Chapter Thirty-Nine: Imprints

The mark "Orchids Bloom in a Secluded Valley" falls on the plain white Xuan paper, bright red and eye-catching, like a cluster of flames burning in the snow.

Su Moqing gazed at the small chicken-blood stone seal, her fingertips gently tracing the raised and recessed characters. Her fingertips seemed to feel the force with which Shen Rulan carved the seal—every stroke was imbued with composure, every cut with concern, carving the four characters "Lan Sheng You Gu" into the stone and into her heart.

"This seal is quite unique, young lady." A cool female voice suddenly came from the doorway of the studio, carrying a hint of lazy laughter, interrupting Su Moqing's thoughts. She looked up and saw the Imperial Concubine standing slowly at the doorway, dressed in a moon-white dress embroidered with dark dragon patterns, with a mink cloak over it. Her gaze was fixed on the newly stamped seal on the painting, her eyes deep and unfathomable.

Su Moqing's heart tightened, and the hand holding the seal tightened slightly. She hurriedly stood up to curtsy, but was gently stopped by the Imperial Concubine: "No need for formalities. I was just passing by and saw that the light was on in your studio, so I came in to take a look."

The Imperial Concubine approached slowly, her robes brushing against the blue bricks of the ground with a soft sound. She stopped before the painting table, her gaze falling on the seal that read "Orchids Grow in Secluded Valleys." She slowly read the inscription, a faint smile playing on her lips: "'Orchids grow in secluded valleys, their fragrance undiminished by solitude,' a beautiful sentiment. But I remember that though orchids grow in secluded valleys, they still need to seek sunlight. If they are always hidden in the valley, never seeing wind or rain, never basking in the warm sun, wouldn't that be a waste of their refined elegance?"

These words, seemingly commenting on the seal, were actually a series of subtle hints to Su Moqing.

Su Moqing lowered her head, her fingertips clutching the hem of her clothes, and respectfully replied, "Your Majesty is right. This humble woman is ignorant and only understands the literal meaning of the seal. I never thought of such a profound principle. Thank you for your guidance, Your Majesty."

The imperial concubine chuckled softly, her gaze sweeping over the newly completed "Camellia Painting" on the painting table—the camellias in the painting were in full bloom, the ink tones were just right, and a few drops of "dew" still clung to the petals, rendered with light ink dots, making them lifelike. "Your painting skills have become more and more refined. The freshness of these camellias is as if they were just picked from the garden."

She changed the subject, her fingertip lightly touching the bright red mark, the nail polish on her nails complementing the mark's color. "It's just that while the inscription is beautiful, it's too aloof, lacking a touch of human warmth. I'll have the Imperial Household Department's engravers carve a new one for you sometime, using a fine piece of Tianhuang stone, and carving some auspicious patterns to make your painting more festive."

These words sounded gentle, even somewhat considerate, yet they sent a chill down Su Moqing's spine. How could she not understand that the Imperial Concubine was reminding her—even with the noble spirit of "orchids growing in secluded valleys," she shouldn't flaunt her connection with Shen Rulan too much in the deep palace; the so-called "auspicious patterns" were merely a way for her to conceal her brilliance, abide by palace rules, and avoid revealing any flaws.

"Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness." Su Moqing bowed and replied, her tone respectful yet flustered. "It is my blessing to be remembered by Your Highness."

The Imperial Concubine nodded in satisfaction, her gaze sweeping around the studio before finally settling on the neatly trimmed asparagus fern on the windowsill—a plant Su Moqing had brought from Yangzhou, which she had carefully tended to every day, its leaves still lush and green.

She suddenly said, seemingly unintentionally, "By the way, after the Winter Solstice Banquet, the Emperor was very satisfied with the Shen family's work and praised Shen Rulan for her efficient handling of the affairs, saying she was a capable person. I heard from the Imperial Household Department today that Shen Rulan will soon be setting off back to Yangzhou, as the salt administration in Jiangnan is waiting for her to return and manage it."

Su Moqing's hand holding the paintbrush trembled violently, and ink dripped from the tip onto the rice paper, spreading into a small, dark stain that just happened to cover a camellia petal. Her heart skipped a beat, as if she had been hit hard by something—Shen Rulan was leaving? She was going back to Yangzhou? And she, she would have to stay in this red-walled cage, not knowing when she would see the light of day again.

The Imperial Concubine took in her lapse in composure but did not point it out. She simply said, "It's getting late. You should rest early too. You still have to paint for Consort Qing tomorrow." With that, she turned and left the studio with her personal maid.

The studio door closed gently, and Su Moqing slowly slumped into a chair, her heart churning with turmoil. Outside the window, the north wind howled, whipping up snow that lashed against the windowpanes, making a mournful sound as if lamenting parting and reluctance.

She took out the bloodstone seal from her sleeve and examined it repeatedly under the lamp. The four characters "Lan Sheng You Gu" on the seal now seemed to carry a touch of desolation—this was Shen Rulan's promise to her, a promise to wait for her to return, but now she had to leave first; this was also a reflection of their current situation, one trapped in the deep palace, the other about to return to Jiangnan, like an orchid growing in a secluded valley, blocked and isolated by many obstacles.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly heard three very soft "tap, tap, tap" sounds coming from the window lattice—this was the secret signal she and Lin Xiao had agreed upon.

Su Moqing instantly snapped out of her daze, got up and quickly walked to the window, carefully pushing it open a crack.

A cold wind, mixed with snowflakes, rushed in, and she shivered. Then she saw a dark figure fall silently into the room like a snowflake—it was Lin Xiao.

“Miss Su, time is of the essence, so let’s get straight to the point.” Lin Xiao lowered his voice, took out a flat wooden box from his robes, and handed it to her. “Young Master will be setting off back to Yangzhou early the day after tomorrow, and I have entrusted the affairs of the capital to him. As for Granny Jin, we have found evidence that she has been accepting bribes from outside the palace. We can temporarily restrain her and prevent her from causing you any more trouble. However, she has been operating in the palace for many years and has many followers, so you still need to be careful and not be careless.”

Su Moqing took the wooden box, which was slightly cool to the touch. She quickly opened it and found a carefully bound painting manual inside. The cover was inscribed with the four characters "Pingshantang Landscape Painting" in regular script, which was Shen Rulan's handwriting.

She opened the painting manual and carefully examined each page. It was filled with paintings of the scenery of Pingshan Hall in Yangzhou—peach blossoms in spring, lotus ponds in summer, ginkgo trees in autumn, and plum blossoms in winter. Every scene was depicted with meticulous detail. Even the branches of the century-old ginkgo tree in front of the hall were exactly the same as she remembered. It was as if the entire Pingshan Hall had been brought to life on the paper.

The last page of the painting manual contained no paintings, only a line of small, elegant writing in the corner:

"When you return, the ginkgo leaves will still be yellow."

Those eight short words brought tears to Su Moqing's eyes, and she could no longer hold back her tears. She hugged the painting manual tightly, as if she were hugging Shen Rulan's promise and concern, and the loss and unease in her heart were gradually replaced by warmth.

"Tell Rulan that I will take care of myself and act cautiously in the palace, and wait for her to take me back." Su Moqing's voice choked with emotion, but it was firm. "Also, please ask her to be careful in everything. The journey to Jiangnan is long, so please be sure to pay attention to safety. I will be extra vigilant with Granny Jin. If anything changes, I will definitely find a way to contact you."

Lin Xiao nodded, a hint of emotion in his eyes: "Don't worry, I will definitely pass on the message. It's getting late, so I'll take my leave to avoid arousing suspicion." With that, he leaped out of the window silently, just as he had come, and quickly disappeared into the vast night.

Su Moqing closed the windows and lit all the lights and candles in the studio.

The bright lights dispelled the chill in the room and also dispelled the gloom in her heart.

She spread out a new sheet of Xuan paper, ground the ink, picked up the Huzhou brush bestowed upon her by the imperial concubine, and began to paint a new picture—"Bamboo Forest Under the Moon".

The brush tip danced across the rice paper, and soon, a serene bamboo grove appeared on the paper.

Moonlight filters through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The swaying bamboo shadows create a scene reminiscent of a fairyland.

She painted with exceptional care, meticulously depicting the texture of every bamboo leaf and the uprightness of every bamboo stalk.

When she was fully engrossed in painting, she took out the bloodstone seal and gently stamped the four characters "Lan Sheng You Gu" (meaning "Orchids Bloom in a Secluded Valley") deep in the bamboo forest. Then she took out a small cinnabar seal—an old seal she used when she first started learning to paint, with a blurry character "Chen" (meaning "sinking") engraved on its surface. She dipped it in very light cinnabar and gently stamped it next to "Lan Sheng You Gu".

This was her response, the secret she hid in the painting—even in the deep, secluded palace, her heart always belonged to someone, always longing for the person named Shen Rulan.

Two days later, at dawn, Shen Rulan's convoy drove out of the capital.

The carriage crunched through the snow, its tracks quickly covered by the falling snow.

When they reached Shilipo on the outskirts of Beijing, Shen Rulan suddenly stopped the carriage.

"Young Master, what's wrong?" Shen Fu lifted the sedan curtain and asked in confusion.

Shen Rulan did not answer, but simply pushed open the carriage door and stepped down.

On a distant hill, a lone pine tree stood tall in the wind and snow, its branches strong and unyielding. Gazing at the pine, she recalled the secret letter Lin Xiao had sent before she left the capital—Su Moqing's painting, "Bamboo Grove Under the Moon," had been delivered to the Imperial Concubine as planned. The Imperial Concubine had read it but said nothing, neither praising nor questioning it; she simply had the painting stored in her treasure vault.

Shen Rulan's lips curled up slightly. She understood that the Imperial Concubine's silence often meant tacit approval. She didn't pursue the blurry "Shen" seal in the painting, nor did she question Su Moqing's ulterior motives; this was already the best outcome.

"Young Master, it's freezing cold, we should set off. If we delay any longer, we might miss our lodging for the night," Shen Fu reminded him softly, handing him a thick cloak.

Shen Rulan took the cloak, draped it over her shoulders, and took one last look in the direction of the capital—the towering red walls of the imperial city were now shrouded in morning mist, the majestic outline of the palaces faintly visible. She took a deep breath, turned and boarded the carriage, her voice calm yet firm: "Let's go, back to Yangzhou."

The carriage started again, grinding through the snow, and slowly headed south.

The wheels rolled on, carrying her longing and yearning, heading towards that familiar water town in Jiangnan.

Meanwhile, deep within the palace, Su Moqing stood by the window of Changchun Palace, gazing at the same sky.

After a night of wind and snow, the sky finally cleared, and a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, shining on the still unmelted snow and reflecting a dazzling light, turning the entire Forbidden City into gold.

Holding the painting manual "Pingshantang Landscape" in her hands, her fingertips gently brushed against the golden ginkgo leaves in the paintings, as if she could feel the warmth of autumn in Yangzhou. The last page of the manual, "When you return, the ginkgo leaves will still be yellow," echoed in her heart like a vow.

"When you return, the ginkgo leaves will still be yellow." Su Moqing repeated these words softly, her eyes full of anticipation. She knew that the cold winter would eventually pass, and the spring breeze would always turn the Jiangnan region green. She and Shen Rulan would eventually reunite on that familiar land, admire the ginkgo leaves of Pingshan Hall together, and talk about the longing they had shared in the past.

The sunlight outside the window grew warmer, the snow began to melt, and the dripping water on the blue bricks seemed to herald the approach of spring.

Su Moqing gripped the painting manual tightly, her heart filled with hope—she would wait patiently in this deep palace, carrying Shen Rulan's promise and the seal of "Orchid Growing in a Secluded Valley," waiting for spring to bloom and for the day of their reunion.