At the end of November in winter, on this day, Chang’an first experienced freezing rain, followed by hail mixed in, and then snow filled the sky. By evening, not only had the hail and snow not diminished, but they had grown even heavier. Pedestrians had all returned home before dark, leaving the streets completely deserted.
Dark clouds pressed down upon the city. The gatekeeper on duty at the northern gate finally heard the faint sound of drums coming from the direction of the imperial palace and immediately ordered his subordinates to close the city gates. The two gate guards were eager to go inside to warm themselves by the fire. Breathing on their numb, frozen fingers, they hurriedly moved to close the gates when a group of riders came galloping from a distance. Their horses’ hooves splashed through the ice and snow, mixed with dirty water and wet mud on the road, quickly approaching.
The gatekeeper saw that both the horses’ saddles and bridles, as well as the sabers visible outside the riders’ rain capes, were covered with ice crystals and accumulated snow.
This appeared to be a long-distance traveling party from the north. Moreover, although all were dressed in common clothes, since everyone carried sabers at their waists, they were clearly an official group on public business.
Since the Regent Prince had just concluded his southern tour and had departed again without rest for the north to supervise the war several months ago, and had not yet returned, the imperial palace had people coming and going to the north every few days. The gatekeeper dared not be negligent, but also could not easily allow people to enter the city, so he followed protocol and requested to see their travel permits. One of the accompanying riders wearing a bamboo hat handed them over. The gatekeeper glanced at them, then suddenly looked up and rushed out. Under the last dim twilight of the day, he finally recognized the person sitting quietly on horseback in the middle of the group. He too wore a bamboo hat and rain cape, his entire body covered with hail and snow.
The gatekeeper immediately turned back, loudly ordering the gates to be opened, then led his men to retreat to both sides of the city gate and performed the ritual of prostration.
Shu Shenhui, braving this year’s winter cold that had come earlier than usual, trudging through the rain, snow, and mud that filled the roads, finally returned to Chang’an on this evening at year’s end.
Shu Jian had returned safely to the capital half a month earlier than him, entering the imperial palace late one night through arrangements made by the Virtuous Prince. Three days after his return, news spread from within the palace that the Emperor’s illness, after this period of rest and recuperation, had finally gradually recovered, and he was now able to see people.
Regarding the matter of the Emperor being unable to appear for several consecutive months due to illness, although everyone in the court had their speculation, openly, ever since the Regent Prince had sternly rebuked the ministers in Xuanzheng Hall on the night of his return from the southern tour, no one dared mention it again. The Emperor’s illness had ostensibly become a forbidden topic at public occasions. Now that the palace had suddenly released such good news, everyone knew that the person had returned – this was understood without words. First, high-ranking ministers of the third rank and above followed the Virtuous Prince and Fang Qing into the palace to pay respects to the young Emperor. Speaking through a curtain, they exchanged a few words, all expressing their joy at His Majesty’s recovery. A few days later, officials of the fourth rank and above were also successively allowed to enter the palace to congratulate him. By now, although the young Emperor could not yet fully resume court sessions as before, he had begun handling governmental affairs in the palace, and order was being restored in an organized manner.
Additionally, another message had recently been conveyed: the Regent Prince, who had personally rushed north to supervise the war against the Eight Tribes, would also return soon.
All good news. Once the Regent Prince returned, presumably the young Emperor would also fully recover by then. Everything in the court would return to its original state.
After entering the city, Shu Shenhui did not go to the imperial palace. He had someone report his return to the Virtuous Prince and the young Emperor in the palace, then went directly back to his princely residence.
He wanted to rest for a night, to rest well, to sort through the various concerns that had entangled him during his journey home, and wait until tomorrow to do those things he ought to do.
This princely residence had been without its master’s presence for nearly half a year. With his unexpected return, this place that had been as still as stagnant water came alive again. Lights were lit throughout, and everyone in the residence stirred into action.
During his absence, Li Xiangchun had left the palace, and Zhang Bao had also stayed at the princely residence. Today, seeing the terrible weather – bitter cold with no hope of improvement – after eating, he was just about to burrow into his bedding when he suddenly learned of the Regent Prince’s return. Extremely excited, he immediately rushed out.
The residence steward welcomed the Regent Prince into Zhaohe Hall. Zhang Bao served hot tea. He didn’t see the Princess Consort’s figure. Although he had long known she wouldn’t return together with the Regent Prince, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat disappointed.
The residence steward said, “The meal will be ready shortly. Please wait a moment, Your Highness. Jian Yue Pavilion is also being prepared. After Your Highness finishes dining, you may rest.”
Jian Yue Pavilion was the sleeping quarters he had resided in for many years, located not far behind this place, just a few steps away.
Shu Shenhui paused, glanced at the pitch-black night outside, and said, “I’ll go to Fan Zhi Hall instead.”
Although Fan Zhi Hall was the bridal chamber from when he married at the beginning of the year, the space was more spacious. Even if they lit fires immediately, the sleeping quarters there probably wouldn’t be as warm as this side for the time being.
But since he had said so, the steward complied and immediately ordered people to prepare Fan Zhi Hall for the Regent Prince’s residence.
Shu Shenhui casually finished the dinner that was served, then rose and said that tonight’s weather was inconvenient, everyone should go rest, no need to follow. Zhang Bao, together with Li Xiangchun, accompanied him into Fan Zhi Hall.
Lamps had already been lit in the sleeping quarters, and warming fires had been set, but the cold air inside was still difficult to dispel immediately. Combined with such a winter night of drifting rain and snow, the spacious sleeping quarters felt even more desolate and cold.
Earlier, at the other location, Shu Shenhui had already changed into dry clothes. Returning here to prepare for bathing, when undressing, Zhang Bao discovered that his inner garments had been soaked through by the rain and snow, clinging tightly to his shoulders and back.
“Heaven itself won’t let people have peace – first freezing rain, then snow. Your Highness has spent half this year traveling about, and now that you’ve finally returned, you encounter such weather. Your Highness has suffered. Fortunately, it’s finally over, and you won’t have to endure such hardship in the future.”
Zhang Bao served him as he bathed, complaining about the wretched weather.
Shu Shenhui smiled slightly. The hot water completely enveloped his weary and cold body, and the warmth finally brought him some comfort. He closed his eyes, wanting to relax properly and think of nothing, but he couldn’t control himself. Once he became still, his mind involuntarily conjured those few days and nights he had spent with her, that intimate encounter he had been completely unprepared for but which had been wonderfully extraordinary, and her honest answer to his question before their parting.
On the journey home, he had already countless times repeatedly recalled those few sentences she had said. At thirteen, she had encountered a young man – a single meeting, and the youth had fallen into her heart, never to leave again.
Where had he been that year? He, too, had been to Yanmen.
He remembered she had once told him that during the time he was at Yanmen, she wasn’t there, having gone to another camp.
Could it have been then, while he was busy day and night inspecting the frontier, thirteen-year-old she, in another place he knew nothing about, encountered that young man of her life?
That deep sense of regret once again followed him like a shadow, settling over his heart.
If at that time she hadn’t gone elsewhere but had also been at Yanmen main camp and had seen him, what would that have been like?
He certainly wasn’t so confident as to think she would have fallen for him at first sight, but at least leaving her with a good, deep impression should have been possible, shouldn’t it?
If the youth who had grown up with her and remained in her heart all along wasn’t someone else but himself, what a wonderfully beautiful thing that would have been…
The heat in the water gradually dissipated, and the water temperature slowly cooled. Shu Shenhui felt a trace of cold, and his wandering, gossamer-like thoughts also pulled back.
He decided to stop his wild imaginings.
To truly accept everything, just as he had thought that day, the future was yet to come, they still had tomorrow.
If he continued thinking this way, he feared he would reveal his true nature, becoming so jealous he would want to immediately dig that youth out of her heart. He would have no mind for anything else.
Better to rest well. Now that he had returned, before he could get away again, countless matters still awaited him.
He emerged, and Zhang Bao came forward, saying the bedding had been warmed, seemingly afraid he might turn to the study again, constantly urging him to bed.
He surveyed this sleeping chamber that now held only him and recalled his original intention in setting up the bridal chamber here when he first married.
How could he have imagined then that this spacious room would now become the dearest place in his heart?
He yielded to Zhang Bao’s urging and was about to retire when, unexpectedly, the old eunuch came knocking, saying Chen Lun requested an audience.
He had just returned, yet Chen Lun came to see him in the middle of the night because an extremely unfortunate incident had occurred.
Half a month ago, after the young Emperor had secretly returned, the Virtuous Prince discovered that the young Emperor was truly completely different from before.
Before his departure, he had also shown diligence toward governmental affairs. But that kind of dutiful action under supervision was completely different from his current spontaneous behavior. This change could be described as a complete transformation.
As if to make up for his previous mistakes, the young Emperor was extremely devoted to political affairs. Although he still had not resumed attending court, after returning, he had thrown himself into governmental work, personally reviewing memorials, often until deep into the night.
However, outside the palace, private criticism of the young Emperor had not been completely quelled by his “recovery.” On the contrary, his recent appearances had triggered another wave of discussion.
Just yesterday, someone had secretly reported to the Imperial Censor that a son and son-in-law of a current high official had made improper comments about the young Emperor at a private banquet, saying he was dissolute, that some time ago he had left the palace to who knows where, only recently returning, that he was not the bearing of a wise ruler, that it would be better if the Regent Prince seized the opportunity to ascend the throne – that this would accord with popular sentiment and benefit the realm.
This high official was the current Minister of Rites, Xu Fan. The person who reported this was a servant of the Xu household who had been serving outside at the time and heard everything. Harboring resentment from previous punishment, he had secretly informed on them.
This matter not only involved criticism of the Emperor but also implicated the Regent Prince, making it extremely difficult to handle.
The Imperial Censor dared not submit a memorial directly to the young Emperor’s desk, nor could he pretend nothing had happened, so he could only quietly report the matter to the Virtuous Prince first.
Chen Lun said that after Xu Fan received the Virtuous Prince’s secret inquiry, he verified it as true – the two had spoken rashly after drinking. Knowing his son and son-in-law had committed the capital crime of great disrespect and should be executed, and that he was guilty of failure to supervise, he had no face to speak, but still begged that in consideration of his past loyal service to the court, he be allowed to take his own life in atonement and spare his son and son-in-law’s lives.
The Virtuous Prince had not yet decided how to handle this and could only try his best to suppress the matter. Just as he had returned, receiving the news that evening, he immediately sent Chen Lun to see him.
“What about the Xu family servant?” Shu Shenhui asked after hearing the account.
“The Imperial Censor detained the man temporarily for future confrontation. Perhaps from fear, last night the man untied his belt and hanged himself.”
Shu Shenhui fell silent.
Chen Lun looked at his grave expression illuminated by candlelight, feeling extremely heavy-hearted.
The matter with Xu Fan was one thing. He held high position with political enemies all around, yet governed his household poorly, with his son and son-in-law causing trouble with their tongues. Handling it according to the law would be his own doing.
The biggest problem was that if such discussions were brought into the open and the young Emperor learned of them, what would he think? Although the young Emperor and Regent Prince had always been intimate without discord, when it came to such sensitive issues, it was no small matter. This was the most frightening aspect of this report.
“I understand. Go back and tell the Virtuous Prince and Imperial Censor to follow protocol. Handle it as it should be handled.”
Just as Chen Lun was feeling confused, he quickly heard Shu Shenhui say this.
He was startled and looked at him. “Your Highness—”
“Let it be so.”
He stood and turned to glance at the window.
At this moment, the study in Fan Zhi Hall was extremely quiet – even the soft rustling sounds of small hailstones hitting the roof tiles could be heard.
He turned back to look at his old friend, his face showing a smile: “The weather is truly terrible. I fear the cold will be even more severe in the latter half of the night. You should also return early and spend more time with my elder sister. We’ll meet at court tomorrow.”
This indicated the end of their conversation.
Whether this matter was pure coincidence or someone had taken the opportunity to promote it, although it had occurred, if he wished, it wasn’t completely impossible to suppress. Even the Imperial Censor, who had always been upright and famous for his solitary integrity and bold remonstrance unto death, dared not report directly upon receiving such information. This showed how enormous the Regent Prince’s influence in the court was.
Taking the most extreme view, even if this matter truly had someone behind it, and the person who had instructed the Xu family servant was unwilling to give up and later pushed the incident further, by that time, the Regent Prince would be prepared – how could he be without a response?
At this moment, however, he had made such a decision.
Chen Lun could only comply.
That very night, the Virtuous Prince and Imperial Censor knocked on the palace gates to see the young Emperor, stating they had received such a report the previous day, and after investigation, were presenting it before the throne for the Emperor’s sacred judgment.
In the study of the Regent Prince’s residence, after Chen Lun left, Shu Shenhui was also about to return to the sleeping quarters to rest. Before leaving, he wanted to take a book to flip through beside his pillow before sleep. He walked to the bookshelf and was searching when his gaze fell on a nearby book jar. The jar contained some miscellaneous papers awaiting disposal, to be either stored or discarded. But because he had left the capital in the first half of the year, they had been left there all along. The household servants hadn’t dared dispose of them at will, so these papers had remained, now covered with a thin layer of dust.
He saw among them several sheets of calligraphy practice paper. Drawing them out and looking, he couldn’t help but treasure them like precious finds. There were several sheets of character practice she had left from copying his stone rubbings.
Shu Shenhui examined her writing by lamplight, the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifting slightly. His fingertips traced her ink marks, gently caressing them several times. He blew away the dust covering them, then brought them back to the sleeping quarters, placing them beside his pillow. He then extinguished the lamp, retired to bed, closed his eyes, and listened to the mixed sounds of rain and snow outside the window, quietly awaiting dawn.