Emperor Chongzhao fell into a dream.
In the dream, everything around him was hazy. He walked slowly forward.
A bridge appeared ahead, beside which stood a massive stone tablet inscribed with the words:
[By the Three Lives Shore, turning through reincarnation, six lifetimes of love's tribulation are bitter.]
At the very center of the bridge stood a woman holding an umbrella.
Emperor Chongzhao walked onto the bridge.
The woman turned around. She wore a veil, her features unclear, but her eyes held a faint sorrow. No jewels adorned her hair, only a simple black wooden hairpin and an elegant, delicate wreath of pale flowers atop her head. She was dressed in blue-green robes.
Consort Yun disliked the cumbersome rituals of the palace and often dressed simply in life.
"...Yueqing?" said Emperor Chongzhao.
"Your Majesty," the woman responded, gazing at the lake beneath the bridge. The lake's surface seemed like a giant mirror, flickering with various scenes.
Emperor Chongzhao couldn't help but ask, "Yueqing, what are you looking at?"
The woman said, "Past lives."
...Past lives?
Emperor Chongzhao was stunned.
Following her gaze, the lake's surface suddenly emitted a strong light, and several lines of text appeared upon it:
[Six lifetimes of love, a calamitous star brings disaster, the lute and zither cannot harmonize, no good fruit is borne.]
Following the narrative framework set by the editing at Qudu's edge, the dream dragged Emperor Chongzhao's consciousness in, spinning rapidly.
...
The first lifetime.
He was a general battling on the sandy frontiers; Yueqing was the youngest daughter of a noble and prestigious family. They met, came to know each other, and fell in love. Yueqing's family was unwilling for their daughter to marry into a military household. After much turmoil, the two finally became husband and wife.
In times without war, their days flowed by peacefully like water. Later, war came. He donned his armor and went to the front. A battle that was originally destined for victory ended with him dying on the battlefield due to the machinations of treacherous courtiers.
Upon hearing the news, Yueqing was heartbroken and, clutching his corpse, took her own life.
Outside the window, the magnolia blossoms were in full bloom, just as splendid as on their wedding night.
The second lifetime.
He was a scholar traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations; Yueqing was a daughter of the imperial clan. He achieved the title of Top Scholar, his future bright. Once, while out with friends, he encountered Yueqing, who was on a spring outing, and it was love at first sight.
Several years later, he rose to the fourth-rank official position, deeply favored by the emperor, and finally had the standing to request Yueqing's hand in marriage. But at that time, the court urgently needed a princess to marry a barbarian chieftain for peace.
A political rival who opposed him smiled and said that Yueqing, being of the imperial clan, could be enfeoffed as a princess and sent to marry far away in the borderlands.
He immediately stepped forward, declaring his love for Yueqing and begging the emperor to grant them marriage. For this, he was sentenced to twenty heavy strokes of the cane. Covered in blood, he fell unconscious. When he awoke, the news he heard was that Yueqing had been enfeoffed as a princess and would depart to marry far away that very day.
His rival, twisting the knife, even submitted a memorial requesting the emperor appoint him as the envoy to escort the princess for the first three hundred li of her journey.
Three hundred li outside the capital.
Yueqing wore red wedding robes; he too wore red official garments. They had once pledged to grow old together, but now he could only watch helplessly as she married another.
Not many years later, Yueqing died of sorrow. He resigned from his post in the capital and lived alone, never marrying again.
Before a princess's tomb in the barbarian lands, there appeared a tomb keeper from the Central Plains.
The third lifetime.
He was a scion of a noble family; Yueqing was a wandering knight-errant. They met in the jianghu, and after marrying, he followed Yueqing to roam the martial world.
Several years later, weary of their chivalrous adventures, they found a secluded place intending to settle down permanently.
The bamboo forest was tranquil, their happiness simple and serene.
But one day, upon returning from hunting, he found that an enemy they had made in the jianghu had entered their bamboo hut. That person had killed Yueqing. In a fit of rage, he lost all reason, killed the enemy, and then, holding Yueqing's body, was filled with utter grief.
The next day, a physician came to the bamboo hut. Shocked by the scene inside, he calmed after understanding the situation. Before leaving, with pity and sympathy, he said, "Pitiful... truly pitiful... This lady was only two months with child. What a sin, alas..."
Hearing this, his trembling palm fell upon Yueqing's abdomen, and he let out a mournful, beast-like roar.
...
Every lifetime ended without a good conclusion. Even when he and Yueqing had a child, that child never lived past three years. Just when a happy ending seemed within reach, all sorts of people would always interfere.
Until the sixth lifetime.
What his consciousness saw and felt in the lake was finally no longer an unfamiliar scene, but his and Yueqing's meeting in this lifetime.
He gazed almost greedily at the illusory reflections in the lake's mirror.
A little girl, smiling brightly, took his hand. "Third Brother—I want that magnolia blossom on the tree!"
He lifted the little girl up in his arms. "Is this high enough?"
"Wow—I can reach it! So amazing, so high..."
Back then, Emperor Chongzhao was just a teenager, newly entered into the contest for imperial power.
Although his attention to Yueqing was partly motivated by a desire to befriend the Sword-Holding Marquis, that sweetly smiling little girl had indeed stirred genuine feelings of affection for a younger sister in him.
As the struggle for the throne intensified, the capital at that time grew increasingly treacherous and unpredictable. The Sword-Holding Marquis, unwilling to be drawn in, decisively took his daughter, who had just turned seven, to the northern frontier, where they stayed for ten years.
When she returned, the youth of before had become the supreme emperor.
Emperor Chongzhao thought to himself that perhaps the Sword-Holding Marquis then believed the capital had stabilized, which was why he called Yueqing back to find a good marriage in the capital and see her married off with great honor.
He simply hadn't expected that upon meeting again the little girl he had cherished since youth, he would be unable to control the sudden stirring of his heart.
Yueqing didn't much like the capital, but in the end, she agreed to marry him.
The lake's mirror flashed at great speed through very blurry fragments of their time together (mainly because Qudu Bian was unclear about the specific private interactions between the "cheap father" and Consort Yun, hence the vague treatment). Even though the images were unclear, Emperor Chongzhao's memory involuntarily recalled every detail of his time with Consort Yun.
The dead, the unattainable, always become more and more perfect in memory.
The later theory of the "white moonlight" and "cinnabar mole" is still applicable here.
Emperor Chongzhao already knew the outcome of the sixth lifetime—Yueqing's death in childbirth. But experiencing it again, he saw a different scene.
At the very moment the Imperial Astrology Bureau made the prophecy about Yueqing's child, a star trailing black energy fell from the sky, crashing directly into the northeastern part of the imperial city—precisely where the Astrology Bureau was located.
The woman said, "A black star is a calamitous star."
The scenes of reincarnation in the lake had ended, but Emperor Chongzhao still hadn't regained his composure. "...A calamitous star?"
The woman said, "The calamitous star brings disaster, the lute and zither cannot harmonize, no good fruit is borne. Our love has been interfered with by the calamitous star, ultimately leading to no good ending."
"The calamitous star..." Emperor Chongzhao remembered the direction the black star fell. "The calamitous star is in the Astrology Bureau?"
"Perhaps. I do not know," she turned around. "Your Majesty, how long have I been gone from you?"
Emperor Chongzhao was overcome with grief. "Nearly three years."
"So it has been three years..." she murmured, then asked with worry and a touch of urgency, "How is our child? He must be nearly three as well. What is his temperament like? What foods does he love?"
"Is he very cute? Has he begun his studies? Has he ever thought of me?"
"Your Majesty, have you told him that his mother loved him very much?"
"..."
Emperor Chongzhao could not utter a single word in reply. His mouth opened and closed, and he found himself somewhat unable to face the gaze of the woman before him.
After a long while, he finally said in a low voice, "Our child... he is well..."
"That's good then."
The woman repeated, "That's good then."
She grasped Emperor Chongzhao's hand. "Caring for the children is hard work, my heart aches for you... and I have missed you terribly."
As the last words left her lips, her form dissolved into a wisp of mist, gently scattering.
Another line of text appeared upon the lake's surface: [Six lifetimes of marital bonds are spent, never to meet again.]
Emperor Chongzhao stumbled forward, only managing to clutch a handful of damp mist.
"No—!!"
At this moment, Emperor Chongzhao, unaware he was in a dream, felt his hatred for the calamitous star surge to its peak.
-
"No—!!"
Emperor Chongzhao jolted upright in his bed.
Eunuch Yu gave a start, his drowsiness vanishing instantly. He scrambled over, "Your Majesty, Your Majesty?" Hastily drawing aside the bed curtains, he froze in place.
Emperor Chongzhao raised a hand and felt the damp trace of a tear at the corner of his eye.
Eunuch Yu asked timidly, voice low, "Is Your Majesty feeling unwell?"
Emperor Chongzhao slowly came to his senses.
"No," his voice was hoarse.
After a moment, he repeated, "It's nothing."
"I merely... had an unpleasant dream."
So it was a dream. Thankfully, just a dream.
Eunuch Yu naturally dared not comment further, standing hunched respectfully to the side.
Emperor Chongzhao slowly exhaled, suppressing the dull ache in his chest, forcing himself to detach from the dream's intense sorrow. In the blink of an eye, he was once again the emperor whose emotions were inscrutable.
"What time is it?"
Eunuch Yu: "It is time for Your Majesty to rise. Preparations can begin now."
Emperor Chongzhao: "Mm."
The palace attendants responsible for the emperor's morning routine immediately became busy, and candlelight and lanterns illuminated the side halls surrounding the Zichen Palace.
Meanwhile, carriages came to a stop before the dismounting stele at the Donghua Gate. High-ranking officials clad in crimson and purple court robes walked in small groups, awaiting the day's Grand Court Assembly.
On ordinary days, it was the Lesser Court Assembly, attended only by officials of the fifth rank and above, along with those holding certain special positions. The Grand Court Assembly was held once every ten days, when all civil and military officials would gather to give consolidated reports, making it a generally busier affair.
Emperor Chongzhao had always placed great importance on the Grand Court Assembly, so the officials below dared not treat it perfunctorily.
After the ceremonial bows and cries of "Long live the Emperor!", following the chief eunuch's call of "Rise—!", the Grand Court Assembly commenced.
Officials from all ministries had deliberately splashed cold water on their faces beforehand and endured the chill wind on their journey. Now, though still shivering from the cold, each was exceptionally alert and spirited.
This was especially true for the Minister of Revenue, Lord Lin, whose eyes and ears were keenly attuned to everything around him.
He regarded everyone outside the Ministry of Revenue with suspicion, fearing that some fellow might once again scheme to dig a pit and squeeze silver from his department.
The Minister of Works stepped forward: "I report to Your Majesty."
"The funds allocated three months ago for the construction of the Yihe Official Bridge have been exhausted. The project is now in its final stages. I humbly request Your Majesty to allocate additional silver to the Ministry of Works."
Lord Lin's internal alarms blared!
The very first matter of the Grand Court Assembly, the very first speaker, was already trying to extract money from him? Outrageous, utterly intolerable!
He immediately spat out a sound of contempt and sneered, "Two hundred and fifty thousand taels of silver poured in, and it's still not enough to build a single bridge? Since my Ministry of Revenue allocated two hundred and fifty thousand taels initially, then it is two hundred and fifty thousand taels. Failure to complete the project on schedule is due to your Ministry of Works' poor budgeting! Using it up and asking for more? A street urchin seeking its mother's milk might cry for a second feeding if the first wasn't enough, but Lord Gu, at your age, do you still follow such logic?"
This Lord Lin had not risen through the orthodox path of imperial examinations, but he possessed a genuine talent for managing finances. The late emperor had promoted him into the Ministry of Revenue, and over the years he had climbed to the position of Minister.
Considering himself not a literati, he took pride in his reputation as a 'miser' and therefore never bothered with the elaborate formalities and refined speech of the cultured elite.
His invective this time was relatively 'palatable to both refined and common tastes'. During the late emperor's reign, it was purely vulgar, even corrupting the court's atmosphere somewhat, until the late emperor had roared at him, tweaking his ears, to improve his manners. The entire court and Emperor Chongzhao were long accustomed to it.
The Minister of Works, battle-hardened from countless verbal lashings, turned a deaf ear. Their ministry was the underfunded, overworked scapegoat, the unloved and neglected corner of the bureaucracy. Getting yelled at was perfectly normal; he understood.
Calmly, he cupped his hands towards Lord Lin in a slight bow, then turned to face the emperor, wiping away imaginary tears as he lamented, "An additional fifty thousand taels of silver is required. This is already the result of the most stringent economizing."
The accounting expert they had borrowed from the Ministry of Revenue for this task had nearly worn the beads off his abacus calculating for this matter.
A military officer grunted lowly, "I said long ago this bridge shouldn't have been built. Although the people have to take a detour, adding the saved funds to the military budget would be far better."
"Building bridges and paving roads benefits the present generation and brings advantages for a thousand autumns. What, my lord, do you believe we should not build bridges or roads? The smooth ground upon which your beloved steed gallops is precisely the result of road construction!" A Ministry of Works official finished with a flick of his sleeve. "As expected of a military man, one cannot discuss ice with a summer insect!"
The military officers initially felt a bit sheepish, but upon hearing the latter part, grew angry: "Who are you calling a summer insect?"
The Ministry of Works officials retorted: "Diverting funds for road construction to military expenses? Gentlemen, your foreheads are broad enough to race horses upon!" How audacious to snatch our Ministry of Works' silver for military funds!
A military officer glared and bellowed, "Your mother's!"
The Ministry of Works officials flushed red: "You... you impudent rascal!"
They silently recited the teachings of the Confucian sages, restraining the impulse to spit in the direction of the military officers.
The Diarist, positioned to one side below, diligently recorded the words and actions of the officials, racking his brains to polish their quarreling remarks, so that future generations reading the records would perceive this as a harmonious, friendly, and refined Grand Court Assembly between civil and military officials.
Meanwhile, the censors responsible for impeachment were delighted, secretly noting down the names of those officials who had quarreled in court—these were all candidates for impeachment on grounds of improper conduct and disrespect before the emperor.
Whether the Emperor listened or paid attention was one matter; whether they had submitted impeachments was another entirely.
An official who had never been impeached by a censor—what kind of official was that?
The Grand Court Assembly was always lively. As they argued and bickered below, Eunuch Yu above wore a pained expression.
He stole another glance at the emperor upon the dragon throne. Emperor Chongzhao was staring at the teacup on the table. It was impossible to tell how long he had been staring, his face solemn, but in truth, his mind was elsewhere.
What is Your Majesty thinking about? This is the Grand Court Assembly!
