“If something had gone wrong, would I still be in the mood to scold anyone?” Song Chuyi squatted down on the corridor with her hands tucked into her sleeves.
Ji Huan let out a breath of relief, only then realizing that his back was already soaked through. At this moment, he no longer dared harbor the slightest trace of contempt, because by comparison, his earlier conduct had been truly foolish.
Although Ji Huan had not deliberately slighted Song Chuyi, subconsciously he had never thought highly of her. If the person sitting here had been Zhang Yi, presumably today’s blunder would not have occurred.
“Since you’ve decided to use me, then show absolute loyalty – not loyalty to me, Song Huaijin, but to your Wey State’s thirty thousand soldiers, to your Wey State.” Song Chuyi lifted her head, her gaze calm and indifferent as she fixed it on Ji Huan. “If you want to say you don’t trust me now, there’s still time.”
Ji Huan was overcome with shame. He lowered his head and clasped his fists, saying, “I know my mistake. Such a thing will absolutely not happen a second time.”
In this matter, the greatest fault lay with Ji Huan. Yun Ruo was merely a low-ranking soldier with little say in front of a chiliarch, so Song Chuyi did not question him either.
Seeing Song Chuyi turn and walk toward the bedchamber, Ji Huan could not help asking, “Master Huaijin, since Official Tao has gone to meet the Lord of Song, is there already some chance of success in this matter?”
Song Chuyi paused her steps, came back to herself, and raised an eyebrow slightly. “A chance of success? Yes, there is – but it lies with me, not with Tao Ding.”
This was not Song Chuyi being arrogant; it was simply the truth.
Tao Ding was wholeheartedly concerned for the country and its people. Given his status, he could still have some say in front of Lord Ti Cheng of Song. However, Tao Ding was a staunch supporter of Confucianism and had once greatly admired Mencius. Mencius had once put forward the idea that “the people are noble and the ruler is light.” In an era where monarchical power reigned supreme, no ruler would genuinely like such a notion.
As far as Song Chuyi knew, the person Lord Ti Cheng of Song trusted most was the High Minister Song Yan. However, Song Yan was fond of amassing wealth and was very “practical.” No matter how grand a pie was drawn for him, or how much money, wealth, and treasure was promised, it would be useless – unless one came knocking on his door with goods in hand. Song Chuyi had nothing but empty sleeves. If she knocked on his door, she would probably be carried off and thrown into the street.
Persuading Tao Ding meant the matter was already one small step toward success. The remaining larger half would depend on tomorrow.
Being in the State of Song, there were some things that could not be spoken aloud, so Song Chuyi had no intention of explaining to Ji Huan. She went into the room to sleep on her own. Just before closing the door, Song Chuyi grinned and said, “Lord Ji, I hope no female attendant will crawl onto my couch tonight. If that happens, I cannot guarantee things will remain as steady as before.”
Although she had nothing above, she had nothing below either.
“Yes.” Ji Huan’s expression was solemn.
Song Chuyi gave a dry laugh, turned, and closed the door. As she climbed onto the couch, she muttered, “Is this joke not funny? Or was it too profound, and that big fool couldn’t understand it?”
Song Chuyi decisively believed the latter.
The moonlight was cold and clear all night. Outside, Ji Huan and Yun Ruo took turns keeping watch. Inside, Song Chuyi lay on the vast couch, sleeping from vertical to horizontal, from the middle to the foot of the bed, then back to the head of the bed, and from horizontal back to vertical.
When she opened her eyes the next day, her sleeping posture was actually not much different from the night before – only her hair and clothes were in complete disarray. Therefore, Song Chuyi had always believed that she slept very properly, and to this day she still believed so.
After a simple wash and breakfast, someone came to attend to Song Chuyi’s bathing and changing of clothes. The so-called bathing was not really soaking in a tub, but rather adding spices to the bathwater to remove bodily odors, as a sign of respect for the ruler.
Song Chuyi dismissed the maids, rinsed herself off, and only after putting on the clean clothes that had been prepared did she walk out of the bathing room.
Because her hair had still not dried when she slept the night before, and after tossing about on the couch all night, it had gotten wet again this morning. Two maids spent a full half hour, sweating profusely, before they finally combed it smooth.
“No need to add a cap.” Song Chuyi thought that since she was young, there was no need to deliberately dress as an adult, which would actually make her look like a young child wearing an elder’s clothes.
“This was ordered by the steward,” the maid said awkwardly.
Song Chuyi did not answer. Instead, she tapped out a rhythm and sang. Her clear and light voice echoed through the empty bedchamber, not without its own charm. “The branches of the sparrow gourd, a boy wears the tooth pendant. Though he wears the tooth pendant, can he not know me? How composed and satisfied he looks, his hanging sash trembling. The leaves of the sparrow gourd, a boy wears the archer’s ring. Though he wears the archer’s ring, can he not match me? How composed and satisfied he looks, his hanging sash trembling.”
This was a poem from the “Wei Feng” section of the Book of Songs, called “Sparrow Gourd.” Its general meaning was to satirize a boy who, despite wearing adult attire and putting on a dignified and serious appearance, still behaved in a childish and ignorant manner.
Song Chuyi turned her head and looked at the maid’s face, then smiled slightly and said, “In order to show respect for your lord, it is better not to make such a mockery of a costume. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I do not know,” the maid said, lying prostrate on the ground.
“I am an envoy of Wey. It is only proper to be cautious. There is no need for you to be frightened.” Song Chuyi stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was quite satisfied with this plain-colored broad robe. Although the dark garment she had worn yesterday was steady, it made her waist appear slender. If someone deliberately paid attention, they might have noticed something improper. As for this robe, perhaps someone had deliberately wanted to make her look foolish, for it had been prepared much too loose. If she did not wear a cap, it could instead show a bit of a youth’s unruliness, and it also happened to conceal her figure.
“The carriage in the residence is ready. May the envoy set out?” a maid asked from outside the door.
Song Chuyi then walked out just like that. Led by the maid, she got onto an ox cart, which slowly drove toward the Song palace.
At that time, there were two kinds of carriages: ox carts and horse carriages. In fact, however, whether ox carts or horse carriages, both were extremely luxurious things. But with wars raging, horses were mostly used for battle, so nobles generally still used ox carts.
After traveling for about a quarter of an hour, the cart stopped.
Song Chuyi looked up and saw a long flight of steps with guards standing in formation on both sides. Looking upward, she could only see the roof ridge of a palace, and faintly make out patterns of divine beasts. Everything around was paved with stone bricks, and the simple gray set off a kind of elegance and grandeur.
“The envoy of Wey has arrived.”
The moment Song Chuyi’s feet touched the ground, a shrill voice shouted from the top of the stairs. Ji Huan and Yun Ruo could not follow her up to the hall, so they could only wait below.
As Song Chuyi walked up, she heard the palace attendant standing at the palace gate continue to shout, “The envoy of Wey has arrived.”
This was not the first time she had experienced such a situation, and after having gone through a life-and-death ordeal, her state of mind was even calmer than before.
Song Chuyi took off her shoes and socks at the door and walked into the hall. The floor inside the hall was covered with thick wool felt, and there were braziers all around, so it was not cold even with bare feet.
“The envoy of Wey, by order of the King of Wey, pays respects to the Lord of Song.” Song Chuyi made a deep bow.
The person seated at the top suddenly gave a cold laugh. “What, does the Marquis of Wey feel uneasy, that he sent two envoys one after another?”
