Four Seasons Brocade – CH 261

Chapter 261 ☆、  

When Chu Mao stepped into the main hall of Chang Le Palace, Ah Wu was already waiting for him by the door. Upon seeing him enter, the group knelt to pay their respects.

Just as Ah Wu bent her knees, Chu Mao took three steps forward to support her, “Ah Wu.”

“I told you you do not need to bow,” Chu Mao said. Ah Wu could not speak. She gagged uncontrollably and ran quickly back to her inner room, vomiting for a while before finally stopping. Ming-Xin fetched water to help her wash her hands. Ah Wu washed them several times, until her hands were red from rubbing, before stopping. She then redid her makeup and went to the side room where the meal was being prepared.

Unexpectedly, this delay lasted for almost half an hour, and Emperor Jiahe was still sitting at the table. Fortunately, it was summer, so the food did not cool down quickly, but it had already been reheated once.

“Let’s eat,” Chu Mao said to Ah Wu.

Ah Wu stood beside Chu Mao, serving him, without sitting down.

Chu Mao slammed down his chopsticks. “Sit down. I have at least a hundred ways to make you sit down obediently. Do you want to try, Ah Wu?”

Ah Wu had no intention of arguing with Chu Mao. She had simply been dutifully acting as Empress. Since the Emperor had spoken, she could only sit down.

“Eat,” Chu Mao said, glancing at Ah Wu.

Ah Wu lowered her head and began shoveling rice into her bowl. The Tianshui Bijing rice, produced in a single 100-jin variety nationwide and reserved exclusively for the imperial family, tasted like straw to her.

Seeing her eat like this made Chu Mao feel distressed. He picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, intending to put it in Ah Wu’s bowl, but then hesitated and placed it on the empty plate in front of her. He then used serving chopsticks to pick up more food for her before finally putting it in Ah Wu’s bowl.

Ah Wu stood up to thank Chu Mao. Chu Mao reached out to help her, but then withdrew his hand halfway. Kneeling was better than letting her vomit again. Every time he came to Chang Le Palace, he felt hurt, but not coming, not seeing her, made him feel bitter.

After thanking Chu Mao, Ah Wu returned to her seat, but she still did not touch the food Chu Mao had put on her plate. She only ate a small portion of rice throughout the meal.

After the meal, the two moved to the east side to rest. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you play the zither,” Chu Mao said. Ah Wu played the zither beautifully and loved to play. Back in Prince Qi’s mansion, he could hear her play every few days, but now it felt like a distant memory.

Ah Wu did not reply.

Chu Mao then began to talk about matters of the court, from major national military campaigns to minor official promotions; he told Ah Wu everything, big or small.

Ah Wu remained silent and unmoved.

Half an hour after the meal, Ming-Hui spoke from outside through the curtain, “Your Majesty, it’s time for your medicine.”

Only then did Chu Mao hear Ah Wu speak, “Come in.” Otherwise, he would have thought she was a sitting block of wood.

Ah Wu treated eating like drinking medicine and drinking medicine like eating. The medicine, which looked more bitter than bile, she drank without even flinching.

“Medicine is three parts poison. If you were willing to eat properly, why would you need to take this kind of medicine? Do you not hate the smell of medicine the most?” Chu Mao asked.

Ah Wu frowned, finally unable to contain her annoyance. “Are you not being annoying? Just leave.”

Chu Mao smiled instead of getting angry, only because Ah Wu had finally shown some reaction. “Alright, I will leave now. I will come see you again tomorrow.”

In Chang Le Palace, calming incense was burned at night, allowing Ah Wu to manage a little sleep, but she was always restless. She did not know if she was dreaming or if her soul had truly drifted back to Chu Mao’s Qian Yuan Palace.

Emperor Zhengyuan—oh, he should be called Emperor Jiahe now—life remained as monotonously dull as ever. Ah Wu lay on the other end of the desk, watching Chu Mao engrossed in reviewing memorials.

Ah Wu frowned, looking at the mountain of memorials, thinking they must weigh at least several dozen jin; even her eyes were blurry from looking at them. Ah Wu pushed herself up with her hands and lightly jumped onto the desk.

As if sensing something, Chu Mao stopped writing, picked up a jade doll lying beside him, stroked it for a while, and then put it back.

Ah Wu crawled over to the jade doll, examining it closely. She had to admit, the jade craftsman had carved it quite well; it captured seven-tenths of her spirit. Chu Mao’s hand passed through Ah Wu’s head and began to stroke the jade doll again.

“Your Majesty, it’s already two quarters past the hour of Chou ^{(1:30 AM)},” a weak voice from Lu Ruoxing came from outside the door.

Ah Wu had not expected it to be so late; she should be getting up soon, but Chu Mao was still awake. Chu Mao rubbed his neck slightly, stood up, and walked out.

Lu Ruoxing followed, carrying a lantern, jogging after him. Ah Wu seemed to be bound by Chu Mao, drifting wherever he went.

Judging by the direction, Chu Mao was heading towards Chang Le Palace, and Ah Wu’s heart skipped a beat.

In Chang Le Palace, Chu Mao, still wearing the sash by the bed, lifted the bed curtains. Inside, Ah Wu lay alone. Chu Mao brushed against Ah Wu and sat down beside the bed. He reached out and touched Ah Wu’s face, then could not resist leaning down and kissing her.

Floating around, Ah Wu was furious, but the person on the bed did not move at all, sleeping like a log. Then, Ah Wu saw Chu Mao undress and get into bed, lying next to her, cradling her head in his arms.

When Ah Wu woke up in the morning, Emperor Jiahe, Chu Mao, was naturally nowhere to be seen. Ah Wu glanced at the bed and pillow beside her; there was no sign of anyone having slept there, so she did not know if she had been dreaming last night. But if it was a dream, it was too real; Ah Wu remembered every word in those memorials.

One of them was advising Chu Mao to hold a selection of concubines to expand the imperial family’s lineage.

Ah Wu felt uneasy upon waking. She feared she would again be in that state of neither life nor death, wandering for a long time, and she did not want to see Chu Mao again when her soul was separated from her body.

“Go and summon Master Changchun to the palace,” Ah Wu instructed Ming-Xin.

Master Changchun was the abbot of Baiyun Temple, who had suggested Chu Mao send her to Daci Temple when Ah Wu’s soul was separated from her body. Ah Wu believed he possessed some skill, which was why she summoned him to the palace. She explained that Chang Le Palace was somewhat unclean and that Master Changchun should draw talismans and set up a protective array to prevent impurities from entering, thus preventing her soul from leaving the palace.

At least, that was what Ah Wu thought.

Soon after Master Changchun left, the monk Huitong from Daci Temple entered the palace and performed a ritual outside Chang Le Palace. Listening to the cymbals outside, Ah Wu felt only sorrow. Her sins were probably unforgivable even in hell, yet she still enjoyed the highest wealth and glory in the world. The more Chu Mao treated her this way, the heavier Ah Wu felt her sins become.

Spring passed, and autumn came; it was now spring of the second year of the Jiahe era.

As usual, Emperor Jiahe dined at Chang Le Palace daily. When Chu Mao entered, Ah Wu could not help but frown in annoyance. What was this man trying to do? Why did he not just hate her to death?

The two finished their meal in silence. When they moved to the east side room, Ah Wu no longer needed tea, subsisting solely on water. She wore simple hemp clothing and no hair ornaments. She looked so frail, as if a breeze could blow her away, yet she still possessed a delicate and ethereal beauty, unlike her usual refined and radiant appearance.

“Second Master Gu is getting married,” Chu Mao said.

Ah Wu’s wooden face instantly came to life, her dark, bright eyes fixed on Chu Mao.

“She’s the daughter of the Cui family of Qingzhou,” Chu Mao said, satisfying Ah Wu’s curiosity.

The Cui family of Qingzhou was the family of Ah Wu’s biological mother, Lady Cui, though it was unclear whether they were from the same branch.

“Look, in the end, for the sake of the Gu family and his future, he still has to get married. Is someone like that worth risking everyone’s lives for?” Chu Mao’s words were filled with anger. “You do not need to look at me like that. This marriage has nothing to do with me.”

It was precisely because of this that Chu Mao was even angrier. He knelt, offering his heart to her, and she could throw it on the ground without even looking at it and then stomp on it. And Gu Tingyi? So heartless and ungrateful. What did he have that made him worthy of Ah Wu’s treatment? Chu Mao felt sorry for Ah Wu but also felt wronged and angry for himself.

Looking at Ah Wu again, she breathed a sigh of relief. It had always been her wish for her second brother to get married; perhaps it would also offer some comfort to her mother’s spirit in heaven.

Chu Mao looked intently at Ah Wu, wishing she could hold her face and see it clearly.

“Your Majesty, there’s no need for such words. Whether he marries or not, I only hope he can live a peaceful life.” Ah Wu knew perfectly well what Chu Mao meant and what he wanted, but she only wished he would hate her, hate her enough to kill her—that would be even better.

“Can you not forget him?” Chu Mao asked in a hoarse voice. “He’s about to get married.”

Ah Wu remained silent, only saying when pressed, “Go.”

“Why can we not live peacefully? When you were betrothed to me, you did not try to kill yourself, Rong Xuan,” Chu Mao said angrily. “In this matter, you betrayed me first. Fuhui is utterly wicked and deserves to die. Is it worth getting angry with me for someone like that? Is it worth it?” Unable to vent his anger, Chu Mao picked up a teacup and smashed it against the wall.

“She was not a good person, but are you? I hate you; I despise you. You killed the late Emperor with your own hands; how can you sleep at night? What is there about you that I like? I wish you were dead right before my eyes!” Ah Wu cried, shaking her head.

“In your heart, am I someone who would kill his own father?” Chu Mao asked Ah Wu, his voice weary.

Ah Wu remained silent.

“The late Emperor had already passed away before the palace coup, but it was kept secret. I am not that kind of person, Ah Wu. Even for your sake, I will not allow myself to become someone condemned for eternity,” Chu Mao said.

“What’s the use of saying all this now?” Ah Wu was even more exhausted than Chu Mao.

Chu Mao looked at Ah Wu with disappointment. He could not understand how someone’s heart could be so hard to warm.

“Ah Wu, a person’s patience has its limits. I cannot wait for you for much longer.” Chu Mao slumped into his chair, dejected. In his life, even in his most difficult times, he had never given up hope or effort. Only with Ah Wu had he tasted, time and again, a despair worse than despair itself, utterly powerless.

Chu Mao had been on the throne for three years. Besides the Empress, there was no one else in his harem, and he had no children. Memorials pleading for him to take more concubines had gone from one or two to a deluge; even his father-in-law had submitted a memorial.

“I need a son,” Chu Mao said with difficulty.

“No need to wait for me. Ten years, twenty years, my answer will be the same; it will not change. Your Majesty, please return,” Ah Wu said without turning her head.

Author’s Note:
Master Ming: I felt like killing Ah Wu and taking her place myself so this humble nun would not have to become a nun.
Ah Wu: He actually dared to say he would not wait?!
Brother Si-Mao: I was just threatening Ah Wu; I did not mean it.