Elio’s Notes: The title, 忙杀看花人, is the final line of Li Yu’s Wang Jiangnan: A Distant Idle Dream (《望江南·闲梦远》). The lyric imagines the southern land in spring with music over the river, drifting willow catkins, and crowds hurrying out to admire the flowers.
Half a month later. Mist spread across the Qinhuai as painted pleasure boats rang with song and dance, unchanged beneath the light breeze, trembling dew, and soft, languorous music.
In the north, all one could see was windblown sand. The little bridges and flowing waters beneath Jiangnan’s eaves could hardly comprehend the soaring spirit of those desolate northern frontiers.
Who could have known that Heaven would grieve for a man of great ambition?
Chai Rong’s old leg wound had torn open again from the exhaustion of successive days on campaign. It was now midsummer, and on the march he had gone without proper sleep day and night just like his generals and soldiers. The wound became contaminated and began to fester.
Zhao Kuangyin had already tried to dissuade him, but the Emperor stubbornly endured for several more days without allowing word to spread. His condition worsened until a high fever would not subside. The Zhou army had pursued victory all the way north, and when Chai Rong finally saw Yingzhou almost within reach, the pain in his leg became impossible to endure. He lost consciousness outright and fell from his horse. Fortunately, Zhao Kuangyin reacted quickly, immediately had the Emperor carried into the imperial carriage, and forbade anyone from spreading the news.
Only when the imperial physicians arrived did they discover that the fever had already persisted for several days. The wound had not been properly cleaned in time, and the situation was exceptionally grave. Under such circumstances, there was absolutely no possibility of His Majesty continuing to supervise the campaign. The Emperor remained conscious and urgently summoned Zhao Kuangyin to receive his command, ordering him to lead the three armies and take Yingzhou at all costs.
That meant Zhao Kuangyin would inevitably hold complete military authority. If he won, even saying that his achievements overshadowed his sovereign would not be an exaggeration, proof enough of the Emperor’s trust. Zhao Kuangyin said nothing unnecessary and departed in obedience to the decree. Compared with making repeated displays of false modesty, taking Yingzhou as the foundation for an advance on Youzhou was the true larger objective.
By the time the seventeen counties, Three Passes, and three prefectures formerly held by Liao had been completely recovered, Li Congjia was testing incense at Minister Han’s residence. Fragrant woods lay arranged throughout Gui Hall. Li Congjia lightly raised a finger, and a short piece of dark material dropped into the water with a soft splash, slowly sinking.
“Freshly delivered agarwood.” Han Xizai stood beside him. A thought suddenly occurred to Li Congjia. “Has Minister Han ever seen any particularly unusual sandalwood from foreign lands?” The question immediately made Han Xizai laugh. “When it comes to sandalwood, this old minister would never dare compare knowledge with Your Highness. Can there truly be some rare sandalwood beneath heaven that Your Highness does not recognize?”
Li Congjia laughed as well. “The Zhou household sent over something unusual that I truly have never encountered. Its fragrance is very distinctive. I noticed the Princess Consort has been wearing it constantly, so perhaps she likes it. I searched for some time but could not find anything similar.”
Han Xizai did not inquire further. “This old minister will keep an eye out. If I come across any unusual fragrant wood, I will certainly send it to the Eastern Palace.”
Li Congjia waved a hand. “It only occurred to me suddenly. There is no need to trouble yourself.”
Han Xizai strolled closer and picked up the small jade bowl, gently swirling it and observing that the agarwood’s color remained unchanged. As they chatted, he said, “Incense too has its own properties. If two substances that conflict with one another are placed together, not only will they fail to calm the spirit, they may instead bring on illness.” Li Congjia was holding a piece of wood over the flame. Before long, the rich scent of superior agarwood spread through the room. “Bitter and pungent. It truly is excellent.” Han Xizai poured some wine. “Although this old minister spends his days idling and accomplishing very little, I am still reasonably well informed. Will the Prince of Wu not soon have to negotiate with envoys from the northern court?”
Li Congjia took the slightest sip of wine, then suddenly put it down. “I no longer drink Qinghuan.”
Han Xizai accepted the porcelain cup and looked steadily at him before finally shaking his head. “Your Highness carries too much within your heart. To live this way is far too burdensome.” Naturally, he meant the old matters Li Congjia could not put down. In struggles within the imperial family, countless sacrifices were hardly unusual. The dead could not return to life. Grief for a time was inevitable, but someone who remained unable to let go for years was poorly suited to occupy a high position and steady the storms of state.
Whenever Li Congjia saw Qinghuan, too many things returned to him. The harder he tried not to think about them, the more stubbornly they lodged within his heart. His sigh was long. “In the end, I am not someone truly capable of transcendence. Never mind. Since Minister Han has brought up affairs of state, do you have some advice for me?”
Han Xizai drank while considering his reply. “The territories lost north of the river are extremely important. The Zhou Emperor can be called an enlightened ruler, and in lands acquired through conquest he will certainly seek first to win the people’s hearts. That is precisely where the opportunity lies for salt transport and other trade.” The matter was neither especially difficult nor especially easy. The ceded territories now rendered tribute to the superior court and no longer belonged to the southern kingdom. Jiangnan should not maintain excessive contact and rekindle old loyalties among the populace, but cutting all ties completely could produce the opposite effect and would also cost the south a great amount in commercial taxes.
In short, the proper measure rested entirely in Li Congjia’s hands. Whether the negotiations succeeded or failed, countless eyes throughout court and country were watching him. Restoring trade between Jiangnan and the lands north of the river carried enormous significance, and for Li Congjia personally, it would also determine whether he received the title of Crown Prince.
Li Congjia watched the incense ash gradually cool and stirred it with a golden implement. The lingering fragrance remained. It truly was exceptional. “Whether I become Crown Prince genuinely means nothing to me. I simply do not wish to see Father disappointed again.” He said the final sentence just as quietly, without any deliberate emphasis. Han Xizai watched him from the side, his expression sorrowful.
Li Congjia knew he was worried. “Father is somewhat unwell today. Minister Han should enter the palace and visit him.” He knew Han Xizai possessed a heart full of ambitions yet had withdrawn while still in the prime of life, surely because early setbacks had left their own knot within him. Li Congjia smiled faintly. “Father has actually always thought of Minister Han.”
Han Xizai looked at him in his usual clothes today, pale colors flowing around him as he continued smiling with serene ease, idly playing with the gold-painted, jade-ribbed fan in his hand. Li Congjia might appear gentle and refined, as though incapable of bearing the slightest hardship, yet inside he understood things more clearly than almost anyone.
There were simply many things Li Congjia did not wish to say, because saying them would accomplish nothing. It was not that he failed to understand. Rather, because he understood too much, he had lost the strength even to be startled by it. Born at the center of power, unable to know peace by day or night, anxiety belonged only to those encountering such things for the first time. After enough years, one instead became calm as though nothing had happened. The one sorrow was that Li Congjia had never become numb. Had he become numb like Han Xizai himself, then after long enough nothing would truly enter his heart anymore. But Li Congjia still possessed a heart of pure sincerity, and so he remained stubbornly capable of believing in the cleanest forms of human feeling. If this continued, the burdens within his heart would have nowhere to go. He was still not someone who could truly transcend them.
After a long silence, Han Xizai finally said, “If Your Highness continues this way, you will inevitably make yourself suffer.”
Li Congjia still smiled faintly, his double pupils deep and settled like ink. “If I truly were capable of that, it would be a blessing. Unfortunately, I am no embodiment of bodhi and cannot deliver all living beings. The Li Congjia Father imagines is far greater than the real one.” Han Xizai still wanted to say something, but Li Congjia stopped him with a sweep of his sleeve. “If Minister Han means to console me, there is no need. Father expects so much only because he has endured too much despair. Elder Brother Hongji’s death struck him far too deeply. He never says so, but I understand.”
Elio’s Notes: Bodhi (菩提) means awakening or enlightenment in Buddhism. Li Congjia’s phrase also invokes the Buddhist ideal of “delivering all sentient beings” (普度众生), here used self-deprecatingly to reject the almost salvific expectations others place upon him.
Han Xizai’s gaze grew distant. In certain respects, Li Congjia and his father were the same kind of person. Li Hongji, unfortunately, had not been.
“I do not necessarily want to prove anything. I simply do not wish to see Father disappointed again. So…” Li Congjia brushed the ash from his hands. “I might as well try.”
When he left the residence and headed back toward the Eastern Palace, Li Congjia heard Piaopeng report the news that had arrived from the north. The Zhou army had originally intended to press directly toward Youzhou, but the Zhou Emperor’s old illness had suddenly flared, forcing the army to withdraw south to Bianjing.
Li Congjia calculated carefully. Recovering seventeen counties, the Three Passes, and three prefectures in only a little over a month could certainly be called a great victory. The weather had turned somewhat stifling today. Piaopeng lightly lifted the soft curtain and hooked it into place with the golden clasp. Raising his eyes, Li Congjia saw the wooden upper stories of Shengding House.
Li Congjia instinctively drew his hand back. The sandalwood bracelet rested against his skin, dampened slightly by sweat.
“The Zhou Emperor’s old illness returned? Then the military authority…”
Piaopeng played idly with the hanging golden clasp and did not think much of it. “Naturally, someone else had to command the army. There are rumors that…” His eyes shifted and his voice dropped. “They say trouble began while they were taking the three prefectures. The imperial carriage remained behind on the road. Whoever commanded the troops this time can certainly be said to have achieved enough to overshadow his sovereign.”
Li Congjia said nothing. Piaopeng, however, had become interested. “They say it was some General Zhao. I only overheard a sentence or two while idle. Supposedly, the Liao troops retreat a hundred li merely upon hearing his name. He must be no ordinary man.”
Li Congjia smiled faintly. No ordinary man? Perhaps.
A man who could leap from a high tower with him truly was no ordinary man. Piaopeng secretly watched his expression. “They will probably begin discussing the trade agreement within a few days. Your Highness must be exceedingly careful.”
Several days later, the sound of strings was unceasing within the Eastern Palace.
Nüying was happily teasing the fish in the pond beneath the corridor. Li Congjia had been entering the palace even more frequently these past few days, yet remained worried about Ehuang’s illness. Since Nüying was willing to come and play music with her elder sister to help ease her spirits, he had agreed.
Lotus leaves flourished across the pond in the courtyard, making its depth impossible to judge. Only near the bank, beneath the shallow jade steps, could one occasionally see fish swimming through the spreading water, clever and beautiful. Nüying was delighted at once and brought over some crumbs of pastry to feed them.
Seeing the fish continue circling nearby, she happily crouched down without noticing that the hem of her green gauze robe had fallen into the water. She had been playing for some time when Liuzhu happened to pass and laughed at her. “Second Young Lady has certainly become playful. Wait until you stand up and discover you’ve turned into a phoenix fallen into the water.” Nüying stuck out her tongue. Then, seeing a faint rouge-colored figure in the distance, she called, “Elder Sister is here.” Liuzhu immediately stopped teasing and ran over to support Ehuang. “It’s time for your medicine.”
Ehuang frowned. “I’m much better…” Before she could finish, she saw Liuzhu’s resolute expression. “The Princess Consort’s medicine must be taken three times a day, on time. His Highness ordered it.” Helpless, Ehuang could only nod. “Fine. Sometimes I wonder whose maid you actually are. His words certainly carry weight.”
Seeing Nüying rising nearby, Liuzhu smiled. “It’s good for the Princess Consort and Second Young Lady to walk around here together. I’ll go bring the medicine.” With that, she turned and left.
Ehuang approached and saw crumbs still clinging to Nüying’s fingers, while the fine mist-silk of her robe was stained dark where water had soaked into it. Affection grew even more obvious in Ehuang’s eyes. Nüying was still a child after all, though now she had grown so delicate and charming. “Doesn’t the pond at home have koi as well? Why… ah…”
Her lotus-colored embroidered shoe accidentally stepped upon a thin patch of water beside the pond, left behind where Nüying’s skirt had dragged. Ehuang immediately lost her balance. She had already been weak internally and mentally unsettled throughout her illness, and after being drenched by the storm on Phoenix Terrace, she had burned with fever for an entire night. Now, with no one supporting her, she suddenly began sliding toward the pond.
Nüying hurriedly reached out and caught her elder sister. In that instant, Ehuang hung at the edge of the pond. Beneath the shadowed lotus leaves, stems and water were difficult to distinguish, while the hem of her rouge-colored skirt drifted into the water by the slightest margin.
For that briefest instant, Ehuang could hardly believe her own eyes. A cold light abruptly flashed through Nüying’s gaze, utterly unlike that of a girl in her tender youth. Her hand was still holding Ehuang’s. But her fingers loosened slightly.
Nüying looked at her and suddenly called, “Elder Sister.” Yet the weakening of her fingers became more obvious. Let go or hold on? If that peony fell into the water, would she still remain brilliant enough to topple a kingdom? Nüying did not know how deep the pond was, nor what consequences might follow. It was only an instant of darkness surging through her heart. If you were gone, would I too become Heaven’s favored child, surrounded by everyone’s adoration?
Footsteps approached rapidly from one side.
Ehuang quickly went cold to the bone with terror and began struggling, screaming aloud. Suddenly Nüying tightened her grip and forcefully tried to pull her upright, but the ground beneath both of them was wet and slippery, and she herself could barely stand.
“Ehuang!” A familiar voice cried urgently from nearby, like salvation cleaving through everything. The rouge-colored figure thought of nothing but escape and stumbled frantically toward the newcomer. Ehuang shoved Nüying away with all her strength and staggered toward him.
The scent of red sandalwood abruptly struck her, only throwing everything around her into greater confusion. Ehuang continued screaming in terror as countless images twisted and tangled before her eyes. The inescapable fragrance, the murderous coldness magnifying in Nüying’s gaze. What was she trying to do?
What was she trying to do?
A splash sounded behind her. Another disturbance erupted within the Eastern Palace. Li Congjia watched Nüying fall directly into the pond from Ehuang’s desperate shove.
In truth, the pond was nowhere near as frightening as it appeared. Nüying merely swallowed some water. Once she was pulled out completely soaked, the wind immediately made her shiver. Li Congjia had only just returned and had walked straight into this scene. With no time to consider anything else, he gathered Ehuang into his arms, though he had no idea what had happened.
The servants hurriedly brought brocade robes, wrapped Nüying tightly, and carried her into the inner chambers while sending for an imperial physician. Ehuang, meanwhile, remained in the throes of what appeared to be another attack, seemingly terrified beyond reason and unable to stop crying. “Ehuang?” Li Congjia tried repeatedly to soothe her and calm her first, but after a long while she showed no improvement. He could only carry her back to the sleeping chambers, administer her medicinal decoction, and let her sleep.
Nüying watched him ignore how Elder Sister, nearly beside herself, shoved wildly at his dragon-patterned official robe. He paid no attention to her loosened hair or the complete disappearance of her usual elegance. He only continued softly calling her name. Countless emotions spread through those deep eyes, yet unfortunately every single one of them only made Nüying colder.
Terrified servants crowded around Nüying and hurried her into the hall. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, yet she only watched him carry Ehuang away.
Even if the peony withers, you still refuse to turn around and look.
She remembered the sachet she had sewn with her own hands and tied at her elder sister’s waist, and suddenly laughed through her tears. Everyone assumed she had been frightened by accidentally falling into the water and repeatedly comforted her while summoning the imperial physician. It was not very long, yet to Nüying it felt like an entire lifetime before Li Congjia finally came to see her. He was worried after all. Fortunately, the pond had been too shallow for her to drown. She had merely fallen in and been badly frightened.
He had still hurried over, without even changing out of his official robes. “What exactly happened?”
Tears still glimmered at the corners of Nüying’s eyes. She merely shook her head. Her pale face made her look even more frail and helpless. “I was feeding fish beside the pond. Elder Sister saw me and came over. Who knew the edge of the pond would be slippery? She lost her footing, so I hurried to catch her. But for some reason Elder Sister suddenly began screaming and pushed me away. I couldn’t keep my footing, and then…” The more she spoke, the more helpless she sounded. Li Congjia could only sit beside her. Seeing that Nüying was still trembling, he reached out and tucked the brocade quilt securely around her. “Your elder sister has been unwell lately. When something frightens her, her mind becomes confused. It was not your fault.”
He knew what Ehuang was like whenever one of those attacks came upon her. She had probably been startled and failed to recognize who stood before her, pushing Nüying away without knowing what she was doing and causing her to fall into the water. Guilt stirred within Li Congjia. Nüying was still young, a Second Young Lady raised at home amid brocade and fine food. When had she ever endured something like this? His tone immediately softened. Trying to coax her, he picked up a bronze mirror for her. “Let Brother-in-law apologize. Palace affairs have kept me too busy to look after everyone properly. Fortunately, you weren’t hurt. Look at yourself. Crying until your face is all blotchy won’t look pretty.”
Nüying truly stopped crying and stared fixedly into the mirror, though she was not looking at herself. She watched only the hand holding it, the unusually elegant line of his wrist bones. With each movement, the barely perceptible scent of red sandalwood in the air seemed to deepen. She breathed in greedily, almost feeling as though she could drown herself in it. Yet when she spoke, her tone was subdued. “Brother-in-law’s incense is very elegant. Nüying likes it too.”
Li Congjia looked puzzled. “Ehuang said you disliked this fragrance. Whenever you come, she changes it for something fresher.” He turned toward the warm ginger decoction a maid had just brought and reached out to take it, failing to notice the fleeting concealment in Nüying’s expression. “I…”
“That’s enough. Drink this and you’ll be fine.” Steam clouded his smiling eyes until they were difficult to see clearly, yet somehow seemed to stir endless ripples. Nüying hesitated and looked even more like a child. Li Congjia lightly blew across the surface. “Be good. Drink it slowly.”
As though bewitched, she accepted it and quietly drank one mouthful after another until the bowl was empty, warmth spreading from her fingertips all the way into her heart. “Brother-in-law…” Some strands of hair outside the quilt were still damp. Afraid the wet hair against her body would chill her, Li Congjia reached out to draw it free and lay it over the covers. His fingertips were slightly cool, without the slightest deliberate intention, yet Nüying’s tears began falling again.
“What is it? Why are you crying? Are you cold?”
It was the sound of a flower suddenly blooming. Nüying abruptly wanted to breathe in that red-sandalwood fragrance more deeply. Holding the jade bowl, she did not know what to do. She only wanted somehow to move closer to him. “Nüying is only… afraid that the hibiscus will wither.”
Li Congjia smiled. “It will bloom again next year.”
“What if next year is no longer the same as this year?”
Li Congjia did not answer, merely looked at her. Nüying’s expression had become extraordinarily composed, all the panic from falling into the water gone. She looked into his doubled pupils. “The peony is not the only flower capable of astonishing the world.”
Before he could reply, Liuzhu suddenly pushed through the door without regard for ceremony. “The Princess Consort is awake. She keeps calling for Your Highness…”
Li Congjia immediately rose. At that moment, barely a few inches separated his hand from Nüying’s. Caught completely off guard, Nüying let the jade bowl fall and shatter into pieces. Amid that sharp breaking sound, Li Congjia’s final words rang exceptionally clearly. Yet he left so decisively that even Liuzhu failed to listen carefully. “Unfortunately, spring is radiant and overflowing, and at first glance I saw only the peony in bloom.”
Among a thousand fragrant blossoms, some bloom too early and others too late. Only he and she had met at precisely the right moment, not the slightest bit too soon or too late.
Inside the sleeping chambers, Ehuang sat with her long hair loose. The moment she saw him arrive, she suddenly became calm.
“It’s good that you’re awake. Nüying is fine as well.” He did not want to mention that Ehuang had pushed Nüying into the water. He knew she would never have done such a thing while fully conscious. “What did you suddenly see?” There was always some trigger. Ehuang could not bear even the slightest shock.
Ehuang raised a hand and stroked the elegant contour of his face, but her voice was chillingly unfamiliar. “Congjia, tell me. Back when everyone said the Crown Prince intended to eliminate you to preserve his own position, if he truly had moved against you, what would you have done?”
Something flashed through his eyes. “What is it? Who mentioned those old matters to you?”
“Would you have fought him for it?” Her tone was unusually stubborn.
“You know I would not.”
Ehuang smiled sadly and leaned into his embrace. “If I told you that today I was never actually having an attack… would you believe me?”
“You also know that I believe you.”
“I almost wish I truly had lost my mind today and become hopelessly ill.” She wrapped herself around his neck with unusual force. “Whatever she wants, as her elder sister I would give it to her. Only… this one thing… I do not want to relinquish.”
“She is still young.”
“By the end of summer, she will be fourteen…”
He truly became angry and turned his face away, refusing to look at her. Ehuang buried herself against him and laughed. “I do not want to… but I’m the same as you. Neither of us wants those closest to us torn apart.” Li Congjia suddenly understood something. He shook his head with a bitter smile. “Only now do I understand how the Crown Prince felt back then. Ehuang, what do you take me for? You say one sentence, ‘I do not want to.’ But what about me?” Back then, he had simply turned his back and withdrawn from everything because Li Congjia wanted no part in it. But what was Li Hongji supposed to think? What else could the Crown Prince have done? The young Duke of Anding had remained cold and detached, and so the world knew only that the Crown Prince was harsh and suspicious, unwilling even to spare his own younger brother.
Perhaps in the beginning, there had still been room to repair things between him and the Crown Prince.
Outside the window, the figure that had silently arrived there stood stricken with sorrow.
Ehuang remained frozen and silent. Li Congjia kissed her forehead. “It’s all right. Perhaps we really are thinking too much.” Before the sentence had even fully ended, someone suddenly rushed inside. Nüying had changed out of her soaked clothes and into one of Ehuang’s usual long dresses, which hung somewhat too long upon her.
Li Congjia had not expected her to appear so suddenly either. “Nüying…”
“I… I came to see Elder Sister. I didn’t expect…” Her face reddened, and she turned as though to run away. Then she suddenly caught the faint red-sandalwood fragrance within the room and hurried back toward the clothes rack at one side. Ehuang had no idea what she intended to do. Nüying merely reached out and fiercely tore away the sachet she normally fastened to her outer robe.
It was the sachet she herself had sewn for her elder sister. Today, she tore it away with her own hand.
“It was Nüying’s fault.” She hurried away.
The scenery outside remained much as yesterday, half a moat of spring water, a river of flowers, misty rain darkening a thousand homes.
Elio’s Notes: This sentence echoes Su Shi’s Northern Song Wang Jiangnan: Written at Chaoran Terrace (《望江南·超然台作》), making it an intentional anachronism. The received line reads 半壕春水一城花，烟雨暗千家, “half a moat of spring water, a whole city of flowers, misty rain darkening a thousand homes.” The novel’s source instead prints 一江花, “a river of flowers.” FD preserves the novel’s wording rather than silently correcting it.
Bianjing.
The Zhou army returned victorious to court. Triumphant music filled the entire city as ministers came out together to welcome the imperial carriage. Bright imperial yellow banners snapped along the avenue. Having returned victorious from personally leading the campaign, His Majesty rewarded the three armies before Xuande Gate.
An imperial edict descended. Before the upturned faces of the people, Zhao Kuangyin was ranked foremost in merit and appointed Honorary Grand Tutor.