Your Majesty is Poisonous – Chapter 150
by Little PandaFinal Chapter (Part 2)
Over a month had passed, and the Mid-Autumn Festival was fast approaching.
The hostas and begonias in the back garden were in full bloom. Yao Xi had gone out early that morning to pick some begonias for a vase, set them on the desk in the study, and laid out paper and ground her ink, preparing to paint. Thanks to Her Highness’s guidance these past days, her calligraphy and painting had improved greatly, and Shuanglan-jiejie came often to teach her needlework and embroidery. Gradually, she actually began to take on the air of a lady of a prominent family.
At least, that was how she appeared.
Wan Bi leaned back in her chair, toying with the embroidered handkerchief Yao Xi had made for her, and said listlessly, “Xi-wench. This bereaved one1 heard from His Majesty yesterday that your parents will arrive in the capital in a few days.” Once Yao Xi’s parents arrived, she would certainly need to stay at home for a while. No matter how miserable and reluctant she felt, she couldn’t stand in the way.
“Mm-hm.” Yao Xi’s brush tip paused. She said with mixed feelings, “When jiejie came by this morning, we were just discussing whether to leave the palace early and get the house ready.” After the Third Princess affair, she hadn’t entertained the thought of leaving the palace again, devoting herself entirely to staying by Her Highness’s side. When her sister Shuanglan came to talk with her, she’d cling to her and refuse to let the Empress Dowager leave, sticking to Her Highness almost from dawn to dusk.
The two of them had been together day and night for so long that one would expect them to grow tired of each other. Yet she and the Empress Dowager not only didn’t find it tiresome — they’d grown increasingly inseparable instead.
But parting was near at hand. Even knowing it was temporary, she still felt awful about it.
Wan Bi lowered her gaze, quietly sorrowful for a moment, then looked up and smiled at Yao Xi. “Of course you should. We can’t have your parents stay at an inn when they arrive, can we?”
“By the time we get the house ready, they should be here,” Yao Xi said, lowering her head and speaking softly. “I probably won’t be able to return to the palace until after the Mid-Autumn Festival. Jiejie says many elders from the clan will be coming — first, to host a welcome feast for our parents, and second, to take me to the ancestral hall to kneel before the Yao family’s ancestors.”
“The ancestral hall?” The expression on Wan Bi’s face shifted from sorrow to surprise. In the Daxing dynasty, ancient rites were revered, and unmarried women would eventually take their husband’s surname — they were not permitted to enter the ancestral hall.
Yao Xi nodded. “I was just as surprised as Your Highness when I first heard. Jiejie said that the women of the Yao family used to be barred from the ancestral hall too, but later Father spoke with the clan head, saying that kneeling before our ancestors is filial piety, and filial piety knows no gender. Only then did the clan head reluctantly agree.” Back in the Sun family, Sun Ergou hadn’t allowed her into the ancestral hall, and the neighbors were all the same — daughters were treated as if they’d been picked up off the street.
Hearing this, Wan Bi couldn’t help but regard Yao Hezheng a bit more highly. Most of those scholar-officials were pedantic sorts; she’d seen plenty of them. She hadn’t expected that Yao Hezheng was not only upright in character, but, rare among them, treated his sons and daughters equally. “Paying respects to our ancestors is an important matter. Go with peace of mind, and don’t rush back to the palace.”
“…Mm-hm.” Yao Xi sat back down in her chair, tore off the page in front of her with its newly painted begonia branch, laid out a fresh sheet of paper, and said to Her Highness, “Your Highness, watch me.”
Wan Bi said with a soft laugh, “Haven’t I been watching you this whole time? What is it — are you going to paint this bereaved one?”
Yao Xi picked up her brush and nodded, her voice catching. “Yes. When I miss Your Highness, at least I can look at it.”
Wan Bi’s eyes reddened too. She stood and said to Yao Xi, “Wait a moment. This bereaved one will go back to the bedchamber and freshen up first.” Along with being touched, she was mostly worried. Though Yao Xi’s painting skills had improved greatly — she wouldn’t paint her as a demon or ghost anymore — they were still very limited.
This painting took two shichen2. Wan Bi’s back was nearly broken from sitting, and Yao Xi was still hunched over the desk working.
“Are you done?” Wan Bi was running out of patience.
Yao Xi straightened up and rubbed her lower back, then said hesitantly, “Done… I think.” Without a shred of confidence in her voice.
Wan Bi guessed it probably hadn’t turned out well. But she’d been mentally prepared — the girl’s intentions were good, and she absolutely had to be supportive!
“Let this bereaved one have a look.” Wan Bi rose with relief, walked to the desk, and carefully picked up the still-wet painting. She’d been wrong — she’d overestimated Yao Xi. Love might have clouded her judgment, but it hadn’t blinded her eyes.
She wasn’t blind!
“How wonderful. It’s so much better than last time,” Wan Bi said sincerely. It really was much better than last time — last time had been so ugly it didn’t even look human. This time, at least you could tell it was a portrait of a woman. Though not beautiful at all! Even rather ugly!!
If Yao Xi looked at this portrait whenever she missed her, she might end up not wanting to come back to the palace.
“These past few days, painting flowers and plants was going fine. I don’t know why, but when it comes to portraits, it’s the same as always,” Yao Xi said dejectedly. When painting flowers, a crooked branch was no big deal, and petals being slightly large or small didn’t matter. But portraits were different — a nose slightly off, eyes a bit too small, a mouth a little crooked, and the difference was enormous.
Learning to paint was no overnight feat. Wan Bi didn’t expect Yao Xi to paint brilliantly either. She smiled, rolled up the painting, and said, “This painting, this bereaved one will keep safe. The one to take out of the palace — this bereaved one will paint it while looking in a mirror and give it to you. The painting is by this bereaved one, and the person in the painting is also this bereaved one. Wouldn’t it be better to carry it with you, so seeing it brings this bereaved one to mind?”
“Your Highness is so good.” Yao Xi threw herself into the Empress Dowager’s arms and said coquettishly.
The day for the sisters to leave the palace and return to the Yao Residence arrived in a flash.
Outside the main hall, over a dozen trunks were arranged on the open ground, filled with food, clothing, and daily necessities. Liufang Gugu3 stood waiting by the trunks with over twenty maids and eunuchs — they had been dispatched by imperial decree of the Empress Dowager to serve Yao Xi at the Yao Residence.
Wan Bi led Yao Xi to the entrance of the main hall, reluctant to push the doors open.
She couldn’t bear it. She had never been apart from Yao Xi for this long.
“Your Highness. I should—” Yao Xi reached out and just touched the door when the Empress Dowager suddenly pulled her into an embrace and leaned down to kiss her.
Wan Bi held her tightly and kissed her hard, as if letting go would mean losing Yao Xi forever.
“Promise this bereaved one — you’ll come back after the Mid-Autumn Festival!” Wan Bi gently stroked Yao Xi’s slightly swollen lips and urged.
Tears glistening in her eyes, Yao Xi said, “Mm-hm. Jiejie must have everything ready and be waiting for me. Your Highness, don’t be sad. I’ll be back in ten days at most.” She told Her Highness not to be sad, but ended up crying first herself.
“Silly wench, don’t cry.” Wan Bi pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away Yao Xi’s tears, holding back her reluctance as she urged, “Go. When you miss this bereaved one, take out the painting and look at it.”
Yao Shuanglan and Longyi’s parting was not as difficult. They’d been through so many separations and reunions over such a long time that they were used to it, and neither was the passionately clingy type.
“Will you still come back?” Longyi’s unhappiness was written all over her face.
She wasn’t afraid of a brief separation, but feared this parting might be forever. Yao Xi had been promoted to Palace Female Official and would certainly return to the palace to serve the Empress Dowager. Yao Xian was still missing. That left Shuanglan as the only one who could stay and care for their aging parents.
“Yes. I also need to bring Shuangzhu back,” Yao Shuanglan said in a low voice. She knew what Longyi was worried about, but between her aging parents and Longyi, she truly would choose her parents. Though it wouldn’t come to another separation, daily companionship as they had in the palace would be hard to sustain.
“And after you bring her back to the palace?” Longyi asked again.
Yao Shuanglan lowered her head and said nothing.
“Fine. Then I’ll move in next door to your house, and we can care for your parents together.” Longyi asked Shuanglan, somewhat upset, “Tell me honestly — just now, did you think about leaving me again?”
“No. I was just thinking that we might not be able to see each other as often from now on.” Yao Shuanglan gazed quietly at Longyi and said softly, “How could I ever leave you?” She saw people approaching from across the stream and quickly squeezed Longyi’s hand. “I should go back now. If it’s convenient for you to move here, then move; otherwise, I’ll just visit your fief often.”
“All right. Take it slow on the road. If you need anything at home, just send someone to tell me.” Longyi helped Yao Shuanglan into the horse carriage. They had packed their luggage long ago; they could leave as soon as they were in the carriage.
The horse carriage stopped before an old estate’s gate. The paint on the doors was peeling, the stone steps were slightly worn concave from the passage of time, and the guardian stone lions were covered in moss. Everything carried a sense of aged history, save only the plaque bearing the characters “Yao Residence,” which was brand new.
Yao Xi stepped down from the horse carriage, supported by Liufang Gugu. She walked to Yao Shuanglan’s carriage and waited respectfully for her sister to alight. Seeing Yao Shuanglan lift the curtain, Yao Xi quickly offered her hand. “Jiejie, careful.”
“You’re now First Rank Palace Female Official; I should be the one serving you,” Yao Shuanglan said with a smile, taking Yao Xi’s hand and stepping down nimbly.
Yao Xi said with a smile, “Palace rules are palace rules. At home, you’re jiejie and I’m meimei.”
A group of people was already waiting outside the Yao Residence.
Yao Shuanglan walked to the gate and bowed to the young man standing at the front. “This commoner girl greets the Heir.” If it weren’t for Feng Ning, Prince Kang’s Heir, helping to maintain the Yao family’s ancestral home, it probably wouldn’t exist anymore.
Feng Ning returned the gesture with a clasped-fist salute and said, “Shijie4, there’s no need for such formality.” He then smiled and looked at Yao Xi beside Shuanglan. “How should I address this young lady? Should I call you Palace Female Official Yao, or Young Master Wan?”
Yao Shuanglan looked at Yao Xi in confusion. Yao Xi had been watching from the side and thought the Heir looked familiar — it turned out to be the young master who always went to the teahouse to hear her storytelling. The capital really was small. Yao Xi leaned close to her jiejie’s ear and briefly explained the origin of the “Young Master Wan” name.
“This is my younger sister. If the Heir doesn’t mind, you can simply call her shimei5,” Yao Shuanglan said with a smile.
“This humble one is Feng Ning. Greetings, Xiao-shimei.” Feng Ning’s face revealed nothing, but inwardly he was already buzzing with questions. His shijie Shuanglan had entered the palace as a Noble Lady and been promoted to Jieyu, only to be suddenly deposed and expelled. He’d heard about Eunuch Yao early on — who knew it had become Miss Yao, and now his own xiao-shimei. What on earth had happened?
He couldn’t very well ask. Instead, he gestured to the people behind him and said to Yao Shuanglan, “I’ve called back all the servants your father dismissed, and I haven’t changed much in the house. Though last year a strong wind collapsed a room, and I took it upon myself to rebuild it.”
Yao Shuanglan was beyond grateful. For Feng Ning to leave the comfortable Prince Kang’s residence and move here was solely to look after their Yao family’s ancestral home.
“Second Young Lady.” The servants bowed to Yao Shuanglan, then greeted Yao Xi: “Third Young Lady.”
Yao Shuanglan looked at these familiar faces and couldn’t hold back her tears. As if nothing had ever happened to the Yao family, as if no one had ever left. She took Yao Xi’s hand and asked gently, “Have you remembered anything?”
Yao Xi nodded and said, “I fell on these stone steps when I was little. I think it was this granny who helped me up.” She’d later had many dreams, each one clearer than the last. Gradually, Sun Xibao’s memories had merged with hers — both the Yao family’s and the Sun family’s. Xibao’s father and mother had treated Xibao very well; when she had time, she needed to visit their graves, kowtow, and burn incense to repay their kindness in raising Xibao on Xibao’s behalf.
“You even scraped your nose,” the old granny Yao Xi had pointed at said, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “To think the Third Young Lady grew up safe and sound, and still remembers this old woman.” Over ten years ago, they’d thought the Third Young Lady Shuangzhu had been killed by that wretched servant in the household.
Yao Shuanglan held Yao Xi’s hand tighter and said to everyone, her voice trembling, “Let’s go inside and talk. It’s not good standing out here.”
These days, Wan Bi often spent time with Longyi. The two sat in the courtyard, drinking and gazing leisurely toward the Yao Residence.
Wan Bi used to despise Longyi for drowning her sorrows in wine, never expecting that she herself would sink to the same state. She ate hairy crabs and drank, and in no time near half a flagon of wine was gone. Her voice began to drift. “How many days since they left?”
“Four days.” Longyi reflexively refilled Wan Bi’s empty cup, while advising, “Your Highness, drink just a little.”
“Only four days!” Wan Bi said in disappointment, downing another cup. “Why don’t we go out of the palace and see them?”
“We can’t. Uncle Yao and Aunt Yao have already arrived in the capital. They’re busy hosting a welcome feast and performing ancestral rites — if we go, won’t we just be getting in the way?” Longyi said, peeling crab legs. “Once the Mid-Autumn family banquet is over, they’ll be back. What’s Your Highness rushing for?” She had already bought the house across the street from the Yao Residence, but wasn’t in a hurry to move. The street was so narrow that if she moved, there’d be no room for the Yao family’s visitors to pass.
Mid-Autumn? Wan Bi counted on her fingers. It was still five days until the Mid-Autumn Festival! But she was already at her limit.
Footnotes
- A literal self-referential used by an empress dowager, meaning 'this bereaved one' — reflecting her widowed status as a formal mode of self-address.
- A traditional Chinese time unit equal to two hours.
- A respectful title for a senior palace maid.
- 'Senior martial sister' — a pinyin term for a female fellow student who entered under the same master at an earlier time.
- 'Junior martial sister' — a pinyin term for a female fellow student who entered under the same master at a later time.
0 Comments