Held in the Lonely Castle Chapter 22

 

 Held in the Lonely Castle  

 Chapter 22

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

   Flying White

After the princess became engaged, during every festival, in addition to the customary palace rewards, Lady Miao and the Li family would exchange gifts. At the end of the seventh year of the Qingli era, as I grew older and was a close attendant to the princess, Lady Miao assigned me the task of delivering New Year's gifts to the family of the imperial son-in-law.

Although we had met once before, Imperial Son-in-Law Li Wei showed no particular reaction upon seeing me, remaining as silent as ever. The imperial uncle was unwell and resting inside, but his wife, Lady Yang, was very warm. She invited me to sit, had tea served, and sat across from me, asking many questions. After staring at me for a long while, she suddenly laughed and said, "Eunuch Liang is quite the talent. If no one mentioned it, who could tell you're a eunuch?"

I was both amused and exasperated, but could only take it as a compliment. After staying briefly, I stood to leave and hurried out of the Li residence.

Seeing that it was still early, I followed the address I had previously obtained for Cui Bai and went to find him. I hadn’t expected to actually meet him, only intending to note the location of his home for future visits. But just as I reached his door, it suddenly opened from within, and a man strode out—wide sleeves, a scarf tied around his head—it was Cui Bai.

Our unexpected meeting brought great joy to both of us. He quickly invited me inside, and after exchanging pleasantries, he took out his recent paintings, spreading them out one by one for me to see. "These past few years, I’ve immersed myself in landscapes and gained some insights. If I hadn’t run out of travel funds, I wouldn’t have returned home so soon," he said.

Thinking of Qiuhe, I worried Cui Bai might already have a family, so I probed, "Brother Zixi, during your travels, did your wife stay at home or accompany you?"

Cui Bai laughed heartily, "What wife? The only companion I have is a 'bamboo wife'!"

I lowered my head and smiled. A "bamboo wife" was a summer bed accessory, woven from bamboo strips or made from a whole section of bamboo, usually cylindrical, used to hug for cooling during sleep. By saying this, Cui Bai was indicating he was still unmarried.

"I’ve long wanted to travel the world, spending years on the road, and only recently returned, so I’ve yet to marry," Cui Bai explained.

I pressed further, asking if he had any betrothal agreements. He said no, so I set my mind at ease and brought up Qiuhe, asking if his gift of the Autumn Lotus and Guests painting to her had been a gesture of affection.

Cui Bai admitted frankly, "When I gave her that painting, it was indeed to express my admiration. But upon reflection, I realized it was rather rash. I’m just a commoner, without high rank or a prestigious family background, and she’s deep within the palace. I dared not hope for a bond in this life—only that she wouldn’t find my gesture presumptuous and would keep the painting by her side. For me, that would be enough."

I detailed how Qiuhe had won the favor of the emperor and empress and had received a promise from His Majesty. I then asked Cui Bai if he would consider marrying her. Cui Bai was pleasantly surprised. "If Miss Dong does not disdain my lack of rank and my humble home, once she leaves the palace, I will surely arrange the proper ceremonies to welcome her as my wife."

I smiled and said Qiuhe wouldn’t care about such external things. Cui Bai grew even happier, fetched brush and ink, and immediately wrote a draft marriage proposal, listing three generations of his family’s names and his own birth details, entrusting me to deliver it to Qiuhe.

Back in the palace, I quickly found Qiuhe and relayed Cui Bai’s response, handing her the proposal. Qiuhe smiled joyfully, repeatedly thanking me, but then suddenly worried, "But if I abruptly tell His Majesty I wish to leave the palace, will he agree?"

After some thought, I suggested she first speak to the empress. "You’ve served by her side for so long, and she likes you. She’ll surely consider your wishes. Discuss it with her and ask her to speak to His Majesty."

Qiuhe followed my advice. Two days later, she came to me, her steps light and her expression radiant—clearly, things had gone well.

"I tentatively mentioned to the empress that I wanted to leave the palace," she told me, blushing. "She was surprised, asking if I was too young or if something had happened at home to make me rush back. I said no, and then she guessed immediately, dismissing everyone before asking if I had... someone I fancied..."

"You admitted it?" I asked. Had I not seen her in such high spirits, I would have worried about the consequences. Without waiting for her answer, I could guess—she was never one to lie and would eventually confess.

Qiuhe whispered, "I just bowed my head, embarrassed enough to wish I could vanish into the ground. The empress comforted me, saying it was fine and to tell her everything so she could help. So I haltingly explained, and it turned out she knew of Cui Bai. She laughed upon hearing his name, saying, 'That man does have talent and would suit you well.'"

Still somewhat uneasy, I asked, "Did the empress say anything more about your past interactions with Zixi?"

Qiuhe shook her head. "She fell silent for a long while, lost in thought. When she looked at me again, she was smiling and said, 'The rarest thing in this world is mutual affection without reservations. You’re a good child, and I will help you.'"

Hearing this, I sighed in relief for her. "So she agreed to let you leave the palace?"

"She agreed, but not immediately," Qiuhe said. "The empress explained that since I haven’t reached the usual age for palace maids to leave, and with no major family matters, releasing me alone now would break precedent and invite gossip. It would be better to wait until next year’s Qianyuan Festival. His Majesty had already planned to release another group of palace maids then, and she would speak to him beforehand, reminding him of his promise and asking to include my name on the list."

The Qianyuan Festival, the emperor’s birthday on the 14th day of the fourth month, was only five months away. After waiting years, a few more months shouldn’t be an issue. I congratulated Qiuhe, feeling as if her marriage was settled and a weight had been lifted from my heart. Now, all that remained was to deliver the joyous news to Cui Bai during the Lantern Festival gift delivery to the imperial son-in-law’s family.

"Huai Ji, what’s the world outside the palace like?" Qiuhe suddenly asked me with a smile. "I entered the palace at four and have never seen the markets or streets of the Eastern Capital, except for glimpses of red walls and green trees from behind the curtains of palace carriages on the way to gardens."

I wasn’t sure how to answer and didn’t want to tell her that my trips outside the palace felt like sleepwalking. The scenes of bustling markets and worldly splendor were like a long scroll painting—I saw them, but my soul seemed detached, as if I could never truly be part of it.

"You’ll see for yourself when you leave," I finally replied. "With Zixi by your side, you can go wherever you wish."

On the 15th day of the first lunar month, the Lantern Festival, the Eastern Capital was always especially lively at night. Emperor Taizong had decreed that lanterns be lit for five nights around the festival, but now the lantern displays lasted far longer. From the start of the new year, the lantern market outside Donghua Gate was already bustling, with hundreds of types of lanterns on display.

The most spectacular displays were in front of Xuande Tower, where large mountain-shaped lanterns were erected, depicting scenes of immortals. Puppets shaped like deities and mythical beasts could spray water from their fingers and move their arms. When lit, the lanterns shimmered with gold and jade, their brilliance interweaving like brocade. On the city gates, grass bundles were tied into dragon shapes, covered with blue curtains and filled with countless candles. When lit, the undulating lights resembled twin dragons in flight. Countless other giant dragon lanterns and floral displays dazzled the eyes, drawing crowds of spectators.

On the night of the festival, His Majesty led the palace consorts to Xuande Tower to view the lanterns. The palace was adorned with phoenix and dragon lanterns, resplendent as a painting, mirroring the grandeur outside.

The eighth year of the Qingli era was a leap year with an intercalary first month. His Majesty had so enjoyed the lanterns that he wished to recreate the spectacle on the 15th day of the intercalary month. During a banquet at the start of the month, he mentioned this to the palace ladies.

Consort Zhang was the first to cheer, and the others agreed, even the princess clapping her hands and exclaiming, "Wonderful! I didn’t get enough of last month’s lanterns!"

But the empress rose solemnly and bowed to His Majesty. "The Lantern Festival is meant to be celebrated once a year. Holding it twice is unnecessary, and each display incurs great expense. To repeat it would be extravagance. Your Majesty often admonishes us to avoid waste. If word of this spreads beyond the palace, others may follow suit, squandering resources and harming the people. This would contradict Your Majesty’s sage intentions. Thus, I dare to ask Your Majesty to reconsider."

His Majesty’s smile froze, his expression stiffening. After a long silence, he smiled again, helping the empress up. "Thank you for your forthright advice. My idea was ill-considered. The lanterns need not be displayed again."

On the 15th day of the intercalary month, the palace indeed held no special celebrations. His Majesty only summoned the empress, princess, and a few favored consorts to Funing Hall to admire the "Feibai" calligraphy of Li Tangqing.

Feibai, one of the eight major calligraphic styles, originated with Cai Yong, was perfected by Wang Xizhi and his son, and flourished under Xiao Ziyun. It became highly popular in our dynasty. The strokes are flat with white streaks, as if the brush’s hairs left gaps, giving a flying effect. Creating Feibai requires precise control—too sparse or thick gaps are unacceptable, and the dots are the most challenging.

His Majesty had little interest in archery or polo but was devoted to calligraphy, excelling at Feibai. Seeing Li Tangqing’s Feibai works, all featuring dotted characters with three hundred unique dots, His Majesty nodded approvingly and asked the princess, "Huirou, what do you think of this calligraphy?"

The princess marveled, "I had no idea Feibai dots could have so many variations! Feibai uses dots to depict forms—with these three hundred dots, he’s exhausted all possible imagery, hasn’t he?"

His Majesty smiled silently, then called for brush and ink. He wrote the character "qing" (清) in Feibai, vigorous and unadorned, with three dots surpassing even Li Tangqing’s three hundred. The onlookers gasped in admiration.

After writing, His Majesty didn’t set the brush down but extended it toward the empress, his eyes inviting.

The empress accepted cheerfully, dipped the brush in ink, and added the character "jing" (净) after "qing," her strokes graceful yet powerful, with two entirely different dots.

The crowd praised them in unison, but His Majesty remained silent. Smiling, he stepped behind the empress, leaned down slightly, and placed his right hand over hers, guiding her wrist. Their cheeks brushed lightly, and before anyone realized, a new dot appeared between the two dots of "jing."

This dot seemed to spiral midair, surpassing the previous five.

His Majesty didn’t release her hand immediately but continued holding it, gazing at her tenderly. The empress turned to meet his eyes, and the two shared a knowing smile.

The way His Majesty looked at the empress then was something I’d never seen before. In my memory, he had never looked at Lady Miao or the other consorts that way. "Tenderness" hardly captured it—his gaze was clear, his eyes transparent, as if seeing into her soul. Their smiles were so perfectly synchronized, as if no words were needed to convey their understanding.

Recalling the princess’s nighttime tales about the empress, I couldn’t help but think that perhaps the empress wasn’t as "destitute" as she seemed.

But then I remembered His Majesty’s earlier acceptance of Lady Fan and his retort to Lady Miao: "Must all imperial relatives be surnamed Cao?" I grew confused again, unsure of his true feelings toward the empress.

The empress had never enjoyed overwhelming favor—it was no secret that His Majesty hadn’t initially wanted to make her empress.

His first empress, Lady Guo, had been chosen by Empress Dowager Zhangxian, and His Majesty had never cared for her. At the time, he favored another beauty, Lady Zhang. After Lady Zhang’s death, he doted on Ladies Shang and Yang. Resentful, Empress Guo repeatedly clashed with them. Once, Lady Shang spoke disrespectfully to the empress in His Majesty’s presence. Enraged, Empress Guo tried to slap her, but His Majesty intervened, and the empress accidentally struck his neck instead. With Empress Dowager Zhangxian gone, His Majesty no longer held back. Furious, he deposed Empress Guo, granting her the title of Pure Consort and Jade Capital Transcendent Master, with the monastic name Qingwu, and sent her out of the palace.

The courtiers opposed His Majesty choosing a new empress from among his consorts, arguing that elevating a concubine would invert the proper order. Soon after the deposition, His Majesty ordered the selection of Cao Bin’s granddaughter to enter the palace but didn’t immediately make her empress. At the time, His Majesty favored a stunning beauty, the daughter of a tea merchant from Shouzhou surnamed Chen. But the ministers protested vehemently, refusing to allow "a lowly woman to occupy the central palace."

Chen’s father held the title of "Zicheng," originally a minor official rank for guards. The eunuch Yan Shiliang asked His Majesty if he knew what "Zicheng" meant. When His Majesty admitted he didn’t, Yan explained, "Zicheng is a title for servants in noble households. If Your Majesty makes a servant’s daughter empress, how will you face the ministers?" His Majesty saw the light and sent Chen away, ultimately selecting Lady Cao, a woman from an eminent family, as empress.

"The empress only began practicing Feibai after entering the palace," Lady Miao later told me. "Whenever she had the chance to watch His Majesty write, she’d observe intently, then practice tirelessly in her chambers. One day, His Majesty passed her quarters and saw her practicing Feibai, her strokes free and charming. Intrigued, he guided her hand. A few days later, he decreed her empress."

The emperor and empress’s affection was born from Feibai. To His Majesty, the empress’s most moving moments were when she wielded the brush.

For the next three days, His Majesty kept the empress by his side in Funing Hall.

Hearing this, I felt inexplicably happy.

His Majesty had accepted the empress’s advice and grown closer to her. When the time came for her to speak to him about Qiuhe leaving the palace, he surely wouldn’t refuse.

Before the Lantern Festival, I had already relayed the empress’s response to Cui Bai. Everything seemed to be progressing perfectly toward the desired outcome.

But for some reason, as I thought this, my heart suddenly skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

(To be continued)