Elio’s Notes: The chapter title comes from Li Yu’s Yu Meiren: “The carved railings and jade steps should still remain; only the rosy face has changed.” Rosy face refers to human countenance or youthful beauty; the line sets enduring palace architecture against altered human presence.
In the end, Li Congjia still carried Resounding Spring home.
Along the way, he paid attention to almost nothing else. His mind was full of images he still found worth cherishing. He could remember with perfect clarity the two blood brothers who had once studied and spent their days side by side in childhood.
His elder brother had always liked catching Li Congjia by the wrist and examining it, casually praising its beauty. Even as a child, Li Congjia had disliked such descriptions.
For a woman, beauty was fortune. For a man, it was fate.
There was something predetermined in it. Worse still, Li Congjia had been born with a face people believed marked by destiny. The sage-king Shun was said to have possessed double pupils, and Xiang Yu too was rumored to have had them. Li Congjia’s single double-pupiled eye seemed to have marked him as different from birth.
Elio’s Notes: In traditional physiognomic legend, double pupils were associated with exceptional historical figures such as the sage-king Shun and the warlord Xiang Yu. The novel uses that tradition to explain why Li Congjia’s eyes carry such ominous political significance.
At first everything had been fine. When Li Hongji was born, he had truly been showered with affection. Near the end of the former Tang, a popular prophecy had circulated: “The carp of the Eastern Sea flies into Heaven.” Their founding emperor had deeply believed in prophetic signs. Another saying claimed, “A true man is in Ji Prefecture; he opens his mouth and bends the bow toward the left.” Thus the name Hongji had been bestowed.
Elio’s Notes: The novel links Li Hongji’s name to old chenwei-style prophetic sayings and character imagery. These were traditional political omen texts and riddling prophecies, not straightforward predictions in the modern sense.
It was only the name of a child, yet it plainly carried a lifetime of expectation. Li Hongji was meant to win the hearts of the people. He had been born into privilege, holding enormous affection securely in his hands. As the eldest son, becoming Crown Prince ought to have been perfectly proper and natural. Yet from childhood his disposition had been severe, his edge never hidden. After reaching adulthood and being sent to the front, he returned even more arrogant.
Li Congjia still remembered how Father Emperor often scolded Li Hongji, only to sigh privately after his son stormed away. Whatever else existed in the world, blood ties could still overpower reason. Father Emperor had been angry because Li Hongji exposed his sharpness too openly. Whether rebuke or banishment, every method was meant to frighten him into caution. In the end, Father Emperor was still trying to preserve his position as Crown Prince.
Unfortunately, Brother Hongji never understood. Every reprimand intended to protect him became, in his mind, evidence of favoritism and of Father Emperor’s weakness and pedantry.
When Li Congjia was still very young, Father Emperor would hold him upon his knee. He was said to recognize a thousand characters at three and recite the Hundred Schools at five. The child had already shown intelligence far beyond ordinary people. Added to his unusual appearance, attention throughout the imperial clan shifted almost instantly toward the Sixth Prince.
His world was still so small, yet he already had to face halls filled every day with silk and brocade, honey on every tongue and knives hidden behind every smile. Such was the human world, only more complicated among the imperial family than among ordinary households.
At the busiest center of Jinling lay Flower Market Street.
Walking home, Li Congjia suddenly remembered the Crown Prince mocking ordinary townspeople in childhood. Brother Hongji had been only a little over ten then. Whenever palace maids or eunuchs secretly slipped outside and returned with small trinkets, he regarded them with contempt.
Once, someone secretly brought back a handful of little yellow flowers plucked casually from the wild, perhaps intending to give them to a sweetheart unable to leave the palace. Li Congjia had loved the sight of those frail blossoms opening happily on their own. To his double-pupiled eye, they were wonderfully beautiful. His pale, slender fingertips brushed lightly across the tiny petals. Such pitiful little things could be crushed into mud beneath the next passing cart or horse, yet how completely they lived for themselves, lifting their faces toward the sunlight even if destruction waited in the next instant.
The young guard who had picked them became even happier when he saw his little master’s delight. Secretly he told Li Congjia how marvelous the city of Jinling was beyond the palace walls.
Li Congjia leaned against one of the palace’s deep corridors. Even at that age, his grace was impossible to hide. A single profile revealed refinement seemingly carved into his bones. He had been happily holding the little cluster of wildflowers.
Then footsteps approached before anyone had time to bow.
The flowers were snatched from Li Congjia’s hands. Li Hongji threw them onto the ground.
He pulled his Sixth Brother aside, shoving and dragging him away because he refused to watch Li Congjia touch such soft, pretty things. Li Hongji hated seeing how different they were.
That was his own younger brother.
Even though they had never resembled one another.
Perhaps Li Hongji himself did not understand. He mocked Sixth Brother. He could not bear Li Congjia’s delicate appearance or those wrists everyone called peerlessly beautiful.
Yet every bit of it rested upon the fact that Li Hongji had been looking upward from the beginning, placing himself in the mud and staring at a lotus blooming above.
Li Hongji refused to admit it, but neither could he deny it.
He could never become someone that clear and beautiful. He did not possess Li Congjia’s gentle heart, nor the character of Tianshui Blue dyed by night rain. He did not even possess the so-called countenance of an emperor. How could Li Hongji possibly avoid fearing him?
Li Congjia was everything Li Hongji wanted to become, yet could never become because he could not control his own heart.
Now the Duke of Anding walked slowly home carrying an ancient guqin. His shadow fell across the street without gathering a speck of dust. Hongxiu hid at the far end of Flower Market Street. All she wanted was to admire him from a distance.
To admire a soul she could never touch.
Watching Li Congjia gradually disappear into the distance beneath the brilliant Jiangnan spring sunlight suddenly made Hongxiu unbearably sad. She remembered that night at the Han Residence when they had passed one another.
Everyone was skilled at living behind masks. But no matter how exquisite the mask, no matter how completely it covered heaven and earth, it could never conceal one’s own heart. The few crimson petals brushed down by Li Congjia’s sleeve might already have become spring mud. They protected no flower. Yet the red sandalwood fragrance they caught while drifting through the air had intoxicated an entire city of blossoms.
Better to wither to death upon the branch than spend forever longing for him.
Li Congjia belonged to no one.
“Hong’er!”
The call struck like thunder from a clear sky. Hongxiu did not even need to turn around to know who had followed her.
“Brother Shui.” She stopped but did not look at him. Everything around her had already tangled her thoughts into unbearable confusion, and now Brother Shui had come to make matters worse.
A-Shui had sobered up, returned home, and changed into clothing that was at least clean. By coincidence, wages had been distributed at the yamen that day. For the first time, A-Shui did not immediately take his pay to a tavern. Instead, he remembered the new shop in the eastern market selling women’s powder and ornaments. His encounter that day had filled him with excitement. The Duke of Anding had actually promised to help him pursue official success. This was enormous news. A-Shui intended to prepare himself properly for the autumn examinations. Once he fulfilled his wish, Hong’er could finally escape her suffering. In his joy, he spent everything he had on a jade hairpin for Hongxiu.
It was not particularly valuable, but he held it tightly in his hand the entire way, thinking about how he could give it to her. Then, turning into the street, he truly encountered Hongxiu on her way to check her dance costume.
Delight immediately filled A-Shui’s face.
Yet when he actually reached Hongxiu, all that excitement turned to stammering. He cared about her too much. Every word had to be handled with impossible caution. He called her name and hurried over, only to find worry covering that charming face.
“Hong’er, what happened?” A-Shui could least bear seeing Hongxiu unhappy. In his anxiety, he instinctively reached to take her hand, just as he had in childhood. The movement was almost second nature. Whenever he heard crying through the wall of the neighboring courtyard back then, he knew Hong’er was being scolded again. Her mother had exhausted herself trying to keep the widowed household alive. When she could no longer bear the pressure, she sometimes struck her daughter simply to vent her misery. The reasons were often incomprehensible, and as a child Hongxiu had hated her mother deeply.
But the sleeve Hongxiu wore today was no longer something A-Shui could casually catch. She still wanted to fly toward higher branches. How could she allow him to bind her?
Hongxiu shook him off and glared. “Brother Shui, conduct yourself properly.” Her words were cold. On an ordinary day she might have gathered herself and persuaded him calmly. Today she had no patience left. Her heart was already overflowing with worries she could not resolve. Having to deal with A-Shui as well left her exhausted.
“Is there something you need? If not, I am returning to the residence.” Hongxiu spoke with careless lightness.
“Wait… just wait… Ah!” In his hurry to take it out, A-Shui nearly dropped the hairpin. He caught it quickly, privately grateful that he had changed clothes before leaving. Otherwise Hong’er would complain again. She most hated seeing him disheveled and defeated. “This is for you.”
Hongxiu glanced at the object in his hand, a thin, long hairpin. A faint smile appeared, but only from helplessness. “Brother Shui, surely you know this is the one kind of thing I lack least today.” One glance told her its quality. It was likely among the cheapest hairpins sold at the new shop a few streets away.
His little wage could never buy fine jade. He would have been better off saving it to buy Aunt Fan a proper robe. The thought only made Hongxiu angrier. “Brother Shui, stop giving me things. I have never lacked these. Any piece of jewelry I own is worth three years of your patrol wages. Save your money and take care of Aunt Fan. Stop spending every day dreaming impossible dreams!” Her voice sharpened mercilessly.
A-Shui still looked full of expectation. Of course he knew she did not need jewelry, but this was his own secret. He intended the hairpin to become… a betrothal gift. Since the Duke of Anding had promised to help him succeed, official status now seemed almost within reach. Why not tell Hong’er now, so she could leave those people sooner?
“Hong’er, take it. Please take it…” A-Shui hurried after her, trying repeatedly to push the hairpin into her hand. Flower Market Street was crowded with passersby. Hongxiu could only step backward and dodge. A-Shui remained stubbornly lost inside the bright daydream he had created and failed to see her anger. The two struggled for some time until Hongxiu cried out in pain.
A-Shui looked down and saw a long red scratch across her soft hand where the pointed end of the hairpin had caught her. It had not bled yet, but the skin was clearly broken. He panicked and tried to rub the injury, only for Hongxiu to shove him away before he could touch her.
A-Shui staggered back. Hongxiu covered her hand, trembling with anger. “Brother Shui, why must you force me like this? You and I are no longer children. Men and women must observe propriety. Do you insist on humiliating me here in front of everyone?” She was truly out of patience. She knew how stubborn Brother Shui became once his temper fixed upon something. His mind had not changed at all since childhood. She used to tease him then, asking what all his books were for when one moment he understood everything and the next understood nothing.
How could she know that everything A-Shui did was for her? He blamed his own uselessness for what happened to her. If he had possessed the ability to help when her mother died, Hongxiu would never have been sold into a performance house to learn her trade. If, after she entered the pleasure quarters, he had earned official status sooner and redeemed her, Hongxiu would not still be moving between powerful households today, forcing smiles for others.
Had he become worthy of those silken phoenix eyes sooner, would everything have been different?
A-Shui’s mistake was that he had always stubbornly lived inside a world created entirely in his own mind. That world contained only his feelings for her. Everything else had disappeared.
“Hong’er, don’t be angry… I… I was wrong…” Hongxiu refused to waste another word. She hid her hand in her sleeve and turned away quickly, only for A-Shui to continue calling after her.
He shouted loudly enough for an entire street to turn and look.
Hongxiu hurried through crowded Flower Market Street. Her long gauze skirt could not endure such dragging movement. Soon the layers tangled around her feet, and exhaustion overtook her body. Her heart was even more exhausted.
She truly felt as though she might collapse.
She could not stop thinking of that man. Day and night, she seemed unable to escape the blue-green figure. Again and again, she smelled red sandalwood.
Before leaving the residence that day, she had even gone almost mad and gathered every kind of incense she could find. She ignored the precious ones and chose only those with the strongest, most aggressive fragrance, burning them all at once until her room was saturated.
It had done nothing. Ever since passing Li Congjia that night, Hongxiu had been unable to wash away the scent of red sandalwood. Her hands had originally drawn Han Xizai’s attention precisely because of the lovely posture with which she tended incense. Now she could no longer concentrate. Since that night, her mind had become divided. Again and again she remembered the dark flower-lined corridor and the figure walking through blossoms and willow branches, his outline so light he seemed capable of riding the wind away at any moment.
Li Congjia.
The three syllables lingered slowly over her tongue. Apart from secretly speaking his name inside her heart, the only connection she would ever possess with him in this lifetime was that she had been ordered to take his life.
Days of guilt and pressure had driven Hongxiu’s mood to its limits. Now Brother Shui, an old neighbor from childhood, had dragged at her and scratched the hand she relied upon most. If someone asked what had happened, how would she explain?
Everything seemed determined to drive her mad. The weight pressed down from every direction, while behind her someone continued shouting.
Hong’er. Hong’er.
Hongxiu spun around and shouted back at him. Anger stripped away every trace of her usual charm. “Hong’er died long ago!”
A-Shui froze. Tears filled her eyes.
Hongxiu covered her face. “Stop… following me…” In the most prosperous market street of Jinling, she suddenly looked as though she had lost the entire world.
What was she supposed to do?
A-Shui slowly approached. Seeing her devastated expression made his heart ache. He knew something terrible must have happened to Hongxiu.
At this moment, she looked extraordinarily fragile, as though she had finally reached the point where she could no longer endure and at last allowed all her helplessness to escape.
“It’s all right, Hong’er.” A-Shui put an arm around her shoulders, comforting her as though she were once again the eight-year-old girl whose eyes already promised the beauty and allure they would one day hold.
Passersby in the distance covered their mouths and smiled. To them this was nothing more than another young lady losing her temper, quarreling with her lover, then making peace.
What a beautiful and comforting moment.
Five years had passed. At last A-Shui could touch her again.
Looking at every person who passed, A-Shui secretly wanted to tell them, Look. All of you are witnesses.
Flower Market Street.
Broad and endless, mist over green water, pampered young men and melancholy poets coming and going for pleasure; horses and carriages flowing together, beautiful youths and pleasure-seeking patrons, entertainers and famous performers competing in charm, arriving without end.
Elio’s Notes: The source compresses several pleasure-quarter and entertainment terms into this cityscape, including fashionable young men, pleasure-seeking patrons, entertainers, and celebrated performers. The translation keeps that social texture without recasting it as modern nightlife.
Such was Jinling, a mortal world made for intoxication.
Hongxiu closed her eyes quietly inside A-Shui’s embrace. His chaotic appearance had finally broken something open in her. She abandoned every effort at concealment and simply allowed herself to relax.
Suddenly she wanted to cry. Perhaps after carrying too much pressure for too long, the moment one finally released oneself, tears became easy.
That day Hongxiu seemed to return to the age of eight. In the dream, endless flowers and layered palace towers remained trapped inside someone’s palm. The curves of that palm had no sharp edges, yet they wrapped around her so tightly she could never escape. Not even death would help.
Every thread fitted perfectly. She would always be a puppet manipulated by another hand.
Pale smoke rose behind her and vanished into water without a trace.
Was he a demon?
Was he the hidden demon in every human heart?
Hongxiu had always believed that person must be Li Hongji. Even though he stood beneath only one man and above ten thousand, he would never truly give sincere feeling to a singing girl who happened to possess his favor.
Yet Hongxiu had still wanted to convince herself that the Crown Prince was the one controlling her heart.
Today she finally understood.
Li Hongji did not possess such secretly seductive lines upon his palm. Even his breathing seemed made of light. He wanted ten thousand people to look up at him. Jinling and the blue heavens alike had to rest inside his hand.
He would stop at nothing. He believed power was the most important thing in the world. Possess power, and one could control people.
Li Congjia was different. He bewitched human hearts. Every lift of his wrist inspired admiration and worship, and he never needed to fight for either.
The realization filled Hongxiu with despair unlike anything she had felt before. She drew a deep breath and slowly lifted her head from A-Shui’s embrace. “Brother Shui.”
Hongxiu had regained her composure. Then she saw the hairpin still clenched stubbornly in his hand. She smiled with unexpected relief. “Brother Shui. Give it to me.”
She extended her hand gracefully. The long red scratch still marked the left one. Yet her expression was extraordinarily light as she quietly accepted the unremarkable hairpin.
Sadness showed in her eyes. “Brother Shui. Don’t blame me.” She looked at the same shabby face the years had not changed, still carrying the self-importance of a scholar, yet distorted by life until it no longer resembled what it once had. “Do the words you said before still count? You said you would obtain official rank and come marry me.”
A-Shui froze completely. He had never imagined Hongxiu would suddenly change her attitude. There was no time to think. He nodded desperately. He had spoken those words as a vow and would never betray them in this life.
Warmth rose faintly inside Hongxiu. For an instant, she seemed again like the little girl she had once been. She tilted her head, swept her long hair aside, and carefully inserted the hairpin diagonally into her hair.
She smiled brightly, genuinely happy from the bottom of her heart. “Does it look good?” A-Shui nodded so hard his head nearly shook loose, sincerity filling his eyes.
After everything, Hongxiu was happy that at least one person still remembered Hong’er of Green Willow Lane. She had sworn she would rather die than ever set foot there again. Yet at the very end, she still remembered that alley.
“Brother Shui, when we were children, you told me that a man’s ambitions should reach in every direction and that no matter what happened, you had to accomplish something with your life. Consider this a promise you made to me. You must fulfill it.” Her tone was unusually resolute.
A-Shui did not think deeply about it. He was simply happy and solemnly promised her.
Hongxiu smiled and waved. “Brother Shui, I have to go back. Remember. When you obtain official status one day, come and marry me.”
A-Shui found her sudden brightness strange. He reached out, intending to wipe away the last tear still clinging to her cheek, but Hongxiu had already turned away.
His fingers passed slowly beside the gold-edged crimson fabric of her robe.
“Hong’er…” He called her again without thinking.
For once, Hongxiu turned immediately and smiled. “What is it?”
“Nothing… nothing…”
The woman walked away with a lightness that seemed almost like release. She felt as though she could finally fly.
Since childhood, Hongxiu had regarded A-Shui as a familiar, natural presence. She always remembered him and hoped his life might become better, but she had never truly loved him.
Love was too heavy a word. Back then they had only been children. Brother Shui had sworn confidently that he would become the top scholar and return to marry her.
She seemed to remember asking him something else after that, but too many years had passed. The details had faded until only the broken roof of that old home remained.
Whenever it rained, dampness soaked through the entire house. Even the finest robes would have been impossible to wear there, much less the few coarse garments she actually owned.
Now Hongxiu possessed everything she had once envied as a child. Her fingers lightly brushed dust from her sleeve.
The final tear fell into the mud beside her feet.
Many years later, Jinling would fall. Jiangnan would remain warm. Yet a red plum tree would bloom like blood.
Hongxiu had made her decision.