The method of drinking daily and living as if in a drunken dream was effective, but it truly ravaged the body and was ultimately not a long-term solution; thus, they used the commotion caused by Lu Lingzhen as an excuse to change their tactics. Every so often, the Prince’s Mansion would throw its doors wide open to welcome people from all walks of life into the gardens that were usually rarely seen, nearly turning the mansion into a famous scenic landmark.
Only the Qibi Terrace, which Lu Lingcong had specifically built as a gift for Xie Jing, remained off-limits to the public for the time being. Over time, everyone developed the ability to remain unmoved amidst the noisy crowds. Even with tourists outside, Xie Jing could still take the children to nap on the terrace without distraction. Lu Shuning was sandwiched between her mother and brother, huddled together in a cozy heap and covered by a single fluffy fox-fur blanket.
However, as strangers and acquaintances came and went, the reply from the Wang family never arrived. In the autumn of the sixteenth year of Zhenyou, for reasons unknown, Wang Xi and Cui Shushi got into a fierce altercation; so severe that it was said it nearly escalated to the authorities. After that, Lu Shuqing never saw Ah Huang again.
He appeared somewhat perplexed and asked his mother, “Why do some people suddenly just disappear?”
Xie Jing sat beside him under the swing set while leisurely swaying as they shared a plate of crab roe pastries. He thought for a moment and replied, “Such is the nature of life’s meetings and partings. The affairs of this world drift like passing clouds, with impermanence being the norm rather than the exception. Those who walk beside you may suddenly go their separate ways, just as someone unexpected may appear and continue the journey with you; both are entirely commonplace. In time, you will encounter this again and again, and gradually, you will come to accept it as something ordinary.”
In the crisp, clear air of late autumn, it was indeed difficult to feel the flavor of “sorrow and loneliness.” The wind surged from behind, tousling both of their hair. Lu Shuqing’s faint, muddled melancholy from the parting was quickly blown away, and he squinted comfortably. “Mother, I want to swing even higher.”
“Fine then,” Xie Jing said as he hopped down from the other swing to set aside the plate and walked behind him. “Hold on tight!”
Then he gave a forceful push. Lu Shuqing gave a light cry of delight before soaring up like a young eagle skimming the ground, casting himself unconstrained into the embrace of heaven and earth.
After the weather turned cold, time seemed to slow down. Days in Prince Zhao’s Mansion flowed forward calmly and without ripples until they reached the end of the year. It was announced that, owing to the emperor’s ill health, the usual New Year’s Eve banquet in the palace would be canceled, and the palace gates would be shut before nightfall. Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing agreed to enter the palace during the day to complete the various rites for the emperor and empress, have lunch with Lady Wu and Lu Lingzhen at Mingluan Hall, and return to Wuyi Lane in the evening to keep the New Year’s Eve vigil.
The new garments prepared for the heir and the princess arrived ahead of time. Using the leftover fabric, the maids of the inner courtyard stitched a fur collar for Lu Ai. The little green parrot caught the eye of every passerby after draped in her red scarf, filling her with boundless pride. Only Lu Shuqing found it charming rather than gaudy, allowing her to perch on his shoulder and accompany him wherever he went. She was estimated to be eleven or twelve years old, quite an advanced age, but her movements were no less agile than before. Lu Lingcong remarked that with careful and proper care, she still had plenty of life left in her.
On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Yin Chou styled Lu Shuning’s hair into ball-shaped buns with the tops smoothed into a curved arc like cat ears. Small golden lanterns were hung every finger-width apart on the red silk ribbons wound between the two buns, emitting a clear, melodious tinkling as she ran and jumped. Lu Lingcong found it incredibly amusing; every so often, he couldn’t help but reach out to give them a little tug or poke them to make some noise.
Xie Jing sat washing up before the vanity mirror when Lu Shuning climbed onto his lap and threw her arms around his neck, proactively asking for a kiss. She had him utterly smitten from the moment morning began; he felt as though he had somehow brought a tiny celestial being into the world. He kept pressing kisses to her soft cheeks, only stopping at last out of fear of disturbing her neatly done hair buns.
On the wall behind the mirror hung a “Nine-Nine Cold Dispelling Chart,” an old pastime of refined households. It depicted a spray of nine plum branches, each bearing nine pale blossoms. Starting from the Winter Solstice, one would pick up a brush during the morning toilette and dye a single petal red each day; by the time all eighty-one blossoms were in full bloom, spring would have returned with its warmth. Since Lu Shuning often frequented her parents’ room, the dressing table was cluttered with things she had left behind. Xie Jing took her small hand, dipped it in a bit of crimson rouge balm, and lifted her up to color the nearly completed chart.
A large number of visitors waiting to deliver New Year gifts and calling cards had gathered in the front hall early that morning, so Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing sent the two children ahead to accompany their grandmother. They would meet the guests first and enter the palace a bit later.
There was no sign of the emperor or empress inside Shenlong Hall. After questioning an internal eunuch, they learned everyone was in the West Palace and should be returning shortly; the two were asked to wait a moment under the veranda. It was almost ironic; back when Lu Lingcong had refused his fiefdom and threatened to call off the engagement, this was the exact spot where they had been forced to kneel in punishment for the duration of New Year’s Eve.
In the freezing weather, neither felt like speaking, so they simply stood bored before the steps while waiting. Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed in, forcing them both to raise their sleeves to shield their faces, turning away with squinted eyes.
Xie Jing frowned before looking up at the somewhat gloomy sky. “I feel like I didn’t dress Ningning warmly enough.”
“Are you cold?” Lu Lingcong asked.
Xie Jing nodded. Lu Lingcong gestured for him to stand closer before opening his cloak to let him slip inside, then wrapping it around them both as they embraced. With their faces buried in each other’s soft, fluffy collars, Xie Jing pressed his piping-hot hand warmer against Lu Lingcong’s stomach to rub it gently.
Silence settled once more, broken only by the keen whistle of the northern wind in their ears.
They remained like that for who knew how long, oblivious to everything around them, until a deliberately drawn-out cough from Zhong Zhao sounded from behind. Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing snapped back to their senses, slowly and sluggishly pulling apart as they turned to look.
A dense crowd stood not far away, gazing at them with equal silence and astonishment. Leading them were the emperor and empress with the emperor holding Lu Shuqing’s hand. A step or two behind, Lady Wu followed, carrying Lu Shuning in her arms! Just as expected, an extra cloak had been added to the girl’s attire. Lu Lingzhen and Lu Lingzhang followed on either side, and further back were other concubines, female officials, and a grand, seemingly endless procession of palace servants and eunuchs.
Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing stood further apart in a futile attempt to cover it up, but everyone had seen it: the two of them embracing in front of Shenlong Hall as if no one else existed.
The emperor stepped forward slowly and remarked indifferently, “Showing off in public wasn’t enough for you.”
His voice wasn’t loud, yet everyone nearby could hear it, and everyone knew what he was referring to. Prince Zhao and his princess consort’s half-year of absurd indulgence was known to everyone in the capital; their being dressed impeccably now didn’t mean anyone would forget the scandals associated with them.
The two had no retort and could only pay their respects. Though they had been husband and wife in the open for ten years, with nothing to conceal and no question of impropriety, being caught in such undisguised intimacy before both elders and juniors was, inevitably, still awkward.
They silently merged into this most noble procession in the world. As Xie Jing passed Lu Shuqing, he gave him a sly wink; Lu Lingcong moved to Lu Lingzhen’s side, and the siblings began whispering to each other without looking away from the path.
Lu Lingzhen gloated, “Got scolded, didn’t you?”
Lu Lingcong gritted his teeth. “Don’t get happy too soon. Everyone is here today; no one is getting away scot-free.”
Lu Lingzhen lifted the silk cord of the jade pendant at her waist to twirl rapidly around her fingertip. She said nonchalantly, “I’ve long been used to having no sense of shame. You’d better worry about Saosao getting bullied when they start dredging up old accounts.”
“What were you doing so early this morning?” Lu Lingcong asked. “Why are you sweating in this weather?”
Lu Lingzhen was the most “lightly” dressed among the royal party, wearing only a vermilion, narrow-sleeved, round-collar robe with a diamond pattern. She was so radiant she was almost dazzling. In the prime of her youth, not yet twenty, her beauty was like a crimson peony spilling beyond the railing; far too striking and unrestrained for the confines of the forbidden court yet finding no place to take root within the imperial gardens. It made one almost apprehensive, fearing the flower might bloom and wither too abruptly to last.
She gestured mysteriously for Lu Lingcong to lean in, and once he complied, she whispered, “I’m not telling you.”
However, before they walked a few steps, joy turned to sorrow. The silk cord accidentally snagged on something and spun out of her hand before flying straight toward the empress’s skirt. With a crisp ‘crack’, it shattered.
Lu Lingcong let out an ill-timed, vengeful snicker. He tried to hold it back but failed; the sound suppressed in his throat was exceptionally comical. The empress looked back coldly. Lu Lingzhang, who was beside her, leaned over to pick up the jade pendant and dutifully handed it back to Lu Lingzhen, only to receive a sharp glare from Lady Wang as well.
Once they were seated inside the hall and had finished three cups of warm wine, Lu Lingzhen finally pulled a handful of colorful peace talismans from her bosom to reveal her secret. “I got up early and went to Linggu Temple to pray for the whole family. They have names and birth dates on them; come, everyone takes yours.”
The peace talismans were nothing more than thin strips of paper, making the printed words, “ward off illness and dispel calamity, free from disaster and suffering”, feel far from convincing. Lu Lingcong asked suspiciously, “Linggu Temple is a major monastery, after all; do they really use this kind of paper? You weren’t scammed, were you?”
Upon closer inspection, the “whole family” Lu Lingzhen spoke of was a family in the broadest possible sense—naturally, it included her mother, her brother and sister-in-law, and her nephew and niece, but there were also the maternal uncles and aunts from the Wu family, the emperor, and even the empress and Lu Lingzhang.
The emperor and empress were out of earshot seated at the head of the hall, but Lu Lingzhang was present and was quite surprised to see his own name.
Lu Lingzhen gave a sheepish laugh and whispered, “Urg, actually, I bought them at a stall in front of the temple gate. The vendor said they only sold them in sets of twelve, so to make up the number, I had no choice but to write everyone down.”
Lu Lingcong: “You really were scammed by that guy!”
Lu Lingzhen finally confessed the truth: “Fine, it’s actually because the vendor had an exceptionally fine Hu blade. At first, he refused to sell it, but later, seeing how sincerely I liked it, he took advantage of me. Not only did he ask an outrageous price, but he also demanded that I clear out all the peace talismans on his stall before he would agree to sell me the knife.”
The eldest princess’s discernment had been honed since childhood, shaped by constant exposure to her elder brother’s influence; if she said it was a fine blade, then it was unlikely to be mistaken. Lu Lingzhen had not inherited the Yue bloodline’s aptitude for trade or bargaining to any noticeable degree, but when it came to weapons, he had fully inherited the Yue people’s famed tradition of masterful swordsmithing and keen familiarity with arms.
Sure enough, as soon as Lu Lingcong heard there was a good blade, he immediately forgot about mocking her for being swindled: “I don’t believe it, unless you let me play with it.” This, however, only earned him a fierce throat-cutting gesture from Lu Lingzhen.
Lu Lingzhang opened the sachet he carried, tucked his peace talisman inside, and gave his sister a subtle nod. Lu Lingzhen flashed him with a smile and made a cupped-fist salute under the table to say, “thanks for the support,” then picked out the ones for the emperor, empress, and Lady Wu before heading toward the front of the hall.
Xie Jing held Lu Shuning in his arms to teach her to recognize the characters for “free from calamity and suffering” while whispering to her, “Mother’s courtesy name also has this ‘Wu’.” Before they could exchange more than a few words of small talk, they suddenly heard the emperor’s reprimand from the front, “Next time, do not bring such things into the palace again!”
Everyone was stunned. Even Lu Lingzhen, who was fearless as she was, flinched at her father’s sudden outburst of rage. At her feet lay the torn remains of the peace talisman intended for the emperor; palace attendants moved nimbly to sweep away the paper scraps. To avoid violating the Imperial Taboo, only the birth date; and not the name, had been written on that slip of paper.
In truth, the emperor seldom showed anger; more often, his emotions were so restrained that joy and displeasure alike were impossible to read. Toward his daughter, he typically maintained a detached indifference, rarely taking interest in where she was or what she was doing. Lu Lingzhen stood frozen. She had expected the emperor to ignore such a trifle and cast it aside, but she never imagined, nor could she understand, how a simple line of birth information could have offended the imperial dignity.
Seeing this, Lu Lingcong stepped forward and said, “Emperor Father’s birthday is known to the whole world. Zhenzhen’s filial heart only hopes for Emperor Father’s health and well-being. Even if she was impulsive, it can hardly be called a fault.”
He wondered if the emperor, who was in poor health, was superstitious about the words “ward off illness and dispel calamity,” but it didn’t seem quite right. The emperor’s anger was clearly directed at that line of birth data. But that was even stranger—the Son of Heaven’s birthday was a day of national celebration. It had been celebrated fine in previous years, so why had it suddenly become a bad omen? It couldn’t possibly be that the birth date was written incorrectly and the emperor wasn’t actually born on that day, could it?
Lu Lingcong was so preoccupied with protecting Lu Lingzhen that his words came out too sharp in his haste; he might have been better off staying silent. Seeing the emperor look toward his eldest son as the target of his shifting ire, Lady Wu quickly stepped in to smooth things over for her children: “Zhenzhen is young and ignorant; she doesn’t know the weight of things. A few words of reprimand from Your Majesty are enough. On this day of family reunion, please do not punish them.”
Lu Shuqing also tugged at the emperor’s hand, seizing the moment. “Grandfather, please don’t be angry anymore. I’ve recently learned the [Classic of Filial Piety]; I’ll recite it for Grandfather.”
Upon hearing his persuasion, the emperor’s expression finally softened slightly. He raised a hand and impatiently waved Lu Lingzhen away.
After leaving Shenlong Hall at midday, Lu Lingzhen’s willful, spoiled princess temperament clearly took over. Her brows were dark and knitted, and she said not a single word. But the moment she returned to Mingluan Hall and the doors were shut, she spat out in anger, “Good intentions taken for ill will! From now on, don’t expect any more filial devotion from me! Even if he disapproves again, he can’t really kill me!”
No one reached out to cover her mouth or tell her to speak cautiously—even the palace servants attending Lady Wu felt stifled and aggrieved on her behalf. New Year’s Eve was supposed to be for unbridled enjoyment, yet it had been ruined so early in the day; it was truly as disappointing as it could be.
Lady Wu simply walked back into the inner sleeping quarters, brought out a short whisk broom used for cleaning beds, and gently dusted Lu Lingzhen’s dust-free outer garment.
Lu Lingzhen jumped up. “Mother, what are you doing! These are my newly changed clothes!”
But Lady Wu said, “I’m brushing away your bad luck and injustices. Leave them all in the old year; don’t bring them past tonight into the coming year.”
Hearing this, Lu Lingzhen instead took the broom and vigorously wiped herself down several times as if venting her anger, making everyone in the room laugh.
Xie Jing noticed her sitting there with her lips pursed and her face downcast, slumped listlessly against the couch. He lowered his voice to Lu Shuning and said, “Look, your aunt is unhappy. Let’s go and cheer her up a little.”
Lu Shuning curled herself into Lu Lingzhen’s arms, burrowing about like a rabbit digging a burrow; this was her usual way of showing affection. Xie Jing then sat down beside Lu Lingzhen and drew an arm around her shoulders. “His Majesty’s outburst today likely has other reasons; it wasn’t specifically targeted at you. I know you’re angry, but there are as many rotten people and rotten things in this world as there are hairs on a cow. If you get worked up over every single one, won’t you turn yourself into a puffed-up pufferfish?”
He then leaned in close to Lu Lingzhen’s ear and murmured, “All these years I’ve been silently reciting to myself every day: when the Empress gets angry, I won’t; if I die of anger, she will get her way. On the flip side, if I can outlive one person, that’s one; if I outlive two, I’ve gained one. My ancestor, dear young lady; buying a knife and getting cheated out of gold is one thing we can treat it as spending to avert disaster. But in matters like this, you must not let others take advantage of you.”
Lu Lingcong had approached at some unknown point and suddenly chimed in from behind, “If you die of anger, I certainly won’t have my wish.”
The two were startled by him. They watched as Lu Lingcong, suddenly all warmth and good humor, flicked Lu Lingzhen on the nose and pinched Xie Jing’s earlobe in turn. Then, without pause, he lifted his right hand; the exquisite Hu-style blade with its edge like autumn frost had already been retrieved by him, now held in a reverse grip in his palm.
“I obtained a piece of fine golden peach bark the day before yesterday. Tomorrow, I’ll make it into a scabbard for you, inlaid with bright pearls, so you can hang it at your waist and show off your prestige on the streets,” Lu Lingcong said to his sister. “Now, that should finally dissipate your anger, right?”
