Two days later, the Duke’s mansion was filled with the sounds of gongs and drums. A grand wedding procession traveled ten miles to fetch Ah’man from the entertainment district.
This was the intention of the Empress Dowager and His Majesty. Two fourth-rank officials fighting over a courtesan—one from the Boling Cui clan, the preeminent noble family in the land, and the other the Emperor’s cousin—was utterly disgraceful. It not only shamed Cui Xun and Shen Que but also the entire Great Zhou Dynasty. If news of this reached foreign vassals, how could His Majesty maintain his dignity?
According to the Left Chancellor Lu Yumin and the Right Chancellor Cui Songqing, Ah’man should be executed to uphold moral standards and set an example. The Lu and Cui factions represented the two major political parties at court, and if both agreed to execute Ah’man, it meant all officials supported her execution. His Majesty also held this view. However, just as the imperial decree was about to be issued, the Empress Dowager spoke from behind the pearl curtain: “Two men fight, yet a woman must die to settle the matter?”
The officials exchanged glances. Because of the Empress Dowager’s words, Ah’man’s life was temporarily spared. But Left Chancellor Lu Yumin, the most stubborn and serious, said, “In the Pre-Qin era, Xi Shi used her beauty to bring down the kingdom of Wu. In the Han Dynasty, Diao Chan employed her charms to sow discord between Dong Zhuo and Lu Bu. Since ancient times, beautiful women have been the source of calamity. After being fought over by Cui Xun and Shen Que, Sheng Ah’man’s reputation will surely soar. In the future, her door will be crowded with visitors, and other officials will inevitably emulate Cui and Shen. If this continues, will our Great Zhou court ever know peace?”
Unable to execute her yet unwilling to release her, the officials engaged in heated debate. They finally agreed that since Shen Que had taken Ah’man’s virtue, he should take this “beautiful troublemaker” home and keep her under control. For a musician from the entertainment district, being freed from her lowly status to become a concubine of a duke was like having burned incense for good fortune in her previous life.
As for Cui Xun and Shen Que, each should be fined one month’s salary as punishment.
The officials reached this solution, and both Chancellor Cui Songqing and Chancellor Lu Yumin expressed their agreement. Behind the pearl curtain, the Empress Dowager remained silent for a long time. Finally, she addressed the crowd of men standing beyond the curtain with meaningful words: “All the principles of this world are determined by you gentlemen. The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone are all in your hands. If you say Sheng Ah’man is a troublemaker, then she is a troublemaker.”
As everyone pondered her meaning, the Empress Dowager paused, then continued, “Shen Que may take Sheng Ah’man, but not as a servant—as a concubine. And not with a small sedan chair fetching her home, but with a grand wedding procession of ten miles, bringing her into his household with full ceremony.”
The officials were in an uproar. How could a dignified duke marry a courtesan as a concubine? But then they reconsidered: marrying a courtesan as a concubine would only disgrace Shen Que. Since Shen Que was arrogant and overbearing, relying on his status as the Emperor’s cousin and looking down on nearly everyone, why should they argue with the Empress Dowager on his behalf?
His Majesty thus issued a decree bestowing Sheng Ah’man upon Shen Que as a concubine. But to everyone’s surprise, Shen Que happily accepted the decree, showing no embarrassment. He truly held a grand wedding procession spanning ten miles to marry Sheng Ah’man.
On the day the Duke’s mansion welcomed the new concubine, the bridal sedan chair with its accompanying gongs and drums passed by the Investigation Office. Li Ying frowned at the loud music outside. Ah’man lived in the Pingkang District, and Shen Que lived in the Anren District. Logically, the bridal procession should not have passed through the Investigation Office in the Yining District. Shen Que had done this deliberately.
Cui Xun was working in the secondary hall. For the past two days, he had not slept, constantly supervising the guards in their search for the Daoist Xuancheng. He hadn’t closed his eyes for even a moment. Now, he was hunched over a rosewood desk, reviewing records of all Daoist temples in Chang’an. Though it was March with warm, pleasant weather, Cui Xun was still wrapped in a black crane-patterned robe. Due to his continued exhaustion, his complexion had grown increasingly pale, like snow on a mountaintop. He coughed lightly from time to time, but his fingers never stopped turning the pages of the records.
When he heard the sounds of celebration, his fingers paused. Li Ying looked at him with concern. These past few days, as Cui Xun worked without rest at the Investigation Office, she had accompanied him just as sleeplessly. She didn’t speak or try to persuade him; she simply stayed quietly by his side. After hearing the drums and gongs, Cui Xun’s already pale face lost even more color. Li Ying pressed her lips together slightly. Green ghostly fire appeared in her palm, transforming into luminous light that flew to the window lattice and door, blocking out the sound of drums and gongs.
The room instantly became quiet. Cui Xun didn’t look up, and his impassive expression didn’t change, though his crow-like long eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly. His slender fingers continued turning the records. The only sound in the room was the crisp rustling of bamboo slips being turned. Li Ying continued to use her ghostly fire to block out the noise until the sound of drums and gongs finally faded away, at which point she withdrew the fire.
She had used the ghostly fire for quite some time, depleting much of her spiritual energy. Additionally, she hadn’t slept for two days and felt dizzy. She supported her forehead, wanting to stand up to alleviate the dizziness, but as soon as she rose, darkness engulfed her vision. Her body swayed, and she collapsed softly to the ground.
In her hazy consciousness, Li Ying seemed to feel a pair of arms lift her. Was it Cui Xun? she wondered hazily.
But she couldn’t open her eyes. She thought she heard Cui Xun sigh softly, then carry her to a carved low couch in the room. He pulled up a brocade quilt from the couch and covered her. He seemed to stay by the couch for a while, and only after confirming she was not seriously ill did he turn to return to his sandalwood desk to continue working.
But his sleeve was gently pulled.
Cui Xun turned back. Li Ying had turned to her side and struggled to open her somewhat confused eyes. She seemed to want to sit up, but in her dizziness, her body was too weak to move. Cui Xun’s brows furrowed slightly, and he said, “Don’t move.”
He added, “You should rest.”
But Li Ying still gently held his sleeve, her gaze as hazy as mist, not entirely clear. Yet her jade-like, delicate hand tugged at Cui Xun’s sleeve, refusing to let go.
Cui Xun looked down at her, and she looked back at him. Her hazy eyes carried a hint of deer-like timidity and pleading. Cui Xun’s heartstrings were lightly plucked. He pressed his lips together, not leaving, but instead sat cross-legged in front of Li Ying’s couch.
Li Ying lay on her side on the couch, her eyes open, looking at him. The doors and windows of the room were tightly closed, with a brazier burning, making the temperature warm enough to induce a light sweat. Yet Cui Xun remained wrapped in his heavy crane-patterned robe. Li Ying recalled how, two days ago in the slanting rain, Cui Xun’s dark crimson official robe had been soaked by the rain, clinging tightly to his body, revealing his crane-like thinness. Compared to two months ago when she first met him, he seemed to have grown much thinner. Indeed, in these two months, he had experienced vomiting blood from the extreme pain of hearing Sheng Yunting’s last wishes, endured one hundred lashes that nearly cost him half his life, and dealt with matters concerning his uncle and Ah’man—each incident cutting to the heart. How could he not grow thinner?
Li Ying suddenly felt a tightness in her nose. She quietly lowered her eyelids, her black eyelashes hiding her eyes, not wanting him to notice the change in her expression. But Cui Xun suddenly said, “You should rest first.”
Li Ying’s eyelashes trembled slightly. She looked up and gently shook her head: “If you don’t rest, I won’t rest either.”
Cui Xun was silent for a while, then said, “What’s the point?”
Li Ying was also silent. After a moment, she suddenly asked, “Cui Xun, are you still angry with me?”
Cui Xun probably hadn’t expected her to suddenly ask this question. He didn’t speak. Li Ying said softly, “In the future, I won’t act on my own without consulting you. Please don’t be angry anymore, alright?”
As she finished speaking, there was a trace of nervousness in her expression. Cui Xun stared at her eyes, clear as a spring. He had never been willing to explain himself to others or open his heart to anyone. As Li Ying had said before, he always kept everything hidden in his heart, and no one knew what he was truly thinking. But facing her spring-like eyes, he finally spoke: “Actually, it’s not that.”
“Not what?”
“At first, I was a bit angry with you.”
“And later?”
“Later… I was angry with myself.”
“Why would you be angry with yourself?”
Cui Xun smiled self-mockingly: “Perhaps I was angry that I couldn’t find the cat ghost, angry that I needed a weak woman to act as bait, angry that I still… couldn’t accomplish anything.”
Li Ying’s eyes grew slightly moist. He was still angry at his powerlessness, just as with Ah’man’s situation. Though it was Shen Que who committed the evil act, he took all the responsibility on himself, punishing himself by not sleeping for two days, all to catch Xuancheng sooner and rescue Ah’man from Shen Que.
Over the past six years, he must have experienced this thousands of times, and his heart had been wounded beyond the point of feeling pain. Li Ying suddenly began to understand why, when drunk that day, he had told her she couldn’t save him. Everyone in the world cursed him—cursed him for being afraid to die, for disgracing his family name, for seducing the Emperor with his beauty. They all detested him, spat upon him, despised him, including Ah’man, whom he had always protected, as well as the families of the Imperial Army. They all hated him, yet not a single person was willing to stop and ask him: Are these accusations true?
He had probably struggled, sought help before. He must have wanted someone to help him. He had tentatively mentioned Sheng Yunting’s case to his uncle, whom he had respected since childhood, only to receive the cold response: “Why didn’t you die in Tujue?” He must have been utterly desperate, choosing to shoulder everything alone, to seal his heart forever, preferring to say nothing, defend nothing, perhaps to suffer less harm that way.
Li Ying looked at him. He sat cross-legged in front of the couch, very close to her. His lotus-like, handsome face was so pale it was nearly transparent. His body within the heavy robe was gaunt with illness, and on his slender, jade-like neck, one could still faintly see the hideous scars. But those eyes—their expression was so calm, as if no harm had ever befallen him.
Li Ying’s nose stung. She lowered her gaze, not daring to look at him. Yet her voice carried a hint of bitterness: “Cui Xun, in the future, could you not be like this time, when you got angry, hiding in the Investigation Office, not seeing me for over ten days?”
As if afraid Cui Xun would refuse, not waiting for his answer, she continued: “Whether you’re angry with me or angry with yourself, please don’t avoid me like this time. If you feel guilty, you can tell me. If you don’t say anything, I won’t know anything. I’ll think I did something wrong, and I’ll be very sad.”
She lowered her eyes, gently sniffled, her eyelashes hiding her eyelids, trying to conceal the heartache and distress in her eyes. She might have thought Cui Xun hadn’t noticed, but he had. He stared at the tiny droplets hanging on her long, feather-like eyelashes, and suddenly said softly, “Alright.”