Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 137: Embroidery

   Night, in the sleeping chamber of Yangxin Hall.

The one keeping watch was Li Yu. He held his whisk, standing ramrod straight by the edge of the bed. It was already the third watch of the night, yet from behind the bed curtains still came the sound of restless tossing and turning.

Finally, Hongli threw back the covers. “I can’t sleep. I’m going out for a walk!”

That walk took him straight into Yanxi Palace.

His dragon boots crunched on the snow—creak, creak. Hongli walked with uneven steps, one foot sinking deep, the other shallow. At one point he accidentally stepped into a snow-filled hollow.

“Your Majesty, careful!” Li Yu hurriedly reached out to steady him.

“What’s going on!” Hongli pulled his foot out, somewhat annoyed. “Has the snow in Yanxi Palace not been cleared even once since winter began?”

Though the noise he made wasn’t huge, it wasn’t small either. Normally, the night-duty palace servants should have gotten up to check. Yet even after Hongli reached the outside of the sleeping chamber, not a single person emerged.

Hongli’s brows furrowed. Li Yu, reading his expression, said, “Aiya, Your Majesty, these servants really have no sense of propriety…”

Hongli suddenly raised a hand, signaling him to be quiet.

In the pitch-black Yanxi Palace, a single point of light shone.

Hongli walked toward that faint light. As he drew closer, he realized it was a single candle flame, flickering weakly in its holder, casting a tiny point of light and a trace of warmth onto the broken, gaping hole in the window.

He stood just outside the window. Through that hole, borrowing the meager glow, he looked in at her.

Everyone in Yanxi Palace seemed to have vanished, leaving only Wei Yingluo behind. She sat alone under the lamp. It was already deep into the third watch of the night, yet she was still bent over her embroidery.

The room must have been freezing, because every so often she would pause, rub her hands together, bring her faintly purplish fingers to her mouth, and breathe warm air onto them. Only after some feeling returned would she pick up the needle and thread again.

Not only was the room cold, it was also terribly dim. Perhaps to make the candle last longer, she had pinched the wick down to the smallest, thinnest possible flame. Sitting beside such a feeble light, Wei Yingluo had to stop and rub her eyes every few stitches.

Even Li Yu, seeing her in such reduced circumstances, felt a pang of pity—let alone him. He stole a careful glance at Hongli and, sure enough, saw heartache written plainly across his face.

It would be a lie to say Hongli felt no resentment at all.

But no matter how much resentment he harbored, he had only avoided seeing her—he had never deliberately made things difficult for her… at least, he had never once thought of tormenting her through the basic necessities of food, clothing, shelter, or warmth!

Couldn’t you eat something? Couldn’t you wear thicker clothes? If nothing else, couldn’t you let the candle burn a little brighter? Don’t make me feel this guilty, please?

—These words surged and churned in Hongli’s chest, yet he could not bring himself to speak a single one aloud.

Whoosh—

Inside the room, the candle flame suddenly leaped.

Wei Yingluo quickly set down her needlework and reached out to shield the flame, protecting it from the cold draft pouring in through the broken window.

The flame danced violently for a moment before finally steadying. Wei Yingluo let out a soft sigh. Her gaze drifted unconsciously toward the window. Hongli hurriedly ducked aside, yanking Li Yu along with him. The two of them pressed themselves flat against the wall like geckos for a long while until Li Yu, chilled to the bone, lowered his head and sneezed.

Hongli shot him a fierce glare.

Li Yu immediately clapped both hands over his mouth and looked back at him with innocent, wide eyes.

After waiting a while, Hongli cautiously peeked inside again. Seeing that Wei Yingluo had returned to her embroidery with head bowed, he let out a quiet breath of relief.

“Your Majesty,” Li Yu whispered, “aren’t you going in?”

Hongli shook his head and turned to leave.

Though his body walked away, his heart remained behind.

That night he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her breathing warmth onto her palms, saw the sharp, thin point of her chin, saw the Guanyin embroidery in her hands.

—Yet unexpectedly, the very next day, he saw that same Guanyin embroidery again.

In the Empress Dowager’s palace.

   The room was heated with smokeless charcoal; even in winter, it felt as warm as spring. The Empress Dowager held the embroidered image in her hands, her eyes filled with undisguised delight:

“This Guanyin Bodhisattva is dignified yet approachable, full of compassion for all beings. The skin is round and pure, and the folds of the robes and sashes are so truly lifelike. This time the embroidery workshop has truly put in great effort!”

Noble Consort Chun smiled faintly. “Empress Dowager overpraises. Since this Guanyin image is a gift offered to you, how could they dare not give it their all?”

The Empress Dowager nodded with a smile and turned to have it hung up. “Emperor, come and take a look as well.”

When he drew closer, Hongli became even more certain: the embroidery before him was exactly the one Wei Yingluo had been working on. He cast a glance at Noble Consort Chun and saw that she was chatting and laughing with the Empress Dowager, not mentioning Wei Yingluo even once. On impulse—almost as if guided by some unseen force—he suddenly reached out and touched the painting:

“The hair on this Guanyin looks so lifelike—it doesn’t seem like embroidery thread. Could it be… real human hair?”

The Empress Dowager turned to Noble Consort Chun. “The embroiderer used real hair to create the image?”

Noble Consort Chun glanced at the Buddha statue. “Han people and Manchus are different. For Manchus, cutting the hair is a grave disrespect, but for Han people, using strand after strand of black hair in embroidery shows an even deeper devotion to the Bodhisattva! This is an old custom, called ‘hair embroidery.’”

Hongli’s finger traced the single red dot between Guanyin’s brows. “This dot is clearly blood.”

Noble Consort Chun lowered her eyes slightly. “Your Majesty, this might merely be a coincidence. The embroiderer’s blood fell onto the frame, and to hide it, she turned it into a red mark on the forehead.”

The Empress Dowager sighed in admiration. “This embroiderer is truly ingenious. I really would like to meet her.”

How could Noble Consort Chun allow Wei Yingluo to share even a sliver of favor? She immediately smiled and said, “Empress Dowager, the embroidered image was not the work of one person alone. It was a joint effort by the most outstanding embroiderers in the entire workshop. If you wish to see them, I will personally summon them.”

The Empress Dowager held the embroidery and nodded. “A skilled embroiderer with good needlework is common enough in the palace, but one who puts such heart into it is extremely rare. She should be properly rewarded.”

Hongli looked at Noble Consort Chun’s innocent, guileless face, his expression complicated.

Back in the Yangxin Hall, he still could not calm his mind. One moment the image of the single drop of blood between the Bodhisattva’s brows flashed in his head; the next, he saw Wei Yingluo coughing as she stitched. After pacing restlessly for a long while, he suddenly vented his frustration by kicking over the brazier. “Send this to Yanxi Palace!”

Li Yu glanced at him. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Wait!” The Emperor called him back. “Remember—this is not from me!”

Li Yu: “It is the Imperial Household Department wishing to make amends for their negligence, and so they specially sent a new charcoal brazier. This servant understands. Your Majesty may rest assured!”

Hongli scoffed with a sneer.

As Li Yu picked up the brazier to leave, Hongli tapped the table. “Send a glazed palace lantern as well. I don’t like blind people!”

“Yes.” After acknowledging, Li Yu suddenly asked, “Your Majesty, since you cannot bear to part with Concubine Ling, why not go and see her?”

Hongli snapped, “Silence!”

Li Yu immediately slapped his own face. “This servant spoke out of turn!”

But Hongli was not angry at him. He rose abruptly, hands clasped behind his back, pacing back and forth in the room. Grinding his teeth, he said, “I’m not concerned about her. I simply will not allow anyone in the harem to be mistreated. Those dog-slaves in the Imperial Household Department—even if Concubine Ling is out of favor, they have no right to trample on her!”

Li Yu: “Your Majesty may rest assured—this servant will punish them severely!”

When one is poor, even in a bustling city no one asks after you; when one is rich, distant relatives appear from everywhere. The moment it became clear that Hongli had softened, Yanxi Palace—previously deserted—suddenly came alive again. Eunuchs bustled about carrying braziers, hanging palace lanterns; even the bed curtains and window paper were replaced with new ones.

Though there was much work to do, there were now even more hands to do it.

The palace servants who had previously scattered to seek other opportunities now returned to Yanxi Palace. To make up for past wrongs and prove their loyalty to their master, they scrambled to work—none complained of hardship, none claimed fatigue.

Hardship or exhaustion was not what they feared. What they feared was Wei Yingluo settling accounts after autumn.

“Oh my, isn’t this Chief Steward Wu? What a rare visitor.” Ming Yu came over with hands on hips. “How is it that Your Honor has time today to condescend to visit our humble Yanxi Palace?”

Wu Shulai smiled obsequiously. “Ming Yu, with winter here, Yanxi Palace still hasn’t been properly prepared—Concubine Ling has suffered! This servant only just learned of it and immediately brought people over. We only beg Her Ladyship’s forgiveness! When this servant returns, he will certainly flay them alive!”

In the palace, those who fawned on the high and trampled the low were many—and this Wu Shulai was one of them.

Logically speaking, given the connection from the embroidery workshop days, even if he wouldn’t help Wei Yingluo, he shouldn’t have kicked her when she was down. But in reality? He controlled the Imperial Household Department, and Yanxi Palace lacked this and that—sometimes they couldn’t even get a bowl of hot food.

Ming Yu remembered all of it. Now that the tide had turned, she had no intention of being polite. She sneered coldly. “Winter has been here for over a month. Which palace doesn’t have braziers and lanterns? Do you yourself believe the words coming out of your mouth, Chief Steward Wu?”

Wu Shulai was a ruthless man. Without caring that his subordinates were still standing nearby, he slapped himself hard twice. “It was all this servant’s fault—entirely this servant’s negligence! Concubine Ling is magnanimous—please, please forgive this servant!”

Of course he was unwilling to lose face in front of his subordinates, but face mattered—yet preserving his position mattered even more.

Word had already spread through the palace that the Emperor was furious and intended to investigate the matter of the Imperial Household Department’s harsh treatment of Concubine Ling. If he didn’t beg for mercy now, in a few days he might not even have the chance to do so.

…He truly regretted it! How could he have been so blinded by greed as to help that person torment Concubine Ling?

   They had known each other for years!

   Back when she was still in the embroidery workshop, he had already taken a liking to Concubine Ling and had helped her time and again. One could say that part of her current status was thanks to his assistance.

   If only he had kept cultivating that connection, today he wouldn’t be worrying about an investigation—he’d be thinking about how to climb even higher.

   He was a fool. Truly a fool!

   Wu Shulai was filled with regret. Now all he could do was look pleadingly at Wei Yingluo, hoping that for the sake of their past friendship she would forgive him this once and put in a good word for him in front of the Emperor.

But though he stared at her longingly for a long time, Wei Yingluo merely kept her head down, focused on her embroidery, without so much as glancing at him.

Wu Shulai grew even more uneasy, and his manner became increasingly fawning and obsequious: “Whatever instructions Concubine Ling may have in the future, as long as you say the word, this servant will definitely carry them out—definitely! If anything like this ever happens again, this servant will cut off his own head and offer it to Your Ladyship as a seat!”

“Enough!” Ming Yu glanced at Wei Yingluo, then said to him, “Chief Steward Wu, Concubine Ling dislikes noise. You should take your people and leave quickly!”

“Right away! This servant will leave immediately!” Wu Shulai kept looking back with every step, but Wei Yingluo never once lifted her head to look at him.

People say new clothes are never as good as old ones, and new friends are never as good as old ones—but people like him weren’t even as good as an article of clothing.

At least clothing could provide a bit of warmth in freezing weather. Yes, he had helped Wei Yingluo back in the embroidery workshop, but she hadn’t taken his help for nothing. The reason he could sit securely as Chief Steward of the Imperial Household Department today—pressing everyone else down so they couldn’t even lift their heads—was in no small part thanks to Wei Yingluo’s contributions.

Yet when she needed help, he had been stingy even with a single basin of charcoal.

“Your Ladyship,” Ming Yu said, “he’s gone.”

Only then did Wei Yingluo raise her head and glance toward the door.

“Don’t blame me for being heartless,” she thought to herself. “If I let him off lightly this time with just a casual pardon, everyone will think I’m weak and easy to bully. They’ll climb up to me today, then kick me down when I’m at my lowest… because in the future, as long as they casually apologize, I’ll supposedly accept it without question.”

Another group of footsteps entered Yanxi Palace.

One person carried a charcoal brazier; another held a glazed lantern.

Yanxi Palace was no longer what it had been just a few days ago. The palace no longer lacked these things. If Wei Yingluo wished, she could even replace the candlelight with the night-luminous pearls bestowed by Hongli—a full box of them sat on the table, their brilliant glow enough to illuminate the entire chamber.

“Your Ladyship.” Ming Yu looked toward Wei Yingluo, her eyes asking what should be done with these items.

Wei Yingluo pondered for a moment, then let out a soft, amused laugh: “He’s reminding me… that it’s time to go express my gratitude.”

That night, in Yangxin Hall.

   Hongli was reviewing memorials, but his mind was clearly not on them. The moment he heard footsteps outside, he immediately set down his brush. When he saw who had entered, the smile on his face slowly faded. He asked: “Concubine Ling isn’t coming to express thanks?”

Li Yu was taken aback, then smiled ingratiatingly: “Your Majesty, Concubine Ling is not in the palace at the moment.”

A brush was flung at his face. Hongli said coldly: “Get out!”

“Yes, yes.” Li Yu hurriedly bowed and retreated. Before leaving, he gave a subtle look to a young eunuch beside him. The young eunuch lowered his head, carried forward a bowl of lotus seed soup, and approached.

This little eunuch was dressed in an arrow-sleeved horse jacket and court boots, his figure petite and delicate. Hongli glanced over and found him extremely unfamiliar, assuming he was a new apprentice brought in by Li Yu, so he said coldly, “Put the things down and get out.”

“Understood.” The little eunuch replied in a pinched, high-pitched voice. He placed the lotus seed soup on the desk, but his hand impudently reached out to stroke Hongli’s fingers. Hongli was startled and about to flare up in anger when he suddenly froze. With one swift motion, he yanked off the eunuch’s hat. “Wei Yingluo!”

A glossy black braid tumbled down over her right shoulder. Wei Yingluo tilted her head toward him and smiled—a smile so charming and playful it was impossible to describe.

Hongli exploded in fury. “Who allowed you in here? Li Yu! Li Yu!”

She gently placed a finger over his lips and said softly, “Your Majesty, I missed you.”

Like a tiger with a chain around its neck, like a kite held by strings, the raging Hongli suddenly fell silent, his eyes fixed on her.

“And you?” Wei Yingluo lightly caressed his lips—gentle and ticklish. “Does Your Majesty not miss your consort even a little?”

Hongli seized her wandering fingers and grumbled, “That dog of a Li Yu actually dared to let you in without permission. And look at what you’re wearing—more and more outrageous!”

Though his words were full of complaint, his hands were honest enough. In one motion he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

Wei Yingluo’s body was soft and delicate. Sitting on his lap, she behaved like a child—restless hands and feet included. One small foot lightly stepped on the back of Hongli’s foot as she let out a soft, aggrieved hum. “If Your Majesty hadn’t gotten jealous for no reason, your consort wouldn’t have had to dress like this just to sneak out of the palace and see you.”

“And you still dare blame me? It was you and Fuheng—” Hongli’s face grimed once more at the mention, and unconsciously, the hand resting on her waist loosened.

But Yingluo caught his hand and guided it firmly back to her waist. “Your Majesty is truly petty. You’ve stayed angry for so long and still can’t let it go. Yes, the late Empress did intend to betroth me to Lord Fucha.”

Hongli: “You—!”

Yingluo did not shy away in the slightest. “But didn’t Your Majesty personally reject it?”

Hongli: “That was only because I was afraid you would ruin Fuheng! There was not the slightest personal motive!”

“Yet I wishes that you did have personal motives—because I also has personal motives toward you.” Wei Yingluo looked at him earnestly. “Perhaps in Your Majesty’s heart, I am insignificant, but I am already your wife. From now on, there is only one master for me, and there will only ever be one husband—you!”

Without the brazier, the room was somewhat cold, but Hongli’s heart warmed because of those words. After a long silence, he gently took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “We will never mention this matter again. You won’t bring it up, I won’t bring it up, and no one in the palace is permitted to mention it either. Whoever dares spread such rumors to harm you in the future… I will execute them without mercy!”

“Your Majesty…” Tears shimmered faintly in Wei Yingluo’s eyes. She called out softly, then buried herself against his chest, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Hongli sighed and wrapped her tenderly in his arms, holding her close to his heart. He felt that this woman was like a thorn lodged in his heart: pulling it out would hurt, leaving it in would also hurt. Over time, it had grown into his flesh and become part of his very blood and bone—something he could no longer separate himself from.

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