#28: Pure White, Unprepared (IV)

When summer deepened, the banana plants in the garden of Zishan Hall grew lush and vibrant, their emerald leaves glistening with dew. Near the windows, faint traces of ink could still be seen on a few of the broad leaves.

Luo Wei had changed into a light blue blouse and was skipping ahead of Song Ling, carrying a food box in her hand.

During the spring tour, Song Ling had gifted her a fine sword, which delighted her immensely. She had pestered General Yan, who accompanied them, to teach her how to wield it. After finally mastering the basics, she was eager to show off her skills to Song Ling. However, something had displeased him, and he ignored her for three whole days. Today, he had finally deigned to approach her first, and Luo Wei, having personally prepared chilled cherry syrup in an ice bowl, managed to appease him.

Afterward, they remembered that Song Lan had yet to visit since coming to Zishan Hall, so they prepared another bowl and went to find him.

Song Lan had changed into a clean black scholar’s robe, its edges revealing a pristine white undergarment. He wore a headscarf and, lacking the assistance of eunuchs, carried a small book satchel on his back as he slowly made his way toward the lecture hall.

Spotting him, Luo Wei was about to call out when Song Ling grabbed her by the nape and pulled her back.

Confused, she followed his gaze and saw the fifth prince, Song Qi, adorned in gold and jade, suddenly appear and angrily block Song Lan’s path.

Song Lan, gripping the strap of his satchel, softly called out: “Fifth Brother.”

Before he could finish, Song Qi lashed out with a kick, landing squarely on Song Lan’s chest. Caught off guard, Song Lan cried out in pain and fell backward.

The satchel hit the steps, scattering its contents across the ground.

Song Qi furiously shouted: “How dare you—”

Though not close enough to hear the rest, Luo Wei watched as Song Lan was kicked so hard his face turned pale. She immediately tried to intervene, but Song Ling held her back, his expression cold as he listened to their exchange.

Clutching his chest, Song Lan muttered something, further enraging Song Qi, who knocked over the satchel Song Lan had just picked up: “Your birth is ominous, and your mother is a lowly concubine confined to Lanxun Garden! That Father and Second Brother allow you here is already a great mercy! Yet you still act so presumptuously, deliberately…”

As he moved to strike again, Song Ling casually flicked the iron imperial token from his waist, striking Song Qi’s wrist.

Still fuming, Song Qi caught the token mid-air and turned to scold: “Who dares—”

Halfway through, he noticed who it was and quickly corrected himself, stammering nervously: “S-second Brother.”

Luo Wei rushed to help Song Lan up. Approaching them, Song Ling coldly said: “Bullying your younger brother and speaking insolently—you’ve forgotten all the teachings of our tutors and masters?”

Song Qi muttered, head bowed: “Brother doesn’t know—it was this brat who…”

Song Ling interrupted: “How should you address your sibling?”

Song Qi quickly amended: “Yes, Second Brother, I admit my mistake.”

He shot a pleading glance at Luo Wei, who raised an eyebrow, signaling there was nothing she could do. Though mischievous and unruly, Song Qi wasn’t inherently malicious, and even she was startled by his behavior today.

Song Ling ordered Song Qi to apologize, but the latter stubbornly refused. After a prolonged standoff, Song Lan finally spoke: “It’s alright, Brother. It was my fault.”

Glaring at him, Song Qi reluctantly backed down. Seeing no resolution, Song Ling commanded: “Go to Shenjie Hall to receive your punishment.”

“Yes,” Song Qi replied, bowing before storming off in anger.

Watching his retreating figure, Luo Wei sighed: “Qi usually isn’t like this. What happened between you two?”

Song Lan, however, remained silent. Brushing off the dust, he respectfully bowed to them: “Thank you, Brother and Sister, for protecting me.”

Later, Song Ling learned that during the three months Song Lan had been at Zishan Hall, he had been largely ostracized, often teased by Song Qi. Despite this, he persisted in attending lectures daily, never complaining.

Seeing that no one cared for him, Song Ling assigned Liu Xi, a senior attendant, to look after him. Liu Xi, being diligent and responsible, took excellent care of Song Lan.

From then on, Song Lan became closely associated with Song Ling, following him around Zishan Hall.

Whenever Luo Wei brought novelties from outside the palace for the princes and princesses, she always gave Song Lan an extra share. Privately, she would summon him and earnestly remind him: “If anything troubles you, Zi Lan, tell us. With me and Brother Atang here, no one will bully you.”

Uncomfortable accepting gifts without reciprocation, Song Lan offered dried plum blossoms he had collected in Lanxun Garden. Feeling embarrassed by the modest gift, he hid behind a begonia tree, refusing to come out.

Only after hearing her words did he happily respond: “Sister and Brother are truly the best people in the world.”

…

Looking up at the plum trees, tears unexpectedly streamed down Luo Wei’s face.

Song Lan knew she was reminiscing about Song Ling and felt displeased but couldn’t say anything. Suppressing his emotions, he finally gently pulled her into his arms.

Leaning on his shoulder, Luo Wei heard his soft voice: “Vivi, don’t be sad. I’m here with you.”

At that moment, Luo Wei realized he must be suffering immensely—not because of old memories or her sorrow, but because he, the perpetrator, couldn’t flaunt his triumph before her.

He had never called Song Ling “Second Brother,” always addressing him formally as “Brother.” Now, he wouldn’t even utter the word “Brother” in her presence.

With a sense of vindictive satisfaction, Luo Wei let her tears flow more freely. Finally, embracing him, she mournfully said: “Next time we leave the palace, we must visit Tinghua Terrace again.”

The hand Song Lan rested on her shoulder gripped her painfully, but she found pleasure in his anger.

“Alright.”

As they left, Luo Wei glanced back at the desolate Lanxun Garden.

After Song Lan ascended the throne, his mother moved out, and no one else ever resided there again. Song Lan ordered the palace gate beside Lanxun Garden sealed, leaving only the plum grove and a few idle servants to tend to it.

Wiping away her tears, she silently cursed herself.

Perhaps Song Lan would never know that her tears had once flowed for him—for his pure innocence fading away. But those tears mingled with her nostalgic grief, indistinguishable from one another.

The boy hiding behind the begonia tree was gone forever.

Or perhaps he now understood the vastness of the world, yet bore the weight of withered grass and trees.

•

That day, after lingering in Lanxun Garden with Song Lan, Luo Wei returned to Qionghua Hall to hear that Song Lan had summoned Ye Tingyan to the study behind Qianfang Hall.

She and Yan Luo set up a chessboard and speculated on his intentions.

Yan Luo chuckled: “Her Majesty suddenly instructed the ministers in the Hall of State Affairs to send the Emperor to the Imperial Ancestral Temple. Unable to refuse, he naturally suspected Her Majesty’s motives. Summoning trusted aides ensures there’s a watchful eye in the palace.”

Pausing, she clicked her tongue: “However, it’s likely not just one pair of eyes. I’m curious—though Lord Ye is a civil official, he hails from a military family. If the Emperor favors him further, might he join Zhuque?”

“Absolutely not,” Luo Wei firmly denied, placing a black piece on the board. “He’s far more useful than Zhuque. The imperial examinations may elevate scholars from humble backgrounds, but these days, who among them isn’t courted by factions or aligned with noble families before the exams? A clean, loyal minister untainted by connections is worth more than gold. After Grand Tutor Yu, Song Lan desperately needs such a talent he can personally cultivate.”

Yan Luo asked: “What about Scholar Chang Zhao…?”

Luo Wei shook her head: “Song Lan excels in the art of balance. How could he place all his bets on one person? Moreover, without Chang Zhao, relying solely on Ye Tingyan might raise doubts about the protection during the Muchun Field incident. Inadvertently, Chang Zhao has actually helped Ye Tingyan.”

Yan Luo listened thoughtfully.

They played the game to its conclusion before she softly asked: “Her Majesty’s actions in the Hall of State Affairs—are they not too risky? Before Ye Tingyan appeared, you weren’t this impatient. Are you so confident he can defeat the Grand Tutor?”

Luo Wei tightly closed her eyes, then reopened them, smiling: “The time has come; some things must be done. If he fails, we’ll simply replace the piece. I’m more concerned that his move against the Grand Tutor might be too swift, forcing me into a direct confrontation before I’m ready. Comparatively, the latter seems more terrifying.”

•

Three days later, the Emperor approved a pilgrimage to the ancestral temple to pray for rain. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Punishments were still embroiled in arguments over the assassination at Muchun Field. Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao had already identified those to be held accountable from both provinces, six ministries, and the palace guards. However, whether Lin Zhao or the horse trainer was the assassin remained unresolved.

The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Punishments passed the buck, unwilling to make a definitive judgment. Consequently, the public trial was postponed repeatedly until Song Lan, growing weary, ordered the detainees kept in custody until his return from the pilgrimage.

This move gave Luo Wei some insight.

By entrusting Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao, along with Zhuque, with oversight and delaying the release, Song Lan clearly believed the Lin family wasn’t innocent in the assassination.

Even if Lin Zhao were innocent, Song Lan likely intended to deal with the Lin family slowly upon his return from praying for rain. The treasury was in dire straits. Earlier, Luo Wei had deliberately exaggerated the losses during the deliberations in the Hall of State Affairs through Zhang Pingjing. Combined with Ye Tingyan’s hints about the Lin family’s immense wealth, this had indeed piqued Song Lan’s interest.

The fall of the Lin family wouldn’t just sever one of Yu Qiushi’s key allies but also sow seeds of discontent among others.

A single spark could ignite a prairie fire.

Meanwhile, Song Lan, kneeling at the ancestral temple outside the palace, reviewed Ye Tingyan’s reports after several days. To his surprise, Luo Wei showed no unusual activity. During these days, aside from attending meetings at Qianfang Hall with Yu Qiushi and others, she hadn’t even left Qionghua Hall.

Setting aside Ye Tingyan’s report, he reviewed those from Chang Zhao and Liu Mingzhong, receiving identical responses. To avoid suspicion, Luo Wei had reduced her outings even further, neither meeting with external ministers nor seizing any suspicious opportunities.

Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao each visited Qionghua Hall once. When Luo Wei received them, their conversations lasted less than an incense stick’s burn before she sent them on their way.

Slowly burning the letter in his hand, Song Lan inwardly concluded that his recent anxiety had been unfounded.

Luo Wei approving the Ministry of Rites’ request for him to leave the palace to pray for rain might have simply been for the sake of his reputation.

Ten days passed in the blink of an eye. Upon returning to the palace via the market streets, Song Lan appeared thinner. Though Jiangnan still hadn’t seen rain, everyone praised the young emperor’s benevolence as a sign of a wise ruler.

Thus reassured, he sought out Luo Wei upon his return. Their intimate moments unfolded as usual, and she remained gentle and considerate, gradually easing his concerns.

The hall was filled with the rich scent of incense, nearing the hour of the morning court. Startled by approaching footsteps, Luo Wei draped a thin veil over herself and went to inquire. Returning, she calmly announced: “Minister Zhang Pingjing is unwell.”

Zhang Pingjing, an elder statesman and friend of Su Zhoudu, had always appeared vigorous despite secretly battling a terminal illness.

His condition worsened suddenly, forcing him to acknowledge it.

The next day, Luo Wei left the palace to visit Zhang’s residence.

To her surprise, Zhang had kept Ye Tingyan nearby for a conversation. Hearing of her arrival, he suddenly claimed fatigue and dismissed Ye Tingyan, instructing him to wait with Luo Wei in the front hall.

Outside Zhang’s sickbed lay a dim courtyard. The servants had withdrawn to avoid disturbing the imperial visit, and Luo Wei dismissed her own attendants. Opening the conversation, she asked: “When did you and Lord Zhang meet?”

Ye Tingyan blinked and replied: “Just now.”

Without waiting for her response, he continued: “After ten days apart, I didn’t expect it to be harder to see Your Highness while the Emperor was away.”

Luo Wei murmured wistfully: “Lord Ye need not worry. This time, His Majesty sought you, Zhuque, and others to monitor me, finding nothing. Next time, he won’t bother.”

Ye Tingyan bowed sincerely, feigning admiration: “Your Highness’s strategy of concealment is masterful. I am deeply impressed.”

Too lazy to engage in verbal sparring, Luo Wei ignored him and directly asked: “Tomorrow is the public trial at the Ministry of Justice. Regardless of the outcome, it’s certain that Marquis Fengping will be implicated. However, I’m curious—His Majesty was swayed by Marquis Fengping’s wealth. What explanation will you give for the assassination? Have you prepared your justification?”

Ye Tingyan toyed with the white jade ring on his finger, then looked up and smiled at her, speaking leisurely: “As for the explanation…”

Leaning closer, his fragrance intensified: “I seem to have neglected preparation. If my plan falters tomorrow and I’m dragged down with it, Your Highness… will you save my life?”