Last year, Cheng Danruo had spent Qixi out at sea and hadn’t celebrated it. This year, she was at a temple for Qixi, and she hadn’t celebrated it either.
It was not until the eighth day of the month that she returned to the palace by carriage alongside the other palace women.
The palace women naturally travelled in ordinary little mule carts. Since Wang Yongxu and Cheng Danruo had a certain status, they were given a horse-drawn carriage. Wooden railings enclosed the sides, with gauze curtains stretched over them to keep the carriage cool and well ventilated.
Cheng Danruo had been exhausted for days. As the carriage rocked and jolted along the road, rattling her bones until she felt they might come loose, she could barely keep her eyes open.
Wang Yongxu sat opposite her. After watching her silently for a while, she suddenly asked, “Why won’t you marry my fifth brother?”
Cheng Danruo opened her eyes. “What?”
“What is so great about entering the palace? Is it better than becoming a daughter-in-law of the Wang family?” Wang Yongxu was straightforward by nature and had no patience for beating around the bush. “My fifth brother may not be some extraordinary talent equally accomplished in letters and arms, but he’s read his books and knows right from wrong. He respects our parents and cares for his younger siblings. What gives you the right to – look down on him?”
Her voice was low, but her words came fast and sharp, each one pressing for an answer. Clearly, she had been holding this in for days.
No, to be precise, ever since she had learned that Cheng Danruo had turned down the proposal, she had wanted to ask her this question face-to-face. Was the Wang family’s standing not good enough for her? Were her parents not kind and considerate enough? Or did she look down on her favourite brother because he had achieved nothing remarkable in either scholarship or martial arts?
Yet, in the face of this barrage of questions, Cheng Danruo merely replied, “I’m not good enough for him.”
“That’s a lie,” Wang Yongxu said.
“Is it?” Cheng Danruo countered. “Don’t you think I’m not good enough for him?”
“Don’t think I’m just being polite. I genuinely don’t dislike you, and when I call you ‘sister’, I mean it.” Wang Yongxu continued, “To be honest, my mother thought your family background was a little lacking, but I put in a good word for you more times than I can count. I did the same with Fifth Brother. And after all that, you went and refused to marry him!”
Even months later, she was still indignant. “Today, you’re going to give me an honest answer. Why?”
Cheng Danruo fell silent for a moment before asking, “What about you? Why did you enter the palace? Isn’t being the granddaughter of a Minister good enough? Why insist on coming here to serve others?”
Wang Yongxu bit her lip, then lifted her chin. “Fine, I’ll tell you the truth. Last year, my mother discussed my marriage with my maternal aunt. They wanted to marry me off to my cousin, but my aunt refused to agree. My uncle’s family was willing to have me, though, as his second wife. I couldn’t swallow that insult. If I was going to be someone else’s reluctant choice, I might as well not marry at all.”
That, at least, was the honest truth.
Cheng Danruo sighed. “But hasn’t your family been settling for me, too? My adoptive father has no biological daughter, so I suppose I’m a compromise for him as well. But if I married into your family under these circumstances, I’d spend the rest of my life a rung below all of you. And you would spend the rest of yours regretting that I wasn’t born into the family. What’s the point of putting ourselves through that?”
Wang Yongxu opened her mouth to argue, but found herself at a loss for words.
After all, Fourth Madam Wang really had complained about it countless times. “If she were his own daughter, I wouldn’t be so particular about anything. But she’s adopted. Sigh, she was raised by the principal wife of the household, after all… How could I possibly feel at ease?!”
“Miss Wang,” Cheng Danruo said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, “ask yourself honestly. If I were simply Cheng Danruo, without being the adopted daughter of the Yan family, would you truly think I was good enough for your brother?”
“I do think you’re a fine girl,” Wang Yongxu replied, but then she suddenly hesitated.
If Cheng Danruo weren’t the Yan family’s adopted daughter…
“Marriage ultimately requires families of comparable standing,” Cheng Danruo said earnestly. “I have nothing against your brother, nor am I in any position to look down on anyone. It’s simply that this arrangement is better for both of us. He’ll marry a girl who’s even better suited to him than I am. You should be happy about that.”
Wang Yongxu’s expression softened abruptly. In the end, what had truly rankled her was not the rejection itself, but that Cheng Danruo had turned down the brother who loved her most.
“Forget it.” Wang Yongxu sighed, smiling wryly at herself. “What’s done is done. I must be terribly annoying, dragging up old grievances like this, don’t you think?”
Cheng Danruo said, “I can tell that you and your brother are very close.”
“Fifth Brother treats me better than anyone,” Wang Yongxu replied. “I’ve always wanted him to find a good wife who’ll be a good sister-in-law to me.”
“He will. You’ll get your wish.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Silence fell between them once more.
Outside the window, the sunlight blazed fiercely. The common people, wary of the scorching heat, kept as close to the shade as they could as they walked. But sedan chairs and carriages of every kind seemed undeterred, weaving through the streets and alleys. Their drivers shouted orders at the top of their lungs, swaggering about as though they owned the place.
Wang Yongxu gazed silently at the world outside through the gauze curtains for a while before changing the subject.
“Sister Cheng, I don’t have dysentery, do I?”
“You do,” Cheng Danruo replied.
“Did I catch it from eating something cold and upsetting my stomach?”
“That’s possible.”
“What else could it be?”
“Contaminated food or drink.”
Wang Yongxu grew deeply suspicious. “Apart from that bowl of sweet dessert, everything I’ve eaten and used has been much the same as what the other female officials have had. How could I possibly…”
Cheng Danruo remained impassive. “I’m only a physician. However…” She turned to look at Wang Yongxu. “Since everyone else has dysentery, why shouldn’t you have it too?”
“Sigh, Sister, I understand your good intentions. I understand the reasoning, too.” Wang Yongxu was forthright, but she wasn’t foolish. Whether this had been an accident or something someone had deliberately arranged, the best course was to act as though she knew nothing and wait to see how things unfolded.
She was simply puzzled. “Is it because the princess favors me that someone has grown jealous and resentful?”
Cheng Danruo said nothing.
Wang Yongxu realized she would get no answers from her and fell silent as well.
In the distance, the towering red palace walls loomed into view.
They had returned to their golden cage.
The carriage passed through the palace gate, where it was stopped for a security inspection. The guards were genuinely diligent in their duties. They lifted the curtains and examined the luggage, and only after confirming that nothing was amiss did they allow the women to enter.
However, once inside the palace gates, they could no longer travel by carriage. Wang Yongxu and Cheng Danruo each gathered up their own bundle and went their separate ways back to their own residence.
After setting down her luggage, Cheng Danruo first reported the end of her leave to Director Tao, then went to see Palace Matron Hong.
Palace Matron Hong was out, and Cheng Danruo had to wait for nearly half an hour.
As she sipped her tea, Cheng Danruo took the opportunity to observe Palace Matron Hong’s quarters.
As the highest-ranking female official in the palace, Palace Matron Hong occupied an entire main residence of her own, consisting of three rooms: one central room flanked by two smaller chambers. The central room served as a reception hall, furnished with pearwood furniture. A Shu embroidery screen stood just inside the entrance to shield the room from view, while a painting of fish playing among lotus leaves in summer hung on the wall.
Against the wall stood a set of three incense utensils, while a tall stand by the window held an ice chest filled with chilled fresh fruit. Cheng Danruo could even make out several lychee shells inside.
With such an imposing setup, even the lower-ranking imperial consorts would have been envious.
The sound of jade pendants clinking came from outside.
Palace Matron Hong entered and gave a few brief instructions before taking her seat. “What brings you here?”
Cheng Danruo handed over the small painting case beside her. “The abbot of Huiyuan Temple asked me to deliver this. The common people living at the foot of the mountain are grateful for the Empress Dowager’s benevolence, so they specially painted a portrait of Guanyin to present to her.”
As the saying went, people made a living from whatever their surroundings offered. Those living near Buddhist temples often practiced crafts associated with Buddhism. Some were skilled at carving Buddhist statues, others at embroidering Buddhist scriptures, and still others at painting images of the Buddha.
The people at Huiyuan Temple were worried that the Empress Dowager might still hold a grudge against them. Somehow, they had managed to obtain this painting and entrusted Cheng Danruo with presenting it to her.
Hong set down her teacup and gave Cheng Danruo a meaningful look before accepting the painting case and opening it.
Inside was a newly painted image of Guanyin. The brushwork was hardly masterful, no better than what one might find at a street stall. What made it remarkable, however, was the face: Guanyin’s features bore a certain resemblance to the Empress Dowager.
Moreover, the lotus flowers surrounding Guanyin were each different in their details, making it clear that several people had contributed to the painting.
“You’ve gone to considerable trouble,” Palace Matron Hong said. She had not heard anything about this from Director Pan, which meant the idea must have come about only in the past few days. “Come with me to Qingning Palace later.”
Cheng Danruo glanced at her, then lowered her head respectfully. “I merely ran an errand. It was nothing worth mentioning. Perhaps you or Director Tao should present the painting instead.”
“Oh?” Palace Matron Hong studied the young woman seated below her.
Although the two were nominally aunt and niece, they shared neither blood ties nor any real affection. Palace Matron Hong’s care for Cheng Danruo had been limited to a few words of guidance and ensuring that no one bullied or mistreated her. Of course, whether or not they were related by blood, once she had taken on the role of an elder, she could hardly ignore the girl entirely.
Over the past several months, Palace Matron Hong had kept a close eye on the Inner Hall of Peace and Joy.
Little by little, she had pieced together an impression of Cheng Danruo. She had successfully treated palace attendants on numerous occasions, proving herself quite skilled in medicine. She taught female scribes medical theory with generosity and knew how to win people’s hearts. Her exchanges with the emperor had been fluent, and she had shown a certain degree of courage. As for her recent trip to Huiyuan Temple, Director Pan had praised her for having a mind of her own. Though somewhat aloof and uncompromising, she nevertheless understood the bigger picture…
Now, a splendid opportunity had presented itself, yet she had no desire to distinguish herself before the Empress Dowager. Instead, she wanted to give Director Tao a chance to shine and make up for the blunders of the Provisioning Office.
How interesting.
“The Empress Dowager is kind and gentle, and has no desire to compete with others,” Hong said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?”
Cheng Danruo understood what she meant. The Empress Dowager kept herself removed from the power struggles of the inner palace, making her a powerful patron worth cultivating.
But Cheng Danruo truly had no wish to go.
“I haven’t visited the Hall of Peace and Joy for many days. If I have time, I’d like to go and check on things there again,” Cheng Danruo replied without hesitation. “Please grant me permission.”
What good would it do her to meet the Empress Dowager? Kneeling before the emperor was unavoidable. Her promotion and pay rises depended on that employer, so she could put up with kneeling to him. But to go and kneel before the Empress Dowager for no reason at all? Did she think her knees were too sturdy for their own good?
Hong gazed at her intently. “Very well. Do as you please.”
This girl was even cleverer than she had expected.
Her brother-in-law had taken in a fine daughter. But how had she ended up in the palace in the first place?
With the Ghost Festival approaching, the atmosphere in the palace began to change.
The palace attendants started talking frequently about strange occurrences. Some claimed to have seen flickering lights in the corners of walls while making their night rounds. Others said they had suddenly heard someone calling their names while walking along a path. The older attendants inevitably took it upon themselves to lecture the younger ones. The gates of the underworld were about to open, they warned, and wandering ghosts were searching for substitutes to take their place in death. Whatever they did, they must never answer when called, and so on.
The Inner Hall of Peace and Joy also began receiving some rather unusual patients.
“This morning, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, I was sweeping the passageway over here when I suddenly felt someone pat me on the shoulder and say, ‘Excuse me, coming through.’ I turned around, but there wasn’t a soul in sight!” The young eunuch spoke so excitedly that spittle flew from his mouth. “I pulled open my clothes to have a look, and guess what I found? A huge red patch!”
“My master says it’s a ghost’s handprint. Look!”
He tugged open his collar to show Cheng Danruo the red mark on the back of his neck.
“It’s heat rash,” Cheng Danruo said.
Another patient claimed that he had been scooping duckweed from the water when he suddenly felt a chill around his waist, as though an icy wind had wrapped itself around him. His body had begun sliding uncontrollably towards the water, and only by grabbing some aquatic plants had he managed to save himself. But when he returned to his room, he discovered a patch of red rashes around his waist.
“Shingles,” Cheng Danruo diagnosed.
And so it went, with all manner of similar tales, too numerous to recount.
When the Ghost Festival finally arrived, the palace attendants asked acquaintances to take some offerings to be burned in the Western Park. There was one important restriction: they were only permitted to send offerings when a Buddhist or Taoist ritual was being conducted in the Western Park. Burning paper offerings anywhere within the palace itself was strictly forbidden.
And the privilege of hitching a ride with the imperial procession was reserved exclusively for female officials. Naturally, when the day came, many acquaintances approached them with tearful pleas, begging them to help.
“It’s for my mother. When she was alive, I never had the chance to fulfil my duty as a daughter.”
“It’s for my whole family. They’re all gone.”
“It’s for my mother and younger brother…”
Everyone had their own sorrow to bear.
Although Cheng Danruo did not believe in ghosts or spirits, she went along with the custom and burned offerings too.
On the night of the fifteenth, the chanting from the Ghost Festival rituals carried over the palace walls, while the glow of the fires reddened the horizon.
Little by little, even the most sorrowful hearts found comfort.
The next day, the sun rose as usual. The palace attendants all said, without needing to compare notes, that they had not encountered a single strange occurrence since.
The countless ghosts had received their offerings and returned contentedly underground to rest. Meanwhile, the living continued with their lives, experiencing the joys and sorrows, the unions and separations that made up the human world.
Amid this atmosphere, a grand event was fast approaching.
Princess Rong’an, the emperor’s legitimate daughter, was about to select her husband.
