Xie Jing had finished washing up and returned to the bedroom from the west annex room. The “guest” behind the screen had already left, and the lights in the main hall were extinguished. Only a pair of wedding candles, which according to the old custom must burn for a full three days, were still lit.
Lu Lingcong was already on the bed, propped against the headboard while tinkering with a small silver device resembling a knuckle duster. When he heard Xie Jing enter, he paused, lifted his head, and watched as Xie Jing moved to the dressing table, loosened and combed his hair, removed his outer robe to change into sleepwear, poured a cup of tea and took two sips, then finally turned and walked toward the bed.
He hadn’t had time to pull back his gaze and could only slightly avert his eyes to conceal it, unsure if he should be the one to break the silence first and opened his mouth but also hesitated to speak.
Xie Jing untied the curtain at the foot of the bed and crawled on his knees to slip inside.
There were actually two sets of bedding on the bed, but after their night of intimacy, when Lu Lingcong had carried Xie Jing back, using separate covers now would feel awkward and overly deliberate; thus, at this very moment, one quilt was neatly folded at the foot of the bed.
He then grabbed the corner of the quilt and spread it out before sliding the one they’d used last night toward Lu Lingcong’s side, so there was about half the space between them. He lay on his side, draped the quilt over his shoulder, closed his eyes, and remained still.
Lu Lingcong watched him carry out the movements smoothly and without hesitation, leaving him momentarily speechless and slightly bewildered.
Although his abrupt departure that afternoon had been somewhat rude, half a day had passed, so a brief, casual exchange of pleasantries should be fine. Was it necessary to draw such a clear boundary without even a sidelong glance? Could it be that he was holding an overnight grudge?
But no matter how one put it, he was in the wrong. How could Young Master Xie be wrong? The top scholar would never be wrong.
So, Lu Lingcong turned over and fanned out the candle flame, fumbled in the dark to weigh the object in his hand before tossing it onto the table with a soft “da” sound. At the same time, the half-curtain at the head of the bed fell down.
He lay down, elbowed Xie Jing’s back, landing squarely on his shoulder blade, and recalled the feeling from last night, “Did I upset you again?”
Xie Jing neither made a sound nor moved.
“Can you tell me why you’re angry?”
Xie Jing intensely disliked people who never said what they meant and expected others to guess, and under normal circumstances, he truly wouldn’t want to be that kind of person either.
But helplessly, he simply couldn’t bring himself to say those things to Lu Lingcong; he couldn’t tell him, “I heard you talking about me with someone else,” nor could he say, “I heard someone advise you not to have children with me.” What right or position did he have to interfere with Lu Lingcong’s decision or pry into Lu Lingcong’s thoughts?
Therefore, Xie Jing had even less way to ask Lu Lingcong what his final answer was.
In fact, regardless of whether the answer was affirmative or negative, that long and awkward silence between the question and the answer had already indicated certain things.
“Don’t tell me you’re not angry, it’s too unconvincing. You’re quite expressive of your emotions in front of me.”
Reasoning was of no use, Xie Jing didn’t respond, so Lu Lingcong had to try a softer approach: “May I hold you while we sleep?”
He had asked the question pointlessly; no matter Xie Jing’s reaction, it didn’t stop him from turning over, lifting the bedding, and wrapping his arms around Xie Jing’s waist from behind at all.
Xie Jing didn’t struggle or resist; after a moment, he spoke in a clear, cool voice, “Are you like this with your brothers too?”
Lu Lingcong was stunned for a moment: “Sometimes when we get drunk and sleep in an inn, we end up lying all over the place and might casually drape an arm over someone. That happens too, but that’s all. We don’t do that kind of thing.”
Xie Jing let out a soft scoff: “What kind of brothers would you guys be then after doing that?”
There was silence behind him for a while, Lu Lingcong must have thought it over before saying, “You are different from them.”
But exactly how he was different, or what the nature of the difference was; he did not elaborate.
This was what Lu Lingcong meant last night by “once the arrow is shot, there is no turning back”. They had consummated the marriage, giving themselves fully to each other, so they couldn’t be called brothers, friends, or mere acquaintances; but they weren’t lovers whose hearts were intertwined either. So then, what were they?
Xie Jing knew in his heart that he had brought this upon himself. Lu Lingcong had asked for his opinion beforehand, and he had personally agreed to it, so turning around the next day and being troubled by his own muddled decision was entirely deserved.
He was a bit tired; the hardship of first receiving intimacy, combined with the early rising, and then concentrating on the account books all afternoon, truly left him physically and mentally exhausted.
So, Xie Jing ignored Lu Lingcong’s hand on his waist, and the warmth pressed against him, closed his eyes, and soon fell asleep.
The next day, Xie Jing did not give the parrot a chance to wake him up rudely again but rose early to wash up, changed into his court robes, left the bedroom, and added food for Lu Ai.
When he woke up, Lu Lingcong was still maintaining the position of holding him, but Xie Jing did not deliberately control the extent of his movement when getting up—even if he controlled it, he couldn’t control Lu Lingcong’s sensitive awareness either.
Xie Jing knew he must have been woken up by him, but since the other party didn’t make a sound or open his eyes, he didn’t pay any further attention.
After Lu Ai was full, she stopped swearing and began to chirp and coo.
Xie Jing still missed the small courtyard at his family’s home, shaded by trees, where he could hear flocks of birds singing on summer mornings, helping to chase away the heat.
He stretched out his hand. Lu Ai tilted her head to study it for a moment, then quickly hopped over and pecked his palm clumsily and without any caution.
Seeing that Xie Jing neither dodged nor was afraid, Lu Ai then dramatically flapped her wings with a hoo-la-la sound and then flew to stand on Xie Jing’s raised forearm like a huge, fluffy mass. When Xie Jing scratched her beak with his fingertip, she even closed her eyes in enjoyment.
The fine feathers on her belly were both light and soft, Xie Jing pressed his face against them and rubbed, feeling very satisfied: “You’re so much more lovable when you don’t open your mouth.”
Immediately, he half-supported, half-cradled Lu Ai, strolling casually all the way through the covered walkway.
Xie Jing got up too early, and the sweeping servants hadn’t finished their work yet; seeing him pass the flower hall and about to salute, Xie Jing quickly shook his head and said, “No need”, before turned his steps back to the covered walkway, stood in front of the fan-shaped pierced window, bowed slightly, and looked at the lake and mountain scenery on the other side.
He had long heard that the gardens of the Prince Zhao’s Mansion were the work of a master, that the Wu family had spent a fortune building them, using only the finest materials and selections, a true marvel of the capital, on par with the renowned gardens of Jiangnan.
When dukes and marquises went on outings or nobles held banquets, they often asked His Highness Prince Zhao to lend them the garden as a favor. Lu Lingcong, who was generous and fond of lively gatherings, was always happy to oblige and even served as a part-time host.
Xie Jing had no opportunity to see it before; after all, the nobles hosting banquets here, out of consideration for the awkward relationship between him and Lu Lingcong, would not be so tactless as to invite the Xie family to attend.
But even though he was now nominally the other owner of this garden, the situation was fundamentally no different, and for him to walk around the garden by himself would still feel presumptuous.
After gazing longingly for a while, just as he was about to turn around, he suddenly heard two exclamations from the courtyard: “Oh no, Your Highness, Lu Ai is missing! Lu Ai is missing again!”
Following an immediate whistle blew through the air, and a pair of fan-like wings smeared feathers all over Xie Jing’s face. With a few powerful struggles, Lu Ai flew away from his arms without mercy, crossing half the courtyard and landing on Lu Lingcong’s shoulder, who had just stepped out of the bedroom.
“Don’t worry, she’s not lost,” Lu Lingcong calmly said to the panicked maid. “She was just temporarily being an ingrate for a little while.”
Xie Jing was thus mercilessly abandoned in place by the parrot and feeling very displeased. He turned around, squinted his eyes against the morning sunlight, and stared at the two people and one bird over there.
Upon seeing her rightful master, Lu Ai, like someone thrilled in a crowd, joyfully shouted her eight-character mantra once more; Lu Lingcong reached out and returned her to the gold wire stand, and said thoughtfully, “It’s always this one phrase all day long… it truly offends one’s refined hearing.”
He looked at the maid, “What should I teach her in order to change the phrase?”
Without waiting for an answer, he continued on his own: “How about teaching her, ‘Princess Consort, Princess Consort, kind-hearted and beautiful’?”
The maid was clearly the same one who had come to feed the bird yesterday morning; she choked at the words, dared not look at the silent Xie Jing across the way, and stiffly said, “What Your Highness says is absolutely correct, if we don’t teach her to be grateful for the Princess Consort’s virtue, she will surely become even more unruly and outrageous in the future, tearing down the roof tiles and becoming completely improper…”
Lu Lingcong was very pleased and turned to the parrot, “Come, learn after me, Princess Consort, Princess Consort! Kind-hearted and beautiful!”
Lu Ai: “Audacious slave! Why don’t you get on your knees!”
Lu Lingcong was very patient as he taught her again, “It is Princess Consort, Princess Consort—Kind-hearted and beautiful—”
Lu Ai: “Princess Consort, Princess Consort—Kind-hearted and beautiful—”
Lu Lingcong clapped his hands while encouraging her, “So smart! One more time!”
Lu Ai: “Audacious slave—kind-hearted and beautiful—Princess Consort, Princess Consort—why don’t you get on your knees—”
The kind-hearted and beautiful Princess Consort flicked his sleeve and left without looking back.
The Yu-cuisine chef that Lu Lingcong had previously mentioned hiring had not yet arrived; on the breakfast table were crab roe steamed buns and osmanthus sugar taro shoots. Xie Jing took a small bite, but the sweetness was cloying enough to make him choke. His appetite faded at once; he set down his chopsticks and, in the end, only managed to drink half a bowl of congee.
The tenth day was the customary return visit to the bride’s family, so the arrangements from the previous day were repeated once more; after the meal, a carriage escorted them back to the Xie family residence.
The Prince’s Mansion was only a few streets away from Wuyi Lane, and there was no need for Xie Jing to lean on Lu Lingcong to catch up on sleep; he looked straight ahead the entire way, appearing truly very dignified.
Everyone from the Xie family had long been gathered at the mansion gate, forming a dense crowd; including his parents, elder brother and sister-in-law, Xie Jun who had been brought back, along with both close and distant relatives from the clan, and all the household servants.
When they saw the Prince’s Mansion’s carriage approach, everyone knelt and kowtowed. Lu Lingcong stepped down first, turned back to help Xie Jing out of the carriage, and then went forward to assist Xie Yi and his wife to their feet.
“Father-in-law and Mother-in-law, there’s no need for such a ceremony; today, we don’t distinguish between ruler and minister, but only by seniority; Zhiwu and I are just juniors.”
They were ushered into the main hall—but it stopped there; Xie Jing no longer belonged to this residence, and it was inappropriate to go further inside. Xie Jun happened to be absent when he got married the day before, and at this moment, he was a little shy around strangers, hiding behind Lady Yao and curiously sizing up Lu Lingcong.
Xie Jing gave him a wink and crooked his finger. Xie Jun deftly squeezed through the crowd and slipped into his arms, mumbling, “Little Uncle looks especially handsome today.”
His voice was not loud to begin with, but with everyone’s attention fixed on that spot, it was inevitably heard by the entire crowd. Xie Jing shook his head with a slight laugh; Lady Yao was just about to scold her son with a “don’t be presumptuous,” but Lu Lingcong, who was sitting on the other side, had already spoken, “He is good-looking every day.”
The ro’m fell completely silent. Caught off guard by such a direct remark, Xie Jing was momentarily at a loss for words; after a while, he lowered his voice and said, “Your Highness!”
Lu Lingcong didn’t mind his embarrassment either but spoke gently to Xie Jun, “No need to come up with an excuse. If you miss your little uncle, just come over and play. The Prince’s Mansion’s garden is very spacious.”
Unlike when visiting the palace, even on the day of returning home, they could not stay long at the Xie family residence. Although the Prince’s Mansion and the Xie family were close, Xie Jing could not visit frequently either; it was improper for a dignified Princess Consort to return to his maternal home every day.
All things considered, of all his maternal relatives, only Xie Jun genuinely had a valid reason to see him frequently.
The Empress had once, by chance, mentioned to him that she had heard of a boy named Jun from the Xie family, roughly the same age as Lu Lingzhang, and asked whether he might be brought into the palace as a study companion. Xie Jing, citing Xie Jun’s mischievous nature, had politely but firmly declined.
Originally, just managing the Lu brothers was enough to give Xie Yi a headache; if another Xie Jun, who was reckless and only notable for his height, were added to the mix, it would probably drive his father and elder brother to premature gray hairs.
After exchanging formal and restrained greetings, there was neither time nor opportunity for Xie Jing to speak privately with his family, so they had no choice but to rise and take their leave.
Madam Xie couldn’t care less about the formalities and stepped forward to embrace him; Xie Jing patted her back and whispered, “I am doing well, and I’ll come back again soon, Mother, don’t worry.”
Before stepping out of the main gate, Xie Jing couldn’t help but glance back at the main hall. On the scroll-cloud-headed offering table between the two grand chairs of the main seat, amid the eastern vase and western mirror, rested the piece of the Iron Certificate with crimson script, and on the wall behind it hung Wen Tong’s [Ink Bamboo Painting], and further above was the ancestral motto plaque inscribed with “A Hundred Acts of Forbearance Define the Family’s Reputation.”
“Forbearance” was not only the secret to the harmony of a great clan but also an extremely proper virtue for a minister; when Emperor Gaozong bestowed these four characters, he probably intended the latter.
He would bear the longing for his family and the past, bear the helplessness of his marriage, and for the rest of his life. He had no way of knowing what further hardships he would have to endure. The Xie clan of Chen Commandery, in upholding their integrity, making a name for themselves, and navigating the vicissitudes of official life, relied entirely on this one principle of “endurance.”
Lu Lingcong naturally noticed his reluctance to leave, and on the way back, he said, “There is a secluded small path from the Prince’s Mansion side gate to the back gate of your family’s south courtyard; that’s how I climbed over on the Qixi Festival. If you have time in the future, take advantage of the early morning when no one is around. Have Yi Yun bring you back and return at night after the evening watch is sounded; you can stay the entire day without anyone noticing.”
Xie Jing didn’t ignore him this time but only gave a bitter smile: “Thank you for the trouble; with all that fuss, it would be more convenient to just dig an underground tunnel between the two residences.”
Lu Lingcong’s manners before his parents were thoroughly considerate, and his conduct toward him was likewise impeccable, and it was clear that he wasn’t just putting on a show of affection for the servants at the breakfast table yesterday but genuinely wanted to reassure his parents so that they would worry as little as possible about their second son marrying into the imperial family.
Lu Lingcong shook his head and then asked, “Since it was mentioned just now, we have nothing planned for today anyway, and the weather is also good. How about you accompany me for a walk in the garden when we get back to the mansion? You haven’t been there yet, have you?”
Xie Jing glanced at him with a somewhat complex expression.
He could almost immediately tell that the scene of him holding Lu Ai and gazing absentmindedly at the rear garden beneath the pierced window this morning had definitely caught Lu Lingcong’s attention. Yet, instead of saying “take you” or “lead you,” Lu Lingcong had thoughtfully chosen the word “accompany,” even phrasing it as “you accompany me.”
If he were a beautiful, thoughtless idiot, it would be fine, but he just happened to have ten thousand wits and happened to be able to accurately perceive Lu Lingcong’s kindness and intent, so much so that the burden this brought him was almost equal to the pressure that was lifted for him.
This person was perfect in every way and treated him even better, yet he was not his true love.
But since he wasn’t his true love, why did he treat him so kindly?
Xie Jing did not know whether Prince Zhao’s Mansion was converted from someone else’s in the northwest corner of the lake was an exquisite three-story building, which was the highest point of the entire Prince’s Mansion.
The second floor of the building had been opened up on both sides; one side was a covered walkway connected to stairs that descended to meet the small moon gate of the East Courtyard, and the other side was an elevated walkway that wound its way to encompass half of the back lake, only disappearing when it met the rockery built of Taihu stones at its end.
Lu Lingcong directly ordered lunch to be served on the second floor. Xie Jing sat by the window, gazing absentmindedly at the stone boat half-submerged in the water across the way, and suddenly asked, “The handwriting on these couplets looks extremely familiar, whose calligraphy is it?”
“Think about it again,” Lu Lingcong smiled. “You really shouldn’t have forgotten this.”
Xie Jing tried hard to recall for a while but only felt an increasing sense of familiarity, yet still to no avail.
“I think he wasted the effort to name you the top scholar in three consecutive examinations.”
Xie Jing let out an “ah” sound, frowned, and doubtfully asked, “But the teacher said you were very unruly in your childhood and that he truly couldn’t teach you and voluntarily stepped down; how could he still be willing to write all these words for you in this garden?”
Lu Lingcong said, “I didn’t know you back then, and Grand Tutor Zhang’s calligraphy was the best among the people around me, so of course, I used gentle persuasion and sweet talk to ask the old man; I couldn’t possibly write them myself, could I?”
Xie Jing coughed once, “Your handwriting isn’t even ugly.”
Lu Lingcong chuckled through his nose: “Top Scholar, are you complimenting me or scolding me?”
Xie Jing scooped up a spoonful of the softly stewed tofu pudding, and the tip of his nose was instantly dampened by the rising steam.
He changed the subject: “Don’t you feel that the back lake is a bit empty?”
Lu Lingcong pushed the topping for the tofu pudding toward him. It was a savory sauce made of finely chopped meat mixed with stir-fried vegetables, giving off a subtle salty aroma, clearly a Jiangbei flavor.
“It’s meant to be empty. According to the original blueprint, a pavilion was planned in the center for fishing, escaping the heat, and watching the snow from the middle of the lake, but I noticed that there was no fish or snow in this house, so I told them not to build it. It looks a bit bare right now, but you won’t feel that way once the lotus flowers bloom in the summer.”
When Xie Jing heard “fishing,” his eyes instantly lit up, and he said, “It’s fine if there’s no snow, but fish can be kept. Fishing is very interesting.”
Lu Lingcong casually chimed in, “En, Master Xie fishes only for those willing to take the bait, and Master Xie doesn’t eat sweet fish.”
Xie Jing became serious: “Why can His Highness the Second Prince sit quietly at his desk for a full three hours, while back then Grand Tutor Zhang had to search the whole palace for you? It’s simply because your mind wasn’t calm; fishing is the right cure for that.”
Lu Lingcong raised his eyebrows high: “I only asked you to be lenient with his schoolwork, not to speak up for him like this and even use him to mock me! Whose side are you on anyway?”
Xie Jing smiled, showing half a mouthful of silver teeth: “I’ll side with whoever accompanies me fishing.”
Lu Lingcong examined him suspiciously and narrowed his eyes, “You wouldn’t be thinking of rebuilding that pavilion, right?”
Xie Jing paused, belatedly withdrew his smile, pursed his lips, and sat up straight: “Is it not allowed?”
Lu Lingcong did not answer but counter-questioned, “Say it first, whose side are you on?”
Xie Jing readily complied: “I’m on your side, on Zifeng Gege’s side.”
Lu Lingcong had hoisted himself by his own petard and was momentarily speechless, then conceded, “You can, why not? Even if you don’t side with me, you still can. I didn’t build it originally because I didn’t need it, but you can build whatever you want, you could even fill in this lake.”
Xie Jing lowered his eyes to look at the sautéed fish slices with scallions on the table, first let out a soft “En,” and after a long time, quietly added, “But this is your home.”
terday.
The residential compound stretched five courtyards deep from front to back. Beyond the main gate lay the front courtyard, immediately followed by the main hall, where the ceremony of bowing to Heaven and Earth was performed. Further in was the central hall, used for discussions and receiving guests, with Lu Lingcong’s personal study located in the East Wing. Beyond that lay the flower hall and two guest rooms, one on the east and one on the west. This courtyard was spacious but lacked scenic features, and it was said that Lu Lingcong particularly enjoyed practicing martial arts there. Beyond the flower hall lay the inner courtyard where the family resided, and at the very back was a row of servants’ quarters, where the household workers lived.
But this was only the eastern wing of the Prince’s Mansion, occupying barely half of the entire estate.
On the western side, aside from the stables facing the street, the kitchen, and the treasury, the entire area was devoted to the garden. The Qinhuai River was channeled into the mansion, forming a waterway that varied from narrow to wide, and was divided into a front lake and a back lake by a winding nine-bend covered bridge. The lakeside pavilions and waterside kiosks were all built around the lake, making it almost a new sight every ten steps and a new picture every five steps.
In the northwest corner of the lake was an exquisite three-story building, which was the highest point of the entire Prince’s Mansion.
The second floor of the building had been opened up on both sides; one side was a covered walkway connected to stairs that descended to meet the small moon gate of the East Courtyard, and the other side was an elevated walkway that wound its way to encompass half of the back lake, only disappearing when it met the rockery built of Taihu stones at its end.
Lu Lingcong directly ordered lunch to be served on the second floor. Xie Jing sat by the window, gazing absentmindedly at the stone boat half-submerged in the water across the way, and suddenly asked, “The handwriting on these couplets looks extremely familiar, whose calligraphy is it?”
“Think about it again,” Lu Lingcong smiled. “You really shouldn’t have forgotten this.”
Xie Jing tried hard to recall for a while but only felt an increasing sense of familiarity, yet still to no avail.
“I think he wasted the effort to name you the top scholar in three consecutive examinations.”
Xie Jing let out an “ah” sound, frowned, and doubtfully asked, “But the teacher said you were very unruly in your childhood and that he truly couldn’t teach you and voluntarily stepped down; how could he still be willing to write all these words for you in this garden?”
Lu Lingcong said, “I didn’t know you back then, and Grand Tutor Zhang’s calligraphy was the best among the people around me, so of course, I used gentle persuasion and sweet talk to ask the old man; I couldn’t possibly write them myself, could I?”
Xie Jing coughed once, “Your handwriting isn’t even ugly.”
Lu Lingcong chuckled through his nose: “Top Scholar, are you complimenting me or scolding me?”
Xie Jing scooped up a spoonful of the softly stewed tofu pudding, and the tip of his nose was instantly dampened by the rising steam.
He changed the subject: “Don’t you feel that the back lake is a bit empty?”
Lu Lingcong pushed the topping for the tofu pudding toward him. It was a savory sauce made of finely chopped meat mixed with stir-fried vegetables, giving off a subtle salty aroma, clearly a Jiangbei flavor.
“It’s meant to be empty. According to the original blueprint, a pavilion was planned in the center for fishing, escaping the heat, and watching the snow from the middle of the lake, but I noticed that there was no fish or snow in this house, so I told them not to build it. It looks a bit bare right now, but you won’t feel that way once the lotus flowers bloom in the summer.”
When Xie Jing heard “fishing,” his eyes instantly lit up, and he said, “It’s fine if there’s no snow, but fish can be kept. Fishing is very interesting.”
Lu Lingcong casually chimed in, “En, Master Xie fishes only for those willing to take the bait, and Master Xie doesn’t eat sweet fish.”
Xie Jing became serious: “Why can His Highness the Second Prince sit quietly at his desk for a full three hours, while back then Grand Tutor Zhang had to search the whole palace for you? It’s simply because your mind wasn’t calm; fishing is the right cure for that.”
Lu Lingcong raised his eyebrows high: “I only asked you to be lenient with his schoolwork, not to speak up for him like this and even use him to mock me! Whose side are you on anyway?”
Xie Jing smiled, showing half a mouthful of silver teeth: “I’ll side with whoever accompanies me fishing.”
Lu Lingcong examined him suspiciously and narrowed his eyes, “You wouldn’t be thinking of rebuilding that pavilion, right?”
Xie Jing paused, belatedly withdrew his smile, pursed his lips, and sat up straight: “Is it not allowed?”
Lu Lingcong did not answer but counter-questioned, “Say it first, whose side are you on?”
Xie Jing readily complied: “I’m on your side, on Zifeng Gege’s side.”
Lu Lingcong had hoisted himself by his own petard and was momentarily speechless, then conceded, “You can, why not? Even if you don’t side with me, you still can. I didn’t build it originally because I didn’t need it, but you can build whatever you want, you could even fill in this lake.”
Xie Jing lowered his eyes to look at the sautéed fish slices with scallions on the table. First let out a soft “En,” and after a long time, quietly added, “But this is your home.”
