Qinglian Chronicles-Chapter 73

Starting today, QC’s update schedule will change to twice a week on Tues-Thurs.

[As always, thanks for reading.

The word used for him is technically translated King (王), he’s not a King of much, and though I used Prince, it’s not synonymous with a European prince.]

The one who came is Prince Liang.

As one of the Guardian Ministers, I had nearly forgotten this man’s existence. He’s an older cousin on the former Emperor’s father’s side and is considered a fairly close relative of the imperial household. Because he’s in poor health, he’s been living in seclusion all this time. His fiefdom isn’t too far from here.

He arrived with a great amount of pomp and circumstance.

There’s several hundred guards, servants of the house, and more than a hundred carts full of food.

Reportedly, because he’d heard that refugees had gathered like flies here with the old and the young starving to death by the day, corpses abandoned by the road, he’d deliberately overturned all that he had and came bearing food, being a firm believer in Buddhism and showing mercy.

To such kindness, the affected citizens are naturally lined up along the street in welcome.

It’s impossible for me not to be curious about him, and besides, it’s proper etiquette that we should pay him a visit. Thusly, Zhou Zizhu and I straighten up our appearances and go to the governor’s residence where Prince Liang is staying.

Him being in this house is like a fenghuang in a chicken coop, with even the guardian lions at the entrance being a tiny bit proud. The black jujube-wood entryway gives a bit of an air of being a noble’s home that the lower classes could never enter, making my own Residence’s entryway seem poorly in contract. Those stationed at the gate have also been switched for Prince Liang’s silver-armored guards.

We dismount our rides in front of the doorway, people coming down to take our horses. Ah-San had come with us, but accompanying servants are not allowed to enter the main hall. The governor welcomed us, saying, “He’s retired for the night into the Mind-Cleansing Pavilion. Our Liege is of weak health and somewhat unable to bear the fatigue from the long road.” His voice is deliberately lowered, as if even a bit of loudness will pass several buildings over and disturb His Royal Princeliness’s little nap.

Hiding away my disgust, I look at his rat face and give a light smile. “It must be hard for His Liege to be in poor health yet still have the heart to worry for the people.”

The governor hurriedly said, “Yes, yes, there’s so many officials who’ve come afterwards to have an audience with His Liege. This lowly official is afraid of disturbing Him and refuses to take his own initiative, but you two Sirs are naturally not the same.” He looks at me with a cajoling smile.

Zhou Zizhu waved his sleeve with an uninterested expression. “Please lead the way, then.”

There are still some pavilions, rock gardens, and stream with small bridges in the governor’s inner residence. We thread through some small footpaths and push aside some willow branches and peach blossoms. There are many guards standing around us as we come up to that Heart-Cleansing whatever, making security quite tight. The governor goes up to inform them, and the guard watching the door turns around and goes in. A while later, out comes a 30-something-year-old literary type with very tidy-looking dark clothes. Though his garments are plain, his mannerisms are calm and confident and his presence is most out of the ordinary. I’m only here for Prince Liang, but as luck would have it, in order to prevent my stuffing from being exposed after I came here, carefully observing everything and following slightly behind other people’s lead has already become second nature. I immediately shoot a glance at Zhou Zizhu out of the corner of my eye; seeing him stand in place with no expression, I also hold back my troops and make no movement.

Sure enough, that dark-clothed scribe came forwards, clasped in hand in greeting towards us, smiling from ear to ear. “Sir Zhang, Sir Zhou. My higher-up has just settled down to rest, our horses weary, and is resting in the noon. Please go to the waiting room first so that you both may be served tea.”

We said some polite words and then went in with him. The scribe is very courteous to us, but doesn’t even look at the governor, nor does he invite him to come with.

Though the quality of the table and chairs seen inside the room were common, the way they were set up was artfully done. There were some well-done calligraphic works and paintings hung up on the wall, and on the table was an ebony brush-holder, a white jade brush-wash, and a green porcelain flower vase of an antiquated look; I can’t tell its origins, but it seems to be uncommon. Further still are half-worn inked cotton hand pillows and upholstery, causing those to look at them to forget their lack of rarity.

The scribe saw me sizing up the decor and grinned. “This place was originally uninhabited. This lower one tidied it up to make it barely presentable for visitors. This far from home, I had no option but to make it simple.”

We sit opposite each other. Zhou Zizhu swept his eyes across a picture of plum blossoms and suddenly startled. “This authentic painting is actually here?”

The dark-clothed man beamed. “Our Liege is good at painting. This one is from His personal collection.”

Hmph. Coming so far from home to come help disaster victims and not even forgetting to bring his porcelain and paintings with; I really can’t tell what kind of person Prince Liang is. I can’t make sense of art so it’s hard for me not to be bored, but in any case, this dark-clothed literati doesn’t look the type to be willing to live life as a lowly servant. I smile towards him, politely asking, “Forgive my rudeness, but I still don’t know what this esteemed brother’s name is?”

He promptly said, “I wouldn’t dare be esteemed. My lowly family name is Wei, and I’m only a very minor hanger-on that does little but eat under His Liege’s roof, unknown and unheard of. That Sir Zhang doesn’t know me is to be expected.”

A quiet and pretty young maidservant in green clothes brought in tea. It’s naturally a good tea whose scent sticks to one’s teeth, but of course, I’m not about to drink any tea.

Prince Liang is pretty arrogant, making us wait no less than a full shichen. The Wei man entered and exited several times in the interim, and the last time he did, he finally said, “His Liege has awoken. Please follow me, you two.”

We got up and followed him, and he whispered along the way. “His Liege is somewhat unwell and cannot suffer the wind. I’m sorry to trouble you two to go to the inner rooms.”

At the doorway, he even cautiously lightened the sound of his footsteps by a lot. Influenced by him, we subconsciously hold our breath and steel our expressions.

Opening the curtains and going in, the interior has a spot of a soothing floral fragrance, white mist curling about. Another sniff, and I can tell it’s a bit like Catalan jasmine with a partial medicinal scent, but I’m unable to tell what it is. I then heard a bout of coughing, which started off very light but continued to get more fierce until it ended with sounding like the coughing up of blood, or even coughing up internal organs. Listening off to the side, I feel empathically unwell all over.

He had a hard time gradually settling himself. We sit before the window on a as Prince Liang leaned on a lounge, a plain white muslin curtain hanging before him of which he was vaguely visible behind. There’s apparently a black-clothed man standing behind him, probably a personal bodyguard or the like.

A young maid came and hung up half the curtain by a gold hook, and I finally saw the true face of Prince Liang: being the late Emperor’s older cousin, he should be about 35 years old, but that can’t be seen at all. Slowly lifting his face away from the handkerchief covering his mouth, still finely gasping from his severe coughing fit having just barely stopped, the biggest impression someone could get is that he’s very unhealthy. His skin is pallid, almost a little translucent, yet his hair is very dark.

He could be said to be rather pretty, though pale and thin, and different from Yuan Qingyun’s vivacious looks. His sort is mournful and piteous, his face giving me a sense of smooth and distinguished charm when it’s in fact very sharp and angular.

I determine this upon first sight: he makes me uncomfortable. There’s an unknown, severe something within his frail body, and that’s where my discomfort is.

King Liang started to speak, voice a bit hoarse. “I heard you all had just arrived yesterday. The road isn’t easy, it must have been hard for you.”

We promptly give a slight bow. “It was nothing,” I say, “Your Liege is ill yet still thinks of the citizens. Qinglian admires that.”

Though I’m a Guardian Minister, the other is still a Prince and should be saluted when I see him.

Prince Liang smiled. “Qinglian, the last time I’d seen you was the last Emperor had just found you to enter the palace, and that was– koff, koff– five, six years ago… hah… he’d gone so suddenly… I’m afraid that, that period of time was hard for this Prince, because I’d suddenly gotten horribly ill… I couldn’t even go to the capital to congratulate his Majesty for ascending the throne…” His body then stooped down, spasming with coughs all over as if his lungs were cracking and heart was tearing a scarlet, morbid red upon his pale face.

I feel sick just watching, hating that I couldn’t go and pat him on the back a few times. The black-clothed guard behind him kept waiting and didn’t move.

Prince Liang barely manages to stop coughing, breathing once again, the fit having left some tears in his eyes. “Sor– koffkoffkoff… Sorry for this poor display… I heard that you all had started to aid the people yesterday. That’s very good, I’ll just have– kff– the grain I brought sent to the congee kitchen…”

Zhou Zizhu probably couldn’t stand to see this, as he said, “Your Liege is in poor health and should simply take good care of himself. These lower officials find it unsuitable to bother you much, so we ask to be excused.”

Prince Liang coughed for a while more. “Very well. I have nothing but little trinkets for gifts… but they’re from my heart. Xiao Tu, go an give them to the two sirs.”

There was some movement within the canopy, and then the black-clothed person moved out exasperatingly slowly, first coming up in front of me. I vaguely feel that this person is somewhat familiar and very nearly call out for Jinzi, but looking up again, I found that their looks and stature are completely unalike. This one is also a handsome youth, seemingly older than Jinzi is, with a rather pretty face that’s rigidly without expression. I can’t help but get the shivers.

Prince Liang gifted me a bracelet of sardonyx and Zhou Zizhu a jasper pixiu paperweight. They genuinely aren’t big gifts, more like trivial things, but it gives all the more a feeling of rare close thoughtfulness. We know that we can’t refuse at this time, as a refusal will just set a dividing line with Prince Liang and make us enemies, so we take them with thanks and take our leave.

When we went out, there was quite an assembly of victims outside the governor’s residence. They kowtow far from the interior, mumble for Prince Liang to have a long life, and entirely shed tears of gratitude for him. There’s a pale-haired old woman who kowtowed and gazed at the sky, talking to herself, “Gods above, under your watchful eyes, bless this man for a long life of a hundred years, and have those corrupt officials’ lives cut off to fuel his own…”

Due to Prince Liang’s timing and bringing food for the disaster relief, we’re actually being taken as his troops that he sent ahead in advance. A royal character is more appealing to the average citizen, so it’s only natural that our previous efforts were recorded in his name and our credits shifted over.

Returning to the courier’s station, I was slightly tired, so I went back to my room to rest. Xiao Lu came to attend to me, looking as if he’s pouting and seething. I can’t help but ask, “What happened?”

Not asking was better, as once I asked, Xiao Lu spoke furiously, “The people on the street are saying ‘Prince Liang, Prince Liang’, when obviously that 500,000 came from you, Sir!”

I promptly say with a straight face, “Who said it came from me? I lent it from wealthy businessmen on behalf of the Court. Where would I get so much money?”

Xiao Lu looks at me doubtfully, a bit unwilling to concede. “Oh.”

Seeing him like that, I soften up. “Xiao Lu,” I say gently, “You need to remember that as an official, the most taboo thing you can do is buy your name and reputation to sway the people’s hearts. That would incite disaster upon you. Therefore, Prince Liang taking our credit can be seen as not a bad thing at all for us.”

Xiao Lu seemed like he both did and didn’t understand, and said after a long time of thinking, “Then is Prince Liang not afraid of inciting disaster?”

My heart suddenly jumped from his unintentional wording, and I got lost in thought for a good while, only able to quietly say, “Maybe… he isn’t.”

After dinner, due to my weariness, I went to sleep early, Hong Feng readying the bed for me as I withdrew. Just as I was about to turn out the lights and lay down, there was a squeak from the window frame. I felt a burst of joy, saying hopefully, “Is that you, Jinzi?” The window was then lifted open, revealing a face as bright and pretty as a flower.

I feel a wave of disappointment at first, then felt an inexplicable shock: there was the Huihu Princess that should have returned to the Western Regions long ago.

*qiaochu voice* how the hell are you people always finding me

Xiao Tu has a rather sinister name. Tu (屠) means “slaughter” and is a part of nothing but murder-based words.