Spring is mostly heartless (Part 1)
Spring goes and autumn comes, the tiny buds of the moon-viewing orchid unfurl and slowly grow upwards.
At first, they were just tender shoots the size of rice grains, timidly curled up, covered with a layer of down, like the unopened eyes of a newborn bird. Later, buds the size of green beans quietly formed on the stem.
Then, the bud gradually becomes fuller, turning from green to white, and is tinged with a very faint blush, like the first blush appearing on a young girl's cheek.
Zhiwei bent down and trimmed the excess branches and leaves from the potted orchid.
Having been in the palace for nearly three years, Zhiwei had become quite accustomed to the climate of the capital.
The early spring air was dry and chilly. Zhiwei brought the Moon Orchid from outside into the house and casually handed the white fox fur coat to Shaoyang.
In a side room of Jingfang Garden, charcoal was lit. Zhiwei, dressed only in a light dark green blouse, sat at a small table reviewing Shaozhao's homework.
The small table was covered with many items, including documents sent from the Imperial Kitchen and letters received outside the palace.
Letters from outside the palace were divided into two types.
One account was written by Zhu Mingyu, who said that half a month ago he accompanied the emperor to the ancestral altar in the suburbs of the capital to participate in the triennial grand tribute ceremony.
The tribute ceremony brought together all the well-known kings and nobles of the Great Zhao Dynasty, as well as the rulers of its vassal states. Zhiwei disliked attending such occasions, so she stayed in the palace.
The ancestral altar and the imperial city were not far apart. Zhu Mingyu wrote a short letter every day and a long letter every three days, recounting all the interesting stories and anecdotes along the way. Zhiwei also selectively replied to a few of them.
Next came Wan Zhen'er's letter.
Zhiwei opened the envelope, and Wan Zhen'er's letter paper smelled of pastries.
One can imagine the pleasant environment in which this letter was written.
Zhiwei shrugged helplessly.
A year ago, the Eastern Palace was renovated, and Wan Zhen'er had no reason to stay in the palace any longer. Tears streaming down her face, she returned to the Crown Prince's side in despair.
The Eastern Palace was not far from the Imperial Palace, but it was inconvenient for her to go in and out often. She could only meet Zhiwei occasionally when there was a grand banquet that she needed to attend or when she needed Zhu Liji's permission.
The two usually corresponded mostly through letters.
In fact, the two of them entrusted Sun Wei to receive and send their letters. This was because Sun Wei was a free man and had easy access to the palace.
Secondly...
Zhiwei picked up a calligraphy copybook from the table; it was written in slanted, dog-like characters.
Teaching Shao Zhao to read is something I've been doing for years.
Shao Zhao is a smart child, but unfortunately he is impatient and can't concentrate, so he is less efficient at learning.
However, he has learned to recognize many basic characters, so he unconsciously begins to avoid some of the things that Zhiwei used to do openly in front of him.
Zhiwei opened the small drawer and carefully put away Wan Zhen'er's letter.
Zhiwei never asked much about Wan Zhen'er and Sun Wei's affair, but after so many years, she wasn't stupid and had noticed something subtle.
The letter was pushed further down the drawer.
Zhiwei thought that Wan Zhen'er and Sun Wei were truly a pair of people whose fates were playing tricks on them. But if two lovers could not be together, it was not bad to be able to look at each other from afar and keep each other company.
It's a pity about Shao Zhao.
Zhiwei lifted the curtains and found Shao Zhao, one of the protagonists in the tragic love triangle, kneeling on the ground with a flushed face, holding a tree branch and looking at some ants and centipedes.
They're all grown up.
Zhiwei sighed and laughed.
"Young lady, did you practice your calligraphy today? Have you turned to the second page of the 'Three Hundred Poems' you bought at the beginning of the year? Or are you going to keep it as a family heirloom?" Seeing Shao Zhao's cheerful expression, Zhiwei found it hard to remain silent.
Upon hearing this, Shao Zhao jumped up like a rabbit.
“Tomorrow!” Shao Zhao replied.
Zhiwei: "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, how many tomorrows there are!"
Shao Zhao covered her ears: "I'll wait until tomorrow, tomorrow is plenty of time!"
Zhiwei burst into laughter.
Amidst the continued laughter, an urgent bright yellow envelope was handed to Jingfang Garden. Shao Yang took it from the sweating eunuch's hand. The envelope bore the emperor's private seal, and the handwriting was messy, revealing an unusual urgency.
Shao Yang quickly handed it to Zhi Wei.
Upon opening the package, one finds only a few words, and orders Zhao Zhiwei to immediately travel to the ancestral altar on the outskirts of Beijing to participate in the triennial grand tribute ceremony.
"There wasn't even a reason." Zhiwei frowned as she held the letter, her fingertips tracing the word "urgent," and she felt a heaviness in her heart.
Shao Yang quickly prepared the carriages and horses.
Before leaving the palace, Shao Zhao clung to the carriage window, her face full of envy: "Sister, I heard that the princes of vassal states bring gemstones with them. Could you help me see if you can bring me some scraps?"
Zhiwei was taken aback; this little girl was quite perceptive. The Great Zhao was a powerful nation, and its triennial grand tribute ceremony was naturally a lively affair, showcasing its national power.
Presumably, the reason for summoning her here was simply to better showcase these two words in the cuisine.
Before setting off, Zhiwei tapped Shao Zhao on the head and instructed him, "Study your handwriting carefully."
——
The carriage rumbled out of the imperial city and arrived at the grassland outside the ancestral altar in half a day.
The setting sun dyed the grass golden red, and cheers came from afar. Zhiwei peeked out and saw a group of people gathered around to look at the spoils of the hunt.
A familiar voice came from the center of the open space. Three tall figures reined in their horses and stood there. Zhiwei looked closely and recognized them as Li Mingjing, Zhu Mingyu, and General Wan Qi from left to right.
Zhu Mingyu, still clad in his black armor, had game hanging around his saddle: scarlet pheasant feathers and a wild boar with its jaws wide open. He was laughing heartily and talking to Li Mingjing beside him, full of vigor and confidence.
He caught a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye, turned his head sharply, and his eyes lit up instantly: "Zhiwei!"
"Why are you here? Am I seeing things?" Zhu Mingyu hopped off his horse, panting.
Are you missing me?
Zhiwei sensed his anger and responded with a roll of her eyes.
Zhu Mingyu continued to wave his spoils, "Come and see! I came out on top in today's hunt!"
"Where did this first place come from? General Wan has hunted a fierce tiger."
"Do you understand tigers? They're the king of beasts! How can you, a wild boar, compare to them!" Li Mingjing pulled Zhu Mingyu close and whispered in his ear, "You'll make up any lie just to show off your tail feathers."
"I'm number one in terms of quantity." Zhu Mingyu broke free from Li Mingjing's embrace. The three of them had agreed before the competition to compete in terms of quantity. Zhu Mingyu gave Wan Qi a confirming look.
Wan Qi did not speak up for him.
Zhu Mingyu wanted to confront Zhiwei again, but Zhiwei stopped him.
"I have urgent business to attend to." Zhiwei's gaze swept across the crowd. "Where is His Majesty?"
"We'll be staying in the forward camp. These next two days will be for hunting gatherings, not at the imperial palace." Zhu Mingyu's smile faded slightly, and he immediately understood that Zhiwei had come with important business.
He sensibly said, "You go ahead and do your work, I'll find you later."
"That's good." Zhiwei nodded and followed the maid who was leading the way.
Zhu Mingyu watched the person he had been longing for leave and sighed subconsciously, but Li Mingjing behind him heard him.
"Look, he's completely bewitched. He can't keep her here. We need to practice more." Li Mingjing waved his hand.
"Hey, don't tell me you lost the next hunt and use that as an excuse." Li Mingjing grew up with Zhu Mingyu, and even when he lost, he had to find an excuse.
Therefore, Li Mingjing spoke up in advance, intending to thwart Zhu Mingyu's plan to break his Dao heart prematurely.
Zhu Mingyu ignored him and explained sullenly, "She really has something to do."
“Besides,” Zhu Mingyu turned his head, “I practice swordsmanship, martial arts, and refine my skills, not just to show off to her.”
Zhu Mingyu's voice suddenly became loud and clear: "I am doing this to protect this country and the people who should be protected."
"Whether she glances at me or not, the swords and spears in my hands will still serve the Great Zhao!" Zhu Mingyu said firmly.
"What a fine man!" Li Mingjing was inspired by what he said. "This is far more commendable than sentimental love."
The two of them put their arms around each other's shoulders and joked around, then turned to look at Wan Qi.
Wan Qi's expression darkened as he stroked the horse's neck and glanced at the newly lit campfire.
"It is a man's duty to wield a weapon and protect his country. However..."
He spoke in a voice only he could hear: "Protecting the country is protecting love. If it is for the closest and most important people, even if it means burning all living beings and betraying morality, I will not hesitate."
——
Zhiwei shivered.
As darkness fell, she followed the eunuch as she wandered through the maze-like tents. After finally finding her way north, the eunuch could only lead her outside the tent complex.
The wind howled, and Zhiwei followed the maid's lead towards the largest tent in the center.
Around the corner, a familiar figure stepped out, his robes almost blending into the night—it was Zhu Liji.
Knowing the subtle signs, he felt troubled.
She still remembered making pastries for Zhu Mingyu a while ago, and accidentally bumping into Zhu Liji on her way to the training ground. Zhu Liji still couldn't resist mocking her:
"She spends all day around the stove, truly acting like a stay-at-home wife."
"Did you think that by climbing up to Ming Yu and putting on this imperial robe, you would truly become someone of high status?"
"Have your former ambitions been worn down? Are you left only with the docile dream of becoming a queen dependent on others?"
Sarcasm and ridicule, utterly inexplicable!
Zhiwei wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
She was about to cover her ears and walk away quickly. In the instant they brushed past each other, Zhu Liji grabbed Zhiwei's forearm.
Zhiwei looked up and realized that something was wrong with the person in front of her.
Before, the distance was far and the light was poor. Now, upon closer inspection, one can see that the hem of Zhu Liji's dark-colored casual robe was covered in large clumps of dust, a dusty mess, with a few bits of grass and mud on it.
Especially around the knees, there was a large patch of dirt, as if the person had been kneeling heavily.
Zhiwei's throat rose and fell.
Zhu Mingyu's once straight shoulders were now slumped, and the bloodshot eyes revealed a profound weariness.
She had never seen him in such a disheveled state...
"Your Highness?" Zhiwei asked softly.
Zhu Liji's knuckles were icy cold, and his strength was boundless, gripping her arm so tightly it ached.
“Show me what you’ve got.” Zhu Liji stared into Zhiwei’s eyes, emphasizing each word, “This is a matter of life and death.”
What life was lost, and what major event was it?
Zhiwei reached out and tried to grab Zhu Liji's arm, grasping at the air.
——
Upon reaching the tent, Zhiwei dared not even breathe too loudly.
There were three times as many guards as elsewhere, each with their hands on the hilt of their swords, their expressions solemn.
Something really isn't right.
Zhiwei adjusted her breathing repeatedly and stepped lightly into the tent.
The emperor sat in the main seat, his face ashen.
Just as Zhiwei was about to curtsy, a cold glint suddenly shot out—
It was a small, poisoned dagger pointed directly at her head!
Instinct beat her thoughts; Zhiwei leaned back sharply, the knife narrowly missing her nose before embedding itself in the tent pillar behind her.
Zhiwei stumbled and fell to the ground. When she looked up, she saw a foreign man with a high nose and deep-set eyes clapping his hands and laughing.
"So you're the capable man the emperor found?" The man was dressed in a brocade robe from the Kingdom of Siam and wore a sable hat inlaid with gold and jewels. The blood-red coral on the top of the hat was the size of a pigeon's egg, and it burned like a frozen sun under the flickering candlelight.
The man's eyes were filled with disdain: "You can't even dodge a small knife properly."
Zhiwei stared at what was behind him, her heart suddenly clenching.
Behind the man knelt a person with disheveled hair; it was Jiang Qin.
With blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Jiang Qin raised his head and shook his head with difficulty when his gaze met Zhiwei's.
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