Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 126: Everyone Has Jealousy

   Their eyes met for a moment, then quickly darted away.

There was not a flicker of emotion on Wei Yingluo’s face—no joy at seeing a former lover, no rage at seeing an enemy. She was utterly unmoved, as if she had merely glanced at a roadside pebble or a white flower by the water’s edge. With an extremely indifferent and sparse look, she withdrew her gaze.

She passed calmly in front of Fuheng with her attendants, leaving him standing behind her. Though the spring sunlight was bright and warm, he felt as though he were plunged into ice and snow.

Just like back then, when Wei Yingluo had lain prostrate in the freezing cold, watching him walk away side by side with Erqing, the world turning upside down, her heart dying to ashes.

Hailancha sighed, pressed a hand to his shoulder, and said, “A lot has happened. In short… she is now His Majesty’s woman. Fuheng, give up.”

Yangxin Hall.

   “Fuheng, you have not disappointed me.” Hongli looked at him with eyes full of gratification; the admiration was practically overflowing. “You have rendered extraordinary service in Jinchuan this time. I ought to reward you. Speak—what do you want?”

Having achieved such a monumental victory, Fuheng showed not the slightest trace of joy. On the contrary, he seemed lifeless, like a dying man already half-buried in his coffin after a doctor pronounced his death sentence.

After a long silence, he slowly raised his head and stared at Hongli. “Your Majesty… no matter what this servant asks for, will you grant it?”

Though he had not yet said a single word of his request, Hongli seemed to sense something. The joy gradually faded from his face. With an indifferent tone, he issued the decree: “Proclaim: Fucha Fuheng is hereby ennobled as Duke of Loyalty and Valor of the First Rank, and is granted a jeweled crown button and the four-dragon court robe.”

Fuheng was stunned and opened his mouth to say something, but Hongli casually lifted a memorial and held it in front of his face, blocking his view. “That will be all. You may withdraw.”

“…Yes.” Seeing that His Majesty’s mind was made up, Fuheng could only kowtow deeply. “This servant kowtows in gratitude for Your Majesty’s profound grace.”

Hongli nodded. Behind the memorial, his expression was dark and gloomy.

“Your Majesty.” Not long after, Li Yu entered, carrying the green-headed name tablets. The one placed in the most prominent position was, unmistakably, Wei Yingluo’s.

Hongli picked up the tablet and rubbed his thumb over the character “Ling” engraved on it. In a calm voice he said, “Back when we were in Changchun Palace, Fuheng always took very good care of Concubine Ling. Now that he has returned safely from the battlefield, Concubine Ling must have been constantly worried. Knowing he is safe will surely lift a great weight from her heart.”

Li Yu did not know how to respond to this and simply stood quietly to one side.

Suddenly Hongli flung the tablet down hard and said in a muffled voice, “Go to Chuxiu Palace!”

Deep into the night, inside the Fucha residence.

   Cup after cup of wine—emptied, refilled, emptied again.

“Young Master.” Qinglian came in carrying a wooden tray on which rested a bowl of rice and several small side dishes. Concerned, she said, “Young Master, you haven’t touched food or water all day. You won a great victory and received high honors—both are joyful things. Why are you so miserable?”

Fuheng remained silent. He raised the wine cup in his hand and drained it in one gulp.

Qinglian sighed, set the tray down, and was about to withdraw. Halfway to the door, a low, muffled voice came from behind: “Why?”

She turned back and saw Fuheng slumped in his chair, reeking of alcohol. He looked nothing like an ever-victorious general—more like a wanderer fallen to the ends of the earth, alone with only his sword and his wine for company.

“When the battle reached its most desperate moment, His Majesty issued twelve urgent edicts in succession, ordering me to withdraw the troops. I defied the order and refused to retreat. I fought with my very last breath because I was determined to win. As long as I won…” He poured himself another cup of wine and drank, murmuring half-drunk, half-awake, “…then I could ask His Majesty for one wish…”

Qinglian ventured cautiously, “What did Young Master want?”

She was genuinely curious. Fuheng had always been indifferent to worldly desires—power, wealth, women, none of them moved him. Everyone said that among all the officials in court, he was the one who could not be bought, because no one knew what he truly wanted.

“I wanted one person,” Fuheng said.

Qinglian was slightly startled.

“I want to use military merit… to exchange for one person… a person I lost, one I’d risk everything to get back.” Fuheng closed his eyes and slowly uttered two earth-shattering words: “Yingluo…”

Qinglian was so shocked her soul nearly left her body.

The three characters “Wei Yingluo” were a strict taboo in this household.

Erqing constantly dragged those three words into every conversation, cursing and reviling them as though they were the most hateful words in the world. Even after the other woman was promoted to Concubine Ling, she still wouldn’t let it go.

Qinglian had never understood why Erqing hated her so much—until now, when she began to guess a little…

“Do you think I’ve gone mad?” Fuheng opened his eyes and smiled at her. Slowly he raised his right hand and pressed it against his own chest. “On the battlefield I came back from the jaws of death nine times out of ten. There’s a scar here—barely missed the heart. At that moment I thought: if I can survive and return, I will marry her… even if she resents me for it, even if she curses me, I will never be separated from her again.”

“Young Master…” Qinglian opened her mouth, then closed it again. She didn’t know whether to call him infatuated or foolish. In the end she could only let out a soft sigh. “Young Master, you’re drunk.”

“I’ve only just woken from a great dream—now I’m finally clear-headed.” Fuheng gave a rueful laugh. “All this time I thought I was magnanimous and tolerant, that I could suppress my feelings, watch her from afar, and wish her happiness. Only now do I realize it was all self-deception. The moment I learned she had become His Majesty’s woman, I couldn’t sit still. I rushed straight to the Emperor and demanded her from him…”

Hearing this, Qinglian broke into a cold sweat.

“Young—Young Master.” For a moment she could barely speak coherently. “You… you really demanded Concubine Ling from His Majesty?”

Such blatant disrespect—even if Fuheng won ten more battles like Jinchuan, it might not be enough to offset the crime! The entire Fucha household, high and low, could be dragged into disaster because of a single sentence!

   “I’m not quite that insane yet.” Fuheng gave a bitter smile, tilted his head back against the chair, and murmured, “I really am a useless man… right up to the end, I still couldn’t say it out loud…”

Qinglian let out a breath of relief. Seeing him like this, she felt a pang of heartache. She stepped closer, her fingers reaching out, hesitating, stretching forward again—then timidly drew them back behind her.

“Young Master, this isn’t your fault. It’s the cruelty of fate…” She cursed her own lack of education; she couldn’t find the right words to comfort him and could only offer these useless phrases.

Fuheng didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and fell asleep right there in the chair.

Qinglian couldn’t bear to leave him at such a moment. She was afraid that if he woke up in the middle of the night and found no one beside him, he would feel even colder and lonelier. So she stood quietly nearby, watching over him.

The candle on the table burned down to nothing. When Qinglian replaced it with a fresh one, Fuheng’s voice drifted hazily from behind her. He seemed to be trapped in a nightmare—tears glistened at the corners of his eyes, one tear sliding slowly down his cheek as he murmured in his sleep:

“Sister… I regret it so much…”

   Qinglian looked at him. Suddenly she raised her hand; her fingertips came away wet. For some reason, she too began to cry.

Things remain, but people change—everything comes to an end.

Before a word is spoken, tears already fall.

So many things in the world: at the time you feel nothing, but only later, when you think back, does regret come crashing in.

Inside Chuxiu Palace, Hongli regarded the woman crying piteously before him.

Concubine Xiaojia had just finished her month of strict confinement. Fearing she had fallen out of favor, she had visibly lost weight—her sash hung looser, her figure noticeably thinner. Silent tears streaming down her face made her look utterly pitiful.

“Your Majesty, I know I was wrong,” she knelt on the ground, sobbing. “No matter how you punish me, I’ll accept it—just please don’t ignore your concubine anymore!”

“It’s good that you recognize your mistake,” Hongli said calmly. Yet in his heart he thought: How wonderful it would be if she could be as gentle and obedient as you.

Concubine Xiaojia crawled forward on her knees like a small dog terrified of being abandoned by its master. She didn’t even dare stand up. Reaching him, she clutched the hem of his robe with both hands, looked up at him with a pitiful expression, and said:

“Ever since Concubine Ling entered the palace, Your Majesty has paid attention to no one else. I am just a simple, ignorant little woman—my heart holds only Your Majesty. Watching you spend every day with Concubine Ling has been pure torment! In a moment of confusion I made her kneel as punishment! Your concubine knows she was wrong. From now on I will never make things difficult for her again!”

Hongli sighed. “All right, get up.”

Only then did Concubine Xiaojia rise from the floor. But after a moment she let out a soft, plaintive sigh, and—seemingly casually—added:

“Your Majesty, please don’t blame me anymore. Everyone feels jealousy. If only you would share just a fraction of the favor you give Concubine Ling with me, I would never have done such a thing.”

“Everyone feels jealousy…” Hongli slowly rolled the phrase around on his tongue, tasting it. Then suddenly he asked:

“…And what if there is someone who never cares where I go, who never cares whom I favor?”

“That person clearly doesn’t have Your Majesty in their heart at all,” Concubine Xiaojia said without a moment’s hesitation, her words firm and decisive.

Hongli remained silent for a long time.

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