Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 59: The Gift

   “To celebrate His Majesty’s full recovery, I intend to present him with a gift.” Upon returning from Yangxin Hall, the Empress summoned Wei Yingluo and the other senior palace maids to her side. “Help this palace choose—which of these two paintings do you think is better?”

Spread before them were two paintings. One was a landscape: a lone sail fading into the distant blue sky, with only the endless flow of the Yangtze visible at the horizon. The other was “The Nymph of the Luo River”: treading lightly upon the waves, silk stockings stirring faint dust.

Ming Yu spoke first: “Naturally, the landscape painting is superior. Anything sent by Fucha Guard is bound to be the best…”

Her words offered no real comparison of the paintings’ merits; every line dripped with calculated flattery.

Unfortunately, the person she wished to please was not present. The Empress gave her a faint glance, then turned her gaze to Wei Yingluo. “And you?”

“Reporting to Your Ladyship,” Wei Yingluo considered for a moment before replying, “If it were up to me to choose, I would certainly present the painting of the Luo River Nymph.”

“Why?” the Empress asked.

“Because in the way the nymph glances about, there are three parts that resemble Your Ladyship.” Wei Yingluo smiled. “Whenever His Majesty looks at this painting, he will be reminded of the person who painted it. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Her words were also flattery, but unlike Ming Yu’s, they carried genuine warmth and sincerity—and the person she wished to please was standing right in front of her.

In the end, the Empress decided to present “The Nymph of the Luo River.”

Because of this incident, another rift formed between Ming Yu and Wei Yingluo. But times had changed. Wei Yingluo had now taken her place as the most favored senior palace maid in Changchun Palace. The Empress even personally taught Wei Yingluo to read and write; though they were nominally mistress and servant, in reality they shared something close to a teacher–disciple bond. Their relationship had grown deep and uncommon. It was now very difficult for Ming Yu to trip her up, and she could no longer openly mock her to her face.

As a result, the two selected consorts who came to pay respects to the Empress at Changchun Palace became the ones to suffer.

“Her Ladyship the Empress is resting and has no time to receive visitors,” Ming Yu said coldly to the two young mistresses before her. “Please return.”

If Wei Yingluo had been present, she would have immediately recognized them: these were none other than the two most outstanding candidates from the recent palace selection. One was Naran Chuxue—dignified and virtuous in demeanor, with features that bore a certain resemblance to the Empress. The other was Lu Wanwan—timid and fearful by nature, yet possessing the delicate, sickly beauty of Xi Shi clutching her heart.

Having never been treated with such disdain by a servant before, Naran Chuxue’s expression shifted. She quietly slipped a silver ingot into Ming Yu’s sleeve. “Ming Yu, I specially had someone bring blood swallow nests from Fujian as an offering to Her Ladyship the Empress. Please go in and announce us.”

Ming Yu weighed the silver in her hand, then contemptuously tossed it back into Naran Chuxue’s arms. She cast a scornful glance over them. “Changchun Palace enjoys profound imperial favor—what rare treasure have we not seen? A mere blood swallow nest—who do you think hasn’t encountered such a thing?”

“You…” Even the usually mild-tempered Lu Wanwan began to grow angry.

Naran Chuxue gently took hold of her arm and gave a slight shake of her head. “We understand. Then we shall come another day to pay our respects to Her Ladyship the Empress.”

On the way back, Lu Wanwan could not help but complain, “I clearly heard voices coming from the main hall, yet Ming Yu insisted Her Ladyship was not there. How can she treat us with such contempt and humiliation?”

Naran Chuxue scoffed with icy disdain. “If Changchun Palace won’t receive us, do we have nowhere else to go? Come—let’s go to Chuxiu Palace!”

That night, two figures slipped into Chuxiu Palace. The lamps flickered dimly. On the paper window three silhouettes sat facing one another, deep in conversation. Apart from the candlelight on the table, no one knew what the three of them were discussing.

Ming Yu would never know what kind of disaster she had unwittingly caused once again.

She continued to wallow in self-pity, at one moment hating Wei Yingluo for stealing her favor, at the next resenting the Empress for being fickle and favoring the new over the old. In her heart she was constantly scheming how she might regain that favor and reclaim her position.

She could think of no method and found no opportunity—until several days later, when a grand banquet was held in the main hall of Qianqing Palace. All the consorts and concubines of the harem presented gifts in unison to celebrate His Majesty’s full recovery.

The banquet was extremely lively. The most eye-catching figure, as always, was Noble Consort Hui. This woman seemed born for such occasions; she knew exactly how to draw every gaze to herself. With a light clap of her hands, yellow curtains were drawn back from both sides, revealing a group of eunuchs holding Western musical instruments.

Cello, violin, clarinet, flute, organ, and other foreign instruments began to play all at once in a grand, imposing sound that instantly overshadowed the Empress’s Nymph of the Luo River painting.

Hongli gazed at these instruments and listened to the melody they produced. He fell into a daze, as though he had slipped back into memories of the past and could not escape.

These were the Western musical instruments his father, the Emperor Yongzheng, had collected. When Hongli was still a boy, the two of them had even studied under missionaries for a time. Those crooked, clumsy sounds of the violin and flute remained, to this day, among his most cherished memories.

“Noble Consort has put great thought into this,” Hongli said with a sigh.

Everyone could see that, once again, Noble Consort Hui had likely taken first place at this banquet and won His Majesty’s greatest favor. It was hard for anyone else to compete with her—even if they wanted to. What surprised them all was that this usually domineering woman acted completely out of character: she took the initiative to recommend another lady to Hongli, allowing someone else to share in the glory bestowed upon her.

“Your Majesty, it is not only this consort who has gone to great lengths for your birthday gift—Noble Lady Shu has also spared no effort.” Noble Consort Hui stepped aside to reveal the woman behind her. “Would you care to see her gift?”

“Noble Lady Shu?” There were far too many women in the harem for Hongli to remember every one. Only out of respect for Noble Consort Hui did he give the woman a slight nod.

But when Ming Yu saw her, her heart gave a heavy thud.

She recognized the woman at once—wasn’t this the very selected consort whom she had mocked and ridiculed just days earlier, driving her out of Changchun Palace? How had she ended up under Noble Consort Hui’s protection?

What Nalan Chuxue presented was a glass pagoda. Glass pagodas were not particularly rare, but what made this one extraordinary was the single relic (sarira) enshrined at its top. It was said to be the most precious among the more than seven hundred sarira left after the Song Dynasty monk Xiyuan entered nirvana—the one formed from his heart, and therefore revered by later generations as the “Lotus of the Buddha.”

“Your Majesty,” Noble Consort Hui seized the moment to speak, “hasn’t the Empress Dowager been searching for the Lotus of the Buddha all this time?”

Though the object held little appeal for Hongli himself, it was certain to delight the Empress Dowager.

Seeing someone she had once slighted about to soar to great heights, Ming Yu felt an even greater surge of anxiety and restlessness.

“You have also shown great thoughtfulness,” Hongli nodded, then turned to the Empress. “Empress, in addition to this glass Buddha pagoda, select a few more novel and interesting items from among the other gifts and present them to the Empress Dowager as well.”

“Yes,” the Empress replied humbly, concealing her disappointment deep within her heart.

Compared to the Western orchestra and the pagoda with its sarira, her Nymph of the Luo River painting seemed utterly ordinary and unremarkable. Hongli had given it only a single glance before dismissing it entirely. He never noticed that the figure in the painting bore a faint resemblance to her—three parts likeness—or perhaps he had looked at her for so long that he no longer cared.

“Yingluo,” the Empress said softly, gathering her composure, “take good care of the glass pagoda.”

“Yes, Your Ladyship.” Yingluo gave her a look full of pity, then took the pagoda in her arms. Together with the other palace maids and eunuchs assigned to the task, she left the hall and headed toward the eastern storeroom where the gifts were kept.

Ming Yu’s eyes darted once. Without a sound, she quietly followed after them.

There were so many gifts that the first task for Wei Yingluo was not selection, but to make an inventory register.

“Pair of ‘Ten Thousand Characters and Longevity Medallion Pattern’ palace lanterns on brocade ground.”

Wei Yingluo dipped her brush in ink and wrote the words on the paper.

“Pair of ‘Crane and Deer of Immortal Age’ blue-and-white flower vases.”

She had only written the character for “immortal” when a hand suddenly reached out from beside her and snatched the register away with a sharp motion.

Slightly furrowing her brow, Wei Yingluo turned her head and asked her:

“Ming Yu, what are you planning to do?”

“Registering the inventory and safekeeping the precious items has always been my duty. There’s no need for you to overstep your bounds!” Ming Yu hugged the register tightly; anyone with eyes could see she was determined to seize this task for herself.

Wei Yingluo stared at her. “It was the Empress who ordered me to do the registration.”

Ming Yu had already prepared an excuse on the way here and spoke without hesitation:

“Didn’t you hear what the Emperor instructed? We need to first select two or three items that the Empress Dowager would like. Do you understand the Empress Dowager’s preferences?”

Seeing Wei Yingluo remain silent, Ming Yu felt a wave of relief in her heart and pressed her advantage:

“Since you know nothing about it, don’t stand here getting in the way! Zhenzhu, continue!”

The little palace maid responsible for reading out the names looked helplessly toward Wei Yingluo.

Based on everyone’s understanding of Wei Yingluo, they all thought she would fight to the end—after all, this was a woman bold enough to scold even the Emperor. Yet unexpectedly, she suddenly smiled and said:

“I have only been in the palace for a short time, so naturally I don’t know the Empress Dowager’s preferences. I’ll have to trouble Ming Yu to carefully record everything and select each item properly.”

“Wait!” Ming Yu called out toward her retreating figure. Clearly it was she who had snatched the other’s duty, yet she still put on an air of magnanimity:

“You don’t need to leave. There’s still a lot to handle—you can stay and assist me.”

“No need.” This time Wei Yingluo refused her “generosity” outright. Without looking back, she walked straight out. “Since you’re so eager to show your capability, I naturally wouldn’t dream of stealing your credit. Rest assured, I will report to the Empress that all the merit belongs to you!”

“And I…”

Once outside, Wei Yingluo gazed up at the starry sky, the deep palace all around her, and thought to herself: “This is the perfect opportunity to do something I’ve always wanted to do.”

Palace maids were not allowed to leave the palace without reason, so without the Empress’s explicit permission, she was practically chained to Changchun Palace from morning till night, with almost no chance to visit other mistresses’ palaces—let alone the Qianqing Palace.

“If the night my sister died, someone left Qianqing Palace to go commit the murder in the Imperial Garden, how long would the round trip take? Could they avoid the patrols?”

Standing at the grand hall’s entrance, Wei Yingluo took one step toward the Imperial Garden, silently counting in her heart: “One step, two steps, three steps…”

Step by step she left Qianqing Palace behind, leaving behind the clinking of cups, the flickering lamplight, and the lively banquet. She carried only a single, slender shadow, walking alone into the Imperial Garden.

“Three hundred steps… three hundred and one… three hundred—ah!”

Suddenly a hand grabbed her ankle and yanked her down from the edge where the imperial path met the garden.

The abrupt pull nearly scared the soul out of Wei Yingluo. What was worse, after dragging her down, that hand didn’t behave itself—it wrapped around her from behind, strong arms locking firmly around her waist.

Without thinking, Wei Yingluo stomped down hard with her heel—right onto the other person’s foot.

“Help—!”

She opened her mouth to shout, but a voice as gentle as moonlight murmured softly beside her ear:

“Deep among the stone beams, night hides its game; mist and dew veil the moonlight’s flame. Seizing imperial robes, then hands release; famous flowers fly, fragrance from the sleeve’s crease.”

Wei Yingluo stopped struggling. Leaning back into the embrace, she said in a low voice:

“Young Master, you suddenly grabbed my foot—you really scared me.”

She had only one “Young Master.”

Fuheng held her in his arms inside the tiger cave. Around them rose rugged strange rocks; gray-white stones were covered in climbing vines of vivid green. Tree shadows swayed, casting mottled patterns across their bodies.

“I am, after all, a guard of the Forbidden City,” Fuheng said with a gentle smile. “When I see a little palace maid who doesn’t follow the rules walking along the imperial path at night, naturally I have to pull her down.”

Wei Yingluo gave a humph, clearly dissatisfied with his explanation.

“So you’re saying if any other little palace maid passed by this path, you’d pull her into your arms too?”

“In this entire Forbidden City,” Fuheng sighed, “there is no other palace maid as bold as you.”

Only then did Wei Yingluo curve her lips into a small smile for him.

“Let me guess,” Fuheng said. He understood her better than anyone. “You didn’t sneak out here in the middle of the night just to enjoy the breeze. You must be… trying to retrace the route from Qianqing Palace to the Imperial Garden.”

“You don’t need to go to such lengths,” he continued, sounding somewhat helpless. “Haven’t I already helped you investigate? No one left the banquet that night.”

“There were four hundred people at that banquet—there’s bound to be one or two oversights,” Wei Yingluo insisted stubbornly, refusing to give up her only lead. “Maybe someone slipped away quietly. A round trip wouldn’t take more than half a hour!”

Fuheng shook his head in disagreement: “I’ve walked this path many times. The whole journey can be completed very quickly, but avoiding the patrolling guards is simply impossible.”

Wei Yingluo bit her lip and offered another possibility: “What if the other party comes from a noble background and the guards covered for him?”

Fuheng shook his head again: “The guards are loyal only to the Emperor and take orders from him alone. How could a mere imperial clansman command them?”

Wei Yingluo stared at him for a long moment, then smiled and said: “Not necessarily. Didn’t that Prince Yi listen to Concubine Jia’s instigation and deliberately make things difficult for me?”

And then there was Qingxi… usually such a cautious and careful person, yet he couldn’t resist the temptation of wealth and honor, and so easily betrayed her.

Fuheng was about to say something when suddenly — BOOM — a tremendous sound came from overhead, like the sky was splitting open, like thunder exploding. Wei Yingluo was so startled that she instinctively threw both arms around Fuheng’s waist: “What was that sound?”

She always acted so strong, insisting on handling everything herself, bearing every burden alone. This rare moment of vulnerability, this little girlish gesture, felt both fresh and utterly captivating to Fuheng. He couldn’t help but push many worries aside, simply looking at her, holding her, and smiling: “Look up.”

Wei Yingluo raised her head in confusion.

In that instant, fireworks burst across the sky above the Forbidden City — red, yellow, green, purple — thousands of brilliant colors falling like rain, landing in her eyes, on her face.

“East wind releases flowers on a thousand trees at night,

   blowing down stars like rain.”

   Fuheng was murmuring poetry in her ear again. She didn’t particularly care for this refined, literary stuff, yet she loved the sound of his voice, loved every line, every word, every trace of genuine feeling that came from his lips.

“…The Yuhu’s light turns,

   all night fish and dragons dance,

   moth-eyebrow snow-willow golden threads,

   smiling words and faint fragrance drift away.”

   Fuheng slowly lowered his head. The countless fireworks overhead could not compare to the deep affection in his gaze at this moment. He said to her:

“I searched for her in the crowd a thousand times,

   suddenly turning my head…

   there she was, where the lanterns dimly glow.”

   Wei Yingluo had no idea how she walked back to the eastern side chamber.

She only knew her legs felt weak, as if walking on clouds. Whenever she closed her eyes, it was his voice and the image of his face drawing near with eyes gently closed.

She hurriedly patted her cheeks with both hands, telling herself: “Don’t let anyone notice anything strange. Just say… the wind made my head ache and my face flush red.”

She prepared to muddle through with this clumsy excuse — otherwise she couldn’t explain why her face was so red.

But she soon realized the other party might not even need her explanation.

“You worthless thing!” A sharp slapping sound came from inside the eastern side chamber, followed by Ming Yu’s voice — furious yet tinged with panic. “I told you to watch the eastern side chamber, but you sneaked out to watch fireworks. How are we supposed to explain this to the Emperor and Empress now!”

“I-I didn’t know it would turn out like this!” Zhenzhu’s sobbing voice followed immediately. “Besides, didn’t you go out to watch the fireworks too? Only the officials can set fires, but the common people aren’t allowed to light lamps?”

Ming Yu was furious and raised her hand to slap her again — but Wei Yingluo caught her wrist from behind.

“You came back just in time,” Ming Yu said urgently when she saw her. “Look at what a huge mess she’s caused!”

Wei Yingluo followed her gaze and froze.

The glass pagoda offered by Naran Chuxue stood there — completely empty. The Buddha relic that had been inside had vanished without a trace.

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