(Two months later)
The seventh month brought its fire-star season, and the weather suddenly turned cool.
Emperor Zhaoyuan had been dead for over a month now. The realm could not go a single day without a sovereign, and once the twenty-seven days of mourning had passed, the Sui Palace shed its white mourning garb. The new emperor ascended the throne, and the realm took on an entirely new air.
So much had happened over the past year — first the Fifth Prince’s return to the palace, then Prince Ling’s rebellion. Before that great case had even finished being tried, Emperor Zhaoyuan had passed away.
But amid this change of imperial power, what the streets and alleys of Jinling were actually abuzz with was the case of the missing young lord of Prince Cong’s household.
It was said that two months earlier, the young lord, having just recovered from a serious illness, had gone into the palace to hand over his authority to the Crown Prince — the current emperor. Afterward, he had hurried out of the palace and headed west across the city, and had never been seen again since.
All sorts of rumors spread through Jinling. Some said the young lord had long intended to retire from the world — hadn’t he declared, right there in the Golden Hall as he relinquished his power, that he wished to be posted away for three years? His disappearance without a trace, they said, must mean he’d simply withdrawn from the world.
Others secretly speculated that although the young lord had given up his power, he had held it for so long that the emperor still feared him — the current emperor might look gentle and benevolent, but was in truth ruthless at heart, and the young lord’s disappearance surely had something to do with him.
The strangest account of all came from within the palace itself. According to a Daoist priest known for his skill in divination, the last time he’d seen the young lord in a cell at the Censorate, the young lord had already been dead — that the “young lord” people had known these past two years had merely been a wisp of soul attached to a corpse. This account was later corroborated by a physician surnamed Wu from the mansion, who reportedly said that over the past year or so, whenever he’d taken the young lord’s pulse to diagnose him, it had come and gone erratically, and that in his final days, lividity marks had actually appeared on his body.
The rumor spread from one person to ten, ten to a hundred, and combined with Cheng Chang’s otherworldly beauty and his two previous inexplicable disappearances and equally inexplicable returns, the people of Jinling began to speculate wildly — one moment convinced the young lord was a bodhisattva descended from the heavens to punish evil and reward good, the next convinced he was a vengeful spirit risen from the underworld to seek revenge.
Whether he was truly a divine being or a demon, no one ever settled the matter, until an imperial edict finally came down declaring that the young lord had simply set down his burdens and gone off to wander the world — which at last put an end to the endless gossip.
With the autumn chill came a spell of wind and rain, and the mandate of heaven passed to a new ruler; the reign title would change to Wang’an come the first month of the following year. The realm had settled into order. Prince Ling’s case had also been concluded half a month earlier — those implicated, such as Pei Ming, Luo Fuyou, and Zhang Yue, having committed crimes of treason and collusion with the enemy, had already been publicly beheaded at midsummer. Yet the new emperor, being merciful, did not extend punishment to the families of these criminals beyond exiling them from Jinling. Additionally, Pei Lan of the Pei Mansion, having placed justice above family loyalty, returned to duty at the Bureau of Military Affairs after a month of closed-door reflection.
The new emperor subsequently reformed the imperial guard, summoning Ning Huan, former Crown Prince Tian Yang’s first-rank bodyguard, to serve as his own personal guard, and reduced the eight hundred thousand troops under the Palace Command, the Imperial City Command, and the Yiwei Guard down to six hundred thousand. The remaining two hundred thousand were redistributed to wherever the realm’s armies were needed, with seventy thousand of them going to the newly reformed Loyal and Valiant Army.
From this point on, the injustice done to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household was truly and fully redressed. The new emperor placed his trust in Yun Luo once more, entrusting him again with the crucial task of guarding the northern frontier.
The northern frontier was bitterly cold, and once winter arrived, heavy snow would seal off the roads. It was already the end of the seventh month, and Yun Luo’s group could delay no longer — it was time to set out.
Early that morning, before the sky had even fully lightened, the small side gate of the Sui Palace creaked open, and a figure in a dark blue cloak, with clear, fine features, stepped out carrying a lantern.
The captain of the palace guard came forward to greet him. “Lord Tian, are you heading out on official business?”
Tian Si nodded. “Yes.”
After Tian Ze ascended the throne, he hadn’t assigned Tian Si any particular post — the palace’s chief eunuchs remained Wu Mao and his young apprentice — but the one who attended him personally was Tian Si alone.
At first, people in the palace had addressed Tian Si as “Eunuch,” but after learning he was actually the sworn elder brother of the current emperor, and that he had once served as a lieutenant under General Yunhui, no one dared call him that anymore, and instead respectfully addressed him as “Lord.”
Where else would Lord Tian be going, if he was leaving the palace?
The captain of the guard promptly ordered a carriage prepared and instructed, “Take Lord Tian to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s mansion.”
The newly reformed Loyal and Valiant Army was to set out the next morning, and the emperor had summoned Yun Luo and the others to dine in the palace that evening. The palace guards had planned to form ranks at the gate to receive them sometime after noon, but hadn’t expected that so early in the morning, Lord Tian himself would go in person to the marquis’s mansion to invite them — truly, the imperial favor shown to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household was unmatched in all the realm.
When Tian Si arrived at the mansion, the gatekeeper led him straight into the main hall, where he bowed to Yun Luo. “My lord.” Then he said, “I—I’ve come to see A’Ting.”
“A’Ting — how, how is she doing?”
Yun Luo sighed. “She’s packing her things, alone.”
“She’s—she’s really leaving today?” Tian Si asked. “Not—not going with you all, to the frontier?”
Yun Luo said, “Let her be.”
After a long silence, he added, “She can’t let go of it. Getting out, having somewhere to go — that’s probably good for her, actually.”
In truth, that Yun Xi had recovered even this much was already something to be grateful for.
Yun Luo still remembered the day Cheng Chang had disappeared — he’d searched everywhere for her and couldn’t find her, then had followed the road from the Sui Palace toward the Xishan Barracks inch by inch, until finally, at dawn the next day, he found Yun Xi lying alone amid the wild grass by the roadside, clutching Cheng Chang’s robe, her eyes vacant and unseeing, her tears all but spent.
Beside her lay a scattering of white ash. Yun Luo later scooped some of it up and sent it to the Imperial Academy of Medicine for examination.
The physicians there said it was the ash of a corpse.
After Yun Xi returned to the Marquis’s mansion, she spent her days lying on her bed, neither eating nor drinking, occasionally closing her eyes only to snap them open at the slightest sound — no one could tell if she ever truly slept.
But Yun Luo knew this wasn’t a sign that she had given up on life and wished to die — the children of the Yun family were resilient beyond measure, and no matter what, they always found a way to go on living. She was simply grieving so deeply that she didn’t know what else to do.
Later, when Prince Cong’s household heard what had happened to Yun Xi, after much deliberation, they sent a matchmaker to call off the engagement.
Prince Cong and his consort meant well by it — they didn’t wish to bind Yun Xi with a marriage contract. If their son Chang had cared for this girl so much, surely he would have wanted her to be able to heal and move on.
But when Yun Xi heard that Prince Cong’s household wished to break off the engagement, she got up, dressed, and washed the very next day, went to Prince Cong’s mansion herself, and begged the prince and his consort not to dissolve her betrothal to Cheng Chang.
She had watched him turn to ash with her own eyes. She had no idea where she might go to find him again — all that remained between them was this one slender thread of connection, and she couldn’t bear the thought that even after her own death, her name wouldn’t be allowed to stand beside his.
Yun Xi had grown noticeably thinner these past months. Watching her kneel there, slight and fragile, in the main hall of the mansion, Prince Cong’s consort, though grieved beyond words herself, bit her lip and forced back every tear, her heart aching unbearably. She went forward, helped Yun Xi to her feet, and said, “Very well. If you’re willing to be Chang’s wife, then you are his wife. For his whole life, you’ll be the only wife he ever has.”
Yun Xi returned from Prince Cong’s mansion carrying a set of wedding robes.
These were the wedding garments Cheng Chang had commissioned from the Feng family’s silk shop in Yangzhou for her.
The last time Cheng Chang had gone missing, in the great fire at the Imperial City Command, he had later woken up at the Feng family’s silk shop in Yangzhou. Later still, when Yun Xi had traveled to Yangzhou to find him, Feng Tun had taken a dress from the shop and given it to her as a gift.
Cheng Chang had always remembered how lovely Yun Xi had looked in that dress, and so he’d asked Feng Tun to make her wedding garments to match.
Yun Xi stared at those wedding robes for an entire day, not daring to put them on, until Yun Luo came into the room — and she suddenly threw herself into her brother’s arms and wept as though the heavens themselves were breaking.
She remembered Cheng Chang’s final words — that he’d always thought he’d have a whole lifetime to prove that he loved her just as deeply.
But he hadn’t needed to prove it. So much of what he’d never spoken aloud, she had kept every bit of in her heart all the same — just like these wedding robes.
That, in itself, was already deep love.
After that, Yun Xi slowly, gradually began to recover. Though she still couldn’t eat much, she could at least sit at the table and swallow down a few bites of vegetables. Though she still slept poorly, she could at least close her eyes and rest for an hour or two at a stretch.
After the Chushu rites to Heaven had passed, Yun Xi went alone into the palace to see Tian Ze.
She said to him, “Your Majesty, please give this subject a task.”
Tian Ze said, “Very well. What sort of task would you like?”
“Anything at all. This subject is a military officer — leading troops, quelling unrest, providing disaster relief, any task that lets me travel about would be fine.”
There had been some trouble with mountain bandits in Pengcheng, reported up to the court — a minor matter. The Bureau of Military Affairs had originally planned to send just a lieutenant to look into it. But the very next day, an imperial edict came down, personally dispatching General Yunhui, a third-rank officer of the court, to go quell the unrest in Pengcheng herself.
The Loyal and Valiant Army was to set out for the frontier the next day, and Yun Xi was to leave today. She would take few personal guards with her — only Cui Yu and a handful of others. When Tian Si heard the news, he couldn’t rest easy about it, and after much thought, he told Tian Ze and came early that morning to the marquis’s mansion to see Yun Xi.
Tian Si waited a while in the main hall, and when Yun Xi still hadn’t come out, he went with Yun Luo to the side courtyard to look for her.
Yun Xi’s luggage was already packed. She was in the courtyard saying goodbye to Zangzang. Seeing Tian Si arrive, she wasn’t surprised, and said with a smile, “I’m leaving Zangzang in your care — remember to look after him for me.”
Tian Si nodded. “A’Ting, don’t, don’t worry.”
Yun Xi looked at Zangzang once more, reluctant to part with him, then turned back into the room, tied off her travel bag, slung the bamboo scroll case that had been sitting on the wooden table onto her back, and walked toward the main hall.
Seeing that bamboo scroll case, Tian Si and Yun Luo both fell silent for a moment.
Inside that case was a portrait of Cheng Chang.
She still meant to go looking for him.
Even having watched him turn to ash before her own eyes, she still meant to search for him.
She simply didn’t know where to go, and so she had asked Tian Ze for a post — wherever the assignment took her, that’s where she’d go.
A’Jiu, Bai Ling, and others such as Bai Xiang and Qin Zhong were already waiting in the main hall. The group accompanied Yun Xi out of the Marquis’s mansion together. A’Jiu said, “A’Ting, once you’ve finished your task, come to the frontier — I’ll be waiting for you there.”
Bai Ling said, “Young Miss, you needn’t worry about anything back here — I’ll take good care of the family.”
Yun Xi smiled at them without saying much, and mounted her horse.
“A’Ting.” Watching Yun Xi about to ride off with a flick of the reins, Yun Luo couldn’t help calling out to her.
In the pale, clear autumn light, Yun Xi turned back. Her eyes and brows were as clear and radiant as ever, only now carrying an added trace of quiet composure that never quite left her.
That quiet composure made her seem like a begonia blooming after rain — resilient, spirited, and yet gentle beyond words.
Yun Luo thought to himself that his sister had truly, completely grown up now — she had those she loved, those she hated, and a deep devotion buried in her heart that nothing could ever break.
“Never mind, it’s nothing,” Yun Luo said. “Go wherever you want to go. Just remember to write and let us know you’re safe.”
“I will,” Yun Xi nodded. “You too, brother.”
With that, she flicked the reins and, with Cui Yu and the others, galloped off, vanishing at the end of the street.
Having seen Yun Xi off, Yun Luo and the rest of the household finished preparing their things, and seeing dusk approaching, set off toward the Sui Palace together with Tian Si, bringing Zangzang along.
Tian Ze was already waiting in person at the palace gate. As soon as Yun Luo arrived, he quickly led the household of the Marquis’s mansion forward to pay their respects. “This subordinate general arrives late — to have kept Your Majesty waiting.”
“General, there’s no need for such formality. It was I who was eager to see the general off, and came early to wait at the gate,” Tian Ze said gently.
The bond between the current emperor and the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household ran deep, and so in private, he didn’t address Yun Luo as “Marquis,” but rather, like the veteran soldiers of the Loyal and Valiant Army, called him “General.”
The banquet was held in the Jiying Hall. Once the members of the household had each paid their respects to Tian Ze, Wu Mao led them onward to the hall.
The emperor kept things informal with the household in private, and before long, palace servants brought in the dishes.
Seeing that the banquet was proceeding smoothly, Wu Mao glanced at the young eunuch beside him, and led him quietly out of the Jiying Hall.
At dusk, the sky and earth were bathed in gentle rosy light. As the young eunuch followed Wu Mao a short way along the palace terrace, he asked, “Master, aren’t we going to attend His Majesty?”
“Attend to what?” Wu Mao said, holding his whisk and walking with steady composure. “Once the banquet ends, the palace servants will clear it up themselves, and when His Majesty returns to his chambers, A’Si will attend him. His Majesty has a straightforward temperament, and is sharp-eyed and clear-eared — he has no need of anyone hovering at his side flattering him and fussing over him, and certainly no need for outsiders standing nearby with their ears pricked up while family matters are being discussed.”
“Family matters?” The young eunuch was startled. “Master means, His Majesty regards the Loyal and Valiant Yun family as his own family?”
“Could it be… could it be…” The young eunuch thought it over carefully, recalling how, when the household had entered the palace earlier, the emperor had glanced more than once at a woman among them dressed in plain white, with a face like the bright moon. What was her name again — ah, Bai Ling. “Could it be that His Majesty wishes to marry a daughter of the Bai family, one of the veteran officers of the Loyal and Valiant Army?”
“Foolish thing.” Wu Mao gave his whisk a flick, its tail sweeping right across the young eunuch’s face. “His Majesty’s wife — what is that? That is the Empress, the mother of the realm. Not someone of humble birth could ever hold such a position and command the respect of all under heaven. And besides, an empress’s family becomes the emperor’s in-laws — have you ever seen an emperor treat his in-laws as his own family? Besides, His Majesty grew up among the common people and has endured much hardship. Outwardly he seems gentle and mild, but in truth his resolve runs deep — do you really think he’s the sort to fall for someone so easily? I’d wager His Majesty’s feelings for that Bai girl are one-sided — the flower has feelings, but the flowing water does not.”
“What I meant by ‘family,'” Wu Mao said slowly, “is the bond between His Majesty and the Yun family — the debt His Majesty owes the old Marquis of Loyalty and Valor for saving his life.” He sighed, recalling the glance Tian Ze had given Bai Ling. “But — if that Bai girl, as one of the Loyal and Valiant veterans, has caught His Majesty’s attention even this much, then surely the Marquis’s household will enjoy a hundred years of good fortune from here on. In this world, it seems good deeds really are rewarded after all.”
“But the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household was already a distinguished and noble family to begin with. If Prince Ling hadn’t betrayed the realm and caused the deaths of the old marquis and thirty thousand soldiers, the household would have deserved its good fortune regardless,” the young eunuch said.
“Blockhead.” Wu Mao tapped the young eunuch’s forehead. “Let me ask you this — half a year before Prince Ling’s treason, the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor had been guarding the northern frontier perfectly well. Why did the late emperor suddenly summon him back to Jinling?”
The young eunuch was puzzled. “Why?”
“Let me ask you something else. The current Marquis of Loyalty and Valor, Yun Luo, was born with a general’s talent, even more gifted than Yun Shuguang. Had he stayed at the frontier alongside Yun Shuguang to defend the border, the northern frontier could surely have remained secure for decades to come. But before recalling Yun Shuguang to Jinling, the late emperor kept sending Yun Luo off to campaign in places like Lingnan. Why?”
“Why… was that?”
“Because his military authority had grown too great, his achievements too towering — the late emperor feared him,” Wu Mao said. “The Yun family commanded two hundred thousand fierce, battle-hardened troops, and had held the northern frontier for nearly a century. Even with utter loyalty to the throne, in an emperor’s eyes, what was that if not a ‘local king’ unto himself? That’s why the late emperor wanted to recall them, trap them in Jinling, and gradually strip away the military power in their hands — and if necessary, over time, ‘accidentally’ eliminate one or two of their generals here and there, all to set the emperor’s mind at ease.”
“Is Master saying that the late emperor’s suspicion ran so deep that, even without Prince Ling’s betrayal, the fall of the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household would have been unavoidable — that perhaps General Xuanwei and General Yunhui, too, might never have met a good end?”
“If the late emperor hadn’t been so suspicious, why would the Nan’an princedom, a distinguished family of generals in its own right, have had to tread so carefully? Why would the immensely capable Prince Cong have had to give up his power and let himself be branded a ‘treacherous prince’? Why would the Third Young Master, who stood outside the chaos of court politics entirely, have had to risk his life again and again to overturn the entire court?” Wu Mao said. “So you see, all things in this world follow their own cause and consequence. Yun Shuguang once gave his life at the frontier to save His Majesty — that seed of good planted then has now bloomed and borne fruit, such that after ascending the throne, His Majesty has restored his trust in the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household. The household has escaped its calamity and regained its former glory, and Yun Luo, Yun Xi, and even their descendants will now know a hundred years free of misfortune. And with the Yun family guarding the northern frontier, it will surely know peace and prosperity — so that the souls of those soldiers who died at the frontier all those years ago will not have died in vain after all.”
“Master says the Marquis’s household will know a hundred years free of misfortune — but what happens after those hundred years?” the young eunuch asked.
“Foolish thing.” Wu Mao laughed. “Nothing in this world lasts forever, nothing flourishes without end. A hundred years from now, naturally, there will be some other cause and consequence at play.”
“Remember this — these deep palace walls hide waters deep and murky indeed. But no matter how deep or murky those waters run, even the mighty, boundless power of the throne cannot escape the fixed order of Heaven’s Way, the workings of cause and consequence, the bonds of human relations. And you and I, too, are bound within those same relations — never lose your sense of reverence for them,” Wu Mao said.
With that, he walked on, whisk in hand, ambling slowly toward the palace terrace beneath the setting sun.
The young eunuch hurried after him. “Master, master — you say all mortals are bound within these relations, so what of the Third Young Master? Where did the Third Young Master go? Are the rumors in Jinling true? Was he a demon, or an immortal, or simply a mortal man? Will he ever come back?”
Wu Mao gazed at the distant setting sun and gave a faint, unhurried smile. “Who knows?”
Night was drawing near. The evening wind carried in the coming dusk, and the rosy glow sank slowly into a gathering dimness, like a gentle hand soothing the land into sleep.
Yes — who knew, indeed.
Heaven’s Way was ever-changing, hard to alter, and at times cruel — but perhaps, in the end, Heaven’s Way was merciful after all.
(End of Volume Three)