First Meeting with Parents (Part 1)
Moonlight streamed through the torn paper window, casting dappled shadows on the floor. I lay on the bed, my fingertips unconsciously tracing the coarse sheets. Thankfully, with Ya Huan's help, and the fact that aside from the first few days after Consort Li arrived, almost no one else came to the Cold Palace, I was able to barely find refuge in this turbulent place. Unbeknownst to me, two weeks had passed since I transmigrated to this unknown dynasty. From the initial shock and bewilderment to now barely adapting to the oppressive life in the Cold Palace, every day felt like walking a tightrope, constantly on guard against the dangers around me. Tomorrow was the second day of the third month, the day palace maids were supposed to visit their families, and it would be the first time I, as "Tian Zhao," would face the father of this body.
The evening before, when I went to deliver some clean clothes to Granny Zhang, she was sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard mending clothes. The afterglow of the setting sun fell on her silver hair, adding a touch of softness. "Tian Zhao, tomorrow is the day you'll see your family. Your father sent someone to tell you he wants to see you." Granny Zhang put down her needlework, looked up at me, and said with concern in her eyes, "Your father is just a compiler in the Hanlin Academy of the eighth rank. In this capital, he has very little influence. To keep you away from the intrigues of the inner palace, he wore out countless pairs of shoes, begged everyone he could, and humbly said countless kind words before finally managing to get you a job in the Cold Palace. Although it's a bit tough here, at least it's peaceful."
I casually tucked a stray hair behind my ear and asked in a nonchalant tone, "I wonder if Father and Mother have been healthy all these years? Is Mother still as vain as ever?" Granny Zhang looked at me with loving eyes, sighed softly, and patted the back of my hand. "Don't worry," she said, "although your mother has had a hard life, she's in good spirits. That mole on her right eyebrow actually makes her even more charming." A warm feeling welled up inside me, and my eyes stung slightly. I quickly lowered my head to hide my emotions.
Granny Zhang then carefully instructed me on the meeting place: "Walk west along the south bank of the moat. There are two large vermilion gates in the middle of the city wall, with wooden fences inside. Wait here by the fence; your father should arrive on time." She paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and added, "Oh, and if your mother comes too, remember to give her my regards." I lowered my eyes to hide the turbulent emotions within them and respectfully replied, "Thank you for informing me, Granny. I've got it."
I silently memorized this information. After returning to my room, I looked at Ya Huan, who was tidying up the food boxes. I hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Ya Huan, I'm going to see my family by the moat tomorrow. As for the errands at the palace..." Before I could finish, Ya Huan interrupted me with a smile, "Don't worry, Sister Zhao, I can handle tomorrow's work by myself. You can go see your family with peace of mind. It's okay if you come back late; I'll let Granny know." Her smile was sincere and warm, which eased my tense nerves a little.
The next morning, before dawn, I quietly got up, changed into the slightly neater ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) that Ya Huan had found for me, and carefully walked out of the Cold Palace in the dim morning light. The early spring morning was particularly cold, and the cold wind felt like knives on my face. I wrapped myself tightly in the cotton padding and followed the route that Zhang Mama had given me, walking west along the south bank of the moat.
The moat was calm and still, reflecting the gray sky. The willows on the banks had just sprouted tender green buds, swaying gently in the cold wind. As I walked, I cautiously observed my surroundings—the city walls were several meters high, smooth and difficult to climb; the moat was bottomless, and there were no boats on it. Guards patrolled at intervals, clad in armor, carrying long spears, their sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, a picture of strict vigilance.
I stopped before the vermilion gates in the middle of the city wall. The two gates looked somewhat old; much of the vermilion paint had peeled off, revealing the dark brown wood beneath. The wooden railings inside were smooth and even, each wrist-thick strip etched with fine cracks by time, the joints secured crookedly with rusty copper nails. The gaps between the railings were wide, but not wide enough for one to squeeze through sideways. I pretended to straighten my clothes and approached, my fingertips tracing the rough wood grain, unexpectedly touching several fresh scratches—crosses repeatedly slashed with a sharp object, faintly visible amidst the crisscrossing marks. To the left of the gates was a narrow alley leading to a palace not far away; to the right was a dense forest, from which several paths could be vaguely seen, their destinations unknown.
I chose a spot near a corner, where I could clearly see the entrance but wouldn't easily attract attention. Time passed slowly, and dawn gradually broke. Palace maids and eunuchs came one after another, speaking to their loved ones through the fence. The air was filled with a deep sense of longing, and occasionally, soft sobs could be heard.
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding uncontrollably. I didn't know what "Tian Zhao's" father looked like, what he would ask, or whether I could successfully deceive him. I could only repeat Zhang Mama's words in my mind over and over again, praying that "Tian Zhao's" parents would appear soon so that I could judge how to deal with them based on their reactions.
Just then, the creaking sound of wooden wheels rolling over the bluestone slabs drifted from afar, mingled with the heavy breathing of horses. I immediately looked up alertly. The morning light, like a thin veil, enveloped the surroundings. An old carriage pulled by thin horses slowly came into view, its wheels leaving crooked tracks on the scattered gold dust. A corner of the faded coarse cloth curtain outside the carriage was lifted by the morning breeze, vaguely revealing the patched gray cloth inside. As the carriage came to a stop, a middle-aged man in a faded blue cloth shirt jumped down first. In the morning light, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were as deep as ravines, and the calluses on his fingers were particularly noticeable as he lifted the bamboo food box. Then, a woman in a faded blue cloth skirt, leaning on the carriage shaft, landed shakily. The faded red ribbon on her wrist swayed gently with her movements, and the weariness in her eyes was made even more pronounced by the rosy light. I squinted and finally saw the mole, like a cinnabar dot, on her right eyebrow.
It was them! My heart leaped into my throat, and my palms sweated slightly. I took a deep breath, trying to make my expression look natural, and stood quietly in place, waiting for them to speak first, just as I had planned.
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