The Prime Minister’s Daughter and the Marquis’s Fool – Chapter 276
by Little PandaBonus Chapter 12
Your child subject likes Ying-meimei.
Under Zhao Ningying’s gaze, Qu Ning climbed down from the carriage all the same. Had she claimed that staying the night here was simply a matter of feelings she could not restrain, perhaps her Empress Mother and Mother Emperor would not have blamed her.
Zhao Ningying watched Qu Ning stride over, well aware that she wished to stay, yet she did not speak a word urging her back to the palace.
But with Zhao Ningying standing mere inches away, Qu Ning found herself quite unable to open her mouth. She looked at Zhao Ningying, her gaze shimmering with lingering tenderness and warmth. “These next two days I likely won’t be able to come by again. Things should be getting busy on your end as well—spend more of that time keeping the two aunts company.”
The smile stayed on Zhao Ningying’s face, though it had dimmed somewhat. She nodded. “All right. I understand.”
Qu Ning studied that gentle face. Just as puzzlement began to surface in Zhao Ningying’s expression, she said quietly, “I’m going. Go back in and rest well.”
Zhao Ningying gazed at Qu Ning and softly pressed her lips together. “Mm.”
Qu Ning did not lift her head to look at her again. She turned and left.
Even after the soldier driving the horses wheeled the carriage around and departed, Zhao Ningying, standing beyond the residence gates, never saw Qu Ning’s figure appear again.
Zhao Ningying lingered a long while beneath the red lanterns at the gate, gazing off at the dark stretch of road in the distance. After a moment she lowered her eyes, turned, and went back inside.
The Imperial Palace.
When Qu Ning returned to the palace and learned that Qu Sheng and Lin Xizhao had not yet retired for the night, she went to pay her respects, covered head to toe in dust and grime.
“Your child subject greets Mother Emperor and Empress Mother.”
Qu Sheng was mid-game of chess with Lin Xizhao. Catching sight of Qu Ning kneeling on the floor, she gave her a once-over. “Up with you. That dust-caked look of yours—you went outside the city?”
Qu Ning stood to one side and raised her head to glance at the pair of them. Lin Xizhao, having just set down her stone, turned her eyes over as well. “The smell of roasted meat still hasn’t faded after all this time. You went hunting?”
Qu Ning laughed, answering warmly, “In reply to Empress Mother—Hemu-jiejie and the two meimei went out together to the riverside beyond the city walls and bagged a few game animals.”
Lin Xizhao’s brows curved. She glanced aside at the board, set her stone, and looked back over. “Did you enjoy yourselves?”
Qu Ning smiled. “Ying-meimei only just returned. After so long apart, the few of us juniors getting together was naturally a joy.”
“As long as you were happy.” Lin Xizhao rose, and Qu Sheng reached out a hand to steady her.
Lin Xizhao summoned a palace maid to bring warm water, dampened a cloth, wrung it out, and wiped Qu Ning’s face for her.
Qu Ning leaned forward a little to make things easier for her. Her height had now caught up to Qu Sheng’s—and showed every sign of overtaking it.
“Any gains today?” Lin Xizhao asked, meaning more than the words let on.
“What does Empress Mother mean?” Qu Ning asked, feigning innocence.
Lin Xizhao laughed softly, lips curving. Watching mother and daughter trade riddles, Qu Sheng spared them a single glance and went back to her chess.
When she played against Lin Xizhao, Lin Xizhao always went easy on her. Playing against herself—now that was rather harder.
Lin Xizhao sent Qu Ning off to change and ordered servants to prepare hot water for the Imperial Crown Princess’s bath.
Qu Ning sat and chatted with Lin Xizhao a while longer; before long, the two went out together. In the washing room, Lin Xizhao scrubbed her daughter’s back for her while asking after Qu Ning’s feelings toward Zhao Ningying.
“That Ying-meimei of yours is quick-witted by nature and has been considerate of others since she was small. Do you like her?”
Qu Ning’s temperament could be quite direct at times, which was why Lin Xizhao simply asked it outright. This journey to Jiangkou Great Camp would keep her away a full quarter at least, so she had to counsel her daughter well beforehand.
Qu Ning raised her head and slowly turned to face Lin Xizhao. Her brows drew lightly together; for an instant her lips pressed into a tight line. Then she replied, “Your child subject likes Ying-meimei.”
A glimmer of gratification rose in Lin Xizhao’s eyes. She turned her daughter back around and scrubbed at her shoulders and neck. “Then do you know whether she likes you in return?”
Qu Ning thought for a few moments. “Your child subject can feel her fondness—but cannot be sure which kind of fondness it is.”
Zhao Ningying seemed to treat everyone with the same mild warmth and attentiveness. She truly could feel that Zhao Ningying liked her; whether that liking was the same as her own, she could not pin down.
“Ying’er’s heart is delicate and perceptive. If you show her something of what you feel, she will understand it on her own.” Lin Xizhao’s voice was soft, her hands gentle as they moved.
Qu Ning gazed at the warm water in the bathing tub. Presently she turned her head toward Lin Xizhao behind her. “Your child subject understands.”
Lin Xizhao’s brows curved. She ladled up clean water and poured it over Qu Ning. “There. The rest you can manage yourself.”
Qu Ning nodded and took the towel from Lin Xizhao’s hand.
Lin Xizhao stepped out of the washing room. She had scarcely draped a thin cloak over her shoulders when she saw Qu Sheng coming from afar.
Lin Xizhao lowered her gaze and smiled in helpless fondness. She had never said she meant to lodge at Qu Ning’s—yet here was Qu Sheng, come to fetch her personally.
“Wife.” Qu Sheng, delighted to see Lin Xizhao emerge alone, reached out to take her hand. “The paths are slick. Mind your step.”
Lin Xizhao laid her hand upon Qu Sheng’s fingers. She made no point of asking why she had come, saying only, “Such a long way—why make the trip?”
Qu Sheng lifted her eyes to Lin Xizhao, a smile breaking through. As if Lin Xizhao could fail to know what was on her mind.
Qu Ning was leaving soon. Lin Xizhao cared so deeply for her that she would surely have wished to stay and keep her company—but if she kept their daughter company, she could not keep her company.
Even one night would not do. One night keeping their daughter company meant one night less beside Lin Xizhao.
However she ran the sums, she came out short. Their daughter was grown; in time, someone else would come along to cling to her side. But Lin Xizhao—Lin Xizhao was hers alone.
Reading the look on Qu Sheng’s face, Lin Xizhao knew she had guessed right. She gave a soft laugh, shook her head in helpless fondness, and left their daughter’s bedchamber with Qu Sheng.
For days on end, the skies stretched clear and cloudless.
True to her word, Qu Ning did not go to Zhao Ningying again—and Zhao Ningying did not come looking for her either.
Then the day of departure for Jiangkou Great Camp arrived, and the heavens turned without warning. The sun had barely shown itself before it was swallowed from view, and a fine drizzle came suddenly drifting down.
Qu Ning and the assembled commanders were in the Imperial Study receiving Qu Sheng’s instructions when Zhao Ningying arrived outside with her retinue.
Zhao Ningying, dressed in plain clothes, waited beyond the door, watching the fine rain drift down through the palace and thinking of the reluctant, lingering looks in her two parents’ eyes as they had seen her off.
“Ying-meimei.” Qu Ning drew open the Imperial Study door and called to her, low and soft.
At the sound, Zhao Ningying looked over. The worry and bewilderment scattered from her face, giving way to a smile as she offered a cupped-hand salute1. “This humble subject greets Your Highness.”
A trace of awkwardness crossed Qu Ning’s expression. They were within the palace, after all—outside the Imperial Study, no less—and Zhao Ningying was not wrong to address her so.
Still, she far preferred it when Zhao Ningying called her Ning-jiejie.
“No need for such ceremony. Mother Emperor bids Ying-meimei come in.” Qu Ning’s voice stayed gentle and soft-spoken as ever.
Zhao Ningying inclined her head and entered the Imperial Study.
Qu Sheng ran through the remaining business, then vested the military command of Jiangkou Great Camp entirely in Zhao Ningying’s hands. The tuntian2 undertaking she entrusted to Qiao Jin, while Qu Ning was made Director over the tuntian affairs—holding not only the power of inspection over the colonies but the right to move troops as well.
The others each received their separate duties, but all of them revolved around the tuntian work.
One by one they accepted the imperial edict and passed out through the Imperial Study door.
All had already bidden their families farewell that morning. Palace attendants held umbrellas over them and saw them beyond the palace walls.
Lin Xizhao sat upon the tower above the palace gate, watching the band of young juniors steady one another and courteously yield their turns boarding the carriages. She glanced sideways at Xiao Bingying, a sword slung at her waist, and said, brows curving, “The children are grown. Sooner or later they must venture out to make their way—see something of the world out there.”
Xiao Bingying turned to look at her. “I know. I just… I just can’t quite bear to part with Ying’er.”
Lin Xizhao could offer no further consolation. She knew the ache of a mother’s longing herself—Qu Ning had only lately returned. Better, this once, to simply look at them a while longer.
Inside the carriage, everyone settled into place. Qiao Jin broke open the sealed letters at hand, checking over the items required for taking up her post. Qu Ning watched for a time, then—without quite meaning to—let her gaze drift to Zhao Ningying at her side.
Zhao Ningying, for her part, was studying the documents in Qiao Jin’s hands—full particulars of garrison farmland and troop dispositions across the regions. Qiao Jin passed a name list to Zhao Ningying. “The commanders of each division are on here. Have a look, Ying-meimei.”
“All right.” Zhao Ningying took it. As she bent to read, she became aware of Qu Ning’s gaze. She turned her head and asked with a smile, “Does Ning-jiejie want a look as well?”
Light stirred in Qu Ning’s eyes. She gave a low, slightly awkward “Ah,” then said, “You read it.”
Zhao Ningying laughed softly and held the list up before Qu Ning. “Let’s read it together.” And having passed it over, she shifted herself closer to Qu Ning’s side.
Only moments ago, Qu Ning had been tying herself into a hundred gloomy knots over Zhao Ningying’s coolness toward her that day; now, over one small gesture, every last knot in her heart simply melted loose.
She and Zhao Ningying read through the roster together. Beside them, Qiao Jin finished verifying that all was in order—and, looking up to find the two heads bent remarkably close together, suddenly felt the spacious carriage grow rather crowded.
Qiao Jin lifted the carriage curtain and glanced out. Watching the fine rain come down, she too was loath to leave her wife and daughter behind.
The carriage was soon beyond the city walls, and the soldiers traveling in plain clothes to guard them all followed after.
The sky darkened by degrees. No one could say where, on an early-spring day, such a monstrous rain had come from.
By midday the going was too rough, and Qu Ning sent men to search out an inn for the night.
“This rain won’t let up for a while yet. Find some roadside inn to shelter in—we’ll press on tomorrow.”
At the order, the soldiers in straw rain capes3 immediately had the carriages turned about and picked their way along a narrow side path. Before long they caught sight of a roadside inn still open for business.
A plainclothes soldier went in with Feng Miao—Feng Qi’s son—to secure the inn’s rooms, but the moment they stepped inside, they saw that something was off.
Several burly men stood at daggers drawn, barring the way of anyone trying to leave.
“Until we find what’s ours today, no one leaves!”
Feng Miao stood at the counter, sized the scene up, and asked the innkeeper, puzzled, “Who are these people?”
The innkeeper pocketed Feng Miao’s silver. “Jufeng Escort Agency4. Lost a shipment, and they’re raging over it in there.”
Feng Miao gave them a glance, entirely unconcerned, and made to head back out—but he had barely reached the door when that same man thrust out an arm to bar his way.
“I told you—before we’ve found our goods, no one goes out!”
“Are you blind? This great one only just walked in—what could I possibly have lifted off you?” Feng Miao’s hot temper flared on the spot.
Just then Qu Ning and the others were climbing down from their carriages; they had barely reached the entrance of the main hall when Feng Miao’s impatience reached their ears.
“What’s going on here?” Qiao Jin asked quickly, alarmed.
With Qu Ning’s status, not the slightest mishap could be permitted.
Feng Miao looked out toward the entrance and called back over his shoulder, “This fellow lost something and won’t let anyone leave.”
Qu Ning shot the man a glance, her gaze cold-edged and sharp.
“If you’ve lost something, report it to the officials. How can you behave so unreasonably?” Qiao Jin rebuked.
“It’s those merchants who roasted meat for Mu-jiejie and the others outside the city that day,” Zhao Ningying reminded her quietly at Qu Ning’s ear.
At that, Qu Ning looked at the man before her—she truly did not know him—but several of the men within she had indeed crossed paths with once before.
Qu Ning’s eyes swept the hall. Dim and dreary as the room was, hard to see into, her own eyes were unnaturally bright.
“Halt!”
Qu Ning’s cry stopped two figures muffled to the eyes in cloaks and poised to slip upstairs—and startled the whole hall for an instant. The burly men drew out their sabers and swords.
The author has something to say:
Qu Ning: “The road to chasing one’s wife is long, long indeed.”
Footnotes
- 拱手行礼 | gōngshǒu xínglǐ | A traditional Chinese salute of respect: folding one palm over the other fist before the chest with a slight bow, used in greetings and formal courtesy.
- 屯田 | túntián | 'Military-agricultural colonization': a state policy dating to the Han and Wei dynasties, in which soldiers farmed garrison land so that armies could feed themselves.
- 蓑衣 | suōyī | A traditional Chinese rain cape woven from straw or palm bark, worn over the shoulders by farmers, fishermen, and travelers in wet weather.
- 镖局 | biāojú | An armed escort company of imperial China that safeguarded silver, goods, and travelers along dangerous trade routes, staffed by hired martial artists.
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