Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 96: Walking in the Snow

After the wedding was completed, Fuheng brought Erqing into the palace to pay respects to the Emperor. That day the flying snow was endless; both of them were wrapped in thick fox-fur cloaks, yet they still could not completely block out the bone-chilling cold outside. When the wind blew, it felt as though their very bones were freezing.

As they reached the outside of Qianqing Palace, they suddenly saw a solitary, frail figure kneeling on snow as thick as cotton wadding.

“This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!” The person rose, took three steps forward, then knelt again. “This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!”

Three steps and one kowtow—her forehead smashed a depression into the snow. Behind her stretched a long line of such depressions, gradually being filled in again by the wind and snow.

“Yingluo…” Fuheng’s eyes widened in shock. “This—this is… what’s happening?”

Li Yu replied:

“His Majesty said that Wei Yingluo is to start from Qianqing Palace and walk through all the Eastern and Western Six Palaces. Three steps and one kowtow. If she completes twelve full hours like this, he will forgive her offense and allow her to return to Changchun Palace to serve.”

Fuheng stared at Wei Yingluo, his expression shifting between dark and light, uncertain. Even after they entered Yangxin Hall to pay respects to the Emperor, his face remained the same.

By chance, Hongli’s expression was just as unsettled. When the two of them stood together, the temperature inside the room felt no different from outside—piercing, bone-chilling cold that made everyone else shiver.

“Enough.” Today Hongli seemed to have little interest in idle chat. After only a few words, he dismissed the newlyweds:

“Go to the Empress now. Let her meet her new sister-in-law as well.”

“…Yes.”

After the couple withdrew, Hongli picked up a memorial and began flipping through it. A gust of cold wind blew in through the window. He pressed his right fist to his lips and coughed lightly several times.

Li Yu hurried over to close the window. From behind him came Hongli’s voice, sudden and low:

“Is she still kowtowing?”

The hand closing the window paused. Looking out at the increasingly heavy snowfall and the figure growing smaller and smaller in the snow, Li Yu answered:

“Yes.”

Hongli: “How many hours has she been at it?”

“Already three hours.” As he spoke, Li Yu carefully observed the Emperor’s expression. Seeing his face grow darker and darker, he ventured to read the imperial mood:

“Your Majesty, Wei Yingluo is, after all, a woman. On such a heavy snow day, forcing her to do three steps and one kowtow for a full twelve hours… I fear she will freeze solid!”

“I gave her a choice.” Hongli suddenly slammed the memorial down on the table. “She was the one who refused to appreciate my favor!”

Fuheng was stunned. “Your Majesty…”

Hongli turned to look out the window, remembering the two choices he had given her earlier.

“First: personally admit to Fuheng, with your own mouth, that you have never liked him—that everything was because of your greed for vanity, that you deceived him!”

“Second: starting from Qianqing Palace, three steps and one kowtow, confessing your wrongs with every bow, until you have completed twelve full hours.”

“Complete either one, and I will allow you to return to Changchun Palace!”

And how had she answered?

   It couldn’t have been clearer.

   Outside, the sound of the snow howled in, accompanied by those distant-yet-near cries:

“This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!”

The snow grew heavier and heavier, like white ink splashed from left to right, covering Wei Yingluo’s hair, her eyelashes, her shoulders—turning her into a snowman. She staggered forward through the blizzard, her body cold, her heart even colder.

Suddenly a black oil-paper umbrella tilted over from the side, shielding her head.

Wei Yingluo slowly turned to look. She saw Yuan Chunwang standing there holding the umbrella. Snowflakes fell one by one onto the umbrella, gradually covering its surface completely in white. His expression was unreadable as he asked:

“Are you sad?”

“Sad.” Wei Yingluo coughed twice, then gave a tearful smile. “But from now on, I won’t be sad anymore. From this day forward, between him and me, all affection is severed, all bonds are broken. When we meet again, we will be strangers!”

“That’s good.” Yuan Chunwang smiled. “Come. I’ll walk the rest of the way with you.”

This path was the one Wei Yingluo had chosen for herself—she could only walk it to the end, even if she had to crawl the rest of the way on her knees.

Yuan Chunwang could not carry her, nor could he support her. All he could do was hold that oil-paper umbrella steady, quietly accompanying her at her side, walking the road with her in silence.

Along the way, the umbrella was tilted entirely over her head.

The wind and snow grew heavier. Half of Yuan Chunwang’s body remained exposed outside the umbrella, and soon snow pellets had soaked him through. Yet he paid it no mind. After some unknowable stretch of time, he suddenly said, “We’ve arrived.”

Yangxin Hall was not far ahead. Wei Yingluo, her lips purple and trembling, struggled to rise from the ground: “You go now. Don’t let anyone see that… Cough… it was you who helped me. Otherwise… cough… you would get into trouble.”

Yuan Chunwang let out a soft sigh. Like a shadow, he retreated behind her, his figure melting away behind the wall.

Only then did Wei Yingluo force her body forward. Her knees had long since lost all feeling. Every step was excruciatingly difficult; what flowed through her veins felt not like warm blood, but icy slush.

“Her Majesty the Empress…” She silently repeated the words in her heart several times. Relying on sheer grit and stubborn obsession, she finally staggered to the entrance of Yangxin Hall. A hand, frozen purple, reached out toward the door. Before it could touch the panel, her vision darkened. Just before she fainted, she vaguely saw a tall figure rushing toward her.

Who was it?

Wei Yingluo tried desperately to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt weighted with lead and refused to lift.

She could only feel a pair of hands—hard, unmistakably a man’s—tightly wrapping around her and holding her close.

At the same moment, inside Changchun Palace.

A hand reached out from the veranda, catching a single snowflake in the palm.

The same snowfall that brought Wei Yingluo cold and despair brought Erqing… nothing but contentment on her face.

“Erqing.” Ming Yu’s voice came from behind her. “Are you happy?”

Erqing did not turn her head. “Why do you ask?”

“You and I entered the palace together to serve Her Majesty the Empress. We ate together, slept together. Many of the tasks Her Majesty assigned, we often did side by side.” Ming Yu spoke haltingly.

“Ming Yu.” Erqing laughed softly, finally turning around. The jewels in her hair sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I just feel… I feel…” Ming Yu looked at her with a complicated expression. “It’s only been a few days, yet you seem like an entirely different person. I can’t find any trace of the old you anymore…”

The former Erqing had been cautious and prudent. She never spoke a single improper word, never took a single improper action—worldly wisdom ran deep in her bones.

A palace maid so flawless in conduct naturally won the favor of her masters.

Even the mistresses of other palaces, when mentioning Erqing, would praise her without end, calling her the most capable and trusted person by the Empress’s side.

Having grown accustomed to that version of Erqing, it was difficult to adjust to the one standing before her now.

Dressed in robes with extremely elaborate patterns, adorned with jewelry that was clearly priceless, and wearing an unmasked look of willful, delighted freedom in her eyes and brows.

It was as though she were deliberately showing off her success to everyone else.

“My status has changed, so naturally I am no longer the same as before.” Erqing smiled and took Ming Yu’s hand. “But no matter what, I will never forget the friendship we once shared. From now on, since I will no longer be by Her Majesty’s side, you must take my place and serve Her Majesty well.”

Ming Yu hesitated for a long while, words rising and falling back, until at last she could hold back no longer: “Erqing… is this really alright?”

The relationship between Wei Yingluo and Fuheng could be hidden from outsiders, but not from those inside Changchun Palace.

Knowing full well that Fuheng’s heart belonged to Wei Yingluo, and yet still eagerly marrying him anyway—such an act of openly seizing someone else’s love… was it really alright?

Erqing smiled coyishly, avoiding the question entirely and instead steering the conversation elsewhere.

“Just as you said,” she replied. “My grandfather was the Minister of Justice, and now our entire family has been raised into the banner nobility. We are a true household of officials, a prominent and illustrious family. Marrying Fuheng is a perfect match of status and a match made in heaven—what could possibly be wrong with that?”

You know full well that’s not what I was asking… Ming Yu looked at her with a complicated expression.

   “Besides…” Erqing’s gaze shifted, turning toward the outside of the flower pavilion. Snow weighed heavily on the branches, bending them low. Clumps of white snow fell to the ground. Two young palace maids were sweeping the snow with brooms, their faces contorted from the cold, noses and cheeks red.

It seemed as though she saw her own former self in those two girls. Erqing stared blankly for a long moment before continuing: “I endured six years of being a lowly servant. At last the bitterness has ended and sweetness has come. Aren’t you happy for me?”

“A lowly servant?” Ming Yu tilted her head. “Her Majesty has always been very good to us.”

“No matter how good things are in Changchun Palace, in the end we are still slaves—we must bow and scrape.” Erqing let out a soft laugh. “You should start planning for your own future soon too.”

Ming Yu’s gaze toward her grew increasingly unfamiliar. She slowly withdrew her hand and said, “No. I’m not going anywhere. I will stay and serve Her Majesty the Empress!”

“Everyone has their own aspirations. If you’re unwilling, I won’t force you.” Erqing drew her white fox-fur cloak tighter around her shoulders and once again turned her eyes toward the scene outside the pavilion—the green pines beyond, and the two snow-sweeping palace maids, which had now become the scenery in her eyes. “In the past, when I was in the palace, I dreaded snow the most. I feared the heavy snow would break the flower branches and make Her Majesty sad. I also feared running into some master from another palace—forced to kneel on the spot in bone-chilling cold. Now, at last, I can properly enjoy the snow.”

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME