Extra Chapter Two: The Moon of That Time, Which Once Illuminated the Return of the Painted Clouds (2)

I set out from Guangling, traveling through Chuyin, Jiangdong, Bohai, Baiyue, Shunan, and the Northern Territories. It took me ten years to roam across the four seas and the various kingdoms, and day by day, my heart grew tranquil.

Many years passed. I was in a tavern in Daxiang when I heard the patrons sighing repeatedly, saying that the Empress of the neighboring kingdom had passed away from illness three days prior.

"Is that the descendant of the renowned General Feihong from thirty years ago, the Empress from the Pei family of the Marquis of Wujing’s estate in the Yi Kingdom?"

"Who else could it be? The Emperor of Yi is a man of deep affection; she was his only Empress throughout his life, and he held her in the highest regard."

I set down my cel瓷 cup, stunned for a long while, a lump forming in my throat. I decided to return to Guangling; perhaps I could still make it in time to see her off on her final journey.

Outside the Jiuhua Gate, I held no official rank, and the new imperial guards did not recognize me, refusing me entry to the palace. Clad in green, I waited for a long time by the palace walls until someone finally brought me inside.

Sitting in the carriage of Prince An, I asked him, "Is His Majesty well?"

Prince An, who in his youth had been a man of romance and elegance, now had a significant amount of gray hair at his temples. He said in a low voice, "Princess Yongchen is with His Majesty day and night, so there is no need to worry too much."

Yongchen is eleven this year—radiant as the stars, glowing like a lotus, with a graceful neck and a fair, delicate complexion. As she stood gracefully on the jade steps of the Changqiu Palace, with the April breeze brushing against her face, I almost thought I saw Qianqian. She had been that very age when I left the Zhenqing Temple.

I walked up to her and stood in silence for a long time.

"Are you Uncle Mingchen? Mother often spoke of you." Her eyes were crystal clear, like a shimmering galaxy.

"This commoner pays his respects to Your Highness," I said with a smile, bowing.

My Qianqian was a frail, orphaned girl; the young lady before me was the most noble princess of the realm. She was the Emperor’s most beloved daughter, a jewel nurtured in the palace with the finest care. My Qianqian could not compare.

In the Taining Palace, I saw Fu Lanchen once again.

"Ten years have passed; Your Majesty has changed much."

Seeing it was me, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes. "Ten years have passed; you, too, have changed a great deal."

We spoke only briefly before he showed signs of fatigue. He instructed a youth in light green robes to guide me to the Empress’s mourning hall to pay my respects. "Prince Yongning, accompany Master Nangong to the Baohua Hall on my behalf."

"As you command, Father," he bowed low.

On the way to the Baohua Hall, we spoke almost not at all, yet I observed him quietly. This was Prince Yongning, the Emperor’s adopted son. His features were upright; he lacked the stunning beauty of Princess Yongchen, but he possessed a dignified air and a steady demeanor. In his every gesture, one could glimpse the bearing of a future wise ruler—he was truly worthy of being the child she had raised herself.

***

I stayed in Guangling for half a year this time. Fu Lanchen came to see me and asked if I would be willing to serve as a tutor to the Crown Prince. I knew the Crown Prince he referred to was the boy from before, Prince Yongning.

"Your Majesty, there are many learned scholars and talented young men from the Cao, Xu, and Lu families already in court. I am old now; why burden me?"

Fu Lanchen cast me a cold glance. "You speak constantly of being a 'commoner.' When did I ever strip the Nangong family of their title?"

I smiled and said nothing. Both young royals were exceptionally gifted and had been raised with great poise; there was no need for me to intervene. "However, Prince Yongning resides in the capital year-round. I have traveled far and wide; if he wishes to come to my home to hear stories of the countryside, I would be most happy to oblige."

The next day, just as I finished breakfast, I saw Prince Yongning outside my gate, with Princess Yongchen standing behind him.

I looked around, somewhat annoyed. "Your Highnesses, how can you travel without attendants?"

Princess Yongchen came forward with a playful smile. "Don't worry, Uncle Mingchen. My brother and I have both studied martial arts; we can protect ourselves." Prince Yongning nodded. "Don't worry, Uncle, I will protect my sister."

I did not argue with them; instead, I went to the palace and scolded Fu Lanchen. He listened with great patience for half an hour until the Marquis of Yonggu spoke up: "Don't worry, Prince Ningdu. I had secret guards follow them, but I didn't tell them. Now that you know, please don't let on, or Yongchen will surely give me a hard time." I was left speechless, not knowing what to say.

A fortnight later, I finally understood the Marquis’s words. Yongchen was truly too restless. When I told them of the customs of small neighboring states or frontier lands, she listened with such excitement, clamoring to go to Shunan one moment and the East Sea the next, even mentioning that the Princess of Daxiang had invited her to stay in Pingcheng. Though she was the same age as Qianqian, Qianqian had been much more gentle and quiet.

Whenever I looked troubled, Prince Yongning would help me calm her down. He was a sensible, good boy. I heard he had begun to attend court, yet he still accompanied Yongchen in all her mischief.

They arrived alone again today. It was drizzling, and seeing the damp locks on Yongchen’s forehead, I reached for my handkerchief to wipe them, only to discover a scratch on her temple.

"She fell yesterday when we went to the Cao estate," Prince Yongning said, lowering his head.

I was stunned. "The gates of the Cao estate are wide and flat; how could she fall?"

"We climbed over the wall," Prince Yongning murmured. "We didn't take the main entrance."

I: "..."

Seeing I was about to be angry, Yongchen quickly laughed, trying to charm me. "The Cao family has six unmarried daughters; I was just helping my brother scout them out. Uncle, you know my brother is nearly thirty and still hasn't settled his marriage. My father is very anxious, so I'm just helping him share the burden."

The "brother" she spoke of was, naturally, the adopted son of the Emperor and the late Empress, the Marquis of Yonggu, Pei Zhun. I was so frustrated I tapped Yongchen on the forehead. "How old are you, worrying about the Marquis of Yonggu when your own studies are a mess?"

"Is it the Imperial Tutor complaining again? You uncles are so annoying!" Her tutor was the third son of the Xu family, whom she also had to address as uncle.

Watching her fearless, wild spirit, I began to worry for Fu Lanchen regarding her future marriage. Ordinary men would not be able to handle her, and men of extraordinary talent might not focus on matters of the heart. Since she was the Emperor’s only daughter, how could she ever suffer a grievance? Although the old saying goes that an emperor's daughter need not worry about marriage, the reality is rarely so smooth.

I worried about this for many years.

A new Emperor ascended the throne, changing the era name to Xining. In the early second year of Xining, it was said the Emperor of Dayue sent envoys to request the hand of Princess Yongchen. After the new Emperor refused, the envoys still would not leave, and the Emperor eventually kicked them out of the Deqing Hall himself. Not only that, but the Crown Prince of Daxiang also came to propose; before he could finish his sentence, the Emperor stated firmly, "I have only one sister, Yongchen. She shall not marry far away, nor shall she be sent for a political marriage."

Since those events, everyone in the world joked that the new Emperor cherished Princess Yongchen even more than his own eyes. As she passed eighteen without marrying, the ministers urged the Emperor until a decree was finally issued: The Emperor decided to invest Princess Yongchen as the Princess of Chen, granting her the right to choose her own husband.

Since the founding of the Yi Kingdom, there had never been a precedent for a princess to be invested as a Prince, and the officials naturally disagreed. The young Emperor, usually gentle and clear-headed, said with iron resolve: "With the Empress gone and the late Emperor resting in peace, of all the vast world and within the palace walls, Yongchen is my only kin." His heart to grant her the title was absolute.

On the eve of Fu Lanchen’s official investiture of the Crown Prince, I once asked, "If the new Emperor ascends the throne and wishes to posthumously honor his biological parents, how should one respond?"

Fu Lanchen brushed his wide sleeves and said calmly, "It is human nature; there is nothing wrong with it. The Empress and I have never cared for such things."

I pursed my lips. Fine, if Fu Lanchen didn't care, why should I fret?

Life is but a grand dream; the drifting clouds rise and fall, life is brief, and eventually, we must part.

In the eighth year of Xining, I heard that Princess Chen was selecting a husband and had chosen the youngest son of the Yuwen family of Liaodong.

"The Prince of Liaodong has several sons; why did the Princess choose a son of a concubine?"

"If he is a son of a concubine, he must possess extraordinary qualities to have caught the Princess’s eye; otherwise, His Majesty would never have agreed to this union."

Despite what was said, I decided to go to Guangling to meet this young man. My carriage passed through the wilds of Shunan, where a field of lotus flowers was in full bloom. I heard a singer chanting:

"...The moon of that time still remains, having once shone upon the return of the colorful clouds..."

After the dream, the terrace is locked tight; the wine fades, and the curtains hang low. The sorrows of last spring return. Among falling flowers, one stands alone; in the light rain, swallows fly in pairs.

I remember when I first met Little Ping, in her double-heart embroidered robes. On the strings of the pipa, she spoke of longing. The moon of that time still remains, having once shone upon the return of the colorful clouds.