Chapter 40: The Pact at the Fence Garden
The early summer breeze, carrying the fragrance of grass and earth, gently caressed the quietly transforming land on the mountainside of Qingwu. Since her father brought back the imperial decree approving the establishment of a school, Huairou had poured all her enthusiasm and energy into this "academy" that belonged to her. Whenever she had time, she would travel lightly to this garden, which was gradually shedding its desolation and revealing its initial form, to personally supervise the construction, consider the purpose of each building, and ponder the future mission of the academy and the core principles it should uphold.
That day, the setting sun painted the sky a warm orange-red, casting a soft twilight over the garden, which had been bustling all day. The completion of the academy finally gave her a reason to write again, to share this joy with her friends. She invited Jiancheng to visit. Jiancheng finally replied. It turned out that his recovery from his injuries during their separation had indeed taken a long time, and with the pile of official duties, he had to devote all his time to it. He had never imagined that Huairou would miss him. The difficulty of parting was simply his own feeling, and so he remained silent for a while, not replying to letters for some time.
The two strolled along the newly opened path. Huairou, in high spirits and seemingly unaffected, pointed out, "Jiancheng, look, I plan to build a row of workshops over there, where the craftsmen I invite can teach, and the students can also practice their skills. That sunny slope over there is perfect for turning into an experimental field to try out some newly introduced crops. And over there, a few old houses can be slightly renovated and used as lecture halls and student dormitories..."
Zhen Jiancheng listened quietly, his gaze following her direction as it swept across this vibrant land. He saw not only the layout of houses and fields, but also the creator-like gleam in Huairou's eyes. This girl had improved so much in the few days he'd been away. This was completely different from her gentle and quiet demeanor at court banquets and among noble ladies; it was a more real, more vibrant beauty.
After finishing their errands, the two strolled to a slightly elevated hillside. Here, the grass was lush and green, its slender, soft blades swaying in the evening breeze like a natural carpet. They sat down on the ground, and the ospreys hidden among the grass seemed afraid to disturb the tranquility, only occasionally emitting short, soft calls, adding to the rustic charm. A gentle breeze came, and the long, thin blades of grass affectionately brushed against their clothes, as if embracing these creatures that were willing to be close to them, and gently concealing Huairou and Jiancheng's figures within this verdant landscape.
Huairou took out the prepared tea snacks and a pot of warm tea from the bamboo basket she carried with her, poured a cup, and handed it to Jiancheng. The aroma of the tea, mixed with the scent of fresh grass, was refreshing and delightful.
She watched the tea leaves swirling and slowly drifting down in the cup, and suddenly asked softly, "Lord Jiancheng, do you think... the Seventh Prince will be happy?"
Zhen Jiancheng took the teacup, feeling the warmth of the porcelain on his fingertips. He gazed at the last rays of sunlight gradually sinking below the horizon, pondered for a moment, and then spoke slowly, his voice calm and rational: "Royal marriages have always been intertwined with interests, and those involved often find their personal feelings secondary. Yunji's marriage to Yuanya, which resulted in a border alliance, is a prudent choice for both the country and himself. I have had people observe Princess Yuanya; she has a dignified appearance, a pure heart, and is quite fond of Yunji. To have met such a girl, Yunji... is quite fortunate."
His answer was objective and calm, carrying the weighing perspective typical of an emperor. Huairou listened, but couldn't help thinking of her own marriage of over ten years—a marriage of mutual respect, yet always separated by a certain distance. It was as if she wasn't asking Yunji, but rather questioning her own past, murmuring softly, "Hmm... not exactly happy, but fortunate. I fear that when I meet the one I love in the future, we will both be no longer young, things will have changed, and only regret will remain..."
These words were spoken so softly they almost vanished in the wind, yet Zhen Jiancheng heard them clearly. His hand, holding the teacup, paused slightly. He looked down at the tea leaves floating in the cup, remaining silent. The atmosphere became tense for a moment.
Huairou immediately realized she might have misspoke. She had never inquired about Jiancheng Jun's harem affairs before, and her current remarks inevitably sounded like prying. She quickly composed herself, perked up, and tried to break the subtle awkwardness with a lighthearted tone, jokingly saying, "Oh dear, what am I thinking? Someone as outstanding as Jiancheng Jun must have a harem full of virtuous wives and concubines, and intelligent children and grandchildren around him. His life must be as happy as... as lively and complete as a rabbit!" She meant to say that rabbits symbolize peace, prosperity, and tranquility, a beautiful blessing.
Zhen Jiancheng was taken aback at first, then couldn't help but chuckle. As an emperor, dignified and revered, he had never been so openly teased about his "fertility." However, there was not a trace of flattery or frivolity in Huairou's words, only a pure, almost naive goodwill that completely dispelled the strict separation between men and women he usually maintained. Looking at her somewhat embarrassed yet trying-to-remain composed appearance, his smile deepened.
Seeing the hidden meaning in his smile, Huairou belatedly realized that her analogy might easily lead to speculation. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she lowered her head shyly, smiling with her lips pursed.
As the last rays of sunlight faded, the bright moon rose, its gentle light spreading across the mountains and fields. The moonlight, like water, seemed to touch the most delicate strings of the heart. Dewdrops began to condense on the blades of grass, sparkling in the moonlight.
In this quiet yet ambiguous atmosphere, Zhen Jiancheng suddenly raised his head, his gaze sharp, looking directly at Huairou's profile, which appeared exceptionally gentle in the moonlight. His tone was calm yet carried an undeniable seriousness as he asked, "Huairou, what about you? Do you want to marry Lu Binghui?"
The question came too suddenly and directly, catching Huairou off guard. She abruptly looked up and met his deep eyes, feeling as if his gaze could pierce through all pretense and reach straight to her heart. For a moment, she lost the ability to think, her mind going blank. The "Ji Moli" that lay dormant deep within her, representing reason and worldly norms, seemed to leap out and answer for her hastily, her voice tinged with panic: "This matter... isn't that simple... The orders of parents, the words of matchmakers, how could... how could it be something I could decide whether I wanted to or not..."
Zhen Jiancheng looked at her flustered and evasive eyes, and listened to her insincere answer, but a knowing and confident smile curled at the corner of his lips. In his view, such hesitation and excuses were essentially an answer of "I don't want to." He didn't give her time to catch her breath or make up excuses, and immediately threw out a second, even more alarming question: "Then... do you like Yunji?"
"..." Huairou felt a sudden tightness in her heart, her gaze instantly softening. Calmly, she poured Jiancheng a cup of tea. This time, Huairou was remarkably composed. Although her feelings for Yunji were complex—a mixture of familial affection and a mentor-student/friend relationship—there was no romantic love. She smiled and replied, "Seventh Prince, you are exceptionally handsome and refined. As a prince, I consider you...my best friend."
Zhen Jiancheng stared intently at her, at her overly composed face. The surprise in his eyes gradually gave way to a deeper, more complex emotion. The smile was no longer the playful one, but rather a gentle ripple from the depths of his eyes, carrying a hint of helplessness, a touch of pity, and a trace of...understanding tenderness. He looked at her like that, as if trying to etch her current calm and her deeply hidden sincerity into his heart.
He suddenly leaned closer to her, his movements not swift, but with an irresistible firmness. The moonlight outlined his tall figure behind him, and his presence instantly enveloped her. He stopped very close to her, his deep, magnetic voice whispering in her ear like a moonlit murmur, striking straight to her soul:
"Huairou, what exactly do you want?"
His words were like the breaking of an invisible shackle. Huairou did not look away. She stared blankly up at his face so close to hers, at the undisguised affection and searching in his eyes. The high wall in her heart, built by reason, rules, and responsibility, collapsed at that moment, mixed with years of longing and suppressed emotions.
She missed that embrace so much. She missed the understanding and support that transcended the bond between ruler and subject, and friendship; she missed the warmth and peace of mind that allowed her to shed all pretenses and simply be Guo Huairou.
She didn't answer, but simply rested her forehead gently on his shoulder. It was a silent answer, a tacit consent that transcended all boundaries.
Zhen Jiancheng paused slightly, then reached out and gently, yet with unwavering determination, embraced her. Under the moonlight, on the grassy hillside, their two figures blended seamlessly into the tranquil night. The ospreys continued to coo softly in the grass, and the gentle breeze continued to blow, witnessing this genuine expression of love that transcended worldly constraints.
Half a month later, a procession of palace eunuchs arrived at the garden at the foot of Qingwu Mountain, carrying a plaque carved from sandalwood. Huairou led the people in the garden to respectfully receive the imperial decree.
The imperial edict commended Guo Huairou for his beneficial work in education, and bestowed upon him a plaque to commemorate his aspirations. When the eunuch carefully unveiled the red silk, revealing the two powerful, gleaming gold characters on the plaque, Huairou was stunned.
"Liyuan".
It wasn't the name she had envisioned, like "Qingwu Academy" or "Shixueyuan," but rather—"Liyuan."
Upon seeing those two characters, the "Ji Moli," representing reason and the past, seemed to be instantly awakened. She stood there, stunned, a subtle tremor running through her heart. Was it a coincidence? Her name contained the character "Li" (篱), and His Majesty had bestowed upon her a name with the same pronunciation? "Build a garden with a fence, attract wise men from all over the world, cultivate with fertile soil"—this phrase seemed fitting here. Huairou looked at the plaque, and behind it was a short poem. She softly recited it:
"The grass on the plain grows lush and green, withering and flourishing year after year."
Wildfire cannot burn it all; the spring breeze brings it back to life.
The distant fragrance invades the ancient road, and the clear green meets the deserted city.
Again, I see the young nobleman off, my heart heavy with parting sorrow.
After reciting the poem, she seemed lost in thought: This poem describes the tenacious vitality of wild grass, just like this place, once barren, now reborn under the spring breeze. "Fragrance spreads along the ancient road, verdant green reaches the desolate city," doesn't this perfectly reflect our hope that the academy's influence will gradually expand, innovate, and benefit all? "Again, we see off a young nobleman, the lush grass filled with parting sorrow," perhaps also implicitly expresses our reluctance and expectations as teachers for future students who, after completing their studies here, will go on to roam the world?
The inner "Mo Li" remained silent for a moment before slowly responding, her voice carrying a barely perceptible fluctuation: "That interpretation... makes sense. His Majesty may indeed have hoped that the academy would flourish like the grass on the plains, eventually nurturing countless talents. After all, this place was indeed a wasteland before." She paused, seemingly suppressing something, and continued, "However, my name is Ji Mo Li. The 'Li' in Mo Li is taken from the 'Li' in Tao Yuanming's 'Picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence,' the same as the 'Li' on this plaque. But His Majesty... could not possibly know my real name, much less the feelings my mother held when she named me."
She seemed to be emphasizing to herself, or perhaps telling Huairou the origin of her real name, as she softly recited the poem etched into her very being:
"I built my hut in the midst of human habitation, yet there is no noise of carriages and horses."
How can you be like this? When the heart is far away, the place naturally becomes secluded.
Picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, I leisurely gaze at the Southern Mountains.
The mountain air is beautiful at sunset, and birds fly back to their nests together.
The true meaning lies within, but I have forgotten the words to express it.
Reciting this poem, "Jasmine Under the Fence" gradually calmed her emotions, even developing a sense of open-mindedness. Indeed, tranquility cultivates character, frugality nurtures virtue, detachment clarifies ambition, and serenity leads to far-reaching goals. Possessing the serene state of mind of leisurely picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, while simultaneously wielding the tangible skills to benefit all living beings, this is precisely her, "Jasmine Under the Fence," the life aspiration deep within her heart.
Emperor Zhen Jiancheng, far away in the palace, had a very simple wish. He remembered her genuine panic and eventual closeness under the moonlight that night, and her answer when she asked, "What do you want?" He hadn't yet figured out how to reveal his identity, fearing the loss of this hard-won affection. But he could grant her wish to do what she wanted, quietly fulfilling the little seamstress's dream in his own way.
A gentle breeze caressed the newly hung plaque, and the two characters "Liyuan" shone brightly in the sunlight, as if carrying boundless future and tender affection.
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