#4: Lanterns

When Wu Ruian woke up, it was already the hour of Mao (5-7 AM) the next day.

As the morning bell chimed, Wu Ruian awoke from his dream, only to find himself having slept a whole night on Di Jiang’s bed, yet Di Jiang was nowhere to be seen in the room.

Wu Ruian quietly opened the door and walked out. Passing by Wen Yao’s room, he saw Di Jiang sleeping on Wen Yao’s bed, having squeezed in with her for the night. Knowing that Di Jiang was a heavy sleeper, often not waking until sunset, he didn’t want to disturb her. He quickly washed his face in the backyard and hurried straight to the Hall of Supreme Harmony for the morning court.

In the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the ministers were silent. All ministers ranked third-grade and above were absent. Behind the bead curtain, Emperor Chen Zhao was also nowhere to be seen.

Wu Ruian inquired and learned that Emperor Chen Zhao had already departed for Changsun Manor early to mourn Changsun Wugou. All the imperial relatives and high officials had also donned plain clothes and brought their families to offer condolences.

When Wu Ruian arrived at the Changsun Manor, he saw a vast expanse of white flowers before the manor, and everyone within was clad in mourning attire, their eyes red.

In the front courtyard, a mourning hall was set up. A massive purple-gold coffin occupied most of the room, with a memorial tablet inscribed with the birth and death dates of Duke Wenzheng, Prince Kangle, Changsun Wugou, standing before it. Everything was imbued with a heavy solemnity, making one’s mood equally somber.

Wu Ruian was naturally sad, but whenever he appeared at Changsun Manor, he genuinely felt uncomfortable.

Wu Ruian stood there, his features sharply defined, his face cold and stiff like a frosted statue, motionless, watching the people in the mourning hall from a distance.

Emperor Chen Zhao was surrounded by the crowd, weeping repeatedly. Among these people, half were Changsun Wugou’s disciples. As a founding elder, he had educated generations of national pillars. Even Left Prime Minister Gongsun Miao was one of his protégés.

It was evident that they were gathered together, discussing Changsun Wugou’s deeds during his lifetime.

“Grand Historian Changsun possessed far-reaching vision and grand aspirations. We should revere him our entire lives and engrave his memory in our hearts.”

At noon, the memorial service finally concluded with Gongsun Miao’s eulogy. For half the day, Wu Ruian felt disoriented, a persistent sense of discomfort nagging him. Every time he turned around, he would see Changsun Yuming, dressed in a pristine white gauze dress, gazing at him with tear-filled eyes.

He admitted that after three years, Changsun Yuming had grown from a young girl into a graceful beauty. Her every movement, even a single glance, was gentle, elegant, and subtly poignant.

But for some reason, he just didn’t like her. Especially after Emperor Chen Zhao appointed her as Crown Princess, he tried even harder to avoid her.

“An’er, for the next seven days, you will reside in the Changsun Manor and assist Grand Historian Changsun Qi with all affairs, big and small.” Emperor Chen Zhao said faintly, and Wu Ruian’s heart was already filled with bitter complaints.

Emperor Chen Zhao, by all means, was creating opportunities for him and Changsun Yuming to be together. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Emperor Chen Zhao was anxious.

Since her severe illness, Emperor Chen Zhao had begun to take action regarding the vacant position of Crown Prince. And her most favored candidate now was the former Divine Protector General, Prince Wu Ruian.

Changsun Qi commanded the hundred thousand imperial guards in the capital, holding significant military power. Emperor Chen Zhao was undoubtedly offering a grand gift to Wu Ruian.

Wu Ruian feigned obedience, but deep down, he was unwilling to accept.

In the evening, Emperor Chen Zhao left Changsun Manor a step ahead, and Wu Ruian slipped away right after. He returned to his manor, changed out of his court robes into civilian clothes, and then hurried to Jiansu Medical Hall.

At Jiansu Medical Hall, Di Jiang held a silk fan, leaning against a large wooden stake in the backyard, reading a picture book, laughing as she read.

When Wu Ruian arrived, he saw Di Jiang, her face beaming with joy.

“What are you looking at that makes you so happy?” Wu Ruian leaned closer, but Di Jiang quickly hid the book and smiled at him, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Is that so? If I don’t understand, I won’t look.” Wu Ruian didn’t force the issue. He picked up Di Jiang’s teacup, took a sip, then poured two more cups, both of which he drank in one gulp.

Di Jiang saw his thirst and said awkwardly, “You… where did you go today?”

“To offer condolences.”

Di Jiang let out an ‘oh’, immediately understanding what had happened.

Di Jiang asked no further questions, but instead called Shuxiang to set out a table of dishes.

“You’ve been hungry all day, haven’t you? Eat something quickly,” Di Jiang said with concern.

Wu Ruian didn’t stand on ceremony with her. He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. After taking several mouthfuls of rice, he noticed Di Jiang wasn’t eating and asked, “Aren’t you eating?”

“We’ve all eaten.”

“Then these…”

“Specially saved for you.”

Wu Ruian paused, surprised. “You knew I was coming?”

At this, Di Jiang just smiled, saying nothing.

After dinner, Wu Ruian reclined on the hanging chair, pensively gazing at the large banyan tree overhead, which overshadowed everything.

Di Jiang saw that he was in a bad mood and did not want to disturb him further, so they remained silent.

Wu Ruian remained silent for a long time, until a burst of fireworks exploded in the sky. He then clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Ah, today is the seventh day of the seventh lunar month! Liulefang has a lantern festival every year!”

“Lantern festival?” Di Jiang paused, curious, “What kind of lantern festival?”

“Today is the annual day for the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl to meet on the Magpie Bridge!” Wu Ruian said, flipping off the hanging chair and taking Di Jiang’s hand, pulling her outside.

Di Jiang didn’t struggle or fuss, following him with light steps, a faint, ethereal smile on her face.

Sparse shadows lie across the clear shallow water, Faint fragrance drifts in the moonlit dusk.

The lotus pond in Liulefang was crowded with devout men and women, each holding a river lantern. They wrote messages of yearning on paper slips, placed them inside the lanterns to burn, and then set the lanterns adrift on the river, letting them float further and further away. It seemed as if this could carry their beautiful wishes to the heavens, allowing the deities to see them.

Wu Ruian bought a river lantern and handed it to Di Jiang.

“You write one too.”

Di Jiang hummed in affirmation, pondering for a long time, yet she did not take the river lantern.

She shook her head and smiled, “I have no wishes.”

“No wishes?” Wu Ruian frowned, “Don’t you want to be with me?”

“Of course,” Di Jiang nodded generously, then added, “As long as you also want to be with me, then we can be together. Why do we need to pray to gods and Buddhas?”

“You’re right…” Wu Ruian looked at the river lantern in his hand, felt it was useless to hold, but a pity to throw away. Finally, he took paper and pen, squatted on the ground, and wrote a note himself.

The note read: Waves thoughtfully scatter a thousand miles of snow, peach and plum trees silently present a spring array. A pot of wine, a fishing rod, happy as I am. A single oar in the spring breeze, a single boat of leaves, a reel of silk thread, a light hook. Flowers fill the islets, wine fills the cup, freedom in ten thousand acres of waves.

The paper quickly burned to ashes in the candlelight.

Di Jiang, seeing it, let out an “Ah.”

“What’s wrong?” Wu Ruian asked, puzzled.

Di Jiang frowned, perplexed, “Does Your Highness wish to leave Taiping Prefecture? To live a carefree life like a wandering crane?”

“Yes,” Wu Ruian nodded generously, smiling as he asked, “Would you be willing to come with me?”

Di Jiang was silent for a moment, and before she could answer, Wu Ruian added, “Actually, we are both just tiny twinkling stars among countless others. No different from those around us.”

Di Jiang didn’t quite understand, but she didn’t want to interrupt him.

Wu Ruian continued, “I was born and raised deep within the palace, nurtured by women, and grew up under the shadow of my elder brother. How could I possibly harbor such grand ambitions?”

“I once commanded three thousand beauties, my carriage showered with fruit; I also experienced clashing weapons and raging wars. But now, these are all in the past. What I want to do now… is simply to hold your hand, and never let go again.”

Wu Ruian held Di Jiang’s hand, whispering sweet nothings.

Di Jiang stood there, a smile on her lips, gazing back at him unmoving.

Her eyes reflected thousands upon thousands of water lanterns, sparkling like the Milky Way.

This time, her smile was no longer faint and ethereal. Instead, it carried thousands of points of charm, truly and vividly, like fireworks blooming in the night, brilliant and splendid.

Around them, the water murmured softly, and the essence of spring lingered.

At this moment, Liulefang was bustling with carriages and horses, like a dragon, and the flowers and moon were in the gentle spring breeze.

No one would notice them in the darkness.

As Wu Ruian said, when they shed their court robes and their identities. They were merely specks of dust in this vast universe.

They were just ordinary people, only needing to shine and glow in each other’s eyes.