Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 28: Apology

The night had already grown deep.

In the embroidery workshop, lamp after lamp had been lit.

The lamplight dyed the window paper a warm orange hue. Peering in through the sheets of paper, one could see that though it was clearly time for dinner, every single palace maid was gathered here. Even though their stomachs rumbled with hunger, not one of them had left.

Once again pricking her finger with the needle, Jixiang let out an “Ouch!” and quickly popped the bleeding fingertip into her mouth. She glanced back toward the door and asked indistinctly through her mouthful: “Has Sister Yingluo still not come back?”

Linglong, working on her embroidery without lifting her head, replied: “She probably won’t be coming back at all…”

“What are you saying!” Jixiang snapped angrily. “Pah pah pah—hurry up and spit three times!”

Linglong pursed her lips, too lazy to perform such a crude gesture. Seeing this, Jixiang grew even angrier and was about to give her a proper scolding when the palace maid nearest the door suddenly shouted: “She’s here, she’s here! Someone’s coming from outside!”

Jixiang froze for a moment, then immediately abandoned Linglong and ran toward the door.

A gust of wind rushed past her—someone had dashed out even faster.

“Zhang… Momo Zhang?” Jixiang stared dumbfounded at the figure’s back.

Like an elderly parent whose only son had gone off to take the imperial examinations, Momo Zhang practically stumbled and scrambled out the door, then stood there gazing eagerly at the eunuch outside, hoping to hear some good news from his lips—at the very least, not bad news!

“Congratulations, Momo Zhang.” The newcomer was three palace maids, led by one whose rank was slightly higher than Momo Zhang’s. Yet she now spoke to her with utmost courtesy and a smile on her face. “Wei Yingluo from your embroidery workshop made a great impression at the longevity banquet. These are the items bestowed upon her by Her Majesty the Empress.”

With a wave of her hand, the two maids behind her stepped forward carrying trays.

One tray held two bolts of silk, the other a pair of hairpins.

Items made in the palace workshops were naturally of the finest quality in the world—and these, being bestowed by the Empress herself, were of the absolute highest grade in both craftsmanship and materials.

As for the two jade hairpins, no one could fully judge their quality, but everyone could see that the color was exceptionally pure and even. A faint, hazy aura of mist-like clouds seemed to linger around them—now visible, now not, like fog yet not quite fog. Perhaps they were made from the legendary Lantian jade, the kind described in the saying: “On a warm day in Lantian, the jade gives birth to mist.”

The two bolts of silk, however, were immediately recognizable. Having worked in the embroidery workshop for over half a year, everyone knew good fabric when they saw it. One maid exclaimed in admiration: “This material is truly excellent. When worn on the body, it’s like wearing a garment made of spring water—wearing it regularly not only nourishes the skin, but nourishes the person as well.”

“You don’t understand—this is tribute sent from the Jiangnan Weaving Bureau,” another more knowledgeable palace maid said enviously. “All of it is meant for making clothes for the mistresses. Yingluo really has good fortune…”

Momo Zhang pulled the leading palace maid aside and spoke with her for a while. Then she took some silver from her sleeve and insistently pressed it into the other woman’s hand. The maid refused at first, but after much back-and-forth, she reluctantly accepted it. Only after personally seeing the visitor off did Momo Zhang return, her face beaming with delight. To the group of palace maids who were staring at her eagerly, she announced:

“It’s all right now. You can go back and eat.”

At a time like this, who could possibly have any appetite?

Jixiang was the first to rush over. “Momo, good Momo, please tell us quickly—what did Sister Yingluo do at the birthday banquet?”

“Yes, Momo, please tell us,” Linglong also came closer, speaking calmly. “What exactly did Yingluo do that not only did Her Majesty the Empress not punish her, but even bestowed a reward?”

Momo Zhang was in an excellent mood. Smiling at the two of them, she said, “I’m not entirely clear on the details myself. Why don’t you wait until she comes back—she can tell you everything in her own words.”

Linglong was silent for a moment before asking, “Where is she now?”

“Receiving her reward,” Momo Zhang replied. “Of course she has to go kowtow and express gratitude to Her Majesty the Empress!”

Outside Changchun Palace.

   Ming Yu held a hexagonal palace lantern in her hand. Its warm orange light illuminated the slender figure kneeling on the ground before her, stretching the shadow behind her long and thin under the moonlight.

“Your Highness,” Wei Yingluo pressed her forehead to the back of her hands. “This servant has come to plead guilty.”

“Oh?” Empress Fucha had already removed her heavy ceremonial robes and changed into the simple white clothing she usually wore. She approached gracefully under the moon, like Chang’e returning from the lunar palace—immortal in bearing, her smile gentle and charming. “Not to express gratitude, but to plead guilty?”

“Yes.” Wei Yingluo made no attempt to hide anything and confessed everything openly. “A few days ago, thieves broke into the embroidery workshop and stole the peacock feather threads. With no other choice, this servant used deer-tail velvet threads as a substitute. To get away with it in the main hall, I fabricated an entire explanation.”

“Since you already got away with it, why come and confess to me now?” Empress Fucha asked with a smile.

Wei Yingluo thought to herself: Because I don’t believe it.

Everything had gone too smoothly—almost as if Empress Fucha had deliberately cooperated with her.

Once she realized this, a cold sweat broke out on Wei Yingluo’s back. She no longer dared to harbor any illusions of luck. Without another word, she came straight to Empress Fucha to plead guilty.

“Your Majesty is merciful and compassionate toward your servants. Not only did you refrain from exposing me in public, you even bestowed a gift upon me. My heart is filled with fear and unease. How could someone who committed such a grave mistake as I have the face to accept your reward?” Wei Yingluo kowtowed. “I beg Your Majesty to take back the gift and punish me instead.”

“What has been bestowed cannot be taken back. Do you take me for what kind of person?” Empress Fucha gave a light laugh. “Besides, what’s done is done. Today is my birthday—I do not wish for any unpleasantness to occur. Do you understand?”

Wei Yingluo kowtowed again. “Your Majesty’s benevolence—this servant will remember it in her heart forever.”

“However…” Empress Fucha drew out her tone slightly. “There is one thing that this palace finds extremely strange…”

“Please speak, Your Highness,” Wei Yingluo said quickly. “This servant will tell you everything without reservation.”

“Ming Yu said that while you were waiting outside the hall earlier, you deliberately delayed your entry until the very last moment.” Empress Fucha asked, “What exactly were you waiting for at that time?”

Wei Yingluo’s eyes darted around as she tried to think of an answer, but before she could speak, Empress Fucha had already provided one herself.

“You were waiting for the Emperor,” Empress Fucha said. “Weren’t you?”

Wei Yingluo was greatly startled. Reflexively, she raised her head and met a pair of wise, penetrating eyes.

Anyone who possessed eyes like these could not possibly be an easy mark—how could she ever be deceived so simply!

In the flash of lightning and spark of fire, Wei Yingluo made her decision.

“Yes!” Gritting her teeth, Wei Yingluo laid the entire matter bare. “Your Majesty enjoys profound imperial favor. This servant wished to borrow the Emperor’s momentum at that moment to make Your Majesty happy. That way, when this servant entered the hall to make her report, Your Majesty would not fly into a rage.”

Empress Fucha’s expression suddenly darkened. “What audacity! You even dared to make use of the Emperor himself!”

“Please forgive this servant, Your Majesty!” Wei Yingluo kowtowed repeatedly, assuming the complete look of someone who had resigned herself to placing her life entirely in the other’s hands. “If punishment must be given, please let it fall on this lowly servant alone—do not implicate the innocent people in the embroidery workshop!”

“Of course there must be punishment. Let me think…” Empress Fucha fell silent.

Only when Wei Yingluo’s breathing had grown noticeably heavier did the Empress suddenly let out a soft chuckle. “Then I shall punish you to remake all of my everyday robes—using only deer-tail short velvet this time. Do you remember?”

Wei Yingluo jerked her head up like a condemned prisoner who had just been granted a pardon. She stared blankly for a long moment before wild joy flooded her face. With a resounding thud, she smashed her forehead against the floor. “Yes! This servant thanks Your Majesty!”

“Very well. It’s getting late—go back now.” Empress Fucha looked at her gently. “From now on, once you finish embroidering my everyday robes, deliver them to Changchun Palace in person. And also…”

She turned to Ming Yu beside her. “Theft has appeared in the palace for no apparent reason. Chief Steward Wu bears unavoidable responsibility—tell him to investigate this matter thoroughly!”

Ming Yu quickly assented.

“That’s enough. I am tired now.” Empress Fucha nodded. “See her out.”

A six-sided palace lantern led the way ahead, illuminating the path out of Changchun Palace.

“Sister Ming Yu, this is far enough.” Wei Yingluo did not dare truly let Ming Yu accompany her the whole way. From Changchun Palace to the embroidery workshop and back—even walking quickly—would take nearly half an hour. “I can manage the rest of the road myself.”

Ming Yu had no desire to waste time on a mere little palace maid either. “Fine then. I’ll head back.”

With that, she immediately turned and walked back toward Changchun Palace.

Wei Yingluo watched her go from behind. More accurately, she was not so much watching Ming Yu as she was gazing fixedly at Changchun Palace in the distance.

The night was already deep, yet Changchun Palace blazed as bright as day. What illuminated it—the palace maids hanging lantern after lantern along the walls, the legendary night-shining pearls offered as tribute, or perhaps that human-height coral tree from today’s birthday banquet?

That was Empress Fucha’s residence—the dwelling place of the most honored woman in the rear palace.

In the past, she could only look at it from afar. But starting today, it no longer felt quite so unreachable.

“Lord Fucha Fuheng…” Wei Yingluo murmured in a voice only she could hear. “Wait for me. I’m coming to find you…”

Far away, Changchun Palace shone brilliantly. Around Wei Yingluo, however, everything was pitch black.

The darkness swallowed her figure, swallowed her expression, turning her into a mere black silhouette—so utterly out of place against the distant, blazing splendor of Changchun Palace.

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