Wei Caiwei dozed under the grape arbor, drowsily returning to her previous life, remembering the scene when she and Eunuch Wang were wildly passionate beneath the grape arbor. The grape trellis nearly collapsed from their movements, and ripe grapes fell one by one, hitting her body, bursting open and splattering juice that all went into Eunuch Wang’s mouth…
The sound of knocking woke Wei Caiwei from her spring dream. Hearing the characteristic shrill voice of a eunuch, she knew it was a summons from the palace. Wei Caiwei splashed cold water on her face and opened the main gate.
It was Shang Qinglan.
Wei Caiwei suspected she was still dreaming. The Emperor’s beloved consort should be in Yude Palace, living like an immortal. How could she possibly appear at her front door?
After half a year apart, Shang Qinglan had grown taller, and her chest had also developed. She had transformed from last year’s green plum into a honey peach, her eyes rippling like waves—clearly the radiant appearance of a favored consort.
Wei Caiwei rubbed her eyes. Shang Qinglan pulled someone into the house, saying, “We came out of the palace to play. Hearing you’d returned home, we came to see you.”
Looking at that person, Wei Caiwei was even more convinced this was a dream within a dream: it was actually Emperor Jiajing in civilian clothes on a private visit!
My heavens! Emperor Jiajing hadn’t attended court for over thirty years, hadn’t entered the harem for over twenty years, had stayed in the Western Garden cultivating immortality and refining elixirs, and harbored a fear of the outside world with his “someone always wants to harm me” paranoia. How had Shang Qinglan dragged him out of the palace to play?
Next, would he have to follow Emperor Zhengde’s example and tour the south!
Wherever Emperor Jiajing went, hidden guards protected him. In an instant, the quiet Tianshui Lane filled with many “passersby” and “merchants”—some pushing wheelbarrows selling ice bowls, some carrying poles selling early-ripened greenhouse watermelons, and some sharpening scissors and kitchen knives.
Wei Caiwei quickly performed the proper etiquette. Emperor Jiajing stiffly waved his hand, “I have come out incognito. Dispense with ceremony and rise.” He seemed to be venturing out for the first time, still finding the outside world strange and frightening, his entire being tense.
Shang Qinglan shook Emperor Jiajing’s arm, “I’m tired from walking. Let me have a cup of tea at Doctor Wei’s house.”
“You insisted on coming out to wander, and now you’re complaining of tiredness.” Though Emperor Jiajing said this, he still followed Shang Qinglan into the house.
The room was stuffy. Wei Caiwei invited the two noble guests to cool off under the grape arbor, first serving watermelon and brown sugar fried cakes, bringing out the fine tea Shang Qinglan had bestowed last year. When she hurriedly boiled water, brewed the tea, and brought it to serve the noble guests, Shang Qinglan had already fallen asleep from exhaustion on the imperial concubine couch under the grape arbor. Emperor Jiajing sat upright in his chair, flipping through the leisure book Wei Caiwei had been reading recently—”Journey to the West”—just reaching the part about causing havoc in the Heavenly Palace.
Wei Caiwei tiptoed to set down the tea, tactfully withdrawing.
In her previous life, no matter how much Emperor Jiajing favored Shang Qinglan, he only permitted her to leave the palace with Wei Caiwei to play or soak in hot springs, but had never accompanied Shang Qinglan out of the palace himself.
In this life, she had gone to the south and wasn’t at Yude Palace to accompany Shang Qinglan. Unable to bear the loneliness, Shang Qinglan had actually convinced the old Emperor to accompany her out to play.
Indeed, when elderly people fall in love, it’s like an old house catching fire—once it starts, it can’t be stopped.
Shang Qinglan could eat and sleep heartily, carefree and thoughtless. She slept under the grape arbor all afternoon this way. Emperor Jiajing didn’t rush her either. Only when evening came and Shang Qinglan naturally awoke did the two return to the palace together.
Huang Jin, the Chief Eunuch of the Bureau of Ceremonial, said to Wei Caiwei: “Doctor Wei must keep today’s events secret and cannot let anyone know the Emperor and Shang Zhaoyi came here.”
Wei Caiwei didn’t even tell Wang Daxia.
Meanwhile, Wang Daxia and Commander Mu escorted Wang Qianhu and Wang Daqiu to Tongzhou Port dock, where a large official ship awaited them.
Commander Mu was reluctant to part, “Ever since I joined the army, I’ve served under Wang Qianhu. We’ve never been separated. Now Wang Qianhu goes to Jiangxi while I remain in the capital—we each go our separate ways.”
Wang Qianhu said, “You and I will both grow old someday. By then, our children will be grown, married and established. We’ll retire together and go to the countryside to ‘pick chrysanthemums by the eastern fence’ and age together.”
Commander Mu and Wang Qianhu struck their palms together as an oath.
“Ice bowls! Selling ice bowls!”
Hearing the ice bowl vendor’s call, Wang Daqiu ran over greedily, clamoring to eat ice bowls. Wang Daxia took out money for the merchant, “One bowl.”
But the merchant whispered, “No payment needed.”
The voice sounded somewhat familiar. Wang Daxia looked carefully and was shocked—it was actually his former stepmother, Wu Shi!
Wu Shi had washed off her makeup, wrapped her head in blue cloth, and remained charming. In the countryside, she’d heard that Wang Qianhu was being transferred to Jiangxi and her son would accompany him. Not knowing when they’d return from this parting, she disguised herself as an ice bowl vendor, pushing a wheelbarrow and waiting at Tongzhou Port like a hunter waiting by a tree stump for her son.
When Wu Shi was divorced, Wang Daqiu couldn’t yet speak. He no longer recognized his mother, only staring greedily at the ice bowl.
Seeing his eldest son buying ice bowls for his youngest, Wang Qianhu couldn’t help lecturing: “Your brother is young with a weak stomach—he can’t eat ice or he’ll get diarrhea. When you were little, you were greedy and had diarrhea too, five days straight, until you were skin and bones.”
Wang Daxia moved aside, letting Wang Qianhu clearly see the vendor was his former wife.
Wu Shi used as little ice as possible, making an ice bowl for her son. While Wang Daqiu buried his head eating the ice bowl, Wu Shi took out a large bundle, stammering as she handed it to her former husband: “Children wear out shoes quickly. I made shoes and socks for Daqiu—large and small sizes, enough to last until he’s ten.”
From dismissal to restoration, even promoted two ranks, Wang Qianhu no longer harbored much resentment toward Wu Shi. This ignorant woman had been ruined by her family’s insatiable greed, leading her heart astray. However, a mother’s concern for her son was natural human sentiment. Wang Qianhu silently accepted the bundle.
The once-loving couple now faced each other wordlessly. Wu Shi stared intently at her son eating the ice bowl, as if wanting to engrave him in her heart. She then took out a packet of silver: “This is what I earned this year, to repay the family’s losses. Though only twenty taels, far from enough, I’ll repay some each year for a lifetime. If I can’t finish repaying in this life, I’ll be an ox or horse in the next life to repay it all.”
Having been husband and wife for several years, Wang Qianhu refused to take it, but Wu Shi insisted on giving it. As they pushed and pulled, Commander Mu emerged as peacemaker, saying: “This silver is just a drop in the bucket. Better use it as capital—buy some land or start a small business. Money making money earns more and repays faster. Wang Qianhu, how about she repays once every ten years?”
Wang Qianhu nodded. Only then did Wu Shi give up, pushing her wheelbarrow away.
Wang Daxia and Commander Mu watched the official ship leave port before returning to the capital.
Meanwhile, in Qufu, Shandong, at the Kong family mansion of the Duke Yansheng.
Yan Shifan’s eldest daughter, Yan Shi, had married this generation’s Duke Yansheng, Kong Shangxian, and was the Duke’s wife. In Qufu, she was shocked to learn of her family’s downfall. Yan Shi fainted, and when she awoke, she had been moved out of the main residence. The Duke handed her divorce papers, divorcing her on grounds of lacking wifely virtue.
Additionally, he removed the two legitimate sons born to Yan Shi from the Kong family genealogy. The mother and two sons were henceforth unrelated to the Kong family.
Duke Yansheng turned his back without hesitation. But because he was a descendant of Confucius, all scholars under heaven kept silent, not daring to discuss it, and no one criticized his heartlessness and ingratitude.
Yan Shi, suffering repeated heavy blows, grew even sicker. Duke Yansheng wouldn’t let her see a doctor and reduced her food rations. Within a month, Yan Shi was tortured to death.
Her two sons, expelled from the family, went to the capital to seek justice from their uncle Yan Shaoting. Yan Shaoting himself was dependent on others, relying on the Lu family’s protection to stay out of trouble. Facing the ungrateful Duke, he was helpless. He could only go to Qufu to collect his sister’s body and bring his two nephews to the Lu family.
Li Yiren accepted these two relatives who weren’t orphans but were more like orphans, and sent people to transport Yan Shi’s coffin to her Jiangxi hometown for burial.
Comparing the Kong family’s coldness with the Lu family’s charity, the capital buzzed with discussion, saying the Lu family were good people who would surely receive karmic rewards.
Seeing his daughter’s coffin, with white-haired parents burying their black-haired child, Yan Shifan never imagined that the marriage he’d carefully selected—seemingly the most secure and wealthy match—would become his daughter’s death warrant!
Not all in-laws were as honorable as the Lu family, taking in their son-in-law’s entire family for protection. Seeing trouble with his in-laws, Duke Yansheng couldn’t wait to distance himself, forcing his wife to death and expelling his sons—utterly cold-blooded and ruthless.
Yan Shifan wept over the coffin, swearing revenge.
The world’s sorrows and joys are not shared. The Yan family lost a daughter, and Yan Shifan nearly cried blind his remaining eye. In the Forbidden City, the old Emperor was enjoying his romance with a young girl.
After that palace outing, Shang Qinglan became addicted. Dragon boat racing on the moat during Dragon Boat Festival, releasing river lanterns at Shichahai during Ghost Festival, climbing mountains at Fragrant Hills during Double Ninth Festival, ice skating at Shichahai in deep winter, admiring flower lanterns during Lantern Festival… Throughout the four seasons, for all appropriate festivals and places with good food and entertainment, Shang Qinglan dragged Emperor Jiajing out to play.
Initially, Emperor Jiajing was somewhat resistant and uncomfortable, but gradually gained some earthly pleasures, willing to share in observing the bustling mortal world with his beloved consort.
By the second year, when Shang Qinglan had the wild idea of seeing the ocean, Emperor Jiajing even risked accompanying her on a trip to Qinhuangdao to listen to the waves. Previously, as a vassal prince in Anlu, Hubei, then as Emperor in the capital, despite being the Son of Heaven, he had visited fewer places than Wei Caiwei. Emperor Jiajing remained fearful during the journey, but upon reaching their destination and seeing the sapphire-blue vast ocean, he still removed his shoes and left paired footprints with Shang Qinglan on the beach.
Shang Qinglan was like a tenacious warrior, repeatedly breaking Emperor Jiajing’s various taboos, forcibly dragging the old Emperor from his lonely, cold dragon throne. Though each time was brief, it still injected a trace of vitality into the old Emperor’s withered soul, like a new sprout growing from dead wood.
Thus, two years passed, reaching the forty-second year of Jiajing reign, the fifteenth day of the eighth month—Mid-Autumn Festival.
Wang Qianhu had taken his family to assume office in Jiangxi and hadn’t returned. Wang Daxia simply celebrated the festival with Wei Caiwei.
Three years ago, after Wei Caiwei’s hand-baked mooncakes became iron cakes, she gave up on cooking, setting out imperial mooncakes bestowed by Shang Qinglan.
Just as the two raised their cups in a toast, the main gate was pounded thunderously.
It was Li Fang, the managing eunuch from Prince Yu’s mansion. Li Fang was anxiously sweating profusely, saying: “Doctor Wei, Li Xuanshi started bleeding during the Mid-Autumn banquet—she’s about to give birth.”
Li Jiubao was about to give birth to the future emperor. Wei Caiwei quickly shouldered her medicine chest and left.
Author’s Note: With a sweep of the timeline, it’s been two and a half years—time for the three-year promise!