Purely by Accident – Chapter 52
***
The day she was due to leave the capital, for some reason I could not name, I decided to go and see her after all. She was asleep at the time, and I was awake.
The coach stood by the side of the imperial highway just outside the city. The world was shrouded in darkness. Every now and then, the horses would kick their hooves idly, or let out a loud snort.
It was a cold night. She slept soundly in the coach, a slight flush on her face — likely the effects of the drug I’d had them give her. As I leaned back against the seat, watching her quietly, I thought to myself: when Wei Zisong wasn’t playing the fool or engaging in some sort of mischief, there was a certain girlish charm to her that delighted the eye.
Suddenly I found myself missing her usual animated expressions, and the way she would call me ‘princess, princess’.
Until I met her, I had not known that tired old title, worn dull by so many repetitions, could sound so full of yearning, so rich with emotion. Every time she pulled a long face at me and pleaded ‘princess, princess’, I would feel as if a warm spring breeze had washed over me. My heart would melt, and I was invariably say ‘yes’ to whatever she wanted. When had that begun?
Though she would never call me that again.
That night at Yixian Tavern, far too many consequential emotions — shock, confusion, panic — had flashed across that face of hers which was so rarely serious. Before I could take in each expression clearly, they had all coalesced into a single icy smile, and the words she’d said right after that were equally cold.
She’d said, ‘You tricked me.’
In that instant, I’d felt as if I did not know her at all. What had she said? Why, oh why, was it ‘you tricked me’, rather than ‘princess, princess, I’ve been falsely accused’? On her face had been a wary, guarded look I’d never seen before.
I had to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to repress the sudden urge to laugh until I cried. I, Chu Feichen, had once again been overmatched by another person’s grand designs upon an empire. Was it fate? Or simply ill luck?
No, neither of those things. It was Wei Zisong.
She’d barged straight into my heart like the scoundrel she was, then abandoned me without so much as a by-your-leave. You said you loved me, but that counted for nothing in the end. Wei Zisong, you bastard.
The bastard herself was now lying on the seat in front of my, fast asleep. I caressed her face over and over again, wishing she would open her eyes, look up at me with that mischievous smile, and call me ‘princess, princess’.
I had never told her how much I loved her smile. There was something so real and true about it, so clean and pure that not even the freshest-fallen snow could rival it. Every time she smiled, I would be seized by the impulse to kiss her, to make the upward curve of her lips even broader, even lovelier.
I wanted so badly to keep that carefree smile on her face. Since life at court was so ill-suited to her disposition, I’d thought, once I’d taken care of Wang Zhuoyi and his fellow conspirators, I would return with her to that bandit stronghold in Yinzhou, and take up a life of leisure as its mistress. I had not known, however, what great ambitions lay beneath that seemingly guileless smile. Wei Zisong, if taking back your throne was what you wanted, you could have just done it. Why did you need to drag me into your schemes?
Zhongliang called softly from outside the coach. ‘Your Highness, the hour grows late. It’s time we were on our way.’
My hand paused on her earlobe. Then I bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Something which had been collecting in my eyes for quite some time rolled down my cheek and splashed into her temple. Her brow furrowed very slightly.
Goodbye, Wei Zisong.
It was still dark when the coach drove off. The horses’ hoofbeats grew fainter and fainter with distance, and in their echoes I fancied I could hear the refrain in my own heart: we’ll never meet again.
The next day, the court was well and truly shaken — not by Wei Zisong’s sudden disappearance, but by Zhao Yishu’s formal accusation of treason against Grand Marshal Wang Zhuoyi, which he made in front my father and all his assembled officials. He listed out every single detail of the conspirators’ scheme: how many soldiers they could command, the number of weapons they had, when they planned to launch their coup. The only thing he omitted, for some reason, was Wei Zisong’s true identity.
Those revelations left the whole court reeling. Zhao Yishu’s father, I was told, had collapsed from shock on the spot.
I ran into Zhao Yishu outside the throne room. His gaze, when it fell on me, was exactly as warm and indulgent as it had been all those years ago, when I’d first met him in the imperial gardens. With a faint smile, he said, ‘Feichen, today I can finally look you in the eye without shame.’
I had loved two people in my life, but for whatever reason — whether for my own good, or otherwise — they’d both ended up pushing me away for the sake of an empire. Did they not understand that all I’d ever wanted was someone who would take my hand and never let it go, who would never forsake me as we grew old side by side?
I was asking for too much, it seemed.
I looked back at him calmly. ‘Be good to my sanmei,’ I said.
That seemed to startle him a little. At the same time, he looked like a man who had finally been freed of a heavy burden. ‘I will,’ he said with a slight nod.
The furore surrounding Wang Zhuoyi’s treasonous plot — and the successful bid at countering it — soon died down as if it had never happened, likely because no real blood had been shed in the process. I was not sure, however, when the wounds it had left on my heart would ever heal.
Habit was a terrifying thing, I began to feel. Often, as I tossed and turned in bed at night, I would reach out beside me, and when my hand found nothing but cold, empty space, my sleep-clouded mind would wonder, Wei Zisong, why aren’t you here?
And then I would be completely awake.
Both my own manor and the residence I had once shared with her became unendurable, so I told my father that I would be moving back to the palace for the time being.
I woke up in the middle of one night to see the moon shining full and bright outside my window, and gazed at it for a long moment. Then for no reason at all, I found myself wondering: if Wei Zisong were to find someone else one day, what should I do? I was not sure I had it within myself to tell her gracefully, ‘Be good to them.’
Ah, but now I was only deceiving myself, because even the thought of her with someone else made my heart ache uncontrollably.
I got up, went over to the window, and flung it open to let in some fresh air. As I leaned against the lattice, I could feel a series of markings in the wall outside, just beneath the sill. It was as if something had been carved there.
I went outside to take a look. Moonlight shone gently down on me, and the wind was cool and clear. The sight of those sixteen short words carved into the wall made my vision blur rapidly.
Beneath the boundless azure sky, our love’s a promise that binds us across Heaven and Earth.
The words had been cut deeply into the wall; the person who had done it must have used considerable strength. But still. You might have carved them with all your might, Wei Zisong, but how much did you really mean them?
For some reason, a surge of resentment welled up suddenly within me. You said all those words; you made all those promises. But Wei Zisong, where are you now?
Word would come from Zhongliang every now and then — tiny scrolls tied to the legs of messenger pigeons — likely telling me where they were now, and how they were doing. Every single one of these was locked, unread, in the study at my manor; I had never opened even one. I could not be sure whether, the instant I learned where she was, I would immediately abandon everything else to rush to her side.
But now, I suddenly found myself seized by the desire to know: Wei Zisong, are you able to get on just as well without me?
I set off for my manor the very next day. As the coach jolted its way through the streets, I heard the voice of a pedlar crying his wares. ‘Gather round, gather round! Hot off the presses, it’s The Secret History of the Royal Family, the novel to which I’ve dedicated years of my life — indeed, sacrificed them to the imperial prison! Read all about why the Eldest Princess divorced her consort!’
I hardly dared believe my ears.
At my command, my attendants brought the pedlar to the coach. He was a clean-cut young man dressed in the robes of a scholar. As he knelt tremblingly before me, I asked a single question, ‘The Eldest Princess divorced her consort? Who did you hear this from?’
The arrest of Wei Zisong was still a secret very few knew of. How had this man managed to find out about our separation?
The man was so fearful that he didn’t even look up. ‘A… a pretty boy who was locked up in the cell next to mine,’ he stammered. ‘He said that the Eldest Princess had married a handsome, learned, martially skilled young man, who knew a lot about making a woman happy. But because he was too clinging, too devoted, too attentive, the Eldest Princess found him bothersome, and divorced him.’
‘A handsome, learned, martially skilled young man, who knew a lot about making a woman happy’? That sounded exactly like the kind of thing Wei Zisong would say. As the image of her mischievous grin rose up in my mind, I seized upon the most crucial piece of information in what the man had just said.
I’d divorced her, because she was too clinging, too devoted, too attentive? Wei Zisong, you shameless rogue, is that how you think of our separation?
A wild hope I had not dared to contemplate before was beginning to take shape in my heart. I closed my eyes briefly, my mind in a turmoil. Then I stepped out of the coach, deciding to walk the rest of the way to my manor.
I had only taken a few steps when I felt a tug at my sleeve. It was a broad-faced, portly businessman. I turned a cool stare on him.
Somewhat unwillingly, he let go, but excitement still shone from his face. ‘My lady, is your husband still at his last place of employment? Has he no interest yet in joining us at Shuoyu Atelier?’[1]
He was making absolutely no sense. ‘You’ve mistaken me for someone else,’ I said, continuing to march forward.
The businessman followed closely in my wake. ‘There can be no mistake, my lady. That hairpin you’re wearing was commissioned from us by the young gentleman himself. Such an ingenious design, and he told me it was meant as a gift for his sweetheart. No, there is no way I could be mistaken.’
I stopped abruptly. The hairpin. The ‘ingenious design’. The ‘sweetheart’.
The hairpin had been a gift from Wei Zisong. So she hadn’t merely bought it, but had come up with the design herself, and commissioned it from this jeweller?
The jeweller himself was beginning to ramble in his excitement. ‘I had never come across such a talented young person before! It’s my everlasting regret that I wasn’t able to persuade him to join us at Shuoyu Atelier. Why is it that I’ve never seen him after that? A love letter hidden in that dangling bead, two gifts in one — he must love you very much to have dreamed up such a thing, my lady. What a lucky woman you are!’
I stared at him for a moment, then slid the hairpin from my coiffure. Stroking the vividly green jade bead that dangled from it, I murmured, ‘A hidden love letter?’
As the jeweller’s endless stream of chatter swirled around me, the half-formed hope in my heart began to take on clearer contours. I had to return to my manor immediately!
When I finally got there, I saw a figure loitering outside, stealing glances through the front gates every now and then. I stepped closer. Wasn’t that the little steward from the other residence?
He made an obeisance towards me and mumbled, ‘Y-Your Highness, w-when is the prince consort c-coming home?’
That was a question I very much wanted the answer to as well. But still I softened my expression and replied, ‘The prince consort? Is he not at his own residence? He’s certainly not here.’
The steward raised his little face, which was flushed with agitation. ‘Not here? B-but the other day, h-he took the map I’d drawn of th-the route here, and l-left. H-he didn’t come here? But it’s b-been so many days, where is h-he?’
Those words had come out haltingly and rather feebly, but they sounded in my ears as loudly as a thunderclap. The wild hope in my heart was now nearly fully formed.
I took a deep breath, dug my nails into my palms, and asked, ‘What map are you talking about? When did all this happen?’
He seemed startled. ‘N-not all th-that long ago. After I finished the map, th-the prince consort told me to a-ask Commander Z-Zhao a-and Master Lin to meet him at that t-tavern. Then he left, b-but he never came back.’
The map. Zhao Yishu. Lin Haiyuan.
Could that dreadful nightmare I hardly dared to look back on be nothing more than a misunderstanding?
A thousand different emotions welled up within me, and foremost among them was the pain I felt for Wei Zisong. You ridiculous girl, why didn’t you tell me?
And as for her letter, oh, her letter…
She said, I love you, Chu Feichen.
She said, how thankful I am that the person I fell in love at first sight with was you.
She said, if only you weren’t a princess of the Yan Empire, how good life would be.
Wei Zisong, you ridiculous girl. As long as you love me, what hardship could there possibly be in giving up my title?
Xiping District, was it?
Zisong, wait for me.
(The End)
***
Footnotes:
- In the original text, this is ‘Cuiyu Atelier’ (翠玉斋) instead of ‘Shuoyu Atelier’ (硕玉斋). Since this is obviously a continuity error, I have corrected it to the latter. [return to text]
douqi 随笔 