Xie Chichun - Chapter 34

　　
Xie Zhen seemed utterly intoxicated, his words slurred and incoherent. “But how can I make amends? Without Qingqing, this isn’t a home anymore. Jun’er…” A trace of sobriety tugged at him in his daughter’s presence, and he struggled to his feet, pointing at the various objects in the room. “All these things… she left them behind. Back then, she loved reading—this bookshelf was made just for her… and that dressing table…”

“Father!” Xie Jun could bear it no longer. Seeing him wallow in such self-pity, she stamped her foot and turned to leave.
—If he couldn’t let go of Tao Shi, why had he done those disgraceful things in the first place? Since they had already separated and the family had long since broken apart, why couldn’t he pull himself together after ten years and properly care for his children? What was the point of this endless moping?

Xie Xuan, too, was both embarrassed and indignant. But anger wouldn’t solve anything, so she crouched in front of Xie Zhen and suppressed her frustration to advise him, “Books say there are two kinds of people who make mistakes: one buries their guilt deep inside, letting it become an obstacle—what’s called ‘an arrow of regret piercing the heart.’ The other actively repents, makes amends, and seeks liberation. I think… rather than reminiscing here, you should go to Xuanguan Temple. At least there, you might find another path.”

Having never truly confided in Xie Zhen before, Xie Xuan felt slightly awkward after speaking.

Fortunately, Xie Zhen was too drunk to dwell on it. He chewed over her words, murmuring, “An arrow of regret piercing the heart…?”

All these years, he had hidden in the confines of the Tangli Courtyard, deliberately avoiding, ignoring, and forgetting—even neglecting his children. Only when thoughts of Tao Shi occasionally surfaced did the pain strike him anew. Wasn’t that exactly an arrow of regret lodged in his heart?

So he had been this foolish all along. Even his young daughter understood this truth, yet he had never deeply reflected on it.
The sisters stood for a while longer, watching as Xie Zhen seemed lost in thought. Seeing no further reaction, they decided not to linger. They called for a maid and instructed her to summon some servants to help Xie Zhen back to his study later.

By the time they returned to the Tangli Courtyard, Lady Luo had just come back from outside. The maid behind her carried an untouched food box—apparently, she had gone to Xie Zhen’s study to look for him but found it empty.

Lady Luo had been suffering lately—between the punishment of kneeling in the ancestral hall and Xie Zhen’s cold neglect, her resentment festered. Even when Xie Yue came to her, acting spoiled, she received no warmth in return.

Half a month passed in this uneasy stalemate before news arrived from outside—

The incident of the ferocious tiger at the temporary palace had been investigated, and it was said that the Crown Prince had orchestrated it in an attempt to assassinate the Emperor.

This revelation sparked widespread debate. Some claimed the Crown Prince, grown impatient in his advanced age, sought to seize power. Others suspected he had been framed—after all, the Crown Prince was known for his benevolence. How could he possibly commit patricide?

Emperor Yuanjing, clearly weighing the matter carefully, punished the officials involved but merely confined the Crown Prince to the Eastern Palace without further penalty. It seemed even the Emperor harbored doubts—otherwise, the Crown Prince would have already lost his head, let alone retained the privilege of remaining in the Eastern Palace.

Amid this turmoil, no one dared stir up trouble. The entire Duke of Heng’s household carried on quietly, the only noticeable change being an increase in outings.

Xie Xuan, too, stayed in the Tangli Courtyard, passing the days with Xie Jun or visiting Xie Dan, practicing calligraphy and reading. Before she knew it, the winter solstice arrived.

The winter solstice was a day of grand celebration, its festivities rivaling those of the New Year.

The Duke of Heng’s residence had prepared early, decorating the entire estate anew. From the Old Master Xie down to the youngest grandchildren, everyone donned fresh clothes, their spirits bright under the winter sun.

Normally, the Old Master Xie rarely appeared in the Rongxi Pavilion, but today, he sat with the Old Lady Xie, receiving greetings and blessings from their sons, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren. He even handed out red envelopes—each personally prepared by him. Xie Jun’s was the most generous, while the other granddaughters received similar amounts, though Xie Xuan’s included an extra string of nanmu prayer beads.

At noon, the Emperor hosted a banquet in the South Royal Garden to mark the occasion. That evening, the Old Master Xie, Xie Zhen, Xie Yu, Xie Ti, and others would dine with friends outside, so the family gathered for an exceptionally lavish breakfast instead.

When the procession of carriages arrived by the Xie Pond, the Old Master Xie led the men to pay respects to the Emperor and the imperial princes, while the Old Lady Xie took the three madams and six granddaughters to greet the Empress, imperial consorts, and princesses.

The gathering of noblewomen before the Empress was a dazzling spectacle of silk and jewels, every face radiant with joy. Even the Crown Princess, attending alone, wore a bright smile—as though the Crown Prince’s confinement had not affected her in the slightest.

Xie Xuan followed the Old Lady Xie in kneeling to offer congratulations. The Empress bestowed the customary gifts before saying to the Old Lady Xie, “It has been too long since the venerable madam last visited the palace. Sister Wan has missed you dearly. Since we are all reunited today, let us speak freely.”

The Empress, just a year younger than Emperor Yuanjing, was now forty-nine. Surrounded by imperial consorts in their prime—none older than thirty—her age showed more starkly against their vibrant beauty.
Yet as the Empress who had presided over the imperial harem for thirty years, her dignity and grace remained untouched by time. She had long since ceased competing for the Emperor’s favor, allowing her to interact with the consorts with magnanimity.

The Old Lady Xie bowed again, smiling. “Many thanks for Her Majesty’s consideration.”

Nearby, Consort Wan also rose with a smile, curtsying in gratitude.

The Empress merely nodded. At her age, having witnessed the rise and fall of countless beauties in the palace, she no longer vied for the Emperor’s affection. With the Crown Prince as her son, Prince Yue’s mother long dead, and Prince Jin’s mother, Consort Yu, treading carefully, the younger consorts maintained at least superficial harmony in her presence.

Xie Xuan couldn’t help but wonder—with the Crown Prince imprisoned, likely framed, why wasn’t the Empress anxious? Did she suspect Prince Yue, that hidden viper? If she did, she must be seething with regret—

Years ago, after failing to conceive for many years, the Emperor had sired his first child with a palace maid. That child, despised by all, was abandoned in the cold palace. Though the Empress recognized the threat, without an heir of her own, she kept him as insurance for her future position as Empress Dowager.

By the time Prince Yue turned five, the Empress finally bore the Crown Prince. Prince Yue, playing the fool, evoked her maternal sympathy, and she spared him for the sake of accumulating virtue for her own son. Later, when Prince Yue was sent as a hostage to Tiele and returned to the Emperor’s pitying indulgence, the Empress lost her chance to eliminate him.

Who could have imagined that the pitiful fool rolling in the cold palace would become such a venomous snake?

Glancing at the Empress’s demeanor toward Prince Yue’s wife—indistinguishable from her treatment of the Crown Princess—Xie Xuan couldn’t guess her thoughts. But such a seasoned player of the imperial court was beyond her comprehension. After finishing her bows, she followed the Old Lady Xie and Consort Wan to a screened-off private chamber.

The banquet was held on a vast grassy field, now partitioned by hundreds of exquisite folding screens—each mounted on carved sandalwood frames, some of sheer silk, others of jade, depicting scenes of prosperity and fortune. Arranged in staggered rows, they formed numerous elegant enclosures.

Inside, thick carpets covered the ground, with low tables knee-high for seating. The tables were laden with fruits, wine, and tea, accompanied by an array of pastries prepared by the imperial kitchens. Vases of fresh flowers, supplied by the palace gardens, lent a springlike air to the chilly winter day.

Consort Wan and the Fifth Princess sat at the head of the table, with the Old Lady Xie beside them. Next came Lady Luo, Lady Yue, and Lady Sui, followed by the sisters in order of age.

The Old Lady Xie, still mindful of the incident where Xie Yue had offended the Fifth Princess, brought it up apologetically.

Consort Wan waved it off. “Children will be children. A little quarreling only shows how close they are.”

Lady Luo seized the opportunity. “Exactly. Yue’er is a sincere child, utterly devoted to Her Highness. If her words were ever improper, we beg the Fifth Princess’s magnanimous forgiveness.”

Consort Wan glanced at her briefly before looking away, her expression unreadable.

Before entering the palace, she had been on good terms with Tao Shi and knew her temperament well. Later, after Tao Shi divorced Xie Zhen and the scandal of Xie Zhen’s affair with Luo Shi—resulting in a child out of wedlock—brought shame upon the Duke of Heng’s residence, she had always looked down on Luo Shi, who had usurped another’s place. It was only out of consideration for Xie Yue being her brother’s child that she treated her with any kindness.

Luo Shi naturally noticed the Noble Consort’s cold gaze and felt somewhat awkward. She nudged Xie Yue and said, “Hurry and apologize to Her Highness the Princess.”

Xie Yue had no choice but to step forward. Presumably, Old Lady Xie had already instructed her, for this time she was quite docile, delivering her apology with utmost sincerity—almost to the point of kowtowing to Fifth Princess.

However, Fifth Princess was accustomed to arrogance. While she might restrain her emotions in the palace, she had no such reservations when dealing with Xie Yue.

Disdain was disdain. No matter how much Xie Yue pleaded, Fifth Princess simply refused to play with her. After perfunctorily humming in response, she called Xie Xuan over instead. “Cousin Xuan, did you find that thing you mentioned last time?”

Xie Xuan smiled. “I did. Here.” She took a small porcelain box from the brocade pouch at her waist and handed it over.

Fifth Princess eagerly opened the box to examine its contents, while Xie Yue could only retreat to her seat in defeat.

Such obvious favoritism did not escape the notice of those present, and each had their own thoughts about it. Old Lady Xie had not entered the palace much since the incident of Prince Jin being trampled, and having been separated from her daughter for so long, she naturally had much to discuss. Once the conversation turned to family matters, the atmosphere warmed again.

Before long, a palace maid escorted Noble Consort Yu over. Behind her followed Prince Jin, who had fully recovered from his injuries.

On this day, all women of rank were dressed in formal attire. When the hem of Noble Consort Yu’s honey-colored phoenix-embroidered robe swept into view, everyone present immediately recognized her status. Noble Consort Wan led the greetings, while Old Lady Xie and the other women performed the proper courtesies.

Noble Consort Yu’s gentle smile was like a spring breeze. “I happened to be passing by. I hope I’m not disturbing you and the Dowager, Sister?”

“Not at all, you’re too kind,” Noble Consort Wan quickly replied, inviting Noble Consort Yu to take a seat.

Noble Consort Yu sat beside Noble Consort Wan and said warmly, “I’ve always envied you two things—your clever and adorable Fifth Princess, and the Dowager. I’ve long heard that the daughters of the Duke of Heng’s residence are exceptional. Having met Sixth Miss the other day and seeing these young ladies today, it’s clear the reputation is well-deserved.”

—Her own maternal family had long declined, and they had since relocated to the northern frontier. Even during festivals, they could not gather as a family, so her envy was genuine.

Noble Consort Wan naturally avoided touching on such a sensitive topic and instead laughed. “If Sister likes Fifth Princess so much, why not take her under your wing? She’s always pestering me—it’s giving me a headache. Unlike Weiliang, who is both gentle and talented. That’s what I truly envy.”

Prince Jin, standing behind Noble Consort Yu, smiled modestly. “You flatter me, Noble Consort Wan.” As he lowered his gaze, his eyes briefly lingered on Xie Xuan.

Xie Xuan happened to be sipping her tea at that moment and didn’t notice his glance. Listening to the two noblewomen exchange pleasantries, she naturally remained silent. As she sat there, she felt Xie Jun subtly pinch her hand. Puzzled, she looked over and saw Xie Jun subtly gesturing toward Xie Yue across the room.

Xie Yue’s face was full of resentment, as if Xie Xuan had stolen something from her. She glared, and when her eyes met Xie Xuan’s, she even let out a disdainful huff. Petite in stature, she was partially hidden behind Lady Sui, so her behavior went unnoticed by most—except for Xie Jun, who covered a smile with her hand and whispered into Xie Xuan’s ear, “Has she met Prince Jin before?”

“Last time I entered the palace to accompany Fifth Princess, we visited His Highness Prince Jin,” Xie Xuan replied quietly.

Xie Jun was about to say more when Noble Consort Yu shifted the topic to Xie Xuan.

“…Just now, Weiliang mentioned that the print society recently acquired a collection of exquisite paintings. Knowing Sixth Miss has a refined taste in art, he wished to invite her to appreciate them together. Speaking of which, the remedy Sixth Miss sent last time was quite effective. Weiliang hasn’t had the chance to express his gratitude, so this is a perfect opportunity to return the kindness.”

Noble Consort Wan, sharp as ever, had already noticed Noble Consort Yu’s interest in Xie Xuan during their previous encounters and was more than happy to oblige.

—In the capital’s marriage market, nearly every young lady of noble birth aspired to join the imperial family. Since Xie Xuan was fortunate enough to have caught the attention of Prince Jin and Noble Consort Yu, she ought to seize the opportunity. As for the dangers of the imperial court—where in the world of power and influence was truly safe?

Only those who weathered great storms and survived grave perils were worthy of greater blessings. This was a belief Noble Consort Wan had always held.

Her gaze fell on Xie Xuan. The ten-year-old girl was strikingly beautiful, dressed in a Begonia -red top with layers of jade-white skirts embroidered with blossoming crabapple branches—elegant beyond compare. She was already a rare beauty, but paired with her clear, bright eyes and poised yet lively demeanor—neither overly assertive nor excessively meek—she surpassed even Tao Qingqing in her youth. No wonder she had caught the eyes of this mother and son.

“Since Weiliang has extended the invitation so sincerely,” Noble Consort Wan said, turning to Old Lady Xie, “shall we let Xuanxuan accompany him?”

Old Lady Xie was practically dizzy from this stroke of heavenly luck. She immediately agreed, “For His Highness Prince Jin to invite her is an honor Xuanxuan could never refuse. Of course she should go, of course! Sixth Child, stand up and give your thanks!”

Xie Xuan stared in stunned silence at this sudden “blessing.” Seeing Xie Jun urgently signaling her with her eyes, she had no choice but to rise and curtsy. “Many thanks to Her Highness the Noble Consort, many thanks to His Highness Prince Jin.”

—She would have preferred to decline, but under the watchful eyes of everyone present, she couldn’t possibly find an excuse. Claiming illness? Old Lady Xie would tear her to shreds upon their return!

Following Prince Jin out of the pavilion, she found the midday sun warm and bright.

Xie Xuan was accompanied only by Fangzhou, while Prince Jin had a young eunuch in tow. As the two walked ahead, their attendants followed a few steps behind.

Prince Jin remained as gentle and composed as ever, as if the incident of being trampled during the hunt had left no mark on him. Though Xie Xuan wasn’t keen on growing closer to him, she couldn’t afford to embarrass the Duke of Heng’s residence or Noble Consort Wan by acting foolishly. Thus, she asked politely, “Has Your Highness fully recovered?”

“Completely,” Prince Jin replied, glancing at her with a faint smile. “Sixth Miss seems reluctant to accompany me?”

Xie Xuan very much wanted to say, “Yes,” but she lacked the audacity. Unwilling to resort to empty flattery, she chose her words carefully. “Your Highness’s kindness is more than this common girl deserves.”

“You do deserve it,” Prince Jin said softly, studying her for a moment. “Are you afraid?”

Xie Xuan said nothing, which was answer enough.

Well aware of the precariousness of his own position, Prince Jin simply smiled. “A trip to the print society is harmless. Last time, when you answered with ‘The old man misses his shepherd boy, leaning on his staff by the thorn gate,’ I recounted it to Mother. She was quite impressed, saying that for a young lady of noble birth, you possess a rare tranquility of mind—completely unlike others.”

As he spoke, he noticed a Black-Clad Guard bowing in the distance. The man looked somewhat familiar, but Prince Jin couldn’t recall his name. Pausing in surprise, he frowned slightly.

Xie Xuan followed his gaze—and was startled to see Han Jie!