After many days of hard work, Fu Ming finally had a chance to sleep soundly. When he woke, Jin Yi was already out of bed, changing his clothes, likely having returned from practicing swordsmanship.
Sitting up, Fu Ming caught Jin Yi’s attention. Jin Yi walked over, still fastening his robe, and sat by the bed, holding Fu Ming’s hand. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
Meeting his gaze, Fu Ming felt a mix of shyness and a deep sense of contentment. He shook his head and replied, “I’m fine.” Then he asked, “What time is it?”
Jin Yi gently smoothed Fu Ming’s slightly disheveled hair and answered, “It’s just past the hour of Chen.” Fu Ming glanced out the window; indeed, the sun was already high. He was about to call for the maidservants to come upstairs, but Jin Yi stopped him.
“I’ll help you wash up,” Jin Yi offered. He led Fu Ming to the washstand, assisting him with the water and towel, helping him dress, and carefully combing his long black hair.
As Fu Ming observed Jin Yi’s focused expression in the mirror, he suddenly wondered if Jin Yi had served his late wife this way. He also pondered whether Jin Yi still felt the burden of fulfilling her last wishes.
Noticing Fu Ming’s slight frown, Jin Yi paused and asked, “Does it hurt?”
Suppressing these unnecessary thoughts, Fu Ming replied, “No, it doesn’t hurt.” He added, “Let’s leave it as it is today. Since we’re not going out, there’s no need to style my hair or wear a hat.”
Jin Yi understood that while Fu Ming said he felt fine, he must still be somewhat uncomfortable and should not go out.
Thus, Fu Ming spent the entire day in a loose robe with his hair down, drinking tea and reading. Jin Yi went out briefly and returned quickly, spending almost the entire day by Fu Ming’s side. Jin Yi found it increasingly difficult to look away from Fu Ming’s relaxed demeanor. There were visitors, but Jin Yi declined to meet them, citing Fu Ming’s “cold from the previous night” as the reason.
Once he felt better, Fu Ming and Jin Yi took leisurely walks around the mountain.
“One can imagine that Cuiwei Mountain is not only beautiful in summer but must also have tender green shoots in spring, vibrant blossoms, a mosaic of red and yellow leaves in autumn, and white snow and green pines in winter. It’s a pity that while the mountain always boasts these scenes, people cannot always come to enjoy them,” Fu Ming lamented, increasingly reluctant to leave.
Jin Yi half-embraced him and said, “Although we can’t always come to Cuiwei Mountain, this is not the only beautiful place. In the future, when I have time, I’ll take you to other places to enjoy the scenery of the four seasons.”
Fu Ming smiled, “I’ll hold you to that. Remember, you owe me the tender green shoots, the red leaves, and the white snow.”
Jin Yi smiled in return, “I will surely repay you.”
Their time alone together was precious, but accompanying the Third Prince meant they couldn’t decline invitations from him.
Though not one for frequent feasting, the Third Prince, with much idle time in the mountain retreat, occasionally invited everyone to gather, whether to engage in the ancient pastime of drinking wine while the water flows or to enjoy music and theater.
In ancient times, drinking wine while the water flows was activity to to drive away evil and pray for blessings, but it evolved into a scholarly gathering for poetry and drinking. A few days ago, the palace was in the limelight during the archery competition. This time, it was the time to show their talents. Unlike his previous reputation for his poetic talent, Fu Ming’s performance was deliberately subdued on this occasion.
After the event, Jin Yi asked, “Are you still not feeling well? Next time, you don’t need to attend these literary gatherings. I’ll explain to the Third Prince; he won’t hold it against you.”
Fu Ming smiled, “You don’t need to worry; I’m not unwell. My casual participation today was not because of my health.”
Jin Yi, puzzled, asked, “Then why?” He seemed to understand suddenly, looking at Fu Ming.
Fu Ming nodded, “We have already made a strong impression; anything more would be excessive.”
“So, you were holding back?” Jin Yi asked, “Does that mean I should also underperform at the hunting event?”
“Hunting?” Fu Ming laughed, “I suspect you won’t need to hold back this time.”
“Why?”
Fu Ming only said, “You’ll see.”
The next day, Jin Yi received word from the Third Prince’s attendants that the hunting event was canceled.
Jin Yi asked Fu Ming, “Did you know yesterday that the hunting would not proceed?”
Fu Ming nodded.
“How did you know?”
Fu Ming explained, “You once told me about why your friend An Jingzhi was promoted.”
“Jingzhi is skilled in giving advice, and his suggestions are often accepted by the court, which earned him the Emperor’s favor and a promotion.”
“Exactly. So this time, I guessed he would also advise the Third Prince to cancel the hunting.”
After a moment of thought, Jin Yi understood, “In summer, all things grow; it is not a time for killing.”
Fu Ming added, “A wise minister and an enlightened prince—this story will surely become a good tale when it reaches the capital.” Fu Ming even suspected that this might have been a staged act from the beginning, but he didn’t voice this thought.
As he pondered silently, Jin Yi placed his hands on Fu Ming’s shoulders. Fu Ming turned to look at him, smiling without speaking.
Jin Yi embraced him and said, “It’s a pity that someone like you married me.”
He had vast knowledge, and if he had taken the imperial examinations, he would surely have become a distinguished scholar. He understood reasoning and strategy, which would make him successful in the court. Yet, he became Jin’s husband, with no titles or prospects. Jin Yi lamented this waste of talent, feeling both admiration and a pang of sorrow for his partner.
Fu Ming smiled and said, “You don’t need to think that way. My father taught me a long time ago that ‘swallows that carry fish are heavy and thick, while mud and moss each have their own reasons.’ When I was young, he pointed to fallen flowers in the courtyard and explained these things to me, though I didn’t understand at the time. Later, I gradually understood. My nurse told me that my father often said, ‘Fate often directs us in ways we cannot control, but we can find our own place in it.'” Fu Ming turned and embraced Jin Yi, looking up at him. “Can you give me a place to settle my life?” (in this life)
Jin Yi felt a surge of unprecedented emotions, flooding his chest with both pain and joy. He replied, “Of course I can.” These four words, carrying the weight of a thousand promises, were the most resolute commitment he had ever made, aside from the time he expressed his lofty ambitions before the ancestors in the ancestral hall.
Time in the mountains passed like the wind, fleeting and fast. Soon, it was time to return to the capital.
Fu Ming joked, “Leaving the old lady and Yan’er behind for so many days, we should bring some souvenirs back; otherwise, it will be hard to enter the house.”
Jin Yi replied, “But there’s no market in Cuiwei Mountain. Where can we buy souvenirs?”
“I have an idea,” Fu Ming said, laying out his plans:
“There’s the Liuli Temple here, right? Grandmother is pious, so we can get her a string of prayer beads. The mountains are full of fragrant herbs and flowers; we can pick some and dry them to make sachets for Renlan and Xinyue. As for Yan’er, we can ask the Third Prince for a branch from that giant tree struck by lightning the other day and make him a wooden sword. It’s time for him to start practicing martial arts. These things may not be expensive, but they show our care.”
Jin Yi agreed, smiling, “That sounds wonderful. You’re so thoughtful.”
Before their return, they busied themselves with collecting offerings, making incense sachets, and carving a sword amidst the lush greenery and melodic birdsong of Cuiwei Mountain.
On the way back, Fu Ming revised his adaptation of the “Nishang Yuyi” dance while asking Jin Yi, “Was the Third Prince’s retreat here meant to avoid suspicion?”
Jin Yi, unfazed by any question Fu Ming asked, replied calmly, “Indeed. Last year, the Crown Prince handled the relief efforts in Tanzhou poorly. Local officials, trying to curry favor with him, forced the people to build a merit shrine for him, which greatly angered the Emperor. This time, the Crown Prince is likely to face consequences.”
“If it were just to avoid suspicion, the Third Prince wouldn’t need to go to such great lengths and stay away for so long with so many people. Is there another reason?”
“Yes, probably,” Jin Yi said. “The Emperor has become increasingly suspicious. The Third Prince’s actions may be an attempt to show sincerity and retreat to advance.”
“But this so-called sincerity is not without reservation. The Third Prince’s followers are certainly not limited to these few,” Fu Ming stated confidently.
Jin Yi nodded, his tone serious, “I think so too, but it’s hard to see the full picture of the court’s situation.”
Putting down his sheet music, Fu Ming placed his hand over Jin Yi’s, smiling. “You’re a dignified general, uninterested in the intrigues of court politics. A warrior’s true place is on the vast battlefield.”
Jin Yi laughed, “One day, I’ll take you to the northern frontier. I went there once as a child with my grandfather—endless skies, boundless earth, galloping on horseback—it’s exhilarating.”
“Alright,” Fu Ming raised an eyebrow, “Before that, I’ll make sure to improve my riding skills.”
—
Author’s Note:
The quote “Swallows that carry fish are heavy and thick, while mud and moss each have their own reasons” is from a poem by Chen Baozhen, a modern-era poet. I really like this poem, and since this story is set in a fictional world, I took the liberty of using it~
R : I’m back, feeling a bit better (╯3╰)
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Obrigada pelo capítulo!