The ancient temple lay in desolate ruin. The woods stood hushed with not a soul in sight. Far off by the meditation chambers, the imperial guards formed a perimeter. Seeing that her rebuke was useless, Luowei glared at him and stamped hard on his foot. Ye Tingyan seemed not to notice at all and simply refused to let go.

Not only that, but he deliberately drew closer and said in a low breath: “This place is not safe — the forest guards may pass by at any moment… Your Ladyship had better keep silent and not let them discover us.”

Luowei was so incensed by his contradictory words and actions that she almost laughed: “Keep silent? My Lord will not release his hold himself, yet tells this Consort to keep silent — this Consort truly thought you knew no fear.”

Ye Tingyan kneaded her waist lightly a couple of times, and said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes: “How could this servant not know fear? But this servant knows that Your Ladyship is bold and courageous, and will surely protect this servant. If it were not so, when this servant passed the note and issued the invitation, why did Your Ladyship agree so readily and come?”

Luowei let out a cold laugh and retorted sharply: “And has the conversation not come full circle? When it comes to sheer audacity, how could this Consort possibly be a match for My Lord? My Lord is a close minister to the Emperor, yet he actually dares to covet this Consort, invite her to secret meetings in private, and now behaves with this outrageous insolence… The way of lord and subject, the bonds of human ethics and moral order — in My Lord’s eyes they are not worth a second thought. Given how you conduct yourself, by what right do you question this Consort?”

Ye Tingyan raised an eyebrow and looked at her, without answering. Instead, he laughed with unmistakable pleasure.

This person’s mind was meticulous, his schemes many, and to behave so recklessly today was unlike him.

Perhaps she still did not know him well enough.

Unable to guess his purpose, and finding that neither goading nor rebuking him had any effect, Luowei had a sudden thought and simply reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

Ye Tingyan was caught off guard. His body went rigid for a moment.

Seeing that this had worked, Luowei felt somewhat calmer. She rose slightly on her toes and leaned close to his ear, saying: “Since we speak of boldness, this Consort is suddenly reminded — let this Consort offer you a word of warning: to serve this Consort is to walk upon the edge of a blade, to tread at the brink of an abyss. You may ask a higher price, this Consort does not mind — only this Consort hopes that when the time comes, you will not lose your nerve.”

The hand Ye Tingyan had placed at her waist finally slackened. Luowei pulled away a step, and just as she was about to speak, he changed his mind, drew her back to him, and bent close to her ear in turn: “What Your Ladyship entrusts to this servant, this servant will gladly undertake even through mountains of blades and seas of fire.”

Having said this, he finally released his hold entirely. He brushed the side of his sleeve and bent forward to kneel, beginning to apologize in a manner that was not entirely sincere: “For the offense this servant has given Your Ladyship, ten thousand deaths would not suffice.”

This time it was Luowei who held the superior position. She looked down at him and did not bid him rise: “Lord Ye, you are a completely different person since that parting on the high platform. This Consort would like to know — what made you change your mind and decide not to keep up the pretense before this Consort any longer?”

Ye Tingyan let out an “ah” and rattled off an improvised response: “Your Ladyship, these words this servant cannot accept — know that every action this servant takes comes from that single word ‘affection.’ Your Ladyship, do you know? From years ago, when this servant escorted the funeral cortege into the capital and first came to know Your Ladyship, this servant has tossed and turned, unable to sleep, with a heart entirely devoted to Your Ladyship. This servant has always longed for the day to meet again. Heaven does not disappoint the faithful. Now that this servant has finally found the occasion, and found himself unable to restrain his feelings in a moment of passion, and saw that Your Ladyship had use for this servant, only then did he dare take the risk of sending that note.”

“This servant could never have imagined that Your Ladyship would agree to come, and was both shocked and overjoyed. Fearing Your Ladyship might not understand, this servant dared not give offense. But who could have foreseen how Your Ladyship behaved on that day, leaving this servant as if in a dream — with no choice but to flee in a panic.”

Luowei listened to him fabricating all of this with a straight face and the corners of her mouth twitched.

Ye Tingyan continued to perform his sorrowful drama: “Today this servant crossed paths with Your Ladyship again, just as the King of Chu met the Goddess of Wushan — a moment of forgetting himself entirely. And so this servant, cradling a heart full of true feeling, told the legend of this tree of devotion in full. Yet who could have expected Your Ladyship to forget yesterday’s tender confessions on the platform, and meet this servant with a cold face. This servant, heartbroken and indignant, committed a grave error — truly ten thousand deaths cannot atone for this guilt.”

He shifted his expression swiftly, spoke without restraint, his words flowing like a torrent. Even Luowei was left in a momentary daze by it, and could only feel that this man ought to go and perform in a theater troupe, so as not to waste that sharp eloquent tongue of his.

On reflection, if he were not someone who behaved this way, he probably would not have won Song Lan’s favor either.

Luowei turned it over in her mind again and again, growing angrier the more she thought about it. She wanted to kick him, but feared that if she did, he would take further liberties. She had no choice but to hold herself back, and forced out the words: “Rise.”

Ye Tingyan had not yet finished his performance, and said mournfully: “Your Ladyship does not believe this servant’s words? This servant here, beneath this tree, is willing to swear by his late father and late mother that this servant’s heart toward Your Ladyship is as clear as the sun and moon, as moving as mountains and rivers…”

Luowei listened, grinding her teeth: “Lord Ye had best be careful what he says — above one’s head stand the divine, and besides, you and I are presently within a Buddhist temple. Idle and reckless words will be heard by all the Luohan throughout the hall.”

Ye Tingyan said: “What this servant says comes from a sincere heart, every word true.”

Luowei said, word by word: “Lord Ye had best let this Consort see his ‘sincere heart.'”

Ye Tingyan swiftly replied: “Since Your Ladyship does not trust this servant’s heart, then at tomorrow’s Shangsi Spring Hunt, this servant will present Your Ladyship with a great gift.”

Luowei caught his implication: “You have something arranged for tomorrow?”

Ye Tingyan cleared his throat and at last dropped the mournful performance he had been putting on, and spoke in earnest: “The Grand Preceptor has deep roots in the court and is firmly established. To uproot him entirely would be no easy matter. However, if one removes them one by one, there is still an opportunity to exploit. Since this servant has come before Your Ladyship, he must first prepare a welcoming gift.”

When he spoke this way, he was more like the refined yet cunning ‘Third Young Master Ye’ of former days.

But now that Luowei had seen through this false mask of his, looking at this manner of his, she could not help but laugh coldly in her heart.

Strip away this person’s veneer of a refined gentleman, and inside he was thoroughly blackened.

Knowing that he would certainly not reveal his plans, she did not continue asking. She lifted her foot to leave, then paused: “Lord Ye, without a moment’s hesitation, chose this Consort over the Grand Preceptor, and comes with strategies and counsel sparing no effort — this Consort is truly curious: My Lord has long been stationed in Youzhou. What grievance do you have with the Grand Preceptor?”

“Does this wound not count as a grievance?” Ye Tingyan raised his hand and placed it over the scar on his shoulder. If he had not mentioned it, Luowei had nearly forgotten he had suffered this wound.

“The Grand Preceptor is displeased that His Majesty favors this servant, and sooner or later he will deal with this servant. This servant is merely taking precautions. Besides—”

Ye Tingyan lowered his gaze, his eyes flickering for a moment: “This servant and the Grand Preceptor do indeed have an old and deep grievance between us. It is too much to speak of, and not fit to dwell on. When there is leisure, if Your Ladyship wishes to hear it, this servant will tell it in detail.”

“However, this servant suddenly recalls that just now, Your Ladyship said serving you is like walking on the edge of a blade — this servant is also somewhat curious. Apart from the matter of the Grand Preceptor, what other deeds that cannot see the light of day does Your Ladyship have to entrust to this servant?”

Luowei noticed that the shoulder she had just gripped had been left with many creases, and reached out her hand to smooth them flat one by one. She said only: “Once this Consort sees your ‘sincere heart,’ this Consort will naturally confide in you. For now, go and prepare the ‘gift’ you mean to give this Consort — this Consort will watch and await with great anticipation.”

As she walked to the threshold of the golden hall, she heard Ye Tingyan call out behind her: “This servant has one more thing to say—”

Luowei, her patience holding, turned back: “What is it?”

Ye Tingyan looked at her and said with an air of earnestness: “In the future, Your Ladyship, could you refrain from calling this servant ‘My Lord’? It always sounds somewhat distant. You may call this servant by the courtesy name Tingyan as His Majesty does, or address this servant by his sobriquet ‘Qu Hua’ — those close to this servant all call him thus.”

“Qu Hua…” Luowei repeated those two syllables with a meaningful air. “Qu Hua means the lotus flower, a thing of purity and nobility. How is it that My Lord took this as his sobriquet?”

She did not continue. The hour was approaching, and they each ought to return.

Yet Ye Tingyan had understood the unspoken words Luowei had left unsaid.

After Luowei departed, he turned to look at the red ribbon in the wind, and softly repeated: “Qu Hua means the lotus flower — this thing is noble and pure.”

His expression in that moment was utterly unlike what it had been moments before — not the slightest similarity remained.

With his eyes closed he could still picture his own ridiculous and pitiable appearance, wallowing in self-pity and self-sorrow. A wave of near-savage revulsion rose within him, and he could not help but let out a self-mocking sound.

“How true. Such a pure and clean thing — this servant… how could he deserve it?”

* * *

After paying their respects at Xiuqing Temple, Song Lan and Luowei returned to the imperial city together and knelt in the candle tower until dusk.

Palace attendants moved back and forth, lighting the surrounding candles one by one. Luowei held the ice-cold prayer beads in her hands, kneeling with composure. After Song Lan rose from his cushion, he turned to help her: “Today’s sacrificial ceremonies are finally complete. Are you exhausted, Elder Sister?”

Luowei grasped the hand he extended toward her, and instead of answering his question, said: “Zi Lan, when shall you and I go to pay our respects at the Bianhe River?”

The prayer beads pressed between both their palms.

Hearing these words, Song Lan’s hand suddenly trembled.

In those days, when the Crown Prince had been assassinated and fallen into the river, the Bianhe’s currents had run fierce. The Jintian Guard had searched everywhere and could not find the body. In the end, only a broken and shattered ceremonial traveling crown had been recovered from the downstream banks.

The crown had entered the imperial mausoleum in place of the Crown Prince.

At that time, Luowei had still harbored the hope of recovering at least a few bones, and so no coffin had been sealed. Song Lan had used this as his pretext not to inscribe a memorial tablet, and so in the candle tower there was no posthumous name for Song Ling. If one wished to pay respects, one had to go to the Yinghua Platform along the Bianhe River.

In those days, the investigation into the Ci Tang case had lasted more than four months and implicated a great many people. In the end, Song Lan and Yu Qiushi had determined three chief perpetrators who had carried out the assassination, and had statues of them cast in stone, kneeling on the Yinghua Platform before the golden effigy of the Crown Prince, atoning for their sins in perpetuity.

Together with them on that platform stood a stone stele inscribed “Monument to the Traitorous Students Put to Death in the Gengzi Year at Year’s End,” which recorded in full the reasons why these three men had committed the assassination.

Yinghua Platform was now voluntarily guarded in rotation by the Jintian Guard, having clearly become a memorial altar for the Crown Prince Chengming. But the platform stood high and precipitous, and the bloody great case hung over it still, leaving those who came to pay respects few and scattered.

Now that the imperial family’s ceremonies also avoided this place, when one reckoned it up, he had never once received a formal act of reverence from her or from Song Lan.

Luowei had not perceived this before. But now she understood clearly in her heart: this was Song Lan’s deliberate doing.

Yet Song Lan did not dare let her see through him. He pressed his lips together and put on an expression of grief and sorrow: “Brother’s remains were never found. I wake in the dead of night in fright, always with a start. I truly dare not face it. However, on every festival and holiday, I always have people perform a great Buddhist ceremony for Brother, in hopes that he rests in peace in the realm below. Elder Sister… do you wish to go to Yinghua Platform?”

Luowei raised her eyelids, her face expressionless: “His Majesty is thoughtful, and so too is this Consort. When the day comes that our grief has found some ease, let us go together.”

Song Lan replied: “Very well.”

He deliberated for a moment, then spoke again: “For tomorrow’s Spring Hunt, Elder Sister, will you join? I remember that Elder Sister used to take the hounds and chase hares, full of vigor and grace — though it has been a long time since I have seen that.”

Luowei said gently: “I am weary from today. I do not know whether I shall have the strength tomorrow. Your Majesty should also retire early to rest.”