For a long time, Ji Yingying wandered in dreams. She saw her mother plunge a knife into her brother’s body. Mother glanced at her, that gaze like thousand-year-old ice on a snowy peak, freezing her throat so she couldn’t make a sound. In a moment’s daze, she saw Yang Jingyuan again.
He stood amid flames, and she desperately tried to pull him out. The fire scorched her skin painfully, yet she couldn’t touch him at all. He looked at her through the flames, those beautiful phoenix eyes as hot as fire, silently calling her name.
Steeling herself, she closed her eyes and jumped into the flames. In an instant, the fire around Yang Jingyuan vanished. He stood in the rain, gazing at her intently through the window lattice. The raindrops moistened his cheeks and black hair, making his face appear like carved jade, his sword-like eyebrows like ink.
The rainy winter nights in Yizhou were so cold, with the wind blowing in through the windows, freezing her until her teeth chattered. He undid his cloak and wrapped her in his embrace. Warmth gradually spread from his chest to her face, the cold retreating. Ji Yingying sighed contentedly, unconsciously falling into a deep sleep.
Watching her brow gradually smooth out, Sheng Fengze also let out a relieved breath. In the misty vapor, Ji Yingying’s pale face took on a flush. Her snow-white undergarments floated in the water, moonlight reflecting off the hot spring pool, creating gentle ripples of light. Her frailty from illness combined with her flushed face was incredibly beautiful.
Sheng Fengze couldn’t bear to look away.
He placed his hand on her forehead, and when he felt sweat seeping out, he quickly grabbed the blanket by the pool and wrapped her in it. He carried Ji Yingying in large strides into the side chamber.
The waiting servants became busy. Sheng Fengze silently retreated from the room. His soaked clothes dripped steadily, forming a puddle at his feet.
“Your Highness…” a timid voice, bowing and offering a dry cloak with both hands.
Sheng Fengze seemed not to notice, intently listening to the movements inside the room. The little servant maintained her bowing position.
After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Nanny Zhuo came out from the room, looked at Sheng Fengze’s wet clothes, took the cloak from the little servant’s hands, and draped it over him, saying softly: “The lady is sleeping peacefully.”
Sheng Fengze turned and entered the adjacent room. In just a moment, he had changed into dry clothes. He entered the side chamber with his hair loose, and with one sweep of his eyes, Nanny Zhuo led the servants in bowing and retreating from the doorway.
Standing in the room, one could faintly hear the sound of hot springs flowing below. The thick curtains hanging all around blocked the wind, making the room as warm as spring.
Wrapped in brocade quilts, Ji Yingying was sleeping deeply, her forehead breaking out in another layer of fine sweat. This made her struggle uncomfortably.
Sheng Fengze took her hand that had stretched out from under the quilt and tucked it back in. Very naturally, he stepped onto the bamboo couch, embracing both person and quilt.
Nanny Zhuo personally brought in a bowl of medicine, then quietly retreated. She couldn’t help taking a peek—in the dim light, shadows showed through the curtains as the master was feeding medicine to Ji Yingying one sip at a time. Her heart startled, and she quickly left the room, casting a sharp glance at the four servants waiting in the corridor. Seeing them bow even lower, she nodded in satisfaction.
After four full days, Ji Yingying’s fever finally broke and she awoke from her unconscious state. When she woke, she saw Sheng Fengze’s eyes, red from exhaustion.
He smiled at her, naturally placed his hand on her forehead to check her temperature, and then stood up: “Now that you’re awake, you’ll be fine.”
Before she could speak, he lifted the curtain and left. Nanny Zhuo led the servants in one after another.
Ji Yingying’s voice was as thin as silk thread: “Nanny, how long have I been asleep?”
“Four days… my lady needn’t worry, the high fever has broken, and you’ll recover gradually with proper care.”
Nanny Zhuo directed the servants to efficiently help her change clothes and remake the bed, personally helping her lie back down.
After drinking the medicine, fatigue made Ji Yingying close her eyes. Four days—where was Yang Jingyuan? Would he come looking for her? Would Sheng Fengze catch him? Her head was full of questions, but before she could think further, she fell asleep again.
In her haze, she began to cough. The violent coughing woke her; she couldn’t even take a deep breath—each breath brought wracking coughs. Nanny Zhuo appeared again with the servants, and after a bowl of medicine, she fell into deep sleep amid her coughing.
Hearing the coughing inside gradually lessen, Sheng Fengze let out a relieved breath.
“She inhaled smoke and caught cold. After the fever breaks, we’ll clear her lungs and nurture her health.”
Sheng Fengze said flatly: “She seems to cough less severely when sleeping.”
The physician hesitated, then respectfully replied: “This humble one will increase the sleeping medicine. However, sleeping too long will weaken the body.”
Sheng Fengze looked at him, and the physician quickly added: “We’ll treat the illness first, then gradually build up her strength, and there will be no major concern. It will just take more time.”
Time—what he feared wasting least was time.
Sheng Fengze’s gaze darkened.
After sleeping for an unknown time, another mouthful of medicine was fed into her mouth. The bitterness made Ji Yingying hazily try to shake her head to escape, but she couldn’t break free. Whenever she had a moment of clarity, she would fall back into drowsy sleep.
There were occasional sounds around her. Floating in the air, vague and indistinct.
When she coughed in her stupor, there was always a pair of hands gently patting her back. Who was it? Yang Jingyuan’s face flickered in Ji Yingying’s mind, instantly changing to Sheng Fengze’s.
Her body grew lighter and lighter, becoming frail in her deep sleep. When Sheng Fengze heard her coughing lessen, he finally ordered a reduction in the medicine that kept her sleeping.
He carefully held her, looking at her sharpened chin and saying softly: “One last time.”
One last time to held her in his arms while she was unaware.
After sleeping for nearly a month, Ji Yingying finally became lucid. The first person she saw upon waking was Nanny Zhuo.
She glanced around once, then lowered her gaze.
“My lady is weak, but after a few more days of rest you’ll be able to get up,” Nanny Zhuo said with a smile.
By the time she could get up and walk out of the room, another half month had passed. The wind had become warm, and Nanzhao’s spring sunlight was especially brilliant. Ji Yingying didn’t need to ask to know she had been ill for a long time.
The bougainvillea by the wall bloomed vibrantly. She sat in the corridor, gazing absently at the hot spring pool.
Sensing something, she turned her head and saw a flash of black robes in the distance between buildings, disappearing behind a pillar.
“These days, it was Nanny who took care of me. Thank you for your trouble.”
Nanny Zhuo’s eyes flickered, and she finally answered respectfully: “Serving my lady is this old servant’s blessing.”
Ji Yingying couldn’t help looking into the distance again.
The gilded eaves of White Cliff Palace’s main hall reflecting the sunlight hurt her eyes, making them sting with moisture.
She obediently recuperated in the courtyard and never saw Sheng Fengze again.
Spring passed into summer, and Ji Yingying regained her health.
The summer night’s moon was round and bright, clearly reflected in the water.
She often stood by the pool, gazing absently at the water.
Sheng Fengze didn’t know how many nights he sat on the roof secretly watching her. He didn’t understand why she liked to gaze at the pool water in the moonlight, but only this way could he use the cover of night to come to her side, accompanying her until the moon reached its zenith when a little servant would bring a cloak and help her return to rest.
The Nanzhao delegation carrying a letter of apology to the Great Tang would depart tomorrow. He had already instructed Nanny Zhuo to tell her this news. Tomorrow, she would disguise herself as his servant and set out for the Great Tang. This was her last night in Nanzhao.
The fifteenth moon was the fullest on the sixteenth. The sky was deeply blue, tonight’s moon as bright as a jade disk.
The round moon and buildings were reflected in the pool water. Sheng Fengze seemed to sit on the moon, his silhouette especially clear. Ji Yingying stood by the pool. She couldn’t remember how many moonlit nights this had been, nor which night she had accidentally seen his reflection in the water. Tomorrow, as promised, he would send her back to the Great Tang. From then on, they would never meet again.
Ji Yingying reached out her hand. She saw her fingers trembling as they passed through the air, stopping at his face. Her heart beat so rapidly, yet was so sorrowful. Her hand fell limply, and this time, not waiting for the moon to reach its zenith or the little servant to bring a cloak, she turned and left.
Her sudden departure made Sheng Fengze stand up anxiously on the roof. In that instant, he saw the change in his reflection in the pool. He stood there dazedly, a surge of bitter sorrow rising to his nose.
That night, the sound of the hulusi flute echoed through White Cliff Palace all night long.
The night deepened. Yizhou’s sky always had a thick layer of clouds blocking the stars and moon. Looking up intently, the pitch-black curtain of the sky blocked one’s view.
Ji Yingying pushed Yang Jingyuan out of the room, her face flushed.
“Yingying.”
Through the door, Yang Jingyuan’s reluctance to leave came through in his words. Ji Yingying leaned against the door and made a sound of acknowledgment.
“Good night.”
“Mm.”
“Yingying.”
“Mm?”
Yang Jingyuan smiled as he took his hand off the door and stepped back, “See you tomorrow.”
He didn’t leave. Ji Yingying pressed her lips together in a smile for a while, walked to the table, and blew out the lamp. Only after another moment did she hear Yang Jingyuan’s footsteps crossing the wooden corridor. She sighed softly. Sleep eluded her.
Pushing open the window, the night sky was pitch black, without stars or moon.
At dawn’s first light, there were few pedestrians on the streets. Soldiers stood in formation before the courier station, their faces stern. Anyone unaware might think the Xichuan Military Governor’s office was preparing to execute a family.
The Nanzhao caravan quietly passed through the long street under the “escort” of Xichuan garrison troops. When they reached the North Gate, it was just time for the gates to open. The timing was perfect.
As the last carriage passed through the gate, the escorting soldiers slumped their shoulders. The gate guards spat on the ground, venting their hatred for Nanzhao.
After turning past the mountain ridge, Yizhou City disappeared from view. Sheng Fengze’s fingers hooked the thin curtain, his dark pupils flickering with dim light, only his tightly furrowed brows betraying his emotions.
The carriage wheel hit a stone, causing it to shake. The curtain fell from his fingers, blocking his view and covering his heart.
Returning from Chang’an, it was already autumn of the following year.
The delegation was stopped outside the North Gate. Officials from the Prefecture personally came forward, speaking obliquely: “The day grows late, please rest outside the city for the night and enter tomorrow.”
It was barely past noon, with the warm autumn sun still hanging in the treetops, and they were only ten miles from the city. The envoys felt slighted. Even the Great Tang Emperor had been magnanimous, saying: “May our two countries be friends forever,” treating them as honored guests, yet this small Yizhou Prefecture dared to be so discourteous.
“Is today the ninth day of the tenth month?” Sheng Fengze suddenly asked.
Chi Hu nodded: “It is.”
Ignoring the envoys’ anger, Sheng Fengze calmly ordered them to make camp. Tomorrow they would pass straight through the city without stopping at the courier station.
The Yizhou officials’ faces immediately broke into smiles.
The pain of war gradually faded with time, and Yizhou City’s brocade industry flourished once again. On the ninth day of the tenth month, the Military Governor personally attended Brocade Lane, where official funds had erected a brocade competition platform.
The surviving brocade merchants exchanged greetings with emotion-filled faces. After the catastrophe, they lost many skilled craftsmen, weavers, and apprentices. Today’s brocade competition held special significance.
Inside and outside Brocade Lane, before the competition platform, people packed together like mountains and seas.
Yang Jingyuan brought Ji Yingying to the Yang family’s private box. Madam Yang happily took Ji Yingying’s hand, her excitement evident. Ji Yingying understood well—the Huanhua Brocade that the Yang family had developed that year would make its public debut in this year’s competition.
As they spoke, a gong sounded, and the Military Governor personally announced the start of the competition.
Glancing at Yang Jingyuan who was laughing and talking with his two elder brothers, Ji Yingying helped Madam Yang walk to the window.
“Ge Liuyue personally weaves the Many-Seeded Pomegranate Brocade!”
Ge Liuyue? Ji Yingying remembered the old weaver she had met outside Taihe City after being captured in Nanzhao. She couldn’t help leaning out to look. On the competition platform, a petite fourteen-year-old girl was personally handling the brocade painting.
Ji Yingying’s eyes grew moist. The Ge family had lost one Liuyue to Nanzhao but now had a new Liuyue weaver—the tradition remained unbroken. She wondered if Ge Liuyue in Nanzhao knew, would it bring her some comfort?
Lost in thought, a flash of black robes caught her eye. Warm sunlight shone on the black clothing, creating a pearl-like luster. The familiar brocade made her turn to look.
In the crowd, a figure in black wore a veiled hat, leaning against a pillar.
Time seemed to stop for a moment.
A thin veil blocked Sheng Fengze’s greedy, focused gaze. He watched her lean by the window, wearing an apricot-colored spring dress, her hair styled high in a peony bun, with a phoenix hairpin at her temple dropping fine gold threads that sparkled in the wind against her cheek. She had gained some weight, her thin face now fuller, like a plump peach.
He understood her gaze. When she boarded the sedan chair to leave the courier station, at the moment the curtain dropped, she had said: “Your Highness, goodbye.”
She and he had agreed to never meet again.
But he couldn’t bear it, so he came in disguise, wanting to see her one more time.
“Yang family’s new Huanhua Brocade!”
The platform announced the Yang family’s new brocade. Four seasons of flowers made into brocade, like brocade falling into the river, brilliant and beautiful.
“The Yang family has woven new brocade again!”
“Huanhua Brocade, what a beautiful name!”
Her home was by Huanhua Creek. The first time he saw her, she was particularly disheveled. He saved her, and from then on lost his heart. Sheng Fengze turned away amid people’s exclamations, leaving her with his retreating figure.
Yang Jingshan had already mounted the competition platform. Yang Jingyuan smiled as he walked to Ji Yingying’s side, saying in her ear: “Elder Brother says this name was inspired by you. Yingying, you’re amazing!”
Ji Yingying suddenly came back to herself, catching the eldest sister-in-law’s glance. She glared at Yang Jingyuan and said: “I only helped Elder Brother match some silk threads. I don’t know how to weave brocade. It was all figured out by Elder Brother and Second Brother.”
The eldest sister-in-law’s gaze softened as she turned to focus on the platform.
Four pieces of Huanhua Brocade were displayed on the platform, drawing continuous gasps of amazement.
Ji Yingying couldn’t help stealing another look, but the black-robed man in the veiled hat had disappeared from beneath the pillar.
The new Brocade King title returned to the Yang family without suspense. The Military Governor held another celebration feast at Scattered Flowers Tower.
Though it wasn’t Mid-Autumn or Lantern Festival, to celebrate Yizhou City holding the brocade competition again, officials set off fireworks below the tower.
Yang Jingyuan held Ji Yingying’s shoulders as they stood by the lake watching, the fireworks blooming in the night as brilliant as dreams. He suddenly smiled and raised his arm, pointing at the lake water dyed colorful by the fireworks, saying: “That year at the Lantern Festival, I stood here watching you and Sheng Fengze standing on the boat, and was so angry I wanted to shoot him dead with an arrow.”
Ji Yingying’s heart trembled.
Yang Jingyuan lowered his head, cupped her face, and placed a gentle kiss: “Now I’m very grateful to him. Thank him for protecting you and returning you to my side.”
Ji Yingying wrapped her arms around his waist, speaking as if to herself: “We promised, never to be apart.”
Only in her heart would there forever be a corner that held the memory of that black-robed figure turning away.