Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 130: Jiangnan Melody

   Why can’t it be you?

   Wei Yingluo’s gaze was empty and distant. After a long silence, she sighed: “I once thought I would stay in the palace forever, stay by Her Ladyship Empress side… and never leave.”

Those years in Changchun Palace—scattered and fragmented, like sweet preserved fruits, like drifting maple leaves—interspersed through the cracks of memory. They were the sweetest taste, the most beautiful scenery, something she could never forget in her lifetime.

“When Her Ladyship was alive, I served Her Ladyship. When Her Ladyship was gone, I served the little prince.” A smile rose on Wei Yingluo’s face—one that Ming Yu had not seen in a long time, a smile that came straight from the heart. “When the little prince grows up and comes of age, I will return to Her Ladyship’s side, guard her tomb, keep her company, talk to her, make her happy… until my bones turn to dust.”

“Yingluo…” Ming Yu’s eyes grew hot with tears.

The woman before her no longer knew what happiness was, for her happiness had long been buried in the yellow earth alongside the Empress.

“…All right, let’s end this topic here.” Wei Yingluo waved her hand, unwilling to discuss it any further. “Find someone for me… someone who can speak the Jiangnan dialect.”

The Forbidden City was full of hidden talents—even someone who spoke the Daishi language could be found, let alone someone who spoke the soft Jiangnan tongue.

There was no need to leave Yanxi Palace. Ming Yu simply called over a sweeping maid from the courtyard.

The maid had only recently entered the palace and had not yet mastered standard Mandarin. As soon as she opened her mouth, the Jiangnan accent spilled out: “This servant—”

Hearing her voice, Wei Yingluo nodded secretly to herself and asked, “Do you know how to read?”

“I know a few characters,” the maid replied.

Wei Yingluo gave Ming Yu a meaningful glance. Ming Yu stepped forward, unfolded a piece of paper, and showed her the words. In her soft Wu-region accent, the maid read each character one by one: “Dear guest, would you like some wine? Sangluo, Xinfeng, chrysanthemum, bamboo-leaf green, and also daughter’s red—which one would the guest like?”

After she finished, she cautiously looked toward Wei Yingluo.

Wei Yingluo reclined in her chair, eyes closed, and said faintly, “Read it again.”

“Dear guest, would you like some wine? Sangluo, Xinfeng, chrysanthemum, bamboo-leaf green, and also daughter’s red—which one would the guest like?”

“Again.”

“Dear guest, would you like some wine? Sangluo, Xinfeng, chrysanthemum, bamboo-leaf green, and also daughter’s red—which one would the guest like?”

“Again.”

“Dear guest…”

The soft, lilting Wu accent echoed through Yanxi Palace, rising and falling, and in this way half a month passed.

On this day the sunlight was brilliant. A grand procession moved along the palace path.

“Noble Consort Chun.” The Empress Dowager walked at the very front, a strip of yellow silk tied over her eyes. With a hint of curiosity she asked, “What exactly are you up to with all this mystery?”

Noble Consort Chun supported her arm and smiled as they walked. “Your Majesty, just listen.”

“Fresh flowers for sale! Two stems for one copper coin!”

“Honored guest, would you like some tea? Finest Biluochun!”

“Sister, buy some cloth! Brand-new stock just arrived!”

A bamboo flute played a Jiangnan tune, and the street was filled with the cries of vendors.

The Empress Dowager reached up and swiftly pulled off the yellow silk from her eyes. Looking around, she saw that both sides of the palace path had been transformed into countless little stalls in the Jiangnan style—some selling tea, some selling pastries, some selling antiques and jade.

Behind each stall stood either a eunuch or a palace maid, dressed like ordinary street vendors and acting the part. The moment someone approached, they would call out loudly. At first glance, one might truly believe they had stepped out of the Forbidden City and straight into a bustling Jiangnan marketplace.

“Noble Consort Chun, what is all this?” The Empress Dowager turned to her in astonishment.

Noble Consort Chun smiled gently: “Empress Dowager, aren’t you always longing for the scenery of Jiangnan? The Forbidden City has no small bridges or flowing streams, so I’ve tried to recreate it from memory—having the eunuchs and palace maids set up a palace market. Though it lacks the tender willows and murmuring water, there are still wine flags fluttering and crowds weaving through the streets. Consider it a small way to bring the Empress Dowager a moment of delight!”

The Empress Dowager gazed at the lively scene before her and sighed with feeling: “Noble Consort Chun, you truly have a thoughtful heart!”

“Noble Consort Chun’s idea is ingenious, but after all, this is not the real thing,” Hongli said as he walked on the Empress Dowager’s other side, giving a slight smile. “I have already decided: in front of Wanshou Temple, along both banks of the Imperial River, I will have a Suzhou Street specially built for you; Empress Dowager. When it is completed, you will be able to see the true scenery of Jiangnan with your own eyes.”

The Empress Dowager was both delighted and worried: “Emperor, isn’t this too much trouble and expense for the people…?”

Hongli replied: “As long as the Empress Dowager is happy, I am completely satisfied.”

Behind them, a crowd of concubines watched Noble Consort Chun with eyes full of jealousy and resentment.

How could they allow her to steal all the glory? Suddenly the Empress smiled and spoke: “Empress Dowager, Noble Consort Chun is indeed clever to quietly prepare such a surprise. In my opinion, since the palace market has already been set up, we shouldn’t merely look at it—we should put it to good use!”

The Empress Dowager asked curiously: “How so?”

Right beside them happened to be a jade stall. The Empress casually slipped the jade bangle from her own wrist and bent down to place it on the stall.

“The war in Jinchuan has only just ended. Though the Great Qing emerged victorious, the casualties were heavy. Many families of the fallen and wounded soldiers have received only very limited compensation, and orphans and widows have nowhere to turn.” The Empress slowly straightened up. “I suggest that every concubine in the palace begin by donating jewelry and valuables for a charity sale. Of course, since it is for charity, it should not be limited to officials and palace staff—we should take these stalls outside the palace gates. The money raised can be used to provide relief for the wounded and bereaved.”

The Empress Dowager, who had always been devoted to acts of charity, immediately intoned “Amitabha Buddha.” Hongli was visibly moved as well: “Empress, your consideration is extremely thorough. It is indeed an excellent idea, and it will not let Noble Consort Chun’s careful preparations go to waste.”

Having her flowers offered to the Buddha by someone else left Noble Consort Chun deeply displeased inside, but on the surface she smiled: “It is the Empress who thinks so comprehensively. I only thought of making the Empress Dowager happy and never considered such a deeper layer. In that case, allow me to do my small part as well!”

With that, she removed the gemstone eardrops from her ears and placed them on the jade stall.

Hearing this, the other concubines all began to take off the jewelry from their heads and bodies, piling everything together.

Hongli stood with his hands behind his back, smiling as he watched the scene. Suddenly his gaze paused, fixing on a wine stall not far away.

A thousand orioles sing amid green willows and red flowers; wine flags flutter over riverside villages and mountain towns. A bright red wine banner billowed in the wind. Beneath it stood four enormous black wine jars, a wooden table, and several chairs.

A young wine-selling girl stood in front of the jars, holding a long ladle. Fine wine poured from the ladle into a bowl with a clear, tinkling sound.

An old eunuch sat before the wine bowl, slowly finishing the drink in his cup. Then he fumbled in his robes, produced two copper coins, and placed them on the table. The girl reached out to collect them when a shadow suddenly fell over her. Looking up, she saw Hongli staring at her with a cold face: “Why are you here?”

Wei Yingluo was dressed in plain cloth and a simple thorn hairpin. She gave a radiant smile, drew a handkerchief from her waist, and neatly wiped the table. When she spoke, her voice carried the soft, authentic Wu dialect: “Dear customer, would you like some wine? Sangluo, Xinfeng, chrysanthemum, bamboo-leaf green, and daughter’s red—which one would you like, sir?”

Hongli looked her up and down. Having grown accustomed to the palace’s cultivated flowers, seeing this wildflower for a change felt remarkably fresh and novel: “Concubine Ling, what is this costume of yours?”

“Today there is no Concubine Ling—only a wine-selling girl. These are all famous Jiangnan wines, a rare treat!” Yingluo said with mock seriousness. “If you don’t buy, I’ll have to sell to someone else! Sangluo twenty wen a pot, Xinfeng twenty-five wen, chrysanthemum wine thirty wen, bamboo-leaf green twenty wen, daughter’s red twenty-five wen—come buy, come buy!”

Hongli became interested and decided to play along, adopting the manner of a customer. He pointed at one of the jars: “What wine is this?”

Wei Yingluo scooped up a ladleful and offered it to him: “Authentic Dukang wine, sir—give it a sniff.”

Hongli’s lips curved slightly. Like the most difficult of customers, he found fault left and right: “Sangluo and bamboo-leaf green both come from Shanxi—when did they move to Suzhou? Before selling wine, shouldn’t you at least check the market prices? Who would dare buy from you like this?”

Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned.

Footsteps sounded behind them. Hongli turned slightly and saw the Empress Dowager and the others approaching. He frowned faintly, quickly took the ladle from Wei Yingluo’s palm, casually tasted a sip, smacked his lips, and declared: “This wine is no good. Empress Dowager, let’s go look ahead!”

Having finished speaking, he turned and led the Empress Dowager and the others down a different path.

He was just like a drinker with a gluttonous stomach, unwilling to share the fine wine he had finally found with anyone else.

Wei Yingluo: “Your Majesty, my wine ladle! You still haven’t given it back to me—”

Before her words were finished, Hongli had already unfastened the jade pendant from his waist and handed it to her behind his back. “This can cover the wine money!”

Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned. She reached out to take it, only to realize that the “wine money” was a pretense—the real intent was teasing. Hongli lightly pinched the center of her palm.

It was like lovers in the heat of passion, secretly writing a time and a place in each other’s palms behind their elders’ backs, planning to meet when the moon rose above the willow branches, in the twilight after dusk.

   Wei Yingluo slowly withdrew her hand and smiled toward his departing figure.

That night, Hongli returned to Yanxi Palace after a long absence.

Li Yu’s eyes darted left and right, following his master’s steps back and forth, yet he always lingered outside the palace gate, never stepping inside.

Suddenly a line of palace maids approached from the distance. Leading them was Ming Yu, carrying a redwood food box in her hands—she had apparently just returned from the Imperial Tea Bureau with a midnight snack for her mistress. When she looked up and saw Hongli, she quickly curtsied and prepared to leave. Hongli remained silent, but Li Yu grew annoyed: “What kind of manners are these? Seeing His Majesty arrive, you still don’t go and ask your mistress to come out and greet him?”

Ming Yu lowered her eyes demurely and replied, “My mistress said that since His Majesty is sure to pass by without entering, she won’t waste her energy.”

Hongli had originally been hesitating about whether to go in or not. Now, provoked by her words, his expression darkened and he made up his mind. “She’s being clever again!”

With that, he no longer hesitated and strode toward the sleeping chamber.

Behind him, Ming Yu’s lips curved in the faintest, almost imperceptible smile. Suddenly Li Yu’s voice sounded beside her ear, slow and deliberate: “Your mistress is scheming against His Majesty again, isn’t she?”

Ming Yu quickly suppressed the smile on her face and feigned innocence: “What are you saying, Chief Steward Li? My mistress was simply speaking the plain truth!”

“Keep pretending—go on pretending.” Li Yu tsked twice. “But let me tell you this: His Majesty is harboring anger in his heart right now. Even if Concubine Ling manages to draw him here, it might not be a good thing!”

Ming Yu froze and looked anxiously toward the sleeping chamber.

The doors of the bedchamber opened and then closed again, shutting the eunuchs and maids outside.

“Concubine Ling.” Hongli looked at the person approaching him. “What is this outfit you’re wearing?”

Wei Yingluo walked gracefully toward him, still dressed in the same wine-seller’s costume from earlier that day: a skirt the color of freshly brewed green-ant wine, a wooden hairpin slanted in her cloud-like chignon, and on her raised right hand, a small white-jade wine flask dangling from her fingertip.

“‘The flower path has never been swept for guests; today the humble door opens for you alone.’” Wei Yingluo twirled her finger, making the little wine flask chime softly with a ding-dong. “What wine would the honored guest like to drink tonight?”

Hongli neither took her wine nor answered her question. He looked like a man who had wandered into the wrong shop, as though the very next step would carry him away from this place—and from her.

And that was only natural.

A commoner’s attire could startle him for only a moment; a snatch of a southern folk tune could draw him here at most. Wei Yingluo knew full well that both had limited effect—neither was enough to change his heart. To truly melt the ice between them and reconcile…

—it all depended on what she did next.

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