Chapter 51: Red Silk Burns the Heart, the Imperial Will is Hard to Disobey
The aroma of sweet noodles and soy sauce from the courtyard, mingled with the cool early autumn breeze, drifted far across the bluestone pavement. Little Swallow squatted by the coal stove, clutching the red silk ribbon untied from her braid, her fingertips repeatedly tracing the crooked stitches of her red embroidery. The cuffs of her ginger-colored shorts were stained with charcoal ash, but she was oblivious, staring blankly at the dancing flames in the hearth.
"Third sister, what are you staring at?" Liu Qing came in carrying freshly chopped firewood, the back of his blue shirt glistening with sweat. "Uncle Zhang just ordered pancakes for tomorrow morning, and he specifically asked for extra spicy diced radish, saying it's refreshing." He leaned the firewood against the old locust tree and caught a glimpse of the red silk in Xiaoyanzi's hand. "How did you untie this? Didn't you always say it was a talisman?"
Xiaoyanzi stuffed the red silk into her sleeve pocket, but the fabric pricked her fingertips—the silver bracelet Xiao Jian had given her was hidden inside. The cool metal against the scorching red silk felt like the turmoil in her heart. "There are so many rules in the palace, and red silk is too conspicuous." She grabbed the bamboo shovel by the coal stove and added a piece of broken coal to the hearth. Sparks flew, and her eyes were filled with panic.
Liu Hong came out with freshly pickled diced radish. The cuffs of her moon-white cloth gown were stained with red sauce. She placed the jar on the stone table, and the sour and spicy aroma filled her nose. "I guess you were scared by the people in the palace." She squatted down next to Xiaoyanzi and reached out to test her forehead. "Your face is as hot as a coal stove. Did you get caught in the wind when you ran back just now?"
"No." Xiaoyanzi grasped the handle of the bamboo shovel and shook her head. The blue cloth strip at the end of her braid swept across the edge of the coal stove, stirring up a cloud of fine dust. "It's just... he said he wanted to eat pancakes from the compound on his birthday." She bit her lower lip, her voice trembling. "Sister Hong, he even knew that Uncle Zhang liked spicy diced radish. Did he send someone to keep an eye on us?"
The coarse porcelain bowl in Liu Hong's hand clanged against the jar. She hurriedly covered her mouth, a trace of fear in her eyes: "Then...then should we still do it? Or...my second brother and I should push the stall out of the city overnight?"
"You can't hide." Xiao Jian's voice came from the courtyard gate. His blue cotton robe was stained with night dew. In his hand was an oil-paper bag containing sweet-scented osmanthus cakes he had just brought from the Fang family's kitchen. "The people from the Ministry of Internal Affairs have even recorded the height of the courtyard's thresholds in a book. Where can you hide?" He placed the sweet-scented osmanthus cake on the stone table and his eyes fell on Xiao Yanzi's tightly clenched sleeve pocket. "You still have the red silk?"
Xiaoyanzi nodded, and pressed the warm red silk with her fingertips through the fabric: "It's hidden inside." It felt like holding a small ball of burning charcoal, burning her heart, but she couldn't bear to throw it away.
Liu Qing's dark face flushed crimson, and he pounded his fist on the stall cart: "What kind of a deal is this! I have to be remembered by the emperor just for eating a pancake! How about I put more chili peppers in the sauce, so it's so spicy that he won't dare to ask for it next time!"
"Nonsense." Xiao Jian glared at him and pulled out a small paper bag from his sleeve pocket. Inside was some dried mugwort. "Mix this with the spicy diced radish. It'll calm your nerves. If he really wants to make things difficult, no matter how much chili we add, it won't help." He stuffed the paper bag into Liu Hong's hand. "Tomorrow morning, when you make pancakes, put more sesame seeds in them. Use freshly baked coarse flour, not refined flour. The more homely the better."
Xiaoyanzi suddenly stood up, her ginger skirt sweeping across the coal stove, sending up a shower of sparks. "I'll go deliver it." She looked at her brother's surprised expression and clenched the red silk in her sleeve pocket. "He wants pancakes from the compound, so naturally someone from the compound should deliver them. I want to see what he's up to."
Xiao Jian was about to object when he saw the stubbornness in his sister's eyes—a tenacity tinged with the mundane, like the wild chrysanthemums in the corner of a courtyard, which, even wilted by wind and rain, still holds on to bloom. He sighed and untied a jade pendant from his waist. On it was a carved "Fang" character. "Take this with you, and the palace guards will let you go."
As night fell into the courtyard, Liu Hong was still sorting chili peppers under the lamp. The collar of her moon-white cloth jacket was stained with chili powder. She sneezed from time to time, but she still carefully picked out the reddest and spiciest ones, strung them together with thick thread, and hung them under the eaves, like a string of tiny red lanterns.
"Sister Hong, stop it, it's spicy enough." Xiaoyanzi lay on the stone table, staring at the red peppers in a daze. "If he gets sick from eating them, will he blame me?"
Liu Hong put down her work and wiped her red fingertips with a cloth. "I'm not afraid of being blamed. We make genuine food, which is better than those snacks in the palace that are made with ulterior motives." She stuffed a freshly baked multi-grain pancake into Xiaoyanzi's hand. "Tomorrow morning, after I deliver the pancakes, I'll save some hot sweet noodle sauce for you. We can eat it with the pancakes when we get back."
Xiaoyanzi bit into the pancake, the coarse aroma of the flour mixed with the crunch of the sesame seeds calming her down a bit. She touched the red silk in her sleeve pocket, which still held her body warmth, like the confidence the courtyard had given her.
The candles in the imperial study burned until three in the morning. Qianlong gazed at the apricot blossom painting, his fingertips repeatedly tracing circles on the red silk ribbon. Eunuch Su brought a bowl of ginseng soup. Seeing the silver hairs at the emperor's temples clearly visible in the candlelight, he couldn't help but advise, "Your Majesty, it's late. You should rest. Tomorrow you have a birthday banquet and you have to meet envoys from various countries."
"I'm not sleepy." Qianlong picked up his brush and wrote the character "Yan" on the rice paper. His brush strokes were vigorous, but the last stroke trembled slightly. "Tomorrow morning... you go to the courtyard yourself to get the pancakes." He paused, then added, "Don't set up any formalities. Just say... it's from the imperial kitchen."
Eunuch Su sighed inwardly, this emperor had learned to be so cautious for a pancake. He bowed and replied, "I'll make a note of that." As he left, he glanced back and saw the emperor lost in thought at the character "燕." The candlelight cast tiny specks of light on his bright yellow dragon robe, like scattered osmanthus petals.
The next day, before dawn, white smoke billowed from the courtyard's stove. Liu Hong kneaded the dough with exceptional vigor, the dough thumping in the coarse porcelain bowl. The sleeves of her moon-white cloth jacket were rolled up high, revealing her sturdy arms. Liu Qing squatted beside her, tending the fire, the front of his blue cloth shirt stained with flour. Neither of them spoke, only the crackling of the wood lingering in the courtyard.
Xiaoyanzi changed into a half-worn blue cloth skirt with two patches on the hem—those patches Liu Hong had made for her, using scraps of cloth, but they looked better than the palace brocade. She carefully folded the freshly baked pancakes and placed them in a bamboo basket, covering them with a piece of coarse cloth with a crooked little chrysanthemum embroidered on the corner.
"Be careful on the road." Xiao Jian stood at the entrance of the alley, the collar of his blue cotton robe standing up, blocking the cool morning breeze. "Don't look around after you enter the palace. Put down the pancakes and come back." He handed her a small porcelain bottle. "There's sour plum soup in it. If you feel stuffy, drink it."
Little Swallow nodded and, carrying her bamboo basket, walked towards the palace gate. A thin layer of frost formed on the bluestone pavement, making a crackling sound as she stepped on it. The pancakes in the basket, still warm, wafted through the coarse cloth, their sweet fragrance gently nudging her forward like the courtyard behind her.
The guards at the palace gate noticed the jade pendant around her waist and, as expected, didn't stop her. Little Swallow lowered her head and walked quickly through the long corridor. The red walls shone coldly in the morning light, and the copper bells on the eaves tinkled in the wind, as if counting her steps.
A colorful tent had been erected in the square of the Qianqing Palace, and red silk flower balls swayed in the wind. From a distance, they looked a bit like red peppers drying in the courtyard. Just as Xiaoyanzi was about to go in, she was stopped by Eunuch Su.
"Miss Fang, please come this way." Eunuch Su smiled until his eyes narrowed into slits and led her to the side hall. "The emperor is waiting inside."
A heater was burning brightly in the side hall, and the air was filled with the aroma of incense mixed with a faint scent of alcohol. Qianlong was wearing a bright yellow casual suit, no jade belt, and his hair was loosely tied with a red gold hairpin. When he saw her enter, he paused with his wine glass in his hand.
"Where are the pancakes?" His voice was slightly hoarse from waking up in the morning, and his eyes fell on the bamboo basket in her hand, like a child waiting for candy.
Xiaoyanzi placed the bamboo basket on the table. The moment she lifted the coarse cloth, the sweet aroma of pancakes, mixed with the pungent smell of spicy diced radish, filled the incense-filled hall. "Your Majesty, these are pancakes from the courtyard," she said, her head lowered, the blue cloth strips from her braid draping across her chest. "They're made with freshly ground coarse flour, with sesame seeds and chili peppers."
Qianlong picked up a piece, his fingertips trembling with heat, but he couldn't bear to put it down. The rough crust crackled as he bit into it, and the spicy diced radish shot straight to his head. The softness of the diced radish, mixed with the sweet bean sauce, was surprisingly more palatable than the delicacies from the imperial kitchen. He suddenly smiled, warmth etched in the fine lines at the corners of his eyes: "It still tastes the same."
Xiaoyanzi looked up suddenly and met his smiling eyes. There was no imperial majesty in them, only a softness she couldn't understand, like the warm sun in the courtyard, which made her heart tremble.
"What do you have hidden in your sleeve pocket?" Qianlong suddenly asked, his eyes falling on her slightly bulging sleeve pocket.
Xiaoyanzi hurriedly covered her sleeves with her hands, her cheeks instantly flushed: "Nothing... nothing."
Qianlong didn't let her go. He put down his pancake and walked over, gently touching her sleeve pocket with his fingertips. The warmth of the red silk penetrated the fabric, like a small flame, burning his fingertips numbly. "Is it red silk?" He spoke softly, as if afraid to scatter something. "From the compound?"
The red silk in her sleeve pocket seemed to come alive, burning in her palm. Little Swallow took a half step back, bumping into the bamboo basket behind her. The pancakes fell out and landed on the gold brick floor with a dull thud.
"Your Majesty, please forgive me!" She hurried to pick it up, but Qianlong grabbed her wrist. His palm was warm, with calluses from years of holding a pen, and it hurt her.
"Don't hide." Qianlong looked at the red corners of her eyes, as if he saw the girl who was frightened by Rong Mama in his previous life. "I... just want to take a look."
Xiaoyanzi bit her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to pull her hand back, to pick up the pancake from the ground, to escape this unnerving gaze, but her wrist was held tightly, as if held by fate.
From outside the side hall came the eunuch's greeting: "Emissaries from various countries have arrived—"
Qianlong finally released her hand, the warmth of her wrist still lingering on his fingertips. He picked up a pancake that hadn't fallen off and stuffed it into her hand. "Go back," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Tell Liu Qing and Liu Hong that this pancake... I like it very much."
Xiaoyanzi pinched the pancake as if it were a branding iron. She knelt to salute, and when she turned around, the red silk from her sleeve pocket fell out and landed on the edge of the bright yellow dragon robe, like a small red flower that had suddenly bloomed.
Qianlong bent down to pick up the red silk, and his fingertips touched the familiar stitches. He suddenly remembered the knee pads that Xiaoyanzi had sewn for him with scraps of cloth in Shufangzhai in his previous life. The stitches were also crooked, but they were so warm that it made people tremble in the heart.
"This... I'll keep it for you." He stuffed the red silk into his sleeve pocket and watched Xiaoyanzi's back disappear outside the palace. Suddenly, he said to Eunuch Su, "For the birthday banquet reward, prepare some more brocade from Jiangnan and send it to the miscellaneous courtyard."
Eunuch Su looked at the half piece of red silk sticking out of the emperor's sleeve pocket, and finally understood that the emperor's heart had long been tied by that piece of coarse red silk.
As Little Swallow walked out of the palace gate, carrying her empty bamboo basket, the morning sun shone brightly on the red wall, stretching her shadows far out. She felt her empty sleeve pocket, feeling as if something was missing, yet strangely relieved.
At the entrance of the alley, under the old locust tree, Xiao Jian was waiting for her. A little frost had fallen on his blue cotton robe. Seeing her return, he hurried to greet her: "Are you okay?"
Xiaoyanzi shook her head, took out an uneaten pancake from her bosom, and handed it to him: "Try it, Sister Hong put too much sauce, it's a bit salty."
Xiao Jian took a bite, the aroma of the coarse noodles mixed with the spiciness made him cough. Xiaoyanzi looked at his frown and suddenly laughed out loud, tears rolling down her cheeks and landing on the pancake, salty but with a warmth from the courtyard.
The palace wall in the distance shone with golden light in the morning light. In the side hall, Emperor Qianlong was stroking the piece of red silk. The temperature of his fingertips was so hot that it seemed to warm the fate of this life.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
