Fish Meat – Chapter 260
by Little PandaThe Fifth Year of Guangxing
Unofficial Histories (3)
Before she even entered the main doors of the bedchamber palace, the rich aroma of roasting meat assailed Zhen Wenjun’s senses. Zhen Wenjun’s spirits soared; from the nuances in the fragrance, she could discern how cooked the roast leg of lamb was, almost seeing the glistening, sputtering fat, the lamb leg—crispy skin, tender meat—right before her eyes. She had already eaten quite a few foreign fruits and vegetables while listening to the storyteller at the tavern, yet now she was hungry again. Rubbing her belly, a delightful breeze seemed to spring up beneath her feet, whisking her into the palace in a gust.
Many old wounds had healed somewhat over the years, but the trauma was from long ago, and age advanced year by year. Coupled with the fact that she no longer personally led troops into battle after becoming the Monarch of Changge Kingdom, Zhen Wenjun felt her body growing increasingly sluggish. Every year, new minor ailments popped up, making her uncomfortable.
She was older, her movements less agile; riding a horse for even a slightly extended period left her with an aching back and sore waist. Only one thing hadn’t changed: her appetite.
No matter how much her waist hurt or how rusty her limbs felt, her meal portions never decreased. She might eat a bit less when alone, but once Xiao Xiao came to share a couple of drinks with her, the two of them, holding their food basins, chatting and eating, could devour two days’ worth of wine and meat meant for the palace steps guards. What made others most envious was that no matter how much she ate, she never got fat. According to Ah Mu, the descendants of Changge Kingdom had miraculous blood flowing in their veins. In the past, the ancestors of the Ruan Clan were all like this, eating and drinking voraciously. When the family of eight ate together, they’d have to slaughter a whole cow and a sheep so fat it had no neck for a single meal, plus five large jars of wine—and that might not even be enough. Ah Mu said that when she was young, she alone could drink a whole jar in one sitting, feeling more energetic the more she drank.
Delicious food was important to Zhen Wenjun not just because she was gluttonous, but because it was a need carried in her very bones.
Wei Tingxu telling Ah Liao that a single roast leg of lamb could make her obediently return was not baseless chatter.
“May the Empress enjoy eternal joy and boundlessness!”
As Zhen Wenjun walked through the palace gate, a group of maids curtsied in greeting. Patrolling guards also stopped and bowed to her, calling out the Empress’s title in unison. Zhen Wenjun wanted to smile and wave them off, telling them not to make a fuss, but suddenly remembered she was in Da Cang, where all laws were strict, having inherited many Confucian rites and proprieties from the preceding state of Yu, unlike her Changge Kingdom. Wei Tingxu had not officially appointed an Empress, but everyone in this Shu Yuan, inside and out, knew she was Wei Tingxu’s first wife; calling her Empress was hardly unwarranted.
Since she was in Da Cang, it was best to follow Da Cang’s customs. Zhen Wenjun nodded, straightened her posture, her smile elegant and dignified.
Although it fell far short of the true bearing required of an Empress, she had at least made an effort.
Following the winding floating bridge, she arrived at the small courtyard in the pond. A cool breeze blew across the water’s surface, refreshing her spirit.
“Zizhuo.”
Walking to the courtyard entrance, the aroma of roast lamb grew ever stronger.
This small courtyard was still named “Zhuojun”, seemingly built by Wei Tingxu specifically for Zhen Wenjun. To openly construct a personal villa within another country’s imperial palace—Zhen Wenjun was probably the only one ever to have such a privilege.
Normally, the courtyard gate was left open; Zhen Wenjun could enter doing a handstand and no one would question it. But today it was closed? What did this mean? Could something be amiss?
Zhen Wenjun didn’t go straight in, instead calling out from outside.
“Your Majesty.” Wei Tingxu’s soft voice came from within the room. “I1 have waited long for Your Majesty.”
Zhen Wenjun froze.
Your Majesty? I (Qie)?
If she weren’t so utterly familiar with Wei Tingxu’s voice, Zhen Wenjun would truly suspect if the person speaking inside was actually her.
This founding Emperor of Da Cang, a Monarch who had established the nation’s foundation through military might in chaotic times, a peerless formidable leader who seemed ready to defy heaven and earth, referring to herself as “I” (qie)? What kind of game was this? Moreover, when they were alone, Wei Tingxu always called her “Furen”2 or “Wenjun.” What was this “Your Majesty” business now?
Could it be that besides the Yulu Wan3, Ah Liao had prepared other stimulating medicines? Had Zizhuo already taken them?
At this thought, “Your Majesty” and “I” (qie) became increasingly intriguing. Zhen Wenjun’s eyes brightened as she pushed the courtyard gate open directly.
There was no screen wall built inside the courtyard, allowing a clear view of the small bridge leading to the main building. On either side of the bridge were strangely shaped lake stones piled into artificial hills and clear pond water. A potted plant Zhen Wenjun had personally pruned was an ever-red maple, like a pot of fire. Wei Tingxu held it in her arms, reclining on a high wooden platform at the end of the small bridge.
Wei Tingxu’s long hair was unbound. With one hand holding the red maple and the other still grasping a wine pot, she lay sideways, her jade-like body partially visible beneath her long skirt. A strand of dark hair clung to her fiery red lips, the heat in her eyes undisguised as it sprayed towards Zhen Wenjun, making her burn from the inside out.
Zhen Wenjun’s heart pounded. Flicking her long robe aside, she strode quickly towards her.
She hadn’t expected Ah Liao to be so thoughtful.
Zhen Wenjun had been in Cang for over two months, and the Jile Dan4 she brought had long since run out. Wei Tingxu’s insensitive constitution hadn’t changed much after many years; if they forced things, she feared it would cause her pain.
There were no medicinal primers needed for her exclusive formula here in Boling. She had already sent someone back to retrieve them, but unfortunately, that person encountered heavy rain halfway, fell off a cliff, and nearly died. She had only received this person’s express message three days ago, and had now dispatched another person back to Changge. Nowadays, there was an expressway built between the capitals of the two kingdoms, allowing arrival in as fast as six days—already a rare achievement in the world—but a round trip still required twelve days.
Recently, the two of them hadn’t been without attempts, but all ended in failure. Zhen Wenjun couldn’t bear for Wei Tingxu to suffer even the slightest discomfort.
How could the greatest pleasure under heaven leave behind a shadow5?
Seeing Wei Tingxu being so proactive, she probably already had a plan6. Could it be that Wei Tingxu had already told Ah Liao about the Jile Dan matter? And Ah Liao had thus offered help?
These two close friends truly shared everything.
The potted plant was pushed aside by Zhen Wenjun. Wei Tingxu’s loosely tied sash fell away with a single pull.
The cool moonlight spilled onto the exquisite face of the person beneath her, unable to extinguish the heat in her eyes.
“Where is the Yulu Wan?” Wei Tingxu asked, expertly wrapping her arms around her neck.
Zhen Wenjun took the pill out from her brocade pouch.
Wei Tingxu asked her to feed it to her.
“Zizhuo, do you know how arduous the ten months of pregnancy7 are? My Ah Mu once told me of the hardships involved. Not only must one endure suffering, but it also takes a great deal of time. Although you have Wei He to assist you now, I know you are unwilling to truly let great power fall into others’ hands. If you really become pregnant, aren’t you afraid someone might…”
“Feed me.” Wei Tingxu ignored her many worries, repeating herself.
How could Zhen Wenjun not know that Wei Tingxu was someone with extremely strong opinions? She wouldn’t do something like this without absolute certainty, or even having already paved the way for retreat.
Yet the Yulu Wan remained clutched in Zhen Wenjun’s hand.
“How about this.” Zhen Wenjun’s face flushed slightly. “You and I, half each. I… also want to have your child.”
Wei Tingxu gazed at her, then smiled.
Receiving the signal of consent, Zhen Wenjun smiled and held the pill between her lips, moving to kiss Wei Tingxu. Just as she was about to bite off half, Wei Tingxu unexpectedly played foul, snatching the entire pill into her mouth and swallowing it immediately.
“Zizhuo, you…” Zhen Wenjun truly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I have always been treacherous, how could Your Majesty not know.” Wei Tingxu was being unusually mischievous, but this mischief had significant implications. She even shed her imperial dignity, grinning cheekily. It seemed she had no other plans from the start.
Seeing her speak freely, Zhen Wenjun understood the pill had already been swallowed, and could only look at her helplessly. Thinking of what she might face in the future, she began to feel heartache. At the same time, there was a wondrous feeling.
Could there truly be a child in the world, who resembled both her and Zizhuo, the crystallization of her and Zizhuo?
Wei Tingxu relayed what Ah Liao had said earlier: the main ingredient of the Yulu Wan came from the egg of the Black-Browed King Snake. This snake was hermaphroditic8 with an extremely low survival rate, typically living deep within snow-capped mountains. Finding it was already difficult, let alone obtaining its egg. The Black-Browed King Snake produced only one egg in its lifetime, and the egg would spoil and become unusable within the time it takes an incense stick to burn9 after leaving the snake.
Ancient texts recorded that the Black-Browed King Snake mated only once in its life, and the mating lasted for three months. For this lengthy three-month period, it and its partner needed to find a safe, secluded place beforehand to protect each other, undisturbed.
Therefore, this egg was exceedingly precious. Ah Liao initially had no confidence she could actually find it; fortunately, she eventually succeeded.
The Black-Browed King Snake’s mating was long and intense; perhaps it had effects similar to the Jile Dan. Ah Liao had also instructed that after taking the pill, its effects would last for twenty-four shichen, or even longer. During this period, one’s partner must carefully help resolve the effects for success to be achieved. Wei Tingxu had already postponed the morning court sessions for the next few days, approved the memorials, and even roasted a leg of lamb to replenish Zhen Wenjun’s energy.
Next, was the time for battle.
The two embraced and turned, engaging fully in foreplay. Wei Tingxu was teased until her heart itched with desire, wishing for quick release. But once they began the act, the familiar sensation of pain returned, lasting nearly a shichen with no progress.
Wei Tingxu couldn’t feel the pill’s effects. Could the Yulu Wan have failed?
Zhen Wenjun truly didn’t want to see her suffer, so she withdrew, holding her and helping her gradually calm down.
Wei Tingxu was greatly disappointed, though she didn’t show it much outwardly, Zhen Wenjun could see it. She stroked Wei Tingxu’s long hair, holding her as she slept.
“How could such a miraculous thing be achieved so easily? We shouldn’t have held such high hopes from the beginning,” Zhen Wenjun comforted her softly. “Let Ah Liao know later, so she’s aware10.”
Wei Tingxu barely slept all night. The Yulu Dan had no effect regarding matters of cloud and rain11, but unexpectedly, it could make one feel full of energy.
Since creating a person was unsuccessful, matters of state should not be delayed.
Early the next morning, a vigorous Wei Tingxu donned her court robes and arrived at Chonghua Hall. The assembled officials, who had expected a few days off, looked at each other in surprise upon being summoned back.
Fortunately, various state affairs in Da Cang were proceeding smoothly; there was always something to report on at any time. This morning court session didn’t fall flat either. Each department came forward one by one, proceeding in an orderly manner, just like a long-prepared session.
During a pause while reading a memorial, Wei He glanced unintentionally at Wei Tingxu, only to find her somewhat strange.
He knew Her Majesty had suffered severe injuries in her youth, and later endured many hardships establishing Da Cang. Although she had been carefully nursed, her complexion was usually pale year-round. But what was with the rosy flush on her cheeks now?
Besides the strange peach-pink hue floating on her cheeks, Wei He also noticed she seemed restless.
Her Majesty had always been an extremely restrained person; he had never seen her breach etiquette, especially not in the imperial court.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Wei Tingxu gripped the dragon head on the armrest of the Dragon Throne tightly, almost crushing it.
The Yulu Wan wasn’t ineffective; its effects were extremely strong. It was just that she hadn’t felt anything right after swallowing it last night, but now, at this moment, it was erupting wildly.
Wei Tingxu felt entirely unsteady. Though usually extremely sensitive to cold, beads of hot sweat gradually formed on the tip of her nose and forehead, and her mind was completely filled with thoughts of Zhen Wenjun.
As someone else was about to present a memorial, Wei Tingxu interrupted them.
She sat on the Dragon Throne, head slightly bowed, covering her face with her hand, her chest heaving uncontrollably.
“Summon Our Empress,” she could no longer care about anything else, fearing that enduring further would only lead to greater loss of composure. She absolutely could not disgrace herself before the assembled officials. “Bring Wenjun here!”
Footnotes
- Original: 妾 | qiè | A self-deprecating term historically used by women when addressing a superior, or sometimes between spouses as a sign of humility or intimacy.
- 夫人 | Fūrén | Madam; Lady; Wife. A respectful term.
- 雨露丸 | Yǔlù Wán | Lit. “Rain Dew Pill”.
- 极乐丹 | Jílè Dān | Lit. “Ultimate Bliss Pill”.
- Original: 留下陰影 | liú xià yīnyǐng | To leave a shadow; to cause lasting trauma or negative psychological impact.
- Original: 心裏有底 | xīnliyǒudǐ | Lit. “have bottom in one’s heart”; to know the score; to have a plan or confidence.
- Original: 十月懷胎 | shí yuè huáitāi | Ten months of pregnancy (using the traditional lunar calculation).
- Original: 雌雄同體 | cíxióng tóngtǐ | Hermaphroditic; possessing both male and female reproductive organs.
- Original: 一炷香 | yī zhù xiāng | The time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, a traditional Chinese time measurement, varying but often around 30 minutes to an hour.
- Original: 心裏有數 | xīnliyǒushù | Lit. “have numbers in one’s heart”; to know the score; to be aware of the situation.
- Original: 雲雨之事 | yúnyǔ zhī shì | Lit. “matters of clouds and rain”; a classical euphemism for sexual intercourse.
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