Now, hearing that the Emperor had left the palace, his heart stirred—he felt this might be an opportunity.
If the Emperor kept refusing to see him, as time went on, he might very well forget Yang Jinglei entirely. Then, the moment someone even slightly capable appeared, they would take his place—and he would lose his chance forever.
The saying "a meeting carries three parts of affection" applied not only to the consorts in the rear palace, but to these court officials as well.
[見面三分情 (jiànmiàn sān fēn qíng): lit. "A meeting carries three parts of affection"; fig. When people meet face-to-face, it's easier to reach an agreement or soften conflicts.]
If he could just see the Emperor face to face, he could remind him of the good old days.
Yang Jinglei had served by Qi Junmu's side for a while, so he had some understanding of the Emperor's temperament. Besides, he had built up some connections within the Imperial Guard. As long as he chose the right moment, he still had a chance to win back the Emperor's favor.
So, amid the silence of his family, Yang Jinglei quietly walked out of the Yang household.
An imperial excursion was such a major event that everyone in the capital would be talking about it. With a bit of inquiry, he would naturally find out where the Emperor was.
---
As many had expected, the Emperor's procession made its way straight to the gates of the Marquis Zhenbei's residence. The entire street was lined with Imperial Guards, and behind them, every tavern balcony was packed with onlookers—all hoping to catch a glimpse of the Emperor's countenance, along with others who had their own agendas.
Of course, these people were all inside the taverns. Anyone not in a tavern was forbidden from stepping outside, lest they be mistaken for an assassin.
Su Ren had rushed over with his men as soon as he got word, sparing no effort to clear the streets and ensure a safe distance around the Emperor's procession.
Inside, Su Ren was seething with frustration. He never imagined that after everything that had happened, Shen Nian would still hold such a high place in the Emperor's heart. Here he was, the Prefect of the Capital, reduced to clearing the road for him—where was the sense in that?
The door at the Marquis Zhenbei's residence had been replaced. The new gatekeeper was an old North Frontier soldier named A Zhuang, whose legs were somewhat disabled. After returning to the capital with no trade to make a living, he had been placed here by Shen Nian.
The Marquis Zhenbei household had always been small in population. After Wen shi and Shen Qing stopped appearing, Old Madam Shen took charge of the household affairs. But many knew that the real authority in the residence lay with Shen Nian.
Because of A Zhuang's background, even though he was only a gatekeeper, no one in the Marquis Zhenbei's household dared to give him trouble.
A Zhuang had been on the battlefield and had seen blood. He had thought there was nothing in this life that could make him panic. That was, until he saw the Emperor's imperial palanquin. He had never set foot in the main hall, nor had he ever laid eyes on the Emperor before.
But that palanquin—draped in imperial yellow—the fearsome armored Imperial Guards clearing the streets, the soldiers fanning out in silence all around, standing at attention, waiting—every single detail told him: the Emperor had arrived.
A Zhuang stood frozen, staring as Ruan Jiqing helped the Emperor step down from the palanquin. His mouth opened, but not a single word came out.
For many of those present, it was the first time they had ever seen the Emperor—and from such a close distance, even if only vaguely through the crowd. But Qi Junmu stood there, his presence overwhelming, and everyone felt that their Emperor was indeed splendid to behold.
Ruan Jiqing glanced at the stunned gatekeeper and sighed inwardly. Truly, there were far too few people in this world who could serve the Emperor as calmly as he did. Look at this gatekeeper—the man had gone completely dumbstruck.
After escorting the Emperor a couple of steps forward, Su Ren stepped up and barked at A Zhuang, "His Majesty has arrived! Is Marquis Zhenbei present?"
A Zhuang licked his lips. Standing before the Emperor, he felt a mix of fear and nervousness—but above all, joy. He had actually seen the Emperor in the flesh! That was something most ordinary people would never get to do in their entire lives.
Hearing Su Ren's sharp reprimand, A Zhuang snapped back to his senses and said, "The Marquis... the Marquis is... he's ill." In his fluster, he had forgotten to bow and forgotten to open the gate.
"Ill?" Qi Junmu said.
Su Ren seized the opportunity and said, "Your Majesty, since the Marquis is unwell, it would not be appropriate for him to receive you. Why not return to the palace and send a physician to attend to him instead?"
"It matters not," Qi Junmu said calmly. "I am protected by the True Dragon's aura. I have no fear of such malarial vapors."
[Malarial vapors (瘴气, zhàngqì): a traditional Chinese concept describing a noxious, disease-causing vapor from swampy or forested tropical areas, historically associated with malaria and other fevers.]
Su Ren kept his expression neutral, but inside he was scoffing. True Dragon's aura, sacred words of gold—those were just flattering phrases ministers made up to please the Emperor. And he actually believed them.
They called the Emperor "Ten Thousand Years," yet no emperor had ever lived ten thousand years—not even a hundred.
Su Ren was roasting him fiercely in his mind, but he dared not show it, nor did he dare oppose the Emperor's words. To object again would be to walk straight into the jaws of death—the Emperor already had a poor impression of him, and he still wanted to live.
Ruan Jiqing then stepped forward and told A Zhuang to open the gate. Ruan Jiqing had a delicate appearance and a clear, bright voice. Having spent these years in the palace by Qi Junmu's side, he lived well. If one did not know he was a eunuch, one might have taken him for a pampered son of a wealthy family.
A jolt ran through A Zhuang's heart. He quickly came to his senses and threw open the main gate. For the first time, Qi Junmu entered the Marquis Zhenbei's residence as Emperor.
A Zhuang followed inside and grabbed a few servants at random to pass on the news.
Both Old Madam Shen and Shen Nian received word.
Ruan Jiqing asked where Shen Nian's courtyard was and led the Emperor straight there.
He sighed inwardly. The Emperor was truly willful—walking all the way there by foot. Wouldn't a palanquin have been better?
Shen Nian was indeed ill. He had just taken his medicine and was sleeping soundly. Truth be told, the Marquis Zhenbei household now had only two masters: Old Madam Shen and Shen Nian.
Old Madam Shen's courtyard was some distance from Shen Nian's. Shen Nian didn't like having people around him, and the servants in his courtyard kept their distance—in fact, they were somewhat afraid of him. So much so that by the time Qi Junmu reached the courtyard, they were still debating who should go and wake Shen Nian.
But the Emperor did not put them in a difficult spot. After confirming which room Shen Nian was sleeping in, he walked straight in.
Ruan Jiqing was utterly astonished. He truly no longer understood what the Emperor was trying to do. Surely this was not how one went about "praising someone to death"—and once this performance began, there was no stopping it.
---
Shen Nian had always enjoyed good health and rarely fell ill. Even when he suffered minor wounds on the battlefield, as long as they were treated promptly, he seldom developed a fever. But this time, after leaving the palace, he had fallen sick.
Shen Nian was not afraid of pain or of bleeding—but he dreaded bitter medicine.
Still, since he was ill, he had forced himself to drink several doses. Perhaps it was because he was so terrified of the medicine that in his dream, he seemed to smell that bitter, scalp-numbing medicinal odor again.
At that thought, a chill ran through Shen Nian's heart, and his eyes snapped open.
He stared at the bed curtains, panting a few times. Perhaps because of the fever, his mind was not entirely clear. After a moment, he sensed another presence in the room.
Shen Nian sat up abruptly and saw someone sitting not far away.
He blinked. Then blinked hard. After a long pause, he rasped in disbelief, "Your Majesty?"
No comments:
Post a Comment