Chapter 12: Bamboo in the Western Garden (VI)

After witnessing the green-clad figure disappear into the old garden, Yanluo approached and asked, “What did he say to Your Majesty?”

Luo Wei remained silent. The palace attendants had not yet been summoned back. She rose, leaning on a pillar, and suddenly, like a maiden in her boudoir, she shook her wide official sleeves, scattering fallen petals. After removing her outer robe, she lifted her layered skirts, leaped over the railing, and landed directly beneath the flowering trees.

Yanluo took her heavy outer robe, somewhat worriedly calling out, “Your Majesty...”

Luo Wei closed her eyes, extending her arms, and spun around beneath the tree as if returning to her youthful days.

Her hairpins jingled, pearls and jade clinked together, nearly falling but she paid no heed.

Yanluo circled around with her outer robe from the corridor, seeing the Empress already stopped, gazing up at the gaps between the flower trees.

The sunlight was fragmented, new flowers fell, it was the height of spring, so why the sorrow?

Yanluo carefully placed her outer robe in the hall, then retrieved a pot of withered, ugly, gnarled sick plum from a dark corner of the inner chamber.

Luo Wei took the gardening shears handed to her, examined for a moment, then decisively cut off the lowest branch near the trunk.

Though the branch was withered, after cutting it, a faint woody scar remained on the trunk. She casually discarded the cut branch, holding the pot of plum, remaining silent for a long time.

Yanluo looked up, amidst the falling flowers, the young Empress smiled on her face, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Afei, let’s recite a Buddhist sutra for Bu Jun.”

A dull pain welled up in her heart.

Because she knew, Bu Jun was Lady Zhang’s nickname.

•

At the end of Changning era, Zhang Bu Jun, fourteen years old from Lingjin Academy, took leave to sew mourning clothes for Su Niangzi, the daughter of a former prime minister, without charge. For convenience and gratitude, Luo Wei invited her to temporarily stay at the Su residence.

At that time, Crown Prince Chengming was also at the Su residence. This chance encounter led her to meet the Crown Prince’s personal guard.

Lu Heng, deputy commander of the Golden Sky Guard, styled Fengying.

The young man wore narrow-sleeved robes adorned with gold pins, following behind the noble Crown Prince. His coiled snake short sword was icy cold, his back straight like the green bamboo she kept by her window.

Bu Jun heard that the entire Golden Sky Guard were impoverished youths selected by the Crown Prince in his youth, trained for years through countless hardships to become elite soldiers.

He was among the best of them.

When Bu Jun looked at him, she didn’t know that at another moment, he had also gazed at her. When she sat by the window, skillfully embroidering a begonia flower onto the Crown Prince’s sleeve, her white hands moved like clouds, exuding a unique charm.

That year, Miss Su and Crown Prince Chengming became engaged, but due to her father’s mourning period, the wedding was postponed.

To celebrate this, the emperor changed the next year’s era name to Tianshou.

In the first year of Tianshou, Bu Jun received favor from the Crown Princess and was transferred from Lingjin Academy to the inner palace.

The Crown Prince was deeply favored by the emperor. Even though he had already been crowned and granted a separate residence, he frequently visited the forbidden palace.

Bu Jun and Lu Heng had more opportunities to meet.

In the third year of Tianshou, the Crown Prince was assassinated.

When Bu Jun heard about it, Lu Heng had already been transferred to the newly ascended emperor’s side. She didn’t rejoice at his subsequent fame and fortune; surviving the assassination attempt was something to be thankful for.

The Crown Prince was dead, Miss Su married the new emperor and became empress.

Bu Jun was greatly favored, becoming her attendant in charge of clothing.

The new emperor changed the era name to Jinghe.

Peaceful and harmonious, though it didn’t match the swordplay and bloodshed in court, it was her greatest hope as a small person.

In the early winter of the third year of Jinghe, Bu Jun resolved to request permission to leave the palace. She had reached marriageable age. Though continuing her career in the palace might bring great fortune, she wasn’t greedy. Smoothly marrying her beloved would be an unattainable blessing.

This should have been a peaceful and sweet story, ending here.

However, when Bu Jun went to bid farewell to the Empress, she was unexpectedly told that the Empress had caught a cold and was bedridden.

Because she was always close to the Empress, the palace attendants let her in.

The room was filled with strong incense, even somewhat pungent. Among it, she smelled sandalwood, the rest mixed together indistinguishably.

The smoke swirled, like the fairyland of Penglai. She parted the light gauze in the hall, tiptoed closer, and saw in the sharp winter weather, the Empress wearing only a middle layer garment, her hair loose, disregarding propriety, slumped before the couch, tightly embracing something, cherishing it greatly, as if wanting to press it into her body.

Hearing footsteps, the Empress raised her head, still dazed, seeing it was her, her lips quivered twice, tears fell first, then she called out tremblingly, “Bu Jun!”

When had she seen her like this? Scared stiff, she immediately knelt down, but unlike ordinary servants who dared not approach, she crawled on her knees to support the distraught young woman, “Your Majesty, why is this...”

Luo Wei reached out to hold her neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

Bu Jun felt a sour bitterness in her heart, remembering when Luo Wei was not yet empress, she stayed at her home overnight, brought cakes in the middle of the night, then chatted.

They had always gotten along well. Back when her parents had passed away, if not for their occasional recognition, how could Bu Jun smoothly become a top embroiderer in Lingjin Academy, enter the palace, and achieve what she has now?

But this life-saving benefactor was no longer the carefree young girl of those days, now crying her heart out in her arms.

As the Empress, despite her grief, she couldn’t let others outside hear, so she had to endure.

Heart-wrenching, yet silent.

Bu Jun boldly comforted her by stroking her long hair as before, her gaze wandering, catching sight of the box in her arms.

A golden nanmu wood box, carved with various flowers. The craftsman had deliberately engraved spring upon it, so it was a profusion of flowers, lush and verdant.

But how plain the color of nanmu was, forcing even the splendor of spring to sadden.

What surprised Bu Jun wasn’t this dispirited spring day.

It was realizing she had seen this box before!

Vaguely, not long before the Citang case, on an ordinary night, Lu Heng rarely came late on his non-duty days. In his outer residence, she caught a glimpse, thinking it was a gift for her, but later never saw it again.

Inside the box was a begonia flower jade pendant.

When the wooden lid of the box was opened, Bu Jun clearly heard the sound of an invisible string tightening to its limit, then suddenly snapping.

Something she didn’t understand at the time slid along the lid, completely ending the life she thought she could see ahead.

From the moment she persistently asked the Empress to open the box, everything was irreversible.

Bu Jun was Luo Wei’s attendant in charge of clothing, how could she not know the significance of this jade pendant – it was personally carved by the Crown Prince as a token of love for his fiancée.

Before the Citang case, Luo Wei had lost this jade pendant.

Upon realizing, Luo Wei was so anxious that she immediately mobilized all her household servants to search. Bu Jun also helped Luo Wei search every corner of the market, finding nothing.

But how could it appear here, in this wooden box?

And why had this wooden box once appeared beside Lu Heng!

Luo Wei spoke word by word in her ear, saying she never expected to see this jade pendant again.

– In Song Lan’s old box.

Bu Jun hastily left, speaking vaguely. Taking advantage of Lu Heng’s absence, she thoroughly searched his residence in the palace, finding nothing.

Still not reassured, Bu Jun found an opportunity to search his outer residence. This time, she finally found a thick stack of letters.

Calling them letters wasn’t quite accurate – they were discarded papers where Lu Heng meticulously copied someone else’s handwriting. He practiced very carefully, sometimes practicing just one character on a piece of scrap paper.

That handwriting was uncannily familiar. Bu Jun’s heart raced as she flipped through.

“See... letter... don’t... think...”

This stack was hidden under his bed, in the most secret place. Some edges bore traces of being scorched by fire, presumably intended to be burned but forgotten due to some delay.

See the letter, don’t dwell on it, see the letter, don’t dwell on it?

Bu Jun repeated these words many times, her hands trembling increasingly. Old memories flooded back, vaguely recalling this seemed to be a casual letter Luo Wei once wrote to her.

At that time, she accompanied the royal family on a spring tour to Jiangnan, writing to tell her about fashionable fabrics and embroidery techniques she saw, and asking her to make clothes.

Just this one letter, only this one letter.

Why did this letter end up in Lu Heng’s hands? Why did he meticulously copy Luo Wei’s handwriting, what was his intention?

She slid down along the bed, cold sweat pouring down.

After winter, on a dim yellow evening, Bu Jun arranged to meet Lu Heng in the Western Garden, where they often secretly met.

He wasn’t late, entering hurriedly, taking off his qilin wrist guard while walking, “Ajun, we just met yesterday, why did you want to meet here again? In a few days, you’ll be leaving the palace, then...”

Bu Jun turned around, looking at this extremely familiar face, she trembled and asked, “Why did you betray His Highness?”

These days, she painstakingly recalled many things, becoming increasingly shocked – perhaps long ago, she had glimpsed him once in front of Song Lan’s hall; in his outer residence one day, he brewed Guzhu Zisun tea, which Chief Minister Yu Qishi favored; after the Citang case, he led the entire Golden Sky Guard to pledge allegiance to the new emperor. The Golden Sky Guard mourned their former master for three days by their swords, but he didn’t shed a single tear.

Lu Heng initially refused to admit it, but couldn’t answer her numerous questions. Finally, he lowered his eyes and abruptly asked her, “Who I am loyal to, whom I serve, what does it have to do with our wealth, honor, freedom, and happiness?”

Bu Jun stepped back in disbelief.

But Lu Heng wouldn’t let go, pressing forward and clearly stating his thoughts: “Bu Jun, I have no parents, grew up in the Changfeng Hall of the Golden Sky Guard since childhood. Do you know what kind of life I led? Swords are merciless, I’m covered in scars, but I dare not slack off, fearing being abandoned and becoming a nameless ghost!”

Bu Jun grabbed his arm, wailing, “His Highness trusted you so much, cultivated you wholeheartedly. Joining the army, becoming a general, was within reach. Everyone suffers in life, have you ever thought that without His Highness, without Her Majesty, we might have long become ghosts. What future could we talk about?”

Lu Heng sneered, “Yes, His Highness treated me with great kindness, but you don’t know, His Highness doesn’t know either. Fame, wealth, and the title of general, I don’t care about any of it! I suffered in my youth, and as I grew up, I desperately wanted to live freely. Gambling, whoring, privately minting money, I’ve done it all. If not for the current Emperor covering for me, your good His Highness would have taken my life long ago! Rather than living in fear of him finding out, it’s better to strike first!”

As the evening drizzle began, through tear-filled eyes, Bu Jun saw her once familiar lover slowly drawing his waist knife.

Years of love, he actually hadn’t intended to kill, even softened his tone: “Bu Jun, you’re about to leave the palace soon. The life and death struggles of these great people, what does it have to do with us? I’ve repented sincerely. Not daring to speak much about past matters was also to avoid scaring you. From now on, can’t you pretend you don’t know anything?”

She looked at him, unable to help laughing out loud.

Thinking she had come to terms with it, he tried to offer her an embrace like before. Unexpectedly, she tightly grabbed his arm and crashed into his unsheathed blade.

The blade slashed across her chest. Lu Heng retracted it quickly; it wasn’t a fatal wound. He held her shoulders, bitterly asking, “Why are you doing this? For whom!”

Bu Jun didn’t speak, blood mixing with rainwater stained the ground of the Western Garden.

He let go, wanting to find a doctor for her. Not far from the Western Garden, he suddenly realized – this place was usually locked, rarely visited. An extra corpse might not be discovered for many years.

But if he brought a doctor, would his resolute lover keep silent before the Empress to save his life?

Lu Heng made up his mind, standing alone in the rain for a long time. Finally turning back, he wanted to take one last look.

Unexpectedly, there was no trace of anyone in the old palace chamber. By the square well mouth, a long trail of blood stretched – after he left, she had thrown herself into the well in despair.

Perhaps it was for the best, sparing him from having to do it himself.

That night’s spring rain washed away all the bloodstains.

He locked the palace chamber again, gathered all the keys, everything as if nothing had happened.

For several days, Lu Heng felt disoriented.

Zhang Bu Jun was a court lady about to leave the palace, no need for duty shifts, no orders given, no one cared. A few acquaintances would assume she had already left the palace.

Did her beloved Empress ever inquire about her disappearance?

Lu Heng thought mockingly, raising his hand to drink the new tea sent by the Inner Service Bureau. Today was Shangsi Festival, the Dianhong Grand Assembly would commence, the Inner Service Bureau had changed to new tea, different from what he used to drink.

For some reason, after drinking that cup of tea, he felt much more mentally fatigued, coupled with his recent unease about the murder case. Even the scholar by his side, weak and powerless, managed to snatch his sword without him reacting.

Luo Wei found all the young dresses Bu Jun had made for her in the past, washed and dried them, hanging them one by one in the garden where begonias had just started blooming.

Yanluo stood by her side, softly saying, “Your Majesty, Lu Commander’s tea, this humble servant has...”

“Sent someone to deliver it.”

Luo Wei raised her head, the silk sash fluttering against her cheek in the gentle breeze.

Yanluo continued, “Your Majesty’s departure was hasty, the person to stumble upon the scene hasn’t been decided yet. If anything unexpected happens...”

But Luo Wei simply said, “It’s about time. First, help me change clothes.”

After changing, the eunuch personally came to escort her from the Emperor’s side. Yanluo followed the Empress’s sedan chair, head bowed, advancing towards the Western Garden. Near the Western Garden, they encountered a green-robed civil official.

“This lowly official pays respects to Her Majesty, please forgive this official’s disrespect.”

After the sedan passed the young official, she raised her head, seeing the Empress’s meaningful eyes.

The candidate was roughly chosen.

“The weather seems unfavorable. Go back and instruct the palace attendants to collect the dresses in the garden.”

“Yes.”

...

Yanluo recalled these old events, kneeling on the prayer mat in the inner chamber, bowing three times, watching as the Empress found the letter Zhang Bu Jun had sent her a few days before the Dianhong Assembly.

The letter contained a copper key and a jade ring, stolen by her from Lu Heng the day before she decided to die.

Her letter detailed everything, the letter, the meeting, the suspicions, unreservedly recording her plans, writing them all down for her. To her, betrayal by her pillow companion and the daily torment of guilt couldn’t sustain her anymore.

Luo Wei reread that letter, thinking in her heart, both our sides harbor snakes and scorpions. Whether wise or not, it’s hard to detect in the short term. It’s precisely because they are loved ones that despair is so profound when the truth is revealed.

But you...

Good people in this world don’t live long, probably always because they adhere too firmly to moral principles deep in their hearts. Even though these principles have been trampled to pieces by those harboring evil intentions, there are still people stepping forward one after another.

She had thousands of ways to prevent Zhang Bu Jun’s death while dealing with Lu Heng, but before she could plan everything, Zhang Bu Jun had already made her choice.

“I am guilty of remembrance, unrepentant of sacrifice. Here is a good plan, offered to Your Highness. May this life repay old grudges. Should we meet in a future life, may we meet again, our hearts open, our pure hearts untainted.”

“Jun’s final stroke, respectfully submitted.”

Jun means bamboo, upright like the wind among trees. Even the famous varieties of flowers in the world can hardly match this integrity.

Yanluo saw the Empress’s reply left on the flower stationery by the window.

“...It’s the height of spring, new flowers falling. Kindness cannot be forgotten, feelings cannot be abandoned, the eight sufferings of human life, all evoke sadness.”

Luo Wei threw the letter detailing everything Zhang Bu Jun had seen and heard, along with her own flower stationery, into the incense burner, watching as they burned together into a silent pile of ashes.

“The Western Garden is desolate, and with the recent murder case, it’s truly ominous. Pass on my decree, order the gardener to remove the old withered grass and plant only green bamboo.”