Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 178: Suspicion

   Li Yu cautiously observed Hongli’s expression.

After learning that Wei Yingluo had disappeared, Hongli had been restless and uneasy. Then word came from the palace staff at Baoyue Tower that they had seen Wei Yingluo enter Changchun Palace, and Hongli had rushed over without a moment’s delay.

Who could have expected he would witness that scene…

A consort and an outer-court official secretly meeting in the inner palace—Hongli not immediately stepping forward to confront them was already the greatest mercy. Otherwise, neither of them would have survived the day.

A young eunuch suddenly entered from outside and reported: “Your Majesty, Her Ladyship Consort Rong requests an audience outside the hall.”

Hongli lifted his eyelids slightly. The almost overflowing rage in his eyes sank back in an instant. He said calmly, “Let her in.”

Chenbi entered with a face full of delight, presenting an embroidered screen to him like a treasure.

Hongli looked down at it. “What is this?”

Chenbi: “I learned embroidery from Yingluo, and then asked the masters at the embroidery workshop for guidance. Only then was I able to complete this standing screen. Your Majesty, take a look—do you like it?”

With just one glance, Hongli recognized its origin. “Broad bean and dragonfly design.”

Chenbi: “I thought for a long time about what to embroider for Your Majesty. Yingluo has a handkerchief with this pattern—I found it interesting, so I copied it exactly.”

Hearing that name again and again, Hongli’s expression gradually shifted. He said with growing impatience, “Is that so?”

Chenbi seemed oblivious. “I really like this pattern. I begged Yingluo for a long time, but she simply wouldn’t give it to me! Oh, right!”

She suddenly clapped her hands and laughed innocently: “Lord Fucha has something similar.”

Hongli’s eyelid twitched. “…When did you see him?”

“Your Majesty didn’t know? On my way to the capital, I nearly fell off a cliff. It was Lord Fucha who saved my life.” Chenbi tilted her head as if recalling the past. “Back then I noticed he wore a sachet at his waist with the exact same pattern embroidered on it… Hehe, who would have thought a man like Lord Fucha would like the same things as women…”

“Enough!” Hongli could no longer suppress his anger. He gave a low shout. “Chenbi, I still have official business. You may return first.”

Once suspicion takes root in a person’s heart, everything that had once been forgotten resurfaces, clear as mountains emerging after the mist clears.

   Wei Yingluo returned to Ming Yu’s room. The palace servants had already cleaned away all the bloodstains inside. They had originally intended to pack up and remove everything Ming Yu had used, to avoid letting any ill omen taint noble lady, but Wei Yingluo had stopped them.

Nowadays, the comb Ming Yu used, the rouge she favored, and the hairpins she ordinarily loved to wear all lay quietly on the dressing table. Wei Yingluo placed her hand on the table and slowly brushed across it inch by inch, until her gaze finally fixed on that unfamiliar set of golden items. She said coldly, “Where did this come from?”

Xiaoquanzi stepped forward: “In reply to Mistress, the day before Ming Yu left the palace, a senior palace maid named Yizhu from Consort Rong’s side came to see Ming Yu. This servant saw that she was holding a carved box in her hands.”

Yingluo: “Was it this one?”

Xiaoquanzi: “Yes.”

Yingluo picked up the golden tweezers and toyed with them.

“…Mistress?” Xiaoquanzi cautiously watched her.

The golden tweezers had already dug deeply into Wei Yingluo’s palm. She gripped them tightly, as if strangling an enemy’s throat, and said coldly, “Where is Consort Rong now?”

After leaving Yangxin Hall, Chenbi went straight back to Baoyue Tower.

Tower beyond tower, mountain beyond mountain—all were shrouded by heavy rain.

Chenbi danced to the rhythm of the raindrops. She danced and sang softly, the tune vaguely resembling a nursery rhyme.

Her dance was very beautiful, yet the gaze with which Yizhu watched her carried a trace of fear.

Because she was clearly performing a duet dance.

It was as though an invisible person stood before her, their hand resting in Chenbi’s palm: when she advanced, “it” retreated; when she retreated, “it” advanced; when she spun, “it” spun with her.

Chenbi smiled in a dazed, dreamlike way, seemingly lost in a beautiful dream that only she could see—until, by accident, she glanced toward the bronze mirror and saw her own reflection: dressed in Manchu flag attire, dancing alone. Her song stopped abruptly, as if someone had jolted awake from a dream. Her eyes remained blank and lost for a long moment before she suddenly threw herself at the mirror, pounding the surface again and again.

“M-Mistress…” Yizhu called out in a trembling voice.

Chenbi seemed not to hear her and continued to hammer the mirror, as though a mortal enemy were hidden inside it.

“Mistress.” Suddenly a palace maid’s voice came from outside the door. “Her Ladyship Consort Ling has come to visit.”

Chenbi roared ferociously: “Shut up!”

The voice outside fell silent.

Very, very slowly, Chenbi turned her head. She giggled eerily: “Dear Yingluo, wait just a moment—I’ll be right there.”

Laughing wildly all the while, she walked toward the door. When she passed Yizhu, the maid instinctively recoiled several steps, staring at her retreating figure as though looking at a demon.

The moment she stepped outside, the innocent, guileless smile of old reappeared on Chenbi’s face. “Yingluo, I was just thinking of coming to find you.”

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and regarded Chenbi with a scrutinizing gaze: “Find me?”

Chenbi nodded and hurried over to stand in front of her: “After I came back, I thought about it for a long time. I bear responsibility for Ming Yu’s death.”

Wei Yingluo: “Oh? What responsibility do you bear?”

Chenbi: “Earlier, Ming Yu once told me that she was ill, but she begged me to keep it secret. I was afraid you would be heartbroken, so I kept delaying and didn’t dare tell you. I never imagined she would become so despairing that she would take her own life!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly laughed.

Chenbi: “Yingluo, what’s wrong?”

Between them stood a table. Wei Yingluo reached out and pushed a box toward her: “Was this something you gave her?”

The box was already open. Inside lay the complete set of golden items—including the very pair of golden scissors that had previously been embedded in Ming Yu’s heart, now cleaned and neatly placed back inside.

Chenbi’s gaze swept over the golden scissors. She sighed: “I saw that all of Ming Yu’s things were old, so I sent her a new set of golden utensils. I never expected…”

“If I hadn’t asked you about it today, were you never going to tell me at all?” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh. “This thing… it was actually you who sent it.”

“…I can’t say!” Chenbi suddenly raised her head to look at her. “It was so hard for me to finally win your trust. If I told you, you would distance yourself from me! But Yingluo, Ming Yu did something foolish, and I kept it from you too—yet our original intention in both cases was to protect you!”

Wei Yingluo shot to her feet: “Speak! What exactly is your purpose in deliberately getting close to me?”

Chenbi: “I want to become your very best friend.”

Wei Yingluo: “Your best friend keeps everything from you?”

Chenbi: “I haven’t!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly pulled the golden scissors from their case and drove them hard into the tabletop, shouting furiously: “Then why did you force Ming Yu to her death?!”

Everyone in the room was startled by her action. The more timid palace maids let out frightened cries. Yet Chenbi remained perfectly calm—even placing her hand gently over the one Wei Yingluo still gripped on the scissors’ handle, smiling at her: “Yingluo, Ming Yu was beyond saving. But you must live well. Prolonged suffering is worse than a swift end. Even if you had kept her here, how long could you have kept her? A day? Two days? A month?”

What kind of “prolonged suffering is worse than a swift end”? Wei Yingluo was furious at her choice of words and snapped: “Whether it concerns Ming Yu or me is none of your business!”

“You might be able to accept her, but the Soulun family could not,” Chenbi said gently. “They would resent her—for knowingly being on the verge of death yet still marrying into the Soulun family and ruining their only son. And then they would all turn their hatred on you, because it was your idea… Yingluo, I didn’t want you to be resented by anyone—especially not by the Ming Yu you loved most. I was helping you. How can you blame me?”

Wei Yingluo stared at her as if looking at a madwoman: “You’re insane…”

Chenbi tilted her head and smiled at her—a smile indescribably eerie.

Another round of startled gasps. Under everyone’s shocked or fearful gazes, Chenbi suddenly pulled the golden scissors out of the table.

Wei Yingluo was greatly alarmed. She had only just taken a step back when she saw Chenbi reach out and offer the golden scissors to her.

The handle was turned toward Wei Yingluo; the sharp points aimed at Chenbi herself.

“Yingluo,” Chenbi’s voice was bewitching and hypnotic, “Ming Yu lived in great pain. For her, death was actually a release. You are human, not a god—you cannot bear everyone’s joys, angers, sorrows, and pleasures. By sending Ming Yu away… you can finally be free.”

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