Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 153: Heart-to-Heart

After returning from Chengqian Palace, Hongli felt a deep sense of bewilderment.

He didn’t want to go back to the Yangxin Hall. The table there was covered with memorials singing praises—on the surface lauding Naerbu’s death as well deserved, but in reality praising him for the killing itself.

And when he looked at the names of those who had submitted the memorials—ha! —they were precisely the real culprits who had embezzled the disaster-relief funds.

A wave of nausea rose in Hongli’s heart—disgust toward them, and disgust toward himself. His feet wandered aimlessly until, without realizing it, he found himself at Yanxi Palace.

A strain of music drifted out from inside—not the zheng, not the qin, neither flute nor drum.

Hongli paused, then stepped inside and saw the music box on the table.

Inside the music box, a pair of doll-like lovers with golden hair and blue eyes, dressed in Western formal attire, held each other’s hands and twirled gracefully to the melody. Beside it, Wei Yingluo had taken Ming Yu’s hand; both wearing palace-style qipao, they too twirled to the music—until with an “Ouch!” Wei Yingluo exclaimed, “Wrong, wrong! Yin said it’s not supposed to turn like that. Let’s start over.”

Ming Yu’s fingers were nimble—she could make all kinds of delicate snacks—but her feet were far less cooperative. After a few more stumbling steps, she gave up. “This servant isn’t dancing anymore. I can’t do it!”

Wei Yingluo: “Come on, just try again!”

Hongli watched for a while. The two of them kept stepping on each other’s skirts and toes, hopping around like shamans in a ritual dance. He couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Hearing his voice, both women hurried over to curtsy.

“What are you doing?” Hongli waived the formal greeting, reached over, and wound the music box to play a different tune.

Wei Yingluo smiled brightly. “This Western gadget was just gathering dust in the Imperial Household Department. I specially asked Yin—the Frenchman—for advice. He even demonstrated a segment of the dance for me.”

Hongli was both annoyed and amused. “I had the French missionary stay in the Forbidden City specifically to revise the calendar and improve firearms—not to entertain you with dancing lessons.”

Wei Yingluo didn’t answer his words. She simply smiled, stepped forward, placed her hands on his waist, and led him into the dance.

A waltz—much like the relationship between man and woman: you advance when I retreat, you retreat when I advance.

It was precisely the kind of dance well suited to couples. Even if one partner had no idea what they were doing, under the other’s guidance they quickly picked it up.

“How is it?” Wei Yingluo smiled. “Isn’t it fun?”

By now Hongli was already dancing quite decently. He had just begun to smile when his face suddenly darkened again. “Did you dance like this with that foreigner too?”

“Like what?” Wei Yingluo asked on purpose.

Hongli scoffed with a sneer and pinched her waist.

That spot was especially ticklish. Wei Yingluo burst out laughing from the pinch and hurriedly grabbed his fingers. “No, no! Yin only demonstrated it to a little eunuch for me to watch.”

Only then did Hongli’s expression clear, shifting from cloudy back to sunny.

“Your master really has her ways,” Li Yu observed quietly, noting the change. He leaned toward Ming Yu and whispered, “His Majesty has been in a foul mood these past two days. Only here, in your palace, has he finally shown a smile.”

Ming Yu watched the two people spinning nonstop in front of her, covering her mouth and laughing continuously.

Li Yu was puzzled by her laughter: “What are you laughing at?”

“Wait a moment.” Over there, Hongli also sensed something was off. He frowned in confusion. “It feels like… something’s not quite right, doesn’t it?”

Wei Yingluo blinked innocently: “What’s not right?”

“…” Hongli’s hand slowly slid down, catching the hand that Wei Yingluo had placed on his waist. He raised an eyebrow with a hint of danger. “I’ve heard that when Westerners dance, the man places his hand on the woman’s waist—so why are you—Wei Yingluo, you’re deliberately teasing me again!”

Wei Yingluo obligingly took his hand in return and placed it on her own waist.

Hongli: “…Do you think doing that will stop me from getting angry?”

“Your Majesty, don’t be angry anymore.” Wei Yingluo slowly leaned her head against his shoulder. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

They leaned close together, performing the most intimate steps of the waltz. Accompanied by the roundelay tune from the music box, they spun and spun and spun…

A bright full moon rose into the sky.

Tired from dancing, the two sat side by side at the window, gazing at the bright moon outside.

“Your Majesty.” Wei Yingluo looked up at him. “You’re unhappy again?”

Hongli was often unhappy; only rarely could he laugh freely. Now he had returned to his usual solemn expression and said lightly: “Yingluo, if there is someone who absolutely must be killed, what would you do?”

Wei Yingluo smiled: “Kill him.”

Hongli was stunned and lowered his head to look at her: “What if he has been wrongly accused?”

Wei Yingluo: “Release him.”

Hongli: “…And if he has been wronged, but for the sake of the greater good he still must be killed?”

Without the slightest hesitation, Wei Yingluo replied: “Both kill and release.”

At first Hongli thought she was speaking reasonably, but when she said that, he felt she was just brushing him off: “What kind of answer is that!”

“On the surface, carry out the execution without fail; in secret, swap him with a substitute.” Wei Yingluo said, “Your Majesty could find a death-row prisoner who resembles him closely and secretly exchange the two—wouldn’t that work?”

Hongli was stunned at first, then burst into loud laughter: “Do you think the Ministry of Justice’s prison is a vegetable market? When someone is beheaded, their identity must be verified!”

“Of course I know that before a beheading the identity must be confirmed. And I also know exactly who the ‘he’ in your words refers to,” Wei Yingluo said.

Hongli’s smile froze.

After a long silence, Wei Yingluo spoke first: “…Lord Naerbu. In the end, Your Majesty still wanted to kill him.”

Hongli grumbled in a muffled voice: “Nonsense! I’ve never thought any such thing!”

“But even if you granted the Empress a favor and changed the sentence from beheading to exile, would he be safe on the road to exile? There is no one in the world the Son of Heaven cannot eliminate if he truly wishes it. You simply—” Wei Yingluo paused, but still finished the sentence, “—did not want him to live!”

Hongli stared at her with a dark expression for a long time before giving a faint smile: “You’re right.”

He rose from beside Wei Yingluo and walked alone to the window. Placing both hands on the railing, he looked down at the scenery below—pavilions, towers, palace maids, and eunuchs—all shrinking in his gaze.

“…Naerbu did not embezzle disaster relief grain. But he committed two wrongs: first, he knew of the corruption and failed to report it; second, he was muddled and incompetent. In various places across eastern Zhejiang, similar situations existed to a greater or lesser degree, yet not a single riot broke out elsewhere, and no disaster victims starved to death.” Hongli gripped the railing tightly and spoke slowly. “Sometimes an incompetent and muddle-headed official does no less harm than a corrupt one. He may have been wrongly accused, and the Empress may plead for him—but who will speak for the disaster victims who died unjustly? I sentenced him to exile only out of consideration for the Empress’s feelings, giving him a relatively dignified way to die. I simply never expected that the Empress Dowager would act one step ahead…”

After a slight hesitation, he asked in a low voice, “Yingluo, do you think I am a very cruel emperor?”

“Yes.”

Hongli’s expression darkened.

A pair of hands slowly reached out from behind him and wrapped around his waist.

“But so what?” Wei Yingluo pressed her face against his back. “Your Majesty, you always want to be a perfect person, but where in this world is there such a thing as a perfect person? Execute corrupt officials, and the corrupt officials will hate you. Execute incompetent ministers, and the incompetent will resent you. Let them hate if they must hate; let them resent if they must resent. Once the move is made, there is no regret—never look back!”

Hongli slowly began to smile. “Well said. Once the move is made, no regret—never look back!”

Moonlight shone upon the mortal world. Beneath the railings, beneath the pavilions, Zhener rushed about like a headless fly. In her distraction, she suddenly collided with someone.

“Zhener?” Seeing her dazed and disoriented appearance, Hongzhou frowned. “Why aren’t you attending to the Empress? What are you doing running around here?”

“Chengqian Palace, the Imperial Garden, the Household Department…” Zhener’s eyes were unfocused as she rattled off a long string of places. Then she suddenly lifted her head, looked at him, and burst into tears. “None of them! I can’t find Her Majesty the Empress anywhere!”

Hongzhou’s heart jolted. Forgetting all propriety, he seized her arm. “What did you say? What’s happened to the Empress?”

“The Empress is missing.” Zhener had been searching all day; she was already frantic and at her wit’s end, sobbing uncontrollably. “This servant has looked everywhere—everywhere—and can’t find her. I didn’t dare tell anyone else…”

Hongzhou shot a fierce glare at the eunuch who had been leading the way. The eunuch understood at once and immediately lowered his eyes, pretending he had heard and seen nothing.

Turning back, Hongzhou said gravely to Zhener, “We’ll split up and search two separate paths. We must find Her Majesty the Empress before anyone else notices she’s gone.”

Though the Forbidden City was vast, once they excluded the places Zhener had already searched, the area became much more manageable. The two quickly divided the remaining locations between them and set off in different directions.

Not here. Not here. Not here either… Hongzhou hurried past the base of a corner tower, then suddenly stopped. He looked up. When he clearly saw the figure standing atop the tower, he cried out in shock, “Empress!”

Thump, thump, thump—his boots pounded rapidly up the wooden stairs.

In almost an instant, Hongzhou reached the top of the corner tower, breathing hard. He stared at the Empress standing barefoot on the railing ahead, his voice trembling. “Empress, what are you doing? Please come down first, all right?”

The Step Empress slowly turned her head. In the moonlight, her face looked deathly pale. “…Did you think I was going to jump from here?”

With that, she turned back around, spread her arms wide, and took one step after another toward the edge of the tower.

With every step she took, Hongzhou felt his heart rise into his throat. Without thinking, he followed her forward.

If the Step Empress were to lose her footing at this moment… the palace servants would likely discover two bodies the next day.

“I’ve been standing here all day,” the Step Empress suddenly stopped and gazed into the distance. “I just wanted to know what it felt like for Fucha Rongyin when she stood in this very spot.”

Then she laughed—a laugh that was unusually light and carefree.

“Fucha Rongyin and I entered the household one after the other. She was the gentle, dignified principal wife; I was the cautious, careful side wife. We had many things in common, yet we were also very different. What we shared was entrusting our true hearts to our husband. What differed…” The Step Empress lowered her head to look at the drop below. “…was that she jumped from this very place, while I became the lofty Empress.”

No wonder this spot had been so deserted all along the way—palace maids and eunuchs seemed to deliberately avoid it.

   This was the very place where the late Empress had fallen to her death.

   The ground below looked clean and spotless, yet it bore blood, tears, and the lingering souls of the departed.

   Hongzhou said gravely, “Empress, what is past is past. Why bring it up again? You are not Fucha Rongyin, and you will never become her.”

“Indeed, I am not Fucha Rongyin. Even standing here, I have never once wished to die.” The Step Empress sighed and turned to look at him. “Do you know why?”

Hongzhou gazed at her.

“Because I’m not willing to accept it,” the Step Empress said softly. “I once thought that by becoming the mistress of the six palaces, by becoming the Empress of Great Qing, I would never again be trampled upon, never again have to tread so carefully. But I was wrong. In the past, Consort Xian could not protect my mother and brothers. Now, as Empress, I still cannot protect my father… because the power I hold is too little, far too little…”

“No, it’s not like that…” Hongzhou wanted to comfort her, yet he didn’t know how.

He had personally investigated the matter of Naerbu. He knew the truth better than anyone.

Even the reason for his death—he could guess seven or eight parts of it…

Everything was just as the Step Empress had said. Even as Empress, she still could not protect her own father—because the one who wanted her father dead was her husband, the current Emperor.

“It’s not like that… You just…” Hongzhou said miserably, “You simply still held hope in His Majesty…”

And he had let down your hopes…

The Step Empress said nothing.

The moonlight fell on her thin shoulders, making her appear all the more solitary and pitiful.

And her husband? He was probably staying at Yanxi Palace again tonight…

Hongzhou looked at those shoulders. As if possessed, he reached out his hand, yet stopped a palm’s distance away, not daring to place it there.

“Go back,” the Step Empress suddenly spoke without turning her head. “Both you and I should return.”

With that, she slowly turned around, once again resuming her usual dignified and virtuous demeanor. If not for the tear stains on her cheeks, no one would have guessed she had been crying.

Hongzhou could only follow suit and revert to the role of a subject. Respectfully, he stepped aside to let her descend the stairs first. Watching her lonely figure gradually move farther away, his expression was complicated. His fists clenched and unclenched, until finally he could no longer hold back and called out:

“Empress, in the future, if there is ever anything Hongzhou can do for you, please tell me. I want to… do something for you.”

The Step Empress’s steps paused for a moment. She did not turn back, and continued walking forward.

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