Chapter 451: Tongren 3: The Year Begins Anew — Narkissos

Tongren 3: The Year Begins Anew — Narkissos

Tongren 3: The Year Begins Anew — Narkissos

"Serve your parents with filial piety, treat your subordinates with kindness. Be gentle, harmonious, upright, and obedient; respectful, frugal, modest, and proper. Do not overflow or be arrogant; do not be slanderous or deceitful. Let the ancient teachings be your model—hold fast to them."

"Though your daughter is not clever, she dares not fail to receive this."

This was the final exchange between the Imperial Commissioner and her, according to ritual, on the day of Foyou's coming-of-age ceremony. After the rites, the two consorts offered congratulations; next, the one who placed the crown and the one who assisted gave thanks; next, the Commissioner and the assembled inner officials offered congratulations; the remaining ranks offered congratulations in turn, all according to the usual forms. The coming-of-age ceremony for the Zhao Emperor's eldest daughter lasted an entire day.

Foyou knew that her father did not actually care for these elaborate rituals. When her Grandmother (Empress Dowager Zheng), who rarely left the inner palace, had specially brought it up with him, she and her younger sister Shenyou had sat quietly nearby, playing with the parrots. In a brief moment she had stolen a glance and seen her father frowning unconsciously.

Her governess said that coming of age was one of the most important moments in any young lady's life.

So she had abandoned those uncomprehending little creatures, lifted her skirt, walked to her father's side, looked up, and asked: "Father, will you come to my coming-of-age ceremony?"

Her father had laughed and held her, saying, "How could I not come?"

—That was a promise, Foyou thought.

Later, Foyou also underwent the enfeoffment ceremony and the marriage ceremony. When she recalled this scene, she slowly came to realize that even if she hadn't asked, her father would still have held a coming-of-age ceremony for her. And if he hadn't, it would have been because he found the formalities tedious, not because he disliked her.

But at fifteen, Foyou had never been able to be certain. She seemed to have lived her whole life in fear and unease, from childhood to now, from the north to the south.

When the people of the inner palace spoke of the three eldest princesses, they said the eldest was refined and dignified, the second reserved and gentle, and the youngest pure, harmonious, bright, and cheerful. Foyou wrote these twelve characters on paper, and when she looked at the large script, she felt it clearly meant that she was dignified, Shenyou was timid, and Yiyou was innocent and lively.

Foyou was quite satisfied.

She had actually been precocious. When she had first been brought back at age five, she overheard the older palace women gossiping, saying that the two princesses had suffered, but they would probably forget about it eventually, since they were still young.

Foyou held Shenyou close, pretending to be asleep, and thought: How could I not remember? Even Shenyou remembers.

She truly didn't remember the days in the prince's mansion. That was real. In her memory, there were only Grandmother's thin, powerful hands, Consort Jiang's hoarse, gentle words of comfort, and the despairing, desolate expressions of the older sisters and aunts. She and Shenyou had watched those bearded, long-haired men come and go with the clear, empty gaze peculiar to children, listening to sharp cries and curses, one after another. Gradually they grew weak, weeping submissively, until they could no longer make a sound.

Foyou didn't actually know what they were doing. She only felt fear and terror. At the time, the eldest sister had been with her, crying along with them, holding her and Shenyou tightly, murmuring "no" and "no."

She didn't know what the eldest sister meant by "no," nor whether the eldest sister was as afraid as she was, or afraid that she was afraid. Later, the eldest sister only cried, but no tears came. Foyou hesitated for half a day, then whispered to the eldest sister: "It's okay, Foyou isn't afraid."

The eldest sister's tears came again. She pressed her face against Foyou's and taught her mournfully: "This is wrong... Foyou! You should be afraid!"

The eldest sister, who had taught her to be afraid, finally made her truly afraid that very night.

Those men burst into the laundry yard, but unusually, they didn't look for anyone else. They asked directly and came straight for them. The eldest sister was pinned down by a man, crying and screaming. Grandmother shouted hoarsely beside her: "She's only eight! Eight—"

What use was it? Grandmother was knocked staggering, and then another man pressed down on her too. Those men must have been very heavy—so heavy that even Grandmother couldn't bear it. She grabbed a broken piece of a pottery bowl from the ground and stabbed it into the man's throat. Then the yard erupted into chaos. Grandmother, Consort Jiang, and the others all stopped moving, one by one, just like that man. Then the sisters and brothers stopped moving too.

When a man pointed a blood-soaked blade at the youngest, Foyou and Shenyou, someone finally shouted for him to stop. Through a blur, she heard a voice: "Only two little princesses left?"

Foyou slowly shifted her gaze to Shenyou. Her younger sister's eyes were fixed and vacant, her face full of frozen terror.

Her sister seemed to have been frightened out of her wits.

They were housed better than before.

She and her sister were moved into a separate small courtyard. Before long, two older sisters moved in as well, said to be former palace women, specially assigned to attend to them.

Foyou quickly accepted these facts. She also accepted that people kept coming to the small courtyard just to take a look at her and Shenyou and curse at them. Once, a man called the "Fourth Prince" happened to run into one of the cursing men, scolded him, and from then on the courtyard was much quieter. As he left, the Fourth Prince shook his head, looked at her, and sighed: "Your father..."

He didn't finish, but Foyou wasn't curious. She just lowered her head and thought, the robe he's wearing looks really nice—it must be very warm.

But the two palace women who called her and Shenyou "Your Highnesses" clearly thought those two words "your father" were extremely important. So in their daily chatter, they would tell her that her father was the Emperor in the south, that he had defeated the Jin, and that he would come to take them home.

Foyou didn't care about any of that. She just listened, remembered it, and then put on a smile. She knew the palace women liked that. As soon as they saw that smile, they would pityingly stroke her braids and hold her close, just like the older sisters and Grandmother used to. Until one time, the palace women said that even being able to live in this courtyard was because of her father.

Then Father really is amazing, Foyou responded for the first time. Beside her, Shenyou stared blankly, her head lowered.

The palace women laughed, then sighed.

Father truly was amazing.

Foyou quickly understood this fact. After she and Shenyou were sent back to Dongjing, they adapted just as quickly as before. At first, they lived in a large mansion, and soon they were living with Consort Pan. But she quickly realized who the true master was.

Her governess began teaching her etiquette and poetry, and the palace women told her stories of her father's brilliant and martial deeds. Foyou gradually understood that her father was the Emperor, the Son of Heaven who had saved her and her sister and the countless millions of people. She always felt that something was wrong, but she didn't know whether she should question it. She looked at Shenyou's timid and reserved expression and slowly stopped agonizing over whether to question things.

—Some people said Father didn't like them.

Rumors could never be completely suppressed. The Emperor didn't like her and Shenyou. The Emperor loathed the fathers, brothers, wives, and concubines who had returned from the north. The Emperor... no matter what, the rumors always directly or indirectly involved her father.

Sometimes Foyou wondered: Is it true?

When her younger sister Yiyou was born, Father was so happy. People said that this name was a sign of the Emperor's favor. As for Foyou and Shenyou? Everyone knew that the current Zhao Emperor had the least respect for these gods and Buddhas—he had scraped off who knows how much gold powder to fund the army.

Before her younger sister Yiyou was born, there was the "Entrusting the Orphan at Yiyou Gate" affair and the "Battle of Yaoshan." At her birth, a general amnesty was declared. As for Foyou and Shenyou? When they returned, the Emperor couldn't even bear to see them and entrusted them to the residence of Uncle Wu, the National Uncle. Their arrival symbolized the national shame of the Jingkang Incident and was mixed with the grief of nearly an entire family being wiped out.

Foyou had always been immersed in unease. At first, she was afraid that this person called "Father" would be as vicious as the men she had seen. Later, when she understood, she was afraid that Father would truly abandon them. And then Yiyou was born, and she knew her fears had come true, yet also been proven false—

Father truly doted on Yiyou, but he was also very good to her and Shenyou. He would patiently coax Shenyou with gentle words, helping her gradually forget the terrifying memories imprinted in her mind. He remembered that she loved reading and never objected whether she was reading the *Zhenguan Essentials* or romantic tales.

Foyou often thought: Father dotes on Yiyou, but what about her and Shenyou? She felt it wasn't doting. Later she understood it was pity. At first, Foyou didn't understand this feeling, but that didn't stop her from using her father's pity to test the waters, little by little.

She liked to drag Shenyou along to cling to her father. She was terrified that Father would abandon them again—this "again" came from her vague memories of early childhood, the years of wandering in the northern kingdom, or the contrast with Yiyou, perhaps all of it together. Foyou almost instinctively made sure Father noticed their existence. But she also had to admit that being with her father was always happier than being with Consorts Pan and Wu.

Father took them out of the palace to find food according to the *Dreams of Splendor of the Eastern Capital* presented by Chancellor Zhao. Along the way, Foyou asked questions in a soft, gentle voice. Sometimes when Father couldn't answer, he would turn his head to look at Commander Yang. Everyone said the Emperor's wisdom shone like a candle, but every time this happened, Foyou felt that Commander Yang seemed to know even more than Father. When her eyes lit up and she looked at him, Commander Yang would silently take a step back behind Father.

Father also took her, Shenyou, and Yiyou to see gunpowder. The boom made Yiyou cry endlessly and Shenyou panic. But Foyou's eyes widened, and her attention drifted to her father. She felt that he had a kind of unspoken pride about this, so after they returned, she tugged on his sleeve and asked why it made such a loud noise. As expected, Father became very interested and talked endlessly about it. Foyou didn't understand most of it, and later she got even more confused, but she still skillfully went "Ah!" "Oh!" "Like that!" Sometimes she would glance to the side and always notice Consort Wu holding a book, her face full of things she wanted to say but couldn't.

But life wasn't always pleasant.

After Father betrothed Yingxiang—that is, Yue Yun—to her as her husband, Duke Yue rode his horse through the inner palace and out of Xuande Tower with the great banner reading "Loyalty and Service to the Country," crossing the Imperial Street on his way back. That day, everyone in the inner palace knew about it. The palace women teased and congratulated her with good intentions. She had been taught by her governess for several years and had read some books, so she knew what it meant. She nodded and smiled with gentle dignity, but inside she was panicked and at a loss.

Had Father grown tired of her? Why had he decided on her "destination" so early? Would this Yue Yun be very vicious? She had heard that men with ambition didn't want to become imperial sons-in-law. Was he a useless idler, or would he resent her?

—Most importantly, would he treat her the way those men had treated Grandmother, the older sisters, and the aunts?

Foyou didn't ask. At seven or eight years old, she didn't even show a hint of fear or panic, because this was Father's decision, and Father was the Emperor who had saved her and brought her back. She was the eldest sister; she had to be the most proper eldest daughter of her father, the one who best embodied the princessly virtues. But soon, another worry came along, and she immediately had no time for this one.

Loss of chastity.

This matter had actually been talked about all along. Emperors who were captured, ministers who surrendered, wives who were disgraced—these people who should have died but didn't, and were brought back, were naturally whispered about. Only she and Shenyou, who had gone north at one or two years old and returned at five, whose birth mothers and Consort Jiang had all died in the north—no one dared whisper about the Emperor's daughters.

But this time, Foyou heard people say that Father was dissatisfied.

The Two Sages, who had brought the realm to such a state, could still be respectfully treated as icons. Noble families who had spent only half a year in Jin as guests were considered loyal and righteous scholars. The consorts and princesses wore fine clothes and ate delicacies; even as captives, they could barely survive and get by. After returning, they had good food, good drink, big houses, and even all the attendants they needed.

But what about the common people? The men were killed, the women were violated. How many carefree children, having lost their parents, became beggars? How many women, having lost their entire families, became prostitutes? How many white-haired elders watched their children and grandchildren die before their eyes... Why? Was the sovereign father the sovereign father of just the hundred or so people of the Zhao clan? Was he the sovereign father of the imperial clan, the royal family, the officials, and the famous families? The Shaoxing Restoration—he was the sovereign father of the common people!

What did those weeping consorts and concubines who had returned from the south have to lament? She, Foyou, and Shenyou had watched their mothers and sisters being violated with their own eyes—what right did they have to be pitied?

Foyou didn't know. Foyou could no longer hold back. Ignoring the palace women's attempts to stop her, she shouted for Officer Feng Er to take her to where her father was practicing archery. Facing her utterly astonished father, she wept uncontrollably and, between sobs, said she was sorry.

——I'm sorry, should I have died in the north long ago?

The emotion in her words was seven parts real and three parts feigned—her fear was genuine fear, and her hatred was genuine hatred.

For the first time, Foyou discovered that she was truly capable of hatred. Right in front of the duty officers and the close ministers who hadn't yet withdrawn, she asked Father: What is right? Was it only good if those dragon sons and phoenix granddaughters of three or four, seven or eight years old committed suicide? Would it have been perfect if Grand Empress and Empress Jiang had taken their own lives from the very start? Should the thousands of women kept like caged songbirds in the rear courtyards of the Two Sages and the princes have had to both charm their masters with sweet songs and eat plain food for the sake of the nation before they could earn sympathy? Just how tragic did one have to be before people could pity her without reservation?

Father flew into a rage. Later, Chief Eunuch Lan purged the inner palace attendants, and Commander Yang investigated the rumors.

Foyou finally asked Father: "Will you abandon Second Sister and me?"

Father bent down, touched her hair bun, and sighed faintly. "How could I abandon you?"

In that instant, she thought of her eldest sister, so mournful and sorrowful, and her tears fell silently but torrentially.

After that, Foyou became more and more like those beautiful phrases in the books of women's conduct. She and Shenyou could both sensitively perceive others' emotions, but while Shenyou cautiously withdrew inward, Foyou tentatively exploited them. She preferred Grand Empress and Consort Wu, but she could also gradually sit through an entire afternoon of idle chatter with Empress Wei and Consort Pan, as if she were deeply interested.

Then, she finally met the legendary Yue Yun.

The consorts and governesses in the palace were mostly opposed, and the duty officers and close ministers also wore expressions of wanting to speak but holding back, but Father said it was fine, so Foyou spent an afternoon with Yue Yun. She had asked Father about him before, and Father hesitated for a long time before saying he was reliable and skilled in martial arts.

But after meeting him, Foyou thought he was a bit dull.

Meeting Yue Yun was not easy; his father was always away on campaign. The first time she met Yue Yun was around the New Year, and by then Foyou was no longer just seven or eight years old.

Foyou was actually faintly uneasy, so she deliberately went to the pavilion where Father often stayed to wait for him. Father never forbade them from going anywhere, so the pavilion became the place Foyou most wanted to be. Countless times she had used play as an excuse to sneak nearby, watching from afar as Father spoke and acted with the councilors.

This man called Yue Yun was not as tall as Foyou had imagined. Foyou had actually seen those most famous commanders before, though she couldn't tell which one Father had bestowed with the words "Utmost Loyalty in Service to the Nation," nor could she follow Consort Pan's advice to find the youngest one—they all looked so formidable and mighty. And Yue Yun was just slightly shorter, equally sturdy, equally sun-burned to a wheat color.

Compared to Consort Wu's nephews, he indeed lacked the handsome elegance that could make a girl's heart flutter, but Foyou didn't care.

This was Father's choice.

Foyou watched as he was even more nervous than she was, his head lowered, as if his future wife's face were growing on the ground. She smiled, softly and gently invited him to take the seat of honor, offered him tea, and subtly guided him to speak. Foyou didn't know whether this young Captain Yue was too dull, or whether he was afraid that her father was the Zhao Emperor, but for the first time she felt as if she understood what it was like for Father to sit here.

...But it seemed somehow different.

In truth, they hadn't spoken for very long. When he left, Foyou gracefully returned his bow and watched as a faint blush actually spread across Yue Yun's wheat-colored face. How strange. She watched Yue Yun's retreating back, then tilted her head and asked her most straightforward and simple-minded young palace maid if her own face was red. The maid answered bluntly: "No."

Her heart suddenly skipped a beat. All those romantic tales and poems said that a pretty young lady would blush whenever she saw her gentleman. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force her powdered face to bloom with rosy clouds. Was she still the Eldest Princess who met expectations?

But then again, the future Imperial Son-in-Law wasn't a dashing, elegant young man carved from jade either.

"He's like a silly goose," Foyou said to her eagerly curious Father, "and so dark and sturdy."

"Do you like him?"

Foyou thought to herself, liking someone meant "standing in the wind and dew all night for them," but she still cared about Father's affection, Shenyou's feelings, and she still remembered the unfinished Book of Han, the unfinished Journey to the West... there were so many things worth her "standing all night for"!

So she chose the safest answer. She said sweetly, "I like Father."

Father showed that familiar, complicated expression again, completely different from the pure joy he showed toward Yiyou, but on the whole it was positive.

Foyou rarely felt resistance toward Yiyou anymore. She had found a good position for herself: the eldest sister. So she wouldn't be as fragile as Shenyou, who still feared the approach of unfamiliar eunuchs because of past nightmares, nor would she be as worrisome as Yiyou, who constantly drew helpless coaxing from governesses and consorts. She would gently accompany her younger brothers, who were still ignorant of the world; she would comfort Yiyou and Shenyou; she would even tactfully remind Consort Pan not to act foolishly when she could no longer bear it.

But how should she treat her "husband-to-be"? Everyone said that the one bestowed with "Utmost Loyalty in Service to the Nation" was the commander Father trusted and favored above all others, the one who had whipped the Jin Jun. Foyou thought, then Father probably hoped she would get along well with this husband-to-be.

She read poetry. In Chancellor Yan's lyrics, he wrote, "I wish to send a colored note and a plain letter." She too wanted to write a plain letter—many people sent "plain letters" to Father. Foyou asked Consorts Pan and Wu, and both were greatly alarmed, so she plucked up her courage and asked Father. Father agreed.

Father was still the best, Foyou thought as she picked up her brush. She didn't actually have much to say. She held the brush and concentrated for half a day, then briefly told him about the excitement Father had taken her and her two sisters to see outside the palace, and then asked Yue Yun to tell her about the battles, about his recent amusing stories. The first reply came together with a secret dispatch from his father. Foyou finished reading it and showed it to Father, who commented with interest: "It's just like his father's secret dispatches."

Gradually, Yue Yun seemed to open up as well, telling more and more stories, more and more trivial ones. Sometimes Foyou couldn't help but be a little surprised, and a little suspicious—really? Wasn't he just boasting to fool her? But it didn't matter. At worst, a dull, silly goose would just have his father's beatings replaced with scoldings. She could find out about that just by asking Father, and in her replies she pretended not to know.

Foyou knew that what Yue Yun wanted most was to go to the battlefield, just like his father, to be able to lead a great banner back through the inner palace and across the Imperial Street.

She did not have the sentiment of "pity the bones by the river, still the dream of a young wife in her chamber," nor could she "regret urging her husband to seek a marquisate." Foyou had seen too many white bones, witnessed too many faces of death. Shenyou had turned her nightmares into years of introversion and sensitivity, while Foyou had turned her nightmares into hatred, carving it stroke by stroke into her very marrow. Grand Empress, Empress Jiang, Eldest Sister... each one was a bloody mark carved into her bones.

In the autumn of the ninth year of Jianyan, when the season was one of harsh killing intent. Father had left the capital again on a personal campaign. Yue Yun wrote in his letter that he would also follow his father into the army to kill Jin Jun.

Foyou replied: Excellent.

Dongjing soon turned cold. Chaotic news from afar drifted into the palace. Grand Empress and the consorts forbade anyone from going out to play anymore. Fine, then they wouldn't go. Foyou read the Annals of Emperor Guangwu and the Biography of Guo Ziyi to Shenyou. Shenyou always hugged her hand warmer, slowly drifting into peaceful sleep to the sound of Foyou's voice. Then Foyou would call for a palace maid to bring a candle to the table, and she would read on until late into the night, then pick out the parts she didn't understand, write to ask Father, and then ask Yue Yun again.

The war was too busy; replies were not frequent. The first letter arrived in the deep autumn season of heavy frost; the second came after the New Year. That was the first time Foyou had received such a long letter. Yue Yun told her how he had killed the enemy, how when Commander Zhang handed over the troops to Big Ladle, the Jin Jun who blocked their way were so clueless... Finally, he described to her in great detail the divine might that had toppled a city with thunderous roars. Yue Yun wrote on the paper that they had killed many Jin Jun and even captured the families of high-ranking Jin Jun officials.

Foyou later couldn't remember exactly how she had replied, but she remembered that when she finished writing, she was suddenly startled to realize her eyes were so sore she couldn't open them. She told him about the gaunt Grand Empress, the gentle Empress Jiang, those aunts and sisters who had died in despair, the sight of bones piled along the roads during their journey, and those vicious, beastly Jin Jun men. She didn't know how much she had written, but the reply she received was very brief.

Yingxiang said: I will avenge you. I will march straight to Yanjing and return.

There was no condescending person assuming she was ignorant and trying to pry into the situation of noblewomen in the north, no superficial sympathy comforting her as a "weak woman" who had suffered, and no mutual pity like the noblewomen who had returned from the south. Foyou felt exhilarated. She wanted to both cry and laugh at the letter. In the end, she found she couldn't shed tears, but it wasn't from grief or despair.

After so many years of fear and drifting, Foyou finally felt at ease, felt liberated. Finally, someone treated those things as a blood debt that must be repaid. Finally, someone allowed her to speak freely about the terrifying days and nights in her memory, without worrying about being hated, being pitied, or having Grand Empress and Eldest Sister judged by filthy, despicable thoughts. Those who had driven Grand Empress to her death could finally taste the fear and despair of those years. Finally, someone could tread upon the old northern lands in her place, in the capacity of a conquering imperial army.

She finally dared, when dreaming of Grand Empress, to happily tell her: Father has come to avenge us, and Foyou has found her good man.

All these things are the past. The year has begun anew, and I am reborn.