“How could that be…?”
“As for the specifics, I’m actually not too clear about it all,” the Virtuous Consort murmured. “When affections and grudges become too tangled, matters turn obscure. Over a decade has passed – the past is naught but fading dust. Chasing after mirages and dreams brings no benefit.”
“To end one’s own life through the very swordsmanship she cultivated…” The girl at her side clenched her jaw tightly. “Requires an immense depth of resolve.”
“His mother…did not wish for him to be born,” she sighed. “Thus in desperation she took such drastic measures, seeking to perish along with her unborn child.”
The Virtuous Consort lowered her gaze. “For Wuyan, the day marking his birth was nearly a narrow brush with death itself.”
“I see… That explains it.” Jiang Kui uttered softly. “Why he seemed so distraught that night on New Year’s Eve.”
When she had seen him then, he sat alone drinking morosely by the window – clad only in a thin linen shirt, desolate as hoarfrost, as if he had already donned his own shroud.
The Virtuous Consort continued fingering her prayer beads. “I’ve heard that back then, even His Majesty sought every reputed healer in the land in order to save the child. Yet the conclusion remained unchanged – unlikely to survive his coming-of-age.”
Jiang Kui kept her head bowed. “I had thought His Majesty did not favor him overly.”
After a brief pause, she added heavily, “The burdens weighing upon him are close to crushing him completely.”
With a wan smile, the Virtuous Consort remarked, “As the Son of Heaven, the love an emperor may give lies with the realm and people. To retain but a shred of a commoner’s paternal affection is already quite rare. As emperor and subject tied by blood, it is fated they cannot share ordinary father-son bonds.”
“Moreover…” She lowered her voice. “His Majesty’s feelings toward that child are likely rather complicated.”
The Virtuous Consort gave her head a shake. “I am his mother and confide all this to you out of my own selfish motives. I hope that in understanding these matters about him, you would take extra care to watch over that child a bit more. He keeps much buried in his heart, rarely giving voice to any of it.”
With a rueful sigh, she mused, “He must have wished before to never have been born – a child discarded by his mother, forced into this world unwillingly.”
“He told me that he likes…” The girl at her side responded softly. “He truly cherishes this mortal realm.”
She considered briefly before chuckling. “When he doesn’t have to pretend at his Crown Prince persona, he has all sorts of peculiar hobbies and many disreputable acquaintances. Quite the famous figure in the jianghu scene.”
Amused, the Virtuous Consort echoed her laughter. “I was unaware! So whenever he pretended illness, he had sneaked out of the palace. I recall vaguely overhearing him speak of taking some master as his teacher about ten years past. Afterward his health seemed to improve somewhat, and his temperament grew more cheerful.”
Jiang Kui thought back. “We were friends in the jianghu. I met him eight years ago – our master introduced us from behind a screen. Only later did I realize we shared the same master.”
“So you were already acquainted for some time,” the Virtuous Consort smiled. “No wonder he told me before that he had selected his wife himself, that he was quite fond of you.”
The girl at her side lowered her head, confessing softly, “Many people have informed me that he often declares his regard around them. I didn’t believe it at first… At our grand wedding, when I asked him directly, he refused to admit anything.”
Lifting her face, she stated, “I’ll wait until the day he is prepared to tell me personally with his own mouth.”
The Virtuous Consort laughed and stroked her hair affectionately. “Good child, enduring so much for his sake. He is a simple fool – you must continue forgiving him thus.”
Her next sigh was heavy once more. “But in view of all this, his reluctance to confide in you likely stems from the wish to spare you too great a burden… Those closest by his side perpetually shoulder the crushing weight of…”
…his impending death.
The inescapable finality edging ever nearer to their beloved with each dawn.
The Virtuous Consort resumed sliding the cool beads between her fingers. “After so many years, he himself has long reached acceptance. Yet remains difficult for those who care about him to reconcile themselves to.”
She shut her eyes briefly. “To witness the death of a loved one – far more agonizing than facing one’s own demise.”
“I do not fear pain,” the girl at her side stated firmly. “And he will not die.”
The Virtuous Consort grasped her hand with an affectionate smile. “Now I understand why he is so taken with you.”
Rising to her feet, she neatened her robes. “That is enough. You both should return early. His condition tends to worsen during the nights. With snow still falling heavily outside, I worry it may prove too taxing for him.”
After a pause, she cautioned, “When he pretends to be unwell, his state is in fact less precarious. But when he forces himself to seem hale and hearty is often when matters are at their worst. You must remain vigilant during those times.”
Jiang Kui performed the farewell rites. “I understand. You have my thanks for confiding all this, Honored Mother.”
Exiting the hall, she glimpsed Xie Wuyang from afar sitting beneath the trees and waiting for her.
A gust of wind shook the boughs, sending flurries drifting down to mantle his shoulders. Still seated in the wheelchair, lashes lowered and head gently listing to one side, an extinguished brazier lay abandoned on his lap while the thick furred throw had partially slid off into the mounting snow.
She hurried over in concern to gather him close. He slowly awakened in her embrace, giving his eyes a bleary flutter and blinking off a few flecks of snow caught on his lashes. Focusing his gaze upward, he found her features clear and pristine like water.
“My lady…?” His voice, still blurred with drowsiness.
“You dozed off in the snow again,” she chastised with exasperation. “Why must you always do this?”
“My apologies…” He offered softly. “I must have drifted off waiting for your return.”
“Let’s go back to rest,” she declared, wheeling his chair forward through the gentle flurry.
With snow falling unceasingly, she popped open a large umbrella overhead to shelter them both. Silent flakes swiftly piled high atop the stretched canvas before rolling down the sides.
“My lady,” murmured Xie Wuyang. “I’m so very tired…”
His head began nodding, tilting slowly to the side.
With a quiet sigh, she carefully shifted the umbrella handle forward. “Go ahead and lean on me.”
Still half dreaming, half aware, he found a soft place for his head and lightly rested his cheek against her palm. Eyes closed, his next utterance emerged as if sleep-talking…
“My lady, I’m so very fond of you…”
Hearing this, she froze for an instant before glancing down. But he had already drifted into deep slumber. Face nestled comfortably against her hand, an understated smile touched his lips – utterly content and delighted.
She gave a low scoff. “Cheater. Doesn’t count when you’re not even properly conscious,” she reproved under her breath.
“You have to be awake, looking me right in the eyes, and say it sincerely.”
Then she bent down by his ear and confessed softly, “…Because I’m also extremely fond of you too.”
“Except you didn’t hear any of that,” she chuckled to herself. “So I’m cheating a little as well.”
The swirling snow hid the lengthy path ahead under its pure, unbroken white mantle. Up above, flakes continued drifting off rooftops as the world slumbered below. The susurrus went on and on.
In fifteen days’ time, the Snow Feast would arrive.
On the fifteenth day of the new lunar year, befitting the first full moon celebration, should it coincide with snowfall, a lavish banquet would be held throughout the entire palace day and night amidst great fanfare.
The Crown Prince, formally attired, escorted the Princess Consort on an incense offering before Buddha at the Grand Benevolent Monastery. Joining the imperial entourage, they then proceeded beyond the Anfu Gate to ignite the lanterns – fifty thousand globes arranged in towering structures reaching over 65 meters tall. For three full days and nights, refined ladies sprinkled sweet perfumes while their bejeweled silks and diaphanous raiment swirled below the glowing pillars as they danced and sang praises.
With the lighting ceremony concluded, the imperial cortege passed through over twenty kilometers of illuminated thoroughfares on the way to the Han Yuan Hall, where a magnificent banquet with hundreds of ministers would be held. Seated in the secondary throne beside the Emperor, the Crown Prince toasted each civil and military official in turn, ever gracious and eloquent.
As the music commenced marking the feast’s start, he discreetly murmured to the princess at his side, “I’m quite nervous.”
“It’s not your first time drinking that poisoned wine,” Jiang Kui whispered back. “I’m the one who should feel more nervous! You’ll just be briefly unconscious while I have to make a big speech to this entire hall.”
“I give many lengthy addresses before crowds like this daily,” Xie Wuyang responded lightly. “Did you memorize those drafts well?”
The drafts had gone through extensive deliberation and repeated tweaks among the gathered confidants back at Prince Wen’s estate. The planned unfolding of events dictated that after Xie Wuyang inevitably collapsed from the doctored drink, Jiang Kui would then direct the officials to expose Qi King’s faction for this assassination attempt upon the Crown Prince.
“I have it down perfectly,” Jiang Kui assured him under her breath. “But I may still get tongue-tied from anxiety in the moment.”
“There’s nothing to fear.” He pondered briefly. “Give me your hand.”
She blinked bemusedly before extending a hand beneath the table toward him. He shifted his seat sideways to face her and gently cupped her fingers, raising his other hand to lightly trace imaginary characters across her open palm with the pads of his fingers.
His touch was cool yet gentle. She watched his elegant fingertips glide over her skin, ticklish against her palm. Unthinkingly, she gave a small wiggle of her curled fingers.
“What are you up to?” She asked, curious.
“Writing a few things on your palm – it’ll help soothe your nerves later.” He concentrated fully on shaping each invisible word. “This always worked for me in the past.”
Unable to suppress her mirth, she demanded, “What sort of peculiar trick is this supposed to be?”
“See?” He smiled. “You’re no longer so anxious now.”
She gave a soft humph of concession. He studied her quietly for some moments before venturing hesitantly, “After I’ve consumed that wine…my appearance may become rather frightening…”
At her look of worry, he hastened to reassure, “Just don’t be too alarmed.”
“If you’re truly fearful, then perhaps…” Trailing off, he chewed his lower lip, then rallied his courage. “Would taking hold of my hand help?”
“I will. Don’t worry.” She whispered her assent and asked again, “Other than losing consciousness, there won’t be any other ill effects from imbibing that drink?”
“There may be some discomfort initially.” He gave a cursory explanation before reiterating gravely, “But you mustn’t rush to administer the antidote right away. We have to convince everyone present thoroughly that the poison took full effect.”
Pausing briefly, he instructed, “Wait until we’ve returned to the palace before neutralizing it.”
“Master Shen said it should be given to you immediately,” she countered. “That is still lethal venom, after all.”
“There’s no need to take his advice too seriously…” He faltered abruptly, then continued at a rapid clip, “I wouldn’t happen to be familiar with this personage. Yet given he styles himself a wandering physician, surely he has never treated an actual case of poisoning.”
Meeting her eyes resolutely, he stated, “While I have direct personal experience in this matter. Trust that I know my limits.”
Sensing her unvoiced protests, he gave her hand a light squeeze. “The stakes are high this time – we cannot afford the slightest misstep.”
“Very well,” she acquiesced after a weighted pause.
“Then I’ll drink up.” He kept his voice low. “If my lady would be so kind as to pass the cup over…”
The girl at his side lifted the gilded wine pitcher from the table to pour him a serving. Accepting it from her with a gracious dip of his head, he clasped the vessel lightly and stared down at the clear amber liquid within.
Faint radiance rippled inside, casting wavering reflections over his features. A sudden distant look entered his eyes, as if reliving echoes from the past.
“Many years ago, this very drink was the cause of so many deaths,” he murmured.
After several long moments, he raised the poisoned wine in mocking salute and downed it smoothly in one go – every inch the nonchalant nobleman.
Mere heartbeats later, his entire body began shuddering as he was wracked by intense hacking coughs. Agony flashed nakedly across his face as he struggled for breath, palms clenching at his heart against waves of sharp convulsing pain.
“Xie Wuyang…” She forced her voice to remain steady even as alarm jolted through her. She had never witnessed him in such distress before.
“Do not be afraid,” he grit out, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “Just…a little uncomfortable… I’ll be fine again shortly…”
Immediately after, he slowly uncurled his fingers from around the empty pitcher.
The vessel struck the floor with a resounding clang.
Bronze crashing against gold echoed loudly in the sudden hush, shocking all present into swiveling round simultaneously.
In the next instant, the Crown Prince seated at the head table abruptly pitched forward without warning, collapsing limply like a marionette with severed strings.
The girl beside him quickly reached out to catch him. He fell heavily into her embrace – complexion ashen, eyes tightly shut, all color draining rapidly from his lips. The strained edge of each shallow breath seemed to scrape raw against his throat. A single full body tremor shook through him before he grew perfectly still.
Moonbeams filtered down as liquid silver, wreathing his elegant features in an ethereal glow. Ensconced within her arms, the last traces of warmth leached away until he seemed as weightless as a dissipating wisp of snow.
Panic jolted through her as she fumbled to seize his hand on instinct. Lost in dizzying darkness, by pure reflex his fingers twitched weakly in response, lightly brushing against her palm.
In a detached corner of his fading awareness, the night seemed to warp back into that long ago autumn feast – screeching strings and clamor fading into confusion amidst the fragmented shadows crowding around his spilled cup.
But this time, she was here to catch him before the fall.
She froze only an instant, mastering herself with reservoir calm. Gently cradling him close, she ensured he rested comfortably supine before leaning down to whisper by his ear, “Sleep well. Leave the rest in my hands now.”
Through the milling chaos, a maiden swept forward, crimson robes and billowing sleeves trailing after her steps rushed into the hall.
“Your Majesty…”
The lone figure knelt amidst a sea of stunned ministers, golden voice ringing clear above the turmoil – pure as channeled power, mighty as the discordant clash when shattering jade.
“…This child humbly beseeches a thorough investigation into the matter.”
Author’s note:
Xie Kang: (barely audible) I’m so fond of you.
Jiang Man: (unsatisfied) It doesn’t count unless you say it loudly!
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