Chapter Sixteen

She stepped out of Kunyu Hall and descended the stairs, unable to find her own way out, requiring an attendant to guide her through the Chenhui Gate. When she arrived, the attendant was an unremarkable young eunuch with light steps; but on the way back, she was oddly drawn to look again—it was an old eunuch.

His gray robe was worn and faded from countless washings, his headwrap frayed at the seams, and his entire figure appeared pitiful. Yet his face was even more forlorn than his clothing. If Sima Yi had such a face, he wouldn’t have needed to feign illness to deceive Cao Shuang!

This was truly inhumane. Usually, such duties were assigned to young eunuchs: their agility ensured no delays, and it preserved the dignity of the elders. Sending an old eunuch, especially one whose legs were unsteady and whose attire was shabby, was peculiar indeed.

She took a step, and he had to take two. She took another step, and he not only took two but also staggered slightly, his gaunt frame seeming ready to collapse at any moment.

The imperial princess’s mind wandered to unsettling possibilities. For instance, her father had bestowed money and silk upon her, yet it hadn’t reached her hands. What if this old man suddenly collapsed with a thud? What then of the medical expenses? That money was hers! Her money! A tiny voice inside her leapt and screamed, steam practically rising from it.

The old eunuch glanced at her and said, “This old servant is feeble and unfit. If the imperial princess is displeased, I shall request Gao Ban to send a younger attendant to escort you from the palace.”

She looked at him again, still puzzled—who would send such a decrepit man so close to the emperor? Was it a deliberate provocation toward His Majesty?

“No matter, no matter,” she slowed her pace. “This is my first time at Yanfu Palace. Walking slowly allows me to enjoy the scenery. It’s no trouble.”

The old eunuch revealed a toothless smile and bowed humbly.

The garden remained overwhelmingly opulent, pavilions and towers near and far like strokes from a painting. As she walked, occasional glints caught her eye—gems, pearls, colored glass, gold and silver—trifles used as decorations embedded into the palace walls. She frowned in disapproval and glanced back at the old eunuch, who still stooped low and shuffled along slowly.

At such an age, to be denied retirement and the comfort of grandchildren—though eunuchs had no direct heirs, they had many ‘grandchildren’ nonetheless. Just like the official Wang Shang Gong she had recently met, who regarded Liang Shicheng as his father—truly his own. Wang’s descendants were Liang’s descendants; this was an accurate, objective, and entirely fair statement, lacking any bitterness.

She gazed for a while longer at this cruel emblem of the feudal dynasty and the sweat-born fruits of the laboring people, silently delivering a monologue in her mind. Soon they reached the Chenhui Gate.

During the day, the palace gates stood open, guarded by soldiers inside and out, with eunuchs standing vigil outside, awaiting someone unknown.

“We’ve arrived at Chenhui Gate,” she said. “Old sir, you needn’t escort me further. The sun is strong; you should rest.”

The old eunuch waved his hand. “The imperial princess is kind to this old servant, but I must not rely on my age to overstep my bounds.”

With those words, he mustered the strength to take two more steps, bringing them to the palace entrance.

Outside, a young eunuch sunning himself spotted her and hurried over. “Imperial Princess, His Majesty has issued a decree.”

She blinked, bewildered. “Ah?”

The young eunuch smiled, pointing to the frail old eunuch behind her. “His Majesty has assigned eunuch Cao Fu to attend the Imperial Princess, accompanying you to Xingyuan Prefecture.”

She was even more confused, looking again at the old man—still breathless, seemingly ready to collapse at any moment, trembling as if preparing to kneel and offer a grand salute.

But one bow like that might mean he wouldn’t rise again! Alarmed, she quickly helped him up.

“Such an elderly gentleman, how could he endure the long journey?” she asked. “Can Father not assign someone else?”

“No,” the young eunuch replied with a grin. “Aged as he is, his grandson will perform the salute for you, Imperial Princess.”

Youth had its advantages! The young eunuch promptly dropped to the ground in a perfect prostration.

…No, she had known eunuchs could have grandchildren!

Her carriage, though less grand than the imperial coach, was still spacious. Yet Master Cao remained resolute, sitting only with the coachmen, firmly refusing to share the carriage with the princess.

The two young maidens inside appeared dazed.

She discreetly peeked through the curtain and saw three children riding mules, equally dazed.

After all, encountering a Dou Zong—a powerful cultivator far beyond their combined ages—was terrifying to all.

At such an advanced age, being exiled to Shu was a cruel fate indeed.

Yet the girls remained silent, not uttering a word or offering comfort.

She too was silent.

The imperial palace was no place for casual words. Baolu Palace was no different. Even at their tender ages, they had learned to speak cautiously, knowing what could be said and what must remain unspoken. Judging by the young eunuch’s deference toward Cao Fu, he was no mere minor figure.

And yet, this significant figure, dressed in shabby clothes, was sent out to feign weakness—this was unusual indeed.

So no idle chatter! If the urge became unbearable, she could always talk to the little yellow duck.

Only three boys, raised without indulgence and under parental care, were somewhat talkative.

“Old sir…”

This was the first to speak, A’er Wang Poshikai, immediately interrupted by the eldest, Zhao Yan.

“That address is truly disrespectful!”

A’er hesitated. “Big brother, what should we call him then?”

So soon, they had arranged their ranks!

The eldest spoke: “Honored Elder!”

The three girls inside the carriage began to shake with suppressed laughter.

“Honored Elder”—a respectful title for eunuchs favored by the emperor. Outsiders would flatter a eunuch with such a title, much like calling a businessman “boss” or a teacher “professor,” regardless of correctness, simply to put them at ease.

But “Old Honored Elder” sounded fantastical indeed!

The girls covered their mouths, giggling as the old eunuch chatted with the three silly boys.

In less than a short incense stick’s time, they learned nothing of the old eunuch’s background, but their own names, clan origins, and family positions were thoroughly extracted. Yet the old eunuch praised them as “alert,” “precocious,” and possessing “the noble air of young lords, destined for greatness!”

Unable to resist, she peeked through the curtain once more. The youngest boy turned to her with a face full of joy, as if bringing good news: “The Old Honored Elder is truly a good man!”

She hastily drew the curtain back down.

The carriage moved slowly as the bustle of daily life gradually emerged.

Suddenly, the old eunuch spoke up in front, “Imperial Princess, would you like to disembark and walk a while?”

To walk!

Nervous, she glanced at the maidens beside her, then peeked outside.

Her carriage had stopped by the bridgehead—an illegal parking spot. No horn blared behind her to urge her on.

Of course, this was trivial. What mattered was the crowd on the bridge! Stalls lined the bridge, people squatted by their wares, gesturing animatedly, some passed by pointing and chatting, others holding goods or munching, leaning over the railing to watch boats pass below, where more people were aboard.

Both above and below the bridge, many wore bright green leaves atop their heads!

“This bridge…” she asked excitedly, gathering her words, “Can our carriage pass through?”

“Though crowded with stalls,” Master Cao replied, “Longjin Bridge remains passable, just slowly.”

“We didn’t come this way before,” she said.

“You wished to see Bianjing City,” he said. “This is an appropriate route.”

See what? She stepped down, instantly attracting many curious eyes. The green-leafed women and children marveled at the young girl in a Taoist robe descending from such a grand carriage, guarded by a dozen riders.

What was there to guard? Bianjing teemed with runaway street urchins of both sexes, nothing special. A vendor with a small cart noticed her standing there, eyes darting, and quickly offered three freshly cut jujube leaves shaped like little rabbits: “Celestial children! Celestial children! The freshest jujube leaves, most skillfully cut! Only three wen apiece, or three for ten wen!”

The celestial child involuntarily turned toward her companion, “Jilan… no!”

She angrily turned back. “How do you figure that count?”

Master Cao strolled over slowly, producing a cloth pouch.

Though he made a small calculation, the cutting was indeed exquisite and worth the price.

He reached for his money, but she stopped him.

“Imperial Princess, fear not,” the old eunuch waved the pouch toward her, emitting a pleasant clinking sound more melodious than copper coins. “This is the princess’s money.”

In that moment, happiness filled her heart.

“Then buy more, shall we?” she said. “Let everyone have some. Oh, I don’t want the little rabbits—do you have little deer? And that one! Is that a magnolia flower shape? Two of those, please! Jilan, Peilan, each take one. Yes, yes, very good. And you three young gentlemen… no, I mean you three young lords, and the attendants...”

The vendor was ecstatic. “Celestial children! I offer you the lowest price! This time, truly sincere!”

With green leaves crowning her head, she crossed Longjin Bridge. Night had not yet fallen, but many stalls were already set up.

Along the way, all manner of goods were sold, especially now, when summer stalls hadn’t yet been dismantled. There were sugar ice balls, crystal soaps, pickled papaya, sugar green bean and licorice iced drinks, lychee paste, wild mustard melon, salted vegetables, apricot slices, plum ginger, lettuce shoots—all still available.

When cold weather came, freshly roasted pork skin, wild duck, drip pastry, crystal jelly, fried cakes, pig offal, and the like would also be displayed.

Having eaten light food for more than ten years, she dared not overindulge. She bought some plum ginger, wrapped it in paper, and held it close, feeling comforted inside. Guards forced to accompany her also bought snacks to bring home, but they were better buyers. They warned the princess not to be deceived by pretty stalls; they knew which places had the best food. For example, the jujubes were excellent these days and worth buying, but for a proper meal, one should go to Pan’s Restaurant for fried cakes, or to the famous Zhu Family Bridge. Those with colorful banners were upscale restaurants!

Besides food, many came to perform songs; she could eat while listening.

The guards spoke animatedly until someone sharply tapped one on the shoulder, silencing him.

The two approached the princess together.

She seemed unaware.

Standing on a street she did not recognize, watching unfamiliar faces bustling by, busy with their own affairs—whether sorrow or joy, their hearts were always full. Their sorrow stemmed from the present, but tomorrow might bring change; their joy was momentary, yet the future held promise.

They sang and drank, paused and watched as the city’s jujube leaves fluttered in profusion.

Only she stood alone, in the ruins of future Bianliang, gazing at the fading shadows of its past grandeur.

“Is she leaving, and that’s why she seems so reluctant?”

A boy whispered.

“She will return, surely.”

A girl turned, shooting them a sharp glance.