Zhu Helin suddenly opened his eyes.
The misty, emerald forest from his dream, and the great stag within it, its body radiating a faint white glow, still lingered vividly in his mind.
The air was warm and perfumed. His throat and mouth were parched; his nose and windpipe burned, as if scrubbed raw with sandpaper.
As soon as he sat up, the night-duty attendant outside hurried forward and knelt. “What are Your Highness’s orders?”
Hearing the maid’s Jinling accent, Zhu Helin began to ask, “Where’s… Fubao…” only to find that his voice was hoarse beyond recognition.
The clever young maid quickly presented the warm tea that had already been prepared. Zhu Helin drank several cups before his throat felt somewhat soothed, then asked, “Why are you here? Where’s Fubao?”
She replied softly, “Your Highness, Fu Gonggong caught a chill and feared passing it to you, so he asked this servant to take his place for a few nights.”
The Crown Prince preferred long-time attendants, those who knew his habits and required no extra instructions. He also had little patience for remembering new servants’ names. His royal father had once teased him about it: “This son of mine, fickle and restless in all things, yet somehow unwilling to part with his old attendants.”
Thus, on this trip to Nanjing, Zhu Helin had brought nearly his entire household staff from the Eastern Palace.
The Nanjing Imperial Palace, long unoccupied, had only a skeleton staff to maintain and clean it. Zhu Helin’s retinue was far too small for the grand palace, like a handful of rice tossed into a massive soup pot.
This displeased Eunuch Yan, the overseer stationed in Nanjing by the Directorate of Ceremonies in the capital. A local power figure before whom even the Six Ministries of Nanjing gave way, he felt it disgraceful that the crown prince’s presence lacked proper grandeur.
He immediately took charge, requisitioning a new batch of trained eunuchs and palace maids from various divisions to serve under the Crown Prince’s command.
The young maid now on night duty was one of those transferred from the Nanjing Shrine Administration. In her three months of service, she had barely caught a glimpse of the crown prince himself. Only after befriending Fubao had she finally been given a chance to attend the crown prince’s sleeping quarters.
Zhu Helin set down his cup and studied the girl, around fourteen or fifteen, with gentle features and a modest demeanor. She was pleasant enough to look at, and more importantly, wore no makeup, unlike certain vain maids who, noticing the Crown Prince’s maturing age, had begun painting their faces with the intention of attracting favor.
So he didn’t scold or dismiss her, only frowned slightly and asked, “What’s your name? And what incense is that?”
“Your Highness, this lowly servant is named Taoling,” she replied softly. “It’s benzoin incense, for calming the mind and aiding sleep.”
Zhu Helin said, “Remove it. I can’t stand that smell. Open the windows and let some air in.”
Taoling, a bit nervous, hurried to carry out the order. She moved the small green-jade incense burner from the room and opened a window, fanning diligently to disperse the lingering fragrance.
Zhu Helin drank another cup of tea. The roughness in his throat eased further. “That’s my least favorite scent,” he said in a low voice. “Remember that. If incense must be burned, use lingling instead.”
As she fanned, Taoling murmured, “But lingling is usually used for perfuming clothes, or woven into mats and cushions, that’s why it’s called paicao. Some is even made into fragrant soaps; it’s commonly sold in the markets.”
Zhu Helin retorted unreasonably, “Then tell the palace servants tomorrow to find a way to make it into incense. That’s the scent I like!”
Taoling could only bow her head and agree. She fetched a pillow scented with lingling and replaced the one beneath him.
Zhu Helin inhaled; the fragrance was similar to the soap scent that clung to Su Yan, but not quite the same. Still, it would do.
Taoling shut the window again. Seeing the crown prince lying there with one pillow beneath his head and another in his arms, staring up at the canopy instead of sleeping, she hesitated before asking, “Does Your Highness have any further orders?”
Zhu Helin murmured dreamily, “I keep thinking about that great white deer I saw in my dream… glowing faintly, divine and wondrous…”
Taoling froze, then blurted, “Was it a stag with golden antlers, its body pure white?”
Zhu Helin turned sharply, eyes narrowing. “How do you know what I dreamed?”
Taoling was intimidated by his gaze and quickly stepped back, bowing to report: “This is local legend, Your Highness. It is said that on Zhong Mountain, though no one knows when, appeared a white deer with golden antlers, a divine beast and a sign of auspice. Those who see it are said to be blessed; if one grinds its antlers into powder and consumes it, it can cure all illnesses and prolong life.”
Zhu Helin’s eyes cleared from their haze, and he scoffed, “Just a folk tale, and you actually believe it? So-called auspices are nothing but stories invented by local officials to flatter my royal father and secure promotions or wealth.”
“‘Heaven-sent nectar, sweet and otherworldly,’ pfft, tasted it once, it’s just translucent candied sugar! And those ‘three ears of fine grain,’ I’ve seen them, they’re no different from twin lotus flowers, just plants with a few crooked heads. What’s auspicious about that? Ministers want a good omen, my father doesn’t want to spoil the fun, so he accepts them.
“And those officials who present auspicious signs hoping for promotion and fortune, guess what happened?”
Taoling didn’t dare guess.
Zhu Helin laughed heartily. “My royal father is truly clever, he praises in public, mocks in private. He gave every official who presented an auspicious item a tanned cowhide! Hahaha…”
Taoling, realizing the meaning, wanted to laugh but dared not. She pressed her face into her sleeve.
“Those officials return home, holding the emperor-granted cowhide, and must display it at home or the office to thank Heaven. Later, if someone asks, ‘Sir, why did the emperor grant you cowhide?’ How do you think they respond? Say, ‘The emperor thinks my cowhide-flattering skills are excellent, so he gave me a piece to take home and blow on morning and night’? Ha! They’d have to pinch their noses and pretend they don’t understand. Hahaha…”
Taoling stifled a laugh. “The Zhong Mountain white deer, however, isn’t mere cowhide flattery. When I served at the Shrine Administration, I saw the mountains filled with sika deer, all said to be manifestations of the founding emperor’s dragon energy, thus called ‘Longevity Deer.’ That white deer appears among them but is rarely seen. Anyone who sees it calls it a divine beast. Even I saw it once, in a thick fog… it was so… I can’t describe it… utterly miraculous!”
At her words, the white deer in his dream’s misty forest became vivid again. Zhu Helin was half in disbelief, half curious. “You really saw it?”
“Truly. Though only a fleeting glimpse, it was a very large white deer with golden antlers.”
Zhu Helin recalled that the founding emperor’s Mausoleum was on the eastern outskirts of Nanjing, in Zhong Mountain.
Construction had begun during the emperor’s lifetime, built along the southern slopes, with majestic palaces and connected pavilions, grand and imposing. The emperor had also ordered a thousand deer raised among the pine forests, and the sound of deer calls could often be heard.
Could one of them have transformed into the golden-antlered white deer?
Whether or not it was truly auspicious, if he had the chance to see or capture it, keeping it at the Imperial Garden in the capital would be impressive. Moreover, since his father often suffered from headaches, and deer antlers are believed to strengthen essence, enrich blood, and improve bones, the white deer’s golden antlers might even have miraculous effects, possibly curing his father’s ailment!
The more he thought about it, the more he felt it was worth trying. Even the dream he’d just had seemed to carry a sense of mysterious, fated providence.
“What hour is it?” he asked.
Taoling glanced at the water clock. “Your Highness, it is the fourth watch.”
Zhu Helin said, “We’ll have to leave the palace in less than an hour for the Zhong Mountain Mausoleum rites. No more sleep, have someone bring in attendants to help me wash, change, and prepare some breakfast… small steamed soup buns.”
“But… during the fast, you cannot have meat or fish,” Taoling hesitated. “Your Highness…”
Zhu Helin pouted. “I know, I know, vegetarian only! Then vegetarian buns will do. Make plenty; today will be hard work.”
Taoling received the order, left the hall, and summoned the dressing attendants, taking the unwanted benzoin incense and its burner with her.
She carried the jade incense burner shaped like a divine beast to a remote, empty well. First, she emptied the remaining incense into a pre-dug pit, buried it firmly with soil, and scattered some dry grass and leaves to hide the traces. Then she drew well water, thoroughly cleaned the incense burner, and carried it away.
—
Su Yan rose early and changed into the ritual attire for officials accompanying the rites.
The outfit was a blue silk upper robe with a crimson lower skirt, in Su Yan’s eyes, a deep-blue cross-collared robe with a red long skirt, no, a “xun skirt.”
He wore a black gauze crown with gold threads, a wide belt at the waist, and jade pendants, plaques, and other ornaments hanging at his side. Compared with normal court attire, this was much more solemn and ceremonious.
When the Crown Prince’s procession left the palace, the ritual entourage departed in grandeur, heading for Zhong Mountain in the eastern outer city.
Before the incense-filled offering hall, the main officiant, the Crown Prince, stood at the forefront, with all accompanying officials aligned neatly behind him: the Nanjing Ministry of Rites, Nanjing Court of Music, Xiao Mausoleum Shrine Administration, and other departments, totaling several hundred officials.
The offerings, brought from all regions, included the five sacrificial animals, incense, candles, wine, fruits, lavish beyond measure.
The ritual ceremony was elaborate, heavy, and long. Throughout, Lu, the Minister of Rites in Nanjing, fretted constantly, fearing the Crown Prince would act like during rehearsal, become irritable halfway through and refuse to continue.
But to his surprise, the Crown Prince displayed a composure and solemnity far beyond his age and nature, performing flawlessly, leaving even the strictest ritual officials unable to find fault.
Even the ritual text was read evenly and with full presence:
“The sequence of qi flows, the time marks the winter solstice; recalling profound grace, submitting in sorrowful reverence, respectfully offering this ritual report, humbly hoping it is well received…”
From departure from the palace to the conclusion, the ceremony lasted four full hours, ending at the late afternoon watch.
After completing the final incense bows, the Crown Prince went to the nearby dressing hall to change. He signaled to Chengsheng Gonggong to quietly summon Su Yan from the crowd.
Su Yan, guessing the Crown Prince had some plan in mind, smiled and followed Chengsheng into the dressing hall beside the square.
As Zhu Helin changed, he beckoned Su Yan over, a hint of pride in his voice. “How do you think I performed today?”
Su Yan smiled and gave his verdict: “Perfect.” A solid hundred points, no fear of making him arrogant.
Zhu Helin couldn’t help the upward curl of his lips. “It’s still early. Later, I’ll take you to the back mountain to look for deer.”
“Look for deer?” Su Yan thought for a moment. “There are plenty in the pine groves of the mausoleum garden. Why bother searching? You could just walk up and pet them, they’re quite tame.”
Zhu Helin said, “Not those ordinary ones. I’m talking about the auspicious beast of Mount Zhong, a great white deer with golden antlers!”
Su Yan considered this. Perhaps it was just an albino sika deer, and the golden antlers were some kind of genetic mutation?
Still, in this age, it would indeed be deemed an omen of good fortune, a xiangrui, a heavenly sign. Its political and symbolic significance far outweighed its biological one. If the Crown Prince truly managed to find it, it would be seen as a blessing from Heaven, and greatly benefit his reputation among the people.
“If you do find this white deer, what do you intend to do with it?”
“I’ll think of a way to trap it, of course! Legend says the golden antlers of a white deer can be made into medicine that strengthens the body and prolongs life. I want to present it to my father.”
Well, filial devotion was certainly admirable. Su Yan was curious about this legendary white deer himself, though he had some concerns.
According to Great Ming law, any prince or royal who passed through Nanjing, indeed, even officials entering the city on business, were required to pay respects at the imperial tombs. Anyone who violated or showed disrespect at the mausoleum would be severely punished. Stealing ritual vessels or felling trees from the tomb forests was a capital crime.
Mount Zhong might be vast, but it was still the resting place of the founding emperor. Wouldn’t the Crown Prince leading a party to hunt in its woods be considered a breach of sacred ground?
Su Yan voiced his concern. The Crown Prince had already anticipated it. “The restricted zone extends twenty li from the outer wall of the mausoleum,” he said. “Beyond that, it’s fine. We’ll only be catching a deer, not slaughtering beasts or felling trees. It won’t violate any laws.”
Su Yan, who had been “pushed onto the stage” as the new Shilang of Rites, hadn’t yet fully mastered all the ceremonial regulations. Worried the crown prince might be bluffing, he excused himself under the pretense of needing the privy and detoured to consult Minister Lu.
Minister Lu stroked his beard and replied, “That’s correct. Why do you ask?”
Su Yan made up a random excuse and went back to the Hall of Attire.
Zhu Helin seemed to know exactly why he’d left, and looked displeased. “What, are you afraid I’ll stir up trouble and drag you down with me?”
Su Yan chuckled. “I’m afraid the young master isn’t used to mountain paths. I’ve sent someone to fetch a few of the mausoleum guards familiar with the terrain to serve as guides.”
At that, Zhu Helin’s irritation melted into delight. “Now that’s more like it. I heard from a maidservant who once worked at the Shengu Directorate, she said she saw the white deer near a wooded stream past the circular mound of the Xiaoling Tomb. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”
“In two hours it’ll be dark,” said Su Yan.
“A round trip will take no more than one,” said Zhu Helin. “If we don’t see it today, we’ll come again another time.”
Su Yan thought it over. No real harm in going to take a look, it’d be like a hike. The weather had been fine these few days; best to go now, before the snow fell and the mountain paths turned treacherous.
So he, too, removed his ceremonial robes and changed into a more practical yesa robe for movement.
Zhu Helin gathered a hundred sturdy attendants, bringing ropes, machetes, bows, and arrows. Led by guides from the Shengu Directorate, the group left the Xiaoling Tomb and continued north into the hills.
There were narrow goat trails winding up the slope, just enough to walk if one watched their footing, no need for climbing.
After about half an hour, they glimpsed a waterfall glinting through the trees ahead. One of the guides reported, “Your Highness, this is said to be the place where the white deer most often appears.”
