Ex-Girlfriend – Chapter 37
by Little PandaPower Overwhelming the Court
Deposed Empress 12
Covering the Sky with One Hand
It was no wonder the old woman had misunderstood. Xin Lan’s hair was pinned up in a married woman’s coiffure, and Qu Zhian was holding her hand—at a glance, who wouldn’t assume Xin Lan was Qu Zhian’s wife?
Qu Zhian was caught off guard at first, her face flushing red. She gave a vague, noncommittal reply and glanced at Xin Lan. Seeing no objection from her, she guided her to sit down on a bench.
Not that Xin Lan had any reaction to give. Being mistaken for someone else didn’t trouble her in the slightest. She sat down with perfect composure and waited while Qu Zhian ordered two bowls of wontons.
Settled in her seat and seeing Xin Lan’s unruffled demeanor, Qu Zhian didn’t know what she had to feel so shy about. She silently scolded herself, finalized the order with the old woman, and waited for the wontons to arrive.
Qu Zhian hadn’t been wrong—this place’s wontons were indeed delicious.
The aroma drifted to Xin Lan’s nose and prompted her to lift her veil.
In the white porcelain bowl, the clear broth held a cluster of wontons pressed together, each with a thin skin and generous filling, scattered with a sprinkle of chopped scallions—almost too pretty to eat.
When the old woman brought the wontons over, she caught sight of Xin Lan’s face and paused for a moment, then lavishly praised Qu Zhian’s good fortune in marrying such a lovely bride.
The embarrassment Qu Zhian had barely suppressed surged up again. From the corner of her eye she stole a glance at Xin Lan, while on the surface she accepted the compliment with composed grace.
Xin Lan smiled faintly without a word, looking every bit the demure, reserved young woman. Qu Zhian knew better—she just couldn’t be bothered to speak—sitting there spooning wontons into her mouth.
After they finished their breakfast, full daylight had arrived.
The sun, beating down, carried an undeniable heat.
Qu Zhian wiped the thin sheen of sweat from her brow and led Xin Lan toward a teahouse.
In the height of summer, the shaded interior of a teahouse was comparatively cool. With a pot of chilled tea and a few plates of light, refreshing cakes, one could sit there listening to the storyteller spin entertaining yarns, and an entire morning would pass in no time.
Xin Lan nibbled on tea cakes while listening to the storyteller weave tales of love and vendetta, genuinely entertained.
This was far more interesting than being cooped up in the cold palace—or, for that matter, than the life the original host had led when she was still Empress.
Today the storyteller was spinning a tale of romance. Such stories always thrived on a gap in status between the lovers—whether an ancient wealthy heiress and a penniless scholar, or a modern office clerk and a domineering CEO.
Today’s tale was about a young opera actress from a traveling troupe and a military commander.
The troupe had set up a stage to perform, and a young beggar came every day to sneak a peek at the actress singing her parts. The young actress had a kind heart. Taking pity on the beggar boy who had no food or clothes, she secretly slipped him provisions. But the troupe master found out and beat her mercilessly. When the young actress performed again, a wealthy young master reached out to grope her. The beggar saw this and charged forward, pummeling the man in a rage.
The audience murmured with sympathy, saying the beggar boy was surely doomed—and sure enough, the storyteller continued: the beggar was beaten senseless by the wealthy young master’s servants and dumped in the mountains. The mountains were full of wolves and wild dogs. By the time the young actress heard what had happened, the beggar boy was nowhere to be found.
She slipped out of the troupe in secret and, swallowing her fear, walked the mountain paths, searching all night without finding him.
The storyteller was masterful, bringing the young actress so vividly to life that it felt as though one could truly see the frail girl stumbling step by step through the mountains, searching inch by inch.
Xin Lan’s expression didn’t change. She sipped her chilled tea and listened, her face betraying neither sorrow nor joy, seemingly unmoved.
Qu Zhian had felt a pang of sympathy, but watching Xin Lan sit there like that, the pity faded somewhat.
“Lan’er, do you find this story unmoving?”
Qu Zhian summoned the nerve to use the diminutive, and once she said it, felt far more at ease.
Xin Lan merely raised an eyebrow at the form of address and let it pass.
“Moving. It’s just that perhaps I’ve been cold-hearted for so long that I can’t be moved anymore.”
This was, perhaps, the indifference of the strong toward the emotions of the weak.
It wasn’t that Xin Lan was entirely untouched. She simply reflected that if one were strong enough, one wouldn’t suffer for this kind of love.
It was like someone born into a wealthy family who could never understand why people would quarrel bitterly over a few hundred yuan and let a relationship fall apart over it.
The metaphor might not be perfectly apt, but it was true.
Xin Lan couldn’t cast herself as a character in the story, so naturally she wouldn’t be moved by it.
Qu Zhian wanted to argue that Xin Lan wasn’t truly cold-hearted, but for the moment couldn’t find the right words. She simply held the stubborn belief that this person was, in fact, very warm.
She always gave her a sense of ease—just sitting there, saying nothing.
There was something complex about her presence. It wasn’t calm self-restraint, nor was it apathy. If one had to find a word, it might be: looking down from on high.
Because she occupied a lofty position, her feelings about the human world were very faint—yet she wasn’t without temper. Sometimes her emotions were as vivid as a splash-ink landscape painting.
The thought seemed absurd, yet felt true.
After sitting in the teahouse all morning, Qu Zhian took Xin Lan to a well-reviewed restaurant she had visited before. They ordered fine wine and dishes, ate and drank at a leisurely pace, and once the afternoon sun shifted, Qu Zhian led Xin Lan to the lakeside.
Lotus-picking girls sat in pointed little boats, threading among the lotus blossoms, plucking seed pods. They wove broad lotus leaves into pretty hats and perched them on their heads, the swaying canopy of green a splash of coolness in the summer heat.
Qu Zhian rented a small boat, helped Xin Lan aboard, and rowed along the current into the depths of Lianhua Lake.
Lying back in the boat and looking up, the sky seemed an extraordinary blue, soft white clouds drifting lazily past—utterly leisurely.
The clean lake water mirrored the bright sky. From somewhere came the call of an unknown bird, and white waterbirds skimmed the lake’s surface, sending tiny ripples outward.
Qu Zhian reached out, plucked a lotus seed pod, and placed it in Xin Lan’s hand.
“Yan Yan, you really know how to enjoy yourself. The way you handle that so skillfully—do you come here often?”
“Only twice. The first time, I couldn’t forget it. It’s a wonderful spot, but I don’t always have the free time to come. Today was the perfect opportunity, so I brought you to escape the heat.”
“That’s thoughtful of you.”
Xin Lan was never stingy with thanks. When others treated her well, she acknowledged it.
“Yan Yan.”
Xin Lan looked at the person sitting by the boat’s edge, trailing her fingers through the cool lake water, and called out softly.
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to taste the feeling of power overwhelming the court?”
Qu Zhian’s body gave a slight start at these words, but she didn’t lose her composure. She thought it over carefully before giving her answer.
“I only want to reach a position high enough to protect you and support whatever you do.”
The answer delighted Xin Lan. She peeled a lotus seed and placed it at Qu Zhian’s lips.
With a friend like this, what more could one ask?
Xin Lan returned to the palace after nightfall.
Si Tong and Chun Yue had not seen Xin Lan all day and were uneasy. When they saw her return, the stone in their hearts finally dropped.
They didn’t ask where their mistress had gone. One inquired whether she had eaten dinner; the other went to pour chilled tea.
“Mistress, the Empress came looking for you during the day. This servant told her you hadn’t slept well last night and were resting. She left, but said she would come again tomorrow.”
“Did she say what she wanted?”
“She didn’t mention. Only that she would return tomorrow.”
Xin Lan nodded, signaling she understood.
Xin Long coming to seek her out was undoubtedly about the Emperor and the Xin family. Given the current situation, it was most likely the latter.
And conveniently enough, she too had matters that were long overdue for discussion with the original host’s father, the Left Chancellor.
Once a woman married into another household, her family couldn’t easily visit her—and marrying into the imperial palace made visits even harder. Unless she was exceptionally favored and the Emperor granted special permission, they couldn’t simply come in to see her.
Clearly, the Emperor didn’t want Xin Long seeing her Xin family relatives too often. But if she cited homesickness as a reason, the Emperor couldn’t very well refuse her outright.
Xin Long paced her palace. She was young and had never been able to hide things well. Today her mother had come to the palace and told her some things that left her anxious—yet she couldn’t show it in front of outsiders. So she had rushed to find her aunt, but her aunt was resting, and she couldn’t disturb her.
The matter wasn’t desperately urgent, either. Even in her innocence, she knew the Xin family was on the decline. Even if she blurted it all out to her aunt, what could that change?
She slumped into a chair and decided to talk to her aunt tomorrow.
“Ming Xiang, am I very useless? I can’t help with anything at all.”
“Mistress, don’t belittle yourself like that. Let’s do what we can and leave the rest to fate.”
Ming Xiang comforted her in a low voice, patting the young mistress’s back.
Xin Lan had no idea that her young niece was currently frantic and despondent. Though she had just returned from outside the palace, she was not at leisure.
She had other business to attend to—a scheme she had set in motion long ago.
As the moon rose past the willow branches, it was precisely the hour when the brothels and pleasure houses opened their doors to welcome guests.
Dong Huaixi walked along the road in plainclothes, in no good mood, his face dark and brooding.
Today His Majesty had summoned him to the palace and dressed him down severely, saying that an assassin had slipped in during the night and the Imperial Guard had been utterly oblivious.
Fortunately, the assassin hadn’t been particularly formidable—only inflicting a minor wound before fleeing in haste, apparently afraid of drawing attention.
Dong Huaixi had immediately dropped to his knees to confess his failure. Fortunately, the Emperor didn’t pursue the matter too harshly and said that word couldn’t be spread publicly lest someone with ill intent take advantage of the situation. He was simply to strengthen the surrounding patrols.
He understood His Majesty’s reasoning. If word of this got out, those who wanted to bring him down would surely seize the opportunity to have the Emperor punish him. The Emperor had personally elevated him to his current position—how could he allow that to happen?
Dong Huaixi was both chagrined and ashamed. He had strengthened the defenses, and tonight, after switching shifts, he had come out to drink away his frustration.
He had an understanding flower1 at Hongxiu Pavilion. He had originally wanted to buy out her contract and bring her home, but he had a tigress of a wife there. If he actually brought the woman back, wouldn’t the house be turned upside down? He had no choice but to let his understanding flower remain in that place of dust and pleasure, visiting her whenever he had the time.
With these thoughts, Dong Huaixi quickened his pace.
Inside Hongxiu Pavilion, the scent of rouge and face powder mingled with the smell of wine, fermenting into an intoxicating bouquet.
Languid music was plucked from strings, making those who heard it drift in a daze.
Xin Lan watched the woman tuck the silver away and stand by the window.
“Then I’ll trouble you with this, miss.”
“Please rest assured.”
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Three updates! Hurrah!
Another day to be proud of!
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