Ji Gang still didn’t grasp the seriousness and corrected: “Today is the first day of the month—there’s no moon.”
Hu Shanwei’s expression grew uglier: “No matter. Without the moon, I can still drink the northwest wind.”
Ji Gang finally realized the severity of the problem and shut his mouth.
Huang Weide said: “This house needs major repairs and is uninhabitable. I’ll go find Director Fan immediately to have her arrange lodging for teacher.”
Ji Gang wanted to take the opportunity to slip away: “I’ll go find craftsmen to repair it.”
“Director Ji, please wait.” Hu Shanwei asked: “Who will compensate for the things broken in my house?”
Ji Gang gritted his teeth and pulled out a red envelope from his pocket: “This is the red packet Commander Mao gave me this morning. Take it.”
“I don’t want your filthy money.” Hu Shanwei didn’t accept it. “Remember this—you owe me, and I’ll collect from you in the future.”
Ji Gang backed away three steps in terror: “Let’s be clear here—I can compensate anything, but not with my body. I’ll never sell my body in this lifetime.”
“Get lost!” Hu Shanwei was irritated. Why were all these soldiers accustomed to speaking nonsense? Ji Gang was like this, and Mu Chun was too—Oh no! Would the hairpin Chun Chun gave her be smashed by the glazed tiles?
Today for the grand court assembly, she wore official robes and a black gauze cap, leaving the gold-inlaid jade narcissus hairpin in her dressing case.
Hu Shanwei ran toward the house. Ji Gang grabbed her arm: “What are you doing? The other roof tiles could collapse at any moment—it’s too dangerous.”
Hu Shanwei shook off his hand: “Go in and bring out my dressing case.”
“Wait for me.” Ji Gang put on his helmet and rushed into the bedroom to find the dressing case.
The rosewood dressing case was hard and sturdy, but after being struck to the floor by collapsed beams, the rouge, powder, eyebrow paint, and various ornaments inside were scattered everywhere, mixed with shattered glazed tile fragments. Trying to pick them up by hand would pierce both hands with hundreds of bloody holes.
Last year, due to the peach blossom powder incident, Ji Gang had been imprisoned in the Palace Administration Bureau’s jail by Director Fan, tortured under interrogation, and had all ten fingernails torn out alive. That heart-piercing agony was still unforgettable.
Ji Gang retreated in the face of difficulty: “I can’t do it. I can’t bear to.”
“What use are you as an Embroidered Uniform Guard!” Hu Shanwei took Ji Gang’s helmet and put it on her own head. “Give me your riding gloves.”
Ji Gang refused: “It’s just some rouge, powder, and jewelry. You shallow women—is a face really more important than a life?”
Hu Shanwei was too lazy to explain to him. She turned and entered the precarious house, put the cotton cover from the teapot over her right hand, and went to the bedroom.
Indeed, as Ji Gang said, everything from the dressing case had spilled on the floor, mixed with glazed tile fragments. Hu Shanwei wore thick-soled wooden shoes, so she wasn’t afraid of these fragments, stepping on them with crunching sounds.
Hu Shanwei used her cotton-covered right hand to sort through the fragments. At this point, Ji Gang helplessly rushed in too, muttering: “I’ve never seen such a stubborn woman. I tell you, besides career and loyalty, there’s nothing else worth risking your life to pursue. I really misjudged—I thought you weren’t the type of shallow woman who only pursued beauty…”
Though Ji Gang complained about Hu Shanwei, his hands, protected by sheepskin gloves, sorted through broken glazed fragments. He was the first to find the gold-inlaid jade narcissus hairpin.
“Stop.” Hu Shanwei said: “That’s it. Let’s go.”
Just as they emerged, they heard crashing sounds from inside—several more glazed tiles had fallen.
Hu Shanwei was secretly grateful they had left early, or this fragile narcissus hairpin would have been buried under the collapsed house.
She carefully used her handkerchief to wipe glazed fragments and dust from the jade hairpin. Seeing her ignore all valuable jewelry to rescue only this plain-looking hairpin, Ji Gang immediately understood what was happening.
Ji Gang asked: “This is something your fiancé… your dead ghost fiancé left you, right?”
Wang Ning’s survival was the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s highest secret.
In worldly eyes, Hu Shanwei would rather take the female official examination and enter the palace than remarry, clearly because she still had feelings for her deceased fiancé. To protect love, she wouldn’t yield to reality.
Ji Gang thought the same. As an elite Embroidered Uniform Guard, he was willing to sacrifice himself for career and loyalty. Hu Shanwei was a woman, and in his understanding, women basically lived and died for love—that’s how all the plays were written.
Ji Gang guessed half right. A hairpin also had past and present lives. Its past life was Wang Ning’s gift on Lantern Festival night. He wore moon-white clothes, carried a rabbit lantern, waiting for her in the moonlight.
Lantern Festival lifted the curfew for all-night revelry. Lanterns hung along every street, and bare tree branches were wound with colored lights. On both banks of the Qinhuai River, “the east wind blows down a thousand flowers at night, and more fall like stars in rain.”
The colored lights were as brilliant as fireworks, yet all pedestrians throughout the city wore moon-white. But no one suited those moon-white robes better than he. She and he strolled shoulder to shoulder along the Qinhuai River banks where “precious horses and carved carriages fill the road with fragrance, phoenix pipes sound, jade pots turn in light, fish and dragons dance all night,” with only a rabbit lantern between them.
He inserted that jade hairpin for her. Her heart fluttered like a deer, and finally emotion broke through a maiden’s shyness. Unconsciously, she reached out and grasped his wide sleeve.
He paused slightly, stopped walking, and looked at her. She didn’t avoid his gaze but looked back at him, bashful yet determined.
He switched the rabbit lantern to his left hand, extended his right hand, and they walked hand in hand through the streets with no barrier between them. This was their first and last time holding hands.
The Qinhuai River wrapped around Nanjing like a jade belt—how long it was! Yet that night, she felt the Qinhuai River was too short, far shorter than love’s length.
She had loved so happily and grieved so painfully…
The hairpin’s present life was when Mu Chun “collected the corpse” of the broken jade hairpin, using gold to repair it into its current form—completely transformed. Yet Mu Chun had also gone to the battlefield…
Hu Shanwei didn’t want to answer Ji Gang’s question or reminisce anymore. She tucked the hairpin into her bosom and said flatly: “It’s none of your business.”
Wang Ning was like the white moonlight of the fifteenth day Lantern Festival—so bright yet so cold. She wanted to hide it, but concealment only made it more obvious. She wanted to forget, but couldn’t help remembering.
Hu Shanwei silently admonished herself: do your own work well, don’t think about these things. Don’t be like before, praying to gods and buddhas—she had done all that before. What couldn’t return would never return.
As Mu Chun said before leaving: we must both be well. Regardless of the other’s situation, we must be well and grow shells to protect ourselves.
That ray of white moonlight was her unspeakable wound. If she couldn’t forget, she would seal it away.
Meanwhile, Huang Weide went to find Director Fan. The seven leaders of the six bureaus and one department were gathered taking turns as dealers in a pai gow game. After the grand court assembly, having completed the year’s most complex and important task, everyone relaxed. According to annual custom, after the grand court assembly, the leaders of the six bureaus and one department gathered to play cards and chat—a rare leisure time of the year.
White ivory tiles felt warm and smooth like jade in their hands. Stacks of tiles lay before the table as the female officials arranged tile pieces like military formations.
Pai gow’s rules were four tiles per person, paired in formations, competing with the dealer for higher values.
This round, Cao Shanggong was the dealer. Her luck was excellent—she had already won against Xu Shangshi and Song Shanggong consecutively. While competing with Cui Shangyi, a little palace maid said Huang Weide sought Director Fan.
“How annoying.” Cao Shanggong raised her willow-leaf eyebrows. “Huang Weide just passed the female scholar examination, but she’s an old hand in the palace. She clearly knows that on New Year’s afternoon we only play cards and chat without discussing business. How can she still come bothering us? Tell her Director Fan is busy.”
Cao Shanggong always maintained a domineering, unreasonable image. Before Director Fan could speak, she had already refused on her behalf.
Having served together for ten years, they all knew each other’s temperaments. Director Fan said: “Huang Weide usually isn’t someone without sense. Knowing we only play cards for fun on New Year’s afternoon without discussing business, yet still coming to find me, there must be some urgent matter. You all continue playing—I’ll go see.”
Cao Shanggong grabbed her: “Is your hand bad, so you want to escape?”
Director Fan laughed: “I’m more worried you’ll switch my good tiles while I’m gone. Seal the tiles so no mouse can steal them.”
Cao Shanggong happened to be born in the Year of the Rat.
Everyone laughed. Cao Shanggong also laughed: “Daring to call me a mouse—today I must win all your money.”
Little palace maids placed a wooden box over Director Fan’s bone tiles to seal them and served everyone tea while waiting for her return to continue playing.
In another warm chamber, Huang Weide told Director Fan about Hu Shanwei’s house’s tragic fate.
Director Fan found it amusing: “Hu Shanwei’s arm strength is amazing—being a female official really wastes her talent. The door bolt is so heavy, yet she could throw it onto the roof. Ji Gang always acts rashly. He’s lucky that only Commander Mao can tolerate him. Falling from the roof on New Year’s Day yet being unharmed and still lively—’broken pieces mean safety’ indeed.”
Huang Weide said: “Exactly! Safety in broken pieces, as long as the person is fine. Now that house has collapsed beams requiring complete renovation and is uninhabitable. Please have Director Fan find Chief Hu another residence.”
Of course Huang Weide knew the seven leaders of the six bureaus and one department gathered for cards on New Year’s Day, but in this bitter cold, she couldn’t have her teacher condescend to share crowded quarters with others.
Director Fan pondered briefly: “The palace has plenty of empty rooms, but all keys are kept at the Palace Supervisor Bureau’s key department. I’ll discuss with Cao Shanggong, and once we decide on a house, you can get keys from the key department to help Hu Shanwei move.”
The six bureaus and one department each had their duties and mutually constrained each other. Even Director Fan couldn’t arbitrarily choose housing.
Director Fan returned to the card table. The six female officials had drunk half their tea and were eating pastries.
Director Fan sat in her original seat and told the amusing story of Hu Shanwei’s “dropping thousand gold” throw that smashed glazed tiles, and Ji Gang’s attempt to retrieve the door bolt that turned into “climbing up to remove roof tiles,” simply demolishing the entire house.
Everyone burst into laughter, especially Cao Shanggong, who sprayed out her tea: “Is this Hu Shanwei some strongwoman, able to throw door bolts onto roofs? Since entering the palace, she’s repeatedly caused strange incidents. In less than a year she’s demolished houses—if she serves in the palace for ten years, who knows what storms she’ll stir up.”
Everyone knew Cao Shanggong disliked Hu Shanwei. Hu Shanwei belonged to the Palace Administration Bureau, but to change houses, she needed keys from Cao Shanggong.
Hu Shanwei had just helped the Court Bureau of Rites guide noble ladies in the grand court assembly, handling Lady of Marquis Xiping’s physical exhaustion and eliminating hidden dangers. The grand court assembly required precise timing at every point without flaws—Hu Shanwei’s approach was correct.
“Repay a peach with a precious jade.” Cui Shangyi had favorable feelings toward Hu Shanwei and mediated: “Hu Shanwei is talented at practical work with outstanding abilities. Capable people are naturally different from others. Her ‘dropping thousand gold’ throws higher and farther than others. In less than a year she’s secured the chief position with two promotions—doesn’t this fulfill the omen of rising step by step? This is clearly an auspicious sign.”
Song Shanggong was a good-natured person and agreed: “During this great New Year, we can’t let someone sleep outside. Besides, Director Fan has spoken. Cao Shanggong, as a magnanimous person, let bygones be bygones. I see that area has over forty corridor rooms—just give her any room to live in.”
Cao Shanggong glared at Song Shanggong: “Am I such a petty person? That row of connected corridor rooms is for newly entered female officials learning palace rules. Now only Hu Shanwei still lives there. Repairing her broken house with craftsmen, tile workers, and carpenters shuttling through daily—how improper for a woman? We must cordon off that entire row of houses for renovation and find her a secure elsewhere.”
Song Shanggong was used to Cao Shanggong’s rebukes and didn’t take it to heart, laughing: “Cao Shanggong is truly thoughtful—I didn’t realize it was so troublesome.”
Director Fan asked: “Where does Cao Shanggong plan to house Hu Shanwei?”
Cao Shanggong raised an eyebrow: “The person Director Fan values most—how dare I neglect her? I must choose a fine house—let her move to Liu Siyan’s former residence.”
Everyone fell silent: Cao Shanggong was too petty, still holding grudges against Hu Shanwei.
Liu Siyan had died tragically, ground to bone dust and scattered. Empress Ma had ordered a memorial tomb erected for her and had Jiming Temple monks perform salvation rites with several grand ceremonies.
But Liu Siyan’s former residence had become a haunted house. Palace rumors said Liu Siyan’s wronged spirit lingered—the ghost house had a female ghost who emerged nightly searching for her tongue.
Director Fan said: “This… seems inappropriate.”
Cao Shanggong retorted: “How inappropriate? A single-gate independent courtyard, a quiet little quadrangle with a central skywell garden—isn’t it much grander than these corridor rooms? Take it or leave it.”
Huang Weide informed Hu Shanwei of the news, saying: “Liu Siyan was a distinguished sixth-rank female official, Empress Ma’s confidant—her living environment was naturally excellent, just haunted. Perhaps we should ask Director Fan again—”
“No need to trouble further.” Hu Shanwei said: “Don’t make things difficult for Director Fan. The palace also has rumors about Yanxi Palace being haunted—it’s just rumor upon rumor. I never believe in ghosts and spirits. Moreover, if I dare not live in Liu Siyan’s former house, people will gossip that I have a guilty conscience. Go get keys from Cao Shanggong—we’ll move today.”
Hu Shanwei checked the almanac: fourteenth year of Hongwu, year of xin-you, first day of first month—auspicious for moving, marriage proposals, oath-taking, prayer, burning incense; inauspicious for kitchen work, bed installation, and shipbuilding.