Chapter 1: The Third Prince
Lin Hong continued to participate in the Jujing Garden project. Once he accepted the appointment, he devoted himself wholeheartedly to it, often staying awake all night working on drawings. Over the following two months, he met with Wu Zhenzhen only a handful of times. In mid-September, the initial framework of the Empress Dowager’s sleeping quarters in Jujing Garden began to take shape. Lin Hong requested that the Empress Dowager and the Emperor come to inspect it and offer opinions on future garden construction.
The Empress Dowager replied that she had already reviewed the blueprints and was quite satisfied. She said they could be modified according to the Emperor’s opinions, and she would visit once the sleeping quarters were completely finished. The Emperor, however, gladly went to inspect it, bringing along several princes and accompanying palace attendants, among whom was Wu Zhenzhen.
Though the sleeping quarters were not yet complete, one could already see that the layout of multiple courtyards and multi-level terraces was more exquisite than the palace halls. It merged southern gardens with pavilions and towers, with gardens situated in front, behind, inside, and outside the main halls. All four walls consisted of latticed doors and windows. In summer, if cooling and ventilation were needed, doors and windows on any side could be removed at will, even making all four sides completely open. A person inside would be like sitting in a pavilion, enjoying the surrounding flower scenery while allowing cool breezes carrying floral fragrance to flow freely through the chambers. In winter, double-layer latticed windows could be added to all four walls, and several layers of curtains could be hung under the corridors, ensuring warmth as well.
Lin Hong designed the garden outside the sleeping chamber where the Empress Dowager’s bed would be placed with considerable elegance. The green plants on both walls were primarily bamboo, with a single pine tree to be planted in the center of the courtyard. The garden would be paved with white pebbles and adorned with some ornamental rocks. Lin Hong introduced the garden’s layout to the Emperor, then said, “It would be fitting to hang some jade chimes in the bamboo grove. When the wind stirs the sparse bamboo, the jade chimes will ring, creating a pleasant and nurturing atmosphere.”
The Emperor smiled and said, “Jade chimes are quite elegant and sound rather nice.” He then asked those around him, “What do you think?”
Most of those present agreed it was good, but Wu Zhenzhen had a different opinion: “Jade chimes are not suitable. The Empress Dowager is advanced in years, and if jade chimes are hung, she might easily be awakened at night.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Zhao Ai immediately voiced his praise: “What Food Preparation Wu said coincides perfectly with my own thoughts. The Empress Dowager’s sleep is unstable, and she often suffers from insomnia. These jade chimes must not be hung.”
The Emperor also felt this made sense and told Lin Hong not to hang them. Seeing this, Zhao Ai felt even more pleased. It was rare for him and Wu Zhenzhen to have the same opinion, both opposing Lin Hong’s suggestion, and they had gained his father’s support. He couldn’t help but look deeply at Lin Hong with a half-smile, feeling as if he had won a round. Though he said nothing aloud, in his heart he cupped his hands toward Lin Hong: “I concede, I concede…”
Lin Hong acted as if he hadn’t noticed. Behind him stood a subordinate holding paper and brush, ready to record everyone’s opinions at any time. At this moment, Lin Hong turned back to look at his subordinate and calmly instructed him to make a note: “Food Preparation Wu indicates that she does not like jade chimes.”
He cast his gaze toward Wu Zhenzhen, showing no expression related to snickering, cold laughter, or any other meaningful smile. He appeared calm and composed, his eyes like autumn waters. However, this seemingly matter-of-fact statement, so utterly ordinary, instantly made Wu Zhenzhen blush deeply. She lowered her head and stepped back slightly, wishing she could immediately disappear into the ground.
She certainly hadn’t forgotten that night when they were alone together at the Wen Qiao Inn years ago, when she and Lin Hong had leaned against each other. She had accepted his kisses that began at her forehead in a dizzying, mesmerizing state. If not for the jade chimes in the bamboo grove outside suddenly falling and shattering, that day’s tender intimacy might have gone much further.
So, “Food Preparation Wu does not like jade chimes” was actually a smiling tease that only the two of them could understand.
She had the impulse to rush over and pummel Lin Hong, but in broad daylight with so many watching eyes, she could do nothing but blush.
Zhao Ai noticed Wu Zhenzhen’s unusual expression and couldn’t help feeling somewhat confused: Lin Hong had merely had someone record her opinion – why was she so embarrassed? Was she worried about being recorded in the annals of history?
He looked at Lin Hong again, studying him carefully, but Lin Hong’s elegant demeanor remained as impeccable as always, his placid eyes revealing not a trace of anything suspicious.
He tried hard to convince himself that the two of them were perfectly normal, that he needn’t think too much and trouble himself unnecessarily. But another rational part of himself kept popping up to question: Then why is she blushing? You seem to have lost this round…
The key was that he didn’t even know where he had lost.
He blinked, deciding not to think about it further, and prepared to give his all in the afternoon’s cuju match to win Wu Zhenzhen’s attention.
This cuju match was held on a completed field in Jujing Garden. The Crown Prince had never cared for cuju, so he sat in the center seat on one side of the field, chatting idly with his father and Lin Hong. The Second Prince Zhao Ai and Third Prince Zhao Hao each led a team of imperial clan members and relatives by marriage in competition.
Two goal posts about thirty feet high stood in the center of the field, with a goal opening one foot in diameter at the top called the “Elegant Eye.” After kickoff, both sides scrambled for the ball, juggled it, and dribbled it. Finally, the side that gained possession passed to their captain, who kicked the ball toward the Elegant Eye. Those who scored gained one point, and whoever had scored more goals when the match ended would win.
Zhao Ai regularly played cuju with Yin Rui and others, so his skills were already quite accomplished. In this match, he cooperated seamlessly with Yin Rui, using his head, shoulders, chest, knees, and feet to receive the ball with the ease of a leisurely stroll in a courtyard. When Yin Rui gained possession and passed it to Zhao Ai’s feet, Zhao Ai would kick forcefully toward the Elegant Eye, hitting the target most of the time. Before long, his team’s score far exceeded that of Zhao Hao’s team. Zhao Hao’s face turned ashen, and he became increasingly dispirited as the match progressed. His other teammates also lost heart, and they quickly lost the game.
Many palace women had gathered around the field. Seeing Zhao Ai’s heroic and spirited performance, they frequently burst into cheers. When the match ended, they surged toward the direction where Zhao Ai would leave the field, competing to catch sight of the victor and calling out “Second Prince” loudly, trying to attract his attention.
Feng Xian had long ago prepared a pot of pear syrup that she had spent most of the day carefully brewing for Zhao Ai. She waited by his seat, and when she saw him return, she immediately approached with the pear syrup and a welcoming smile.
However, Zhao Ai only paused briefly at his seat, accepted the face towel handed to him by a eunuch to wipe his face, then got up and walked smilingly toward Wu Zhenzhen. Before he even drew near, he called out loudly, “Zhenzhen, how did I play?”
He didn’t even glance at Feng Xian.
Feng Xian stood there holding the pear syrup, still maintaining the smile she had shown when she saw him, frozen in place.
It was a long while before Feng Xian came to her senses. She looked at Zhao Ai in the distance, laughing and chatting with Wu Zhenzhen, then silently carried the pear syrup toward the lake, planning to find some unnoticed spot to pour away the sugar water.
Walking to the lakeside, she discovered a dejected figure sitting under a nearby willow tree with his back to her. From the purple robe he wore, he appeared to be a team member from Zhao Hao’s losing side.
Feng Xian didn’t want to bother with him and was about to turn and leave when the person heard movement and turned to look back at her.
It was actually Zhao Hao, his lazily raised eyes clouded with all the gloom of an entire autumn.
Zhao Hao was dark and thin. Since childhood, his appearance and bearing had never matched those of the Crown Prince and Zhao Ai. He was always taciturn, and though he attended palace banquets and gatherings, his unremarkable presence was easily overlooked when he didn’t speak. It had been the same after the match just now – the palace women had all gone to watch Zhao Ai, and almost no one noticed his existence, much less cared when he had come to the lakeside.
Their eyes met, and Feng Xian had no choice but to curtsy and call out “Third Prince.”
Zhao Hao glanced at the sugar water Feng Xian was carrying and said coldly, “Go away, I don’t want any.”
Feng Xian immediately understood that he had misunderstood, thinking she had come to bring him sugar water. She couldn’t help but smile inwardly, but since he had said this, it would be awkward for her to leave. So she walked directly up to him, set down the tray, poured a cup of pear syrup, and offered it to him with both hands: “Third Prince, cuju causes much sweating, so one should drink fluids as soon as possible after a match. This pear syrup moistens the lungs and quenches thirst – drinking it now would be perfect.”
Zhao Hao looked at her, then at the pear syrup, appearing quite hesitant.
Feng Xian smiled at him: “I spent seven or eight hours brewing the pear paste for this sugar water, but I don’t know if it tastes good enough. I hope Your Highness will do me the honor of tasting it and telling me how it is.”
Rather than pour it away for nothing, better to let him drink it and do a favor in the process, Feng Xian thought.
Zhao Hao accepted it, first took a sip, then drank it all in one gulp.
“It’s very good, better than what the palace women in my quarters make,” he commented, showing her a thin smile.
The Royal Kitchen palace woman currently serving his meals was Tang Li, and Feng Xian had just seen her also running toward Zhao Ai with shining eyes, calling out “Second Prince.”
Feng Xian found it quite amusing, but she also felt a bit of sympathy for Zhao Hao. Thinking of her own recent experience, they seemed to be fellow sufferers in a sense.
“Did the Second Prince send you?” Zhao Hao asked. Since the two brothers met frequently, he also remembered Feng Xian and knew she was one of Zhao Ai’s people.
Feng Xian shook her head: “I came on my own. The Second Prince doesn’t know.”
“You specifically came to bring me sugar water?” Zhao Hao was very surprised. “Why? Do you pity me for losing the match?”
“Not at all,” Feng Xian smiled and denied it. After a brief pause, she seemed to make up her mind and told him, “I know that Your Highness’s literary and martial talents are no less than anyone else’s in the palace. A mere cuju match is nothing to you. Today’s defeat was only because you saw the Second Prince’s high spirits and deliberately yielded, not wanting to harm brotherly harmony. Now that it’s quiet here, I have the good fortune to ask Your Highness to taste my sugar water, so I hurried over. If I wait until next time when Your Highness wins, those congratulating you will swarm around, and I won’t be able to squeeze through.”
Kind words could be said once or ten times – might as well say more to make him happy, Feng Xian thought, pouring another cup of sugar water for Zhao Hao. Trading this pot of sugar water for a prince’s goodwill wasn’t a waste after all.
Zhao Hao was quite moved by these words, but stubbornly turned his head away so she wouldn’t see his reddened eyes. After a long while, he spoke again: “May I know your given name?”
“Feng Xian,” Feng Xian replied with a smile, “Ling Feng Xian.”
That night, Wu Zhenzhen lay alone in bed, carefully recalling the morning’s events. Remembering the jade chimes, a deep sense of shame washed over her, and she suddenly pulled the covers over her head. But as she continued thinking, she also detected a trace of sweetness. The covers slipped down from her head, and a smile appeared at the corners of her eyes and brows. But then Lin Hong’s image emerged in her mind – his quietly teasing manner that spoke volumes in silence. With love and hate intertwined, not knowing what to do, she could only turn face-down and pound the bed board with her fists.
Her heart full of girlish feelings that urgently needed sharing, Wu Zhenzhen first thought of Feng Xian. The next day she found Feng Xian, pulled her to a secluded spot, and told her everything that had happened since leaving the capital, only omitting the more intimate encounters with Lin Hong.
After listening, Feng Xian asked: “So what are your plans now? Are you preparing to tell His Majesty and ask him to arrange a marriage?”
Wu Zhenzhen sighed: “That won’t work. If I tell His Majesty now, he’ll definitely think that my leaving the palace to find Teacher Lin was using public business for private gain, just to spend time with him. I don’t mind for myself, but I’m worried about implicating Teacher Lin and causing His Majesty to misunderstand him.”
After thinking it over, Feng Xian said to Wu Zhenzhen: “Then why don’t you find a way to leave the palace and regain your freedom? That way, you can decide for yourself whom you want to marry.”
Since receiving the terrible news about her mother, Wu Zhenzhen had lost much attachment to the court and had long considered leaving the palace, but this matter didn’t seem easy.
“I’ve inquired about it. There are usually two ways for palace women to leave the palace,” Wu Zhenzhen told Feng Xian. “One is when they’re old, they request to leave the palace to marry or retire. The other is when they don’t please His Majesty or the nobles they serve, so they’re expelled from the palace or included on the list when His Majesty releases palace women.”
“The first option doesn’t suit you,” Feng Xian firmly rejected. “You’re only eighteen. To apply to leave the palace on grounds of age, you’d need to be nearly thirty before you could bring it up.”
Wu Zhenzhen nodded and asked: “Is the second option feasible?”
“Being expelled from the palace is even worse – palace women who commit errors are mostly sent to become Taoist nuns,” Feng Xian said. “However, if the error isn’t too serious and won’t result in criminal punishment, but just makes the master unhappy, there is a possibility of being included on the palace release list and leaving unharmed.”
Wu Zhenzhen said gloomily: “I understand this principle too, but I don’t know what kind of error wouldn’t result in criminal charges yet would displease His Majesty or some other noble person enough to want me out of the palace.”
“We’ll both think about this more,” Feng Xian then cautioned Wu Zhenzhen, “But from now on, you must be careful not to serve His Majesty too diligently and make him feel he can’t do without you. Also try to avoid further promotions – the higher your rank, the harder it is to escape. Look at Director Pei – she’s been trapped in the palace for decades and can’t get out.”
“Oh, I asked her about this,” Wu Zhenzhen said. “I heard His Majesty say that if Director Pei wanted to leave the palace to retire, he would grant her a large mansion and she could continue receiving generous stipends. But Director Pei told me that there’s hardly anyone left in her family. If she left the palace, she’d also be living alone, so she might as well stay in the palace where there are people coming and going – it’s more lively.”