Chapter 34: The Imperial Desk is Confused and Thoughts Are Hidden Deeply
Dusk, like a thick ingot of ink, slowly melted beneath the eaves of the Forbidden City. In the imperial study, the halo of light from the palace lanterns framed the pile of memorials on the desk. Emperor Qianlong's fingers, white as he gripped the red brush, the tip hovering over the four characters "Jiangnan Water Conservancy," lingering for a moment. The flickering sandalwood incense in the gilded censer cast his shadow, long and thin, across the bright yellow curtains.
"Your Majesty, it's time for dinner." Eunuch Su stood by, his hands hanging, a look of caution hidden in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. For over a year, the Emperor had often been lost in thought, contemplating memorials like this. Especially when he read documents from Jiangnan, a vague sense of melancholy always lingered between his brows, though he never expressed it to anyone.
Qianlong hummed, his eyes still fixed on the memorial. The ink on the paper seemed to come alive, transformed into the image of Little Swallow chasing butterflies in the Jiangnan water village in her previous life, the hem of her coarse cloth skirt sweeping across the bluestone, the red silk ribbon at the end of her braid more vibrant than the sunset. His Adam's apple moved, and his fingertips unconsciously stroked the plain jade pendant on the desk—the only old item he had carried with him since waking up in his rebirth last year. The jade still bore faint fingerprints, as if left by someone's constant caress.
"Su Peisheng." He suddenly spoke, his voice darker than the twilight outside the tent.
"I'm here." Eunuch Su hurriedly took half a step forward and lowered his head even lower.
"Mr. Fang, the winner of the Chongwenmen Poetry Society," Qianlong's gaze finally shifted from the memorial to the dark night outside the window. "What's his name?"
"Your Majesty, it's Mr. Fang Zhihang from Jiangnan. He has solid knowledge and is said to be quite famous in Tongcheng. He just moved to the capital with his family last month." Eunuch Su had an excellent memory. Although the affairs of these literati and poets were not something the emperor usually paid attention to, he still remembered a general idea of them.
"Fang Zhihang..." Qianlong repeated the name, his fingertips drawing an arc on the jade pendant. "Is his family... prosperous?"
Eunuch Su was stunned for a moment before he finally understood what was going on. "I heard they were a harmonious family, with a wife and son, and I think... a little daughter, but I didn't ask her name."
"My little girl..." Qianlong's fingertips paused. The cool touch of the jade pendant seeped through his fingertips into his heart, like a stone dropped into a lake, creating ripples. Could it be her? Had the girl who had so infuriated and pained him in his past life been reborn into a stable family, lovingly cared for by her parents and protected by her brothers, free from the hardships of wandering?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he suppressed it. An emperor's thoughts were not to be revealed, let alone such an absurd obsession. He cleared his throat, placed his red brush back on the pen holder, and the ink spread out in a small black stain on the inkstone. "I'll go to the poetry gathering tomorrow and take a look."
"I will arrange the ceremonial procession right away—"
"No need." Qianlong interrupted him, his tone as light as the morning dew in the imperial garden, "Just take two guards with you, and travel light." He wanted to go and see it by himself, quietly, like a secret hidden deep in his heart that no one could see through.
Although Eunuch Su was full of doubts, he did not dare to ask more questions and quickly responded: "I obey your order." He watched the emperor pick up the jade pendant again and rub it repeatedly with his fingertips. The candlelight cast a deep shadow on the emperor's face, and he could not tell whether it was majesty or melancholy.
As the night deepened, the lights in the imperial study remained on. Qianlong flipped through a volume on Jiangnan scenery, his fingertips tracing the words "Tongcheng." Suddenly, he remembered that in his previous life, Xiaoyanzi always claimed she had never been to Jiangnan, and that she would one day go with Ziwei, Yongqi, and the others to see the apricot blossoms and drizzle. Back then, he'd laughed at her foolishness, but now he realized it was her truest wish.
He closed the book and gazed out the window at the dark palace walls. They were so high and dense, they had trapped so many lives. In his previous life, he had failed to protect her, leaving her to suffer so much within them. In this life, if she truly were in the capital, living a peaceful life in some ordinary alley, he...perhaps it would be enough to just watch her from afar.
But I couldn't withdraw my gaze, like a kite on a string, drifting southward. "Little Swallow, where are you?" I asked. "Are you sitting under the lamp, painting flowers, or arguing with your brother, or perhaps... have you long forgotten all about your past life and become just a happy little girl from Jiangnan?"
He picked up his red brush and wrote his comments on the memorial, his strokes lighter than usual. The sandalwood gradually faded, and in the halo of the palace lanterns, he could almost hear the distant sound of the night watchman's beat, one beat after another, tapping in the silent night and on the emperor's secret heart.
He would keep this secret alone, like guarding a belated wish. In the unknown imperial study, accompanied by memorials and sandalwood, he would quietly wait for a reunion that might never come.
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