Chapter 23: The Past—A Beauty's Calamity (Part Three)

“Chuxiu, I am leaving.”

These seven words struck like thunder on a clear day, leaving Han Chu in utter disbelief. Her mind went blank in an instant.

Beyond that, it seemed Yun Ci said more.

He said, “Thank you for your care these last three months.”

He said, “Before I leave, I’ll find a way to settle you well.”

He said, “It’s only a pity that your throat ailment shows no sign of improvement.”

…

Yet all that Yun Ci said afterward failed to reach Han Chu’s ears. Her heart grew empty, not with sorrow, not with anger, nor with resentment, but with an inexplicable, silent void.

She had always known this day would eventually arrive—it was agreed upon from the start, three months only. Still, to have Yun Ci raise it so suddenly made the parting feel abrupt and unprepared.

She had not even readied herself to leave the Eastern Courtyard. If it were possible, she would wish never to return to the Western Courtyard, never to face Shen Yu’s erratic moods, never to endure Chacha’s scheming and humiliation, and never to confront the uncertain days ahead.

But she could do nothing, nor could she stop it. What’s more, Yun Ci’s reason for leaving was, in some way, connected to her. In truth, gratitude was all she could feel; she ought to face this kindness and farewell with a smile.

Thinking thus, Han Chu gathered herself, replacing her gloom with a faint smile, and bowed to Yun Ci in thanks.

Yun Ci gazed at the flower-like smile, tinged with sadness, and fell silent. After a long moment, he asked, “Will you stay by Zifeng’s side in the future?”

Where else could she go if not with Shen Yu? Even if he were willing to let her go, now that she had offended the Ming household, she had nowhere to turn. Han Chu pressed her lips together, silently acquiescing to Yun Ci’s question.

Yun Ci sighed softly. “Zifeng is good in many ways, but…” He left the thought unfinished.

The two lapsed into silence.

Han Chu could not help but recall the day she first came to the Eastern Courtyard, when Yun Ci named her “Chuxiu.” Then, too, they had fallen into silence, but it had been a silence of tacit understanding, all for those three words: “My surname is Yun.”

Today, again, they were silent—this time for another set of three words: “But only so.”

The same two people, the same place, the same three words, and yet their hearts were so different. Once at the beginning, now at the end—a bitter irony, a kind of symmetry.

Han Chu gently mocked herself for the thought, then finally summoned the courage to break the somber air. She took brush, ink, and paper from the desk and wrote her farewell: “Your kindness, I shall remember forever.”

Yun Ci, seeing the words on the page, his gaze darkened for a fleeting moment, and he said, “You are the only student I have ever taken.”

Han Chu forced another smile and bowed her head.

After that, silence enveloped the study, as if a thorn had lodged in both their hearts, piercing a hole through the bond of the past three months. A cold wind swept through, stinging and merciless, impossible to voice…

Of all sadness in the world, none compares to parting.

*****

Yun Ci had expected the Ming household to return, but not so soon.

Just after the afternoon had begun, the head of the Ming household—Ming Cheng, the Right Minister of the court and the Empress’s own brother—personally sent his card, bringing with him his second son, Ming Cui, to pay respects at Zhuihong Courtyard.

Ming Cheng, nearly fifty, bore a shrewd face. He navigated the court of Nanxi with ease, and as the Empress’s elder brother, it was no exaggeration to call him “second only to one, above all others.” Yet at this moment, such a man appeared anxious and uneasy.

Ming Cui, the legitimate second son of the household, was usually arrogant and willful, but knew when to flatter and when to tread carefully. After his rebuff at Zhuihong Courtyard at noon, he returned home and recounted everything to his father.

He told him how his sister, Ming Ying, had bullied a courtesan; how, after learning of Han Chu’s death, she grew suspicious; how, after hearing some rumors, she urged him to investigate Zhuihong Courtyard.

Ming Cheng broke out in a cold sweat upon hearing this and harshly rebuked his son. He knew that if the person Ming Cui described was truly as ethereal as he claimed, it could only be the heir to Marquis Lixin.

Across the two countries, North and South, excepting the royal family, no other marquis could be called “Your Highness.” Yet this heir was deservedly addressed so, making him, after the Emperor himself, the one Ming Cheng feared offending most.

With this in mind, Ming Cheng disregarded all pride, bringing his son to make amends in person, hoping to resolve the matter.

Yun Ci accepted the visiting card and received them in the Eastern Courtyard study, with Han Chu in attendance.

“My son was blind and reckless, offending His Highness. I have come to offer my humble apologies and beg your forgiveness.”

At these words, Yun Ci showed little reaction, but Han Chu was stunned. Was Young Master Yun’s status truly so exalted? She did not know whether to feel fortunate or sorrowful, whether to laugh or cry.

At this moment, Yun Ci sat upright on a centuries-old agarwood chair, half his figure veiled behind the desk, his demeanor stern and aloof—nothing like the man Han Chu was used to seeing.

Yun Ci looked at the anxious Ming father and son, his right index finger tapping the desk, making no immediate reply. After a long while, he gave a soft laugh and said, “Lord Ming, you honor me with your visit, yet I have not offered you tea. What an oversight.”

With that, he glanced toward Han Chu and instructed softly, “Chuxiu, serve the tea.”

Han Chu did not dare tarry and hurried out to prepare it.

Once Han Chu had left the chamber, Yun Ci continued, “I wonder, what could be so serious as to require Lord Ming to visit in person? Surely it’s been nothing but a misunderstanding.”

Ming Cheng grew even more anxious. In his eyes, had Yun Ci lost his temper, he would be easier to placate. Instead, the courteous treatment, tinged with deliberate severity and distance, was all the more troubling.

Whenever he recalled his son’s report—“If he refuses, then tomorrow we’ll petition the Emperor for her”—Ming Cheng could not stop cold sweat from breaking out.

She was but a courtesan. Could it be that the notoriously abstinent Heir of Marquis Lixin had been moved by the famed beauty of Nanxi?

But such speculation was dangerous, so Ming Cheng did not dwell on it, only bowing again: “I have failed in raising my son properly. I am deeply ashamed.”

Yun Ci still smiled faintly. “I heard your household lost a maid—remarkably beautiful and skilled in music. But why, I wonder, did your second son search for her here at Zhuihong Courtyard? This is, after all, Lord Shen’s private residence.”

“Er… I…” Ming Cheng tried to explain.

“Lord Ming,” Yun Ci cut him off, “let your son answer instead.”

His tone was blunt, and Ming Cheng could only fall silent.

Ming Cui already regretted everything. He stepped forward, forcing a smile: “It was all a misunderstanding, truly. Had I known Your Highness was here, I would never have—”

“Oh? So the Marquis of Wenchang’s residence is open to all sorts of trespass?” Yun Ci interrupted coldly.

Ming Cui shivered under the question, quickly explaining, “No, certainly not. I have always been on good terms with Lord Shen and would never be so rude. I had drunk a little too much today, and was egged on by ill company. That is why I acted so foolishly…”

He was nearly incoherent now. “Tomorrow, I will go to the Marquis of Wenchang’s residence and apologize.”

“Tomorrow?” Yun Ci’s voice drifted coldly.

Ming Cui corrected himself at once. “No, tonight. As soon as the Marquis’s household returns from Huishan, I will explain everything.”

“And how do you intend to explain?” Yun Ci pressed, seeming to make things difficult.

“It was… all a misunderstanding,” Ming Cui replied, unease in his heart.

Hardly had he finished speaking when Han Chu returned with a tray, serving tea first to the Ming father and son, and finally placing a cup of fresh morning dew tea before Yun Ci.

Yun Ci took a sip, then said, “According to your words, the missing maid from your household is beautiful and skilled in music. As it happens, there is such a person here—she was a gift from Lord Shen himself. I suppose the rumors you heard must refer to her.”

He paused, then continued, “Since Lord Ming is present, why not have your son take a look and see if the lost maid of your house is the woman standing before you now?”

Ming Cui did not dare raise his eyes, hastily replying, “No, no, it’s a misunderstanding, truly a misunderstanding.”

“Is it?” Yun Ci’s laugh was cold, carrying a note of finality. “Still, I think you should look carefully, lest you keep thinking of her in the future.”

Han Chu felt a wave of panic, her face turning pale. If Ming Cui truly recognized her…

Dreading what might come, she looked to Yun Ci, silently pleading for help.

But Yun Ci only kept his gaze on Ming Cui, repeating, “Take a good look, Second Young Master.”

At his words, Han Chu felt a glance dart her way, then quickly withdraw. That fleeting look was enough to leave her shaken.

It was Ming Cui’s gaze. At Yun Ci’s command, he dared a quick look. In the light, he saw a woman standing beside Yun Ci, her whole being suffused with radiance. Both were dressed in white, ethereal and unworldly—like a pair of immortals.

Even without makeup, her face plain and unadorned, she was nothing like the painted beauty in the Drunken Flower House. Yet even if they were the same, Ming Cui no longer dared to say a word.

He only glanced briefly, then lowered his eyes and answered respectfully, “I was misled by rumors and mistook her for someone else. Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

“Are you certain?” Yun Ci asked, this time in a gentler tone.

“I am certain,” Ming Cui replied without hesitation.

“In that case…” Yun Ci paused, then smiled. “You may go. Today’s matter was a misunderstanding, and I will not hold it against you. However, my visit to the capital is meant to be discreet—I wish not to disturb His Majesty. I trust Lord Ming will understand.”

“Of course,” Ming Cheng finally breathed in relief. “I won’t disturb Your Highness further. Should you need anything in the capital, you need only command, and I will obey without fail.”

“Without fail…” Yun Ci echoed, as if amused. “My Marquisate of Lixin is not so helpless in the capital.”

Ming Cheng quickly apologized, “It was a slip of the tongue.”

Yun Ci seized the moment to see them out. “As Right Minister of Nanxi, you are surely busy with state affairs. Thank you for making time to come. I won’t keep you any longer.”

Ming Cheng and Ming Cui bowed and prepared to leave.

“One moment, Lord Ming,” Yun Ci called as they reached the door. “Since your household’s maid has run away, I doubt she would serve you willingly if caught. Today you have come in person over this misunderstanding—allow me, then, to plead for her sake. What say you?”

“To forgive where one can—that is the mark of true generosity. Your Highness is indeed merciful, and I am grateful for your lesson.”