Chapter 37

“If anyone truly wishes to profit from this farce, it can only be me.”

Logic prompted Rong Tang to inquire further about this statement from Su Huaijing.

This is a battle fuelled by conspiracy among the imperial heirs. Whether they are killed or suffer injury, whether a skyscraper is erected or a centuries-old tree is infested with insects, all outcomes are confined to the involvement of these three princes in this scheme.

From Rong Tang’s perspective, none of them are related to Su Huaijing.

He ought to ask.

But it is early summer, the sun is shining brightly, and the peacock in the zoo is spreading its tail. The dark green tail feathers are beautiful and stunning. Along with the languid and melodious voice, there’s a very warm embrace before him. At one point, Rong Tang was so absorbed that he nearly forgot to breathe, let alone inquire of Su Huaijing whether there was—deliberately or inadvertently—a subtle loophole in his previous statement.

Once they separated from the embrace, Rong Tang snapped back to reality. Whether it was the glare of the light or the vibrant display of the peacock’s tail, his eyes blinked lightly and finally asked, “What did you tell Ke Hongxue?”

Su Huaijing was startled for a moment, exposing a hint of astonishment. It seemed that, in his imagination, this shouldn’t be the first question that Rong Tang would ask.

Su Huaijing glanced down and fixed his gaze on Rong Tang for an instant. A faint smile played on his lips, exuding a hint of flirtation mixed with a touch of indulgence and pride. In essence, it was quite charming: “That’s another secret. If Tangtang wants to know…… kiss me once?”

Rong Tang turned around and left.

Su Huaijing smiled and chased after him: “Fine, fine, fine, I won’t tease you anymore; I’ll tell you.”

Rong Tang angled his head and looked doubtfully at him, not quite believing it.

Su Huaijing’s eyes curved: “When did I deceive Tangtang? I’ll tell you.”

–

Song Garden started with the late emperor and has passed through four owners.

The late emperor, the third son of the late emperor, Emperor Renshou and Sheng Chengxing.

Ever since he entered the Imperial Academy at a young age, the late emperor’s third son had been known to his lecturers and fellow study companions for his intelligence and cleverness.

He excelled in matters of love and artistry, adept at composing poetry and painting, and skilled in both revelry and insect fighting. Given ample time to learn, he could even master architectural design and stand out as the foremost in the world.

He was so terribly smart that some officials once privately said that if someone wanted to appoint a worthy person to the throne, the Third Prince would be an excellent candidate.

When the Third Highness heard this, he would smile and wave his fan, don a luxurious and exquisite Confucian jacket, lean on the railing of Fengyue House, listen to the little ditties in the building, watch the river lights outside, and fiddle with a wine glass that looked like porcelain. His voice was scattered but clearly audible: “In terms of age, I lose to my da ge; in terms of wisdom and virtue, I’m not one to hold back; in terms of my feelings towards the world… Sheng San has no aspirations. In this life, I would only like to be a wealthy and idle man, taking my caged birds strolling around and fighting insects. I truly cannot afford to bear the wealth and lives of tens of millions of people in the world. I’ve probably practiced asceticism for several lifetimes in exchange for the overwhelming wealth and honour of this life. What else is there to be unsatisfied about? My lords, please don’t say this again in the future. This lowly scholar gets scared hearing it.”

After speaking, Third Highness raised his head and gulped down the wine in the glass. He laughed uninhibitedly, his peach blossom eyes filled with an exquisite, translucent brilliance.

He was the smartest person in the world, and he was also the most inappropriate and the most law-abiding person in the imperial family.

The late emperor gave him Song Garden, and he was able to spend three years personally creating an utopia with flowers, summer lotuses, autumn fruits, winter snow, and thousands of birds, insects, and beasts.

The current Song Garden in the hands of Sheng Chengxing is beautiful beyond words, but it was during the years when it belonged to His Highness the Third Prince that it was indeed known far and wide.

The temporary imperial dwelling has become a heavenly palace. Not only is it a place for the descendants of the Yu capital nobles to gather and feast, but also a place for ordinary people to be carefree and amuse themselves.

Every year around the Lantern Festival, Song Garden will be open to outsiders. No matter if you are a high-ranking official or facing the loess*, as long as you are willing to come, you can find a corner in Song Garden to sip wine, eat meat, bask beneath the stars and sun, and even lie on a couch in a side room, sleep on the high bed with soft pillows, and dream of wealth and power.

(*TN: yellow sandy soil typical of north China.)

A companion informed him to be wary of pilfering by the commoners. His Highness’s fox-like eyes squinted as he smiled: “If what they take away from here can solve their immediate needs, what’s the harm in lending it to them?”

The companion said, “But why would the commoners return them? Then how can they borrow them?”

Third Highness is wrapped in a large cloak. He looks down at the melting spring snow in the garden and laughs lazily: “Your view of the human heart is too narrow-minded.”

No one can say whether anything was lost in Song Garden in those years, but it has been the venue for holding the Lantern Festival year after year. There’s yet to be any mention of anyone being sent to the local authorities for causing trouble there.

The villagers around the outskirts of the capital know that there is a magnificent and extraordinary estate here. They also know that the owner of this estate would invite opera troupes to perform every spring festival and would entertain them with free fine wine and meat. For them, these are probably the happiest days of the year. There is an immortal master living on this estate.

Song Garden is beautiful, prosperous and at the height of popularity. It brings much more value than being a temporary imperial dwelling.

Once the war ended, Emperor Renshou ascended the throne. Seeing this temporary imperial dwelling that had been solely designed and managed by his nephew, he felt that there would never be a more elegant and provincial estate in the world.

So Song Garden became a temporary imperial palace again, with high painted doors and erected courtyard walls. Instead of the traditional Lantern Festival theatre, the annual celebration now saw more concubines and maids residing in the secluded courtyards, bedecked in jewels and finery.

On the Lantern Festival during the second year of Qingzheng, the guards of Song Garden were relieving themselves at night when they discovered that someone had hung a string of bacon on the wall of the courtyard, with a small basket of large, beautiful frozen pears piled underneath, emitting an alluring aroma in the cold night.

……

As the years passed, Emperor Renshou seemed to realise that no matter how exquisite and luxurious Song Garden was, it was mostly due to the meticulous care of the Third Prince. After the Third Prince was beheaded by him, he’d occasionally lived in the garden three or five times before losing interest again.

By a lucky coincidence, when Sheng Chengxing reached the age of leaving the palace, Emperor Renshou directly gave the garden to him without a second thought.

Perhaps his third son may be as smart as his eldest brother’s third son. If he can surpass him by a little, he will make everyone in the world look at him with increased respect. Emperor Renshou had harboured such shallow expectations.

That’s how this flower-picking festival came about.

……

Rong Tang listened to Su Huaijing talking about these things casually as if he were telling a story, and for a moment he didn’t know what expression to give.

He wanted to comfort him, but Su Huaijing was smiling again, always gentle and warm, as if the person in the story had absolutely nothing to do with him, let alone his blood relatives.

But Rong Tang clearly noticed that when he talked about the words spoken by His Highness the Third Highness, his tone was slightly lighter. When he spoke about the string of bacon that had appeared outside Song Garden for no reason, there was a vague smile in the corner of his eyes.

He had the best xiong zhang in the world.

But Rong Tang couldn’t say these words to him.

All he could do was take the initiative to hold Su Huaijing’s left hand and allow him to lead the way through the garden, their path seemingly meandering without a clear destination.

For a brief moment, Rong Tang wanted to ask him: “Do you want me to see the garden your gege built by himself?”

If it were so, it is a really, really beautiful garden.

From the perspective of a contemporary person thousands of years later, it is also jaw-droppingly magnificent.

Your xiong zhang has made you proud enough of him that you flaunt him to everyone.

But he didn’t say anything; he just remained silently by Su Huaijing’s side and strolled around Song Garden with him.

After passing countless plots with flowers and herbs in bloom, and passing several banquet halls filled with cheers and cries of laughter, the atmosphere fell quiet once the hubbub of voices passed by.

Su Huaijing brought him to a courtyard.

The door is dilapidated, and there are few signs of human habitation. The flowers and plants in the corner of the courtyard are a jumbled mess, and the branches of the pear tree are wildly overgrown.

The colour of the stage has long since faded from its former bright red over the years, leaving only a faintly visible shade.

When Rong Tang caught sight of the courtyard, his eyes suddenly darkened, and he had a presumption in his heart.

Su Huaijing asked him, “Does Tangtang know who used to live in this courtyard?”

Rong Tang pursed his lips and said nothing.

Su Huaijing said to himself, “Concubine Shu, the one who was thrown into the cold palace in the second year of Qingzheng.”

He chuckled softly: “Concubine Shu possessed an exuberant character, was virtuous, and had many good qualities…… Our Fifth Prince should have had a most enviable family background.”

Concubine Shu was the foreign singer Emperor Renshou had brought back from his pleasure boat in Jiangnan.

She gave birth to a prince who was declared by a sorcerer to be a hindrance to the emperor’s star. Yet she received all the emperor’s favour, from being brought from her secluded residence to the imperial palace and even being titled as a noble concubine. Anyone who saw it would praise her for her cleverness and good nature.

In a sense, this is actually one of the “cheats” given to Sheng Chengli by the author.

Emperor Renshou has many concubines, both men and women, and especially beauties with gorgeous appearances.

Concubine Shu bore him offspring and possessed a distinct exotic charm, boldness, and warmth, providing him with a very pleasant memory of his youth.

In the end, even when she passed, Concubine Shu had died in her prime age of thirty, exactly when flowers bloomed most beautifully. All that remained for the world to remember was her captivating gaze.

In the past two lifetimes, once Sheng Chengli exited the cold palace, he became Emperor Renshou’s most favourite prince for a time. No one can say that it was not due to the contribution of the one who died young.

Rong Tang knows that this is the former residence of Concubine Shu. This stage had been specially constructed at the behest of Emperor Renshou to enjoy Concubine Shu’s dancing.

He turned around and eyed the path through the courtyard gate, which he’d walked in from.

Noticing his movements, Su Huaijing smiled softly and said, “It seems that Tangtang has guessed it?”

Follow the pebble path forward, pass a courtyard, turn a corner, and walk a hundred steps. Lanxin Building is conspicuously there, where herbs grow all over.

It is also the place that everyone knows—where Yuerong went to before her death.

Rong Tang’s expression turned slightly cold, and he asked in a deep voice, “Does this matter have anything to do with the empress?”

Su Huaijing smiled, unable to conceal the admiration in his eyes, and directly revealed it. He raised his hand to tidy Rong Tang’s hair, which had become a little messed up along the way. He said warmly, “In the second year of Qingzheng, two major incidents occurred in Dayu’s imperial harem.”

“The first one happened in the fourth month. The Emperor’s eldest son fell critically ill. For three days, everyone at the imperial physician’s courtyard worked day and night to diagnose and treat him. However, the Emperor’s eldest son’s illness had turned so serious that he eventually died. Secondly, in the ninth month of that year, Concubine Shu became pregnant. It was supposed to be a matter of celebration for the whole palace, but for some reason, His Majesty was so furious that he banished the pregnant Concubine Shu to the cold palace, causing her to miscarry. In the twelfth month of the same year, Concubine Shu died in the cold palace.”

Su Huaijing’s voice was very soft, and he spoke about palace secrets that should not have been disclosed.

“According to an elder in the palace, a few months before the Emperor’s eldest son became ill, he received an incense prescription from the physician’s courtyard. They said that if he was exposed to it every day, it would be beneficial to his illness. But in the first two months, not only was the frail eldest son of the Emperor in much better spirits, he was even able to mount a horse, ride, and shoot, for which His Majesty and the Empress were extremely happy.”

“But in the third month, the eldest son’s illness relapsed with great force. In just three days, the frail prince died.”

The corners of Su Huaijing lips rose; he leaned close to Rong Tang’s ear and whispered, “Concubine Shu was pregnant. In order to demonstrate favour and honour, His Majesty intended to grant her the privilege of the pepper chamber*. But what a coincidence! The palace servant in charge of incense discovered a packet of perfume while cleaning the rooms. Tangtang, can you guess what the smell was?”

(*TN: usually the private apartments of the empress, where the pepper-mud mixture painted on the walls preserves warmth and provides a pleasant aroma.)

Rong Tang said nothing; his hands and feet were a little chilly.

Su Huaijing still smiled, looking very innocent. “What should I do, Tangtang? Someone thinks he is smart and puts on an act in front of me, but I can’t stand it and want to expose him.”

“Tangtang won’t blame me, right?”