Chapter 20: Beyond the Material World (III)

The founding emperor of Da Yin loved hunting, but subsequent generations had focused on literary pursuits over martial ones. The royal hunts were reduced from twice a year to once, and after Emperor Ming pacified the western regions, they were almost completely abolished.

However, with unrest among the northern tribes, the late emperor restored the spring hunt during the Shangsi Festival as a show of power. After Emperor Zhao ascended the throne amidst myriad affairs, he changed the spring hunt to occur in the year following the imperial examinations.

Shangsi was originally a festival for purification rituals and bathing. People often went out together to enjoy the spring and have riverside feasts. Outside Bian Du’s western walls, Jinming Pool and Qingxi were bustling places. To avoid disturbing the common folk’s spring outings, the spring hunt was set at the Muchun Field northeast of the capital.

Muchun Field was built against a mountain called Luyun. Though not tall, it was exquisitely constructed, with winding waters, gardens, racetracks, and pavilions complementing each other beautifully. There weren’t many wild animals; most birds and beasts were bred there, aligning with the original intent of the spring hunt — “sacrifice outweighs killing.”

This year, Qingming and Shangsi were close. Both the Emperor and Empress had been fasting for six days, today being the last. Thus, early morning on the third day of the third lunar month, Luo Wei rose to bathe, then solemnly dressed and adorned herself with orchids. She accompanied the Emperor, consorts, and royal family members. Also present were important court officials, the Emperor’s close aides, and their families.

The procession was grand, taking a full hour to arrive.

During the Qingming sacrifices, Luo Wei dressed simply. But today, for the spring hunt, she wore a flower crown adorned with pearls, a pale yellow ceremonial dress, and jade clasps.

Seeing her, Song Lan was momentarily stunned, his eyes revealing some admiration and nostalgia: “Sister hasn’t worn the flower crown in a long time, and such colors are rare. I remember you used to love wearing peach and lotus pinks.”

She naturally loved pink when she was young; those colors were fragrant, elegant, sweet, and gentle, reflecting her bright teenage heart.

Now, things have changed. Since Song Ling’s death, she never wore those colors again.

So Luo Wei smiled and didn’t reply, just held hands with him, offering wine and blessings at the main platform of Muchun Field.

With the ceremony complete, everyone dispersed to enjoy themselves.

Only the close relatives near the Emperor dared not move recklessly.

The late Emperor had seven sons; Song Lan was the sixth. The youngest prince, Song Kuo of Xiaoxiang, was born a few years before the assassination case and was still under ten.

Of the previous five, two died, one was stationed at the frontier, another in a fiefdom. Today, only the carefree fourth prince—now titled Prince Lin Yang—was present.

Prince Lin Yang was young and childless, making the royal family appear somewhat thin and pitiable.

But Song Lan never cared about these things.

After exhausting ceremonies the other day, and having disliked riding and archery since childhood, he didn’t plan to participate today. He brought Luo Wei and Consort Yu Suiyun to sit on the platform and first called over Prince Lin Yang to ask about his well-being.

Though older than Song Lan, Prince Lin Yang witnessed his family scattered, leaving him somewhat fearful of the young emperor. His speech was timid and hesitant.

Song Lan found it boring after a few words and waved him away. Relieved, he quickly returned to the arms of the few concubines he brought along.

Shortly after, Ye Tingyan came up to pay respects. Seeing a new pair of horse reins in his hand, Song Lan was quite interested: “Tingyan, are you going down to the field today? I thought your old neck injury hadn’t healed yet, so I assumed you wouldn’t be able.”

Ye Tingyan glanced at Luo Wei from the corner of his eye and respectfully replied: “Thank you for Your Majesty’s concern. My old injury indeed hasn’t healed, but seeing the beautiful spring, I still plan to bind my sleeves and stroll through the forest. Muchun Field is magnificent, and today I finally get to see it, so I must have some fun.”

Song Lan laughed: “Go ahead then.”

Ye Tingyan acknowledged and turned to leave, coincidentally meeting Yu Qiushi. Seeing him, Yu Qiushi’s smile froze slightly, but he said, “Lord Ye, the horseback can be bumpy. Be careful.”

Ye Tingyan put on a grateful expression: “Thank you, Grand Tutor, for your concern.”

After he left, Yu Qiushi paid respects according to protocol and sat near the Emperor, chatting casually with Consort Yu Suiyun.

Though appearing humble, he occasionally glanced at Luo Wei intentionally or unintentionally. Finding it amusing, Luo Wei guessed he had something to discuss with Song Lan and took the opportunity to excuse herself: “Your Majesty, I want to tour the forest. I’ll go change clothes first.”

Song Lan was delighted: “Sister wants to go hunting?”

He seemed to want to join her but hesitated, turning back to look. Seeing Yu Qiushi’s grave expression, he realized the other had matters to discuss, leaving him conflicted.

Luo Wei answered: “I’m also tired and might not be able to hunt for a while. I just saw some friends and siblings from my youth and want to ride horses with them and catch up.”

Song Lan felt a bit disappointed but also relieved: “Then go, Sister. Lady Feng, take good care of her.”

“Feng” was Yanluo’s false surname. Upon hearing this, she immediately clasped her hands: “Yes.”

Luo Wei smiled reassuringly: “Don’t feel regretful, Your Majesty. Didn’t Marquis Fengping say he would host an archery competition with a famous sword as the prize? The competition is set for two hours from now. When I return, I will enter the field and win a sword for Your Majesty.”

Jade Suiyun winked at her teasingly, looking disdainful—she had never liked such activities, even riding horses poorly, so naturally, she had no chance to show off today.

She was always like that, endearing in her own way. While Song Lan wasn’t paying attention, Luo Wei playfully raised an eyebrow at Jade Suiyun, unsure if the latter misunderstood her meaning. After a moment of confusion, Jade Suiyun suddenly became sulky and turned to Song Lan: “Your Majesty, I want to learn horse riding too!”

Song Lan was bewildered: “You’ve never liked these…”

Jade Suiyun angrily declared: “I like it now!”

Conveniently, both Song Lan and Yu Qiushi wanted to avoid discussing matters with her, so they agreed. Luo Wei and Jade Suiyun went their separate ways. First, Luo Wei removed her flower crown, leaving only a gold hairpin, and changed into her usual navy-blue attire paired with vermilion horse reins, looking more spirited than buried in lavish clothing.

Yanluo removed the pearl from her forehead and sighed: “Your Majesty hasn’t ridden a horse in a long time.”

Luo Wei squinted, seemingly recalling some fond memories, a smile blossoming at the corners of her lips: “Not just me. Once, by Jinming Pool, you rode a horse and beat me in a race. Only then did I realize you weren’t just a bookish lady who loved poetry and music but someone I could relate to more.”

Yanluo softly said: “Your Majesty still remembers.”

Luo Wei grasped her hand, looked around, and whispered: “Though you said there was no need to pay respects, I know your heart—change into ordinary palace attire and go west a hundred steps from here. I’ve prepared a good horse for you. Take my token and claim you have business to attend to. Leave Muchun Field heading north; in half an hour, you’ll reach the unnamed tomb on that mountain to pay respects. With so many people today, no one will question you.”

Yanluo was surprised for a moment, muttering: “... What about Your Majesty?”

Luo Wei replied: “I have matters to attend to today, so I don’t need you to follow. Go.”

Thus, Yanluo immediately took the token, bowed to her, and without saying another word, turned and left—they both knew further refusal would only waste time.

Luo Wei rode alone on a white steed, forbidding any palace attendants to follow. She quietly passed by where the ladies of the inner chambers were chatting, then moved past the younger generation engaging in arrow throwing, archery, and literary discussions, circling to the rear of Luyun Mountain.

Although it was sunny today, it was not yet noon, and dew still clung to the leaves in the forest, smelling fresh and pleasant.

This place was rarely visited, but cheers could still be heard from afar. Hunters roamed the dense forest at the foot of the mountain, occasionally shouting excitedly, “Got it! Got it!”

One side was noisy, the other silent, creating a strange sensation that relaxed Luo Wei’s mind.

She used to love热闹, but in recent years, she increasingly preferred solitude, perhaps because she carried too much in her heart.

She slowly rode for a while, then suddenly spotted a vivid red rose in a wild patch by the roadside—the first bloom of the year in a thorny black bush.

Luo Wei stared at it for a moment, unable to resist dismounting and approaching. She reached out to pluck the flower.

Holding the flower in one hand and the reins in the other, she was startled when she heard the sound of hooves hitting the ground echoing through the woods before the flower had even warmed in her hand.

Surprised, she turned to look, not catching a glimpse of the rider’s face before a red steed rushed past like the wind. The rider leaned slightly forward, swiftly snatching the flower she had just picked.

“Whoa—”

He reined in the horse, turned around, and quickly tucked the flower into his hair. Luo Wei had already guessed it was him, but his brazen act still shocked her. She gritted her teeth and called out: “Ye Tingyan!”

Ye Tingyan had already shed the crimson official robes he wore earlier and changed into a wide-sleeved robe with a pale pink floral pattern on a light base. For convenience while riding, he removed his official hat and simply tied his hair. The flower Luo Wei had just held was now tucked into his bun.

Scholars in Da Yin favored elegance, and many wore pink and adorned flowers in their hair. However, Luo Wei was accustomed to seeing Ye Tingyan in his meticulous official attire, so this state caught her off guard.

Hearing her scold, Ye Tingyan calmly rode over, circling her once, and brazenly said: “I thank Her Majesty for the flower.”

His wide sleeves fluttered in the wind, brushing against her shoulders.

For some reason, though he had held the reins earlier, he was not wearing them now.

Coming back to her senses, Luo Wei was about to make a sarcastic remark when she noticed the pale pink floral pattern on his robe was shaped like lotuses. Ye Tingyan noticed her gaze and deliberately shook his sleeves, smiling: “Her Majesty said I didn’t deserve such a pure thing. Now, does Her Majesty see? Doesn’t it suit me?”

Luo Wei clicked her tongue and mounted her horse: “Sir, you ride without reins on one side yet carry a bow and arrows. Truly a silver-plated spearhead. Such fine featherwood arrows are wasted on you.”

Suddenly, she shouted loudly, “Go!” Leaning forward, she spurred her horse and snatched his bow and arrows. Ye Tingyan was momentarily stunned and chased after her on horseback, riding alongside her.

He glanced sideways and saw Luo Wei’s relaxed brows, a few strands of loose hair fluttering across her cheeks in the wind. It seemed she hadn’t ridden so fast in years. Her current expression reminded him of the days they once hunted together at Muchun Field.

He had personally taught her archery and carefully selected her first pony. He led the young girl’s horse, strolling carefree on the mountain paths. Back then, the breeze was light, the sun warm, the sky blue, and the endless spring seemed to stretch forever. She called out to him on horseback, “Second Brother, Second Brother,” her voice filled with laughter, her expression gentle.

Unexpectedly, this brief distraction caused Luo Wei to suddenly pull hard on her horse, falling behind him. Coming back to his senses, Ye Tingyan stopped his horse like hers, just turning back when he saw Luo Wei coldly raising the bow and arrow in her hand towards him.

The bowstring was fully drawn, aimed directly at his forehead—he truly intended to shoot that arrow.

Ye Tingyan stared at her, feeling a familiar, chilling pain in his heart. This pain rendered him immobile, even unwilling to dodge.

The wind rustled through the leaves, and the taut string between them emitted a faint, trembling hum.