"Bestow an umbrella."
The discussion at Shoukang Palace did not last long before His Majesty departed. For one thing, with the Empress Dowager presiding, the Emperor and his future empress could only gaze at each other through a screen—the atmosphere was solemn, leaving little to discuss. For another, the rain was indeed growing heavier.
When His Majesty departed, everyone at Shoukang Palace except the Empress Dowager knelt in a dark mass in the rain to pay their respects—a grand and solemn scene.
The servants of the Palace of Heavenly Purity itself were more at ease. Liu Lun knocked his head loudly against the ground and wheedled in a soft, thin voice: "Your Majesty, the rain is heavy. Walking may harm Your Majesty's sacred person. Please take the imperial litter."
Hanzheng gazed out at the rain and said, neither warm nor cold, "You servant, deciding things on my behalf now, are you?"
Liu Lun wore the pitiful look of a loyal servant, the corners of his lips curling. "This servant's eyes hold only Your Majesty. My one and only thought is fear that you'll catch a chill. Your Majesty mustn't laugh at this servant."
"Enough." Hanzheng flicked his long sleeve, sweeping through the rain-mist and cool breeze.
Xiansi had long since taken her place beside the litter. She lifted the curtain, set down the steps, and raised a large, gleaming yellow oilcloth umbrella. The deep blue of the sky mingled with the bright yellow, and within the umbrella's glow, one appeared both vivid and dimmed.
She was more than a head shorter than he, so holding the umbrella took some effort. But it did not stop her from doing her duty well. The oilcloth umbrella hovered above his head at a distance neither too far nor too near, covering him completely—not a single corner of his robe would get wet.
An umbrella that shields from the rain yet is never felt—that is the highest art of serving someone.
She herself was drenched by the rain.
So were the other servants. Before the Emperor, none might raise an umbrella, lest it disorder the ceremony.
Hanzheng glanced sidelong at Xiansi. Beneath her lowered lashes, bright raindrops clung one by one, revealing her snow-white, delicate neck. Her whole bearing was unadorned and natural as she stood in the rain, like a shallow stream flowing quietly in autumn.
The rain fell in sheets; the curtain of water cut him off beneath the umbrella like an isolated island—and she stood outside that island.
"Careful, Your Majesty." Upon reaching the litter, Xiansi positioned the umbrella at just the right angle first, so that no rain dripping from the litter roof would wet the imperial person.
Hanzheng boarded the litter and departed, but the oilcloth umbrella remained in her hands.
He turned back and rewarded her with a word: "Bestow an umbrella."
The servant serves with devotion; the master repays with generosity.
"Many thanks, Your Majesty!"
Xiansi promptly gave thanks for the imperial grace and raised the umbrella for herself. At last, the ceaseless rain stopped streaming down her cheek.
To hold an umbrella before the Emperor—an envy-inspiring favor indeed.
The surrounding servants had long since grown used to Xiansi's favor. She had been granted imperial dishes, and even leave during her menses. She alone enjoyed His Majesty's regard—what was an umbrella on a rainy day? Even the grand eunuch Liu Lun had to obediently don his rain gear and get soaked.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard bearing the ceremonial regalia flanked the procession front and back, guarding the sovereign of all under heaven. They were true kings of hell who killed without spilling blood—their flying-fish-robed figures stood formidable in the rain like iron towers, their Xiuchun sabers flashing cold light through the hazy curtain of rain.
As His Majesty departed, their perfectly synchronized steps rang out.
Compared with the previous reigns when eunuchs ran rampant, what truly held power in the present reign was the Embroidered Uniform Guard of the Directorate of Pacification.
The eunuchs belonged to the Directorate of Ceremonies; the Embroidered Uniform Guard belonged to the Directorate of Pacification. Both great organs of power were the Emperor's private instruments, serving as his blood-dripping tools—loyal instruments of execution.
In previous reigns, the Directorate of Ceremonies had gradually meddled in state affairs and come to control the country. Emperors needed them and tolerated them—a lone emperor had to find a power base to help him contend with the vast ranks of civil officials of the Grand Secretariat.
But the current Emperor had never played by convention. Upon ascending the throne, he abolished the Directorate of Ceremonies outright, facing the wily old foxes of the court head-on as a sovereign without allies.
As for spying, secret reports, eliminating rivals, arrests and interrogations—all of these were entrusted entirely to the Embroidered Uniform Guard of the Northern Directorate of Pacification, once suppressed by the Directorate of Ceremonies. They scaled rooftops and vaulted walls, lying low by day and moving by night, born for the savage rod of punishment.
Under severe torture, any case could be made.
In just one year, the Directorate of Pacification went from an obscure, ignored office to the most notorious yamen of all.
The civil officials and great ministers who upheld the moral order and rites, mouths full of ancestral precepts, feared the grim and terrifying imperial prison. They dared neither look directly into the darkness nor openly challenge the power of darkness.
The even darker shadow standing behind the Embroidered Uniform Guard was His Majesty.
The Guard's attitude represented the Emperor's attitude to a degree, and the Guard's temperament represented the Emperor's temperament to a degree as well. If the Embroidered Uniform Guard was dark, then the Emperor was certainly not light.
Xiansi felt a chill of dread and awe toward those guards. Though their paths never crossed—her rank as a palace maid was far too low to warrant their interrogation—seeing their ferocious, demon-like appearance, she kept as far away from them as possible.
The next day, the rain cleared into sunshine. The pines and cypresses, washed by the rain, showed shades of deep and light green; the slender streams, battered by wind and rain, inevitably bent and drooped. Dappled sunlight fell in patches, undried droplets still clung to the branch tips, and white summer clouds drifted one by one across the sky.
In a corner of Shanglin Garden reserved for the royal relatives to hunt and take spring outings, deep within the dense shade, a crowd of young princes and nobles had gathered. The one surrounded at the center like the moon among stars was none other than the reigning Emperor.
Hanzheng held a four-chi longbow that matched his tall, imposing frame. With tightly bound sleeves and trim riding attire, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his strength lay coiled beneath lean flesh. A terrifying aura of authority spread all around him, carrying the sharpness and edge of an assassin. The long arrow flew, leaving a black streak through the air—"thwack"—it struck the bullseye dead center, the fletching still trembling.
Waves of gasps and cheers erupted all around.
The Emperor had always excelled in both letters and arms, brilliant in each. Yet at such a spectacle, Xiansi, Liu Lun, and the other servants could not overstep and stare. Their duty was to stand like pillars and serve like shadows.
Moreover, the future Empress, Miss Jiang, was present. This was not a private gathering of the Palace of Heavenly Purity, so propriety and solemn etiquette had to be maintained all the more.
It had come about because the Empress Dowager, seeing the Emperor's lukewarm treatment of Miss Jiang, proposed an outing to the imperial garden so the two could spend time alone. But the Emperor, deliberately playing against the script, issued a verbal edict summoning more than a dozen princes.
The Emperor had no real objection to the gentle Miss Jiang—he mainly wished to spite the Empress Dowager, who sought to control everything.
From where Xiansi stood, she could only glimpse Miss Jiang wearing a veiled hat and a pale blue silk dress, lovely as a lotus blossom, every movement graceful and proper. As a lady, Miss Jiang quietly observed the proceedings, occasionally applauding and marveling, keeping a distance from the Emperor neither too near nor too far.
The arrow stood quivering in the bullseye, and after the crowd's admiration had run its course, Xiansi sent Chun'er to retrieve the bow and arrows. Chun'er held them in both hands; the arrow seemed longer and heavier than she was.
Liu Lun, meanwhile, bustled about tirelessly delivering tea, fruit, and pastries to the masters, his beaming smile bright as a flower—a veritable lapdog scurrying busily among them.
"In a while, you few need not follow along."
Liu Lun cleared his throat and gave the order to those attending the Emperor.
Any servant with sense would understand: His Majesty wished to walk alone with Miss Jiang. Of course, they could not abandon their posts entirely—standing at attention some three zhang away would suffice.
In the Shanglin Garden, the still pond shimmered with brilliant light under the sun. The scent of fresh grass and flowers mingled with the earth, wafting over in waves—the breath of open wilderness filled the lungs, clearing the mind and lifting the spirits.
His Majesty and Miss Jiang walked side by side. His Majesty's bearing was imposing as a snow-white spear—in motion like the wind, at rest like a pine—while Miss Jiang was gentle and modest, reserved and understated. One dynamic, one serene, they complemented each other perfectly.
Sunlight fell upon their shoulders. The future emperor and empress of the realm, their affection governed by propriety, their relationship harmonious and at ease. With an empress like her presiding over the six palaces, the inner court would likely remain as placid as this pond.
The dappled, tree-shaded path seemed to stretch on without end.
Miss Jiang came from a distinguished family—her ancestors were founding heroes of the dynasty. Raised from childhood in the etiquette of a noble lady and cherished as the apple of her parents' eye, she was elegant and refined, and soon to marry the foremost man in all the land. Her life had flowed smoothly along.
Xiansi, attending from a distance behind, could not help thinking of her own stingy uncle and aunt.
They were bloodsucking leeches. If she left the palace to marry into the Liu family, they would surely strip her bare.
Life in the palace, though hard and tiring, was at least far removed from those vile relatives. She had been an orphan from the start, relying on herself for everything; having grown used to loneliness, she no longer felt it.
After a long while, His Majesty concluded his meeting with Miss Jiang.
Xiansi signaled the attendants to come forward.
Miss Jiang performed a graceful curtsy with perfect courtesy and took her leave. "Your subject's daughter takes her leave." Her voice was soft yet clear.
Hanzheng watched the figure depart, then casually tossed something to Xiansi.
She caught it in her palm: a jade pendant carved in smooth, flowing auspicious-cloud patterns, its luster moist and translucent, cool to the touch—clearly a gift from Miss Jiang just now.
She considered for a moment, then silently wrapped it in silk to return to the storeroom. Such was the way of service: even things the master cared nothing for could not truly be thrown away. If one day the master went looking for it and found it missing, one would only suffer for it.
Hanzheng was in the prime of life, with exceptional stamina. Sometimes he would hold court on state affairs for four to six hours at a stretch, still vigorous, while the aging ministers who could not keep up complained bitterly. For a mere stretch of road from the Shanglin Garden to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, with the sun shining so pleasantly, he strode along briskly and would never ride in a palanquin.
The great procession of guards and attendants followed far behind; at his side was only Xiansi, a single maidservant.
When walking, he preferred quiet and solitude, and Xiansi happened to be as silent as a shadow, barely noticeable.
Beneath the secluded, imposing city walls, deep shade offered coolness as dragonflies circled. Her thin spring garment clung lightly to her body, neither cold nor warm—a leisurely stroll like this had its own quiet charm. The magnificent scenery of the Forbidden City unfolded like an unrolling scroll of painting, and she wandered as if within the picture itself.
"Just now, how many of the arrows I shot struck the bullseye?"
Xiansi recalled the arrows flying like swift meteors—by and large, none had missed; every shot had hit its mark.
"Your Majesty's archery is superb. Every arrow struck the bullseye. We servants could not help overstepping to steal a glimpse of your prowess."
"You watched as well?" He glanced sideways at her.
Xiansi felt a chill under his gaze and answered cautiously, "Yes, this servant could not resist either. I beg Your Majesty to punish me as you see fit."
"No matter." Hanzheng shook his head, like a pool of dark, gentle water. "There is nothing to punish."
Master and servant had been together a long time; they had settled into each other's ways. Though the distinction between superior and inferior remained, after so long under one roof, with companionship like family, many of the rules no longer needed to be strictly observed.
Xiansi realized an opportunity had presented itself—a perfect opportunity for flattery. The mood, the opening, everything had been set up just right.
She curtsied, revealing a kindly smile, and looked up with reverence as she said, "This servant has never witnessed archery as divine as Your Majesty's—hitting the mark from a hundred paces. It was truly breathtaking. My eyes have been opened."
Her words were not pure flattery.
In her own words, his movements were filled with a violent sense of power, like lightning. He was a spear, a flying arrow, a drawn blade.
Though it was flattery, in her heart she genuinely admired him.
Hanzheng's expression was clear and pleasant. Seeing her kneel again in formal courtesy, he reached out to help her up—a gesture he hadn't made in a long while. As their sleeves brushed, his hand touched her jade-white wrist.
Both of them froze.
He looked away and withdrew his hand, his gaze darkening somewhat.
Xiansi swallowed, rose to her feet on her own, and dared not move carelessly.
He smoothly changed the subject in a gentle voice: "The sky is clear and fine. There's no rush to return—let us stroll through the Imperial Garden."
She answered warmly in agreement and gladly attended him.
When it came to being a servant, no one in the outer court or the inner palace was as prominent as Xiansi. Wherever His Majesty went, she followed. With a great tree to lean against, one enjoys its shade—even the consorts did not spend as much time with His Majesty as an imperial chambermaid did.
By now, she had already decided never to leave the palace in this lifetime.
"I want to put up my hair and vow never to marry, like Senior Maid Jinshu." That day, in the servants' quarters below the west wing, she happened to confide her thoughts to Wang Fulu.
"It would make my status cleaner, and the master could use me with greater peace of mind."
"You'd better think this through—it's a matter for a whole lifetime."
Wang Fulu felt something was wrong the moment he heard it, and earnestly tried to persuade her: "Jinshu took this path only because her entire family died, and she volunteered to stay in the palace to care for the blind elderly Consort. Her life isn't as good as you imagine."
Right now she was attending the Imperial Person—she could have whatever she wished, glory at its height. But how long could she remain in the Imperial Presence?
Once the new Empress entered the palace and personnel changed, her glory would be scattered to the winds.
Wang Fulu said, "Look at your godfather. He toiled his whole life, and now he's all alone. Last night I saw him secretly crying in his blankets—his old rheumatic legs were acting up, and he doesn't even have anyone to see him off at the end."
Xiansi's face showed regret. She paused, then said, "His Majesty does treat godfather well—he granted him a residence on the outskirts of the capital."
"Can you be like your godfather? You're a palace maid. The ways of the palace are treacherous—fortune and misfortune can turn in a morning. Today you may be gloriously exalted, and tomorrow shattered to pieces."
"This is the only way I can remain at His Majesty's side."
She sighed helplessly. "His Majesty has shown me kindness."
Wang Fulu was silent for a long, long time before squeezing out a single sentence:
"Don't be a fool."
The new Empress was about to enter the palace, and the selection of consorts would take place in the spring of next year. Don't rely on a bit of beauty and dare to wade into the muddy waters of the harem. Without cunning or family connections, no flower stays red for a hundred days—a lowly palace maid wouldn't even know how she died.
The Imperial countenance is to be feared.
Xiansi, too, was silent for a long while.
"I would never presume. That is why I wish to put up my hair and vow never to marry—resolved to be a servant for life."
Wang Fulu's tone turned slightly bitter: "Fine. As long as you've thought it through, we brothers and sisters will hold a little ceremony for you when the time comes, and bring Jinshu to witness it. But I advise you—don't rush into this."
For one thing, it would leave her time to regret. For another, most palace maids took eunuchs as their companions to find a lifelong support. The feelings her godfather Liu Lun held for her—surely she knew it in her heart.
Though the name of such a pairing sounded unpleasant, the benefits gained were very real. Otherwise, so many palace maids would not be willing to sacrifice themselves to pair with eunuchs.
Even setting herself aside, thinking a step deeper—if His Majesty took an interest in her, rashly choosing to take that vow would amount to gross disrespect, inviting disaster for nothing.
Moreover, judging by all the favors His Majesty had shown her before, it was quite possible he did have such intentions. Perhaps she really could climb up the branch and become a phoenix.
Xiansi suddenly recalled that night—the cold touch of His Majesty's fingers as he lifted her chin.
It was not that she disliked it; rather, she dared not face it, dared not hope, fearing it would all come to nothing—ending with her lowly self guilty of delusions far above her station.
By comparison, she would rather remain His Majesty's shadow, spending her whole life as a servant inside a safe shell.
"Mm, I know. We're only talking about it for now."
Wang Fulu left her with a parting remark: "If Godfather finds out, he certainly won't agree."
To throw away her whole life so carelessly like that.
Xiansi did not argue back for the moment, wavering.
Servants were never masters of their own fate; in many things they simply drifted with the current. It was too early to speak of all this. Wherever fate carried her, there she would stay.