“Even Shi’ba-niang is grieving so deeply – no wonder the Emperor has fallen ill with wind-stroke too.”
Madam Chen personally added another stick of calming incense and sighed as she watched Chen Shao finish a bowl of tea.
“Who could have imagined it would turn out like this?”
Chen Shao let out a low hum, pressing his fingers against his temples without saying a word.
“Then… is it really true that Prince Ping was struck by lightning?” Madam Chen asked again.
Chen Shao opened his eyes.
“I was nearly struck myself,” he said, and as he recalled that moment, a chill ran through him once more.
The wrath of heaven was truly terrifying.
This was the first time Madam Chen had heard such details, and she was immediately horrified. She quickly insisted on examining him and wanted to call for a doctor at once.
“The imperial doctor already examined me in the palace – I’m fine,” Chen Shao reassured her, adding that he had already been prescribed medicine.
Only then did Madam Chen calm down slightly.
“And the Emperor…” she hesitated before asking again.
At the mention of the Emperor, Chen Shao’s expression darkened once more.
“We’ll have to wait and see. With an illness like this…” he said.
An illness like this – not only is it difficult to recover from, but even if he does improve, he will never be the same as before.
He thought of the Emperor lying ill on his bed, of their shared past, especially of the spirited young ruler he had once been in the golden hall during their youth.
“I have long heard of your distinguished family. Today, we finally meet, and I am most pleased.”
And there were those many occasions when, seated together as ruler and subject, they discussed history and current affairs so intently that they forgot to eat, leaving the palace attendants grumbling behind their backs.
Chen Shao turned and caught sight of his own reflection in the bronze mirror nearby -hair already streaked with white. He thought again of the Emperor lying ill on his bed. When had they both grown so old…
A dry lump formed in Chen Shao’s throat. He raised his sleeve to shield his face as he drank his tea.
Madam Chen naturally noticed his distress and sighed softly.
“Then… is there truly no way for Lady Cheng to treat him?” she said.
“I even wished she could have saved Prince Ping,” Chen Shao replied, lowering his sleeve with a bitter smile.
“How could that have been possible? Do you truly think she’s an immortal?” Madam Chen shook her head, gently chiding him.
Thinking back to the girl’s amused expression when she heard his request, Chen Shao sighed again.
“I thought perhaps Prince Ping’s condition wasn’t an illness but an injury. She does possess miraculous skill in treating wounds – she can even reattach severed hands – so I…” he explained.
In desperate times, one seeks help from any quarter.
“But His Majesty suffers from an illness, and a severe one at that…” Madam Chen said anxiously.
“Severe indeed,” Chen Shao sighed. “But severe as it may be, she said she cannot treat it.”
“Does she truly not know how?” Madam Chen asked.
Chen Shao looked up at her. Under his gaze, Madam Chen felt somewhat embarrassed.
“It’s not that I doubt her… I only…” she quickly explained.
“It’s only human nature,” Chen Shao nodded in acknowledgment.
Right. If you’ve succeeded before, people will question and speculate the moment you fail once. If you’ve helped others before, they will resent and even hate you the one time you cannot. Such is human nature, an unavoidable reality.
Come to think of it, even he himself might not have dared to state so frankly, as that girl did, that he could not treat such a condition.
He wondered whether her master ever realized – by teaching her so many remarkable skills and letting her walk this path alone among people – what dangers she might face.
“Master, don’t think too much about it,” Madam Chen said, reaching out to support him. “Go and rest for a while – you still have to return to the palace.”
With the Emperor gravely ill, his life hanging in the balance, and no successor in sight, it was inevitable that the court would face great turmoil. At such a time, he simply could not afford to falter.
Chen Shao nodded and rose to go inside.
Lowering the bed curtains and watching her husband drift off to sleep, Madam Chen sat down, her expression full of sorrow.
“Indeed, it matches the celestial omen,” she murmured softly.
A lunar eclipse – a dire sign of misfortune and chaos.
News from the imperial palace in the capital spread swiftly with messengers galloping out through all four city gates.
The carriage had been ready for half the day, yet First Master Cheng still hadn’t come out. Impatiently, Second Master Cheng flicked his sleeve and hurried inside.
“Are we leaving or not? One moment he rushes us as if racing to be reborn, and the next he dawdles endlessly. What exactly does he want? Are we heading back to Jiang-zhou or the capital?”
Grumbling under his breath, Second Master Cheng pushed open the door of the room. Sure enough, he found First Master Cheng still dressed in everyday clothes, sitting and reading a letter.
“Brother, what are you waiting for?”
“For a letter,” First Master Cheng murmured in reply, appearing somewhat absent-minded.
For a letter?
What letter are you waiting for? Second Master Cheng asked impatiently.
A letter from the capital. After learning that Duke Jin’an had proposed to Cheng Jiao-niang and that the Emperor had approved, First Master Cheng had forced himself to continue the journey, though his mind was filled with doubt.
Perhaps the people in the capital hadn’t had time to write to them yet, or maybe the letter had been delayed on the way…
In any case, perhaps the next letter would arrive, instructing them to turn back toward the capital.
That was why he had pushed ahead at times but couldn’t help slowing down at others -just in case the letter came, they could rush back to the capital as soon as possible.
And now, at last, the letter had arrived.
First Master Cheng looked up, startling Second Master Cheng.
“Brother, what’s wrong?” he asked.
First Master Cheng’s face was as pale as snow, his eyes filled with terror.
Prince Ping was dead, and the Emperor lay unconscious, stricken by wind-stroke.
All that about marriage pressure, all that about Prince Ping’s threats…
They were trivial matters, utterly insignificant…
“Deciding whom to marry can wait. For now, I ask you to take Father and return quickly to Jiang-zhou.”
“Staying in the capital will not be convenient.”
First Master Cheng’s hands trembled violently once again.
So this was it… So this was the reason after all.
Was this her doing?
The thought flashed through his mind, First Great Master Cheng nearly choked.
No, no – if it truly were her doing, he wouldn’t be reading a letter now but would instead be surrounded by imperial guards.
Then… could it be that this girl possessed the power to move heaven and earth, to command spirits?
Whatever the case, it was clear they could no longer stay in the capital. They had to hurry back to Jiang–zhou – return to Jiang–zhou at once.
First Master Cheng leaped to his feet.
“Back to Jiang-zhou – now!” he shouted.
Second Master Cheng happened to lean in to examine his expression just as First Master Cheng sprang up violently. His head struck Second Master Cheng squarely in the jaw.
With a cry of pain, Second Master Cheng stumbled backward, only to see First Master Cheng already dashing out of the room.
He raised a hand to wipe his mouth, only to see it covered in blood.
“… He split my lip!” Second Master Cheng shouted, his words slurred through a broken tooth.
As the Cheng family and their entourage scrambled frantically out of the post station, others came rushing in just as hurriedly.
“… Terrible news! Prince Ping was struck dead by lightning… The Emperor has also passed away in rage…”
These words exploded like a firecracker in the snow, instantly setting the entire post station abuzz.
“… How could that be…”
“… The news is already spreading…”
“… Prince Ping was struck by lightning? Then doesn’t that mean he was smitten by divine wrath?”
“… No, the court says it was an accident…”
“… How could it possibly be an accident?”
“… They say it was an accident – apparently that miraculous disciple, Lady Cheng, is going to personally verify it. She aims to prove it truly was an accident, that the lightning was inadvertently attracted by human actions, not divine punishment…”
“… Lightning isn’t divine punishment? How could that be!”
“… Lady Cheng claims she can summon lightning herself. If lightning can be summoned by human will, how can it be considered divine punishment…”
Compared to those who had just heard the news here, people in the capital had already talked about it so much that they had moved on – and the court had even announced the date for the lightning-summoning demonstration. It was set for two days later at the Golden Water Park, sparking even more excitement than the Lantern Festival. Crowds surged from all directions, and securing a spot in the Golden Water Park had become more precious than gold.
“…This is nonsense… Since ancient times, lightning could only be avoided, never summoned…”
“…But she’s a disciple of the immortals – of course she has her methods.”
“…If she’s truly a disciple of the immortals, yet claims lightning is not divine punishment, wouldn’t that be contradictory?”
The door slid open, and a clamor of voices spilled out, causing a young maid passing by to pause in her steps. The door closed again almost immediately, cutting off the lively debate inside.
“…Will you go to see it?”
“…I certainly want to, but how could I ever squeeze through the crowds…”
Two women fetching wine whispered and grumbled as they walked by.
Chun Ling glanced into the room, then looked through the railing toward the main hall. Due to Prince Ping’s tragic death and the Emperor’s serious illness, all song, dance, and entertainment in the city had been suspended. The Desheng Pavilion had only a handful of guests, yet at every table, the conversation inevitably turned to the lightning-summoning.
Chun Ling stepped forward and entered the floor where the courtesans rested. With little to do, they had gathered in small groups, chatting leisurely.
“…Bets are already being placed. Which side are you taking?”
“Of course, I’m backing Lady Cheng,” Chun Ling replied.
The two courtesans looked at her.
“Lady Cheng is truly remarkable,” Chun Ling said, blinking earnestly and with a hint of pride.
The courtesans laughed.
“That’s right – she’s the patroness of your mistress, after all. Naturally, she’s extraordinary,” they said.
“Sisters, you should place higher bets. You’ll surely win a lot of money,” Chun Ling urged seriously.
The courtesans laughed, half-believing and half-doubting her words. Chun Ling walked past them.
Place higher bets, you fools.
It’s not just because she’s my mistress’s patroness that I say she’s remarkable – I’ve seen with my own eyes how she summoned lightning to kill.
This terrifying lady.
Chun Ling’s hands, held before her, clenched tightly.
Not even the Gao family could stop her – she even managed to kill Prince Ping!
Since this lady is so powerful, I must stay well-hidden, keep a low profile, and plan carefully. I can never let her discover me…
Otherwise, I’ll lose my last chance for revenge.
…
Inside the Zhang family residence, a girl’s low sobbing sounded once again.
“…My lady wasn’t lying – the lightning was truly summoned for herself…”
The maid wiped away her tears and wept softly.
“How perilous it was back then… Those who weren’t there could never understand…”
“On that stormy night, I lay on the roof, struggling to throw down those ropes. The wind and rain made it impossible to stand, and the thunder above roared as if it might strike me at any moment…”
“My lady was inside the room – she had to go inside, to open those doors and windows…”
“She wasn’t summoning lightning to strike those wicked people – she was summoning it to strike herself… If she hadn’t moved quickly enough then, if she hadn’t rushed out of the house at the last moment, or if those two people hadn’t been afraid of the heavy rain and followed her out, she would have been the one to die…”
“…My lady said it – not a single step could be wrong. One misstep, and it would have cost her life…”
“…How could it have been so easy? Do you think my lady could have stood far away, moved her hand lightly, and the lightning would strike whomever she wished? Nothing in this world is that simple…”
Hearing this, the old servant sighed heavily and nodded.
“Indeed, in this world, one often finds life only after risking death. To make others perish, one must first be willing to face death oneself,” he said.
Beside him, Old Master Zhang curled his lip disdainfully.
“What’s the use of saying all this? How difficult it was for you doesn’t matter to anyone else,” he remarked.
The old servant shot Old Master Zhang another urgent, tight-lipped look.
The maid sobbed even harder.
“But my lady is so wronged… she is deeply wronged! Why won’t they believe her? Why must they think of her that way, forcing her into such a corner?”
Old Master Zhang snorted dismissively.
“Silly girl, most people in this world judge others by their own standards. What you say is only what you say. How others think is their own affair – there’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ about it,” he said. “Don’t be so sad. Your lady knows this very well. You once said she seldom speaks because of her poor health – but is it only because of her health?”
It’s also because she can’t be bothered, and because there’s nothing worth saying. Speaking or staying silent makes little difference.
“Why is my lady so unfortunate?” the maid asked, wiping her tears.
Old Master Zhang laughed heartily.
“Unfortunate?” he chuckled. “She’s not unfortunate at all. When has she ever suffered a loss? Right now, she’s gained a tremendous advantage. If you’re crying, what should those who truly have reason to weep do?”
The maid looked up, stunned.
This counts as gaining a tremendous advantage?
