The next morning, Li Congshan arrived outside the Buddhist hall at Guangliang Temple early and waited to request an audience with Li Yu.
The Young Elder happened to open the door and step out. Seeing that it was the Duke of Zheng, he smiled faintly. “The Ruler spent last night in the meditation room behind the temple and has not yet entered the hall. Does the Duke of Zheng have urgent business?”
Li Congshan paced back and forth. “The more I think about it, the more I feel the matter of Lin Renzhao must be resolved as soon as possible. If this drags on until he truly enters Bianjing, it will become an enormous problem.”
The Young Elder turned back to pull the wooden door shut, then slowly descended the stone steps. “Did the Ruler not already say yesterday that this matter must first be investigated? I imagine that decision will not change.”
Li Congshan looked even more anxious and muttered to himself, “I know Sixth Brother’s temperament. He looks as though he cares about nothing, but in truth he never listens to advice. Yesterday he simply suppressed the matter. If this really causes some terrible mistake… what are we supposed to do?”
Listening beside him, the Young Elder stepped slightly closer. “The Duke of Zheng need not worry so much. The Ruler’s meaning is already clear.”
Li Congshan refused to let it go. “No. This concerns the life or death of Jiangnan. I have to find a way to change the Ruler’s mind.”
Still wearing his gold-threaded kasaya, the Young Elder glanced at the sky. Li Yu would likely be coming to the Buddhist hall before long. “This monk should not speak too much about political affairs. It is only that the Ruler has been slightly unwell lately and came to Guangliang Temple to recuperate. What the Duke intends cannot change the Ruler’s mind through one person’s words alone. Why not return for now, discuss it with the other ministers, then submit another memorial? Perhaps if the advantages and dangers are laid out clearly, the matter may be different.”
Li Congshan considered this and found it genuinely sensible. Alone, he was unlikely to outstubborn Sixth Brother. Since childhood Li Yu had been especially favored by their father and raised within the palace. Though Li Congshan had not spent long periods with him, he knew this side of his temperament well enough. Going in today would probably produce nothing.
“Elder, your words make sense.”
The Young Elder lowered his head slightly and joined his palms. “The Ruler came to Guangliang Temple to withdraw for a time precisely because worry had exhausted him. It is enough that the Duke of Zheng knows this. Outsiders must never learn of it.”
Li Congshan nodded. The Ruler had looked normal yesterday, so he assumed it was nothing serious. “I must trouble the Elder to comfort him as well. In the end an imperial physician should still be summoned to treat the problem properly.” With that, he turned and hurried away.
The Young Elder casually scattered a few handfuls of grain behind the hall, giving the birds that struggled to find food in autumn a temporary lifeline. Nearby, young monks were sweeping the courtyard. Dead leaves accumulated quickly, and every gust of wind layered the ground with more decay.
As he stood distractedly watching those dead leaves, Li Yu slowly approached. The morning light was weak and his steps were gentle; only gradually did he make out the Young Elder’s silhouette. “If I have guessed correctly, Congshan was still refusing to let the matter go today.”
Hearing his voice, the Young Elder opened the wooden doors of the Buddhist hall for him. “The Ruler guessed correctly.”
Li Yu looked around but did not see Congshan. “Has he gone back?”
The Young Elder followed him inside. “When this monk left the hall, the Duke of Zheng had been standing there in agitation for a long while, then left on his own.” His tone was light, as though nothing about it were remarkable. Li Yu could only smile bitterly. Congshan had probably gone off to devise some other approach. “I told him to return to his fief. The journey north exhausted him, and I suppose his anger latched onto one matter and now he insists on forcing some result from it. Easier said than done.”
The Young Elder said nothing. Seeing Li Yu sigh, he watched the man in white kneel before the Buddha.
North of the Yangtze, within Xunfeng Gate of the capital, towering buildings had risen under imperial order after days of relentless construction. A magnificent complex seemed almost to have appeared from level ground. It was said to be a guest residence, yet timber, gold, stone, and jade interlaced throughout the buildings. Several feet of yellow silk screened the outside, and unauthorized people were forbidden to approach. Even from a distance no one could see what lay within. Townspeople occasionally whispered among themselves as artificial rocks, garden stones, and waterworks were continuously carried inside. The Emperor was known to despise extravagance, so this great burst of construction was truly unprecedented.
Besides, if the residence had been intended as a reward for some meritorious minister, it would never have possessed such a sensuous elegance. It clearly was no princely mansion, but a refined retreat built with painstakingly chosen stones, excavated pools, and artificial hills. The expense was astonishing, which only made the secrecy surrounding it more curious.
The exhausting construction continued day and night. Before long, idle townspeople began hiding at the ends of alleys to watch from afar. The furnishings being carried inside looked nothing like what Song people normally used in their homes. After turning the matter over in their minds, the spectators quickly reached conclusions of their own.
“This must be an imperial retreat. Flowers in spring, summer refuge from the heat, deer hunts in autumn, snow viewing in winter. Since ancient times, emperors have needed such pleasures for a life not to be wasted.” A white-haired elder sighed leisurely as he walked home along the street. A younger man nearby thought he had found the real explanation and chuckled. “Those rocks, trees, and flowers are not arranged in our usual style at all. In my view, all this effort must be for some peerless beauty. Perhaps His Majesty…” Lowering his voice, he whispered to the two or three people beside him, “Have you heard of Lady Huarui? They say she was the greatest beauty in Shu, and did she not enter the rear palace only recently? ‘No flower can match her color; only its heart may faintly describe her face.’ That skin like ice, those bones like jade…” The more he spoke, the more excited he became. He could not help looking again toward the dense buildings behind the sea of yellow silk. A tall pavilion seemed to rise above all the others, almost poised to fly into the heavens.
Inside the palace, Zhao Kuangyin insisted on leaving in common clothes with only a few attendants because he intended to personally inspect the newly built complex within Xunfeng Gate.
Some leaves had gathered along the corridor outside Zichen Palace. Yunjie merely pushed open a window and happened to see them. She did not care, but Ling’er, who was serving tea behind her, caught sight of one corner and immediately flushed with anger. “I said days ago that those lazy servants deserved a beating, but the Empress would not listen. Such a great central palace, yet so many dead leaves are piled beneath the corridor. If anyone saw…”
Yunjie turned and looked at her. Ling’er immediately shut her mouth.
Before the matter was finished, Ling’er set down the tea and headed out to find someone to clean properly. The moment she opened the door, however, she saw Wang Ji’en approaching Zichen Palace from afar with a helpless expression.
Ling’er found it strange that he would come here at all. He loved nothing more than flattering the Emperor to display his loyalty. Curling her lip, Ling’er nevertheless had no choice but to lead him in to see the Empress.
After paying respects to Yunjie, Wang Ji’en hurriedly explained why he had come. “His Majesty is determined to leave the palace secretly today and will not even allow carriages or horses to accompany him. The Chancellor believes that with war imminent, such an action is far too dangerous. He asks that the Empress persuade His Majesty otherwise.”
As he finished, Wang Ji’en prepared to bow again. He had not wanted to come in the first place, but Zhao Pu had worried over the matter again and again before devising this approach and ordering him to seek out the Empress. Perhaps she could still persuade him.
“Leave the palace? Why does His Majesty want to leave?” For a moment Yunjie could not imagine what could make Zhao Kuangyin so eager to go out at a time like this. Having lived deep in the palace for so long, she knew almost nothing of outside affairs. Ling’er, however, immediately cut in. The girl had clearly been holding this grievance for days and began speaking without restraint. “The Empress stays in Zichen Palace every day and has no idea what is happening outside. Not long ago His Majesty suddenly ordered a magnificent complex built inside Xunfeng Gate. Rumors have been everywhere for some time. They say its whole atmosphere does not resemble our dynasty’s style at all, and everyone says it is being built for Lady Huarui from Shu.”
Wang Ji’en could not help barking quietly, “Ling’er!”
Yunjie said nothing. After a long while, she spoke. “Ling’er, continue.”
Ling’er glanced at Wang Ji’en’s vicious expression and lowered her voice further. “I said from the beginning that the mistress of Huanfang Palace does not understand the rules… She has been here so many days and still has not come to Zichen Palace to pay respects to the Empress… Does anyone in this palace even remember…?”
“Your Majesty, do not listen to idle palace gossip.” Wang Ji’en immediately cut her off. “His Majesty is indeed going to Xunfeng Gate today. He merely said there are certain matters there he cannot leave unattended and insists on inspecting them himself. That is why the Chancellor asks the Empress to offer a word of remonstrance. Perhaps His Majesty may change his mind.” Wang Ji’en had to maintain a respectable explanation. He was telling Yunjie not to think too much, yet if this complex truly served some vital state purpose that required frantic construction day and night, Chancellor Zhao would hardly have sought someone from the rear palace to talk the Emperor out of visiting it.
Yunjie understood something of the situation. Through the window she stared at the fallen leaves on the ground. “His Majesty certainly will not listen to anything I say. The Chancellor has truly sought the wrong person.”
Wang Ji’en had never really expected her to succeed and had come only because he was required to. He stopped pressing the matter. As Yunjie saw him prepare to leave, she added, “Tell the Chancellor not to worry too much either. Imperial intentions are difficult to read. I imagine… His Majesty must know his own limits. Besides, no one has ever been able to change his mind.”
Wang Ji’en withdrew.
Zhao Kuangyin rode into Xunfeng Gate. He had expected his close ministers to object fiercely to his going out like this. Yet for days he had given detailed instructions that every feature of the buildings and gardens had to follow the image in his mind. Now that construction was nearly complete, he still could not feel at ease. Everything had been conveyed only through words, and he feared it would not match what he remembered.
What exact air should the place possess? Unless Bianjing’s craftsmen had seen it with their own eyes, there would inevitably be some deviation. That was why he had to come personally.
Pavilions, terraces, waterside halls, rare flowers, strange plants, every detail had to pass before his own eyes before he could relax. He did not want mere extravagance. He wanted a soul.
Something that could haunt the heart and dreams. If it could truly be rebuilt, perhaps that too would count as comfort.
Looking up at the tallest pavilion, Zhao Kuangyin found it very close to what he remembered from that day and finally felt slightly reassured. Yet when the thought first arose, even he had despised himself. One day, he too had come to understand what it meant to feel restless.
At first there had been only anger. But matters had already reached this point, and an arrow once loosed could not return to the bow. Rumor of what Zhao Kuangyin intended had spread beneath heaven. There was no longer any reason for longing. In the end, you were the one who angered me.
Yet late at night, it was not that he did not miss him.
At night in that place, distant bell tones stretched endlessly over a city glowing brilliant red-gold before everything finally faded into a strand of pale blue-green. He still remembered the moist fragrance carried on the wind there. Zhao Kuangyin understood neither painting nor calligraphy, nor the jeweled phrases of poets and scholars. He had merely stumbled upon a flourishing age once, and now he was going to destroy its music with his own hands.
He only hoped you might feel a little more at peace, even the slightest comfort. Truly, even the smallest fragment of comfort would be enough.
Zhao Kuangyin personally inspected the direction of a water channel. In his memory it should have flowed out toward the north, but outside Xunfeng Gate on the northern side stood an ancient cedar a thousand years old, protected by a stone marker, so the craftsmen had diverted the channel west on their own.
He continued inspecting every detail until he reached the courtyard and frowned. “This water should flow north.” His tone allowed no argument. The craftsman accompanying him immediately dropped to his knees. “Your Majesty, if the water is sent north, it must pass through the ground occupied by the ancient cedar outside the gate. That is why we had no choice but to alter the course slightly.”
“I said north. Go order them to dig the channel again.” The sharpness of imperial authority suddenly showed in his bearing, terrifying the man into trembling on his knees. Only after a long while did he manage to speak. “Your Majesty… that cannot be done. The ancient cedar outside Xunfeng Gate took a thousand years to grow. There is no other like it beneath heaven…”
“I think you are the one who is impossible to find in a thousand years. Do you know that I greatly dislike saying the same thing twice?”
“But… the ancient cedar…”
“Cut it down.”
The man immediately panicked. The attendants nearby could no longer remain silent either. Having no other choice, one stepped forward and reported in a low voice, “Your Majesty, this situation truly cannot be helped. That cedar was not planted there carelessly by people of the past. It has deep origins.”
Zhao Kuangyin raised a brow and looked at him. “Continue.”
“Tradition says that Zhu, the seventh ruler of the Xia, moved his capital to Laoqiu. High ground was mountain, low ground water. Outside Xunfeng Gate there was no mountain to form a protective rear, breaking the fengshui, so a cedar was planted there, using wood to overcome metal and hold the scattered dragon energy in place. Today only this one thousand-year cedar remains. Through every dynasty it has been forbidden to move it.”
Zhao Kuangyin laughed. “Now that I am the true Son of Heaven, why should I fear tales of dragon veins and dragon energy? In those days everyone believed so deeply in the prophecies of the Tui Bei Tu. And now you are afraid of one mere tree?”
“Your Majesty, it would still be best not to disturb it. It has become a symbol in the hearts of the people. The imperial line may otherwise be troubled by those of another surname.” Everyone around them froze at the words. They had gone far too far. Surely the Emperor would erupt in anger at once. The man had truly lost all sense of measure.
Unexpectedly, Zhao Kuangyin merely stood in silence. He seemed to ponder for a long time, then looked back over the clear expanse behind him. The sunlight had shifted, making the high pavilion look even more hauntingly familiar.
Everything is for you.
His Majesty seemed to remember something and actually hesitated for an instant. Then, catching sight of the pavilions and terraces, he threw out the words with sudden force. “The previous dynasty left that ancient cedar untouched as well, and did that stop the throne from being disturbed by another surname?”
The men kneeling on the ground hurried to explain. “This subject did not mean that…”
“No matter.” Drawing a breath, he swept his gaze across the grounds. “I will say it once more. This water flows north. Not the slightest detail is to be changed.”
The romantic gossip in the streets and alleys spread even more widely. Lady Huarui must truly be a beauty capable of toppling a kingdom. So favored in the rear palace that she could make the Emperor break the city’s fengshui merely to imitate the mountains, streams, plants, and trees of her homeland.
Back in Zichen Palace, Ling’er came rushing in. “Your Majesty, His Majesty actually cut down the ancient cedar outside Xunfeng Gate for the sake of building that residence.”
No one else was present. Yunjie leaned against the couch, her expression dim. After a long while she waved a hand. “Do not let anyone else hear such talk. If he wants to build it, then he has his reasons.” By now she already understood that whatever his reason, it had nothing to do with any bond from her own past. The only thing she needed to do was live properly inside this central palace, because Zhao Kuangyin had promised her father that he would let her live well.
Yunjie began to envy the person he could not hold onto. After doing so much, perhaps it was all simply because he could not obtain that person. Who could it be, someone with such audacity?
Ling’er leaned nearby, playing with a handkerchief and muttering endlessly about Lady Huarui. Everyone outside said the residence had been built for her. Yunjie did not think Lady Huarui alone could have mattered so much. Though she herself had remained in Zichen Palace and rarely gone outside, Zhao Kuangyin’s heart seemed far beyond anything one Lady Huarui could sway. “Ling’er, leave me for now.”
This knot had remained impossible to untangle ever since he returned from the south.
Yunjie reclined lazily. The days were too long, and she had nothing even to distract herself. Resting on the small couch, she gradually grew tired and fell asleep like that.
When Ling’er shook her awake, she realized she felt slightly cold. Autumn had arrived after all. Ling’er complained that she had not even covered herself with something warm. She must have slept for quite a long time.
Two days later, Li Congshan still had not returned to his fief and once again came outside Guangliang Temple, kneeling as he waited for the Ruler to summon him.
“Please trouble the Elder to present this memorial on my behalf. I… truly…” The words carried respect and apology, yet no lament at all. He only asked him, apologetically, to take the memorial inside.
By contrast, Li Yu’s calm attitude made the Young Elder sigh. It was as though none of this inconvenienced him at all. If he could not see, then he simply could not see. Li Yu’s pupils were growing paler and paler. He let a few strands of hair fall to cover them, perhaps an unconscious movement. Even knowing no one else would see, he still disliked those eyes.
That pale-white figure could already make out almost nothing around him.
The Young Elder went outside and lowered his head slightly. “Amitabha. The Ruler has instructed this monk to bring in the memorial. Duke of Zheng, please return for now.”
Li Congshan was stunned. Today he was not even allowed to see him? “Ruler!” His voice rose. The Young Elder invented an excuse, hoping only to send him away first. His expression remained unchanged as he gave a quiet sigh. “The Ruler is merely afraid that private affection between brothers may interfere with his judgment of the matter. Duke of Zheng, please return.”
Li Congshan stared at the wooden doors, which stood slightly ajar. Through the narrow opening he could glimpse a thread of greenish incense smoke curling slowly from the center of the Buddhist hall, scattering with the wind over a ground strewn clean with dead twigs.
The hall beyond was deep and lightless. A chill suddenly ran down Li Congshan’s back, and uncertainty entered his voice. “Sixth Brother?”
Behind that door hung veils of black gauze. A simple wooden couch had been set there especially for him. When the Young Elder had first ordered one carried in, he remembered asking for a lacquered couch with round floral designs, but Li Yu seemed to anticipate it and said that the plainest one would do. This was a Buddhist temple, after all.
Liuzhu naturally knew what was wrong with him. Crying outside, she had said she wanted to bring over the couch from Weiyang Hall. He had only replied lightly, “Even if you bring it, I will not be able to see it. Anything will do.”
He had been reclining quietly behind the black gauze with his eyes closed. He could clearly hear Congshan outside and had resolved not to answer him. Then suddenly he heard the words Sixth Brother, and Congshan’s voice unmistakably carried fear and hesitation.
The man in white abruptly clutched his chest, his breathing disrupted. Sixth Brother… The facade that everything was well was wounded straight through by those two words.
He had forgotten that he was still many people’s faith.
Li Yu had always been a kind of spiritual strength.
No one had ever thought the word strength could describe him. Too many people ignored the force of a human heart. They assumed this child had lived an effortless life, drifting through it clothed in the brocade of mountains and rivers, nothing more than a fool drunk on dreams and music.
Sixth Brother.
Li Yu was not unfamiliar with this feeling. Back then, when Li Congjia had still worn robes of blue-green, he remembered the wet stone outside Flowing Wind Pavilion and Elder Brother Hongji reaching out as though he wanted to carry that qin for him.
It was an extremely subtle feeling. It had nothing to do with being powerful oneself. When you saw the people behind you relying upon you, you had no choice but to tell yourself that you were something they could lean on.
So had he once made Elder Brother Hongji feel the same way? Perhaps Hongji truly had been driven to a point where there was no road left.
The force of the human spirit could be terrifying.
Li Hongji remained the regret that would never leave the deepest place in his heart.
And now, standing in this position himself, someone was still waiting outside for a single word from him.
Perhaps that expectation truly overestimated him, yet he had no choice but to maintain it. Heat rushed through Li Yu’s chest and blood appeared at his lips again. This illness, born from anguish attacking the heart, had no true cure. Medicine could suppress it temporarily but could not govern an entire lifetime. Every agitation of his mind consumed him. No one could understand the enormous undercurrent hidden beneath those white robes, yet what they saw remained only that detached silhouette, impossible to read for sorrow, joy, heaviness, or cold.
A tottering state and the lives of tens of thousands, the man standing opposed to him, the woman whose pride he had betrayed, his own eyes losing all color and sight while disaster pressed against the kingdom, and the upward gaze of so many people, all of it was kneaded together and crushed down, pressed and pressed until he forgot how to let himself feel freely. He cast everything into the deepest abyss of his heart and for more than twenty years had suspended the shadow of a flourishing age above it all as disguise.
How could he possibly get better?
He reached for the teacup on the small table. The warmth of the tea settled his heart and slowly eased him. In his panic he could see nothing but darkness. Some hot tea spilled over his hand, but he did not even notice.
At last he felt slightly better. “Congshan.” His voice was soft, but it was enough.
Li Congshan froze when he heard him. “Sixth Brother, let me see you, all right?”
“Go back. I will read your memorial.”
Li Congshan stared blankly toward the space beyond the doors, where the smell of incense flowed without end. “Sixth Brother… what exactly is wrong with you?”
“Am I not perfectly well? What could be wrong with me? Congshan, go back for now. I will certainly consider Lin Renzhao’s matter.”
Li Congshan had no choice. He slowly turned and left.
Behind the black gauze, the man in white slowly wiped the blood from his lips with a plain white handkerchief.
Holding the memorial, the Young Elder lifted the black gauze and stepped inside. Li Yu’s expression was calm. He reclined slightly against the plain wooden couch patterned with plum blossoms, his eyes closed as he rested, one hand supporting his forehead. His sleeve had slipped back, revealing the elegant line of his wrist. He looked no different at all from when the Young Elder had gone out moments before.
His hair covered the eye with double pupils. He opened his eyes slightly, found that everything was still too dark to make out, then closed them again. Even his tone remained perfectly ordinary. “I will still have to trouble the Elder to read it aloud to me.”
The Young Elder looked at him. Though the color of his pupils had already dispersed, his spirit still seemed entirely normal.
“Yes.”
Inside the mist-like sleeve of white gauze, the plain handkerchief was covered in blood.