Held in the Lonely Castle Chapter 05

 Huirou

Two days later, as instructed by the Empress, I delivered several scrolls of Cui Bai’s paintings to the Ranyi Hall for her review. The Empress was chatting with Zhang Weiji, the chief eunuch of the Inner Bureau. Upon seeing the paintings, she ordered them unrolled and examined them together with Zhang.

The paintings I had selected were diverse in theme, showcasing Cui Bai’s strengths: flowers, bamboo, birds, lotus ponds, ducks, geese, Taoist and Buddhist deities, and landscapes. Zhang Weiji seemed appreciative, his eyes lighting up with admiration. When the Empress asked his opinion, he cautiously replied, “This artist’s work is quite innovative.”

The Empress remained silent for a while, carefully studying each painting before finally settling on Lotus and Egrets. A faint smile touched her lips as she addressed me, “Huai Ji, you were right. Cui Bai excels in sketching from life. Few in the Painting Academy can match his ability to capture the essence of living things.”

I bowed slightly, smiling in acknowledgment. Zhang Weiji, noticing the Empress’s prolonged attention to the painting, stepped closer to examine it further, curious about its merits.

The Empress turned to him. “What do you think of this one?”

The painting depicted two egrets in a lotus pond—one swimming from right to left, chasing a red shrimp, while the other descended from the sky, its neck curved and legs stretched back in mid-flight.

Zhang Weiji studied it intently before replying, “The egrets are vividly lifelike, their feathers so delicately rendered they seem tangible... truly a rare masterpiece.”

“There’s more,” the Empress said, pointing to the neck of the flying egret. “When egrets fly, they curve their necks tightly, almost forming a pouch-like shape. I’ve seen others paint egrets in flight, often mistakenly giving them the posture of cranes, with necks and legs stretched straight. But Cui Bai captured it perfectly—proof of his meticulous observation.”

Zhang Weiji and I both leaned in to look. Indeed, the egret’s neck was tightly curved, almost pouch-like. We couldn’t help but marvel.

Zhang Weiji immediately praised, “Your Majesty’s discernment is divine. Cui Bai is fortunate indeed to earn Your Majesty’s favor!”

Yet the Empress shook her head with a sigh. “But with such talent and temperament, keeping him confined in the Painting Academy would only stifle him... Some people are simply not meant for the imperial court.”

“Store these paintings properly in the imperial archives,” she instructed me. “As for Cui Bai, I will instruct the supervisors to grant his request to leave.”

Her praise for Cui Bai had briefly led me to believe she might keep him, so her abrupt decision surprised me. But upon reflection, I had to admit it was the best outcome for both Cui Bai and the academy. I admired her wisdom.

As the palace attendants began rolling up the scrolls, a commotion erupted outside the hall. A woman’s voice, tearful and indignant, cried out, “Empress, if you refuse to punish those who harmed my daughter, then at least let me see His Majesty!”

Zhang Weiji frowned and moved to intervene, but the Empress stopped him, ordering the woman to be admitted.

A disheveled woman rushed in, her hair loose and her face streaked with tears. She knelt before the Empress, clutching a child in her arms. “Youwon is so ill! How can you deny me an audience with His Majesty?”

Her eyes were swollen from crying, her face haggard, but her beauty was still evident. The child in her arms, about three or four years old, lay listless, her cheeks flushed with fever.

The Empress spoke gently. “I have already ordered the imperial physicians to attend to Youwon. You shouldn’t have brought her out—she might catch a chill. His Majesty needs rest and has decreed he will not see any consorts these days.”

The woman—Consort Zhang—shook her head vehemently. “You know as well as I do that this child’s illness is the result of a curse! The physicians can treat the symptoms, but only punishment of the culprit will cure her. I dare not trouble you with such trifles, but why won’t you even let me see His Majesty?”

I had heard that Consort Zhang was the Emperor’s current favorite. Her arrogance was evident, yet the Empress remained unruffled. “You overthink things. The weather has been erratic—Youwon merely caught a chill. A few doses of medicine will suffice. This has nothing to do with anyone else.”

“Nothing to do with anyone?” Consort Zhang scoffed, tossing an object onto the floor. “This was found beneath a rock in the rear garden yesterday. I reported it to you, yet you still deny any connection?”

It was a cloth doll, its body inscribed with characters, needles piercing its head and chest—a clear instance of forbidden witchcraft. The palace attendants gasped in horror.

The Empress glanced at the doll but remained composed. Consort Zhang pressed on, “Two nights ago, palace maid Feng witnessed Huirou praying by the lake in the rear garden. And what a coincidence—this doll was found beneath a rock by the lake the very next day! Feng reported it to you. Why did you ignore it? Just now, I questioned Huirou myself, and she admitted to being in the rear garden that night!”

Huirou? The name startled me more than the cursed doll. Piecing together Consort Zhang’s words, I realized she was accusing Huirou—the girl I had seen praying under the moon—of practicing witchcraft to curse her daughter, Youwon.

I hesitated, unsure if someone of my lowly station should intervene. But the memory of the girl’s frail figure and tearful plea stirred an unexpected courage in me. I stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty, may I ask Consort Zhang a question?”

My sudden interjection surprised everyone, but the Empress nodded permission.

Turning to Consort Zhang, I bowed again. “May I ask, is the girl you refer to named Huirou?”

Before Consort Zhang could reply, Zhang Weiji snapped, “How dare you—”

The Empress raised a hand to silence him, allowing me to continue.

Consort Zhang eyed me coldly, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “Yes, the girl is called Huirou.”

I pressed, “Did palace maid Feng see her praying by the lake at midnight two nights ago?”

Consort Zhang confirmed it.

I turned back to the Empress. “That night, after delivering the paintings, I lost my way in the inner palace and stumbled upon a barefoot girl in white praying under the moon. She called herself Huirou... I had heard the night watchman’s drum—it was indeed midnight.”

The Empress’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “What did she pray for?”

I recounted the truth: “She said her father was ill and begged heaven to let her bear his pain in his stead.”

A faint smile touched the Empress’s lips. “No curses against others?”

I shook my head firmly. “None. When she noticed someone watching, she left immediately. I saw no doll in her hands—it couldn’t have been her.”

“Lies!” Consort Zhang’s suppressed fury flared anew. “If not her, then who? Who else would resent Youwon stealing His Majesty’s favor?”

Her words jolted me. Slowly, I began to grasp that Huirou’s identity was far more significant than I had imagined.

“You’ve been bribed!” Consort Zhang advanced on me, her finger nearly jabbing my face. Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward the Empress. “Who put you up to this? Huirou? Or someone else?”

Her aggression made me step back, but I held my ground. “I speak only the truth.”

A sharp slap landed on my cheek. The sound echoed as she sneered, “Still the truth?”

I lowered my head, silent. Humiliation and anger were nothing new in palace life. Enduring such treatment was part of our training. I wasn’t the best at swallowing pride—I couldn’t offer the other cheek—but I could at least maintain a blank expression.

“Enough,” the Empress interjected. “Striking a eunuch is beneath you.”

Consort Zhang’s lips twisted in disdain.

The Empress turned to me. “This is Liang Huai Ji of the Outer Bureau. It was his first time in the inner palace—he didn’t even know Huirou is Princess Fukang’s personal name. Who could have bribed him?”

Princess Fukang. The Emperor’s eldest daughter, the most revered woman in the palace after the Empress.

The mystery unraveled. The Empress’s words lifted the girl’s white-clad figure from my memory, sending her soaring beyond reach into the highest clouds.

I dropped to my knees, begging forgiveness for my ignorance.

Consort Zhang’s icy laughter dripped with venom. “What a well-rehearsed performance!”

The Empress dismissed my offense and ordered Zhang Weiji to summon Princess Fukang.

Soon, the jingling of ornaments announced the arrival of two noblewomen. Their elaborate hairstyles and fine silk robes marked them as imperial consorts. They hurriedly paid respects to the Empress before vehemently defending the princess, insisting she could never have committed such an act.

One of them, Consort Miao, the princess’s birth mother, knelt tearfully. “Huirou is too young to understand such dark arts! She adores her little sister—she would never harm her!”

The Empress reassured her and invited the consorts to sit. Consort Zhang reluctantly took a seat, her eyes burning with resentment.

Then Princess Fukang entered.

Her eyes were slightly red, as if she had been crying, but her attire was immaculate, her braids neatly arranged. She moved with quiet dignity, ignoring Consort Zhang entirely as she passed her.

The Empress asked if she had been in the rear garden that night. The princess admitted it.

“What were you doing?”

The princess hesitated, then softly asked, “Is... is Father better?”

The Empress exchanged a glance with Zhang Weiji, who nodded slightly—my testimony aligned with the princess’s words.

The Empress smiled. “You were praying for his recovery, weren’t you?”

The princess blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”

Consort Zhang, unable to contain herself, brandished the doll. “Then how do you explain this? Why was it found right after you were there?”

The princess ignored her.

The Empress gently urged, “If you’re innocent, explain yourself.”

The princess pressed her lips together, silent.

Consort Miao pleaded with her to speak, but the princess remained mute. The hall fell into an awkward silence.

Finally, I broke it.

“Your Majesty, the princess has already answered.” My own voice surprised me—a lowly eunuch daring to intervene twice in an imperial dispute. But having started, I had to continue.

“Long ago, when Empress Zhao accused Lady Ban of witchcraft, Emperor Cheng of Han questioned her. Lady Ban replied, ‘I have heard that life and death are decreed by fate, and wealth and honor rest with Heaven. If good deeds do not earn blessings, what can one hope for from evil? If the spirits are wise, they will not accept wicked prayers; if they are unwise, what use is praying? Thus, I would never do such a thing.’” I paused. “I dare to guess that when the princess said, ‘I wouldn’t do it,’ she meant the same as Lady Ban.”

The princess turned to look at me. Our eyes met briefly—her gaze bright, a faint smile touching her lips. My cheeks warmed, and I quickly lowered my head.

A beat of silence followed. Then Consort Yu chuckled. “What an eloquent young eunuch! He must be right.”

The Empress nodded approvingly. Consort Miao and Zhang Weiji also regarded me kindly. Only Consort Zhang seethed.

“Are you comparing me to Empress Zhao?” she hissed.

I froze. My intention had been to defend the princess, not draw parallels. But there was no explaining it now.

Fortunately, a eunuch’s announcement saved me: “His Majesty is awake and requests Princess Fukang!”

The imperial women rose. The Empress took the princess’s hand. “Come, let’s see your father.” They departed, followed by the consorts. Consort Zhang, clutching her daughter, hurried after them.

The hall emptied. I stood there, dazed, until finally slipping away unnoticed.

(To be continued)

CHAPTER 06