Feng Zhi Wei forced a smile and said, “I am dull-witted and not good at acting. What a shame, what a shame.”
Ning Yi glanced at her, but didn’t argue. He released her fist, but pulled her to him and said, “Lie down for a while…There is something I want to see with you.”
Feng Zhi Wei tilted her head back and let out a soft “Ah”. Only now did she realize that the magnificently gilded “Nine dragons playing with a pearl” design ceiling she had seen earlier had changed. The enormous “pearl” at its center, nearly ten feet across, had turned transparent. Through this pearl, one could see the roof of the great hall above. A vast transparent dome had somehow appeared, slowly emerging, and seemingly rotating.
Moonlight and starlight were caught by the turning wheel and filtered down through the double-layered crystal domes. Suddenly, what were previously unremarkable walls of the underground palace burst into countless fragments of light. Looking closely, she discovered that the walls were inlaid with innumerable gemstones of matching hues, interwining and reflecting the light of the sky. At once, the entire hall shimmered with the glitter of stars and moonlight. The interwoven light of brilliance darted and flowed through the air. Just standing there made one feel as if one had stepped into a celestial palace.
The scene was dazzling and breathtaking. Even Feng Zhi Wei, who was long accustomed to the beauties of kingdoms and landscapes, was stunned into silence for a moment. Almost entranced, she raised her face to carefully observe the dreamlike illusion woven by the crossing beams of light, tracing their paths through the shifting fireworks of color. It was so dazzling that she even forgot to voice her amazement.
With his arms around her, Ning Yi smiled, not looking at the fantastical and wonderful scene before them, but instead, he turned his head with a smile to watch the expression on Feng Zhi Wei’s face. Her usually perpetually calm and composed face finally showed a look one would find on an ordinary young woman: surprise, delight, and complete amazement. The many colored glow of stars, moonlight, and gemstones illuminated her delicate brows and eyes with breathtaking beauty, and her joy shone as bright as the illuminating lights themselves.
Yet, a faint look of tenderness and pity welled up in Ning Yi’s eyes.
After all these years since they had met, this was the first time he had truly seen such unguarded delight on her face.
It was not in vain that he had searched everywhere for master craftsmen and had personally journeyed north into the mountains to invite a recluse expert living in hiding. It was only after three months of working night and day that this mythical Hall of Stars and Moon was finally finished.
To win a joyful smile from her— what an impossible, difficult task it is. Even an empire overturned might not suffice in exchange.
The night was quiet, and the hour was late.
The grand hall, too, seemed endlessly deep. Though buried underground, it gathers the dazzling radiance of stars and moon within its walls. Colored light flowed on all sides like silk ribbons on all sides, as if waves were surging around it. In that sea of light, the two figures lay embracing, gazing upward at the wondrous sight. Each wore a soft smile in the moving silence, as if they were on the very clouds.
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After returning from Xiliang, Feng Zhi Wei resumed her post as Minister of Rites, and for a time, life was quite peaceful. Rumors circulated through the court that Wei Zhi would probably not remain in the position of Minister of Rites for much longer— by convention, after serving as a minister, one would usually be assigned to govern a province before eventually returning to the capital and being allowed into the inner cabinet. Wei Zhi’s entire career as an official had been spent circling within the imperial capital and had not yet been sent to any other province. Everyone is waiting to see where she will be appointed to in the end.
Feng Zhi Wei herself did not care where she was sent. If she had a choice, she would rather go to the northern mountain region. The case of the bandit uprising there still held many unanswered questions, and she had heard that the surviving leader of the Hang clan had escaped and had gone into hiding deep in the mountain with his remaining men. If she encountered them, perhaps they could talk.
She had been back for several months and had been deliberately keeping herself busy. The imperial temple was close by, but aside from the obligatory visit on her first day back, she avoided it entirely afterward. The one time she had seen Shao Ning after her return had shocked her greatly. The girl was silent and desolate, stripped of the vibrant spirit she once possessed. Though there was still occasionally some eagerness and warmth when she looked at Feng Zhi Wei, she was often distracted, as if preoccupied with other thoughts. Feng Zhi Wei thought of Consort Qing. When she was sent as an envoy to Xiliang, Consort Qing had just become pregnant. What is going on with her now? Yet, there was no trace of Consort Qing around Shao Ning.
She also took the first chance she had to go see the two characters “Imperial Palace” that had once been carved into the green stone at the mouth of the well. The inscription had vanished, polished completely smooth as it was before, as though no one had ever carved words on it at all. She had no idea who erased it, or whether Ning Yi had ever seen it.
Another few months slipped away after another bout of pretend busy work, and early summer was approaching. Helian sent baskets of grapes from the grasslands, carefully wrapping each in mulberry-hemp paper, and delivered them to the capital by fast horse day and night. When the grapes arrived, astonishingly, their skins still carried a pale frosty sheen of moisture. As for the taste, the sweetness was enough to move one to tears. Whenever Feng Zhi Wei ate them, she would drift into a daze. In those moments, she would feel as if Master Gu and Zhi Xiao were beside her. Master Gu would peel grapes with leisurely elegance, stuffing them into Zhi Xiao’s mouth none too gently. Occasionally, he would give one to her as well. Zhi Xiao would be leaning against her father’s knee, but somehow, the sticky grape juice on her hand would end up all over Feng Zhi Wei’s robes… Only when the juice of the grape drips onto Feng Zhi Wei’s knee would she jerk awake from her illusion. Under the dim light of the room, staring at her own solitary shadow cast upon the wall, she would let out a soft sigh.
The more she thought, the more the loneliness gnawed at her bones until even the finest grapes lost their sweetness. She carefully wrapped the grapes back up, intending to send a portion to Xiliang, but Helian, attentive in unexpected ways, had already written to tell her that another portion had also been sent to Xiliang. So Feng Zhi Wei ended up ordering some small walnuts to be purchased and delivered. Though Xiliang had walnuts as well, she always felt that Young Master Gu’s favorite would surely still be the walnuts from the imperial capital.
Young Master Gu also wrote to her often. Very often, actually, but each letter was so miserly with ink and paper that it nearly made Feng Zhi Wei cry— a sheet no larger than a palm, containing barely enough words to count on ten fingers, each phrase compressed into the briefest possible words. For example, after receiving the walnuts, his latest reply was written as follows:
“Received, delicious, miss you.”
His letters essentially all ended with these same two words: “miss you.” The few words before them changed according to the contents of Feng Zhi Wei’s letters.
In spring, they were: “Peach blossoms bloom. Miss you.”
“Apricot blossoms bloom. Miss you.”
“Pear blossoms bloom. Miss you.”
And by summer, without needing to ask, she could already imagine what they would say:
“Lotus bloom. Miss you.”
“Lotus pod ripe. Miss you.” and so on…
At times, Feng Zhi Wei genuinely pitied the couriers responsible for carrying letters along the route between Xiliang and the imperial capital— to make the long trip on horseback, tired to death just to deliver those same few words.
Cataloging his letters was very easy for Feng Zhi Wei: Miss you No.1, Miss You No.2, Miss you No.3, and so on.
Before the grapes were finished, still chilling every day in the well water, Master Gu’s letters had already reached the high number of “Miss You No. 17”
Then she received another rather unusual gift.
The gift itself was nothing remarkable. It was once again, fruit. This time, a southern variety. But the person who sent it was rather unusual—-Prince Lu Zhiyan of Changning.
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