Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
When the invitation arrived, Song Yao Feng was tending to her garden.
A servant from the main hall brought the note. She washed her hands in a copper basin and, as she walked along the corridor, asked, “Where is my husband?”
The attending maid replied, “The Marquis is speaking with the Grand Tutor.”
Song Yao Feng acknowledged with a sound and opened the invitation. It was personally written by the Empress, inviting her to a small banquet in the imperial palace to celebrate the blooming lotuses on Huiling Lake.
After carefully examining it, she followed the corridor. The maid cautiously asked, “Will Her Highness attend the Empress’s banquet?”
Song Yao Feng responded, “I’ll ask my husband and father-in-law.”
The maid hesitated before continuing, “But wasn’t Her Highness once closest to the Empress…?”
Song Yao Feng cast a glance at her, silencing further comment. After walking a while, her indifferent voice drifted, “We had some camaraderie in our youth, but there were disagreements when she became Empress. We haven’t interacted much since. Now that I’m married, and my father-in-law and the Empress aren’t on good terms, it’s best I stay out of their affairs.”
The maid remained silent.
After Song Lan ascended the throne, Song Yao Feng was granted the title of Princess Shu Kang. However, the new emperor wasn’t her full brother, making her former status as a noble princess somewhat awkward. After two years of mourning, she hastily married Yu Qishi’s second son, Yu Sui’ou.
Since marrying, Song Yao Feng shed her former arrogance, focusing solely on being a devoted wife. Yu Sui’ou had long admired her, even willing to abandon his promising career to marry her. Their marriage was harmonious, never once marred by conflict.
Yet, the maids who had served her since childhood noticed that the princess was entirely different from before.
The sharp edges born from a life of indulgence had been smoothed away, as if they never existed.
Before she crossed the garden, Song Yao Feng saw Yu Sui’ou walking toward her with a look of frustration. Seeing her, he brightened slightly, “Yao Feng!”
She fanned him gently, speaking softly, “What’s the matter?”
Yu Sui’ou exclaimed angrily, “Nothing, just got scolded by Father—do we still have those chilled bowls from noon?”
Song Yao Feng chuckled behind her hand, “I saved some for you. But I have an important matter to attend to. Will you come with me?”
Together, they visited Yu Qishi to pay respects and presented the invitation, asking whether she should attend. Yu Qishi examined the note several times, remarking meaningfully, “It seems Her Majesty hasn’t invited the princess in a long time.”
Song Yao Feng lowered her eyes, replying, “There was a disagreement over my marriage. Youthful affection is fleeting. Since then, we’ve had no contact. I don’t know the purpose of this invitation and must consult the Grand Tutor before deciding.”
Royal princesses address their fathers-in-law as “elder brother.” Song Yao Feng, respectful yet mindful of her royal dignity, like others, addressed Yu Qishi as “Grand Tutor.”
Glancing up slightly, she noticed a green-robed civil official behind Yu Qishi and quickly said, “I seem to have come at an inconvenient time.”
Yu Qishi returned the invitation, saying, “No matter. If the princess wishes to go, she may.”
Song Yao Feng replied, “Very well.”
After they left, Chang Zhao emerged slowly from behind the screen, hearing their fading voices still engaged in intimate conversation.
“What do you plan to do this afternoon?”
“The heat is rising. I don’t feel like doing anything. Husband, read with me in the study.”
“…”
Chang Zhao fell silent for a moment before sighing, “The bond between the Princess and your son is strong.”
Yu Qishi remarked indifferently, “Young love, that’s all.”
Initially, he opposed Yu Sui’ou’s marriage to Song Yao Feng, suspecting ulterior motives. Only after Yu Sui’ou threatened suicide and Song Yao Feng broke ties with the Empress did he relent.
Whether she sought self-preservation or genuinely harbored youthful sentiments, her current confinement to the estate—cut off from Yu family secrets—made him more at ease than if she’d married someone else.
Shortly after Chang Zhao quietly departed through a side gate, Yu Qishi summoned his eldest son, Yu Sui Shan, asking, “That day you accompanied Chang Zhao and Ye San into Feng Le Tower, what did you hear?”
Yu Sui Shan shook his head, “Just what he told Father—things like ‘our hatreds align’ and ‘let’s use each other.’ They whispered a few sentences, and I saw Ye San press his hand to his sword, but I didn’t catch those words.”
Yu Qishi asked, “Don’t you have skilled men who can hear a needle drop?”
Yu Sui Shan replied, “The bells in Feng Le Tower were too loud that day; he couldn’t make it out.”
Yu Qishi pressed his temples, sighing, “You may go.”
•
Before the banquet, Luo Wei visited Xiu Qing Temple.
She often visited Xiu Qing Temple. Though Song Lan approved this trip privately, he dispatched Ye Tingyan with the Jintian Guard to follow discreetly.
The heartfelt emotions displayed that day only deepened his suspicions.
However, this suited her intentions perfectly.
At the end of spring and beginning of summer, Xiu Qing Temple bustled with visitors. Not wishing to draw attention, Luo Wei dressed plainly, perfunctorily paying respects at the three main halls before dismissing the accompanying monks to recite scriptures alone in a familiar meditation room.
This time, she first climbed the temple’s rear mountain, aimlessly wandering among ancient trees and old halls before heading to the meditation room.
As expected, halfway there, she spotted Ye Tingyan standing under a tree by the path, clad in a pale pink scholar’s robe, engrossed in a worn ancient book.
Hearing footsteps, he showed no surprise, “Your Majesty has arrived.”
Luo Wei asked, “What are you reading?”
Ye Tingyan replied, “Some arcane arts claiming to reveal one’s destiny.”
“The I Ching?”
“No.”
Luo Wei examined the book with an unknown author closely, astonished, “Isn’t this astrology studied by the Astronomical Bureau?”
She added, “Studying Daoist practices in a Buddhist temple—aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?”
Ye Tingyan politely responded, “All deities are one family. With sincere heart, all paths understand. Moreover, studying national divination allows me to cast a fortune for Your Majesty. Would you like to hear it?”
Luo Wei smiled, “Alright.”
They descended the mountain path together.
After the Muchun Field incident, they agreed to meet every three days at Gaoyang Terrace. Strangely, since their embrace in the canopy, Ye Tingyan hadn’t made any further advances. At most, he held her hand, whispering recent political calculations.
Perplexed but not questioning, Luo Wei ensured he wasn’t neglected. She subtly praised him to Song Lan and influential courtiers.
The censors disdained the emperor’s close advisors, so Song Lan displayed Ye Tingyan’s essay “On Knowing Pain,” promoting him to be the emperor’s personal tutor in Qiongting.
Though still fifth rank, Ye Tingyan now copied secret edicts, wielding authority akin to third-rank scholars. Additionally, skilled in martial arts, he handled confidential matters, becoming highly favored in court.
Similarly promoted was Chang Zhao, who served as a lecturer in Qiongting, though merely advancing from seventh to sixth rank.
Being somewhat reclusive with few friends, and rarely conversing in the library, Chang Zhao’s modest promotion was less conspicuous compared to Ye Tingyan’s rise.
The censors had long criticized the emperor for favoring Zhuge agents and improperly promoting officials. Ye Tingyan, now closely watched, risked impeachment even for returning late from the palace.
They hadn’t found a chance to meet privately for five days. Luo Wei visited the library and saw him inscribe “countless green peaks in the mist” on a pillar near the entrance.
If they couldn’t meet there, there was always Xiu Qing Temple.
After much deliberation, she decided to leave the palace before hosting the lotus banquet.
Distracted momentarily, Luo Wei realized they had reached the meditation room. She exchanged a glance with Yan Luo, who understood and closed the door behind them.
Ye Tingyan asked for her birth date and time, sat at the desk, and solemnly drew a horoscope on scripture paper: “They say birth dates determine fate. Why does Your Majesty disclose this so freely? Aren’t you afraid I might harbor ill intentions?”
“I don’t believe in these things,” Luo Wei teased, resting her chin on her hand. “Lord Ye is remarkably capable. Without the Longfeng Token, even the Jintian Guard obeys your commands?”
“With a birth chart, one can fix a horoscope. Among the 108 stars in the Ziwei Enclosure, each has its place. So-called ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’ are set at birth. If Your Majesty doesn’t believe, why listen?” Ye Tingyan meticulously plotted the chart, casually responding, “As for the Jintian Guard… Your Majesty flatters me. To see you, I naturally must exert some effort.”
Speaking, he handed her the brush, flipping through his book while pointing to an empty box among the twelve he had drawn: “My skills are lacking; I need to study more. Please assist by adding a stroke.”
Unlike their hurried meetings before, Luo Wei was accustomed to his whimsical ideas. Taking the brush, she wrote “Sun” in the designated house as instructed.
Ye Tingyan turned the page back and forth, scrutinizing it: “Your Majesty’s Marriage Palace… the Sun is fallen.”
“Oh?” Luo Wei, preoccupied with court intrigues, asked nonchalantly, “What does that mean?”
Ye Tingyan seemed startled, his voice dropping: “When the Sun and Ju Men star coincide in fall, it signifies unspoken grievances.”
At this, Luo Wei paused, suddenly looking up at him.
What did he mean by such words? Had he discovered something?
Now a close advisor to Song Lan, if he glimpsed any of her thoughts and informed the emperor, she would face dire consequences.
Ye Tingyan, unusually distracted, didn’t notice her hostility, continuing, “Ju Men is a dark star, residing in the Yin Palace, representing the dimness before dawn. Fortunately, if in the Shen Palace, it would symbolize the darkness of dusk. Moreover, the Sun in this house turns malefic, possibly indicating… harm to one’s husband.”
Her spine chilled, whether from fear or sorrow.
Luo Wei didn’t know whether to fear him uncovering her secrets or commend his accuracy.
Suppressing her trembling lips, she forced a smile: “Queen harming her husband—Lord, shouldn’t you tell His Majesty privately? He believes in astrology. Might this cause him to despise me? Besides, if harm exists, Lord should beware lest he falls victim.”
Ye Tingyan slowly set down his book, avoiding her gaze: “His Majesty is the Son of Heaven, a golden dragon immune to fear. As for me, how could I dare call myself Your Majesty’s husband?”
Head bowed, he casually pulled over the horoscope paper, noticing the word “Sun” she had written, blurting out, “Why don’t you write Lanting and Feibai scripts anymore?”
Luo Wei abruptly stood, knocking over an old stool behind her.
He looked up; she had leaned close.
“I haven’t written those scripts for years. How does Lord know about them?”
Google Sites
Report abuse