Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 2

A crimson firelight. Her body felt as if it were being scorched by fierce flames, a scalding pain spreading through her, causing her to curl up instinctively in a futile attempt to escape. A moment later, the burning sensation vanished. After a dizzying spin, the world was filled with scarlet bl00d. Even her throat was thick with the viscous taste of it. The stench of bl00d rushed to her head, and her stomach churned, making her want to vomit.

“Seventh Lady, Seventh Lady, wake up.” Someone was calling softly by her ear.

Puyang’s brows furrowed. She heard someone calling her and tried to use the sound to escape her perilous predicament, but her eyes felt as if they were glued shut and refused to open. A moment later, someone pushed her gently. With that push, she finally startled awake. She struggled to open her eyes, and a blinding light shot into them. Her vision filled with brilliant spring sunshine.

Wildflowers bloomed on the trees while orioles and swallows flew about in a lively dance—a scene of thriving, vigorous life, completely different from the bloody darkness of her dream.

Puyang stared blankly. Seeing this, the palace attendants dared not disturb her, waiting on her carefully. Puyang remained dazed for a long while before confirming that she was still alive and well. She let out a breath, still shaken with lingering fear, and asked, “What time is it?”

“Seventh Lady is awake. It is almost the Hour of the Snake. Seventh Lady, you should hurry and freshen up. It is time to leave the palace.”

Puyang sat up on the daybed. It was late spring, a time of faint chills and gentle warmth. She had been napping in a pavilion with a thin quilt covering her. As she sat up, the quilt slid off. A palace attendant, seeing her chance, stepped forward to take the quilt and fold it away.

Puyang stood up and walked out of the pavilion.

The spring day was bright and beautiful, her eyes filled with vibrant life. All around were lush, fine trees, ancient cypresses, and wisteria. Ah, spring—when all things grew luxuriantly. This verdant scenery made one feel they could not bear to waste such a wonderful time.

The terrifying dream still lingered faintly. For the past half-month, bl00d and fire had been tightly woven into her dreams, robbing her of peaceful sleep. Even so, she felt incredibly fortunate. Compared to what she had gained, these cold and sinister things that existed only in her dreams were truly not worth mentioning.

Puyang began to walk toward her own palace, the long train of her skirt brushing softly against the bluestone path, followed by several palace attendants.

She had drunk that cup of poisoned wine, fully prepared to die. Who would have known that upon opening her eyes, she would return to the year she was seventeen.

This was the eighteenth year of the Taichu era. The Emperor was still alive and well, the princes’ struggle for the throne was growing ever more intense, and the one who would ultimately gain the throne, Imperial Grandson Xiao Dewen, was currently just an eight-year-old child.

Everything was still at a stage where much could be achieved.

Puyang strolled along the palace path, which was flanked by dense groves. Lush greenery was everywhere, and her heart felt expansive. To live a life was already a great fortune; to be able to start over was an even greater favor from the heavens.

Past this palace path and through a grove of dense, green trees, one could see Kunming Pool. The pool’s surface was vast, with islands scattered about. Farther in the distance, mist rose from the water, making it seem like a celestial realm.

Puyang stood by the edge of the pool. The water reflected the azure sky, and ripples spread across its surface with the gentle breeze. Everything before her was so vivid and real. The taste of being alive was truly moving.

She reached out and gently stroked a drooping willow branch. The tender leaves were full and slightly cool to the touch, yet so full of life. Since the heavens had shown her such great favor, how could she possibly fail this hard-won new life.

Back in the palace, the attendants had already made all the preparations.

Today was the Shangsi Festival, and Puyang intended to go to the banks of the Luo River for a spring outing with the various princes and princesses.

It was late spring, when wildflowers bloomed on the trees and the grass grew long as orioles took flight. The countryside was full of rustic charm, making it the perfect season for an excursion out of the city. The Luo River was as clear as a mirror, and the hills on both banks were covered in a layer of verdant green turf. At a glance, the green seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon.

When imperial princes and princesses went on an outing, pomp and ceremony were indispensable.

In the distance, guards stood in rows. Closer by, attendants held cups and goblets, carried ewers and braziers, or held towels and horsetail whisks—everything was provided for.

The servants brought from her residence bustled about, setting up screens in sequence on the pleasant green turf, followed by low tables laden with food and drink. Fine delicacies, fresh fruits, and clear wine were laid out, a sight that would stir anyone’s spirits.

At this time, the strict separation of men and women was not yet heavily enforced. The Three Obediences and Four Virtues required of women existed, but not to an inhumane degree. For the daughters of the Son of Heaven, who were born with endless power, society was even more tolerant. As long as it was not flaunted openly, even such licentious matters as keeping male paramours were things the ministers would turn a blind eye to. As for ruining one’s reputation, that was another matter entirely.

Therefore, the Shangsi outing was not an event where princes and princesses separated into their own groups. Instead, all the princes and princesses gathered in one place to enjoy themselves to the fullest. Princesses who got along well with their husbands even brought their consorts along. The princely consorts, however, were not to be seen.

Since it was a spring outing, leisurely activities were a must. They floated cups down a winding stream by the banks of the Luo River, raced horses and played Cuju on the open ground, or walked in twos and threes on the green grass, singing or reciting poetry as they pleased.

At noon, everyone returned in high spirits and gathered here, sitting at their respective tables. Seated at the head was the second imperial son, Xiao Zuan, who had been enfeoffed as the Prince of Zhao.

The current Son of Heaven did not have a great many heirs, but nor could they be called few. Excluding those who died in infancy, six sons and eight daughters had reached adulthood. At the beginning of the year, the Emperor had grandly enfeoffed his children, and the princes and princesses all received their own titles and fiefdoms. The second son, Xiao Zuan, was made Prince of Zhao; the third son, Xiao Lun, Prince of Jin; the fourth son, Xiao Wei, Prince of Dai; the sixth son, Xiao Yi, Prince of Jing; the eighth child, Xiao Yuan, Prince of Han; and the tenth son, Xiao Zhan, Prince of Teng. The eldest imperial son, who had died of illness three years prior, was posthumously named Prince of Yan, and his son, Xiao Dewen, received the title Prince of Donghai Commandery through his father’s legacy.

In the half-month since her rebirth, Puyang had focused on two things. First, she sent people to inquire about Wei Xiu’s whereabouts. She had to find him and then recruit him. Second, she was finding out what had happened in the imperial court and the inner palace during this time.

Although she had returned to twelve years in the past and had experienced many of these events before, so many years had passed that while she remembered the major events, the trivial, everyday matters were long forgotten. Yet, it was these small matters that daily words and actions revolved around.

The Prince of Jin was seated next to Puyang. He smiled and spoke to her, “A couple of days ago, I went to the palace to pay my respects to Father. I heard that a month ago, Seventh Lady presented a fine strategy to Father, which indeed resolved a worry that was weighing on his mind.”

Hearing this, Puyang turned her head to look at the Prince of Jin. A smile touched her lips, and her voice was melodious and pleasant as she replied in a soft tone, “Brother, you have excellent sources.”

She was dressed in a goose-yellow curved-hem robe, her bearing graceful and her movements noble. Her every action, whether sitting, standing, or walking, was a pleasing sight. Such a woman should have been gentle and tender, yet her eyes held a sharp glint, and the upward curve of her lips revealed an unrestrained brightness that showed she would not suffer the slightest grievance.

The Prince of Jin’s amiable smile remained on his face, but his eyes could not suppress the gathering jealousy and resentment. Father would never listen to his words, yet as soon as Seventh Lady offered a suggestion, Father accepted it. The governors of Qing and You provinces had only just pledged their allegiance to him before the new year. Puyang’s move—whether by accident or because she had already sided with Second Brother and was acting on his behalf—had, with a single imperial edict, brought down the governor of You. The one in Qing had become like a bird startled by the twang of a bowstring. Forget following his orders, he dared not even say half a word, terrified of following in his predecessor’s footsteps.

With so many people around, the jealousy in the Prince of Jin’s eyes lasted only a moment before it dissipated, replaced once more by his warm and magnanimous appearance.

All the princes were present, along with five princesses and two of their consorts. The consorts were also from noble families and held positions at court, so they were naturally well-informed. Hearing the exchange, they all intentionally or unintentionally turned their attention toward them.

Becoming the focus of everyone’s attention, Princess Puyang merely smiled. She raised her cup and picked up her chopsticks without a trace of discomfort, perfectly at ease.

The Prince of Zhao at the head of the tables was not so composed. He had a powerful build, which seemed even more robust and imposing after a few cups of wine. Hearing their conversation, he laughed heartily. “Are you talking about Qing and You provinces? Father was too merciful, too lenient. Both of them should have been executed. What’s the point of keeping them around?” As he spoke, he glanced unsubtly toward the Prince of Jin. “If you ask me, killing them isn’t enough. Their corpses should be mutilated and their heads displayed publicly, to let the world know the fate of those who harbor disloyal intentions.”

He had always been of such an impulsive and violent temperament, so no one was surprised to hear him say such things. Princess Pingyang and the Prince of Dai exchanged a look, and both saw a mocking sneer in the other’s eyes.

“Brother Zhao, those words are improper. What do you mean by disloyal intentions? The Governor of You improperly intercepted tribute goods, which was indeed wrong, but it can hardly be called ‘disloyalty.’” The one who spoke was the Prince of Jing, Xiao Yi. Among the princes, he alone bore a slight resemblance to the Prince of Jin; both had fine brows, long eyes, a high nose, and a broad forehead, giving them an approachable appearance. However, their temperaments were very different. The Prince of Jing was shrewd, with a scholarly elegance, while the Prince of Jin concealed his sharpness, presenting a magnanimous and imposing figure. The two were often together and shared a considerable rapport.

Compared to the Prince of Zhao’s merciless words, the Prince of Jing’s were more reasoned. The Governor of You had been dismissed, but not executed or imprisoned; he was merely retired at home. It was not impossible that he could be reappointed if a good opportunity arose in the future. But if he had harbored disloyal intentions, death would have been his only path. With the Emperor’s handling of the matter as evidence, the Prince of Jing’s few words left the Prince of Zhao speechless. The Prince of Zhao gripped his wine cup tightly, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the Prince of Jing. The banquet fell silent. Puyang watched with utter boredom. Scenes like this had played out constantly since she was old enough to remember, only stopping after Xiao Dewen was named Crown Grandson and the Princes of Jin and Dai were exiled for various reasons.

The singing and dancing in the courtyard had stopped at some point. The Prince of Zhao stared at the Prince of Jing, leaning forward slightly as if poised to strike. Just as everyone thought the Prince of Zhao was about to erupt in anger, he suddenly burst out laughing, slapped the dining table, and declared loudly, “Sixth Brother is right! I was inconsiderate. I’ll punish myself with three cups!”

With that, he waved for a servant to pour the wine and, to everyone’s astonishment, heartily drank three cups. He then told everyone not to stand on ceremony and to drink freely! The surprise lasted only a moment. In a flash, the princes and princesses resumed urging each other to drink as if nothing had happened.

Such was the custom of the time. Any man of letters or renown was expected to be able to drink, and not just from small cups one by one. One had to fill a large goblet or beaker, tilt one’s head back, and drain it to display an air of unrestrained elegance. To break the night curfew or jest with princes and marquises after drinking was considered the mark of a truly free-spirited and unconventional scholar. As this was the way of the world, most people drank, and to abstain from wine at a banquet was to invite ridicule.

When the banquet ended, Puyang appeared slightly drunk. Leaning on her maid’s arm, she boarded her carriage. The Prince of Zhao was truly drunk. Supported by his servants, he scanned with wide eyes for Puyang’s carriage. When he finally found it, he lunged toward it. His servants couldn’t hold him steady and hurried after him to keep him from falling.

“Seventh Lady.”

At the single call, Puyang lifted the window curtain and looked out. The Prince of Zhao, leaning on his servants, said with hazy, drunken eyes, “Are you returning to the palace? How many people do you have with you? Are there enough armored guards at your disposal?”

The Prince of Zhao’s temperament was never that of a meticulous person. When had he ever been so considerate? Hearing his questions, Puyang was inwardly surprised but did not show it. She only said, “I am indeed returning to the palace, and I have enough guards. Thank you for your concern, Brother.”

The Prince of Zhao nodded and took a step back, so unsteady he could barely stand. It was thanks to the quick-witted servants behind him that he was held up firmly.

Seeing this, Puyang bid him farewell and her carriage drove away.

It was early in the last month of spring. Along the road, a gentle breeze blew and willows swayed, a picture of tranquil spring beauty. The road was filled with travelers as numerous as threads in a tapestry, all having come from the city for a spring outing, enjoying the boundless spring scenery amidst the flowers and willows.

Puyang sat inside the carriage, her eyes lightly closed as if in a shallow sleep. Her maids dared not make a sound, waiting quietly by her side.

A carriage built to a princess’s specifications was bound to be of the highest quality. Moreover, among all the princes and princesses, Puyang was the most favored. Whatever fine things there were, the Emperor always bestowed them upon her first before considering others. The things she used, while not quite on par with the Emperor’s, were not far off.

The carriage moved smoothly, without the slightest jolt. Pedestrians on the road saw the gold decorations on the carriage and knew it must belong to a prince or duke on an outing. They all moved to the sides, waiting for the carriage to pass before continuing on their way.

Everyone was returning to the city, and normally several carriages would have traveled together. But Puyang had an unresolved knot in her heart and had decided before coming that she would go to a secluded villa for a few days, so she traveled alone.

She had drunk some wine at the banquet and had appeared slightly intoxicated earlier, but looking at her now, there was no trace of drunkenness. Her thoughts were perfectly clear. She was pondering the Prince of Zhao’s uncharacteristic behavior today; he must have been advised by someone. As for him coming up to her carriage before she left to feign closeness with a few questions, that must have been for Third Brother’s benefit. That was not a pressing matter for now; things would not descend into chaos just yet. What truly weighed on Puyang’s mind was Wei Xiu’s whereabouts. The people she had sent out had searched inside and outside the capital for half a month without finding a single clue. The world was vast; if he was not in the capital, how could she possibly find him?

In her previous life, Wei Xiu had been Xiao Dewen’s strategist. As a mere commoner, he had helped place Xiao Dewen on the imperial throne. Xiao Dewen followed his every word, and he, in turn, devised strategies for him, destroying most of her arrangements and making her want to kill him with her own hands several times over to vent her fury.

The road outside grew rough, and the carriage began to jolt slightly. A dreadful, ominous premonition suddenly washed over her. Puyang’s eyes flew open. She lifted the window curtain and saw that there were fewer travelers outside. They had entered a stretch of road that few people used, flanked by dense mountain forests. In the third month of spring, a season of rebirth, the forest that should have been filled with birdsong was trapped in a deathly silence.

The ominous feeling grew stronger. Puyang dropped the curtain and called out sharply, “Sound the alert! Return to the palace!”

Someone outside immediately answered, “Yes!”

The carriage and horses were ordered to turn around. Puyang sat ramrod straight, her eyes lowered to the thick, soft cushion beneath her, saying nothing, but her ears were keenly listening to the sounds around her.

Suddenly, a cry of alarm came from outside the carriage: “Assassins!”

It was followed by a wave of panic outside.

Puyang’s hands, hidden in her sleeves, suddenly clenched.

The cry of “Assassins!” had barely faded when the sharp clang of weapons meeting rang out. Just from the sound, she knew there were many assassins. Puyang’s eyes were open, staring straight ahead. The carriage was still moving, but it soon stopped. One after another, screams echoed from outside. Bl00d splattered onto the snow-white paper of the window beside her, a gory sight like red plum blossoms blooming on white snow, utterly soul-stirring.

A palace maid serving in the carriage saw the bloodstains and screamed, her eyes wide with terror as she trembled uncontrollably.

Puyang remained seated, listening carefully to the sounds outside to discern the state of the battle while countless countermeasures flashed through her mind, none of which could turn the tide. Fear finally began to rise in her heart. Today, here, her chances of survival were slim!

The sounds of fierce fighting continued in her ears. At this moment of mortal peril, Puyang’s expression grew grim, her clear black-and-white eyes as turbulent as stormy waves.

To surrender to death was never her style. The carriage was cramped; if she hid here, once her guards were all slaughtered, there would be nowhere to run. But if she put up a fight, there might still be a sliver of hope.

Author’s Notes:

The title of this piece could also be ‘The Story of Xiuxiu and Honghong’.

Xiuxiu will appear in the next chapter. Her legs are not well, so please don’t discriminate against her.

And here are the princess’s relatives:

Eldest Imperial Son, the Prince of Yan, is deceased. His eldest son is Xiao Dewen, enfeoffed as the Prince of Donghai Commandery. He was the emperor who ultimately gained the throne in the previous life.

Second Imperial Son, Prince of Zhao, Xiao Zuan.

Third Imperial Son, Prince of Jin, Xiao Lun.

Fourth Imperial Son, Prince of Dai, Xiao Wei. (The ones above are the main contenders for the throne.)

Sixth Imperial Son, Prince of Jing, Xiao Yi. He is allied with the Prince of Jin.

Eighth Imperial Child, Prince of Han, Xiao Yuan.

Tenth Imperial Son, Prince of Teng, Xiao Zhan. (The last two are still young.)

The princesses are not as important, but are more or less involved.