Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 90: Parting

Creak—

The cell door opened. A eunuch walked in from outside and, with a few quick motions, removed the chains from Wei Yingluo’s body: “You may go.”

“What?” Momo Liu, locked in the cell opposite, shouted. She grabbed the iron bars and shook them frantically: “How can she be released? What about me?”

Wei Yingluo rotated her sore, reddened wrists, said nothing, and walked out the door.

She asked no questions. If the other party did not wish her to know the reason, asking would be useless. If they did wish her to know, she would find out soon enough.

And indeed, that was exactly what happened.

When Wei Yingluo returned to the Permanent Alley, she found someone already waiting for her there.

“Fucha Fuheng.” Wei Yingluo stopped walking and looked at him. “What have you done?”

The Emperor would not release someone without cause. For her to be freed, someone must have paid a sufficient price.

“Yingluo.” Fuheng spoke in an extremely soft voice. “I am going to marry Erqing.”

The sun had not yet set; the slanting sunset rays fell across Wei Yingluo’s shoulders. Yet she felt ice-cold all over—as though what had landed on her was not sunset light, but red snow, heavy and crushing, sinking into her bones with marrow-chilling cold.

“Is that so…” She suddenly turned away and murmured as if in a dream, “You are going to marry Erqing.”

“Yingluo!” Fuheng took a step forward and reached for her hand, but she shook him off forcefully.

A flash of pain crossed Fuheng’s eyes. He hesitated for a long moment, then clenched his teeth, drew a scented sachet from his bosom, and said: “I came to return this to you.”

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and looked at the sachet without any expression.

A token of love, given on Qixi Festival—the day they became betrothed.

   “You don’t want it anymore?” Wei Yingluo gave a bitter, tragic laugh. “Then throw it away!”

With a flick of her hand, she knocked the sachet out of his grasp. Right beside them was an open drain; the sachet fell into the foul water. A few bubbles rose to the surface as it slowly sank to the bottom.

“All those sweet words you once said to me—I heard them so often that I carelessly believed every one.” As the sachet reached the bottom, so did Wei Yingluo’s heart. “So when His Majesty questioned me, I offered no explanation—because it was the truth. Even if severely punished, I was willing to bear it. I thought… you would feel the same as I did…”

“Yingluo…” The pain on Fuheng’s face deepened. He stepped forward again, as though wanting to take hold of her once more.

“Are you going to say you had no choice?” Yet Wei Yingluo began stepping backward, shaking her head. “There are a thousand and ten thousand excuses, but the outcome is only one—you are going to marry Erqing. Isn’t that right?”

People are always duplicitous—saying one thing while feeling another.

Her mouth spoke calm, composed words, but inside her heart was weeping bitterly, silently pleading: Explain—please explain it to me. No matter what difficulties you face, I can understand…

But she waited and waited, and all she received in the end was one heavy word from him:

“…Yes.”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly lifted her head—only by holding this posture could she keep the tears from falling in front of him.

“Very well. I understand.” She smiled. “From today onward, do not come looking for me again.”

She turned and walked away, seemingly resolute, yet her departing steps were very, very slow.

So slow it was almost as if she were deliberately waiting—waiting for him to change his mind, waiting for him to chase after her.

But he did not.

Fuheng stood silently behind her, watching her leave until her figure had completely vanished into the distance. Only then did he slowly walk to the edge of the drainage ditch. Without the slightest hesitation, his clean fingers reached into the foul, stinking gutter. From amid the pile of mud and filth, he retrieved a fragrant sachet, then pressed it unhesitatingly against his heart. His expression was one of profound sorrow.

As the sun set in the west, inside the palace maids’ quarters of the Cleansing Division

“Where is Wei Yingluo?” Yuan Chunwang pushed open the door and entered, his gaze sweeping the room.

The palace maids inside froze. Jinxiu hurriedly countered with a question: “Wei Yingluo? Wasn’t she locked up in the Bureau of Careful Punishment? What—has she been released again?”

Yuan Chunwang gave her a calm, unreadable glance, offered no explanation, and simply turned to leave.

From his understanding of her, if she hadn’t returned to the maids’ quarters, there was only one other place she could possibly be.

Yuan Chunwang soon arrived at the warehouse.

The smell of mildew, dust, and darkness rushed toward him. He walked to the deepest corner of the warehouse and spoke to the figure huddled against the wall: “Afraid someone will see you crying?”

Wei Yingluo kept her back to him. “…I’m not crying!”

Yuan Chunwang didn’t expose her lie. He casually lit the copper candlestick on the table. The dim, flickering flame illuminated his fingers, his slender profile, and the redwood food box he carried in his other hand.

He opened the box. The top layer held plum-blossom roasted meat; the second layer, stir-fried wood ear mushrooms; the third, pearl-like grains of tribute rice congee; and the fourth, a plate of snowflake cakes dusted with frosted sugar.

“The Bureau of Careful Punishment is no pleasant place. You were locked up all day and didn’t eat anything, did you?” Yuan Chunwang said lightly, picking up a piece of snowflake cake and offering it to her.

Wei Yingluo turned her face away, refusing to acknowledge him.

“What’s this?” A trace of mockery entered Yuan Chunwang’s voice. “Just because Fucha Fuheng abandoned you, you take it out on me—and on yourself? Wei Yingluo, is this all the spirit you have?”

The four words “Fucha Fuheng” pierced her like a needle. Wei Yingluo jumped to her feet and glared at Yuan Chunwang, her eyes crisscrossed with bloodshot veins like spiderwebs. “What did you say?”

“Don’t like hearing it?” Yuan Chunwang said coldly. “Then I’ll say it anyway. You’ve rejected Fucha Fuheng again and again, all just an act. In truth, you like him so much it’s killing you!”

“Shut up!”

“And what about Fucha Fuheng toward you? He’s a noble young master from a prestigious family—there’s never been anything he couldn’t have. Yet only you always push him away. The more you retreat, the more he pursues you! But so what?” Yuan Chunwang sneered. “In the end, isn’t he still going to marry someone else? All that so-called true love is nothing but a joke!”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo covered her ears. “I won’t listen!”

Yet Yuan Chunwang ruthlessly pulled her hands down, leaned close to her ear, and whispered softly, almost tenderly: “Wei Yingluo, you’ve always been so proud and self-assured. This is the first time you’ve been truly hurt by a man, isn’t it? Does it ache? Does it hurt terribly? Let me tell you—the heavens are simply unfair. No matter how much you two love each other, with your background, you are destined never to marry into the Fucha family openly and honorably. Never.”

“Shut your mouth!” Wei Yingluo wrenched free of his grip and raised her hand high to slap him.

“Are you going to hit me?” Yuan Chunwang didn’t dodge; he simply looked at her quietly. “The one who truly tore you apart is Qianlong. The one who actively gave you up is Fucha Fuheng. And me? I’ve always stood by your side, thinking of you in every way, afraid you’d suffer the slightest harm—and yet you would treat me like this?”

Wei Yingluo stared at him in stunned silence.

“I am your sworn brother, your protector, the person in this world who cares about you most.” Yuan Chunwang gently touched her cheek, his voice extremely soft, even carrying a trace of heartache. “Are you really going to bring that slap down?”

In the end, the slap never fell.

What fell… were only her tears.

“Alright, alright.” Yuan Chunwang pulled her into his arms and comforted her, “Yingluo, don’t cry for someone who abandoned you. It will only make others laugh at you and won’t help anything at all.”

“But…” Wei Yingluo sobbed in his embrace, “It hurts… It really hurts so much…”

“That’s only temporary.” Yuan Chunwang stroked her hair, his tone both soothing and admonishing. “Yingluo, your biggest mistake is having an ice-cold exterior but not an equally cold heart. Someone like you is easy to misunderstand—and easy to hurt yourself with. You really are too foolish… far too foolish…”

Wei Yingluo cried for a long time before finally stopping. The night had grown deep; cicadas sang outside the room, while inside, her stomach let out a loud growl, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

This time Yuan Chunwang didn’t tease her. Instead, he personally picked up the bowl of plain congee and fed her spoonful by spoonful. After a few bites, Wei Yingluo suddenly said, “Brother, you’re really good to me.”

“Only now you realize how good your brother is?” Yuan Chunwang laughed.

Wei Yingluo nodded and said softly, “Brother, I’ve never asked you before… someone like you… how did you end up entering the palace?”

Yuan Chunwang froze. After a long pause, he said lightly, “I forgot. I entered the palace when I was very small. I’ve pretty much forgotten everything from before.”

“Is that so…” Wei Yingluo glanced at him, unsure whether to believe him or not.

After the meal, Wei Yingluo rested her head on his lap and murmured, “I want to sleep for a while.”

“Sleep then.” Yuan Chunwang took off his outer robe and draped it over her. “Big brother is right here.”

Wei Yingluo gave a soft “mmh” and slowly closed her eyes.

While locked up, she hadn’t eaten properly and hadn’t slept well either. Having lived in constant fear and anxiety until today, she could finally close her eyes with peace of mind.

In the darkness, Yuan Chunwang sat leaning against the wall, gently stroking her hair with his right hand until small, even snores began to sound. Only then did he whisper softly,

“Actually, I didn’t forget. I remember everything…”

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