Chapter 30: Her Fiancé is Just Behind a Door, Yet He…
The Daoists set up magnificent banners, arranged the five implements and five offerings, lit the double-petaled lotus lamps, and struck the jade chimes nine times. They dipped willow branches in water and sprinkled the ritual ground, signifying the cleansing of impurities. Zhao Shangjun, attending to the Perfected One Qingyang, performed the duties of a disciple and offered three sticks of incense for the Empress Dowager Feng.
The Empress Dowager held the incense, closed her eyes, and murmured a prayer. Zhao Yuanjia and Fu Tangli followed behind her, kneeling and praying.
A short while later, the ceremony was completed. The Perfected One Qingyang stepped forward to help the Empress Dowager up.
The Empress Dowager took the opportunity to point at Fu Tangli, as if mentioning it casually. “This young lady of the Fu clan, His Majesty wishes to betroth her to the Crown Prince. In your opinion, Perfected One, is her countenance compatible with the Crown Prince’s?”
When Emperor Yuanyan chose a wife for the Crown Prince, the birth characters of both parties had been repeatedly calculated by the Chief Official of the Directorate of Astronomy. The Chief Official had stated with certainty that this woman’s natal star was supportive, her four pillars were compatible with the Crown Prince’s, and their five elements were mutually generative. It was truly a match made in heaven.
This Chief Official was a disciple of the Perfected One Qingyang. As the master, he naturally couldn’t undermine his disciple.
The Perfected One Qingyang stroked his long beard, looked Fu Tangli up and down, and made a few gestures in the air with two fingers. “The palace of children is full and even, indicating many sons and much fortune. The palace of wealth is prominent, indicating both fortune and prosperity. The palace of virtue is ample, indicating a noble husband and a glorious wife. Judging by her countenance, the young lady will bring prosperity to her husband and is suitable for home and family.”
He then pointed at Zhao Yuanjia and said, “The Crown Prince’s palace of fate is like a bright mirror, reflecting the young lady’s. Your Majesty, please look. The shape of their mountain roots is identical. This is what is known as a couple’s resemblance.”
Both Zhao Yuanjia and Fu Tangli were exceptionally good-looking. As for their mountain roots, the Empress Dowager couldn’t tell. Since the Imperial Preceptor said so, then it must be so. The Empress Dowager’s heart was slightly more at ease.
The Perfected One Qingyang was about to say a few more words to foster good relations. He had prepared his speech, but before he could speak, his eyes happened to fall on Zhao Shangjun, and he couldn’t help but shiver.
Zhao Shangjun stood before the divine statue. The statue was high above, looking down on all living beings. Its massive shadow fell, casting a deep darkness on his features. He held incense in his hand, and amidst the curling smoke, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips, cold and profound.
The Perfected One Qingyang was a shrewd and smooth person, much more so than his junior brother. He made a decisive decision, changed the subject, and began to talk about the Supreme Lord’s birthday the next day. The ceremony would be grand, reaching the divine court. It was a great event, and he invited the Empress Dowager Feng to watch.
The Empress Dowager, however, was not interested. She was still a little worried and stated the purpose of her trip. “Aijia had a dream last night, which did not seem to be a good omen. I ask the Imperial Preceptor to resolve my doubts.”
The Perfected One Qingyang was calm and composed. He flicked his horsetail whisk, extended his hand in a gesture of invitation, his bearing like an immortal’s. “Your Majesty, please follow this old Daoist to the Qingyun Terrace in the back hall. There, you can hear the soughing of the pines and the cries of the cranes, the natural sounds of heaven. This old Daoist will brew a pot of calming tea and then interpret your dream in detail.”
The Empress Dowager nodded and was about to go.
“Crown Prince,” Zhao Shangjun called out to Zhao Yuanjia. “Come here. Since you are here today, you can copy a scroll of the Supreme Scripture for Salvation from Suffering. Tomorrow, at the sacrificial ceremony, it can be offered before the gods to pray for the well-being of the late Emperor.”
The Empress Dowager Feng was greatly comforted and sighed, “The Fifth Prince is so thoughtful.”
Zhao Yuanjia immediately said, “What the Daoist Master says is right.”
Zhao Shangjun’s gaze then fell on Fu Tangli.
In this situation, Fu Tangli had no say. She bowed slightly, her expression humble. “This child is willing to go with the Crown Prince to copy the scripture and pray for the well-being of the late Emperor.”
The Empress Dowager nodded in satisfaction.
With that, Zhao Shangjun left the Hall of the Celestial Worthy. Zhao Yuanjia and Fu Tangli followed behind, ascended the long green stone steps, and after a long walk, turned past a dripping water moon gate to a quiet room.
The quiet room was built by the pines, with a long, wide veranda and a bamboo curtain hanging at the door, giving the impression of an empty room filled with white light. Xuan’an and Xundu stood by the door. Seeing Zhao Shangjun arrive, they respectfully pushed open the door and rolled up the curtain.
Fu Tangli followed behind Zhao Yuanjia. As she entered, she was pierced by the gazes of the two young Daoists. She looked straight ahead, her hands tucked into her sleeves, her back straight, and passed through with composure.
Inside the room, a long table was placed under the window. An ancient zither hung on the wall. The floor was covered with cattail mats. The arrangement was similar to Zhao Shangjun’s residence at Yunlu Temple, as plain as a snow cave. Only, by the table, there was an additional celadon cloud-patterned Boshan censer. The smoke was as thin as a cicada’s wing, disappearing into the shadow of a corner.
Zhao Yuanjia couldn’t help but sigh, “The Daoist Master’s residence is so simple. There is really no need to be so harsh on yourself.”
Zhao Shangjun’s features did not even twitch. He sat down cross-legged, raised his hand slightly, and a young Daoist brought in two low tables, placing them in front of Zhao Yuanjia and Fu Tangli respectively, and also brought brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.
“The Supreme Scripture for Salvation from Suffering. Write,” Zhao Shangjun ordered.
Zhao Yuanjia rummaged on the table. “Where is the scripture?”
Zhao Shangjun glanced at Zhao Yuanjia and said calmly, “One scroll of the Salvation Scripture can deliver the souls of the dead from the boundless sea of suffering and release the spirits from the long night of the netherworld. It has great merit. Every year, the palace sends this scripture, saying it was copied by His Majesty and the Crown Prince, to be offered before the Celestial Worthy. It is only a few hundred characters, yet the Crown Prince cannot even recite it from memory. With such insincere devotion, how can you pray for blessings?”
This was truly putting Zhao Yuanjia in a difficult position. If it were anyone else, he would have flared up long ago. But the one before him was his Imperial Uncle, the Prince of Huai, Zhao Shangjun, whose power intimidated all lands. A few days ago, Zhao Shangjun had sat opposite him, drinking wine, and had seemed approachable. But at this moment, his features were cold and stern, completely different from then. Zhao Yuanjia’s fear habitually resurfaced.
He could only say sheepishly, “It has been a long time. I don’t remember it very clearly. I need to review it.”
Zhao Shangjun said nothing, just stared at him coldly. He sat motionless, yet a killing aura naturally emanated from him.
Zhao Yuanjia didn’t know why his Imperial Uncle was being so strict today, making him feel as if he were facing the old Grand Tutor who was testing his homework. He was restless and sweating a little. He looked around for help.
Xuan’an and Xundu stood to the side with their hands clasped, their eyes on their noses, their noses on their hearts, completely still.
Fu Tangli let out a long, silent sigh. She had no choice but to speak. “This child is familiar with the Daoist scriptures and can copy them on behalf of the Crown Prince.”
She met Zhao Shangjun’s sharp, sword-like gaze and said in a gentle tone, “Since this child is betrothed to the Crown Prince, we are as one. What this child writes is what the Crown Prince writes. It can express the Crown Prince’s sincere filial piety. There is nothing improper.”
Zhao Shangjun lowered his lashes, hiding the emotion in his eyes, and repeated playfully, “As one?” He actually smiled. “You have a point.”
For the first time in his life, Zhao Yuanjia felt that Emperor Yuanyan’s choice was right. The Second Lady Fu was indeed virtuous and intelligent, a model for the young ladies of the capital.
He looked at Fu Tangli and found her very pleasing to the eye. He condescended to show some concern. “In that case, I will trouble you, Second Lady. I will grind the ink for you. It can be considered that we are working together, both putting in the effort.”
The form of address had jumped from “Lady Fu” to “Second Lady.”
And so, Zhao Yuanjia ground the ink, and Fu Tangli took up the brush and began to write the Supreme Scripture for Salvation from Suffering from memory.
Her calligraphy was not like the delicate and soft style of an ordinary maiden. Each stroke was like a rising and falling mountain peak, the hooks and turns clear and bright, like a flock of wild geese flying across the long sky, elegant and flowing, filling the paper with a clear air.
Zhao Yuanjia couldn’t help but praise, “The Second Lady’s calligraphy is excellent.”
Fu Tangli smiled gently, her brush not stopping, and replied in a low voice, “Your Highness praises me too much.”
It was a rare clear day. The daylight came in from the window, warm and bright. The shadows of the green pines fell by the table. The young Crown Prince and the young lady sat together, writing with a shared brush, occasionally whispering, a scene of perfect harmony.
Zhao Shangjun closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his gaze was dark and profound, like an unfathomable night.
His fingers tapped twice on the low table abruptly. His voice was indifferent. “What is the meaning of ‘I originate from the Great Nothingness’ in this scripture?”
Zhao Yuanjia’s mouth opened and closed. He quickly glanced at Fu Tangli.
Fu Tangli’s brush did not stop, her gaze did not move. She replied properly, “The Celestial Worthy was transformed from the primordial qi, which cannot be perceived by ordinary people.”
Zhao Shangjun asked again, “Then, what does ‘These are called the Three Treasures Lords’ refer to?”
Fu Tangli’s scalp tingled. She managed to maintain her composure. “The Three Treasures are the Celestial Treasure, the Numinous Treasure, and the Divine Treasure. They are the venerable deities of the Three Caverns, known as the Cavern of Truth, the Cavern of Mystery, and the Cavern of Spirit.”
Zhao Shangjun curled his lips. “And what are the ‘thirty-six in heaven and thirty-six on earth’?”
Fu Tangli’s clothes were soaked with sweat, and she felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles. She didn’t dare to look up at Zhao Shangjun and suppressed her feelings.
“The Daoist school has thirty-six venerable scriptures, namely the three caverns of the Cavern of Truth, the Cavern of Mystery, and the Cavern of Spirit, with twelve scriptures in each cavern. They were originally secretly transmitted in the Purple Forbidden Star Palace, supreme and unparalleled, guarded by all the saints of the heavens, not to be known by the lower realms. Thus, it is said, thirty-six in heaven. Later, the Celestial Worthy took pity on the world and transmitted the scriptures to the mortal realm, to pacify the seas, heavens, mountains, and peaks. Thus, it is also said, thirty-six on earth.”
Zhao Shangjun nodded and said calmly, “I had originally thought that Lady Fu did not understand these things and needed to ask others about every word and sentence. So it turns out, Lady Fu does understand. I was mistaken.”
These were all the questions Fu Tangli had asked to tease Zhao Shangjun at Yunlu Temple. He actually remembered them clearly and now returned them to her, word for word.
This man was indeed, as he himself had said, extremely petty.
But Zhao Yuanjia, unaware of the undercurrents, even smiled and said, “The old Lord Fu is a great scholar of our time. I had thought the Second Lady’s family learning was profound, but I did not expect her to be well-versed in the Daoist scriptures as well. It sounds interesting. We can talk about it some other day when we have time.”
These words drew Zhao Shangjun’s gaze again.
Zhao Shangjun’s face was expressionless. He said decisively, “There is no need for another day. Xuan’an, Xundu, take the Crown Prince to the study, take out the Supreme Scripture for Salvation from Suffering, and explain it to him in detail, so that His Highness may memorize it and understand it thoroughly. I will test him next time we meet.”
Zhao Yuanjia had brought this upon himself. He was not convinced and was about to protest, but Zhao Shangjun’s eyes looked over. That gaze, it was impossible to describe the feeling, but it almost suffocated Zhao Yuanjia in an instant. His heart trembled, and he no longer wanted to be in the same room with Zhao Shangjun. He went along with it, stood up, and followed Xuan’an and Xundu to the study.
It was called a study, but it was just on the other side of the quiet room, separated by a row of lattice doors. Pushing open the door was all it took.
The overlapping patterned door was ajar. Through the door, although the voices were a little softer, they could still be heard clearly.
Xuan’an took out the scripture scroll and began to explain to Zhao Yuanjia in a stiff manner. “Your Highness, please listen. The scripture says, ‘At that time, the Celestial Worthy of Salvation from Suffering filled the ten directions…'”
Without someone to grind the ink, Fu Tangli still sat properly at the table, holding her breath, and continued to copy her scripture.
Incense was burning in the celadon Boshan censer. The white smoke filled the air, like the fluttering of an elusive cicada’s wing, tangling around one’s fingertips, impossible to brush away.
“Does Lady Fu know what kind of incense is burning here?” Zhao Shangjun had become calm again, as if making small talk.
Fu Tangli hesitated for a moment, then still replied, “…It is probably still Xinling Incense. It seems to be missing spikenard, or perhaps a few other things have been added.”
“Someone once said to me that if spikenard were added, it would bring warmth even to the nine heavens, which would be even more wonderful. However, spikenard has a pungent taste, which I do not like, so I ordered it not to be added. That person then said, why not try simmering borneol with white plum blossoms, which has the flavor of frost and snow. I did as she said, and it was indeed so. Lady Fu, does this smell right to you?”
These were still the words she had once said to him.
Fu Tangli’s fingertips trembled. A drop of ink fell on the paper and instantly spread into a smudge.
She was startled and instinctively wanted to wipe it, but in her haste, she made a mistake. Her sleeve brushed against the table, and the inkstone was knocked to the ground, spilling a patch of ink on the cattail mat.
“Forgive me, Daoist Master.” Fu Tangli was in a panic. She quickly left her seat to pick up the inkstone.
She reached out her hand, but it touched Zhao Shangjun’s.
He had come over at some point and had also bent down to reach for it.
That man’s fingers were hot. Fu Tangli felt as if she had been burned and quickly tried to pull back.
But Zhao Shangjun flipped his hand and grabbed her wrist.
The lattice of the door was covered with a soft silk gauze the color of the sky after rain. Looking through it, all the scenery was indistinct. Because they were bent over, they were hidden by the skirt board, and the people in the study next door did not notice the movement here and were still explaining the scripture.
Xuan’an asked, “Does Your Highness know from which classic the term ‘Taishang’ comes?”
Zhao Yuanjia’s tone was dismissive, and he answered absentmindedly, “The Book of Rites, in the Quli, there is the phrase ‘the Taishang values virtue’.”
Xuan’an said, “That’s right. The heart has a divine consciousness, and by knowing the Dao, one can be respected. Taishang is a venerable deity…”
Fu Tangli struggled, but could not break free from Zhao Shangjun’s grasp. Her heart was pounding. She said in a small voice, “Let go.”
Zhao Shangjun gripped her even tighter. He pressed her back of the head with his other hand and pulled her toward him. He leaned over, and their foreheads touched.
The posture was too intimate, like a lingering embrace. His skin was hot. The sensation made Fu Tangli suspect that she was about to have a fever again. She grew nervous, her breathing ragged, and she even trembled.
“Mm, the fever is gone. You have much more energy.” His voice, because it was so low, sounded a little hoarse.
They were so close. His scent covered the Xinling Incense, the cool of the white plum blossoms and the bitterness of the ebony, mixed together, silently enveloping her. Fu Tangli’s heart was in a turmoil, as if a hundred little deer were running wild in her chest, almost kicking a hole in it.
“Thank you for your concern, Daoist Master. I am not worthy,” she said breathlessly.
Zhao Shangjun’s fingertips caressed her wrist, lingering. His voice was gentle. “You’ve just recovered. You should be resting at home. Why are you following Zhao Yuanjia everywhere? In front of me, you’re so delicate. In front of him, you’ve become so sensible?”
When he spoke, his breath almost brushed against her lips. She grew even more nervous, and sweat began to bead on the tip of her nose. “Just talk. Why are you so close?”
Zhao Shangjun let out a faint sigh. “I should be the one asking you. I had clearly let you go. Why did you come to my door?”
“Nonsense, I did not.” Fu Tangli pressed her hand against Zhao Shangjun’s chest, not daring to let him get any closer. This man’s chest was also burning hot, his heartbeat strong and powerful, its drumming transmitted to her palm, making her own tone much weaker. “Let go quickly. Just consider it sparing me one more time.”
Zhao Shangjun raised an eyebrow, smiled, and suddenly grabbed her hand, pulled it over, and bit her finger.
Fu Tangli almost screamed, but with Zhao Yuanjia just behind a door, she couldn’t make a sound. Her lips parted, she shivered, and sucked in a breath, a faint “ying ying,” almost a sob.
He bit a little hard, like a powerful wild beast toying with its prey. His sharp canine teeth pinched her finger, rubbing back and forth, grinding, holding it, tasting her. It was very wonderful. She was fresh and fragrant, her whole body exuding a sweet scent, which made him reluctant to swallow her in one go.
He looked up, staring straight at her, his gaze gradually becoming dangerous and fierce, as if he really wanted to eat her, bit by bit, starting with her fingers.
A distinct sensation came from her fingertip, impossible to tell if it was pain or something else, fiery hot. His mouth was burning hot, and she could even touch the tip of his tongue. And that tongue was soft.
Fu Tangli’s body was teetering. Sweat broke out on her back in waves, impossible to tell if it was cold or hot. She was so anxious that her voice trembled. “Let go quickly. If the Crown Prince sees, I will have no way to defend myself. Don’t harm me.”
Zhao Shangjun’s gaze darkened, and he bit down hard.
A sharp pain shot through Fu Tangli’s finger. She gritted her teeth and tensed her body, managing to hold back a cry of pain, but the corners of her eyes couldn’t help but turn red. “You, how could you…”
Zhao Shangjun finally released her. He looked at her intently, his gaze both gentle and cold, and asked in a nonchalant tone, “You’re not afraid of me, but you’re afraid of him? In that case, what if I kill him?”
In that instant, a killing aura pressed down on her.
Fu Tangli’s eyes widened in terror as she looked at him.
But Zhao Shangjun released his hand, and the killing aura retreated again, as if it had just been her imagination. He laughed softly. “Mm, I was just scaring you.”
Fu Tangli quickly retreated, stumbled, and almost fell. Zhao Shangjun reached out to help her, but she panicked even more and dodged in a flurry. With a bang, her arm hit the low table, and the pain almost made her cry out. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
Zhao Shangjun withdrew his hand and returned to his original position. He licked his tongue slightly, savoring her taste, a faint taste of blood, with the sweetness of a young lady, absolutely wonderful, which gave him a brief moment of satisfaction.
He resumed his proper and upright posture, noble and majestic. “I am not a flood or a fierce beast. Why fear me to this extent?”
Fu Tangli clutched her finger. There were tears in her eyes, shimmering, impossible to tell if it was anger or fear. Her voice was almost inaudible. “You bit me.”
Her tone trembled a little, sounding soft and mushy. She herself didn’t realize that it might have carried a hint of complaint, or even coquetry.
Zhao Shangjun’s eyes were like a raging fire at the bottom of an abyss, a suppressed heat, even a little twisted. But when he spoke, he maintained a gentle tone. “You have also bitten me. Now, this old debt is repaid. What’s wrong with that?”
Speaking of this, Fu Tangli felt guilty and short of breath again, and for a moment, she couldn’t argue. She touched the sweat on her nose, turned her face away, and no longer looked at him.
The commotion just now had already alerted Zhao Yuanjia. He came over from the next room. “What was that sound? Second Lady, did you fall?”
Fu Tangli lowered her head, hid her finger in her sleeve, and rubbed it, saying nothing.