Today was the Empress Dowager’s sixtieth birthday. The Emperor delivered a few customary ceremonial remarks, and the chief eunuch brought out the list of gifts, preparing to read it aloud. But the Empress Dowager waved her hand to stop him.
“That will do. It’s rare to have so many gathered together for a birthday—let’s not waste time on these tedious formalities.”
The eunuch hesitated and glanced at the Emperor Xuande. Seeing him nod, he had the list withdrawn.
The Emperor raised his cup first to congratulate the Empress Dowager, and all the officials followed suit, standing to toast her longevity. After this, the banquet formally began, and the atmosphere relaxed.
“Your mother was unfortunate and did not live to see you grow up,” the Empress Dowager said, holding Xia Xiuyan’s hand, her voice trembling as she wiped away tears. “Now that you have returned safely, I can finally give her an answer.”
Everyone hurried to comfort her. Xia Xiuyan smiled faintly. “If my mother knew that on such a joyous day I made Grandmother cry, she would surely scold me.”
The Empress Dowager laughed through her tears. “That’s true. I still have to see you marry and establish yourself, on your mother’s behalf.” Turning to the Emperor, she added, “Yan’er has been delayed by years of war and is no longer young. As his uncle, you must take his marriage to heart.”
The Emperor smiled helplessly. “Rest assured, Mother, I have it in mind.”
“You’re always busy. You may agree today and forget tomorrow,” she chided, then tightened her grip on Xia Xiuyan’s hand. “No—I will personally arrange a good match for him.”
The Left Chancellor, Wu Guangda, laughed. “Your Majesty need not worry. If one could marry the Marquis of Dingbei, every noble lady in the capital would eagerly compete for the chance.”
This pleased the Empress Dowager greatly, and the surrounding officials laughed in agreement. Xia Xiuyan lowered his gaze with a faint smile, allowing himself to be teased without protest. For a moment, ruler and ministers appeared in perfect harmony—a picture of prosperity.
Seated among the guests, Zhou Xianyi looked on with a trace of admiration. “We’re about the same age, yet Xia Shizi has surpassed most of the imperial clan.”
Qiu Xinran replied calmly, “You can listen to the Left Chancellor’s words, but don’t take them too seriously. If you asked him to truly marry his daughter to the Marquis, do you think he’d agree?”
Before Zhou Xianyi could ask more, a cold snort sounded beside them.
They turned to see a dark-skinned military officer, sharp-eyed and imposing. He glanced sideways at them, displeased. “The Marquis of Dingbei has distinguished military merit, noble birth, and exceptional looks. How is he not superior to those making sour remarks here?”
Zhou Xianyi looked embarrassed, but Qiu Xinran remained composed. “Sir, you misunderstand. I wasn’t saying the Marquis is inferior in any way.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“The Marquis has only returned to the capital temporarily. If a noble lady were to marry him, she would likely have to leave the capital with him. Many families would hesitate to send their daughters so far away.”
Her tone was calm and respectful. The officer’s expression softened slightly, though he still scoffed. “Even so, families that can’t endure hardship wouldn’t be worthy of our lord anyway.”
Zhou Xianyi looked puzzled. “How do you know he won’t stay in the capital long?”
Qiu Xinran paused, then avoided the question, instead asking, “You said ‘our lord’ just now?”
The officer flushed slightly at revealing himself but answered straightforwardly, “I am He Zhong, deputy general under the Marquis of Dingbei. I accompanied him to offer birthday congratulations.”
At this, Qiu Xinran stiffened inwardly, silently regretting speaking too much, and turned away to avoid further conversation. Zhou Xianyi, however, brightened immediately.
“Commander He! I’ve long heard of your name. A pleasure to meet you—I’m Zhou Xianyi.”
He Zhong was momentarily taken aback, then returned the greeting with a fist salute. “You’re too kind, Lord Zhou.”
Zhou Xianyi wasn’t merely being polite—he had closely followed Xia Xiuyan’s campaigns over the years and knew the battles of the Changwu Army well. After a few exchanges, the two quickly warmed to each other, as if they had met too late, eager to drink and talk through the night.
Qiu Xinran silently pressed her forehead.
Then He Zhong hesitated before speaking. “Brother Zhou, to be honest, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
Zhou Xianyi, slightly flushed from drink, replied readily, “Speak freely!”
“I’ve often heard that when our lord came to the frontier despite his illness, it was because His Majesty listened to a deceitful Daoist…”
A sense of foreboding rose in Qiu Xinran’s heart.
Sure enough, He Zhong continued angrily, “I came to the capital this time hoping to find that charlatan. If he’s still here, I’ll make sure to deal with him properly!”
Zhou Xianyi’s gaze darted awkwardly. “Ahem… I heard that Daoist left the capital long ago. I’m not sure what became of him.”
He Zhong sighed in disappointment. “I see. I’ll look into it further when I have the chance.”
Zhou Xianyi glanced awkwardly at Qiu Xinran, who calmly lifted her cup and took a sip as though unaffected. He quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.
…
Halfway through the banquet, Qiu Xinran excused herself and left her seat. Zhou Xianyi didn’t dare question her and let her go.
The imperial garden was vast, but she knew it well. Walking aimlessly among its paths, she planned to return only when the banquet was nearly over. Without realizing it, she reached a lakeside—and noticed someone already standing there.
Hearing her footsteps, the person turned.
Qiu Xinran paused, then quickly bowed. “Teacher.”
It was Bai Jingming, Director of the Bureau of Astronomy. Though over forty, he appeared no older than thirty, refined and scholarly. He had once taught her during her years in the capital.
“When did you come down from the mountains?” he asked.
“Not long ago. I’ve just settled in Chang’an. I meant to visit you in a few days.”
“What brought you down this time?”
She hesitated slightly. “My master said I’ve learned all she can teach me.”
He nodded. “Seven years ago, she wrote to me saying you were her most talented disciple.”
Qiu Xinran said nothing. She had heard this many times and did not pretend modesty.
“What are your plans now?” he asked.
She hesitated. “I don’t know yet.”
“You may return to the Bureau if you wish.”
After a moment’s thought, she answered honestly, “In observing the stars, I am not as skilled as Yuan Zhou.”
Yuan Zhou was Bai Jingming’s direct disciple. Hearing her refusal, he showed no displeasure.
“Seven years ago, you said you didn’t know why you studied divination. Do you know now?”
She paused. “Ten years ago, I found half the answer in Yongming Palace. Perhaps I will find the other half among the common people.”
“And if you never do?”
“My master said not everyone attains enlightenment. If I never find it, then that is my path.”
Bai Jingming smiled. “While I’ve struggled in the mortal world, your cultivation in the mountains has surpassed mine.”
“There is Dao in the mountains, and Dao in the mortal world as well,” she replied with a faint smile.
After talking a while longer, Bai Jingming suddenly said before leaving, “The Marquis of Dingbei is here today. Have you seen him?”
Her smile stiffened slightly. “I haven’t had the chance.”
He paused. “What happened back then…” He shook his head. “Never mind. If you don’t run into him, there’s no need to seek him out.”
She laughed softly. “As you say, Teacher.”
…
After he left, the vast garden fell quiet again.
Qiu Xinran stood by the lake, watching the moonlight ripple across the water. The faint chirping of insects only deepened the stillness, as though she were alone in the entire world.
After a moment, she sighed. “The spring chill lingers. How long do you plan to stay hidden, sir?”
Silence.
She turned as if speaking to empty air. “If that’s the case, I won’t disturb your leisure any longer.”
Just as she was about to leave, movement finally stirred. From behind a nearby rock formation, someone stepped out.
She remained where she was, curious. But when the figure came into the light, she froze.
The Marquis of Dingbei stood before her, dressed in pale robes, tall and elegant, his features striking. Perhaps from the wine, the corners of his eyes were faintly flushed, as though brushed by spring water.
He walked slowly toward her, raising an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Qiu Sicheng,” he said softly, “it’s been a long time.”