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墨書 Inktalez
On the way back, I walked quietly with Azure Thorn through the silent streets, the cold wind gently tousling my hair.
"Azure Thorn, I don't know why, but my chest keeps hurting for some reason."
He looked a bit surprised. "Didn't you get treated a while ago? How could—" He paused, deep in thought, then hesitantly said, "Your rib was broken and punctured your internal organs, but it hasn't healed properly yet. So whenever there's any stimulation, it compresses the bones in your chest, causing pain. You should try to keep a relaxed and cheerful mood, and also avoid extreme emotional fluctuations."
I nodded silently. Avoiding extreme emotions? Was that about not laughing too much or not crying too much?
"How's the clinic going? Is the takeover going smoothly?" I asked casually.
"It's fine; Young Master Xie is concerned," he replied seriously.
I chuckled lightly. "You don't have to be so formal. Even though I'm your master, I've always considered you all as family."
"Azure Thorn knows."
"By the way," I added, "in your spare time, make antidotes for various poisons, especially those commonly used by women in the palace. Although I'm currently in Cold Palace, who knows what the future holds? I don't want to die unexpectedly one day." I complained.
He chuckled softly. "Yes. Azure Thorn knows."
"What are you laughing at? Your medicine better be very effective; it should be able to bring someone back from the dead. Otherwise, I might not even have time to call for help before it's too late," I joked seriously.
Finally, I pretended to sigh dramatically. "Ah, I hope my days in Cold Palace are peaceful enough."
"Azure Thorn will surely ensure Young Master’s safety," he said earnestly.
I patted his shoulder playfully and said, "Relax, relax. I was just joking earlier. I'm nobody special; why would so many people come after me? I don't have that kind of charm."
Azure Thorn thought to herself: How could it be? You have always been so special that it's impossible not to attract attention. Yet, seeing me joyfully swaying in front, she ultimately said nothing.
Upon returning to the palace, of course, I did not enter through the main gate like Azure Thorn. I climbed over the wall through the back door of Alley. However, this had long become a habit.
The tasks I had assigned to Little Seven were gradually coming to fruition a few days later as those items were moved into Frostfall Palace. Large quantities of fabric were also delivered to the palace. Life had become even more leisurely than before; aside from sketching designs, I began making things myself, focusing on modern clothing—dresses, white shirts, jeans, little frocks, Qing Dynasty qipaos, and European Rococo skirts… everything one could imagine. Frostfall Palace was known in the harem as the most sinister place, and here I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing me. Those women wouldn’t come here to trouble me, and besides, I posed no threat to them anymore.
Of course, there was one more important task: managing this palace that had been neglected for years. To be honest, it was much larger and grander than Jiu Nian Xuan, but it would take time for me to clean and decorate it properly. Interior design and decoration were mandatory courses during my university days in modern times, and now they were proving useful once again.
I had Little Seven prepare many flower seeds—Roses, Peonies, White Orchids, cherry blossoms, peach blossoms, Chrysanthemums, Nerium Oleander, and lotuses… The dried-up pond was now refilled with water; I planted lotuses there, hoping to see the scenery from years ago return next year. I cleared the overgrown garden of weeds and dead branches and planted various flowers. Every day I scrubbed the palace—halls, corridors, every nook and cranny—determined to make it fresh and bright, just like a modern home. After watching me tirelessly for over a month, Suda finally joined in my efforts. Although she was an ice beauty through and through—still aloof and unapproachable even after we became friends—I was thick-skinned enough to endure it. Hehe.
I designed different styles of rooms according to the numbers and personalities of those eccentric concubines. Each concubine's room had its own theme; some were primarily light yellow or sky blue, others pink or vibrant green, mysterious purple or festive red—my room was black and white with a very understated feel. However, I focused on ensuring that each room exuded elegance. Suda’s room was purple; I felt that the nobility and pride of purple suited her well.
As Frostfall Palace became more beautiful and clean day by day, Suda's gaze toward me grew deeper; I paid no mind.
Whenever she seemed hesitant to speak up, I would pat her shoulder and say poetically, "We are both lost souls in this vast world; why must we have met before?" I knew she had many questions. But honestly, I didn’t know where to begin.
Life here was dull; I sought out many amusements for myself. I adapted all the poetry I remembered into songs and dug up modern songs from my memory. To avoid forgetting them constantly, I organized a collection of all the songs I sang during this time. Every seven days, I would invite all the concubines to the courtyard and have them sit in fixed seats according to their numbers before starting my performance. This game brought me endless joy. Dressed in the modern clothes I'd just made—a dress—I either sat quietly playing music or called Xiao Quanzi to play some tunes while I danced freely as my heart desired. After enduring Xiao Quanzi's lackluster playing for too long while watching my childish antics with indifference, Suda finally took over his role as accompanist. It turned out that ancient women were indeed skilled in music and arts; this saying proved true especially since they needed to attract the emperor's attention with their talents.
Suda played while I danced; it was delightful and liberating. Gradually, a faint smile appeared on her face as she watched me. While I laughed and danced happily on stage alone, she followed my rhythm with her playing and smiled at my movements.
This spiritual connection reminded me of long ago when I used to play duets with someone special. How happy we were then! We lived solely in our own world without concern for others or reality.
After each performance, I would personally go into the kitchen to make various pastries to share with these unfortunate women. Seeing their innocent smiles filled with happiness made me smile brightly in return. Sitting across from me, Suda looked at my silly grin with softened features. Suddenly leaning closer during my moment of surprise, she gently licked away the cream that had accidentally smeared at the corner of my mouth with her delicate tongue.
I was taken aback by her action and froze in place; seeing my reaction caused her—who rarely showed much emotion—to burst into laughter joyfully like a child who had just stolen candy.
I watched her smile and couldn't help but grin foolishly in response.
Isn't this the harmonious and happy scene I longed to see? I wanted them to forget their sorrows, to leave behind the painful memories, and to forget that seemingly gentle yet truly distant and indifferent man. I wished for those who had been abandoned to find happiness and hope for a future. Isn't this what I've been striving for all along?
"Alright," I said as I set down the cake and hopped onto the small platform I had made for myself. Clearing my throat a few times, I smiled and announced, "Now, let's have our Lady Su Daliang perform for everyone, shall we? Let's give her a warm welcome!" With that, I started clapping, and Xiao Quanzi eagerly joined in. The dazed ladies below followed suit, clapping along in confusion.
Suda looked at me coldly, her expression one of amusement as she said, "I can't sing."
I playfully grabbed her arm. "Of course you can! Don't be shy. Even if you sing poorly, we won't laugh at you. It's natural; it's not your fault. Trust me, no one here will mock you."
Her expression darkened slightly, and after a long pause, she finally gritted her teeth and said, "How do you know I sing poorly?"
I chuckled inwardly but maintained an innocent facade. "The way you're hesitating here—it's not because you're too shy to sing well; it’s because you're tone-deaf and afraid you'll scare us away! What else could it be? Do you really think you sing beautifully?" I widened my eyes in disbelief as I stared at her.
She fell silent for a moment before finally conceding, "Fine, I just don't want to be labeled as tone-deaf."
She retrieved an ancient zither from her room and sat down on the floor. A haunting melody began to flow gently from her fingertips:
"Darkness lingers in my gaze,
Outside the window, the plum blossoms cast slender shadows.
The broken swan drifts,
In the rear courtyard, Flower Breaking Child."
Last year's flowers do not wither,
This year's moon is full again.
With flowers and the moon,
A lifetime of dreams returns to sorrowful old age.
It is hard to conceal the sorrow of parting geese,
Alone, I become a wound.
She sang with deep emotion, and I listened intently. Her voice was like that of Wang Fei, echoing in the silent valley, yet also like the rushing waters of a gorge, tinkling and resonant.
To sing such a sorrowful and beautiful tune, to write such dark and painful lyrics—what kind of loneliness lies hidden in her heart? What profound sadness? Her expression was different from her usual mocking demeanor; her countenance was sorrowful, tinged with a faint melancholy, like a Purple Lily under the moonlight. It evoked pity and stirred the heart.
It is hard to conceal the sorrow of parting geese; alone, I become a wound.
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