Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 138: True Heart

   One cup of wine beneath the moon; drinking alone, yet it feels like three.

Under the same moon, Yangxin Hall held two shadows facing each other, while in the cool pavilion of the Fucha residence, Fuheng sat alone.

“Young Master,” Qinglian entered the pavilion carrying a cloak in her arms. “You’ve had too much to drink…”

At Fuheng’s feet lay seven or eight empty wine jugs. He poured himself another cup, threw his head back, and drained it in one go. Then, half-drunk and half-sober, he laughed. “Today was the first time I ever schemed against His Majesty. That deserves a toast.”

Qinglian was stunned. “Schemed against His Majesty?”

Glug glug—the wine poured into the cup again. Fuheng smiled. “Yingluo caught Xiaoquanzi stealing. Using him, she planted stolen goods during the palace market and dragged Noble Consort Chun into the mess—that was the first step. Then she deliberately held back and did nothing, letting Concubine Xiaojia believe she had gotten away with it. She used Xiaoquanzi’s weakness to turn the tables and bite Concubine Xiaojia back—that was the second step. But those two moves alone were far from enough. Though she is favored, she has always carried one hidden danger.”

Qinglian: “What Young Master means is—Concubine Ling’s past?”

Fuheng tilted his head back again, and another cup of wine was emptied. One cup after another, he became drunk, and the words hidden deep in his heart slipped out unconsciously:

“I once pleaded before the Emperor for marriage, and for Yingluo’s sake I repeatedly contradicted him. That left a thorn in the Emperor’s heart. When I return from the battlefield, the Emperor will surely still harbor resentment. He is an emperor, but he is also a man…”

Qinglian nodded as if she understood but didn’t fully understand.

Let alone an emperor—even an ordinary man would not tolerate his wife having an affair with another man.

“…Moreover, this man is his own wife’s younger brother, his most trusted confidant,” Fuheng said faintly. “As long as this thorn remains, no matter how favored Concubine Ling is, she will always be walking on thin ice, in constant danger! Rather than that, it would be better to pull out the thorn herself…”

“Young Master…”

“I’m here.” Fuheng raised his drunken, hazy eyes to look at her; his gaze was gentler than the moonlight. “Yingluo, as long as you need me, I will be here, no matter in what form.”

Qinglian was startled. What did he just call her? Yingluo… Concubine Ling?

She had always felt something was strange before, even harboring a tiny bit of expectation. Among all the maids in the Fucha residence, Fuheng treated her differently from the others. She didn’t know why, and neither did anyone else; there had been plenty of private speculation. Only today did everything finally become clear.

“Is it my eyes, my appearance, or my voice?” Qinglian wondered to herself. “Which part of me… looks like Concubine Ling?”

“Are you doing well now?” Fuheng asked her softly. “Have you… obtained everything you wished for?”

Qinglian remained silent for a long time before cautiously reaching out and gently placing her hand on the back of his.

“I’m fine,” she replied softly. Even if only for this moment, even if only right now, she wanted to become Concubine Ling, so that he could treat her with such tenderness.

“That’s good.” Fuheng seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. With drunken, bleary eyes he looked at her. “As long as I can help you, that’s enough. Rest assured—I’ve already done everything I could for you. The Emperor has now tasted what defeat, jealousy, and longing feel like… all of them firsts in his life. Once he has experienced these, he will…”

As he spoke, he slowly slumped forward onto the table, burying his face and expression in his own arms, murmuring:

“…truly place you in his heart…”

In the past, you were merely a favored consort. From now on, you will be the woman the Emperor truly holds in his heart.

The wine cup on the table was pushed by him and fell to the ground with a clink.

Qinglian hurriedly bent down to pick it up, then softly called him: “Young Master… Young Master…”

The only response was faint snoring.

Qinglian gazed at him quietly. After a long while, she gently draped the cloak in her hands over him and said in a low voice:

“But Young Master, this is really too unfair to you. The Emperor gained your loyalty from you, Concubine Ling gained your love from you, but you yourself… have nothing.”

Outside the pavilion, the tree shadows flickered. Erqing, also holding a cloak, hid behind a tree, coldly watching the two people in the pavilion.

In Yanxi Palace, the garden was once again filled with gardenias in full bloom.

   Interestingly, these flowers seemed to symbolize the rise and fall of Yanxi Palace’s fortunes. When Wei Yingluo fell out of favor, even the potted plants would be moved out to Yong Alley to be used for smoking chamber pots. When Wei Yingluo regained favor, the entire courtyard would be overflowing with gardenias, blooming in luxurious splendor like a dream.

Gardenias bloomed in the courtyard, yet what was painted on the xuan paper was a spray of orchids.

“This stroke is not done like that.”

Hongli stood behind Wei Yingluo, holding her hand and guiding her stroke by stroke to paint.

Unfortunately, some wood cannot be carved. Even though he was already teaching her hand-over-hand, the orchid on the paper still looked crooked and twisted—at first glance, one might mistake it for a monster from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

“Not like that. Sparse flowers and simple leaves—that’s the true charm of an orchid.” Hongli firmly grasped Wei Yingluo’s hand and forcibly pulled back the wayward stroke, preventing the orchid from growing two extra mustaches. “Steady! Sigh… you should learn from Noble Consort Chun. Noble Consort Chun paints the best orchids—light brushstrokes, yet full of noble character.”

Wei Yingluo scoffed with a sneer, snatched the brush, and with a few swift strokes added three more orchid blooms.

Hongli said in surprise: “Yingluo, what are you doing?”

Wei Yingluo: “I just don’t like those extremely simple orchid paintings. The more vulgar and gaudy, the better. Is that not allowed?”

Hongli laughed despite himself: “You’re being completely unreasonable.”

Wei Yingluo: “If the Emperor thinks Noble Consort Chun paints so well, then go accompany her in painting! Your humble consort is just a vulgar person to begin with, so naturally what I paint is very vulgar!”

So it wasn’t that she was unteachable rotten wood — she was simply jealous.

Indeed, with a whole courtyard full of gardenias, why on earth would she paint orchids? This was Yanxi Palace, not Zhongcui Palace which was filled with orchids everywhere.

Hongli found it a little amusing inside and spoke to coax her: “Alright, alright, I misspoke for a moment. Your painting has already improved tremendously.”

Wei Yingluo turned her face away and ignored him.

Hongli gave an appeasing smile: “Why are you so easily angered? It’s all my fault for comparing you to others.”

Seeing that she still wouldn’t pay attention to him, Hongli thought for a moment, suddenly picked up the brush, and with a few quick strokes added two more flowers to the orchid painting. Then he held it up for her to see: “Not angry anymore? Now I’m being vulgar together with you. Satisfied now?”

Only then did Wei Yingluo slowly turn her face back: “Emperor, you have always been very vulgar!”

Hongli laughed: “In what way am I vulgar?”

Wei Yingluo grinned and pointed toward the bookshelf.

Hongli: “What about it?”

Wei Yingluo walked over, took out a scroll, and couldn’t help laughing out loud: “This scroll of ‘Autumn Colors at Que and Hua’ — you actually managed to get it back?”

Hongli: “What are you laughing at?”

Wei Yingluo unrolled the painting and pointed at one seal after another: “One, two, three, four, five… more than forty seals in total, all your imperial ink treasures and stamps. Happy — stamp one. Unhappy — stamp one too. It’s just like the dog-skin plaster I used to see being sold under Tianqiao Bridge — impossible to peel off once stuck!”

No one is a sage; everyone has some small flaws and quirks. But Hongli was the Emperor — normally no one dared point them out. Now that Wei Yingluo had bluntly said it, he felt a little embarrassed. He slapped the table heavily: “Insolent!”

Yet Wei Yingluo acted as if she hadn’t noticed the darkening of his face. Smiling brightly, she tossed the scroll aside, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist: “Your Majesty, the moment I said you were vulgar you got so angry! Put yourself in my shoes — when you say I’m vulgar, of course I’m unhappy too!”

This time it was Hongli’s turn to scoff and huff and turn his face away, refusing to look at her.

The tables had turned. Now it was Wei Yingluo’s turn to coax him: “Alright, alright, I’m not angry anymore, and Your Majesty shouldn’t be angry either, okay?”

But Hongli wasn’t as easy to placate as she was: “Punishment — copy my imperial poems one hundred times!”

Yingluo looked shocked: “Your Majesty, I really don’t like any of your poetry and prose. How about you punish me by copying Tang poems instead?”

Hongli: “Wei Yingluo!”

She burst out laughing, raised both hands, and gently pinched his earlobes on either side, half-coaxing, half-acting spoiled: “Fine, fine, I’ll copy imperial poems if that’s what you want. But there’s no good inkstone in my palace. This black-gold inkstone of yours is so precious and beautiful — won’t you give it to me?”

Hongli pulled her hands down: “No manners at all! The black-gold inkstone is unheard of in the world, extremely rare. I only have this one!”

Her unruly hands were pulled away, but quickly reached out again — first wrapping around his arm and shaking it, then hugging his neck and shaking it, until finally she had shaken his heart as well.

“Fine, take it, take it — it’s all yours!” he said grumpily. “Stop laughing. Come here and properly finish the orchid painting!”

With that, he pulled her into his arms and began teaching her how to paint once more.

“…And what is this now?”

“The Emperor couldn’t tell.”

“Say it.”

“It’s a mantis.”

“Wei Yingluo!”

At the door, De Sheng and Li Yu looked at each other in astonishment.

“Chief Steward Li.” De Sheng’s eyes were full of disbelief. “This servant has been in the palace for so long, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen a woman like Concubine Ling.”

Li Yu: “Don’t say you’ve never seen one—I’ve never seen one either! Three thousand beauties in the harem, all gentle, obedient, and compliant. And then there’s this one singular oddity, Concubine Ling.”

De Sheng stole a glance inside the room and lowered his voice: “Chief Steward Li, just now this servant saw Concubine Ling actually pinch the Emperor’s ear, and she even dared to pat the dragon’s head! Heavens! I was so frightened my heart nearly jumped out—I thought the next moment her head would roll!”

Li Yu sighed: “Everyone else treats the Emperor as the supreme Son of Heaven, but she’s the only one who treats him like an ordinary man! She laughs, she scolds, she does whatever she feels like. When she’s unhappy, she dares to throw a tantrum right in his face—and strangely enough, the Emperor actually likes it! What a bizarre thing!”

De Sheng shook his head: “This Concubine Ling is truly terrifying. She’s constantly stroking the dragon’s whiskers! Even if others knew the secret to her favor, who would dare imitate her? One misstep and—off with their head!”

Li Yu let out a short laugh, then quickly composed his face: “Hurry up and go change the tea—”

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