Xie Wuyan gave a soft cough.
He seemed to have some difficulty catching his breath, worrying Jiang Kui who poured him a cup of hot tea.
She rose to sit at the edge of his bed, turning to face him. Leaning back against a pillar he cradled the tea, head lowered as he slowly drank it all. Then he shut his eyes for a spell.
When he lifted them again that serious stare awaited.
…So he closed his eyes once more.
“Xie Wuyan,” she called him. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
“Tired,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Can’t open them.”
Weariness suffused his voice and she softened a little, acquiescing, “Alright, you may keep them closed.”
Just as he began to relax she commanded again, “Call me martial sister.”
Hesitantly he asked blankly, “…Why would I call you martial sister?”
“Don’t ask. Just do it,” she said severely.
…He was somewhat tempted to cough again.
After a lengthy silence he heaved a sigh and opened his eyes.
In the tranquil palace chambers the girl before him leaned close. As she watched him intently strands of her long hair tumbled beside his hand. Her pupils were clear and penetrating, reflecting his visage and the dazzling dawn light.
“Martial sister,” he murmured.
His voice was lucid and crisp like jade or pristine porcelain.
Not at all resembling that other person’s.
Yet pleasing to the ear.
She tilted her head gazing at him for a time before saying, “Call me Jiang Xiaoman.”
Bewildered, he asked again, “Why would I…”
She cut him off. “Go on.”
He shut his eyes briefly with a mild look at her. “Jiang Xiaoman.”
Wholly different.
But also nice to hear.
“Alright,” she conceded with a shake of her head. “Go back to sleep.”
After a pause she added, “In the future just ‘wife’ will do.”
“As you wish,” came his soft reply.
In the glittering dawn he sat by watching her lower brush to paper amidst the scratching sounds. Shutting his eyes he drowned in the scratching into a peaceful, dreamy state.
“Something urgent came up I must attend to. I’ll be right back.” She neatly sorted the documents on her desk after reading a newly delivered letter then exited with an armful, through the palace doors.
Before leaving she paused and turned back gravely saying, “Forget about our earlier conversation.”
“…Of course,” he nodded obediently.
Leaning back on his bed he watched her retreating figure, idly fiddling with the empty teacup in hand.
“Jiang Xiaoman…” Shutting his eyes he gave an inaudible laugh. “You’re too sly.”
Rising slowly he made his way to the doorway, back leaning as he gazed up at the whirling petals falling outside. Rays of light splashed freely from the horizon, their brilliance spilling all over him and illuminating his slender side profile in a dim golden hue.
“Your Highness,” Luo Shiyi approached from behind. “An urgent missive from Prince Wen.”
Xie Wuyan accepted and read through it, expression shifting subtly.
He murmured lowly to Luo Shiyi, “Has anything come up while you kept watch over Lord Yu?”
“I dared not get too close,” Luo Shiyi answered. “After court today he paid a visit to Ye Ting Palace then spent the rest of the day in the administrative ward…meeting with several ministers, many from the Censorate it seems.”
Xie Wuyan questioned closely in detail, features gradually growing taut.
Turning he strode swiftly back inside. “Summon Vice Minister Gu, I’m heading to the palace now.”
After Luo Shiyi withdrew with a bow, Vice Minister Gu soon arrived.
He entered followed by some palace servants pushing in a lacquered clothes rack.
Stacked neatly atop it were under and outer robes of gauze and crimson satin, jade pendants and sashes of vermillion silk…adornments piled high demanding extensive time and assistance from multiple people to put on.
Xie Wuyan quietly kept his gaze lowered amidst the flurried figures moving around him.
Someone helped dress him in snowy undergarments. Someone draped his shoulders with the crimson outer robe. Someone fastened jade insignias at his waist… Bit by bit he transformed back into that esteemed crown prince, buried under heavy luxurious fabrics as if seated aloft frigid clouds.
The very instant the bejeweled crown settled onto his head he finally grew somewhat feeble. Bracing himself against the clothes rack he panted softly.
Abruptly someone reached out supporting him, voice gentle by his ear. “Let me.”
He looked up in mild surprise to see the young girl steadily bearing part of his weight.
“All of you may leave, I’ll take over from here,” she ordered with a glance to dismiss the servants.
The shuffling figures swiftly departed leaving a profound silence in their wake.
Jiang Kui guided Xie Wuyan to a vanity table and carefully divested the crown from his head before seating herself behind him. “I know you still intend to head to the palace. I won’t stop you.”
She said slowly, “I just received news about the predicament at the general’s estate. You mean to plead with your father the emperor.”
“Yet my aunt once said not to interfere in this matter. Now I understand she likely worried that doing so would provoke His Majesty, not only fruitlessly but counterproductive… However you still wish to give it a try.”
A soft sigh escaped her. “And you’ve only just recovered, running about the palace again late at night must be terrible for your health.”
“Yet—” She lifted a finger sealing his lips before he could speak, gently asserting, “Xie Wuyan, I’m not blocking you.”
Raising her eyes level with his she pronounced clearly. “I’ll come along.”
Rendered speechless he simply gazed at her wordlessly for a long stretch. From behind she adjusted his coiffure murmuring, “Let me do your hair.”
“I didn’t know you could dress hair,” he uttered softly.
“I’m not very skilled at it actually. Yours will likely end up a mess” She gave her head a little shake. “But you clearly can’t even stand right now. Wouldn’t want anyone else seeing you in this state would you?”
“Much obliged,” his voice remained light.
“No need for thanks.” She echoed his tone. “Rather it is I who should be thanking you…even though you acted to compete with the North Bureau your intentions were still to save my family in the end.”
He didn’t respond, simply shutting his eyes. Her fingers moved through his hair, clumsily binding the strands into place with a forked ornament before solemnly settling that cumbersome crown atop his head once more.
In the polished bronze mirror he watched her tilt his chin up, relieving the crown’s weight upon him. Though unable to feel her touch he knew innately that her palms against his skin emanated gentle warmth.
A warmth breaking through the soundless void shrouding him.
That day after the lingering dusk had faded, the Eastern Palace was left illuminated by scattered points of light.
At twilight the crown prince and princess embarked together by carriage towards Taiji Palace, seeking hopeless clemency from the emperor.
Even clemency hopeless and unforthcoming still had to be sought after.
Because without asking it would remain undoubtedly hopeless.
Whereas if asked there was still a chance…at the very least they stayed true to themselves.
The daily records documented the crown prince kneeling outside Taiji Palace for an entire night without admittance to see His Majesty.
Within Penglai Hall lamps burned on ceaselessly through the night.
The court lady Ji Ying carried an oil lantern passing along winding covered walkways to gently push open the painted wooden doors, making her way deep inside towards the sea of lights.
Concubine Tang leaned against an exquisite chaise longue, slender fingers stained in carmine rouge lightly massaging her temple sunk in pensive silence for some time. Extraordinarily glamorous her visage seemed a faded and mottled antique painting, one depicting the marked passage of time upon a great beauty gazing into the distance by the waters.
“My lady,” Ji Ying spoke softly. “Moments ago a informant came to pass along news. Dozens of censors jointly submitted an impeachment against the Grand General during the night, handed over to His Majesty’s desk as we speak.”
Concubine Tang gave a light shake of her head. “So this day has finally arrived.”
“At dusk the general’s manor was surrounded denying entry or exit to all. Prince Wen urgently sought audience three times only to be obstructed each time,” murmured Ji Ying.
“That silly boy…” Concubine Tang lifted her head. “Didn’t I get Little Man to pass on orders not to meddle?”
“The crown princess accompanied His Highness together, my lady,” Ji Ying responded deferentially.
“How can they both be so foolish?” sighed Concubine Tang. “That’s his father. Surely he understands nobody can interfere when the emperor makes his decisions?”
“My lady…what now?”
“We wait,” said Concubine Tang, fingers still pressed to her temple. “After so many days of maneuvering coupled with support from the crown prince’s party, there remains a slim chance.” She paused before asking in a hushed voice, “Any updates from Princess Chang?”
Ji Ying also lowered her voice. “We’ve sent three missives so far. There are murmurs of movement within Princess Chang’s estate. Should another message be sent?”
“Wait first,” Concubine Tang shook her head. “She’s hesitating still.”
Mulling carefully for a spell she instructed slowly, “Deliver the letter I had pressed in that wooden box. It was penned by Ah Lian whom Princess Chang had ties with long ago… Hopefully it sways her resolution.”
Ji Ying departed as bid. Alone amidst the flickering blaze Concubine Tang leaned gracefully against the chaise. The brilliant candle flames made the bejeweled ornaments adorning her hair glitter as her features seemed hewn from unblemished white jade.
Lifting her eyes towards the brightly dancing enamel lamp overhead she gave a wan smile followed by another muted sigh.
Not until the lamps had all dimmed within the great hall did court lady Ji Ying finally reappear hastily making her way over to Concubine Tang by the chaise.
“My lady… Princess Chang has replied.”
Concubine Tang took the letter, quickly unfolding it only to find a single character composed with skillful calligraphy and bold brushwork – undoubtedly Princess Chang’s own hand.
It simply read: “No.”
Flipping it over revealed a hastily sketched ink painting of misty mountains and lakes. Amidst the vista stood an old monastery where a monk gathered herbs.
“My lady…” Ji Ying hesitantly ventured. “What does Princess Chang mean?”
Concubine Tang sighed once more with a slow head shake. “She says she’s gotten old.”
Then she whispered mournfully, “Furthermore she’s learned of my past pregnancy… Hence she dares not trust me any longer.”
“But you clearly took aborticides long ago, my lady. That’s already water under the bridge…”
“Yet she found out about it,” refuted Concubine Tang, still shaking her head. “I hid the matter to avoid provoking His Majesty’s suspicion towards the general’s household… Little did I expect Princess Chang to discover this herself. Because of that child who might have been born she dare not trust I would fully support her now…”
A wan smile flitted across her face. “Back then, I merely hesitated an instant.”
“My lady,” another court lady prostrated herself outside requesting gently, “News from Taiji Palace.”
“Speak up now you’ve entered,” Concubine Tang breathed softly without opening her eyes. “What news?”
The court lady glided inside, kneeling to touch her forehead thrice to the floor.
“…Sedition and treason, plotting rebellion and chaos – the entirety of the general’s estate shall be executed for such crimes.”
When Xie Wuyan received this news he was immersed in curling steam suffused with medicinal scents.
“How long was I asleep?” he asked mutedly.
“Most of the day. It’s already after dusk, the hour of Hai,” answered Luo Shiyi from beyond the dividing screen.
“Still enough time to make it,” said Xie Wuyan.
Coughing he forced himself up from the flowing waters that spilled over him and grabbed the drying crimson robes from before the brazier.
Hurriedly Luo Shiyi moved to support him. He staggered a step and heavily collapsed, leaning back against the wall panting as he haphazardly draped the luxurious satins over himself. Motionlessly he watched the beads of water roll down his body.
“She…”
“Went to Penglai Hall,” Luo Shiyi supplied. “She left a message saying you’re to remain at rest while she confers with the Noble Consort to see if there’s still room for maneuver.”
Only once he saw Xie Wuyan cease struggling to rise did he retreat behind the bamboo screen. Collecting the tray of celadon wares he carefully poured steaming tea by Xie Wuyan’s side yet was declined.
In the misty vapors Xie Wuyan sat wordlessly, his entire being drenched and eyes glazed over for a long spell. The crimson robes slid down unheard over black lacquered flooring. Amidst the pile of rich fabrics he settled down silently.
“Eleven…” His voice was faint. “I’m exhausted.”
“Your Highness…”
“One year left. Just one more year,” he whispered shutting his eyes. “What must I do to shield everyone?”
“That illness I had in my fourth spring… The North Bureau seized the opportunity to move against me. Chancellor Ru was demoted, my tutor demoted… So many others dismissed or exiled…”
“Yet this time I merely slept a day,” he uttered desolately. “If yesterday I hadn’t indulged in rest, gone earlier to the Censorate before the others… If last night I had persisted until granted audience with Father…”
“Your Highness…” At a loss Luo Shiyi faltered, uncertain of what else to say.
Abruptly approaching footsteps could be heard from outside.
A graceful silhouette paused before the ebony doors, slim snowy fingers rapping lightly against the wood. The young girl’s gentle voice called out, “Xie Wuyan, are you awake?”
As Luo Shiyi withdrew to the side chamber Xie Wuyan swiftly stood.
In the coiling steam he moved step by step, as if struggling until finally stilling behind the doors.
Standing there he started to push them open as the image of the girl he wished to see emerged in his mind.
Yet all of a sudden he discovered himself unable to proceed.
Silently he lowered his head with a wry smile, drawing back his hand and slowly turning until his back rested against the doors. Head craning up he shut his eyes.
“Are you there?” came her soft query.
“Mm,” his muted affirmation.
Rustling sounds followed as the female figure also leaned back against her side of the door.
Neither made a move to open it.
With bent head she leaned back, hands neatly folded behind peering intently at the wood grains.
Separated by a door they relied on the solid steady presence of the other, content to listen to each other’s breathing.
In this profound silence starlight seemed to blanket the floor in layers of gauze.
Trickles of shimmering dust slipped through the slight gaps between frames, scattering from above her hair onto his shoulders. On the nearby floorboards their wan reflections swayed desolately.
“Xie Wuyan,” she called him again.
“Mm,” was all he offered.
“I don’t blame you,” she asserted clearly. “I know you’re blaming yourself but none of this is your fault, you did all you could.”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t apologize,” she demurred gently.
They lapsed into silence as she contemplated matters for a spell before straightening up. Gathering the hems of her skirt she prepared to take her leave for there were still many duties requiring her attention – letters to respond to, documents to review.
With a faint creak the doors swung open.
Halting in surprise she turned to find him standing within dressed in unadorned white robes, hair still dripping and skin saturated in lingering moisture.
Wind carried flowers piling atop his shoulders, his elegant visage ethereal and aloof amidst the starry expanse – as if belonging to a wholly different realm than the one they currently occupied.
Myriad points of light scintillated around them as he abruptly pulled her into his embrace.
The great billowing sleeves crumpled at their feet, shimmering ripples spreading through the air like liquid quicksilver.
“Xie… Wuyan?”
“I’m here.”
Author’s random ramblings:
Xiaoman: Call me martial sister.
Xie: ?
Xiaoman: Call me Jiang Xiaoman.
Xie: ??
Xie: (while suffering on the inside) Jiang Xiaoman… You’re too sly.
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