Nalan Hongye remained silent for a long time after hearing the news of Yuan Shilan's suicide. Wen Yuan and her servants slowly retreated, leaving the room filled with bright and quiet afternoon sunshine.
She remembered the last time she saw the woman who was as sharp as ice and snow. At that time, her head was wrapped in layers of gauze. Even though the wound could not be seen, she could still imagine what a tragic face was underneath through the traces of blood.
She looked at Nalan Hongye calmly and said in a very calm voice: "Even if it's not me, it will never be you."
Nalan smiled indifferently. In fact, with her status, she shouldn't go to see a deposed concubine in the cold palace, but she still came. So at this moment, facing her usual ruthlessness, she did not have any extreme reaction, but just looked at her quietly and asked a question that had been hidden in her heart: "Even if it wasn't you, you don't have to do this. Don't you know that everyone in the palace is looking forward to this day for you?"
"Who has time to fight with them?" Yuan Shilan smiled coldly, revealing the knife marks at the corners of her mouth, looking weird and scary, "I just don't want to waste time guarding a man who has no interest in me."
Nalan Hongye continued to ask: "What about you towards the emperor? Are you also indifferent?"
Yuan Shilan's expression suddenly turned ferocious. She turned her head away viciously, lowered her voice, and said angrily: "It's not mine, I don't want it."
In the brilliant lights of the Southeast Hall, Nalan Hongye, dressed in gorgeous brocade clothes, leaned back in a chair, chuckling silently.
Really don’t want it? Equally careless? If it was true as he said, why would he mutilate and disfigure himself for someone he didn't care about? How could one indulge in self-pity in endless loneliness and then decide to die?
It is because of youth and vigor, naivety and willfulness that one can be so careless and casual, without considering at all what price one's parents and relatives will have to pay if one commits suicide irresponsibly.
This harem is such a horrible place. It can drive people crazy, it can make people mad, it can make a young girl cut her face again and again, and then die without any worries.
She thought that her suicide would make that man feel guilty and remember her forever, but she didn't know that in this huge palace, her life and death were just a short-lived firework, and would not cause any ripples except becoming a topic of conversation among the palace concubines after dinner.
The thing that is most abundant in this palace is the souls of those who died unjustly.
As time goes by, one month, two months, one year, two years, who will remember that there was a Concubine Chu who was once extremely favored?
"How stupid!" Nalan Hongye sighed. With such a title, he could have lived a life of glory. With the similar face and personality, it would not be difficult for him to be favored for life. It’s a pity that I don’t have that kind of brains and heart.
"Empress?" Wen Yuan stood at the door, holding the freshly boiled medicine in her hand, and called softly.
Nalan Hongye waved casually, calling her in, took the medicine and put it into her mouth spoon by spoon. Even though the medicine was so bitter, she drank it as if it were soup, without even frowning.
Wen Yuan watched from the side. There was a small bowl of rock sugar on the tray. She moved her lips several times but ultimately said nothing.
"Pass on my imperial decree. Concubine Yuan was kind, virtuous, and obedient. Now she has died of a serious illness. She is granted the title of Sixth Rank Hui Ren and buried in the Mausoleum of Concubine Xi. Her mother's family is awarded a thousand gold coins and her brother is given an official title. The Ministry of Revenue shall handle it as appropriate."
Wen Yuan was slightly stunned and looked at Nalan in confusion. Yes, the eldest princess has the power to participate in politics and the power to appoint local officials below the fourth rank in the Huaisong area. But ever since she fell ill, she has given up power for more than two years. Is it worth it for a little guilty concubine?
Nalan Hongye did not give her any explanation, but continued: "The emperor has been busy with government affairs recently. It is better not to tell him about the death of Concubine Yuan. Send an order to all palaces to keep their mouths shut."
Wen Yuan nodded quickly in response.
The hall fell silent again. The words just now seemed to have made Nalan Hongye quite distressed. She lay down, rubbing her temples with her fingers, frowning slightly.
Even if you are extremely angry and scold someone, there will always be some affection between you. Such exclusive favor and such doting must have been done with a trace of sincerity, and as long as there was a trace of sincerity, it would be inevitable to feel a little sad once the news of her hanging herself was known. Now the northwest border is in turmoil, and there are constant party struggles in the government and the country. There are already enough mundane things around him to worry about.
After drinking the medicine, she became extremely sleepy and thought vaguely that the deposed concubine of Xiling Palace would never be able to see the emperor in her life. In two or three years, maybe he will forget about it. Even if he remembers it one day, he will not feel too bad about a woman who "died of illness".
The candlelight crackled, and it was another cold and quiet night. The imperial edict from the Southeast Palace was passed on to all the palaces, and the masters of each palace quickly understood the Queen's thoughts. Even though some people were angry about the Queen's kindness to Yuan Shilan's relatives, no one dared to say anything. A few days ago, Concubine Cheng came to apologize in person and then rushed into the Buddhist temple. This made them understand that the Queen is still in power and should not be underestimated.
The harem was still as peaceful as ever, like a quiet lake with gentle winds and waves, without a single wave to be seen. The singing and dancing are melodious every night, the wind music is ringing in the ears every day, and under the cloak of joy, all the plots and plans are quietly covered by a winter snow. The palace was so big and full of mundane affairs, and that woman with a heart as cold as ice and eyes as sharp as a sword, eventually fell down like a withered flower, so lightly and without a sound.
“Living always requires more courage than dying.”
Nalan Hongye's smile was always very light. She looked at the gradually brightening sky outside the window, and vaguely seemed to see that dark green shadow again. He stood in the shadows, looking at himself silently. The long sword at his waist was simple and solemn, and its bloodthirsty edge was hidden in the small iron sheath.
He just stood there, with a dark veil above his head, like a butterfly of death, fluttering hideously.
That day was the day his father was buried. He stood behind the sad and crying princess and said these words.
"But……"
The wind suddenly blew outside the window. A layer of light snow fell last night and it hasn't stopped yet. When the wind blows, snowflakes from the sky and the ground dance together, hovering and swimming like white fish in the deep sea.
"Why did you suddenly lose your courage?"
Yushu remembered that it was raining heavily on the day Xuanmo died, and the rain was so fast, like a pouring mountain torrent. The doctors who rushed over from the Imperial Hospital were all soaked in their clothes, with rain all over their foreheads and cheeks, like ducks that had just emerged from the river.
It was a sunny and cloudless morning, but she still took the servants to move his books out to the yard to dry them in the sun. The sunlight felt warm on her body, like the lake water in June.
But in the evening, soldiers from the Southeast Naval Office suddenly escorted a carriage into the capital and rushed into the gate of Prince Xuan's Palace.
He was helped down from the carriage with a pale face, and then went into the study. A moment later, he changed into court robes and tried to force his way into the palace. However, before he walked out of the door, he collapsed, and blood gushed out of his body, everywhere like winding streams. She stood beside him, at a loss, crying in fear. The servants rushed up in a panic, carried him into the house, and then ran out to find a doctor.
The rain started to fall from that time.
For seven consecutive days, there was no rest.
The people all said that it was God crying for Prince Xuan, bidding farewell to such a loyal and good man.
The imperial doctors went in one after another and came out one after another, covered in dust and dirt. They kept saying something in her ears. Some were about severe injuries, too much blood loss, some were about being weak from days of fighting, some were about being seriously injured and forcing themselves to work hard, some were about wounds being too deep, and their heart and lungs being damaged... But she could not hear any of it. She watched those old men with white beards and white hair passing by in front of her like a revolving lantern. Everyone had a heavy face, their mouths opening and closing, like fish silently spitting out bubbles in the deep sea.
She wondered, what were they talking about? Why don't you go in and treat him? He was in such good health, he could swing a 80-jin sword and wield a 100-jin iron spear. He was just injured and bled a little. What was the big deal? Why are you still lying there and not getting up? The eldest princess's engagement has already been completed, and the Emperor of Yan will leave tomorrow. As he is an important official of the Song Dynasty, how can he not go to see him off?
She automatically ignored all the noise outside, ran to his side stubbornly, gently pushed his arm, and just like many years ago, she whispered in his ear very seriously: "My lord, get up, my lord, get up..."
But he still didn't move. He just closed his eyes tightly with his brows furrowed, as if he had something on his mind even in his sleep.
His arms were cold, like ice cubes used to cool down in midsummer. She finally became more and more scared, but still did not dare to use force. She just gently pushed his arm and shouted over and over again: "My lord, please get up, my lord, please get up..."
Gradually, there were cries all around, and some of the maids took out their handkerchiefs and secretly wiped their tears. But she suddenly got angry, turned around and drove them all away.
It was raining so heavily outside. When the door opened, the wind blew in cold raindrops, hitting her thin clothes and blowing them through in an instant.
An imperial physician came forward and said softly, "Princess, the prince is no longer alive. Please accept my condolences."
All her life, she had always been a virtuous and respectful woman. She was filial to her parents at home, obedient to her brothers and sisters, and after marriage, she regarded her husband as her heaven and never dared to be willful or mischievous in the slightest. But at that moment, she suddenly became so angry that she slapped the third-rank imperial physician in the face and shouted angrily, "You are talking nonsense!"
However, the elderly doctor said nothing, but just looked at her silently, his eyes so calm, yet full of sympathy and compassion.
And she completely collapsed under such a gaze, her legs went weak, and she fell into deep darkness.
When I woke up, Xuan Mo was also awake. All his former disciples and subordinates were standing in the yard, and they came into the room one after another to listen to him talk. Seeing her coming with the child, those people automatically made way for her. She stood under the peach tree in front of the house, quietly looking at the window where the candlelight flickered, just like when they first met many years ago.
She was still young at that time, and followed her father obediently. Beside her were her brothers and sisters, as well as the sons and daughters of wealthy families. She wore a humble white satin dress, and among the silks and brocades, she looked like a hairless goose. He stood in the corridor, with handsome features and extraordinary looks, and his smile was so gentle, like the warm breeze in early spring.
The servant followed behind her, holding an umbrella for her. Yong'er was still young, white and chubby. He curled up in her arms, yawning from time to time and looking very sleepy.
Those people seemed to have been talking for a long time, and because she was Xuan Mo's wife, no one avoided her. She heard people around her talking in low voices. Most of the topics they were talking about were how these old ministers of the Song Dynasty would maintain the Song Dynasty after the eldest princess' marriage, how they would position themselves correctly in the new dynasty, how they would avoid conflicts with the officials of the Yan State, and how they would gradually integrate into the Yan court and become the princess's assistants. There is also Xuan Mo's confidant who said that he had taken Xuan Mo's letter and was going to give it to His Majesty the Emperor Yan.
Finally, the crowd dispersed little by little, and the yard became quiet again. There was no other sound except the sound of rain.