Chapter 23: Night Sophora Whispers, Old Dreams and New Traces
As soon as the midnight clappers sounded, the Fang residence's backyard was bathed in a clear glow. The moonlight stretched the shadow of the old locust tree, like a faint ink painting spread across a slate slab. The occasional rustle of its leaves in the night breeze mingled with the chirping of insects beneath the wall, forming the whispers of the capital's first night.
Little Swallow, draped in a thin, moon-white blouse, stepped barefoot on the cool stone pavement. She hadn't slept, having just been lying on the bed, listening to the steady breathing of her parents next door and the occasional rustle of pages from her brother's room. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her heart, like a sparrow, fluttered and restless. She simply threw on some clothes and slipped into the backyard. On the stone table lay the flower seed bag, left untied during the day. Moonlight fell on it, illuminating the rose stitching on the cloth bag.
She sat down on the stone bench, her soles resting against the cool stone, and she felt more awake than on the bed. Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the seed bag, which grew warm from being twisted. The rose seeds inside rubbed against her palm, like countless tiny thoughts. The night breeze lifted the corner of her shirt, carrying the fragrance of old locust trees. This scent, different from the pine and cypress fragrance of the imperial gardens, carried the down-to-earth feel of the market, but it suddenly reminded her of countless sleepless nights in her past life—back then, when she would sneak to the corridor of Shufangzhai, watch the moon climb over the palace walls, listen to the footsteps of patrolling guards in the distance, and feel a sense of emptiness in her heart, always wondering, "When can I feel more at ease?"
"Emperor..." She suddenly whispered these three words, her voice so soft it was carried away by the wind, audible only to herself. Her fingertips trembled violently as she quickly clenched the seed bag, her knuckles turning white. Moonlight fell on her face, and her eyelashes fluttered slightly. Her eyes, reflecting the moonlight like shattered silver, held a vaguely eerie feeling.
She looked up at the moon. The moon in the capital was different from the moon in the south, brighter and clearer, like a polished bronze mirror in the palace. At this time in her previous life, she might have been kneeling outside the Yangxin Palace, apologizing, or chasing fireflies with Yongqi in the Imperial Garden. Or perhaps... she was listening to the Emperor scold her for being "unruly" with a smile. Those memories were like the shadows of locust leaves, flickering and piercing, yet warming at the same time.
"I've come to Beijing," she whispered to the moon, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth, a touch of relief and melancholy. "In this life... perhaps we won't meet again." She looked down at the flower seed packet, her fingertips brushing over the rose pattern on it. "You have your Forbidden City, and I have my old locust tree. It's good this way."
The coolness of the stone slabs crept up through the soles of her feet, but she didn't feel cold. Thinking of her father writing in the study during the day, her mother steaming buns in the kitchen, her brother's serious face as he inspected the courtyard wall, her heart suddenly filled with joy. The stability she had sought but never had in her previous life was now within her reach in this one. How could she not cherish it?
"I have parents, an older brother, and a yard where I can grow roses." She counted on her fingers, whispering, as if trying to convince herself, "No need to learn rules, no need to worry about saying the wrong thing, no need to... worry about someone leaving." Her voice trailed off at the last parting, and her eyes suddenly felt warm. The pain of parting in her past life was too great; those heartbreaking cries, the powerless attempts to hold on, had become scars etched on her bones, reminding her to hold on to the warmth at hand in this life.
The night wind rustled the leaves of the locust trees, like someone sighing softly. Little Swallow stood up, walked to the tilled patch of ground, squatted down, and poked the moist soil with her fingertips. The soil was cool and full of life. She poured a few rose seeds from the seed bag and spread them in her palm. The seeds shone faintly in the moonlight.
"You must grow well." She gently scattered the flower seeds in the soil and covered them with a thin layer of soil with her fingertips. "When they bloom next year, it will prove... that this is truly home."
After doing all this, she brushed the dirt off her hands and turned to walk back. As she passed the stone table, she saw a flower seed bag blown to the ground by the wind. She quickly picked it up, dusted it off, and tucked it away like a treasure. The corner of her shirt was slightly damp from the dew, and it felt cool against her arm, but she felt at ease.
When she returned to her room, the moonlight from the window lattice fell on the zither table. The guqin she had brought with her during the day sat quietly there, its body reflecting the moonlight and radiating a warm glow. She walked over and gently plucked the strings with her fingertips. The soft "ding" sound was particularly clear in the silent night, like a gentle farewell to her past self.
As she lay back on the bed, the delicate fragrance of the old locust tree still lingered in her nose. She tucked the flower seed bag under her pillow, as if that would tamp down the surging memories. This time, she was no longer the helpless little swallow. She was Fang Ci, with a family, a place to call home, and a yard full of roses waiting for her to plant.
"Go to sleep," she said to herself, pulling the quilt and burying her face in the pillowcase that smelled of soapberry. "I still have to plant roses tomorrow."
The moonlight outside the window remained clear, the leaves of the locust trees whispered softly, and the chirping of insects at the base of the wall gradually faded. My first night in the capital, a fusion of old dreams and new hopes, finally took on a sense of peace and warmth. And in the distance, in the Forbidden City, palace lanterns twinkled. Perhaps someone, too, gazed southeast beneath the moon, a heart filled with unfulfilled longings.
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