Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 38: A Return Gift

“Young Master.”

Only one person ever addressed him this way.

Fucha Fuheng turned around. “What is it… Wei Yingluo.”

The weather had already turned quite cold; most palace maids had changed into their winter clothing. Yet a flash of pale red approached gracefully through the wind and snow—so vivid, so delicate, like a slender finger dipped in rouge, trailing a faint blush of color across the winter white.

“Young Master.” The girl in red walked up to Fucha Fuheng and held out an oddly shaped object. With a radiant, smiling face she said, “This is for you.”

Fucha Fuheng didn’t take it, only lowered his head to look: “What is this?”

“Her Majesty the Empress is always fretting, worried that you standing in the wind all the time will make you feel cold. But men aren’t like women—they can’t use hand warmers. So I went to the small kitchen and begged for a pig’s bladder, filled it with hot water, sealed the opening with hemp rope, and tucked it inside my robes. It keeps you really warm.” As she spoke, she suddenly stuffed the thing into his arms. “See? Isn’t it nice and toasty?”

A sudden warmth bloomed in Fucha Fuheng’s chest—he wasn’t sure whether it came from her concern or from the object now pressed against him.

But as a palace guard, how could he accept a gift from a palace maid? If anyone found out, he himself might be fine, but Wei Yingluo would likely get into serious trouble. So he reached out to push it back: “No need. I’m not cold.”

Yet the young girl before him simply smiled. Not only did she return the gift properly, she even prepared an excuse for him: “If anyone asks, just say it was sent by a maid from the Empress’s side on Her Majesty’s orders. What, is the Empress not even allowed to care for her own younger brother now?”

Fucha Fuheng was still somewhat hesitant, but then he saw her slowly lower her head and let out a soft sigh.

“You gave me medicine, and I wanted to give you something in return too… but I really don’t have anything decent to offer…” Wei Yingluo said quietly. “Do you… perhaps dislike it…?”

“…I don’t dislike it.” After a moment of silence, Fucha Fuheng raised his hand and accepted the warm pig’s bladder. “Thank you.”

Wei Yingluo suddenly lifted her head and gave him a bright smile.

For the next several hours, Fucha Fuheng felt somewhat distracted and out of sorts. The image of Wei Yingluo’s smile kept floating before his eyes—like the sudden arrival of spring wind in the night, causing thousands and tens of thousands of pear trees to burst into blossom.

“Achoo!” His friend beside him, Hailancha, suddenly sneezed, then rubbed his arms. “What season is this already? The wind in the Forbidden City is still freezing—blows straight down my collar, ugh!”

The other guards weren’t faring much better. The biting wind cut through them, leaving the group of duty-bound guards shivering, teeth chattering. Yet none could leave their posts; they could only stamp their feet in place or rub their bodies to generate a little warmth.

Among this crowd of guards whose faces had turned pale from the cold, Fucha Fuheng—with his normal (even slightly flushed) complexion—stood out conspicuously.

“…What are you hiding in your robes?” Hailancha had sharp eyes and even quicker hands. Before he even finished speaking, his hand had already darted forward and snatched the pig’s bladder from Fucha Fuheng’s chest. The sudden heat made him shudder with delight, and he exclaimed in surprise, “Whoa, what is this thing? Hah—so warm!”

As he spoke, he hurriedly stuffed it into his own robes.

“Give it back!” Fucha Fuheng immediately reached to grab it.

Having practiced martial arts together since childhood, though Fucha Fuheng was strong, Hailancha was no slouch either. The two traded quick, close-quarters moves, and for a moment Fucha Fuheng couldn’t get it back.

“Why so nervous?” Hailancha even had the leisure to tease him. “Don’t tell me someone gave this to you? The thing itself looks plain, but the thought behind it is clever. Looking at how tense you are, I’m guessing it wasn’t a man who gave it to you… Could it be… some little palace maid showing you favor?”

Fucha Fuheng hurriedly denied it: “It’s not!”

“Not?” Hailancha immediately grinned mischievously. “If it really was from a woman, I wouldn’t dare take it. But since it isn’t, then what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine between brothers—I’ll accept it without hesitation, haha—ahhh!”

His joy turned to disaster. With a miserable cry, the tall, burly man suddenly rolled onto the ground. Just moments ago he had been complaining about the cold; now he pressed his chest tightly against the icy snow. Still not enough, he frantically scooped handfuls of snow and stuffed them inside his robes.

“Hailancha! Hailancha! What’s wrong?” Fucha Fuheng hurriedly crouched down to check. When he saw the situation clearly, he was first startled, then furious. “…How could this…”

“Wei Yingluo!”

Wei Yingluo, who had been sweeping snow, paused her broom and turned around. “What is it?”

A palace maid said to her, “Guard Fucha is waiting for you by the well behind the palace. He says he has something to ask you.”

So soon? Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned, then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll go right now!”

By the same well where they had parted that morning, the two met once again.

The same wind and snow, the same red clothes—the only difference was his attitude.

Fucha Fuheng abruptly seized Wei Yingluo’s wrist, gazing down at her with an indescribable fury in his eyes. “What deep grudge do I have against you that you would harm me like this!”

Wei Yingluo lifted her head to look at him, feigning surprise. “Young Master, what are you talking about?”

“That pig’s bladder!” Fucha Fuheng said in a low, heavy voice. Besides anger, his eyes held mostly disappointment. “It exploded.”

But unexpectedly, in the next second, something warm pressed into his embrace.

Soft and fragrant like jade—it was a young woman’s hand.

The overwhelming rage was instantly dispelled by half with her gentle touch and caress. Fucha Fuheng recoiled as if pierced by a sword, staggering back several steps until he bumped against the well. The cold stone rim against his back finally steadied him, though his face remained flushed as he stammered, “What are you doing?”

“How could a pig’s bladder explode?” Wei Yingluo pressed closer, her body leaning into him as both hands reached once more toward his chest. “Let me see—did it burn you?”

She moved so quickly, so unhesitatingly, it was as if she intended to drag them both into the well together.

Fucha Fuheng hurriedly caught her. Planting his feet firmly, he stood like a pine tree rooted in rock and sighed. “It wasn’t me. It was my friend Hailancha—he got scalded by the pig’s bladder.”

Wei Yingluo froze for a moment, then slowly lowered her head, hiding her current expression in shadow. She spoke softly, “It’s good that it wasn’t Young Master who was hurt. I must have been too anxious—I only wanted to deliver the gift to you as soon as possible. I didn’t seal the opening of the pig’s bladder tightly enough… Your friend… is he alright?”

“It’s nothing serious, though the burn isn’t light.” Fucha Fuheng paused, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You really didn’t do it on purpose?”

Wei Yingluo slowly raised her head. Snowflakes melted on her skin, piece by piece. The warm breath she exhaled almost reached his face, and the heat made Fucha Fuheng’s own cheeks burn. He even felt that without any explanation, he would believe her.

“Young Master, are you really alright?” Wei Yingluo slowly lifted one hand and gently touched his cheek. “Your face is so red—did you get burned too?”

Fucha Fuheng quickly grabbed her disobedient hand. “No, I didn’t…”

“But your face is very red.” Wei Yingluo’s gaze shifted to his hand. “And your hand is very hot.”

Fucha Fuheng released her hand as if scalded, turned around in obvious embarrassment, and strode away.

Behind him came the girl’s clear, melodious laughter, bright as an oriole’s song: “Young Master, actually, pig bladders filled with ice in the summer feel wonderfully cool against the skin. One of these days I’ll make another one for you to use in the summer!”

Fucha Fuheng didn’t even have the courage to turn back and reply. He fled in disarray all the way back to the guards’ duty room, where he arrived just as the imperial physician had finished changing the dressing on Hailancha’s wound and was packing up his medicine box.

“Alas, why is my fate so bitter?” Hailancha lay on the bed, sighing dramatically. “I didn’t die on the battlefield, but I nearly got blown up by a hot-water bottle.”

“Evildoers live a thousand years—don’t worry, you won’t die.” Fucha Fuheng saw the physician out, then pulled over a stool and sat beside him, asking with concern, “What did the physician say? Is it serious? Do you need me to approve some leave for you?”

“Then approve ten days off so I can escape this damned weather.” Hailancha unceremoniously demanded leave, and when Fucha Fuheng readily agreed, he relaxed. Then, with his usual playful tone, he began to tease, “I took this injury in your place—how about it? Tell me about your sweetheart.”

Hailancha had made such jokes many times before, but this time Fucha Fuheng actually paused. A flush crept over his face. After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “…There’s no sweetheart.”

Hailancha immediately saw an opening. Forgetting his injury entirely, he sat bolt upright on the bed, eyes gleaming with interest. “Fuheng, even though that thing exploded, I still have to speak fairly! Preparing a pig’s bladder is such a hassle—you have to thread it with hemp cord to seal it, and boil it for two whole nights. For someone to go to so much trouble for you… what else could it be but that her heart is secretly set on you!”

“So much trouble?” Fucha Fuheng suddenly snapped back to attention—he realized the other man was fishing for information!

“Isn’t it?” Hailancha clapped him on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “I’d bet my life on it—that girl who gave you the hot-water bottle has fallen for you! And you? Do you like her? Which part do you like about her?”

“Which part?”

In an instant, countless images flooded into Fucha Fuheng’s mind.

Her clothes dyed red like rouge against the winter snow.

Her smile that burst forth like pear blossoms covering a thousand trees in a single night of spring wind.

The smooth, slippery skin of her wrist that he had once held in his hand.

“Hey, hey, I’m asking you a question!” Hailancha shook his shoulder. “Which part?”

Every single one.

“…Shut up already!” Fucha Fuheng suddenly snapped, though he wasn’t sure whether he was angry at the other man or at himself.

“Hey, don’t go—come back, come back! It was just a joke, why are you mad!” Hailancha shouted after him at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t stop Fucha Fuheng’s steps. Still, the reaction confirmed something for him. Grinning cheekily toward the departing figure, he called out, “It’s getting cold now. Next time your sweetheart gives you a new pig bladder warmer, remember to let your brother borrow it, ah!”

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