Chapter 1 The Rain Drizzles Outside the Curtain
May 15th, Fuyou Mountain on the outskirts of Beijing.
A cold, drizzling rain fell, making the sky damp and the ground wet.
As the night deepened, the Yuqing Temple in the mountains was barely visible, its undulating outline barely discernible. Only upon closer approach, stepping on the slippery moss, could one see flickering candlelight and hear whispers.
"With such heavy rain, won't the yard flood tomorrow?"
"What's there to be afraid of? Isn't it good that it's raining? No more cats groaning in heat."
"Exactly! They kept chirping all spring, and it didn't stop even in summer!"
"Alright—let's all go to sleep before the cat starts meowing."
Inside the hut at the mountain gate, the female Taoists fell silent, and all the lamps were extinguished. Only the occasional rustling sound of the mat turning could be heard.
It's raining continuously outside the window.
Densely packed underground, past the Sanqing Hall, the God of Wealth Hall, and the Medicine King Hall, one ascends the steps, then past the Precept Hall, the Guest Hall, and the Dining Hall, before descending ninety-nine steps to reach the deepest part of the Taoist temple on the back mountain—a secluded and quiet place, rarely visited by anyone. Due to its low-lying location, it is now filled with water, forming an island around the only monastery built on the central earthen slope.
Suddenly, a figure flashed across the "lake," like a dragonfly at this time of year, or a shooting star or arrow.
The intruder broke through the window in an instant, climbed into the room, and closed the window tightly. The series of actions were quick and efficient. He also made sure to cover the bamboo curtain that had been lowered earlier, so that no one else would have the chance to peek into the room through the window.
The woman sitting on the bed, witnessing all this, couldn't help but silently curl the corners of her lips into a smile.
The man who burst into the room immediately looked at the woman on the bed. She looked to be in her early twenties, with a beautiful face, bright eyes like autumn water, slightly upturned at the corners, and lips that were red without any lipstick. She wore a crystal lotus crown, a yellow skirt and a crimson shirt. Although she was dressed as a Taoist nun, she was not wearing a ceremonial robe, nor was she sitting cross-legged. Instead, she was leaning against the headboard with her legs dangling off the edge of the bed.
The woman propped herself up on the bed with her elbows, her wrists resting on her temples, her unpainted nails just a few centimeters away from touching the floral decoration on her forehead.
There was even a pot of wine on the tea table next to the tatami.
The woman lit all the lamps in the room, illuminating it brightly. The man then checked the windows again to make sure that no one outside could see inside, and remembering that he had avoided being seen by anyone around the Taoist temple before he arrived, he gradually felt at ease.
Seeing the man's reaction, the woman's quiet chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh.
The man was taken aback at first, then realized what he meant and hurriedly explained, "I'm not worried about myself, I'm afraid of Miss..."
"What do I have to be afraid of?" the woman interrupted before the man could finish speaking. She had been divorced for three years and was no longer a true nun; who could possibly control her?
The man choked on his words, and after a moment, he suddenly knelt on one knee: "I arrived early, but I am not on time. Please forgive me, Miss!"
The woman had arranged to meet him at Hai hour (9-11 PM), but he rushed there as soon as he finished his shift and arrived at Fuyou Mountain by Shen hour (3-5 PM). He lingered outside the Taoist temple until Xu hour (7-9 PM), but couldn't resist any longer and barged in ahead of schedule.
"It's alright if you're early." The woman raised her chin, gesturing for the man to stand up.
The man was still uneasy: "Then what we said before still stands, right?"
Upon hearing this, the woman lifted her eyelids and glanced at the man from head to toe. She thought back to when he was her father's bodyguard, he was decisive and courageous, straightforward and efficient. How come now that he has become a great general, he has reverted to his old ways, hesitant and indecisive?
“Of course,” the woman raised her eyebrows. “A lady’s word is as good as gold.”
Women in this world are more likely to keep their promises than men.
Upon hearing her words, the man immediately curled up his lips into a bright smile, which also had a touch of naivety.
The man used his light-footed skill to enter the Taoist temple. Although he was extremely fast, half of his body was soaked. So he took out a package of waterproof oil paper from his pocket, carefully opened it, and took out a dry cloth inside: "Miss, wait a moment, let me dry myself first."
As he spoke, he took off the wet robe that clung to his skin, wiped his body with a handkerchief, and wrung out the dripping water from his hair.
The woman leaned back against the headboard, squinted, and openly scrutinized the man—tall and robust, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. Because of the water, his abdominal muscles appeared exceptionally firm, as if his entire body was brimming with strength.
The woman pursed her lips. She had only been interested in the man since she saw him at the hot spring on the day he returned to the capital.
The woman got up to get the wine, slowly took another sip, and her eyes sparkled.
The man tidied himself up before daring to approach the bed. Only then did he realize that the woman had been staring at him, and his face flushed crimson, the color spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
Her ears were so red they looked like they'd been roughly rubbed hundreds of times.
He slowly walked towards the woman, bowing his head, with a solemnity and reverence even greater than when meeting a saint, as if fulfilling a long-cherished dream. His eyes shone with an astonishing light, filled with piety.
The woman slowly lowered the hand that had been supporting her head.
She smiled at him, waiting quietly and encouraging him.
The man's hands and feet seemed to have grown new, moving around but never touching her.
After a long silence, he cautiously asked, "May I... kiss you first?"
The woman hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Since she had already decided on this romantic blind date, why be coy and pretentious? The phrase "pulling back from the brink" had never been relevant to her.
The man received her consent, but did not immediately kiss the woman's lips. Instead, he gently kissed her forehead with his own lips, and he caught a whiff of that faint, sweet fragrance that had haunted his dreams since his youth.
Only she has it, only she.
The man, increasingly aroused by her delicate sniff, swallowed hard, lowered his chin, and traced the contours of her eyebrows with his lips, from the inner corner to the outer corner, back and forth.
The woman was a little ticklish, and also couldn't stand the man's dawdling—how long was this kiss going to last? So she kicked him. The man wasn't annoyed at all; instead, he quickly looked down to check her foot—did it hurt?
The woman wobbled, gesturing for him to help her remove her embroidered shoes.
The man immediately knelt down on one knee and helped her take off her shoes. The gold bracelet on the woman's ankle swayed, captivating him, and the crisp sound of the bracelet made his heart pound faster and faster.
His movements became slower and slower; he took off his shoes, then his socks.
"Are you always this slow at killing enemies on the battlefield?" The woman couldn't help but tap the man's chest with her other foot.
The man grinned and quickened his pace. The woman gestured for him to get on the bed.
The man remained squatting, carefully folding her shoes and socks. The woman grew impatient and went to fetch the wine from the table, taking two gulps herself—not the fine liquor favored by high-ranking officials in the capital, but a strong, pungent spirit, her favorite. However, there was only one pot; no wine had been prepared for the man.
The man climbed onto the bed, and the woman quickly succumbed to the effects of the alcohol. The strong liquor she had drunk seemed to dissolve in her body, floating and sinking in the waves. She looked at the window and the bamboo curtain, which were damp and seemed to never dry. The white gauze curtains were like smoke and mist, hazy and dreamlike. The candlelight blazed fiercely, burning her heart like fire, and the cool mat was scalding hot.
The woman looked around, but the man's gaze remained fixed on her face. He lay on his back, looking up at her, and the more he looked, the more beautiful she seemed. He was a swordsman, and although he hadn't read many books, he knew a few phrases: "a face like a peach blossom" and "eyebrows like a crescent moon."
She couldn't bring herself to say it, for even the flowers and the moon paled in comparison to her beauty.
The woman narrowed her eyes and tilted her head back, prompting the man to blurt out, "Yingniang, you are so alluring..."
Unable to contain his emotions, he stopped addressing her as "Miss" and instead called her by her given name, Wang Yuyingli, specifically the "Ying" character.
Wang Yuying immediately smiled. When his father first took him in as a guard, he was only eight or nine years old and didn't know Mandarin at all. He had to learn it from scratch, but he always mispronounced a few words because of his local accent.
Even now, he still pronounces the word "妩媚" (wǔmèi, meaning charming or alluring) as "抚音" (fǔyīn, meaning to caress or soothe).
Wang Yuying had no intention of blaming the man, nor was she bothered to correct him. She didn't want to interrupt his tender caresses. He was a clean, strong, quick-witted, and studious body, and four years younger than her. Young man, his stamina was truly remarkable.
She simply lost herself completely and indulged herself to the fullest tonight.
Even the heavy rain outside the window seemed to turn cheerful.
The dark clouds on the outskirts of Beijing gradually moved into the city. The rain poured down on the top of the Taoist temple, and the sky gradually brightened, but the sky over the Forbidden City became darker and more gloomy. In the pouring rain, several bolts of lightning even flashed, accompanied by thunder.
In Kunning Palace, a young palace maid, who was keeping watch at the front gate, braved the rain to report: "His Majesty is here! Your Highness, His Majesty is here!"
The Empress's face lit up with joy upon hearing this. Seeing that the young palace maid was soaked through after running only this short distance, she couldn't help but ask, "Did Your Majesty bring an umbrella yourself?"
"yes!"
The Empress hurriedly waved her hand, telling the young palace maid to quickly leave so that His Majesty wouldn't see her. At the same time, she urged the palace servants nearby to quickly wipe away the water stains that the young palace maid had dripped on the blue bricks.
"Hurry, hurry!" the Empress said anxiously, her face darkening.
A dozen or so palace servants knelt down and hurriedly wiped the floor, finally restoring it to its original state before the emperor stepped into the hall.
"Your Majesty, I respectfully welcome you." The Empress and her palace attendants knelt by the door to greet you.
"No need for formalities." Emperor Xu Heng's voice was deep and gentle, quite captivating. He was also handsome, tall and slender, with deep-set brow bones, a straight nose, and gentle eyes on a broad jaw, making his face exceptionally elegant and refined, with a captivating charm.
The emperor is twenty-seven this year, which is more than twenty years old. He has become more mature and steady since he first ascended the throne.
Only after receiving permission did the Empress dare to straighten her knees and raise her head, stealing a glance at Xu Heng, her face immediately burning. Although they had been married for two years, every time she stole a look at the Emperor and met his deep brown eyes, she couldn't help but think of phrases like "sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes," "handsome man," and "a gentleman as jade."
That's a very apt description of His Majesty!
Unlike the Empress, Xu Heng was not preoccupied with many emotions. His expression was calm, with only a hint of guilt. The first and fifteenth of each month were the days to stay overnight in the Empress's palace. According to the rules, he should arrive before dark, but tonight he was discussing politics with Prime Minister Zheng and others and was late, not arriving until 9 PM, thus breaking his promise.
"I've kept the Empress waiting," he apologized softly.
The Empress immediately wanted to reply, "Your Majesty, state affairs are of utmost importance," but she was worried that the words "state affairs" would be misunderstood as interference in politics by the inner palace, so she pursed her lips and remained silent, simply curtsying.
"No need for formalities." Xu Heng raised his hand again.
The Empress stepped forward: "Your Majesty, I will assist you in changing your clothes."
Xu Heng nodded and spread his arms. The Empress first untied the red leather belt with jade buckles and saw that the Emperor's brocade robe was also stained with many raindrops. Alas, the Emperor once said that if he were to ride in a sedan chair to avoid the rain, his subjects would surely carry the sedan chair against the wind and get it soaked. How could such a monarch love his people?
Therefore, the heavier the rain, the more the emperor would hold an umbrella for himself, preferring to get wet himself.
The Empress was chosen by the Emperor to enter the inner palace because of her virtuous reputation before she was married. Therefore, she dared not say much, but secretly gave the palace servants a look, asking them to move the pot of charcoal that had been prepared for the Emperor closer.
This small change did not escape Xu Heng's notice. He smiled and said, "After the Dragon Boat Festival, you won't catch a cold. Put out the fire."
Don't waste charcoal.
"Yes," the Empress and the palace maids replied in unison.
Xu Heng added, "Only one corner of the robe is wet; it will be fine after airing it out."
The Empress then personally hung the brocade robe on the clothes rack.
"Your Majesty's boots and socks are all wet." She was about to help the emperor remove his boots, but Xu Heng waved his hand and said, "I'll do it myself."
As she spoke, she sat down on the chair against the wall, took off her boots and socks, and then brought the foot bath tub and towels to Xu Heng.
"Just leave it here," Xu Heng said calmly, wiping and washing himself. Thinking that the plum rain season was approaching and he should switch to wooden clogs, he realized he needed to change his socks too. Suddenly, he raised the corners of his lips, a smile appearing on his face for the first time since entering the hall. Without looking up, he said, "Yingniang, bring out my pair of crow-head socks."
The empress standing beside Xu Heng was taken aback. Her surname was Wei, her given name was Jing Shen, and her childhood name was Qiao Qiao. There was not a single trace of the character "Ying" in her.
The emperor summoned Wang Yuying, the deposed empress who had been expelled from the palace three years prior.
Xu Hengjiu did not hear a reply. He slowly raised his head and belatedly realized that he had called the wrong name. His heart skipped a beat.
A note from the author:
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