The Sovereign – Chapter 74

Volume Four: Opulent Splendor Like a Dream, Waters Flow East

Deep Love, Short Life

After death, becoming smoke to accompany you

In front of the cenotaph, wine bottles scattered on the ground, willows and bamboos quietly accompanied, helplessly looking at Qingyu. She was already slightly drunk, the alcohol taking effect, yet she became increasingly clear-headed. Her waist-length hair danced freely in the wind as Qingyu took out an exquisite dagger from her waist, stroking her hair and cutting off a small lock.

She gently twirled it in her fingertips, wrapping it with a red string into a knot, then opened up the layers of soil on the cenotaph. A delicate wooden box came into view. Inside was Liu Zhu’s favorite set of clothes when she was alive, as well as a pair of green jade flutes that Qingyu had given her, engraved with Qingyu’s name.

“People often speak of the deep bond between a married couple who have grown old together. Unable to tie our hair together in life, I will stay with you forever after death. Now nothing can separate us.” Qingyu spoke softly to Liu Zhu. Fearing her loneliness, she would come here every day to talk to her, reminiscing about the past. She could hardly hide her smile, and only at such moments would Qingyu smile continuously.

Every year this month, she would cut a lock of hair to accompany her. Qingyu seemed to forget there was another person present; she was facing the cenotaph, unaware that the person she longed for was right before her eyes.

She picked up the green jade flute. The name of this flute was chosen by Liu Zhu, homophonous with Qingyu’s name, making her cherish it dearly. She used to love playing tunes on it. Popular folk songs like 《Song of the Azure Sky and Empty Court》 (碧落空庭曲, Bi Luo Kong Ting Qu), 《Feather’s Will Ascends to the Blue Sky》 (羽意上青天, Yu Yi Shang Qing Tian), and 《Drunk and Carefree》 (醉逍遙, Zui Xiao Yao) were all composed by Liu Zhu, though few knew she was a master of lyrics and melodies.

She was the most talented woman in the world, the gentlest and most graceful, the woman Qingyu wanted to protect for a lifetime. But fate played tricks on them, separating them between life and death. Their meeting had ruined her life; otherwise, she would still be the praised female music master of the Yu Kingdom, not persecuted by the Empress Dowager for falling in love with her.

“Your melodies are like high mountains and flowing water (高山流水, gao shan liu shui, an idiom describing beautiful music and close friendship). I know all your feelings for me are buried in those lyrics and melodies. But your Ah Yu only knows how to wield spears and swords, unable to play those profound tunes. Yet my Zhu’er never looked down on me. Which one should I play today?” Qingyu said as she raised her hand to pick up the jade flute, a faint smile on her face.

Liu Zhu, standing nearby, felt a pain in her chest that made it hard to breathe. This time it wasn’t an attack, but a pain as if thousands of ants were gnawing at her internal organs. Every breath she took pulled at her heart, making her chest heave. A sweet and bloody taste rose in her throat, and she covered her mouth to stifle a sob, trying to suppress the discomfort.

Qingyu held the flute, gently waving it and tucking it in the crook of her arm, her delicate jade-like hands lightly caressing it. The flute’s body was like bamboo, its color like jade, its sound melodious. She used to love listening to Liu Zhu play and blow tunes. Now she had learned how to play herself, but Liu Zhu could no longer hear it.

“Qingyu, why don’t you play 《Clear Clothes Spring》 (清衣源, Qing Yi Yuan)? This tune is well-known outside and quite favored by the talented young men of great families,” Liu Zhu said, her voice strained.

Qingyu raised her head slightly, her eyes reddened, lips trembling, and furrowed brows gradually relaxing. A hint of surprise and wonder appeared in her eyes. “You know 《Clear Clothes Spring》? Can you play it?”

“A little,” Liu Zhu replied, her fingertips constantly rubbing her palms, feeling the turmoil in her chest as she struggled to suppress the discomfort.

“Then… 《Clear Clothes Spring》, you play it,” Qingyu handed the flute to her. Liu Zhu’s eyes brightened, and she hesitated for a moment before raising her hand. Qingyu placed the flute in her palm, and she instinctively grasped it.

《Clear Clothes Spring》 was the last tune Liu Zhu composed when she was alive, created for Qingyu. The melody was gentle and lively, with undertones of enduring love. Liu Zhu lovingly caressed the flute, her thoughts flowing like water.

“Then I’ll humbly play,” she said, placing her pale thin lips against the mouthpiece, arms slightly forward, holding the flute with both hands, fingers naturally curved.

The sound of the flute, with its long history, began to play. The rhythm was well-paced, and memories flashed through her mind. Qingyu sat down in front of the cenotaph, her long hair trailing to the ground, gently rising. She reached out to embrace the tablet engraved with Liu Zhu’s name, leaning against it, her fingertips lightly tracing the blood-carved characters, her mood sinking to the depths.

For so many years, she could only embrace Liu Zhu’s tablet at the cenotaph, her only thought, her only comfort being the familiarity brought by the name “Liu Zhu”. She had isolated herself from the world, sealing off her heart, thinking there would be no more ripples, but after so many years, she still couldn’t let go. Every month on this day, she was in unbearable pain. She often thought of taking her own life, but couldn’t bear to leave Yun Jin and her child behind.

“Zhu’er, I’m holding you, you won’t be afraid anymore~” Qingyu’s gaze was unfocused, her eyes full of sorrow. The cold wooden tablet in her arms had no warmth at all. But even so, she liked to press her face against the characters “Liu Zhu” on the tablet, making her feel as if she was pressing against her Zhu’er.

Seeing Qingyu’s deep love and pain, two lines of hot tears rolled down Liu Zhu’s cheeks, slowly flowing down her white jade mask. The fingers supporting the flute trembled slightly, a trace of blood appeared at the corners of her mouth where tears had passed, but it didn’t affect the beautiful melody. Only the tune suddenly became sorrowful. The wind in the forest stirred up the leaves, falling onto Liu Zhu’s shoulders. She stood motionless, her fingers gradually weakening, but blood continued to flow from her mouth, staining the jade-green flute red. Yet she still didn’t stop playing.

Because this was Qingyu’s favorite tune, she wanted to play it in its entirety for her to hear.

Qingyu, immersed in her own grief, didn’t notice Liu Zhu’s abnormality. She closed her eyes slightly, falling into memories. Every day, her mind replayed scenes of their time together. As she grew older, the Liu Zhu in her memories became clearer and clearer. Forever staying in the year they parted, she had aged, but if Zhu’er were still alive, would she still be that pure and perfect, beautiful as if untouched by a speck of worldly dust?

“Huff~” A muffled groan was heard, and Qingyu suddenly opened her eyes, turning to see Liu Zhu spitting blood, the jade flute now a bright red. She quickly got up to support her, pressing her fingers together on the Feng Men acupoint (located on the upper back), holding up her weakened body, and anxiously asked, “Ah Ying, how are you?”

“Cough cough~ cough cough cough cough~~” Blood remained on Liu Zhu’s lips, her mouth a red haze, but she still gripped the flute tightly, struggling to raise her hand, choking out: “I’m sorry…. I’ve dirtied…. your flute…”

“Don’t speak!” Qingyu’s brows furrowed involuntarily, her voice rising with urgency as she put the flute aside and used her sleeve to wipe the blood from Liu Zhu’s hands.

“Qingyu~~” Liu Zhu still insisted on calling her name.

“I’m here, I won’t leave, don’t speak anymore.” Qingyu cupped her face, wiping away the blood from the corners of her mouth, her heart churning, feeling an inexplicable pang of heartache. Liu Zhu was so thin, afraid to hold her too tightly for fear of hurting her, yet afraid to let go for fear of losing her. How could someone be so frail?

Qingyu took her pulse, her brows furrowing into a ‘chuan’ (川) shape. The pulse was weak, the internal energy chaotic. She hadn’t realized Liu Zhu’s lung disease had progressed to this stage. All five organs were damaged; she might suddenly collapse any day, never to wake again.

“Actually, I won’t live for two more years, will I?” Liu Zhu knew her own body; she knew it was more serious than Qingyu had said.

Qingyu remained silent, feeling an uncontrollable sadness. She didn’t know why she was having these emotions towards her. She resisted these extra feelings, and also hated herself for developing strange emotions for someone other than Liu Zhu.

Liu Zhu leaned in Qingyu’s arms, looking up to see Qingyu’s face. Though in her forties, she was still so beautiful. Time had never changed her; instead, it had given her a more reserved beauty. Liu Zhu couldn’t help wanting to touch her face, but in the end, she only moved her fingers slightly, powerlessly lying in her arms. “Qingyu, can you not tell Xun’er?”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll take you to see Guiguzi,” Qingyu’s voice was a bit heavy.

“No~ You’ve already received Guiguzi’s true teachings. If you’re at a loss, even Guiguzi himself probably could only extend my life by a year,” Liu Zhu spoke calmly, looking at Qingyu’s blood-stained hands. She gently grasped them, trying to wipe them clean with her fingertips.

“Don’t wipe it~” Qingyu shook her hand away, causing a pang in Liu Zhu’s heart. She thought Qingyu was again repulsed by her physical contact. She slowly got up, but was pulled back by Qingyu and held in her arms. “Don’t move, let me hold you for a while.”

For reasons unclear, Qingyu wanted to hold her close. Fate had given her so much torment, making Qingyu feel she was so pitiful at this moment. Liu Zhu rested her head on Qingyu’s wrist, tightly hugging her. Just for a moment, just a little while, let her indulge in Qingyu’s embrace one more time, let her hope one last time before death. Even if this moment was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.

“Qingyu~ your embrace is so warm. I’ve been very happy in this life. If I die in the loquat forest, can you bury me here?” She wanted to die in the loquat forest, she wanted to truly accompany Qingyu. After death, she would turn into a wisp of smoke floating in the loquat forest. If humans really have souls, perhaps she could still come back every day to see her.

“You should return to your roots, not be buried here,” Qingyu’s voice became low, a strong sense of suppression overwhelming her heart.

“I have no place to return to. This is my root.”

Wherever Qingyu was, that was her home.

Qingyu helped her stand up, smiling gently, a hint of freedom amidst the bitterness. She guided Liu Zhu to a tree, letting her lean against it. She rearranged the cenotaph, no longer speaking.

“Qingyu?” Liu Zhu didn’t understand her intentions. Qingyu stood with her hands behind her back, gazing at the thicket behind the cenotaph. She suddenly turned around, hanging a helpless smile, “If you want to be buried in the loquat forest, you’ll have to prepare your own coffin.” With that, she lightly waved her sleeve, her internal energy stirring up a strong wind, causing the thicket behind the cenotaph to suddenly loosen.

A wooden coffin came into view. Liu Zhu stood up in terror, moving forward with difficulty. The coffin looked newly made, but the wood had already started to yellow, seeming to have been there for some years. Liu Zhu’s heart trembled slightly, shaking her head repeatedly, wanting to avoid all this, not wanting to believe it was real.

“Qingyu~ No~~” Liu Zhu cried out this phrase over and over in her heart. She didn’t want Qingyu to do anything foolish; she wanted her to live on well!

“The day Jin’er got married, I made this coffin. I was afraid she’d be lonely, wanted to go keep her company. But later, Jin’er became pregnant with Guo’er. She was alone in the palace; what if someone bullied her? What if Guo’er suffered grievances?” As Qingyu spoke, she kept stroking the coffin, as if confiding, or muttering to herself. “Look, the wood of the coffin has already air-dried, and I still haven’t gone to the underworld.”

“Qingyu… you can’t do this…. you mustn’t….” Liu Zhu’s legs trembled as she moved towards her. Qingyu’s face was calm and indifferent. “What joy is there in life, what fear in death? I only fear that when I see her, she’ll ask why I didn’t take good care of Jin’er? Leaving her alone in that cold palace. I know the Empress Dowager treats her very well, but… isn’t it ironic? The Empress Dowager killed Zhu’er, yet she dotes on Jin’er like her own child.”

“Yes, she will blame you, she will definitely blame you~” Liu Zhu’s tone was a bit hurried. Qingyu looked at her and smiled lightly, “She won’t blame me. My Zhu’er is the gentlest woman in the world. She wouldn’t bear to… I can’t bear to part with her even more…..”

Liu Zhu burst into tears, rushing forward to hug her, tightly grasping the hem of her clothes. “Qingyu, don’t do anything foolish, okay? Please don’t….”

Beneath her brown eyes lay the traces of time. Liu Zhu’s tears fell like rain, sliding over the blood stains at the corners of her lips, piercing Qingyu’s heart with pain. She reached out her hand, touching her face, but was blocked by the cold mask. She spread her fingers; with just a little force, Liu Zhu’s mask would come off.

“You…..” Just as Qingyu was about to lift her mask to see, she suddenly sensed someone approaching the loquat forest. She turned her head towards the depths of the forest. “Someone’s entering the loquat forest. It might be Jin’er. Stay here, don’t move.” With that, she stepped lightly, her body as light as a swallow, flying up to the branches and floating towards the entrance of the loquat forest.

“Jin’er is here, Jin’er….”

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