A Single Tie Of Long Hair Seals A Lifelong Commitment - Chapter 88

Deep into the night, the wooden door of the meditation room next to the Yongning Hall was abruptly flung open from the inside. A figure shot out, grasped the door knocker to close it, and swiftly departed.

They walked as if pursued by a vengeful spirit.

Yuan Rong and Dai Qing, who were lodging in the side chambers, heard the commotion and quickly put on their clothes to investigate. Chen Liangyu just happened to brush past them.

“What’s wrong?”

“General…”

The mountain temple was deserted and silent; raising one’s voice slightly could carry a great distance.

Calling out was a mistake. At the sound of the call, Chen Liangyu quickened her pace even more. Before, she was merely walking fast; now, she seemed to be fleeing for her life, dashing away like a wisp of smoke.

Her robe’s hem vanished around the corner of the Yongning Hall. Chen Liangyu rounded the building, took a turn, and headed straight for a row of monastic cells. Earlier that day, the abbot did not know the Auxiliary General of the State was accompanying the Eldest Princess, so the cells were only prepared at noon.

The row had three rooms. Lin Yin and Pu Ping’er were on the left and right, and candlelight was visible in their rooms.

Footsteps rapidly approached.

Before Chen Liangyu could push open the door of the middle room, the doors of the left and right cells opened simultaneously. Two heads peeked out, their wide, flashing eyes fixed on her.

Discretion is a virtue, but sadly, Lin Yin lacked it. She blinked, looking Chen Liangyu over from head to toe. “General, we understand.”

Understand! What! Nonsense!

Chen Liangyu flexed her knuckles, momentarily considering whether gouging out their eyes would be a good option.

Pu Ping’er, eager to distance herself, feigned ignorance of Lin Yin’s statement. “Who’s ‘we understand’? You understand if you want to. I don’t understand.”

“If you don’t understand, then I don’t understand either.”

Chen Liangyu tightened the grip of her index and ring fingers.

Xie Wenjun’s remark in the daytime, “It’s quite pale,” was like a bolt from the blue, scattering everyone’s thoughts. Lin Yin and Pu Ping’er looked at her for the rest of the afternoon with a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief.

To make matters worse, Xie Wenjun had invited her into the meditation room and kept her there all afternoon, copying the Buddhist scriptures dedicated to the late Empress Huixian’s spirit tablet. By the time she finished one scroll, the night outside was deep. The Grand Imperial Temple was, after all, a sacred place near the Imperial City, and Chen Liangyu dared not spend the night in Xie Wenjun’s meditation room. She bolted out.

At this late hour, her panicked, hasty departure looked exactly like a guilty conscience fleeing in disgrace. Now, it was even harder to explain the situation.

Sure enough, Lin Yin and Pu Ping’er now looked at her with an added hint of pity.

Lin Yin glanced at Pu Ping’er.

Their eyes met, and Pu Ping’er quickly understood.

The look meant: “It’s tough for the General, too!”

Pu Ping’er pursed her lips and nodded.

Lin Yin winked: “I never thought the Eldest Princess was into that. But she shouldn’t force herself on others, should she?”

Pu Ping’er rolled her eyes: “Exactly!”

Lin Yin shot another look: “What do we do now? Can she ever return to the Northern Border?”

Pu Ping’er clung to the doorframe, gazing at her poor, unfortunate General: Who knew that a place of immense power would have an even greater power over it?

Chen Liangyu clenched her back molars, her cheeks puffing slightly. “What are you two whispering about?”

“This subordinate wouldn’t dare.” Bo Pinger stammered, holding the doorframe. “Tonight… this door is really pale or white.”

Chen Liangyu’s ears could not tolerate the word “pale” or “white” today.

She held up three fingers and counted, “Three!”

As the word landed, before “Two” and “One” could be counted, the two doors slammed shut simultaneously.

“Two!”

The candlelight was extinguished at the same time.

Standing there, the area suddenly went dark. The mountain temple did not light wind lanterns at night, requiring a hand lantern for travel. Chen Liangyu suddenly realized that her journey from the meditation room near Yongning Hall had been as bright as day, requiring no lantern at all. She could even clearly make out the veins of the weeds by the roadside.

She looked up.

A bright, dazzling full moon hung high.

The gates of the Grand Imperial Temple were painted vermillion, and under the cool moonlight, they seemed frosted. At a glance, the buildings and temples were bathed in silvery moonlight.

Ink from copying the scriptures still lingered on Chen Liangyu’s fingertips. She rubbed them, and the dark color faded.

She gazed toward the Yongning Hall, standing still for a moment.

The grand hall seemed covered in a thin veil woven from clear light. Chen Liangyu suddenly longed to turn back.

But in a moment, she hesitated.

Never mind.

Returning to her cell, the bolt was drawn with a click. A significant night wind suddenly rose on the mountain, rapping pat-a-pat against the door.

Chen Liangyu rested her head on the pillow, the silk quilt partially covering her, and stared at the canopy above.

Her thoughts drifted.

What Xie Wenjun had said to her at the archery range during the day was not without merit.

Xie Yuan was clear-minded but indecisive. He was not cruel or tyrannical, not self-opinionated, did not impose harsh policies, and did not appoint cruel officials. If he had been born in a time of peace, he would surely have been a conservative, wise ruler.

But a person like him on the throne was destined to be unable to suppress the demons of a chaotic era.

The Great Lin Dynasty seemed stable and clear but was, in reality, fraught with danger. Curbing the aristocratic families would inevitably lead to rebellion; reducing redundant officials would cause court turmoil; but if they were not curbed or reduced, empty treasuries and financial shortages would eventually occur.

The problems were clear, but no matter where she started to untangle the knot, it was like stepping into a quagmire, sinking deeper with every step.

One misstep, and the entire board collapses.

The current situation was largely orchestrated by Xie Wenjun herself. She installed the new emperor and stabilized the aristocratic families; she surveyed the farmlands and supplemented the national treasury. One link connected to the next, and every link held a hidden meaning.

It was feasible for Xie Yuan to forcefully suppress the unrest with troops, but military expeditions would necessitate exorbitant taxes, again leading to public suffering. Farm tax was managed by Xie Wenjun; if she truly withdrew now, Xie Yuan could not govern this mess.

Returning the land to the people.

Xie Wenjun and Yan Nian had both mentioned these four words to her.

To return the farmland to the common people, the aristocratic families must be fully suppressed. But now, relying on Xie Wenjun’s “Myriad Official Register” for official appointments, the court was full of their confidantes. Commoners had almost no chance, and the families were at the peak of their arrogance.

Xie Wenjun, having set the trap herself, naturally knew best where to start untangling it to minimize the disaster.

The moment she confessed to her; Xie Wenjun left her no choice. Xie Wenjun knew better than anyone else how Chen Liangyu would choose if loyalty to the sovereign and saving the people were mutually exclusive.

Chen Liangyu thought: I truly didn’t misjudge her when we first met.

She is indeed deeply cunning and difficult to associate with.

Yet, she also thought: The moon tonight is rare, and I truly want to enjoy it with Xie Wenjun.

The sudden gust of wind spoiled the mood, making the door thump thud-thud, like someone knocking repeatedly.

Chen Liangyu turned over, lying on her side. The moon was cool, and the wind was fierce. Mountain air blew through the door cracks. She pulled the edge of the quilt up.

Xie Wenjun’s scheme was truly far-reaching, and involving her in the situation was not a bad thing.

Being used was no big deal.

At least in the historical records that would be passed down for thousands of years, the names of Chen Liangyu and Xie Wenjun could forever be together.

The howling wind stopped, but the knocking sound recurred.

Chen Liangyu heard clearly that it was not the wind; someone was genuinely knocking on her door.

Throwing back the silk quilt, Chen Liangyu slipped on a piece of clothing and moved to the door. She pulled back the bolt, and the door’s axis gave a soft “squeak.”

The door opened, and Xie Wenjun stood outside.

She was dressed only in a simple garment, her long hair scattered freely. A few strands were blown by the wind onto her pale cheek. Her eyes were still deep and profound.

Chen Liangyu immediately pulled the person inside, hugged Xie Wenjun, and rolled into the quilt, wrapping her up tightly.

Xie Wenjun’s thin clothes were cold. She was huddled and shivering in Chen Liangyu’s embrace.

Chen Liangyu said, “Why did you run over without a cloak?”

“The moonlight is very beautiful tonight.”

“It is beautiful.”

“As the evening drew in, I looked out the window and knew the moonlight would be lovely tonight. I wanted to finish copying the Buddhist scriptures and have them prepare a vegetarian meal on the stone table and bench outside the hall, to enjoy the moon with you, Dai Qing, and the others.” Xie Wenjun no longer referred to herself as ‘This Princess.’ “But why did you run so fast?”

Chen Liangyu stammered, “I…” She could not clearly explain why she had run. In short, once she put down the brush and left the purifying presence of the scriptures, it was hard for her to stay in the same room with Xie Wenjun with a pure mind. “Is the vegetarian meal prepared?”

Xie Wenjun said, “The monks are resting, so we won’t bother them. I didn’t eat while copying the scriptures this evening. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Chen Liangyu shook her head, pulling the person closer. “But this subordinate very much wants to enjoy the moon with Your Highness.”

Xie Wenjun looked out the window. The moonlight was clear, and the mountain wind seemed to have subsided considerably. “It’s still not late.” She jumped off the bed and ran outside barefoot.

Chen Liangyu grabbed her fox-fur cloak and her shoes and socks, and followed her out.

“Ah Li, look.”

Xie Wenjun was stepping barefoot on the grass in front of the cell, looking up at the bright, clear moon.

Walking barefoot under the moon was a beautiful sight, but she could easily catch a chill.

Chen Liangyu placed the fox-fur cloak over her shoulders, then crouched down, ready to put the shoes and socks on Xie Wenjun’s feet. Just then, two doors opening behind her made an unusually harsh sound in the quiet night.

Lin Yin and Pu Ping’er once again poked their heads out through the cracks in the doors simultaneously.

Two gazes projected from behind. Chen Liangyu was kneeling on one knee on the grass, her head bowed, busy with something. They could not clearly see what she was doing.

What kind of pious ceremony of peace and blessing was this? Or some other kind of boudoir interest?

Surely, she wasn’t pulling weeds, was she?

Chen Liangyu arranged the shoes and socks neatly. Without raising her head, she called out, “One!”

The sound of doors slamming shut rose, echoing a few times in the valley. The mountain temple returned to silence.

“Well managed.” Xie Wenjun smiled faintly and took a step back.

“You flatter me.”

Nearing midnight, the shadows beneath the moon shrank to their feet, following them closely.

At this time of year, the grass did not frost over at night, but it was cold, especially up here on the mountainside, which was even colder.

Xie Wenjun seemed not to feel the cold beneath her feet. Wrapped in the white fox-fur cloak, she walked onto the moonlit grass, resembling a lotus blooming in the clear light—pure and moving.

“Ah Li,” she called.

“This subordinate is here.”

“After you left earlier, I suddenly became afraid you would leave for a long time again, like so many times before. When you leave, I won’t see you for a year or even longer. Even though I knew you were still in the temple, I…” Xie Wenjun stopped retreating and looked intently at her. “I missed you very much.”

I missed you very much.

I wanted to see you very much.

Today was not the fifteenth, the moon was waning.

“The moon is not full tonight, but with you here, this Princess feels complete.”

The mountain wind, which had been still for quite some time, suddenly picked up again, catching Xie Wenjun’s loose hair. The night was no longer dead silent. Tree branches in the forest rustled loudly.

“In front of my mother’s spirit tablet, I forced you to choose by invoking your past promise to her and the welfare of the people. You might harbor resentment…”

“No resentment.”

A look of surprise crossed Xie Wenjun’s eyes. The two very common words made her pause.

Chen Liangyu thought she hadn’t heard clearly, so when the mountain wind died down, she articulated clearly, “This subordinate has no resentment.”

After a moment, Chen Liangyu added, “My desire to protect Your Highness is not solely due to the promise I made to Empress Huixian years ago. It is my own choice…”

The tranquility was short-lived. A disturbance arose from the direction of Yongning Hall.

Chen Liangyu unhurriedly picked up the neatly placed shoes and socks. As Xie Wenjun’s toes touched the surface of the shoes, the Changning Guards, holding torches, began to search in their direction.

Armor clattered loudly. Amidst the excessive noise, Chen Liangyu spoke every word with force: “I want our names to be forever linked in the long scroll of history. Whether it brings eternal glory or infamy for a thousand years, I want to face it with you.”

To be listed together, with shared renown for ten thousand generations.

To have your name accompany mine in the historical record, jointly witnessing the passage of time.

The moonlight in the mountain temple grew brighter. Every eave was illuminated snow-white. The stone steps and pagodas were coated in a white glow, so white it was dazzling, making the light of the torches seem dim by comparison.

The movement of the troops immediately startled the temple monks. Lin Yin and Bo Pinger also gathered outside the cell, holding their swords, along with the others.

Yuan Rong and Dai Qing pushed past the Changning Guards and ran up, holding thick clothes. Seeing the fox-fur cloak on Xie Wenjun, they did not press more clothing upon her. Yuan Rong said, “Your Highness, the mountain is bitterly cold at night. Please be careful not to catch a chill.”

Xie Wenjun looked at the leader of the Changning Guards. “Didn’t I say there’s no need for people to follow me? Rong, stand down.”

Rong bowed, “Yes.”