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It was vaguely reminiscent of many years ago, on the seventeenth night, though not during the Lantern Festival but two days after the Mid-Autumn Festival.
On that moonlit night of reunion, Duke Yue celebrated his grand birthday.
That day, he seemed somewhat downcast. Now, recalling it, it was surprisingly clear.
Not long before that day, Lu Hang, known for his virtue in court, encountered Xue Wenming, who held different political views, on his way home. Their disagreement led to reckless words at Lide Gate, which were then reported by Xue Wenming’s faction.
To appease the censors, Emperor Gao exiled Lu Hang to Yinzhou as governor.
Lu Hang and his teacher Fang Hezhi were old friends. When he submitted a memorial to refute this decision, he was rebuked. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, after a palace banquet, he confronted Emperor Gao on the Zui Feng Terrace.
He asked, “Why are you determined to exile Lu Hang?”
Emperor Gao retorted, “If you were regent now, what would you do?”
Su Zhoudu once remarked that he had never seen such harmonious father-son relations as between him and Emperor Gao, likely because Emperor Gao was too soft-hearted.
He didn’t understand the praise or criticism in those words until much later.
Since ancient times, being the Crown Prince has been difficult. Perhaps his position as heir was too smooth.
Su Zhoudu and Song Rongxiao were similar people, perhaps taught by their elders or influenced by the sages’ texts. Even when he saw underlying concerns, he didn’t have the heart to point them out.
They naively believed that the prosperity of the Mingtai era would last for sixty or seventy years, and these concerns would remain hidden like the waves beneath the surface of previous dynasties.
Back then, Song Ling couldn’t think of this layer. Faced with his father’s question, he answered without hesitation: “Lu Hang’s misstep was caused by Xue Wenming allowing his son to embezzle wealth in Jiangnan. Who is right or wrong, Father should know better than I.”
Emperor Gao replied, “You say Xue Wenming indulged his son, but do you have evidence? Do you have any leverage?”
Evidence and leverage naturally existed, but they were still fragmented. He had only sorted through half of the Huaihai officialdom. To find strong witnesses and material evidence, more time was needed.
The moon cast shifting shadows of flowers. Distant music drifted from the palace behind them. Emperor Gao clasped his hands behind his back and said indifferently, “Xue Wenming provoked Lu Hang into reckless speech at Lide Gate. Why did it cause such an uproar in the court? Ultimately, Lu Hang has a good reputation and is loyal. It is precisely because of this that his misconduct will be scrutinized more harshly by the public—Second Son, don’t underestimate the power of public opinion. It is the most intangible yet deadliest weapon that kills without bloodshed. Xue Wenming fanned this incident clearly not intending to let Lu Hang off easily. If I hadn’t exiled him, how would he face this blade?”
Song Ling was startled: “Must a gentleman only endure and retreat when faced with the blades of villains? Are these deliberately manufactured public opinions so important that they cannot be changed?”
“Naturally, there are ways, but you must wait,” Emperor Gao decisively replied. He wanted to say more, but a sudden gust of wind interrupted him. He sighed, softened his tone, and said, “What does the word ‘public opinion’ mean—Heaven creates a single chariot within its mechanism. This mechanism can be wielded by villains or gentlemen. Whether it can be used depends on whether you can master this path.”
He turned back to the feast. Song Ling took two steps forward, unwillingly saying, “How can this still be called ‘the path’? Clearly, it is ‘technique’, ‘power’—Lu Hang didn’t act because he despised it, and I—I also disdain it!”
Emperor Gao looked up at the moon, pausing his steps.
“Second Son, I’ve told you many times—you are too young. What is technique, what is power, is not just about disdain. Moreover, he can disdain it, but you—cannot.”
He flicked his sleeve and left, leaving behind the words: “Both your teachers are close friends of Lu Hang. Go learn from them.”
Busy with court affairs, Song Ling hadn’t found the opportunity yet. He couldn’t figure out the meaning of those words and was gloomy for two consecutive days.
On the seventeenth day, the old Duke Yue held a grand banquet. For appearances, he attended, dismissing the servants to wander alone in the Duke’s residence.
Luo Wei loved热闹 and naturally came too. However, after walking around twice, he hadn’t seen her and didn’t know where she went.
Song Ling walked along the stone path until he reached the end, where he saw two people drinking in a pavilion.
One was Lu Hang, and the other was Qiu Fang, the current Chief Censor. Both were heavily intoxicated, reciting poetry to each other.
Lu Hang alternated between crying and laughing, singing a verse: “For trivial fame and petty profit, why bother so much... Everything is predetermined, who is weak and who is strong? While my body is still free and unaged, let me indulge a little recklessness. In a hundred years, let it all be drunkenness, thirty-six thousand revels!”
Qiu Fang drunkenly clinked cups with him: “Reflecting. How much can it bear, the sorrows and storms, half obstructed, why insist on debating right and wrong to death?”
Moved by the mix of sorrow and detachment in their words, he intended to join them for a drink. Unexpectedly, two young girls suddenly ran over from another side.
One wore apricot-pink attire—it was Luo Wei, whom he hadn’t seen tonight. The other wore light purple, scolding before nearing, “Father, you’re drunk again!”
Qiu Fang turned to see his daughter coming, laughed heartily, and continued reciting: “Fortunately, facing the clear breeze and bright moon, the moss spreads, the cloud canopy rises high! Jiangnan is beautiful, thousands of cups of fine wine, a melody Full Courtyard Fragrance!” [1]
From afar, Luo Wei spotted him. She wanted to call out but refrained to avoid spoiling their revelry. Taking advantage of Qiu Xueyu’s conversation with Qiu Fang and Lu Hang, she lifted her skirt and stealthily ran over, bumping into his arms: “Prince Brother!”
Song Ling steadied himself, realizing he had acted too impulsively. If he approached, Lu and Qiu would lose their carefree demeanor in front of the Crown Prince.
Not wanting to spoil their refined mood, he turned with Luo Wei and walked away. Seeing him silent, Luo Wei asked, “Why are you unhappy? I’m very happy today; I’ve met many new friends…”
“Vivi,” he interrupted her, “Do you know the meaning of the verses sung by Lord Lu and Lord Qiu?”
Seeing he still hadn’t cheered up, Luo Wei blinked, immediately erased the playful expression on her face, and solemnly said, “This is Su Zizhan’s poem. Lord Lu said that the scheming in court is trivial, and it’s better to get thoroughly drunk. Lord Qiu continued, saying that half of life is filled with worries, no need to speak much. Tonight we see the moon, tomorrow we see Jiangnan, wine songs harmonizing, that is life’s joy.”
Before Song Ling could respond, Luo Wei suddenly changed her address, smilingly saying, “Second Brother, you don’t need to pity them, nor envy Jiangnan—we are all in the palm of the universe. As stars shift, as long as we share the same path, we will meet again.”
These memories awoke along with the lyrics hummed by the woman before him in her daze. The confusion and fear towards manipulation and power from back then, the unclear understanding of ‘public opinion,’ the friend’s moonlit drinking, the lover’s gentle comprehension and tacit agreement…
Ye Tingyan didn’t know why he thought of these seemingly unrelated things here, perhaps because the surroundings were so dark and his heart condition remained severe, causing deep delusions.
He casually picked up a gleaming dagger from the table, wiped it carefully with a cloth, hoping to distract himself.
Yet, his voice betrayed no hint of panic, only nonchalance: “Your father was Chief Censor Qiu Fang?”
Yanluo showed no reaction, continuing to sing her tune repeatedly.
Ye Tingyan suddenly asked, “Do you want to live?”
Yanluo finally came to her senses, slowly raising her head. Seeing it was him, she tugged at the corners of her mouth: “Lord Ye.”
She seemed to recognize his voice only then.
Ye Tingyan said, “Your Empress wants you to live.”
Yanluo murmured, “Doesn’t she know I came to the palace to kill her?”
Ye Tingyan didn’t reply but inwardly praised.
A fine pair of master and servant, a great duo of old friends.
When Vermilion Bird interrogated someone without torture, they placed the person in pitch-black, sunless cells, cutting off food and water, only administering life-sustaining medicine when necessary. Forget twelve hours a day; even three or four hours in a place devoid of sound and light could drive someone mad.
Though he had instructed leaving a candle for Yanluo, its light was minimal. Yanluo had endured half a day in this dark place, disoriented. Yet, upon hearing this mention from Luo Wei’s “close minister,” she still resisted pleading, insisting on her previous statement that she entered the palace to kill her.
Yuan Ming returned from the door, whispering to him, “As instructed, I withheld the information Vermilion Bird uncovered about this woman entering the palace. Please review it.”
Half of the Vermilion Bird guards personally chosen by Song Lan were ruthless officials trusted from the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate. The other half were loyal elites from the Gold Sky Guards, Left and Right Lin Guards, and the Imperial Army. These people were accustomed to the imperial city, adept at gathering intelligence and handling confidential matters swiftly.
Yanluo was captured in the morning, and by nightfall, all related information was in his hands.
Ye Tingyan unfolded the report from Vermilion Bird, astonished to find no trace of Luo Wei in all matters involving her entry into the palace.
No wonder the two of them could maintain the same story, refusing to budge.
After meticulously planning the assassination on the Lantern Festival night, Song Lan chose Song Qi as the scapegoat and eliminated several ministers who had been close to him—he maintained a virtuous image but adhered strictly to rules, rarely associating with courtiers.
Thus, few were particularly close to him—Su Zhoudu was dead, Fang Hezhi had retired to his hometown in the second year of Tianshou and hadn’t returned, Zhang Pingjing and others were neutral in court, thus escaping disaster.
Most of his close associates were upright ministers like Lu Hang, such as the incorruptible Chief Censor Qiu Fang of those days.
Among the three main culprits of the Citang Case, Liu Fuliang was a student promoted by Qiu Fang, seemingly engaged to Qiu Xueyu initially.
Therefore, the entire Qiu family was implicated.
Only Qiu Xueyu changed her name and entered the inner palace.
Within a day, Vermilion Bird investigated everyone possibly involved and compiled this report. After reading it carefully, Ye Tingyan discovered that Qiu Xueyu’s entry into the palace seemed entirely unrelated to Luo Wei.
Those involved over the years had been reassigned or sent out of the palace for various reasonable reasons. The remaining few weren’t primary handlers, stammering unclearly, but it was certain that it had nothing to do with the newly established Empress Dowager—Luo Wei hadn’t yet secured her footing in the palace. If she risked protecting Qiu Xueyu, traces would inevitably remain.
So whose traces among the palace powers were erased?
If Vermilion Bird couldn’t find any traces of Luo Wei’s involvement within the inner palace, then their consistent story made perfect sense—Qiu Xueyu and Luo Wei were friends, and when her family fell, she sought Luo Wei’s help but was refused. Later, under coincidental circumstances, she was anonymously sent into the palace by someone unfavorable to the Empress. After a full year in the palace, doing numerous menial tasks in Qionghua Palace, she was noticed by the Empress and gradually promoted to a close position.
After gaining the Empress’s trust, Qiu Xueyu planned to harm the Empress. Frustrated by her meticulous diet and martial skills, she couldn’t find a foolproof method, thus enduring silently.
Until the spring hunt of Muchun Field, she returned from going out and realized her identity might be exposed, leading her to take a desperate gamble, stabbing Luo Wei with a hairpin while she was still drowsy in the early morning.
Yu Qiushi learned of Yanluo’s identity that day of the spring hunt but endured the Lin family affair and the dirt Luo Wei threw at him with False Dragon Chant . He waited for the perfect opportunity to replace it with “Tinghua has grievances,” catching her off guard.
Thus, Song Lan assumed Luo Wei deliberately exposed past events to overthrow Yu Qiushi, escalating the conflict, completely disregarding the emperor’s reputation.
At this point, revealing Yanluo’s identity would naturally attribute the False Dragon Chant and copper cup incidents to the Empress.
Unfortunately, Yu Qiushi was too arrogant, giving him time to discover this matter.
Upon receiving this news, Luo Wei had Yanluo stab her with a hairpin, rendering this trump card instantly ineffective.
Although their consistent stories had numerous suspicious points, there was ultimately no evidence—the Empress had shifted from protecting a criminal’s daughter to becoming a victim. As long as both parties persisted, Vermilion Bird’s report would conclude accordingly.
Song Lan’s overnight secret interrogation aimed to determine if Luo Wei had intervened. If not, who sent her into the palace?
Ye Tingyan’s initial solution was to make the two turn against each other. Unaware of Yanluo’s thoughts, he worried that under extreme pressure, she might expose his relationship with Luo Wei.
That would be handing the knife to Luo Wei’s neck himself, an extremely risky move he wouldn’t dare make.
There were other methods.
But before he could implement them, the assassination occurred. After capturing her, his urgent task during the secret meeting with Luo Wei was to ask one crucial question—how deep was their current bond?
If Yanluo and Luo Wei merely had a mutually beneficial relationship, he would immediately eliminate this confidante who knew too much.
If both could steadfastly deny everything, he could devise a plan to implicate someone else for sending Yanluo into the inner palace, turning the tables.
However, Yanluo’s life would be hard to preserve regardless.
Yet, Luo Wei’s request was simply to keep her alive for three days.
Ye Tingyan gazed at Yanluo on the rack, recalling the purple-clad woman from that moonlit night.
Qiu Fang’s ancestral home was in Jiangnan. Was she longing for her homeland while humming this song in her stupor?
Longing for the day when her parents, growing old, would leave Biandu safely, take her back to Jiangnan, drink copious amounts of fine wine, and sing Full Courtyard Fragrance ?
Alas, our homelands were already caught in storms.
Ye Tingyan suddenly took a deep breath.
He finally understood why he recalled that seventeenth day of August—back then, so young, he had the courage to argue with his father over a possible return from exile, defiantly proclaiming on the Zui Feng Terrace that gentlemen uphold morality and always disdain manipulating public opinion.
But what was in his heart now?
Though he didn’t recognize the person before him, upon realizing she was the daughter of an old friend, his mind wasn’t filled with nostalgia or grief for the departed, but quickly calculated how to utilize her identity.
Had he not heard this Full Courtyard Fragrance , he would have been utterly consumed by the darkness he once despised.
After a hundred years, as stars shift, would his path still encounter old friends?
“Master?”
Yuan Ming called him, and Ye Tingyan realized he had been wiping the sharp dagger, unknowingly breaking out in cold sweat.
“Mosheng,” Ye Tingyan steadied himself, speaking softly, “You go out first.”
Yuan Ming complied and withdrew. After sensing his departure, Yanluo on the rack laboriously raised her head, weakly asking, “Did she say anything else?”
Apparently, she was wary of Yuan Ming beside him in Vermilion Bird colors.
Ye Tingyan shook his head, “Nothing else.”
“What about you?” Yanluo spoke haltingly, “When I was near death in Huiling Lake, I realized it was you who sent people to capture me, so I fought to survive—Lord Ye, you and Her Majesty share the same enemies. Can… I become your knife?”
Ye Tingyan looked up at her, finding her eyes extraordinarily bright in the night.
“Lord Ye is most skilled at wielding knives. You should know that Her Majesty’s foolishness means my life is forfeit, so why waste effort on fruitless endeavors?”
She lowered her eyes, whispering many things in his ear—during the half-day in Vermilion Bird custody, she hadn’t wasted time, almost calculating everything.
Yanluo wasn’t exceptionally intelligent, but she was extremely cautious. In her conversation, she revealed nothing related to Luo Wei, focusing solely on his desire to overthrow Yu Qiushi, analyzing pros and cons.
Ye Tingyan remained silent.
After Yanluo finished, hesitating for a long time, she softly said, “Thank you for the candle you left.”
Ye Tingyan suddenly asked, “Do you know why Yu Qiushi discovered your identity?”
Yanluo shook her head, and he continued, “That day of the spring hunt, Her Majesty didn’t miscalculate. Blame fate. When you passed through the market, you saved a beggar child nearly run over by a carriage. Do you remember?”
Yanluo paused, bitterly smiling, “It was a plain carriage, not something officials would ride.”
Ye Tingyan said, “But Yu’s people saw your face on the carriage. Upon learning this, Yu Qiushi immediately sent people to follow you up the mountain. The tomb you visited had no name, so they dug it up, forcefully finding proof.”
Yanluo’s eyes turned crimson with hatred, the chains on her wrists clanging loudly. Panting roughly, she gritted her teeth, “It’s my filial impiety that implicated my parents.”
“But the beggar in the market wasn’t deliberately arranged by them,” Ye Tingyan said, “I ask you, if given a chance to redo it, would you save or not?”
Yanluo’s lowered eyelashes trembled twice. She didn’t know why she was telling the truth to him now, “Bringing such risks to Her Majesty, even risking my own life, I really want to answer, no. But… Heaven has a benevolent nature. Perhaps Lord Ye won’t understand. At that moment, there was no time to think of consequences. Even if given ten thousand chances, I… probably wouldn’t hesitate.”
•
On the second day after the injury, Luo Wei learned from Song Lan, who came to visit her, that Yanluo hadn’t died.
Song Lan observed her expression while speaking, “Tingyan interrogated her all night in Vermilion Bird. She’s stubborn, saying nothing. But Vermilion Bird found a palace maid involved in her entry into the palace. That maid committed a crime and left the palace, still alive but somewhat deranged. They interrogated her overnight, vaguely extracting…”
“That palace maid said the one who saved Qiu Xueyu was a princess.”
Luo Wei’s expression didn’t change, immediately asking, “Princess—who? Shu Kang or Ning Le? I’ve never associated with Ning Le; why would she want to harm me? As for Shu Kang… we had some old ties. Surely, she wouldn’t hate me enough to want my life?”
Song Lan watched her intently but discerned nothing.
Thus, he continued, “In the shadowy depths of the human heart, how can black and white be discerned? That palace maid has been deranged for many years, making questioning difficult. Besides the princess, nothing else was mentioned. Nevertheless, Sister, rest assured, I’ve ordered Tingyan to spare Qiu Xueyu’s life for now and will dig out whoever is behind her to compensate for your injury.”
Luo Wei gently replied, “Good.”
Though Song Lan said this, privately, he ordered Vermilion Bird and Lin Guards to surround Qionghua Palace. It was only when Li Neiren accidentally heard armor sounds while fetching food that they realized.
Who knows what Yu Qiushi told Song Lan.
If Yanluo’s identity had been revealed before that hairpin strike, it wouldn’t have been as simple as surrounding the palace.
But after that hairpin…
After Song Lan left, Luo Wei summoned Li Neiren and asked with a smile, “When Doctor Miao left this morning, did he mention anything about the pigeons he caught yesterday for stew?”
Li Neiren replied, “Yes, yes, Doctor Miao said those pigeons were hard to stew. He simmered them over low heat for a full twelve hours. He also said for Her Majesty to rest assured; once he finds some rare northern herbs, he’ll perfect this medicinal stew and bring it for Her Majesty to taste.”
On the third night after the injury, Luo Wei was finally able to rise with difficulty.
She placed an hourglass by her bedside. As the sand ran out just before midnight, the attached metal piece clanged loudly. Hearing the sound, Luo Wei rose from the gauze curtains, opened the nearest flower window in the hall.
But she waited for the duration of an incense stick before hearing footsteps.
“Why are you late today?”
Ye Tingyan saw Luo Wei sitting by the flower window from afar and was momentarily stunned, unable to speak. Luo Wei, not waiting for his response, gave him a puzzled look. Ye Tingyan quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
Not just her mouth, but even her nose—he smelled a slightly bitter aromatic scent in his palm, momentarily not feeling suffocated.
“You open the window like this, aren’t you afraid of smelling the knockout incense I gave your palace maids?” Ye Tingyan leaned on the window frame, eerily saying, “Breathe it in longer. If you suddenly faint while talking to me, I can’t guarantee…”
He paused meaningfully. Luo Wei glared at him but obediently didn’t struggle. Only when she felt him pressing tighter did she wrinkle her brows and tug at his hand, taking considerable effort.
Ye Tingyan watched her with interest. Seeing her weaken, he finally released his hand.
Luo Wei immediately gasped several breaths, angrily saying, “What are you doing?”
She wore only a thin robe, her cheeks flushed. Ye Tingyan innocently looked at her, flipped into the room from the window, closed the flower window, and seriously said, “Giving the Empress the antidote. I was only concerned that the Empress didn’t inhale enough to counteract the poison.”
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