Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 175: More Gratitude

   There were not many things that could truly concern Wei Yingluo, but Ming Yu’s marriage was one of them.

This girl had been with her for many years. Though nominally mistress and servant, they were truly like sisters. Wei Yingluo’s own life had been full of hardship, so she hoped Ming Yu would not follow the same path. After careful scrutiny, she had finally chosen a suitable match for her.

“Mistress, about Ming Yu…” Xiaoquanzi hesitated at the door, wanting to speak but stopping himself.

Wei Yingluo was stunned for a moment, then pushed the door open. The room was in utter disarray—betrothal gifts scattered across the floor. Ming Yu sat with her back to her and said coldly, “Get out!”

“Ming Yu!” Wei Yingluo frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

The betrothal gifts had been delivered by the guard commander Hailancha. This man was currently highly favored by Hongli, and what was even more valuable was his upright character. The elders in his family had only ever taken one wife each—no concubines. Growing up in such a household, Hailancha was very likely to marry only one woman as well.

If it meant a lifetime with just one partner, then even if his family was somewhat poor, it hardly mattered. In any case, Wei Yingluo had already prepared a generous dowry, more than enough to support the couple’s household.

Ming Yu turned around. Seeing it was her, she said coolly, “I won’t marry.”

If she had opposed the match from the very beginning, Wei Yingluo naturally would not have forced her. But now the exchange of birth charts had already taken place—what did she mean by saying this now? Wei Yingluo frowned: “Ming Yu, you and Hailancha are deeply in love. The betrothal gifts have already been sent. Why are you suddenly saying you won’t marry?”

Ming Yu: “I don’t care. In any case, I cannot marry him. I absolutely cannot!”

Wei Yingluo: “If you won’t marry, at least give me a reasonable explanation.”

Ming Yu’s eyes gradually reddened. How could she possibly tell Wei Yingluo the truth?

Years ago, Noble Consort Chun had tormented her by inserting many needles into her body. Some had been removed, but others remained buried deep in her lungs and vital organs. Over time, they had become fatal curses. Ye Tianshi had said… there was no cure.

With a body like this, how could she ruin someone else’s life? Ming Yu pushed Wei Yingluo aside and rushed toward the door: “I just won’t marry anyone—never!”

“Ming Yu!” Wei Yingluo hurriedly chased after her.

The commotion they made was so great that it could not be hidden from the servants nearby.

Whether Ming Yu married or not, the betrothal gifts could not simply be left scattered on the floor. Xiaoquanzi brought several palace maids in to clean up. By the time they finished, it was nearly time for lunch. Among them, two found a shaded spot to eat, while one quietly slipped away from the others and went to Baoyue Tower.

Inside Baoyue Tower, the Empress Dowager removed a string of jade beads from her own wrist and slipped them onto Chenbi’s. The beads were green as spring water, accentuating the fair, lotus-root-like whiteness of Chenbi’s arm even more beautifully.

The Empress Dowager stroked Chenbi’s hair, smiling kindly with benevolence:

“The more time I spend with you, the more familiar and dear you feel to me. This is just a small gift—accept it.”

Chenbi leaned against her knees, like a child basking in maternal affection, gazing at her with tender warmth:

“Empress Dowager, I have traveled thousands of miles to reach the capital. You are not the first person to show me care, but you are the first to make me feel the warmth of a mother.”

No words could be more touching than these. The Empress Dowager was instantly moved, grasping her hand and saying:

“If you’re willing, from now on, treat me as your mother.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Chenbi bit her lip, looking at her somewhat hesitantly. “If Your Majesty truly cherishes me, could you allow me to make one request?”

“What do you want?” If she could hear her call her “Mother” even once, the Empress Dowager would pluck the moon from the sky for her.

Chenbi: “Empress Dowager, Consort Ling has been diligently teaching me the rules and etiquette, and I am deeply grateful to her! Seeing her hands covered in wounds from copying the blood sutras, I truly can’t bear it. I humbly beg Your Majesty’s mercy to spare her from this painful task.”

The Empress Dowager’s expression shifted slightly: “Did she complain to you?”

Chenbi looked somewhat flustered, waving her hands repeatedly: “No, no, Consort Ling hasn’t said a word. Please don’t misunderstand, Your Majesty!”

The Empress Dowager’s heart sank, but to reassure her, she smiled and said: “You’re right. Drawing blood harms the body and goes against the Buddhist principles. Very well, she’s excused.”

“Your concubine thanks Your Majesty’s grace on behalf of Consort Ling!” Chenbi said with great joy.

The two shared a midday meal. The Empress Dowager, being advanced in age, returned to Shoukang Palace for a nap after eating. After seeing her off, Yizhu came to report: “Mistress, news from Yanxi Palace.”

“Oh?” Chenbi smiled. “What good news?”

Yizhu recounted the matter of Ming Yu refusing a marriage proposal, then pursed her lips, somewhat puzzled: “Mistress, I haven’t seen Consort Ling treat you particularly well. Why do you keep helping her time and again? You even specifically pleaded with the Empress Dowager to spare her from that hardship…”

“What do you know?” Chenbi touched the ruby pendant on her earlobe, giving a half-smile. “It’s not enough, far from enough… I must continue to repay her.”

Suddenly, she removed the pendant from her ear, placed it in a brocade box, and instructed Yizhu to deliver it to Yanxi Palace. Since she frequently sent gifts to Yanxi Palace, Wei Yingluo wasn’t surprised. In the spirit of reciprocity, she had Ming Yu deliver a box of nourishing supplements in return.

“Ming Yu,” Chenbi casually set the supplements aside and took Ming Yu’s hand. “I heard you’re about to get married?”

Ming Yu froze for a moment, assuming Wei Yingluo had told her, and gave a muffled hum in response.

“Is your health up to it?” Chenbi let out a soft gasp, looking at her somewhat sheepishly. “Actually, that night, I overheard your conversation with Ye Tianshi…”

“You—you know?” Ming Yu said, a little panicked.

“Poor Ming Yu.” Chenbi raised her hand to gently stroke her face. “You haven’t told Yingluo, have you? It must be so hard to keep it bottled up inside.”

Ming Yu bit her lips tightly, the pressure turning them red, as if blood might seep out.

“There’s no cure—you will surely die,” Chenbi said softly. “But what’s truly terrifying isn’t death itself, but the process of dying. One day, one month, one year… You don’t know when it will strike. But when that day comes, your husband will resent you, your mother-in-law will hate you, and they’ll even turn their hatred toward Yingluo. They’ll say, ‘Oh, Consort Ling, how could you marry a dying woman into our Soulun family?’”

“Stop it!” Ming Yu shouted, then pleaded, “Please, don’t say any more…”

“You could choose not to marry, but then the only one who would suffer is Yingluo,” Chenbi sighed. “She loves you so much, trusts you so completely, treats you like her own sister. She personally selected a husband’s family for you, sewed your wedding dress with her own hands… only to watch you die suddenly in the end.”

“No, no!” Ming Yu covered her face with her hands, tears spilling through her fingers. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this…”

“But you have no other choice,” Chenbi rested her chin on Ming Yu’s shoulder, her bright red lips brushing against her ear, her voice beguiling and hypnotic. “Ming Yu, remember my words: as long as you’re still alive, you must step onto that bridal sedan…”

A few days later, at Yanxi Palace.

A delicate hand parted the beaded curtain, the beads clinking together with a crisp sound, like pearls large and small falling onto a jade plate.

Ming Yu emerged from behind the curtain, dressed in a rainbow-hued ceremonial robe with phoenix crown and swaying hairpins, adorned with layers of jeweled necklaces that tinkled softly with every step.

Like any doting parent watching their daughter about to marry, Wei Yingluo looked her up and down, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes. “Turn around.”

Ming Yu reluctantly spun in a circle. The hem of her skirt flared out, spreading a vivid field of red through the air.

“Good, good, good!” Like every foolish parent in the world, at that moment Wei Yingluo could only repeat the one word: good.

Suddenly Ming Yu grabbed her hand. Her bright, beautiful face was filled with panic. “Yingluo… I can’t bear it. I really can’t bear it. I don’t want to marry. Please, I beg you—don’t make me go through with this marriage!”

Her fear stemmed from a matter of life and death, but Wei Yingluo mistook it for ordinary pre-wedding nerves.

“Ming Yu, you are like a little sister to me.” Wei Yingluo took her hand and spoke softly to comfort her. “Back then, my older sister told me that when I got married, she would personally make my wedding dress for me. Unfortunately, such beautiful clothes are something I will never have the chance to wear in this lifetime. But—I hope that you can wear them.”

Ming Yu froze.

“If the Empress were still here and saw you getting married, she would surely be happy too.” Wei Yingluo gently stroked her cheek, a trace of melancholy mixed with consolation in her voice. “Our wishes have all come to nothing. So, Ming Yu, you must be happy. Please—you have to be happy!”

Ming Yu closed her eyes. Tears streamed down without stopping.

At that moment, Xiaoquanzi came to report that Concubine Rong had arrived at the palace to learn court etiquette.

“She hasn’t fully recovered yet—what etiquette is there to learn?” Wei Yingluo shook her head. “Ming Yu, I’ll go keep her company. You stay here.”

Dressed in full wedding attire, Ming Yu was in no condition to receive outsiders. She watched Wei Yingluo leave, then slowly turned her gaze to the rhombus-shaped mirror. Reflected in the glass was the wedding dress—all crimson, like blood that had not yet dried.

Knock, knock, knock. A few gentle taps at the door. “Ming Yu, it’s me—Yizhu.”

Ming Yu came back to herself and opened the door. “Yizhu, why are you here?”

Yizhu was holding a box in her hands. It looked like another gift, but this time the recipient was not Wei Yingluo. Smiling sweetly, she placed the box beside the rhombus mirror. “My mistress said that the last time she saw your accessories, they were all quite old. So she specially had a set made of pure gold as a little something to add to your dowry.”

She left the box and departed. Ming Yu remained silent for a moment before reaching out to open it.

Inside the box, it was as if a small sun had been placed there. A sudden burst of golden light shot out. Ming Yu narrowed her eyes. After a while, she could finally make out the contents clearly: a pure-gold pair of tweezers, a gold ear spoon, a gold mirror, and a pair… of gold scissors.

Her gaze fixed on the golden scissors. In a daze, the voice that had once sounded so bewitching and seductive echoed again in her ears: “Ming Yu, the rice is already cooked. Remember my words—as long as you are alive, you will have to board the bridal sedan.”

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