Wind And Snow On The Jade Steps - Chapter 8

When Jiang Yu returned to the manor from the palace, the snow had begun to fall again.

She stepped through the main gates, carrying the chilling aura of the blizzard with her. As she reached the covered walkway, her footsteps faltered. Slowly, she raised a hand and pointed toward a set of wind chimes hanging under the eaves of the flower hall.

“Is she here again?” she asked, her voice cool.

Whenever the Emperor visited the Princess’s manor, she forbade any formal announcements. Consequently, Jiang Yu had an agreement with her trusted attendants: if the Emperor arrived, they were to hang wind chimes by the hall near the entrance.

An attendant held an umbrella over her, supporting her arm while walking with eyes cast down. “Yes,” the servant replied.

Jiang Yu turned on her heel to leave.

“Where are you going, Your Highness?” the attendant asked hurriedly.

“Anywhere,” Jiang Yu said. “Anywhere is better than seeing her.”

As Jiang Yu reached the gate, two or three internal officials materialized out of nowhere to block her path.

Jiang Yu’s expression soured. “This is my own residence, yet I cannot come and go as I please. What logic is this?”

An official offered a fawning smile. “Please, Your Highness, calm your anger. Don’t make things difficult for us servants, we are only following orders.”

It was blindingly obvious whose orders they were. Jiang Yu narrowed her eyes, staring them down. The officials remained bowed in a humble posture, yet they did not retreat an inch.

After a few tense moments, Jiang Yu finally yielded. She gestured toward the courtyard with her chin. “Since you won’t let me leave, tell me, which room is she in?”

The officials looked at one another. Finally, one of the bolder ones spoke up. “We have been guarding the outer perimeter, so we truly do not know. However, Her Majesty arrived with a stack of imperial petitions.”

Jiang Yu turned away, dropping a cold remark over her shoulder: “Then she is in the study.”

The study was fragrant with the scent of rue, kept warm by a crackling charcoal fire. Seeing Jiang Yu approach under an umbrella, the official stationed at the door quickly lifted the padded curtain.

Jiang Yu paused, patted her attendant’s hand, removed her cloak, and stepped into the room alone.

Against the south wall stood a sandalwood bookshelf, and before it sat a large rosewood desk. The Emperor was seated there, leisurely making marks with a vermilion brush. The stack of petitions on the desk was nearly half the height of a person.

“Yu is here,” she said without looking up, her brush never pausing its work.

Jiang Yu didn’t respond. She simply stood in silence, watching the Emperor work.

The Emperor showed no self-awareness regarding her occupation of someone else’s study. Aside from that initial greeting, she acted as if Jiang Yu didn’t exist, refusing to look up for a long time. She even started humming a Kunqu opera tune while grading the scrolls.

Jiang Yu felt a headache coming on. She turned to leave but ultimately forced herself to stay. Standing tall in the center of the room, she flicked her sleeve and said softly, “Jiang Chu, you are sitting there, and now I have nowhere to sit.”

Only then did the Emperor deign to look up from the sea of paperwork. she glanced around the room and said with feigned surprise, “So you are. To think your study only has one chair.”

She looked down at the rosewood “snake-head” chair she was occupying, gripped the armrests to stand up, and stepped aside. “Then you sit, Yu. I can just stand.”

Jiang Yu stared at her, saying nothing. After a moment, she walked to the desk and sat down in the chair without an ounce of politeness.

Jiang Chu gave her a sweet smile. A moment later, she casually tried to hand her the vermilion brush.

“Jiang Chu,” Jiang Yu sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “Do you still want to sit on this throne or not?”

Jiang Chu shook her head. She spun around in a small half-circle and came to a stop behind Jiang Yu. She leaned down slightly, her long hair brushing against the carved snake heads on the back of the chair.

Jiang Chu’s presence suddenly felt overwhelming. Jiang Yu heard a low voice whisper from behind her, “Yu, I told you, if you want to be Emperor, I will hand the throne over to you at any time. Look, I never even use the royal ‘We’ when I am with you.”

The vermilion brush spun three times in the Emperor’s fingers, coming to rest perfectly at her fingertips, ready for use.

Jiang Yu lowered her head. She didn’t take the brush; instead, she reached out and closed the petition on the desk. “If you don’t want to be Emperor, abdicate to our second sister. You can live a carefree life as the Retired Empress.”

“She isn’t qualified,” Jiang Chu said darkly.

“And I am?”

“Naturally. You have been brilliant since you were a child. If you hadn’t been so young when Mother passed, this throne would never have fallen to me.”

Jiang Yu’s hand, hidden in her sleeve, clenched into a fist before relaxing after a long silence. Her face was half-hidden by her hair, masking her expression. “Does your behavior do justice to our Mother’s memory?”

“How am I behaving?” Jiang Chu laughed. “I am doting on my younger sister. If Mother knew this in the afterlife, she would be nothing but happy.”

Jiang Yu’s finger tapped twice on the armrest. She suddenly turned her head slightly, her dark eyes locking onto the gaze of the person behind her. “You know exactly what your own intentions are.”

Jiang Chu nodded. “I know very well.”

Very well? To Jiang Yu’s ears, that sounded like a blatant provocation.

Jiang Yu stood up abruptly and called out to the officials waiting outside. “Pack up your Emperor’s petitions. The study is closed to guests today.”

The officials entered, trembling with fear. They didn’t know whether to obey or not, stealing glances at the Emperor to gauge her reaction.

Jiang Chu merely smiled. “If the study is closed to guests, I shall go to the flower hall.”

Jiang Yu remained unmoved. “The flower hall is drafty and the winter wind is piercing. I fear it would freeze Her Majesty.”

Jiang Chu’s eyes widened. she leaned in with a look of pleasant surprise. “Yu, are you worried about me?”

The officials lowered their heads, pretending to be invisible, and retreated.

Jiang Yu had reached her limit. She turned around, took a deep breath, and asked, “What is it you actually want?”

“Nothing in particular,” Jiang Chu sat back down in the rosewood chair. “I just wanted to find a quiet place to finish these petitions.”

“The Imperial Study has everything you need, and the fires are warmer there. Is it not more comfortable than this place?”

Jiang Chu frowned in thought, then had a sudden realization. “Are you saying the Princess’s manor is running low on charcoal? I’ll have someone send a supply over immediately.”

Jiang Yu was at a loss. She left with a cold, expressionless remark: “Then stay here by yourself. I’m going elsewhere to find some peace.”

Jiang Chu didn’t say anything else. She simply reopened the scrolls and added a parting note: “It is cold out, Yu. Don’t stand in the drafts.”

The snow continued, and evening began to fall.

Jiang Yu sat in the pavilion for half an hour, then spent another half hour admiring paintings in her inner chamber. Finally unable to sit still, she called an attendant. “Has she left yet?”

The attendant shook his head.

“What is wrong with her? Why won’t she stay in her own study?” Jiang Yu frowned.

The attendant, who had been waiting quietly, stepped forward and whispered, “I heard that the Emperor was in a foul mood after returning from the banquet. Concubine Chun chose that moment to enter and offer a bowl of red bean porridge, but for some reason, it sparked a royal fury. That is why the Emperor left the palace.”

“It has nothing to do with Concubine Chun. Anyone who approached her then would have faced her wrath,” Jiang Yu’s eyes darkened. “This started because of me. Concubine Chun must be heartbroken. Have someone open the storehouse, pick out some fine jewelry, and send it to her as a consolation in the Emperor’s name.”

The attendant was confused. “Why does Your Highness say this was your doing?”

Jiang Yu took a cup of tea from another servant, staring at the faint mist rising from the light-colored water. “I invited Shen Zhishu to put on an act with me. We acted intimately specifically for the Emperor to see.”

The two attendants exchanged a look but didn’t dare respond.

Jiang Yu looked down at the Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains painting, her finger brushing over the imperial seal bearing the Emperor’s name. She let out a sudden, mocking laugh.

“Why do you think she does this?” she murmured, though it wasn’t clear who she was asking.

The room became deathly silent.

After a long pause, an attendant offered some cautious comfort. “Perhaps the Emperor simply treasures Your Highness and wishes to protect her sister, fearing you might be led astray by someone.”

“Protect me?” Jiang Yu sneered. “She protects me by drugging me?”

“Please ease your mind, Highness. Perhaps that medicine wasn’t actually from the Emperor…”

“She never visits without something happening, yet as soon as she arrives, I fall ill. Stop making excuses for her,” Jiang Yu said flatly. “Speaking of which, General Shen was dragged into this mess because of me. I must settle things with Jiang Chu today.”

The General Shen in question was currently lounging at home, practically growing mold from boredom.

Having had enough of the crowded life in the military camps, she wanted nothing more than to sit quietly with her maid, He-niang, and chat by the fire. She had claimed illness to dodge all social obligations, spending her days admiring plum blossoms with wine and her nights watching the moon with tea.

She was currently swinging a sixty-six-pound saber with impressive force when she heard a commotion at the door. A servant announced, “General Xie has arrived!”

Before the words had even settled, Xie Jin came rushing in, skidding to a halt in front of Shen Zhishu. “Youzhi, save me!” she wailed.

Youzhi was Shen Zhishu’s courtesy name.

Shen Zhishu lowered her blade and arched an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?”

“Tomorrow is the Consort of Prince Su’s birthday banquet. Her mother is close friends with my mother, so my mother is insisting I attend.”

“Tomorrow is the banquet? Why didn’t I receive an invitation?” Shen Zhishu asked the attendant standing nearby.

The servant replied respectfully, “You did receive one, General… but since you have been ‘ill,’ you refused to look at any invitations. You told me to burn them all for warmth as soon as they arrived.”

Shen Zhishu went silent. Xie Jin laughed so hard she nearly doubled over.

Shen Zhishu turned back to Xie Jin. “You’ve had your laugh. That said, it’s just a banquet. Why do you need me to save you?”

Xie Jin lowered her voice. “Listen to why. Four years ago in the Northwest, I saved a girl who was being driven off a cliff by bandits. She was incredibly grateful, and ever since, she has been relentlessly attentive and affectionate toward me. It’s as if she’s decided I’m hers. After I escorted her to a relay station, I had people see her home safely. Only later did I find out she is the sister of the Consort of Prince Su!”

“Since I returned to the capital, she has come to my door five or six times. I’ve pushed her away every time with excuses. This time, I can’t dodge it. General Shen, help me just this once. I’ll be your humble servant in the next life to repay the favor.”

Shen Zhishu tutted. “There’s no need for that. Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

“Put on an act with me,” Xie Jin said. “Just pretend we have feelings for each other so the girl will give up and retreat.”

Shen Zhishu’s expression went blank. “Not again.”

Xie Jin was confused. “What do you mean ‘again’? This is the first time I’ve asked.”

Shen Zhishu sighed. “You could find anyone to act with you, but you had to pick me. If rumors start spreading about us, won’t it be ridiculous?”

Xie Jin thought about that scenario and felt a shiver run down her spine. She rubbed her arms. “I’ll beg the girl not to spread it around. Just tell me, will you help or not?”

Shen Zhishu thought for a moment. “Then you’ll have to be my servant for two lifetimes.”

“You haven’t even been drinking, yet you’re already talking nonsense?” Xie Jin laughed. “I’m asking nicely and you won’t listen. Do I have to get tough? Let me tell you, Princess Huai’an will be there tomorrow. If you don’t agree, I’ll file a formal complaint against you right in front of her.”

Shen Zhishu was speechless.

Why was it always the Princess?

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