Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 167: Sunken Jade

   Sometimes, Wei Yingluo couldn’t help but think: the older the ginger, the spicier it gets. Even she herself hadn’t clearly seen into her own heart, yet the Empress Dowager had seen it clearly. That was why, under the pretext of an order, she had made her write a letter to Hongli.

But that was all there was to it. Hongli could never forgive her, and she could never forgive herself. The only connection left between them in this lifetime would be entrusted to these family letters.

Yet the Empress Dowager would not let her have her wish.

The month’s end had not yet arrived when the Empress Dowager suddenly summoned her. She lay reclining in a rocking chair with her eyes closed while Aunt Liu knelt to one side, gently pounding her legs. All of a sudden she spoke:

“Consort Ling, how long has it been since the Emperor last replied to your letters?”

Wei Yingluo was taken aback.

The Empress Dowager continued: “Ming Yu, you tell her.”

Ming Yu was an honest person, so she answered straightforwardly:

“Three months ago, Consort Ling sent a family letter into the palace. After that, she never received any reply.”

“Consort Ling, your days have been far too comfortable,” the Empress Dowager said meaningfully. “You should think carefully about why the Emperor no longer writes back to you.”

On the way back from the Empress Dowager’s bedroom, Ming Yu tried to comfort her:

“Don’t worry. It must be because the Emperor has been too busy lately…”

“What am I worried about?” Wei Yingluo said softly. “I already expected this. He won’t wait for me forever. There will surely be someone younger, someone more beautiful, to take my place…”

Even though she said it that way, a sour ache still rose in her heart.

Back in her own residence, she spread out snow-white letter paper on the table. The candle burned down to nothing; night passed into dawn. Finally, Wei Yingluo set aside the brush whose ink had long since dried and said:

“Let’s go.”

Ming Yu, who had stayed up with her the entire night, asked: “Where to?”

“To take my leave of the Empress Dowager.” After a pause, Wei Yingluo turned around, looking at Ming Yu with a complicated expression. “Will you blame me? I promised the Empress that I would never become his consort…”

Ming Yu shook her head and gently took her hand, speaking tenderly:

“I believe in you. If the Empress were still alive, no matter what, you would never have become His Majesty’s consort.”

Wei Yingluo lowered her head; tears fell.

The Empress Dowager, despite her age, rose very early. When Wei Yingluo came to pay morning respects, she was already having breakfast. On the table were bird’s-nest roast duck, braised spring bamboo shoots with fat chicken, a dish of Huizhou tofu, a jar of red-bean congee, and more—fragrant and colorful. Unfortunately, the Empress Dowager seemed to have little appetite today; most of the dishes remained untouched. She merely picked up an orange and ate it slowly.

After listening to Wei Yingluo’s purpose in coming, she said indifferently:

“You should have come sooner. Fortunately, it’s not too late to say it now. You haven’t disappointed me too greatly.”

Wei Yingluo was stunned by the words.

“Consort Ling, you do have some ability—to make the Emperor so worried about you, so unable to forget you.” The Empress Dowager looked at her with eyes that saw clearly through right and wrong. “But starting from today, you must prepare yourself: you are no longer the most special one! For the past three months, the Emperor has not thought of you even once! Perhaps the days at the Yuanmingyuan have been too peaceful, numbing your sharpness. Or perhaps you have been too confident—confident enough to completely forget one saying: there is always someone better, and heavens beyond the heavens!”

Wei Yingluo felt a chill in her heart. She asked gravely:

“Dare I ask Your Majesty, who exactly is this ‘someone better,’ this ‘heavens beyond the heavens’?”

“Iparhan of the Hezhuo clan,” the Empress Dowager said calmly. “The Emperor personally gave her a Han name: Chenbi.”

Long smoke cleared away, bright moon stretching for a thousand miles, floating light leaping like gold, still shadow sunken like jade; fishermen’s songs answering one another—what joy could surpass this?

“Chenbi…” Wei Yingluo slowly repeated the name.

When a man gives a woman such a name, it must mean she truly brought him immense joy—so much so that he… loved her to the utmost.

Thus she spent a sleepless night. At the first pale light of dawn the next day, Wei Yingluo rose, washed and dressed, and set off with Ming Yu back to the Forbidden City.

Fully expecting to spend a full day first tidying up the long-abandoned Yanxi Palace, she was surprised upon entering to find the windows bright, the tables spotless, and everything neatly arranged.

Even the palace maids and eunuchs were the same ones from before. One by one, they respectfully saluted Wei Yingluo, as though she had never left, never fallen from favor, and was still the radiant Consort Ling of those days at the height of her glory.

“Xiaoquanzi, you handled this assignment very well this time.” Ming Yu gave him a pat on the back from behind. “I told you to come back early and make preparations, and you got everything ready so quickly!”

Xiaoquanzi smiled obsequiously. “This humble servant dares not take credit. By the time we returned to Yanxi Palace, they had already prepared everything!”

Wei Yingluo listened and frowned in silence, but Ming Yu could hardly hide her delight. She grabbed her arm and said, “Yingluo, the Emperor really does still care about you. Before you even returned, everything was already arranged perfectly…”

Before she could finish, a clear, cold voice came from outside: “Your Ladyship Consort Ling, are you satisfied with the arrangements in Yanxi Palace?”

Everyone turned toward the sound. Standing at the doorway was a strikingly beautiful eunuch—more beautiful than many of the consorts—with eyes that passed over the crowd to rest on Wei Yingluo. He gave her a slight smile. “This servant greets Your Ladyship Consort Ling.”

It was Yuan Chunwang.

Wei Yingluo returned a smile, equally clear and cold. “Chief Steward Yuan, it has been a long time.”

Yuan Chunwang lowered his head slightly, concealing the complicated look in his eyes, and said respectfully, “The Empress has been waiting for some time. Please, Your Ladyship Consort Ling, come with me.”

In the cool pavilion of the Imperial Garden, old enemies met once again.

Wei Yingluo glanced at the stone table: hibiscus pastries, rose cakes, grape wine, and fresh seasonal fruits—all things she loved. How would the Empress know? She looked at Yuan Chunwang standing behind her. With this man here, of course the Empress knew her tastes like the back of her hand.

The Empress smiled. “The moment I heard you were returning to the palace, I immediately sent people to prepare everything. I only hope you like it. If there is anything else you need, just give the order to Chief Steward Yuan.”

Wei Yingluo looked at the Empress with a strange gaze.

She had originally thought that after she left, Yanxi Palace would stand empty and soon fall into ruin. Yet upon her return, there was not a speck of dust inside the rooms, not a single weed in the courtyard—it was clear someone had been specially maintaining it. But why?

“What’s wrong?” the Empress asked with a smile. “Are you dissatisfied with my arrangements?”

Wei Yingluo shook her head and said, “No. I was just thinking: as the mistress of the Six Palaces, you gave birth to the Twelfth Prince in the seventeenth year of Qianlong’s reign, and this year you added the Thirteenth Prince. The entire rear palace is under your control. What kind of woman could it be that, within just three months of entering the palace, made even you, Her Ladyship Empress, unable to sit still?”

The Empress was momentarily stunned, then laughed softly. She lifted a cup of grape wine, took a sip, and said meaningfully, “If you met her, you would feel the same wariness I do. No—not wariness. Fear.”

These words surprised Wei Yingluo slightly. The Empress was the most terrifying hunter she had ever encountered. What kind of opponent could make even her feel fear? Unable to hold back, Wei Yingluo asked, “Is there really such a beauty in the world—more so than the late Noble Consort Hui?”

Noble Consort Hui had been renowned as a kingdom-toppling beauty, called the “Peony of National Grace.” Whether before or after her death, Wei Yingluo had never seen anyone whose appearance could compare. Yet the Empress merely gave a light laugh, as if she didn’t take her seriously at all. “True beauty does not lie in outward appearance. The Emperor has seen countless beauties—how could he be captivated by a mere face? In my view, ten Noble Consort Huis could not compare to one Lady Rong.”

Wei Yingluo frowned slightly. “Your Ladyship Empress, even if Lady Rong is an unparalleled beauty and deeply favored by the Emperor, she still cannot threaten your position. I still don’t understand—what reason could there be for you to humble yourself and show goodwill toward me?”

Yuan Chunwang, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke. “Your Ladyship Consort Ling, Lady Rong has now been promoted to Concubine Rong.”

Yingluo froze.

The Empress rose to her feet. Outside the pavilion, flowers bloomed in profusion—clusters and swathes of them—like the beauties filling the rear palace. Especially striking was a wisteria vine, its blossoms blooming all at once in chaotic profusion, thousands of flowers opening together. The Empress reached up, plucked a single wisteria blossom, twirled it between her fingers, and said slowly and deliberately:

“She is the daughter of the Taiji of the Dzungar tribe, Hezha Mai. Her elder brother Tuerdu distinguished himself greatly in quelling the rebellion. To show lasting friendship and alliance, they specially sent his younger sister Iparhan into the palace. The Emperor personally bestowed upon her the name Chenbi—Deep Jade—and favors her profoundly, far more than he ever favored you back then!”

She suddenly turned around, extended the wisteria blossom toward Wei Yingluo, and said gravely:

“That is why—we must join forces against a common enemy!”

Wei Yingluo looked at the flower she was offering, and after a long pause, she shook her head. “Your Ladyship Empress, I have already experienced your good intentions.’ This time, let us skip the cooperation.”

Cooperating with the Empress was no different from bargaining with a tiger for its skin. Even if Wei Yingluo wanted to contend with Chenbi, she would not do so through the Empress’s hand. None of the fruit on the table had been touched. Wei Yingluo gave her farewells and had just turned to leave when she heard the Empress call out loudly from behind her:

“When she entered the palace, she was already twenty-seven years old!”

Wei Yingluo’s footsteps halted.

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