Chapter 14: Hastening Spring’s End (II)

In the blink of an eye, it was the Qingming season. Flowers inside and outside the palace fell profusely, withering naturally. The court was also not peaceful—the war on the northern frontier dragged on endlessly, there was a spring drought in Jiangnan, and the inner palace had witnessed a case of a guard captain murdering a female official over love, causing several factions of court officials to argue incessantly without resolution.

Although Luo Wei had been nominated by the court officials to assist in governance, since the second year of Jinghe, she had refused to rule from behind a curtain. Instead, she listened to the emperor’s words and helped alleviate his worries—if she hadn’t retreated strategically from the eyes of the courtiers, she might not have earned her current good reputation.

Luo Wei no longer needed to rise early and enjoyed her leisure. She only needed to visit Qianfang Hall every four days to help Song Lan process accumulated memorials.

Amidst constant turmoil, she had informants of her own and didn’t need to personally act under the watchful eyes of the emperor and chancellor, which would only invite suspicion.

Four days before Hanshi, another spring rain fell in the imperial palace, trapping the smoke among the willows, secretly hastening the end of spring. Luo Wei always felt melancholy on such weather, leaning against the round moon window watching the rain drip from the eaves.

The palace attendants bustled about, lowering the bamboo curtains in front of the corridor. The courtyard of Qionghua Palace was deep, and after the curtains were drawn, it became even more desolate, dim and lightless, unlike midday.

Yanluo approached, holding an outer robe, wanting to ask if Her Majesty felt the chill of spring. However, she saw that Luo Wei was resting silently, having already fallen asleep.

Luo Wei now dreamed much more than before. Apart from the frequently recurring Lantern Festival night, she could also dream of some happy old memories.

For instance, today she dreamed of their first meeting.

•

The first time she entered the palace with her father Su Zhoudu, Luo Wei was only five years old.

At that time, her mother was still alive but in poor health, bedridden daily, and unable to accompany this father-daughter duo.

Though strict etiquette was observed in public, privately, between Su Zhoudu and Emperor Gao, Song Rongxiao, there was no distance of ruler and subject. In front of his close friend, the emperor rarely referred to himself as “I.”

After dismissing the palace attendants with a wave of his hand, Emperor Gao personally poured wine for her father, laughing and asking, “It’s been five years, finally decided to bring your daughter to the palace?”

The little girl held her skirt, imitating the graceful lotus steps carefully taught by the matrons at home, and tenderly stepped forward to pay respects: “This humble servant pays respects to His Imperial Majesty, wishing…”

Before she finished speaking, she was lifted and weighed by Emperor Gao: “What a beautiful little girl, Luo Wei, see me as your uncle, no need for such formalities.”

He then complained, “Zhoudu, you’re too stingy. Such a wonderful daughter, why didn’t you bring her to the palace earlier?”

Su Zhoudu was somewhat helpless but did not stop him: “A young child entering the palace might cause offense. Now that she understands worldly affairs, I dare to bring her for you to see.”

Seeing how kind and approachable Emperor Gao was, Luo Wei gradually stopped being afraid and was even made to giggle by him.

Emperor Gao patted her double buns, turned to Su Zhoudu and said, “I think Luo Wei is excellent. Why don’t we betroth her to my family? I was just thinking…”

“Your Majesty, the second prince has arrived.”

Before he finished speaking, he was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. The eunuch attending Emperor Gao bowed and entered, leading in a handsome and dignified older brother from outside the hall.

Luo Wei hugged Emperor Gao’s neck and turned to look.

The older brother was two years older than her, already tall and slender, dressed in pale gold, with high-bound hair. His actions and demeanor strictly adhered to rules. After entering, he paid respects without looking up: “This humble servant greets Father Emperor, may I ask about Your Majesty’s health?”

“I am well,” Emperor Gao put her down and gestured for the older brother to rise, “Ling, it’s fortunate you came. Come quickly to see, this is your teacher’s younger sister, named Luo Wei.”

The young man rose properly, glanced once, and respectfully averted his gaze. However, he couldn’t resist stealing a few more glances: “Indeed extraordinary, as befits the teacher’s younger sister. Falling flowers stand alone, while swallows fly in pairs in drizzle… Her name suits her perfectly.”

Luo Wei looked up at him. The main hall doors were slightly ajar, and the noon sunlight streamed through the gaps, enveloping the youth in a golden glow.

She wanted to see more clearly, so she took a few steps closer, raising her hand to shield her eyes, intending to block the light. Unexpectedly, the young man was startled and naturally took her hand.

Their clasped hands burned hot under the light, and Luo Wei felt a layer of sticky sweat form in her palm. She blinked, finally seeing his features clearly, momentarily forgetting all the etiquette her mother had earnestly taught her, even omitting honorifics: “…It’s not drizzle, it’s ‘wei’ from plants.”

The young man immediately responded, “The crape myrtle blooms red for a hundred days, very auspicious.”

Luo Wei smiled, secretly squeezing his palm.

Their first meeting was without any shyness. Emperor Gao clapped and laughed loudly, turning to Su Zhoudu: “Zhoudu, you see, I was right. These two children met with fate. From now on, let Luo Wei enter the palace often to keep company with Ling as her study companion.”

Luo Wei’s grandfather, Su Chaochi, was a renowned prime minister of two dynasties, deeply connected with Ming Emperor. This close relationship continued into her father’s generation. Her mother said that her father had entered the palace as a study companion to Emperor Gao since he was young, growing up together like brothers.

She had initially doubted this, thinking the golden halls were majestic and imperial favor unpredictable. But upon meeting them today, she realized that within the strict inner court, there truly existed a friendship between Emperor Gao and her father, free of suspicion and unbound by formalities.

“Ling, Luo Wei is entering the palace for the first time. Take her around to explore. Since she’ll come often in the future, consider it an early familiarization with the paths.”

“This humble servant obeys the decree.”

Su Zhoudu patted Luo Wei’s shoulder, gently instructing her to follow her elder brother and not to run around.

Only then did she learn the identity of this handsome older brother—he was Emperor Gao’s eldest legitimate son, second in line, named Ling. The royal children of this generation had names related to water, symbolizing harmony and virtue.

His courtesy name was Lingye, meaning sun and lightning.

While Emperor Gao and her father sat opposite each other playing chess, Song Ling held her hand and took her to tour the Empress’s garden.

In front of the Empress’s hall was a beautiful garden. It was June at the time, and the begonias had already withered, but a single crape myrtle was in full bloom.

“How coincidental. Mother’s garden only has crape myrtles and begonias. You are ‘wei’ from plants, and my nickname is Atang. When no one is around, call me ‘Atang Gege.’”

Song Ling plucked a cluster of crape myrtle flowers and gave them to her. She pinned them to her hair and, upon returning home, gazed at herself in the bronze mirror affectionately for a long time.

After some time, her father and mother called her to their bedside for a talk. She went wearing the newly made crape myrtle flower hairpin. They looked at her with complex expressions, remaining silent for a long time.

Finally, her father spoke first, gently asking, “Luo Wei, do you like Atang Gege?”

Still innocent and unaware of the implications, she nodded vigorously according to her feelings: “Atang Gege took me to eat snacks, see flowers, release lanterns, taught me to read and ride horses, and even secretly let me touch the little rabbit he raised… He’s very nice, I like him.”

Her mother held her hand and sighed ambiguously.

Her father, however, seemed to have made a decision. The next day, he sent someone to buy a young hibiscus tree sapling.

Su Zhoudu took Luo Wei to personally plant the sapling in the garden, smiling: “Didn’t you always wish to grow up quickly? Look at this little tree. When it grows into a canopy with thousands of branches and blossoms, you will have grown into the person you aspire to be.”

That hibiscus tree grew year after year in front of her window, from the width of a bowl to the size of an embrace. Every birthday, she would tie a red tassel to its branches.

The emerald leaves, crimson tassels, and pink-white buds in full bloom during spring became all her dreams before growing up.

Empress Luo Wei stood beneath the tree, looking up. The red tassels fluttered, making the flowers dance wildly. Before she could rejoice at this beautiful spring scene, she saw the clear sky above the flowering tree shatter and collapse absurdly, piercing and slashing her long-nurtured tree into a pile of broken, withered branches.

The sound of rain under the eaves gradually ceased. Luo Wei woke from her dream, tears streaming down her face.