Chapter 79

In the following days, Nie Qinglin thought she ought to go with the flow and give Prime Minister Qiu some face.

She announced that she was ill and would no longer attend court.

This also gave Master Qiu a chance to continue the blazing momentum of his new appointment.

However, without the Grand Tutor’s approval, she could no longer leave the palace.

With nothing to do, she spent her days tending to the two bare flower pots in the palace.

She had not expected seeds brought from thousands of miles away to adapt to the northern climate.

But on the third day, a patch of tender green sprouts unexpectedly emerged.

The tiny leaves spread open obediently, trembling gently in the breeze.

They climbed determinedly and even grew vines. Nanny Shan helped the princess set up a frame at the small window, and the delicate vines quickly covered it.

The flowers bloomed in twin blossoms.

They were fiery red, clustered together into a brilliant patch that seemed to bloom endlessly, falling and blossoming again as if they never truly faded.

Letters from the Grand Tutor arrived frequently.

At first, they were elegant, each filled with a deeply reflective poem or a description of the local customs and scenery.

But as time passed, the contents grew increasingly absurd.

On the urgent military supply lists the Grand Tutor submitted to the princess, bizarre requests began to appear.

These included a waistband she had worn a few days before or a handkerchief scented with her fragrance.

Who knew what kind of savage soldiers could be repelled by such soft and delicate boudoir items! Upon seeing this, Nie Qinglin could only blush, secretly mutter “Shameless Grand Tutor!”, and pretend she never saw it.

Before departing, the Grand Tutor had left instructions with Eunuch Ruan: though the border was tense with war, the palace need not be overly restrained; there ought to be some merriment from time to time.

Eunuch Ruan took this to heart.

No wonder the Grand Tutor could navigate so deftly between the imperial siblings; he truly knew how to care, both warm and cool when needed, still remembering to bring joy to the brother and sister even while leading troops into battle.

At first, Eunuch Ruan was worried because the princess rarely left her quarters.

But once she became lively again, walking all around the palace, he finally let out a long sigh of relief.

However, the emperor on the other side fell ill.

Long ago, the Grand Tutor had strictly ordered him not to intrude on the emperor’s bedchamber, and no one knew how long the emperor’s illness would last.

So he recalled the Grand Tutor’s words and resolved to bring a little more entertainment to the palace gardens.

The late emperor had a strong love for music and opera.

He would often summon popular young actors and actresses from the Wei Dynasty to perform in the palace.

Several of these actresses even rose from common opera performers to favored palace concubines.

Whenever there was a performance, the late emperor would invite the unmarried princes and princesses to join him, where they would gather, eat snacks, sip soup, and enjoy the lively opera.

Eunuch Ruan was efficient.

By the next day, he had already brought in the most popular opera performers in the capital to sing in the palace.

Nie Qinglin had not originally intended to attend the opera, but seeing how everything had already been arranged by Eunuch Ruan, she simply followed along.

Eunuch Ruan waited outside Fengchu Palace.

Once the princess was dressed neatly, he accompanied her to the courtyard where the opera was to be held.

After helping her to the best seat in the opera pavilion, he then went to invite the empress and several consorts.

After a while, Empress Shen arrived, followed by two newly appointed imperial concubines, Concubine Yi and Concubine Jing, as well as several of the late emperor’s former concubines.

Once everyone was seated, Eunuch Ruan gave the signal to begin.

Bang… bang… bang… With a few opening gongs, several graceful opera performers in white, with long hair down to their waists, fluttered onto the stage like butterflies.

After darting about for a while, they began to sing with delicate, lilting voices.

The play for the day was The Story of East Bridge, about a scholar and a young lady who fell in love at first sight at Wuhu’s East Bridge.

But fate had other plans: during their elopement, they were separated by a sudden flood, each left on opposite sides of the world.

Although Nie Qinglin had not been favored as a child, she never missed an opera.

Watching the performers exchange glances and affections, she listened intently, fully immersed.

In contrast, Empress Shen, who had been raised under the strict rules of the Shen family, rarely watched opera.

She grew impatient with the slow, drawn out lyrics that seemed to take forever to say a single sentence.

She had intended to speak with Princess Yong’an, but found that the newly appointed concubines had surrounded the princess, doting on her, one peeling an orange segment, another offering her a bowl of soup, clearly leaving Empress Shen deliberately out.

Nie Qinglin bore no ill will toward these two concubines.

In fact, she felt a bit guilty.

Though they had entered the palace for some time, the emperor had barely spared them a glance, let alone shared a night with them.

Fortunately, those concubines themselves had no desire to get too close to the current Emperor.

Otherwise, when the Grand Tutor took the throne, wouldn’t they have had to “ascend to the heavens” with the Emperor as well? Even if they survived, their endings wouldn’t be any better.

Just look at the late Emperor’s concubines.

Once they lived lives of luxury and indulgence, commanding obedience with a single word.

Now, they could only stay cautiously off to the side.

Whenever they looked over, they wore ingratiating smiles.

Thinking that this might be their own future, the new concubines couldn’t help feeling disheartened.

But it seemed the Grand Tutor had a particular fondness for Princess Yong’an, surely that was a promising direction to pursue.

The two newly appointed concubines immediately began plotting how to win favor.

If they could get closer to the princess, and one day the princess sought to secure the Grand Tutor’s affections, they might become her allies.

If they could even share the Grand Tutor’s bed, then everything would fall into place.

Empress Shen never cared much for opera to begin with.

She only wanted to have a few words with Princess Yong’an, but the princess was already surrounded by the concubines.

Empress Shen grew increasingly bored and couldn’t help worrying about the ailing Emperor.

At last, she rose and said to Princess Yong’an, “Do enjoy the opera, Your Highness. I shall return to my quarters first.”

But Concubine Jing spoke up sharply, “Is this how the Shen family listens to opera? Just as Her Highness was getting into it, she’s interrupted by someone deciding to leave.”

On the other side, Concubine Yi snorted, “Well, she is the Empress, after all. She can do as she pleases. We should be grateful she even bothers to say anything before leaving.”

Empress Shen turned red and teary eyed at their remarks.

Princess Yong’an sighed inwardly, thinking: Born of the same root, why must we torment each other so? Life in the palace was already difficult, why make it worse by tearing each other down? Empress Shen was likely the only one in the palace who truly cared about the Emperor.

Princess Yong’an didn’t hold any ill will toward the concubines, but she couldn’t tolerate them ganging up to bully the Empress.

People in the palace were the most fickle of all.

If the concubines gained the upper hand today, who knew what life would be like for the Empress afterward?

With that in mind, she stood up and said clearly, “Her Majesty didn’t mention it, but I, Yong’an, was already feeling quite tired. If it’s not too much trouble, I would love to accompany Your Majesty and have a chat in your quarters.”

With that, she left the concubines whose expressions had suddenly turned sour and walked straight over.

Hearing this, Empress Shen’s eyes filled with tears again, this time with gratitude.

She thought to herself, The Emperor is gentle and cultured, and even his sister is so considerate.

I, Shen Hong’er, must have earned this wonderful marriage in a previous life!

Just as Princess Yong’an and the Empress stepped out of the opera courtyard, they happened to cross paths with the ministers who were leaving the morning court session.

The opera courtyard in the palace was close to the court hall.

The late Emperor had designed it that way for a reason: when early court became tedious, he only needed to rise, walk through a corridor, and he would arrive at the opera courtyard.

For a while, the palace even kept a full time opera troupe.

Some favored young officials had such melodious voices that, once they shaved their beards and wore makeup, their appearances were quite enchanting.

There were times when the troupe would be shut in and they would frolic the day away.

When they emerged, even the late Emperor’s lips were smeared with rouge.

But today, the flaws of the opera courtyard’s placement were glaring.

In the court hall, Prime Minister Qiu was solemnly listening to ministers report on the people’s hardships across the land, particularly the disaster relief efforts in Li county after the flood.

Meanwhile, from just beyond the wall, the clack clack of clappers rang out and a performer’s voice echoed: “Girl, where are you? Were you swept away by the flood?”

Prime Minister Qiu asked sternly, “Have the riverbanks been repaired and reinforced? What’s the current tally of casualties?”

From beyond the courtyard wall, the young opera lead sang loudly, “The raging floodwaters rise endlessly, they drown both shores, ah, no hope for life!”

Prime minister Qiu tried to suppress his frustration and asked, “When can boats resume passage?”

Then came the sorrowful voice of a female performer: “There’s no longer a time to meet by boat, yi ya ya! I’m truly doomed!”

Prime minister Qiu took a deep breath and raised his voice, trying to drown out the opera sounds: “War reports from the front are urgent! I ask the Ministry of Revenue to urgently prepare food supplies, we can’t let our soldiers go hungry!”

But the opera replied in perfect timing, an old matron’s voice chiming in: “Well, that’s one way to save food, let the bold girl who sneaked out die of hunger!”

“…”

The most maddening part was that several of the court officials happened to be opera enthusiasts.

Even while standing in court, they unconsciously began swaying slightly with the beat, nodding their heads to the melody.

If Lord Qiu Mingyan hadn’t shot them a fierce glare, some of them might have flicked their sleeves and struck a charming pose right then and there.

By the end of the court session, Qiu Mingyan’s pale face looked as if it had been smeared with soot from a pot.

Furious, he stormed out of court and stood outside the opera courtyard, waiting silently.

But when the opera finally ended and Empress Shen emerged, the princess beside her made Qiu Mingyan pause in astonishment.

The young lady wore a sky aqua ruqun with scattered flower and auspicious cloud patterns.

Her hair was styled sleekly, with a long strand draped down one side of her face, woven into a dark braid with golden threads, making her delicate, fair features glow like jade.

At a single glance, Qiu Mingyan could tell she was the Emperor’s sister, Princess Yong’an.

If that ever smiling little Emperor were dressed like this, would he look as charming as his sister? he wondered.

With that thought, Lord Qiu’s mood became even fouler!