Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 82: Ten Thousand Purples and Reds

   After the disaster relief news reached the rear palace, Noble Consort Hui slammed her palm heavily on the table. “What a performance from Consort Xian! Pretending to be virtuous in the Forbidden City wasn’t enough—now the entire capital is praising her, saying she has dignity and can command the masses! Every winter for years, this palace has set up sheds outside the city to distribute grain. These ingrates have forgotten it completely—their eyes see only Consort Xian. All my efforts have been fed to the dogs!”

Naran Chuxue quickly comforted her. “Niangniang, please calm your anger. When a good deed is done every year, people stop appreciating it. Consort Xian has always kept a low profile—suddenly pulling off something big like this naturally draws attention. But as long as the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet is handled properly, how could Niangniang fail to shine?”

Noble Consort Hui took a deep breath. “This time, I will make her lose all face! Zhilan, how are the preparations for the Empress Dowager’s birthday gift coming along?”

Zhilan: “Your Ladyship Noble Consort, ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ has finished rehearsal and is ready for inspection at any time!”

Noble Consort Hui: “This palace wants to see it personally. Instruct them to prepare everything tonight!”

“Yes!” Zhilan hesitated for a moment before adding, “However, four of the artisans attempted to escape and were killed on the spot. Niangniang, what do you think…?”

Noble Consort Hui sneered. “Four, forty, even four hundred—this palace doesn’t care how many die. I only care about the final result!”

Harboring a belly full of resentment and determined to outshine Consort Xian, Noble Consort Hui hastily finished dinner and left Chuxiu Palace. Her large entourage swept grandly toward the side courtyard. Suddenly, Noble Consort Hui halted, her face lighting up in surprise. “Your Majesty, why have you come?”

The joy vanished in an instant as she looked at the woman standing beside Hongli. Her expression darkened. “Consort Xian, you’re here too.”

Consort Xian was dressed today in a light green robe—pure, and understated—adding a touch of cool, verdant freshness to the sweltering summer heat. She gave Noble Consort Hui a gentle, graceful smile. “I heard that Your Ladyship Noble Consort has meticulously prepared a birthday gift for the Empress Dowager. This humble consort has come with His Majesty to admire it. Your Ladyship Noble Consort does not mind, I trust?”

Noble Consort Hui returned a smile of her own. “I mind very much. Can you turn around and leave immediately? Since you cannot, then why bother asking?”

The two locked eyes for a moment in silent confrontation. Seeing that Consort Xian remained unruffled and impossible to provoke, Noble Consort Hui decisively shifted her target. She turned her gaze back to Hongli and said, “Your Majesty, please take a look today. If their performance is good, on the day of the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet, this consort will arrange a troupe of twelve performers. The spectacle will surely be even more magnificent! Zhilan, tell them to begin!”

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

The performers of “Ten Thousand Purples and Reds” were several craftsmen wearing bamboo hats and thick padded jackets. The elderly leader stepped forward first. He dipped a white ladle into the molten iron; flames instantly leaped up. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing liquid iron flew toward the cold palace wall. The clash of extreme heat and cold produced a deafening roar as the molten iron exploded outward like thousands of blooming flowers.

“The furnace fire lights up heaven and earth, red stars scatter through purple smoke. The blushing youth under the bright moon, his song stirs the cold river.” Consort Xian recited a poem softly, sighing in admiration. “Thinking about it carefully, isn’t this exactly the scene Li Bai described?”

Hongli actually nodded in rare agreement. “Qiupu was a famous copper-producing region. When Li Bai passed through and saw the copper slag being poured out, sparks flying everywhere, it must have looked just like a smelting scene on an autumn night! Yet this ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ spectacle far surpasses even the fire of smelting!”

The old man continued, ladle after ladle of molten iron soaring into the air. The other craftsmen followed his lead—one scoop after another. It was as though beautiful fireworks were crashing against the palace wall: on the icy stone, they burst into strings of fierce, brilliant sparks that shot upward into the sky. In the moment they fell back, they transformed into a dazzling rain of flowers across the dark night.

The light fell across Noble Consort Hui’s face; her smile shone as brightly as the fireworks themselves. “Your Majesty, this consort plans to build a special performance stage and personally choreograph a dance. Beautiful dancers will swirl gracefully amid the flying sparks—it will surely astonish the Empress Dowager!”

Hongli smiled with clear satisfaction. “Noble Consort’s ingenuity is truly remarkable. If ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ is performed on the Empress Dowager’s birthday, it will surely shock the world!”

Noble Consort Hui’s expression filled with pride. Taking advantage of the moment when Hongli’s attention was captivated by the shower of sparks, she leaned back slightly in her chair and whispered to Zhilan, who stood behind her: “The performance stage—build it right here when the time comes!”

Zhilan bent down and murmured, “Niangniang, isn’t that a bit too close?”

Noble Consort Hui: “What are you afraid of? It’s not as if you’re the one dancing. Build it right here!”

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

Zhilan turned and instructed a nearby eunuch: tomorrow, he was to have the craftsmen from the Inner Affairs Department come measure the site.

The eunuch: “Understood!”

While they spoke, another craftsman stepped onto the stage. This one was noticeably small in stature and his technique was far less polished. Though he tried to imitate the old man’s movements, his actions appeared stiff and unnatural… almost as though he were injured.

Hongli was still engrossed in watching the rain of fire. Noble Consort Hui was busy giving orders to her servants. Only Consort Xian noticed the newcomer. Her gaze flickered toward him for a brief instant before she deliberately looked away, pretending she had seen nothing.

The small craftsman moved closer to Noble Consort Hui without drawing attention. Suddenly he raised his hand in a swift motion and, in a deliberately pinched voice, called out: “Niangniang.”

“Hm?” Noble Consort Hui turned her head—only to see a shower of molten iron flying straight out of the ladle toward her face. She screamed in terror, hands flying up to shield her delicate features.

Shouts of alarm erupted all around. Hongli had been standing some distance away from Noble Consort Hui and would not have been in danger—but he immediately rushed toward her. “Noble Consort!”

The splashing molten iron and flying sparks nearly struck him as well. At that moment, Consort Xian threw herself forward. “Your Majesty, be careful!”

Sparks landed on Consort Xian’s back. She cried out in pain and collapsed into Hongli’s arms, trembling violently from the agony. Hongli’s expression changed drastically. “Consort Xian! Someone—come quickly!”

The guards hurried over. Leading them was none other than Fuheng. His sharp eyes swept the scene and instantly locked onto the anomaly.

A short-statured craftsman was attempting to slip away from the chaos!

“Stop!” Fuheng shouted loudly.

Fuheng chased after the other person, but unexpectedly the old craftsman quietly made a hand signal. The other craftsmen understood at once. The next moment,

more and more molten iron was splashed toward the palace wall. Golden rain flew through the air; dazzling golden light blazed before everyone’s eyes. Fuheng had been only one step away from catching the young craftsman, but the intense glare blinded him momentarily. When he opened his eyes again, the figure had already vanished.

Fuheng was furious beyond measure. With one swing of his sword he knocked the iron ladle from the old man’s hand: “Everyone, stop at once!”

The ladle clattered to the ground. The craftsmen immediately halted their work. The old craftsman did the same—he stood with head bowed and posture respectful, looking utterly docile. Only when his peripheral gaze swept toward Noble Consort Hui, who was writhing and wailing in pain on the ground, did a trace of bone-deep hatred flash in his eyes.

“Huff… huff—” In a palace corridor, a small craftsman wearing a gray cap ran panting for breath. The sound of pursuing footsteps grew closer and closer. Suddenly a hand reached out from around the corner and pulled her aside.

The cap slipped off, revealing Wei Yingluo’s slightly pale face.

“Shh.” Yuan Chunwang drew her into his arms, one hand covering her mouth.

Wei Yingluo had been struggling fiercely, but upon hearing his voice she immediately went still.

The sound of the pursuers’ footsteps rushed past them and gradually faded into the distance.

Before Wei Yingluo could even breathe a sigh of relief, Yuan Chunwang was already pulling her along: “Let’s go.”

The two had just dashed out of the corridor when dense footsteps surged toward the corner where they had been hiding. Fuheng rounded a pillar, bent down to pick up the gray cap lying on the ground, then slowly turned his face in the direction the two had fled. In a cold voice he ordered:

“He almost fooled me. Pursue them!”

The group split up to chase, since the path ahead branched into many directions. Fuheng led three guards and pursued all the way to the outside of the Long Alley, where he suddenly halted and shouted:

“Stop right there!”

The sound of rolling wheels came to an abrupt stop. Yuan Chunwang, who had been pushing the night-soil cart, turned his face toward them with a perfectly calm expression: “My lord, what’s the matter?”

Fuheng walked over, his gaze dropping to the cart: “Open it.”

Yuan Chunwang looked at him in surprise: “But this is a night-soil cart!”

Fuheng huffed with a sneer, drew the sword at his waist, and with one flick of the blade knocked the lid off the cart. It fell to the ground with a clatter. In an icy tone he ordered:

“Search it.”

A guard stepped forward to inspect, then shook his head: “Nothing.”

The cart was completely empty. Yuan Chunwang’s expression looked utterly innocent, yet for some reason the more Fuheng looked at him, the more displeased he became. Suddenly his gaze shifted and landed on a shadowy figure skulking not far away. Without another word he abandoned Yuan Chunwang and strode rapidly toward the figure. Fearing the person might escape just like before, he seized their arm in one swift motion.

“Ow!” The cry that followed was unmistakably familiar. Wei Yingluo turned her head, anger flashing across her face. “What are you doing!”

“…It’s you!” Fuheng was momentarily stunned. Unconsciously he loosened his grip, and even his tone softened by several degrees. “There’s an assassin in the palace. I’m pursuing the assassin.”

Yingluo raised the brush in her hand: “Would an assassin be scrubbing night-soil buckets inside the palace?”

“I’m sorry—it’s my duty.” Fuheng had no intention of making things difficult for her. He turned back and asked, “Have you all finished searching?”

The guards conducted a quick inspection and immediately replied: “No one!”

Fuheng let out a breath of relief: “Yingluo, forgive the disturbance!”

After watching him hurry away, Yingluo finally exhaled in relief, tossed aside the brush, and prepared to leave.

“Stop.” A clear, crisp voice sounded behind her.

“Cough cough cough!” Wei Yingluo gave several very deliberate coughs before turning around. “I’m seriously ill right now. Whatever it is, can we talk about it tomorrow…?”

“Seriously ill?” Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. He gripped Wei Yingluo’s arm firmly, pulled up her sleeve, and said, “Looks more like seriously injured to me!”

In the moonlight, Wei Yingluo’s arm was covered in vivid red—clearly burns.

Wei Yingluo cried out in pain: “What are you doing?”

“Tell me!” Yuan Chunwang stepped closer, his gaze burning. “Where did the injury on your arm come from?”

Yingluo forcefully pulled her hand back, her voice lacking conviction: “It’s just from working… I got hurt during regular tasks…”

“Heh.” Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. “The ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ technique is very easy to burn yourself with. The scars on your arm are exactly from molten iron burns.”

“No, it’s not…” Wei Yingluo still tried to argue, but his next words cut her off: “Laiwang has already told me everything.”

Laiwang was the name of the young craftsman whom Wei Yingluo had replaced. The boy had suffered serious injuries while training in the “Ten Thousand Purples and Reds” technique. It was precisely to seek justice for this child—and to secure his future—that the old master had agreed to let Wei Yingluo take his place on stage and teach Noble Consort Hui a lesson.

Hearing the name, Wei Yingluo knew he was fully aware of everything. She immediately shut her mouth and said nothing more.

“Was it to avenge the dead craftsman?” Yuan Chunwang stared at her. “Or was it… for the Empress?”

Yingluo quickly raised her head to glance at him, then just as quickly lowered it again.

Yuan Chunwang instantly understood. His laughter grew even colder, laced with mockery and an emotion that was hard to define: “Just for such a tiny, insignificant favor, you were willing to gamble your own life. What a fool!”

His right hand gently touched Wei Yingluo’s cheek. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the fingers that were always as cold as a snake’s tonight carried the faintest trace of warmth.

“…I’ve also treated you very well.” Yuan Chunwang lowered his eyes to look at her, his voice low, almost a murmur. “If I were the one in trouble, would you… also gamble your life for me?”

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME