Consort Jing Chapter 23

The Empress Dowager had gotten angry with a rigid old scholar who couldn’t adapt to circumstance. When Princess Yang’a heard about it, she immediately hurried into the palace to visit. The princess loved lively gossip, she always kept tabs on whose wives and concubines were competing for favor, which households had quarrelsome in-laws and sometimes told amusing bits to the Empress Dowager to make her laugh.

Last year, after a public scandal in her own household that became the talk of the city and seeing the schadenfreude on many faces, including those of former rivals now smug in victory, she’d grown tired of pretending and finally settled down at home for a while.

Yet even at home, peace was scarce. Her Princess Consort seemed possessed — once such a gentle and compliant man, he now contradicted her in everything. Sometimes, when he angered her to the limit, he would brazenly argue back, like a dead pig unafraid of boiling water. The angrier she became, the more animated he grew. Fortunately, he spent so much energy arguing with her that he had little left for that woman Wang Fu, visiting her less often and so the princess endured.

With troubles of her own and so many upheavals in Noble Consort Xu’s palace after childbirth, she hadn’t paid much attention to other matters. Upon arriving, she first went to the Shoucheng Hall. The Empress Dowager was fine, her anger hadn’t sunk deep. After a good night’s sleep, she’d let go of the whole affair. In her heart, she knew: Huang Gusheng’s arrogance was tied to the Emperor’s favoring of southern scholars. She could no longer dissuade him, nor did she wish to, she had already relinquished power to him; to take it back now would be fickle.

After all, she’d seen what became of others who overstepped; Madam Yang, for instance, had not entered the palace again since the banquet celebrating the Eldest Prince’s first full month. The Empress Dowager, secluded as she was, still saw everything clearly.

Why? Because favor breeds arrogance and arrogance breeds transgression. Her son, for all his decisiveness, was still a Zhao by blood; he could be ruthless when necessary, and though sentimental, would never be ruled by it. The resentment that had been lodged in her chest for years suddenly dissolved. In a good mood, she couldn’t be bothered to dwell on petty matters. All she cared about now was eating and drinking well, and escaping the summer heat, she was already planning to move to the summer palace. When her daughter arrived, she simply told her to pack up and come along.

Since the Empress Dowager was in such good spirits, there was no need for comfort or advice. Princess Yang’a found herself with nothing to do, nor dared to bring up her own marital woes. After sitting for a bit and waiting for the Empress Dowager to nap, she went off to Fengyi Palace.

Fengyi Palace was even cooler than the Empress Dowager’s hall; fewer people, denser trees, and a canal running just outside its wall, channeling water from the imperial park. The palace of all others that benefited most from this was Fengyi Palace. The Empress, well-funded and generous, spared no expense on ice.

At each of the four corners of her sitting room stood a large basin of ice, exuding a faint chill that made one instantly alert upon entering.

Princess Yang’a laughed. “I used to think your place was too quiet, but now it’s clear you’ve got the best spot. Royal Mother can’t stand the heat, even her ice basins are larger than yours, yet your palace still feels more comfortable.”

On such a sweltering day, it was rare for the princess to cross the imperial gardens just to visit. Meng Guqing invited her to sit and told Caiwei to bring some iced dessert bowls for her guest.

Ancient people, truth be told, were excellent eaters. Books like Suiyuan Recipes and Ancient and Modern Food Records showed how richly varied their cuisine was, far more inventive than many modern dishes. Ice desserts had existed long ago; what they lacked were modern “toppings.” At most, they used fresh fruits or dried ones like raisins and plums.

These past few days, Meng Guqing had experimented with pearls, taro balls, and even jelly. Caiwei, helping her, was amazed, “I’d never thought of putting glutinous rice balls into shaved ice!” Fusan learned quickly too, memorizing the names of these “toppings,” though she still thought jelly resembled “frozen cakes.”

No matter, the moment these homemade iced bowls appeared, they conquered everyone in Fengyi Palace.

Princess Yang’a hadn’t noticed at first, but after one spoonful, she too exclaimed it was delicious. Her initial politeness, visiting only because her brother lingered here, began to fade. In truth, the Empress was a kind and steady woman, one worth befriending. In a harem filled with intrigue as fierce as court politics, she had never sought trouble. Even now, though more favored than Noble Consort Xu, she was as calm and unassuming as before.

Princess Yang’a’s devotion to Noble Consort Xu also eased; after all, she was the Emperor’s elder sister. Whether she flattered anyone or not, what was hers could not be taken away.

She thought back to before, when she believed the Empress was out of favor, had spoken poorly of her before the Emperor, and earned a scolding for it. Fighting had only made it worse. Those experiences had taught her something, though mostly because of her own domestic troubles.

Thinking of that, her heart soured again, and she began to confide her grievances to the Empress.

Ancient men and women were often ashamed to speak of affection. Many had raised families yet remained emotionally stunted compared to modern middle schoolers. In Meng Guqing’s eyes, Princess Yang’a was the same, she must love her husband, or she wouldn’t have insisted on marrying him. But as a princess, born noble, she could only love from above, with authority first and affection second. Yet her husband was no object without feelings. Over time, such unequal love was bound to break down.

The solution was simple: either treat each other as equals, soften herself, and restore the marriage or…

Looking at the princess’s distressed face, Meng Guqing thought she clearly still loved him. Advising her to start anew would be presumptuous, there was an old saying: Better to break ten temples than destroy one marriage. This wasn’t the modern world; divorce wasn’t a casual matter.

So she simply listened and, to lighten the mood, told a story about her own brother and sister-in-law.

Her eldest brother, Gaochang Wang Shizi, was second only to their father in status. Their mother had died young, their father was consumed by politics, and the boy had grown into something of a spoiled playboy. Her sister-in-law, daughter of a general, was fiery by nature, they disliked each other from the first meeting. But since their fathers were sworn friends, the marriage had been set in stone. Even her second aunt had despaired, how could two firecrackers live under one roof?

Yet miraculously, after marriage, they got along splendidly. A year later, they had a plump, healthy son, shocking all who had predicted disaster.

Princess Yang’a, intrigued, bit into a crisp plum and asked, “How did your sister-in-law tame your brother? She’s a general’s daughter, must be good at martial arts! Did she beat him into submission? If only I’d learned some kung fu myself!”

Meng Guqing glanced at Caiwei, who was stifling laughter, and told her to fetch some ripe loquats.

The princess, eager for the next part, said, “No, wait, I’m fine with these, these plums are so refreshing, even better than the ones from my manor. Where did you get them?”

“They were sent from Noble Consort Xu’s palace. I was ill a few days ago and couldn’t eat cold things, so I saved them.”

Princess Yang’a nodded. “Ah, Noble Consort Xu’s palace has been busy. The little prince isn’t nursing well in this heat, and her right hand, Guyu, fell ill and was sent out of the palace. Even if she recovers, she won’t be allowed back. I’m going to visit later. But first, tell me, what happened with your brother and sister-in-law?”

At the mention of Guyu being sent out sick, Meng Guqing’s thoughts scattered. “What illness did she have? Why can’t she return even after recovering?”

Fortunately, it wasn’t a secret. Princess Yang’a said it was some kind of rash or skin disease that appeared during the change of seasons, she wasn’t clear on the details. Since Noble Consort Xu’s palace housed the imperial heir, they couldn’t risk infection, so Guyu was sent away for treatment. It happened around the time Meng Guqing herself had been ill, Guyu had even delivered things to her several times.

Meng Guqing immediately thought, many skin rashes were contagious, especially to someone weak from illness. Such ailments lingered if untreated. And what a coincidence, Guyu had fallen ill with rashes and had been frequently delivering things to her, then was abruptly sent away…

She didn’t have time to dwell on it; Princess Yang’a was eager to hear the rest of the story.

In truth, there was no great secret to it, it was all about mutual respect and understanding. Her sister-in-law had a quick temper, yes, but was genuine and devoted, never undermining her husband’s dignity in public. Her brother, though fond of leisure, grew more responsible after their child was born, their bond deepened naturally.

Having heard enough, the princess soon took her leave.

Meng Guqing sat in the room, staring at the patch of sunlight spilling in from the doorway, feeling a surge of weariness toward this palace filled with hidden filth.

In the next room, Fusan had been doing needlework and heard everything clearly. As soon as the princess left, she came in with a basin of vinegar, telling Meng Guqing to soak her hands and feet.

Though several days had passed and she had no symptoms, which meant she was fine, soaking anyway offered peace of mind. Removing her jade bracelet, she lowered her hands into the vinegar.

Fusan’s expression was grave. “Later, I’ll have incense burned all over the palace and tomorrow we’ll wash everything down with a solution of ash and herbs…”

Then she muttered, “Thank goodness we’ve kept things clean. Niang Niang has been careful with food while ill, otherwise—”

Meng Guqing really couldn’t swallow this breath. “They all say she’s gentle and composed, a rare woman of virtue and restraint, the next time I hear that, I’ll slap whoever says it.”

Fusang, ever the steady one, knew her mistress was only venting and wouldn’t actually do something so rash. Meng Guqing took her hand and pressed it into the basin as well, muttering gloomily, “I still can’t quite believe it.”

What she couldn’t believe was that Noble Consort Xu would stoop to such petty, low-born tricks. But she had to admit, crude as the method was, if it worked, it was disgusting enough, and left no trace behind.

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t believe Noble Consort Xu would take advantage of such a “cheap and effective” opportunity, but rather that she didn’t want to believe people could truly change like that. She prided herself on always considering everyone’s interests. As Empress, she had been dutiful, conscientious, always de-escalating conflicts, she’d never done Noble Consort Xu any wrong. Yet thinking about it now, perhaps the fact that Zhao Donglin now visited only Fengyi Palace had already offended every other concubine in the harem. Especially Noble Consort Xu, the liveliness of Fengyi Palace had all been “stolen” from Jianjia Palace; her resentment had plenty of reason to fester.

And even if Noble Consort Xu had once been content with her position, at that height she was no longer merely herself, she had become a symbol, a banner. Behind her stood a crowd of people, her child, her natal family; none of whom would allow her to sit idly by. People live within their environments, and “resources” are limited; if you don’t wish to suffer losses yourself, you must make others suffer them. Meng Guqing understood the ruthless logic of survival within the palace but understanding it didn’t mean she accepted it as a reason to harm others.

Before this, she’d always told herself that she would not let “their” filth stain her hands, because one day she would leave this place. She had another fate waiting for her beyond the palace walls. But now, hearing of such an invisible, untraceable way of striking down one’s enemy, even her long-trained patience began to waver.

The summer cicadas screamed incessantly in the trees, grating on her already heavy mood. As the sun set, the only cool place was near the Feng Pool by the imperial gardens but that was where other consorts went to cool off, and she wasn’t in the mood for company. So she called for Caiwei and Fusang to walk with her through the small garden outside Yinghua Hall.

It had once been an abandoned corner, later cleared and connected to the imperial park, separated only by a high wall. Voices could be faintly heard from beyond. Meng Guqing found a smooth rock by the pond and sat down. The stone was still warm from the setting sun. Propping her chin in her hands, she stared at the rippling water in a daze until Fusang’s stomach suddenly growled beside her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Fusang flushed with embarrassment. “It’s too hot today. I got greedy and ate too much of that ice bowl. My stomach’s not feeling right.”

“Then you’d better head back.”

“This place is remote, it’s not good for Your Majesty to stay alone. I’ll wait a bit longer, Caiwei will be here soon.”

Caiwei had also soaked her hands in vinegar earlier; when she’d said they were itchy, Meng Guqing, worried she might’ve caught something, had sent her to apply ointment. If that didn’t help, she’d have to call a physician.

“You said it yourself, Caiwei will be here soon. What’s there to fear? Beyond this wall is the imperial park; there are plenty of people there. Shout once and someone will come running. What could possibly happen? Go on, if it’s really bad, take some ruxingsan, and you’ll be fine by morning.”

Meng Guqing’s words were meant to reassure her, but Fusang thought to herself, this was still the imperial harem; even if the park was full of people, the gates were locked tight at night. If something did happen, who could reach them in time? But the cramps in her stomach were getting worse; she couldn’t hold it anymore. Murmuring an apology, she turned and hurried off.

The night was quiet, the air rarefied, the moon hung high, water trickled softly, and the warm wind brushed against her face, soothing enough to make her drowsy. She rested her head on her knees, thinking she’d just close her eyes until Caiwei came…

Half-asleep, she thought she heard shouting. When she focused, she realized it was real; the noise and the flicker of torches from the imperial park were moving in her direction, shouts of “thief” echoing faintly. Thankfully, not “assassin” but trouble enough.

Caiwei still hadn’t come, and Meng Guqing didn’t dare wait. It wasn’t far anyway; she decided to head back on her own. But as soon as she stood, a heavy thud landed nearby. Before she could even see who it was, someone rushed forward and clamped a hand over her mouth.

The glare in the stranger’s eyes said plainly: If you make a sound, you’re dead.

Meng Guqing thought the exposed half of that face looked strangely familiar but for the sake of her life, she didn’t dare resist. She blinked to signal compliance. Her captor didn’t look reassured, only gave a soft, ambiguous grunt.

Unfortunately, the guards on the other side of the wall hadn’t yet given up. One suggested climbing over to look; another warned, “That’s the harem, what if we see a consort? We’ll be in deep trouble.” Someone else said knowingly, “That’s the Cold Palace. Any woman there’s probably a mad one.”

Meng Guqing sighed inwardly. So much for Tan Ying’s “highly skilled” men, all talk and no decorum. The man gripping her waist clearly wasn’t one to be trifled with; when he heard those voices, his hand only tightened, scanning for a hiding place.

Then, from the direction she’d come, a dim lantern glow flitted past the rocks, followed by familiar voices.

“Why did you leave Her Majesty alone?”

“You’re one to talk! I told you to hurry, and you dawdled.”

It was Fusang and Caiwei. They crept closer, heard the guards scolding each other beyond the wall, and after a while, when the footsteps faded, they called softly, “Your Majesty? Your Majesty, where are you?”

“She was sitting right here when I left, where did she go?”

“Oh no, she didn’t fall into the water, did she?” Caiwei gasped.

“Don’t be silly. Her Majesty can swim better than both of us. Maybe she just wanted some quiet and went back another way. Let’s split up and look.”

Their voices faded into the distance.

Meanwhile, their “missing” mistress was underwater, held fast in someone’s iron grip. No matter how she struggled, it was like punching a pillow, utterly futile. But it was, admittedly, the perfect hiding place. Once the area above fell silent again, she was hauled to the surface.

And as she broke through the water, she finally saw that face, luminous, ethereal in the moonlight and remembered where she’d seen them before. At the same time, she realized this was no palace maid. The straight-backed frame, the unmistakably firm physique, this was a man.

And clearly, not a mute one either.

Beautiful things bring trouble, she thought grimly. She’d never made such a ridiculous blunder before, thank heavens no one else knew. And she had no intention of uncovering his secrets. Turning her head aside, she said stiffly, “I don’t care why you’re here, and I won’t hold this against you. As long as you don’t harm me, I’ll pretend I never saw you.”

She’d always known she would one day leave this place, the fewer palace secrets she knew, the safer she’d be. Whoever he was, whatever his reason for sneaking into the harem, she wasn’t curious.

But the young man before her clearly had a perverse temperament. When she drew boundaries, his lips curled in a malicious smile, and he said deliberately, “My name is Xiao Shuo. I live by Xifu Temple, behind the imperial park.”

“You—!” Meng Guqing’s anger flared but the icy gleam in his eyes stopped her cold. Did he enjoy watching people lose control? What twisted amusement. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Swimming to the bank, she climbed up, skirts dripping, face stern. “I didn’t hear a thing,” she said. “Do as you please.”

Heart pounding, she walked back alone, half-expecting to be stopped but no one came. When she finally reached a bend in the rocks, curiosity got the better of her and she glanced back. The water and shore were empty. Only a glimmer of moonlight shimmered on the wet stones as if everything that had just happened were a dream.

“What a strange man,” she muttered. Still, his martial skill was impressive and he looked so young.

Despite her claim of “hearing nothing,” she couldn’t resist discreetly asking around about this “Xiao Shuo.” It turned out he wasn’t some nameless intruder, he was the Crown Prince of Fulan.

Fulan lay southeast of Former Yan, a small country known for silk, tea, and spices. It had once been a vassal of Zhou, the great state across the river. But a few years before Wu’s founding, Zhou fell into turmoil. With Wu’s armies advancing to their borders, Fulan had hastened to surrender, sending tribute each year and offering its crown prince as a hostage.

That was six years ago. Back then, the regent had ruled with absolute power while Zhao Donglin sat as his puppet emperor. For a tiny vassal like Fulan, no one cared, so much so that their crown prince had no proper residence, living instead beside a temple.

Thinking of those cold, indifferent eyes, Meng Guqing finally understood his warped temperament.

So young, torn from home, living as a hostage, it would be strange if he weren’t twisted. In such a distorted environment, few could remain whole.

And recalling how he’d shoved her underwater without hesitation; if she hadn’t known how to swim, she’d be dead. Clearly, this was someone who held little regard for human life, a dangerous man indeed.

Still, in both their brief encounters, she hadn’t done anything to provoke him. She’d even turned away to avoid looking at his face, yet he insisted on revealing his name. Whatever game he was playing, she had no intention of taking the bait. Best to pretend none of it ever happened.

The real trouble was explaining herself to her maids. When she returned drenched that night, she’d nearly scared them to death. Luckily, she wasn’t hurt, and they believed her story that she’d slipped on moss and fallen in.

After that, neither Caiwei nor Fusang would let her walk alone again. Caiwei even huffed, “All that trouble from that palace, making Your Majesty so upset. You should just tell His Majesty instead of protecting others.”

Meng Guqing had her own considerations. If she went to make accusations when nothing had actually happened, people would say she was fabricating lies. Even with the news that Guyu had fallen ill and been removed from the palace, Princess Yang’a who was the source of that information was unlikely to stand up and testify for her. And besides, skin ailments like sores or rashes often arose with the change of seasons. There was no way to determine exactly when Guyu had become sick. Even if it could be investigated, wouldn’t that be making a mountain out of a molehill?

Since Noble Consort Xu had gone to such lengths in her scheming, Guyu must already have been properly dealt with. A few days ago, Meng Guqing had still been thinking that Zhao Donglin was the one suffering in silence, but now it seemed the tables had turned, her own turn had come. The most she could do was stay vigilant. After all, as the saying went, there’s no thief who steals for a thousand days, but there are no guards who guard for a thousand days either.

The more she thought, the more disgusted she became. Slamming the book shut, she abruptly stood up and called to Caiwei and Fusang. “Both of you, start getting ready. In a few days, when the Empress Dowager goes to the Shanglin Palace to escape the summer heat, we’ll be going with her.”

If she couldn’t afford to offend, she could at least avoid them. Meng Guqing had made up her mind. She personally went to see the Empress Dowager to request permission, wisely deciding not to inform Zhao Donglin for the time being. After all, he was currently busy with his “amusements” and had neither the time nor the mood to concern himself with harem affairs. When he finally learned that the Empress Dowager was leaving the capital and that the Empress would be accompanying her, it was already early July.

At that time, Zhao Donglin was fully absorbed in developing the Imperial Park’s entertainments to their peak. The grand cuju tournament, which was meant to further the public’s impression of the emperor as indulgent and decadent, was in full swing. The wrestling and horse-racing events that followed were equally elaborate. How could he possibly leave?

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