Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 54: Waiting

   Though the matter was settled, its aftershocks continued to ripple.

First was Ming Yu, who lost favor and trust. Out of consideration for her many years of service, the Empress did not openly punish her—but she no longer trusted her as she once had. Ming Yu was left dejected and heartbroken, yet powerless to change anything.

The other person affected was Noble Lady Yu.

“Congratulations,” the Empress said, gently rocking the swaddled infant in her arms and smiling. “A few days ago, This Palace spoke to His Majesty on your behalf. His Majesty, recognizing your merit in bearing a child, intends to raise your rank. Tomorrow, when the imperial decree is issued, you will become Consort Yu, the principal mistress of Yonghe Palace!”

“Empress!” Noble Lady Yu was so moved that she could barely speak. She had always worried that her low rank would prevent her from keeping the Fifth Prince by her side to raise him herself. Now that worry was no longer an issue. “This concubine doesn’t know how to thank Your Majesty for such great kindness and virtue…”

“You only need to take good care of yourself and take good care of the Fifth Prince—that will be enough.”

The Empress smiled kindly. At that moment, the Fifth Prince in the swaddling clothes suddenly stretched out his chubby little hand, grabbed a strand of her hair, and let out a few “ah-ah” sounds.

“Oh dear! Fifth Prince, let go quickly! Don’t pull and hurt the Empress!” Noble Lady Yu said anxiously.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

The Empress, however, looked delighted. She let the little prince treat her hair like a toy, gently stroking his cheek with her finger, her eyes shining with maternal tenderness.

Wei Yingluo watched from the side, deep in thought.

After Noble Lady Yu left carrying the Fifth Prince, Wei Yingluo ventured cautiously,

“Our Changchun Palace should have a little master of its own by now, shouldn’t it?”

“You!” The Empress reached out and lightly tapped her forehead. “An unmarried girl saying such things—aren’t you ashamed?”

Wei Yingluo rubbed her forehead, showing no trace of embarrassment. She grinned and asked,

“Will His Majesty come tonight?”

This time it was the Empress who became flustered. She lowered her head and gave a soft “mm,” her cheeks faintly blushing—a truly girlish demeanor.

That night, the imperial palanquin made its way toward Changchun Palace. The Hongli Emperor reclined inside, one fist propping up his temple, eyes closed in rest, exhaustion evident on his face.

“Life in this world is but a spring dream; let this slave drink a few cups with open heart.”

A kunqu melody drifted on the wind—plaintive, mournful, filled with longing and resentment.

“…Stop.” The Emperor said.

The palanquin halted, but the singing did not cease. Accompanied by the desolate, slanting-sun-like sound of the huqin, the voice continued its sorrowful song.

The direction the song came from… was Chuxiu Palace.

Once bustling with visitors, Chuxiu Palace was now deserted. An autumn wind swept through, scattering fallen leaves—an unspeakable scene of cold desolation.

A gatekeeper dozing at the entrance suddenly heard voices. Opening his eyes and seeing the Emperor’s palanquin, he started in shock and was about to announce the arrival when Hongli; the Emperor raised a hand to silence him.

Slowly descending from the palanquin, slowly pushing open the door, the Emperor brought only Li Yu with him. In silence they walked deeper into Chuxiu Palace, approaching the person who was singing.

Three or four palace servants sat in the courtyard: one holding a huqin, one with a horizontal flute, one cradling a wine pot. And Noble Consort Hui herself was dressed like an actress—painted brows, rouged face—performing the aria “The Drunken Noble Consort.”

“Life in this world is but a spring dream; let this slave drink a few cups with open heart.”

She drained the cup in one gulp, flung it aside with a wave of her hand. The sound of shattering jade rang out. Amid the broken shards, she bent backward into a dance—her slender waist impossibly fine, her movements graceful and ethereal, like the goddess of the Luo River treading waves.

Halfway through the dance, her foot suddenly gave way and she fell into a strong embrace.

The Hongli Emperor lowered his head and inhaled—only to catch a strong whiff of real alcohol. Frowning, he asked,

“Why is Noble Consort drinking actual wine?”

The huqin and flute fell silent. Zhilan set down the wine pot, stood up, and explained,

“Your Majesty, please forgive us. The consort was in low spirits and said she wanted to sing to dispel her melancholy. She also ordered this servant to open a jar of wine. This servant did not dare to stop her—”

“Utter nonsense!” the Emperor scolded.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”

The beauty in his arms seemed half-drunk, half-awake. She called him several times in a daze, then began to cry.

Helpless, Hongli; the Emperor had no choice but to pick her up and carry her toward the sleeping chamber.

No one knew what would happen next. Whether Li Yu or Zhilan, both knew better than to follow. They tactfully remained outside the door. Inside the bedchamber, only Hongli; the Emperor and Noble Consort Hui remained.

“Noble Consort.” The Emperor placed her on the bed, somewhat helplessly. “Why are you crying?”

Noble Consort Hui threw her arms around him like a drowning person clutching at a life-saving straw. Raising her tear-streaked, beautiful face, she said in a piteous, heartbroken voice:

“Your Majesty… why don’t you call me Xin’er anymore?”

Hongli frowned.

Noble Consort Hui pressed her cheek against his chest and sobbed softly. “If it were possible, I would rather not be a Noble Consort. I would just be your Ning Xin’er again.”

Hongli lowered his head to look at her. “Noble Consort, you’re drunk…”

“No, I’m not drunk.” Noble Consort Hui exhaled a breath laced with the sharp scent of wine, making her words sound all the more like heartfelt truths spoken under the influence of alcohol. “In the past, I loved to sing and dance the most, and Your Majesty loved to watch me the most. But after entering the palace, Your Majesty rarely comes to see me anymore, and you’ve grown distant toward me.”

“It is not that We have changed.” Hongli held her. Her body was feverishly warm, yet his own remained cold—even the words that left his lips carried an icy chill. “It is you who have changed.”

“No, it isn’t!” Noble Consort Hui suddenly cried out, staring at him with bloodshot eyes, her lips trembling. “Once Ning Xin’er became a Noble Consort—a Noble Consort of the Great Qing—if I continued to spend my days singing and dancing as I did before, people would laugh and call it utterly improper! So Ning Xin’er dared not sing anymore, dared not dance anymore! That is why Your Majesty no longer likes me, isn’t it?”

All at once she burst into loud, childlike sobs, as though deeply wronged. She clung desperately to the man before her, begging for his pity, his forgiveness, begging him to look at her once more. “I don’t want rules anymore, I don’t want propriety! If Your Majesty no longer pities me, then what use are any of these things to me! Your Majesty, Your Majesty, do not leave me, do not abandon me. In this vast Forbidden City, the only one I can rely on is you!”

“What foolish things are you saying.” Hongli could only pat her back soothingly. “You still have your family…”

“I have no one!” Noble Consort Hui’s voice suddenly turned cold. “Your Majesty, do you know how my mother died?”

The Yellow River floods. Water bandits roamed in bands. Noble Consort Hui’s father, Gao Bin, led the main force to suppress the bandits and control the floods. The people on both banks benefited, the court benefited—only one person suffered: Noble Consort Hui’s mother.

“The water bandits came for revenge. My father escaped. My uncle escaped. Only my mother and I could not get away.” Noble Consort Hui murmured. “That year, I was five…”

The boat used for flood control was deliberately holed. Shouts of killing and fighting erupted from all directions. The water bandits, who had long lain in ambush around them, swarmed onto the boat like a plague of locusts.

   Under the desperate protection of the guards, Gao Bin and his younger brother narrowly escaped with their lives, but they left wife and child behind on the boat.

   Five-year-old Ning Xin’er only knew how to cry.

   “Don’t cry, don’t be afraid.” Lady Chen hid her daughter inside a wooden barrel, then pushed it hard, sending it floating out onto the Yellow River.

   “Mother!” Noble Consort Hui clung to the rim of the barrel, watching helplessly as one man’s hand after another reached out from behind her mother, seizing her arms, covering her mouth…

   When Lady Chen appeared before her again, she was already a mutilated corpse, her clothes in disarray.

   “What happens to a woman who falls into the hands of water bandits? Everyone knows the answer. That is why the Gao family would not allow Mother to be buried in the ancestral grave, would not allow her name to enter the ancestral hall! My mother bore children for my father, served her parents-in-law with filial piety, and in the end she was torn limb from limb, with nowhere to rest.” Noble Consort Hui spoke without expression. “Less than a year later, my father remarried. Do you know what he said to me when he came to see me not long ago?”

Noble Consort Hui gave a bitter, mirthless laugh and imitated Gao Bin’s tone, repeating the words he had spoken that day:

“He told me: ‘Ning Xin’er, you may act willfully and recklessly, you may wallow in despair—but do not forget, I still have four daughters! Apart from the second one married to Eshi, you still have your third and fourth younger sisters—each one in the prime of youth, each one outstanding in beauty!’”

As she spoke, her voice began to choke with sobs.

A person with a pitiful background always easily wins sympathy—especially when that person is an unrivaled beauty with a tragic past.

Even a man as cold as Hongli, whose heart seemed frozen for ten thousand years, could not help but sigh at this moment. He drew her fragile body into his arms. “Xin’er, you have suffered greatly.”

Noble Consort Hui buried her face in his chest. Her eyes blazed with hatred as memories surged back, yet her voice remained extraordinarily gentle. “Your Majesty, Ning Xin’er did not harm the Fifth Prince. I truly did not… Your Majesty, I can swear to Heaven…”

Hongli gently patted her back. “Enough. We believe you.”

“Really?” Noble Consort Hui looked up at him cautiously, as though terrified he might suddenly deny it all. “Your Majesty is not deceiving me!”

Hongli gave a soft chuckle. “We are not deceiving you. You have drunk too much. Be careful not to harm your health. Go rest early.”

He rose to leave, but Noble Consort Hui reached out and tightly grasped his sleeve. Gazing at him with a face full of attachment, she adopted a rare, fragile demeanor—utterly unlike her usual domineering self—and pleaded softly:

“Then… would Your Majesty stay and keep me company… please?”

Outside Changchun Palace, the night wind was bitterly cold.

A palace maid holding a lantern couldn’t help but yawn, lifting her hand to rub away the sleepy tears at the corners of her eyes.

Ahem. The Empress covered her lips and coughed lightly.

“Your Ladyship.” A cloak settled over her shoulders. Wei Yingluo fastened the ties for her while speaking in a low voice, “It’s cold out here. You should return inside the palace and wait.”

The Empress gently shook her head. “No need. The Emperor will be here soon. I will wait for him right here.”

Wei Yingluo opened her mouth, then closed it again. The sky was already beginning to lighten—how could the Emperor possibly come now?

“Look!” The Empress’s eyes suddenly brightened. “He’s coming!”

A faint point of light emerged through the thin mist—the swaying flame of a lantern. As the lantern drew nearer, the smile slowly faded from the Empress’s face. She asked:

“Eunuch Li, where is His Majesty?”

Li Yu carried the lantern and offered her an apologetic smile. “Your Majesty, His Majesty will not be coming tonight. Please retire early and rest.”

“Is His Majesty still occupied with affairs?” A trace of worry flickered in the Empress’s eyes. “Even at this hour… Someone, go to the Imperial Kitchen and hurry along a bowl of silver ear and lotus seed soup. This palace will personally deliver it to Yangxin Hall.”

“His Majesty is not at Yangxin Hall,” Li Yu said helplessly, finally revealing the truth in halting words. “His Majesty… has gone to Chuxiu Palace instead.”

Wei Yingluo immediately turned to look at the Empress.

   The white of the night mist was no match for the pallor that now drained the Empress’s face.

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