Chapter 26: Revelry in the Fullness of Spring

In the resplendent palace, the Crown Prince was supporting the Emperor as they walked, followed by the chief eunuch Lin Zheng and six palace maids.

Dusk had fallen. The group moved from the golden, glittering halls toward the imperial garden, bathed in the setting sun.

“Crown Prince, during your recent confinement, have you properly reflected?” The Emperor’s gaze was deep and inscrutable as it settled on the prince.

The Crown Prince hurriedly dropped to his knees, his face suffused with shame. “Your son admits his mistake.”

“And what will you do in the future?”

“From now on, I shall dedicate all my efforts to the affairs of the state.” The prince’s eyes shone with sincerity, his earnestness plain on his slightly guileless face.

The Emperor smiled and nodded. “Rise, my son.”

“Yes, thank you, Father.”

Ahead in the imperial garden, a figure appeared. Clad in white robes as pure as snow, with sword-like brows and bright, starry eyes, the newcomer was the Third Prince, Cheng Yu, recently returned from the harsh lands of Qiliang.

He approached with unhurried grace, his pace quickening as he neared. Bowing his head, he saluted. “Father, your son Cheng Yu has returned.”

“It’s good that you are back,” the Emperor replied coolly.

A cough wracked the Emperor, and Lin Zheng quickly stepped forward to soothe him.

“Father, shall I summon the imperial physician?” Cheng Yu inquired.

The Emperor waved it off, and Lin Zheng interjected, “Your Majesty, night is falling and the air is chill. Best we return.”

“I am old and failing,” the Emperor said with a wry smile. “You brothers should spend some time together; I will go ahead.”

“Your son respectfully bids you farewell, Father.”

Not until the Emperor’s figure had receded did the two princes lift their heads. The Crown Prince looked Cheng Yu up and down, smiling. “Brother, I’ve heard Qiliang is a harsh place, battered by wind and sun. Yet you’ve been there so long and still return as fair as ever.”

Cheng Yu’s lips curled into a smile. “I spent my days idly wandering—hardly any work to speak of.”

The Crown Prince patted him on the shoulder, his tone earnest. “You really ought to set your heart elsewhere. Music, chess, calligraphy, and painting are but amusements. A true man should aim for the world and the people.”

“Elder Brother, you know I’ve never cared much for court politics.”

The Crown Prince shook his head helplessly. “I must go assist Father with the memorials. I’ll take my leave.”

Cheng Yu nodded with a gentle smile. Moonlight hid behind the clouds, and thick night gathered at his back. His gaze turned cold, his eyes as dark as the night itself.

Jiang Residence, Rear Garden

Beneath a tree heavy with white blossoms, Ming Wan stood. Her crimson sleeves fluttered as she danced among the falling petals. She spun and lowered her head, lips painted red and curling into a thousand charms.

A withered flower fell onto her shoulder. Glancing up, she saw Chen Shanglu approaching from the corner of her eye. She smiled and spun on her toes, her white gauze skirt billowing like a field of blooms.

Chen Shanglu paused at the roadside, his appreciative gaze lingering.

Ming Wan deliberately bent her ankle, and with a feigned stumble, she cried out as if about to fall.

“Careful!” Chen Shanglu strode forward and caught her. Ming Wan leaned delicately against his chest.

She lifted her gaze; her initial panic had long vanished, replaced by a maiden’s bashful grace. Her eyes rippled like a spring breeze as she lowered her lashes. “Thank you, Master Chen.”

Chen Shanglu released her with a smile, flicked his fan, and said teasingly, “Third Miss, your dancing truly captivates me.” Suddenly recalling something, he added, “Far better than Chu’er, in any case.”

Ming Wan’s face, so recently aglow, dimmed slightly. “Chu’er never cared for such things. I, on the other hand, have always delighted in them. Music, chess, calligraphy, and painting nurture the spirit.”

“How could she compare to your elegance? She’s more a wild child than a young lady.”

“Chu’er lost her mother early. Her temperament is somewhat odd, and her moods unpredictable. I hope you’ll be patient with her,” Ming Wan said.

Chen Shanglu raised an eyebrow. “Not odd, really—adorable, I’d say.”

Ming Wan bit her lip and lowered her head, a faint frown creasing her brow.

“If you have nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” Chen Shanglu announced.

“Master Chen, lately you’ve often come to see Chu’er, interrupting her lessons with Teacher Shangyu. It’s not good for her.”

“No matter. I don’t mind if she can’t dance or not. Farewell.” With that, Chen Shanglu tossed out a few words and swaggered off.

Ming Wan’s smile froze on her lips, her fists unconsciously clenched.

Meanwhile, Ming Chu was inside, tending to a bruise on Yuewu’s shoulder. She smoothed on the ointment, muttering, “Tell me, how did this happen?”

Earlier, when Yuewu returned, she’d accidentally brushed his shoulder and noticed his wince. Suspecting discomfort, she’d insisted he show her, and found a large bruise on his left shoulder.

“Perhaps I bumped into something,” he replied.

“Liar! Did Father have you do something dangerous?” she pressed.

Yuewu shook his head. “No.”

He recalled the men who had followed him on the road. Not wanting to be circled, he had confronted them directly. They had fled in confusion, and in the ensuing scuffle, he realized they were holding back, not truly attacking. The mystery deepened, and in his distraction, they escaped. The bruise was likely from that encounter.

“Ming Chu, you have a huge birthmark on your right shoulder!” Ming Chu exclaimed.

“Is it ugly?” Yuewu tilted his head.

“How could it be? It looks just like a qilin—majestic and imposing.”

Ming Chu finished applying the ointment. Yuewu pulled his clothes back on and stood. “Thank you, Miss.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Ming Chu waved her hand, smiling.

Outside, Yunxi knocked. “Miss, Master Chen is here to see you again.”

Ming Chu opened the door and saw Yunxi cradling Duofu, who seemed listless. Ming Chu patted its head. “You’ve been so down lately.”

“Perhaps it’s just old age,” Yunxi tugged its ears; Duofu let out a low whine.

Standing in the doorway, Chen Shanglu once again felt utterly ignored. He strode in, beaming, “Chu’er, I haven’t seen you for days—I’ve missed you terribly!”

“What do you want this time?” Ming Chu asked, though she had grown less annoyed by his visits. Whenever he called, she could ask for leave to go out and play, and her father always consented.

Chen Shanglu moved to her side, deliberately jostling Yuewu, who said nothing and went off to his chores.

“Chu’er, today the wealthy merchant Xue Wan in the eastern district is hosting a grand banquet for his son’s first birthday. There will be all manner of delicacies, and I hear several Qiliang women will perform. They’re famed for their illusions—their show should be fascinating. Shall we go together?”

“Illusions?” Ming Chu’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go, Yuewu, you’re coming too!”

Chen Shanglu shrugged, visibly displeased—he had hoped for time alone with her.

The old nurse, just risen from her nap, shuffled out sleepily. “Miss, you’re not dining at home again tonight?”

Ming Chu grinned. “No, we’re eating out.”

Yunxi squeezed forward. “Miss, can I come too?”

“You should stay home and help the nurse. I’ll bring you back something tasty.”

Yunxi sighed. “Fine, Miss is always partial to Yuewu.”

Ming Chu’s eyes danced. “Because Yuewu can protect me. Can you, Yunxi? I don’t think so.”

“Alright, then.” Yunxi patted Duofu. “Come on, let’s go play.”

And so the evening unfolded.