jing was also a bit tired. He suppressed the urge to yawn and responded carefully.
The empress coughed and slowly said, “He has indeed made quite some progress recently. Minister Xie, you have been dedicated.”
Her tone was utterly flat and placid; it was impossible to discern either praise or censure.
Xie Jing secretly let out a breath and organized his language in his mind, ready to give a formal response like, “Niangniang praises unduly; His Highness is inherently intelligent, and this minister is merely fulfilling my duty.” But then he heard the Empress speak again, softly and deeply:
“It is just that from now on, whoever caused you to use this dedication, you must apply your dedication back to them. Remember,” she lowered her head and looked at Xie Jing with her pair of deep phoenix-like eyes. “The master of Linhai Hall is Bengong[mfn]I, used by imperial consort or empress.[/mfn].”
A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on Xie Jing’s back—the empress knew. Other than a simple “Yes,” he dared not answer anything more.
The pair of light-brown beaded slippers in front of him had only moved half a step when a slightly old and slow male voice came from outside the hall: “It’s pitch black; why aren’t the lamps lit?”
Xie Jing thought to himself that he truly should have checked the almanac today; he had clearly run into a bad omen. If he had known, he should have requested leave and steered clear of the palace.
The emperor entered the hall, and at once the palace servants carrying lamps followed in, flooding the entire room with brilliant light. He stepped forward a few paces and saw Xie Jing, whose figure was partly hidden by the half-closed door, and asked once more, “Is someone still kneeling?”
The Empress and Lu Lingzhang had already gone forward to greet him. Xie Jing could only maintain his kneeling posture, using his knees as pivots to turn around at the fastest speed and with the most decorous movements, bowing his head to pay his respects.
The emperor said, “Oh,” and lightly stated, “You are the Xie family’s child, Zhen[mfn]I, used by the emperor.[/mfn] remembers now. Rise.”
As Xie Jing rose, he thought, ‘So your esteemed self didn’t have much of a profound impression of me. Why then did I have to be the one chosen for the imperial marriage?’
Then he slightly raised his head, avoiding looking directly at the emperor’s face, and his gaze met the person who walked in from the twilight behind the emperor.
He saw the “who” the empress had just spoken of the person who held Xie Jing’s dedication, stood still and spoke plainly: “Greetings to Empress Mother.”
Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing’s eyes met. He seemed slightly surprised but said nothing, only giving a nod of acknowledgment.
He wore a dark blue, round-collared military robe with arrow sleeves and a dagger belt. The corners of his garment were somewhat dusty and wrinkled, clearly indicating he had been reluctantly brought to this occasion at the last minute.
As expected, once the four members of the imperial family were seated, the emperor immediately said, “It has been a long time since Zhen saw Zifeng. Today, Zhen happened to run into him coming out of Noble Consort’s residence, so Zhen brought him here for supper.”
The empress agreed gracefully, showing none of the indifference she had displayed when reprimanding Xie Jing, and diligently instructed the palace servants to begin the meal service.
Seeing the Emperor turn to speak with Lu Lingzhang and realizing no one in the hall was paying him attention for the moment, Xie Jing subtly backed up two steps, intending to quietly excuse himself and quickly make his escape.
Unexpectedly, the Emperor suddenly turned his head and said, “It’s late. The Xie family’s child should also stay and eat. Zhong Zhao, add a set of bowls and chopsticks for him below Zifeng.”
Xie Jing was close to tears but could only express his gratitude to the emperor for the favor.
Walking to the table, he saw that the newly added round stool was quite far from the table. Bending down to lift and move it was against court etiquette and pushing it directly with his foot would create a noticeable sound.
Just as he resolved to sit with a “what-the-hell” attitude, Lu Lingcong’s hand slipped beneath the table, grasped the perforated edge of the round stool, lifted it slightly, moved it forward about a foot, and gently set it down without making a sound.
Xie Jing exhaled quietly in relief, took his seat, and gently tapped Lu Lingcong’s leg twice with his knee in a silent gesture of thanks.
The emperor was getting on in years and only touched a few bites of each dish. He told his two sons to eat freely, but neither dared to take many bites.
He then sent away the palace servants who were serving the dishes, finding their presence nearby bothersome. Consequently, the maid who could have reached the dish at the other end of the table and served it to Xie Jing retreated, leaving him to sigh wistfully at the plate of drunken crab farthest from him.
It had only been a few days since the Mid-Autumn Festival, which was the best time for eating crab. When Xie Jing left home before noon, he ran into Chef Zhao and specifically told him to be sure to return early, as he was making crab roe noodles for his supper.
The emperor then said to him unhurriedly, “There’s no need to be constrained. There will be many more times in the future when the family eats together at the same table.”
Xie Jing froze. He had been careless, so the old man really did remember that he’d handed himself over to Lu Lingcong in that matter.
After they had eaten for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, the emperor was the first to rise from the table and move to a side hall to drink tea. Lu Lingcong saw that he was tired and intended to rest in Linhai Hall, so he stood up, excused himself by saying that his younger sister was still at the mansion, and he needed to return early to look after her. The emperor simply waved a hand lazily, allowing him to leave.
Lu Lingcong took the palace lantern handed to him by the attendant Zhong Zhao, patted Lu Lingzhang’s head to bid farewell, and then quickly glanced at Xie Jing. The latter understood, hurriedly paid his respects, and rushed out as well.
The moment they stepped out of the hall doors, the two exchanged a look, both deeply exhaled in unison, and their steps quickened slightly.
The carriage of Prince Zhao’s Mansion was parked nearby in the middle of Yongxiang Lane. Lu Lingcong asked, “Want a ride?”
Xie Jing was rubbing his sore neck. Hearing this, he looked at him warily and shook his head.
Lu Lingcong laughed and said, “Rest completely easy, since I don’t have the nerve to step through the gates of your noble residence, I’ll just deliver you to the Gongche Gate.”
After dark, the Xie’s Mansion’s carriage could only wait outside the palace gate. Although not too far, it would still take some effort to walk there. Xie Jing considered for a moment, then nodded before agreeing, “I appreciate the trouble.”
Lu Lingcong let him board the carriage first. As soon as Xie Jing entered and set down the palace lantern, he spotted two exquisite ice-crackle-pattern porcelain jars on a small brocade box on the carriage table and raised an eyebrow with a surprised “Yo”: “Does Your Highness even use rouge?”
“Zhenzhen has been staying at the mansion these days. My mother thinks the rouge paste made outside is unclean and insisted I take some from the palace for her.” Lu Lingcong followed him, stepping up briskly, lifting his robe, and sitting down. “It’s all useless; that girl is running wild and disheveled now, she won’t touch this stuff at all.”
After speaking, he casually reached for the food box placed in the corner and removed the lid, and a faint sweet fragrance immediately diffused inside the carriage. He took out a small, white-glazed plate and handed it to Xie Jing: “You didn’t eat enough, right?”
Xie Jing was stunned. He lowered his eyes to look only to find several pieces of osmanthus almond tofu. The bright yellow and snowy white reflected each other, displaying the full color and flavor of early autumn in Jinling on the plate.
“You made this too?” He hesitated before taking it and asking.
Lu Lingcong nodded and picked up a piece for himself: “It was for my mother. I made too much and didn’t finish it, so these are the leftovers.”
Xie Jing took a bite. For a palate accustomed to northern cuisine, it was slightly sweet but not overly cloying. This was the second time he had tasted food made by Lu Lingcong. Although it wasn’t perfectly to his liking, he had to admit that he had excellent cooking skills.
He then said, “Thank you for tonight.”
Lu Lingcong waved his hand but asked, “When Emperor Father and I entered, what were you kneeling for? You also seemed very constrained during the meal.”
Xie Jing hadn’t expected him to have noticed. After thinking for a moment, he still decided not to tell him about the earlier incident.
After all, he was genuinely trying to do what was best for Lu Lingzhang. He hadn’t deliberately spoken nonsense or misled the student, nor had he significantly reduced the workload; he had merely changed the format. The Empress couldn’t actually punish him. Her outburst today was likely more about asserting authority—she simply wanted Xie Jing to obey her, regardless of whether her words were right or wrong.
Thus, Xie Jing carefully chose his words and said, “It was nothing, just answering a question. I just feel that the Empress… doesn’t particularly like me.”
“She definitely doesn’t like you,” Lu Lingcong said definitively, with an expression that suggested, ‘You even had to ask?’ “You are too sharp-witted. Empress Mother dislikes clever people the most.”
“Oh,” Xie Jing nodded, “I see.”
He put the remaining small piece of almond tofu into his mouth, chewed it meticulously, and then asked, “Does Noble Consort Wu like clever people?”
This time, Lu Lingcong burst into laughter, and only after being amused for quite a while did he say, “She can’t distinguish between clever and foolish people. What she values most is appearance.”
Seeing him laugh heartily, Xie Jing paused, then shifted his gaze, lifted the small side curtain, and looked back at Linhai Hall in the night. The last glow of twilight on the horizon outlined the double-eaved hipped roof; it stood silent and solemn, like a grave and magnificent mausoleum.
In that instant, Empress Wang’s eccentricities, brooding nature, and taciturnity all seemed to have a source.
Xie Jing suddenly realized that if one day the young man sitting beside him ascended the throne, the master of Linhai Hall would be himself. As a result, he might have to share Lu Lingcong with many others, and his own children would likewise have to share their father with many others.
If that time ever came, he thought, how much more magnanimous could he, as the empress, be compared to Empress Wang?
The carriage rocked gently as it moved further and further away. Xie Jing drew the curtain down, rested his hands on his lap, and stared blankly at the gauze covering the palace lantern. Lu Lingcong remained silent as well, lost in his own thoughts.
Silence reigned between them for a long time until they heard the command for the changing of the guards at the palace carriage gate, and the coachman called out “Whoa” to stop the carriage. Xie Jing finally moved.
He lifted the lid of a porcelain jar, dipped his little finger into the vivid rouge, caught Lu Lingcong’s sleeve in his astonished gaze, pulled out a section of the white lining, and swiftly inscribed a few tiny characters on it with his fingertip.
Then he suddenly let go, smiled faintly, lifted the carriage curtain, and gracefully left.
