Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 62

When Princess Xuyang arrived, many in the room bowed in greeting.

The princess consort forced a smile. “If Her Highness wishes to learn, I would still be happy to teach you everything I know.”

“Thank you, Mother, but I have no such desire.”

“Naturally. Her Highness is too busy indulging in drunken revelries at the Crane Manor to spare time for an old woman’s culinary lessons.”

Xuyang’s expression darkened slightly, her gaze unconsciously flickering toward Yuan Zheng. His face remained impassive as he turned and dismissed the attendants from the room with practiced ease.

The three of them had always spoken freely in private, unaccustomed to having servants present. Yet the princess consort showed no intention of leaving them to their reunion, remaining seated with her niece Yan’er by her side.

Yuan Zheng couldn’t very well order his own mother out, so he simply met Xuyang’s eyes across the room and offered his usual easy smile. “You two arrived quite early. I thought I’d have to send formal invitations.”

Xuyang snorted, her eyes dropping disinterestedly to the table as she muttered, “With how delicious longevity noodles are, would you even have remembered to invite us?”

Juchen tugged at her hand and offered Yuan Zheng congratulations, presenting their gifts after the customary well wishes handing over Xuyang’s present along with her own.

The princess consort eyed the white jade longbow Xuyang had gifted with a sneer. “Such things can be bought anywhere.”

Xuyang countered with a light, mocking tone, “What your son usually gives me are equally commonplace items.”

Standing between them, Yuan Zheng could only laugh awkwardly and appease his mother. “Look how fine this bow is, Mother. I quite like it.”

The princess consort turned away coldly, ignoring them. After a hesitant pause, Juchen turned to Xuyang. “Yuan Zheng once wanted to give you a painting he made himself.”

Xuyang’s eyes froze. Yan’er asked timidly, “Cousin can paint?”

She had never imagined the martial-loving Yuan Zheng could wield a brush for delicate artwork.

“I learned a little from the princess dowager in the past,” Yuan Zheng admitted with an embarrassed cough, shooting Juchen a reproachful look. But Juchen kept her head down, meticulously straightening the ribbons on the gift box, avoiding his gaze entirely.

Xuyang couldn’t help asking, “If you wanted to give it, why didn’t you?”

A brief silence passed before a wry smile touched Yuan Zheng’s lips. “I feared my work wouldn’t compare. You’ve seen too many masterpieces.”

Xuyang’s protest died unspoken. But it had been so long since she’d last admired anyone else’s paintings.

The Prince of Yunnan’s illness had worsened recently, confining him to bedrest away from guests. With the evening banquet yet to begin, Xuyang seized the free moment to request visiting the ailing old prince.

Yuan Zheng blinked in surprise before bowing his thanks for the courtesy.

Her lips pressed together, Xuyang shot him a sidelong glance. At his puzzled look, she said coldly, “I heard your cousin kept vigil by the old prince’s sickbed with you daily after your return to Yunnan. Don’t forget to thank her too.”

After the feast, an opera stage was erected in the rear gardens of the Yuan residence.

Yuan Zheng held the opera program as usual, letting Xu Yang make the first selection. The princess consort glanced back and saw him sitting in the rear with Xu Yang and Juchen, chatting and laughing in perfect harmony. She beckoned Yan’er over and then sent someone to summon Yuan Zheng.

Yan’er knelt by the princess consort’s side. Yuan Zheng, tall and poised, stood nearby as the opera stage buzzed with noise. The princess consort gestured for him to lean in to hear her speak, forcing him to lower his head.

His gaze inadvertently met Yan’er’s beside the princess consort’s knee.

Faced with that handsome countenance, Yan’er’s delicate face flushed crimson in an instant.

The princess consort then instructed her to rise. Having knelt for so long, Yan’er’s legs had gone weak, and she nearly stumbled as she stood. Yuan Zheng instinctively leaned back to avoid physical contact, but the princess consort immediately seized his arm and guided Yan’er to steady herself against his hand.

When Yuan Zheng turned his attention back to the rear, intending to ask if they had chosen an opera to watch, Xu Yang had already left with Juchen.

“Shall we go to Crane Manor?” Xu Yang asked nonchalantly as they stepped out of the Yuan residence.

Juchen didn’t dare. If the Prince of Pengshan caught her again, the faint affection she had painstakingly drawn from him would vanish like smoke.

“I’ve raised someone for you, yet you never visit. How heartless of a patron.”

No matter how deep her feelings ran, the one she truly desired wasn’t even in the capital.

Juchen could only force a dry laugh. The two parted ways at the entrance of Crane Manor. Halfway down the road, Juchen noticed Xu Yang’s cloak had been left on the seat. The night was growing colder, and fearing Xu Yang might catch a chill on her return, Juchen turned back.

Entering Crane Manor, Juchen wove through the flickering lantern lights to the rear garden, where she spotted Xu Yang standing by the lake, lost in thought as she gazed at the shimmering water. Lin Zongbai approached from the side. Xu Yang lowered her eyes, then suddenly rushed forward and embraced him, sobbing quietly against his chest.

Juchen’s eyes widened. She froze, staring blankly at Xu Yang’s sorrowful expression, a bitter ache welling up inside her. Clutching the cloak in her hands, she turned and left without disturbing them.

Lin Zongbai had brought Xu Yang an outer robe but hesitated to drape it over her directly. “The spring night still carries a chill,” he said. “Your Highness, as a person of noble stature, must take care of your health.”

“Are you worried about me, Senior Brother?”

“Well, mostly, if you fall ill under my roof, I fear someone might come knocking to settle the score and shut my doors for good.”

Xu Yang snorted in amusement, playfully scoffing at him before obediently putting on the robe. When she looked up again, her gaze lingered on the damp patch on his chest where her tears had soaked his clothes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

She didn’t know why, but the moment she saw him, she felt she could finally show her vulnerability, even though this sorrow wasn’t his doing.

Lin Zongbai was silent for a moment before chuckling hoarsely. “It does ruin the clothes, but what can I do? After all these years of you calling me ‘brother’.”

Being your brother is already more than enough.

—

That night, Juchen leaned against her pillow, lost in thought for a long while, unable to grasp what exactly was on her mind. With a deep sigh, she rose, extinguished the candle, and surrendered to the endless night.

Lying on the bed, Juchen closed her eyes. Half asleep, she drifted into a dream.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself standing at the gates of Orchid Garden.

After Juchen was promoted to the fourth rank position of Hanlin scholar, she moved out of the Li residence and established her own household. The Orchid Garden was later bestowed upon her by the empress as her official residence.

On this day, though the sky had cleared, the air was still laced with a biting cold wind.

A carriage slowly entered the city through the Kaiyang Gate in the east, passed Yonghe Street, and arrived at the entrance of Orchid Garden. The carriage curtain lifted, revealing a strikingly beautiful woman who appeared no older than sixteen. Her eyes swept forward, her brows slightly furrowed as she gracefully stepped down.

At this time, Juchen was already thirty-two, yet her beauty had not faded in the slightest. Her delicate fingers clutched the edge of a fox fur cloak as the cold wind swept past, accompanied by a few muffled coughs. Her frail, willow like figure evoked pity in all who saw her.

The carriage stopped before Orchid Garden, where Ming Luan was already waiting at the foot of the steps, carefully assisting Juchen as she alighted.

With Juchen’s rise in status, Ming Luan’s position had also soared. She had left the Li residence alongside her, transforming from a personal maid into the head stewardess of the household, commanding a full courtyard of maids and servants at her disposal.

Ming Luan beamed as she recounted the delicacies prepared for lunch while guiding Juchen inside. But as soon as she turned away, her smile faded.

Frowning, she pulled the maid who had accompanied them aside and whispered, “Did you see the person?”

The maid lowered her gaze and shook her head dejectedly.

Juchen had been attending court duties despite her illness for many days until, one morning after court adjourned, she collapsed before Prince Pengshan.

Song Mi reported the incident to the empress, who issued an oral decree ordering Juchen to return home and rest. After regaining consciousness, Juchen, seizing this rare opportunity despite her weakened state, ventured out solely to visit someone.

“All these years, whenever the young lady visited the Grand Princess’s residence, she was always turned away,” Ming Luan sighed, stealing a glance in Juchen’s direction.

To see the closest of friends become strangers who wouldn’t lament such a sorrowful sight?

At the dining table, Ming Luan inadvertently brought it up again. Juchen’s expression darkened, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “It’s only natural she doesn’t want to see me. I failed her.”

Back then, the empress and the elder brother of Grand Princess Xuyang the former emperor had their mother-son relationship strained by the interference of the Feng family.

Though the throne bore the surname Song, Xuyang keenly sensed that her mother’s power was unfathomable. The emperor’s deposition was imminent.

Xuyang, protective of her brother, pleaded in vain and ultimately resorted to a palace coup, attempting to purge the court of corrupt officials and execute the empress dowager. But the Feng family outmaneuvered her. Not only did the coup fail, but she was also branded a traitor and imprisoned in the Dali Temple dungeon.

Everything had happened too suddenly, sending shockwaves through the court.

The Censorate submitted memorials denouncing Grand Princess Xuyang for her treasonous defiance of imperial and familial ethics, unfit as a noble exemplar. To serve as a warning, she was to be severely punished.

Overnight, the princess’s entire household, including her consort Yuan Zheng, was imprisoned.

At the same time, the Turks suddenly invaded, and urgent reports from the border pleaded for reinforcements.

Yuan Zheng, sitting in his cell, learned that this battle required an elite force to lure the enemy deep. He begged a jailer to deliver a message to Li Zhangji of the Phoenix Pavilion. Juchen hurried to see him, but Yuan Zheng implored her to petition the empress dowager on his behalf to allow him to lead the decoy force and atone for his crimes through meritorious service.

Juchen refused outright. When persuasion failed, Yuan Zheng resorted to threats: “A-Chen, I must save Xuyang!”

“I’m trying to find a way just wait! I will find a way to save you both!”

“There’s no other way! The crime of rebellion is unforgivable. That night when the Imperial Guards stormed the central palace with drawn blades, it was indeed Xuyang who led them. The Feng clan has irrefutable evidence in their hands they’ll surely seize this chance to control Xuyang’s life and use it to pressure Her Majesty the Empress Dowager. The Empress Dowager cares deeply for the realm and would never allow the Fengs to poison our Great Liang. I fear she might sacrifice Xuyang.”

Juchen interrupted, “No, Her Majesty wouldn’t! She’s always doted on Ranran the most.”

“She cares for Xuyang, but her favorite child was never Xuyang.” Yuan Zheng hesitated, then sighed deeply, gripping the prison bars tightly. “A-Chen, Ranran is pregnant.”

Juchen’s breath caught.

Yuan Zheng fixed Juchen with an intense gaze. “She carries my child. As both her husband and the father, I can’t let her endure these dark days in the prison of the Court of Judicial Review!”

After a sleepless night, at dawn the next day, Juchen knelt outside the Palace of Longevity and Health, submitting Yuan Zheng’s petition to lead the troops into battle.

That battle brought Great Liang a decisive victory, but Consort Yuan Zheng fell into an ambush by the enemy leader while luring them in, perishing in a foreign land.

With Yuan Zheng’s posthumous merit recognized, the Empress Dowager, to appease the Yunnan royal family and preserve the Yuan bloodline, released the heavily pregnant Princess Xuyang from the dungeon. Upon hearing the tragic news, Xuyang fell gravely ill and tearfully accused Juchen of knowingly sending Yuan Zheng to his death despite the battle’s dangers.

Their relationship shattered. From then on, Princess Xuyang moved to the outskirts of the capital, guarding her consort’s grave alone, refusing to see anyone.

Mingluan wiped away indignant tears. “But how can this all be blamed on you, miss?”

In such dire circumstances, for a minor official like Juchen to try saving even one was already her utmost effort.

“The princess doesn’t hate you she hates herself.”

Juchen’s expression darkened. After a long silence, she set down her chopsticks, went to the storeroom, and retrieved another batch of imperial delicacies and tonics, asking Mingluan to send them to the princess’s residence.

Hearing that Xuyang’s health had been poor lately though she refused to see Juchen or accept her gifts Juchen continued sending her every precious item she received, as always.

Mingluan opened her mouth to speak, but Juchen turned away, her retreating back signaling the end of the conversation. Silently, Mingluan gathered the gifts and left. Juchen returned to her bedroom, sitting by the bed in deep thought before retrieving a sandalwood box from beneath her pillow.

Inside lay a shattered violet jade bracelet, carefully wrapped in silk within the box.

Juchen traced the broken bracelet with her fingers, her expression unreadable, then tucked it into her robes and went to the study.

She had long intended to organize the books that had accumulated over the years. Seizing this rare free moment, she stood before the shelves, rearranging the layers of rare volumes when her gaze fell upon a long forgotten scroll.

After a pause, she pulled it out and slowly unrolled it on the desk.

In the twentieth year of Jiahe, during the last harmonious Mid Autumn Festival between the Empress Dowager and the current emperor, the palace hosted a grand banquet, inviting hundreds of officials to admire the moon.

Amid the clinking of cups, many remarkable figures gathered. On a whim, the Empress Dowager ordered Lin Zongbai and the court painters to capture this magnificent scene, creating the “Portrait of Jiahe Officials.”

Later, when relations between the Empress Dowager and the emperor ruptured, they quarreled violently in the palace. In her fury, the Empress Dowager personally tore this yet unveiled portrait of the officials to pieces.

Juchen felt reluctant to part with it. Hidden behind a curtain where she couldn’t be seen, she quietly gathered the torn fragments and pieced them back together.

Yet, some pieces were still missing in the end, including the portraits of Xuyang and Yuan Zheng, which were never found.

Many classmates depicted on this official portrait were once vibrant and full of youthful vigor, but now most had scattered and drifted apart, leaving only a handful behind.

Those scenes of laughter and banter had ultimately become beautiful memories of a past that could never be reclaimed.

Juchen’s warm yet cool palm glided over the paper, tracing one image after another, her eyes brimming with nostalgia. Finally, her fingers paused, and her gaze settled on the empty gaps around her.

Aside from the missing figures of Xuyang, Yuan Zheng, and Lin Zongbai, there was actually one very important person absent from this portrait.

Lost in thought, Juchen barely noticed the darkening sky outside until a sudden, thunderous boom erupted, and a fiery blossom burst across the heavens.

Tonight marked the final day of the Lantern Festival, and outside, the night bloomed with dazzling fireworks, each flame seizing its last chance to blaze unrestrained.

Juchen had long outgrown the age of reveling in such spectacles. Mingluan had ensured she finished her dinner and taken a bitter medicinal tonic, expecting her to retire early for once. Yet, unexpectedly, Juchen felt a sudden urge to step outside and watch the fireworks.

Unable to dissuade her, Mingluan bundled her in a thick fur cloak and dispatched four attendants and two maids to accompany her.

As Juchen walked the streets, she tightened the fox fur cloak around her, her gaze drifting toward the colorful lanterns adorning the taverns and entertainment houses.

During the Tianxi era, when Juchen still resided in the princess’s manor, the capital’s curfew was strictly enforced, with only the three nights around the Lantern Festival permitting free movement after dark.

Her first nighttime excursion through the capital with Xuyang and Yuan Zheng had been during this very festival.

Now, the capital was even more prosperous, its lantern displays especially magnificent. Since the start of the year, countless lantern exhibitions had lined the streets outside the Vermilion Bird Gate, their golden and jade hues intertwining like twin dragons in flight a breathtaking sight that surpassed even the grandeur of years past.

Juchen stared at this resplendent scene, yet her heart no longer raced with the excitement of youth.

Suddenly turning, she realized the two familiar figures who once laughed and chatted behind her were no longer there.

Lowering her eyes, her expression grew shadowed and unreadable until hurried footsteps approached from behind.

Mingluan rushed up to her, her eyes brimming with tears. “My lady, word has just come from the palace. Princess Xuyang has passed away.”