[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-shao-song":3,"chapter-shao-song-shao-song-chapter-452":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Shao Song",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1558618,2024,"Chapter 452: Fellow Traveler 4: Long Fast and Embroidered Buddha — Narkissos","shao-song-chapter-452",452,"\u003Cp>Fellow Traveler 4: Long Fast and Embroidered Buddha — Narkissos\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou could not remember anything that happened before she was four or five.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was not as beloved by their father as her younger sister Yiyou, nor as clever and generous as her older sister Foyou. When she was first brought back from the north, the medical officer said her dazed and cowering manner was due to excessive fright. She only learned this later from her sister, who asked her afterward: \"—How much of what happened back then do you still remember?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou was copying the Heart Sutra. At these words, she looked over blankly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It's just...\" Foyou paused, her voice unconsciously growing softer, \"the things that happened during those years we were held captive in Jin territory.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou shook her head, but the tip of her brush was already soaked with ink. With that shake, a drop of dark stain marred the paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She did not remember, but she always seemed to dream of it. When she woke, the pillow and mat were soaked with sweat and tears, yet she could recall nothing. The moment she tried to think, her head split with pain and her whole body trembled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her sister had told her about things in the northern lands, very carefully, very slowly. Shenyou listened as if looking at flowers through a fog, always feeling she was hearing someone else's story, and it never stirred her memory. Her governess advised her, \"This is nothing good, why must the Princess dwell on it?\" She was somewhat stubborn but did not argue, only gave the governess a cold look.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone said that Princess Shenyou's gaze was always extremely cold and deep, inspiring fear at first sight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She did not know when this assessment had arisen, where it came from, or why she gave others this impression. In Shenyou's heart, the only one who could be called \"close\" was her sister, and only her sister would reach the opposite conclusion—cowardice. In her memory, her sister was always pulling her along, pulling her to find their father, pulling her to amuse the ladies and consorts, pulling her out of the palace for fun, pulling her to tease younger siblings, pulling her through one endless dark night after another, accompanying her with a soft reading voice as she slowly fell asleep, the last memory before dreaming being the warm touch of a palm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sometimes Shenyou felt that her father was her sister, and her mother was also her sister.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her mother had died in Jin territory, leaving her not a single trace of memory of her face or voice. Her father? Her father was the sovereign father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What is a sovereign father? One word decides life and death, one action can settle heaven and earth. Shenyou studied reading and writing, and every word and line in the books told her: the sovereign's heart is heaven's will, the sovereign's command cannot be defied. The books also told her: the sovereign is a boat carried by water. But she was only a tiny drop of dew—how could a dewdrop overturn a great boat? So since Father liked children who read and understood reason, she and her sister read poetry and history together. Father never mentioned the consorts lost in the north, so she never showed curiosity about her birth mother before him. Father thought the eldest son of Military Governor Wu was a good match, so she married Wu Fu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—But it was not really like that. She did not find it sweet as honey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou did not like studying, truly did not. Sometimes she really admired her sister and Consort Wu—her sister could always have a book in hand, and Consort Wu, even if she disliked it, could still plow through reams of text. Once she heard her sister discussing something with Consort Wu about Buddhist and Daoist metaphors in Journey to the West. Shenyou instinctively turned and exchanged a glance with Consort Pan. At that moment, she discovered that she and Consort Pan shared the same subtle feeling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to studying, she liked embroidery and painting. Her sister teased her, saying her painting skill all came from tracing patterns. Hearing this, she did not know whether to argue, and in the end, as always, fell silent. The first time Father took her and her sister to Xiangguo Temple, she was stunned by the murals of buildings, people, and animals so vivid they seemed alive—a ethereal, wondrous beauty that the dilapidated, familiar palace halls lacked. After returning, she carefully traced those murals onto paper and then embroidered them into a table screen. But this immature yet delicate table screen and painting brought her no praise. Of course, the only ones who saw them were her governess and her sister.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The governess frowned, her respectful face tinged with disapproval: \"His Majesty dislikes Buddhist and Daoist things. How can the Princess...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She did not finish. With a \"thump,\" Shenyou turned. The thick copy of Selections of Refined Literature in her sister's hand had fallen to the floor, but her sister showed no anger. She only gazed at her with a gentle expression and asked, \"Did I startle you?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou shook her head, turned, and opened her arms to her sister, landing as she wished in a familiar, warm embrace. She buried her head in the hollow of her sister's neck and saw in the clear glass the governess bowing low and retreating respectfully. Finally, she gazed at her own reflection, eyes slightly curved, with a barely perceptible hint of smug satisfaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—This year was the fifth year of the Jianyan era.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the fifth year of Jianyan, her younger sister Yiyou was not yet one year old, and her elder sister had already been betrothed by their father. In the seventh year of Jianyan, she too had a husband.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou had never thought about husbands or marriage. She had once been anxious because of her younger sister Yiyou's birth. She was her sister's younger sister, and Yiyou was also her sister's younger sister. Father loved the younger sister so much—Shenyou did not mind—but she did not know if her sister would also prefer Yiyou like Father did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She and her sister were raised in Consort Pan's palace. Before, Consort Pan only made a routine daily greeting. After the younger sister was born, she kept even more distance from them. Foyou often had to drag her to find their father, but now Father often had a younger sister in his arms. Shenyou watched quietly as her sister sat beside Father playing with the child, and it only felt glaring. Finally, one time when her sister tried to drag her to find Father again, Shenyou snatched her hand away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her sister looked over in surprise. She lowered her head and told her bluntly that she did not like Yiyou.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why? Too many reasons. Before, Father's embrace belonged to her sister. Shenyou feared others' touch, so every time it was her sister who first threw herself into Father's arms, then reached out to hold her hand. Before, the consorts and governesses in the palace cared most about her sister. What she heard was her sister gently returning greetings to those who inquired, and also returning greetings on behalf of her silent self. Before, her sister was the focus of everyone above and below, and she, Zhao Shenyou, was her sister's focus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unexpectedly, her sister looked around at the empty surroundings and replied expressionlessly, \"Do you think I want to go?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her sister had always been the Great Song princess praised by everyone above and below, a figure who seemed to step straight out of the countless laudatory phrases for noblewomen of the imperial clan. This was the first time Shenyou saw her sister so vividly display an emotion that \"should not\" exist. She looked up in astonishment, but her sister had already lifted her skirt and stepped over the threshold, still that serene, refined, filial, and benevolent eldest princess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in that moment, Shenyou's heart was lost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was a folk saying: at five or six, a child is a little troublemaker; at seven or eight, even dogs find them annoying. In the mouths of the Zhao Song imperial family, Shenyou and her sister were merely dismissed as \"little yellow-haired girls.\" No one had ever made them experience what it meant to be so annoying even dogs disliked them. Shenyou did not know the reasons for others; she was only afraid. She was afraid of Father. But she also revered her sister—that dependence and boundless trust seemed like a mark flowing in her blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before, she believed her sister would never abandon her. Now, even less so—a nameless joy suddenly welled up within her. She understood that only she, Zhao Shenyou, had seen this side of her sister—this unguarded, ordinary side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But that soon ended. What took away her privilege was her sister's husband, Yue Yun, the eldest son of Military Governor Yue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Foyou and Shenyou's marriages were settled, both husbands spent a year or two training at the military academy—first Yue Yun, then Wu Fu. At first, Shenyou did not know what this meant. Her sister seemed unaware as well. But this \"unawareness\" soon became Shenyou's fantasy alone. She heard with her own ears how her sister subtly and euphemistically inquired about Military Governor Yue and her husband, about Father's attitude. She witnessed with her own eyes her sister sitting opposite her future husband—one rarely shy yet with honest sincerity, the other graceful and composed yet hiding a mind of seven apertures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A good match, Shenyou said carefully, watching her sister's expression. But her sister put an arm around her and after a long while asked, \"Do you want to meet Wu Fu too? Or write letters like I do?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou refused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She hated everything that required interaction with others, and especially loathed being touched by men, including Father. The only one she did not dislike was probably her sister. No one knew why, and no one thought to care why. It was merely a trivial quirk of the lofty Zhao Song princess. Shenyou also did not know why she had to marry, or how she and her sister had vaguely acquired husbands, even their toddling little sister had one too. She had once heard her sister read to her from the New Book of Tang about the old records of Princess Taiping. She had never thought of wielding power like Taiping, but she very much wished she could, like Taiping, use the pretext of cultivating the Dao to avoid marriage—Shenyou truly wanted to be a lay devotee in retreat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logically, as the years passed, fewer and fewer people went against Father's dislikes. But when Father received her affirmative answer that she was \"interested in Buddhism,\" he only frowned at the sutras on her table. Later, when her sister casually remarked that it was strange she was not afraid of Father getting angry, Shenyou answered firmly, \"I just knew he wouldn't.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her sister was holding Yue Yun's letter at the time. She was stunned for a moment before reacting, then praised her for being quite perceptive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course she was perceptive. She knew Father would not care about such a small matter—just meditating and reading a scroll or two of sutras, not making a shocking move to become a nun. Just as in the future, as long as she did not make a huge scene by breaking off the engagement or divorcing, Father would probably not care whether she and her husband were deeply in love or sleeping in the same bed with different dreams. Parental command, matchmaker's word—a Zhao Song princess and a general's honored son—even now, Shenyou seemed somewhat luckier. In this era when Father's authority grew daily, at least she did not need to worry about being hounded to death by the nitpicking of famous ministers and virtuous scholars like Princess Yongshou or Imperial Daughter Chongde. She only needed to marry and, like tens of thousands of couples in blind arranged marriages, live out an ordinary life of joy or sorrow, adding a touch of splendor to the grand situation of the realm that was Father's only concern, as he wished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But she had just a little unwillingness... not even unwillingness, really—only a bewildered, helpless sadness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Fu could not compare to Yue Yun, who was as accomplished in civil and military arts as Military Governor Yue. Nor could he compare to Han Yanzhi (the proposed husband for Yiyou, Han Shizhong's eldest son), who was a dragon's colt defying his father's image. He was like the vast majority of young masters—not outstanding, but not terrible either. Whispers of criticism reached her ears. Some even said it was because the Second Princess had always been the least conspicuous before His Majesty, and that everything was fate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everything is fate, not a bit up to man. Shenyou had to accept it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had to accept that her sister was truly deeply in love with her husband, that Yiyou truly radiated the peace of growing old together, while only she maintained a respectful distance, like ice. Wu Fu was not improper, but no matter how much he inherited his father's smoothness and sensitivity, he could not fathom the hidden yet unconcealed resistance and coldness of the princess, nor understand her years of tossing and turning, her loneliness and barren chill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou did not know if Father and the two consorts had noticed. In the past few years, only Mother Chengping (Empress Dowager Wei) had once, during the New Year festival, privately and half-explicitly said that this was somewhat improper, and that her husband was a trusted pillar His Majesty relied upon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the New Year feast, cups and goblets clinked, and the whole table was filled with cheerful talk and laughter. But this one sentence struck her like a blow to the head, brutally forcing open the thing she refused to acknowledge—she was the one at fault, whatever the reason, it fell on her. Shenyou stood in the warm hall, beside her husband who was accustomed to her gloomy expression, yet she felt as if she stood alone on a vast white plain, ice and snow piercing to the bone, with no one to lean on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who know me say my heart is troubled; those who do not know me ask what I seek. Her drifting, uncertain gaze instinctively sought her sister's figure, until at some point her sister pulled her away from the feast. Just as when she was young and could not bear the crowd, her face turning blue, her sister led her aimlessly along the empty, deserted path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a long while, Shenyou heard her sister's voice, soothing her as gently as before, \"Have you suffered some wrong? Tell me everything.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou spoke incoherently—about her husband, about the brothers and sisters, about the consorts and ladies, about Father. By the end, she seemed to regain her senses, and her words stopped abruptly. After a long pause, she said softly, \"I really can't... I can't do it, Sister. I can't.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I can't be a princess who meets expectations, and I can't be an ideal wife. I futilely chase your shadow, wanting to hide behind you as before, making you my only shelter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Sister and I have both grown up. Sister has her own husband now, and will have her own children.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shenyou wanted to speak but stopped. In the end, she just hugged her sister as before and let out an extremely soft, faint sigh where her sister could not see.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...She could not be willful anymore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At some point, they had walked near the stone pavilion her sister liked best, where the councilors and high ministers usually sat. Now it was empty. The dim, crimson glow of the winter evening passed through the gray-black mulberry branches, scattering in fragments on the ground. Night was approaching. In the distance, a hook-like bright moon curved over the palace eaves, mingling with the scattered lights of the palace, spreading through the twilight that was neither dark nor light. Emptiness stretched endlessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shenyou, the scenery here is not as good as the thatched pavilion on the hill, but I love this place alone. Do you know why?\" Her sister seemed to ask and answer herself. \"Because I can rely on Father not caring, and come here without reporting or requesting permission, to glimpse from afar the sight of Father and the councilors exhausting their minds to whip the world into shape. Others cannot. Consort Wu and Consort Pan dare not.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"—This is the place where I can most clearly feel that His Majesty is our father. But it is also here that I have realized, countless times, that I can never sit properly in that pavilion. I cannot, you cannot, Yiyou cannot. Father probably will never know that I realized this because of him. But so what?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Are there few things in this world that are fated from birth? Are there few things that are hard to accept despite unwillingness? I once heard people use the most vile and dirty thoughts to speculate about our aunts, sisters-in-law, and elder sisters, saying that the noble ladies of the Zhao clan enjoyed all the splendor and wealth, and the Jingkang incident was not worth sympathy... But this is the truth, Shenyou. The one who said this was a porter resting in a teahouse. His old mother and sisters were handed over to the Jin by Emperor Yuansheng back then, and their fate is still unknown to this day... They have probably faced nine deaths and one life. What can be said about that?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shenyou,\" said her all-capable, elegant, and refined sister helplessly, \"life has to go on no matter what. You must let yourself go.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No suffering, cause, cessation, or path; no wisdom and no attainment, because there is nothing to attain. In the end, Shenyou truly did not know whether she had let herself go or not. She only became more indulgent, losing herself in Buddhist embroidery and painting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The troops beneath Father's dragon banner trampled across the great rivers and mountains. In over ten years, they restored the foundation of Han and Tang, and an era of peace and prosperity had arrived. Shenyou was a princess. She could not, with great fanfare, travel through mountains and rivers like ordinary scholars, so she had to content herself with unrolling scrolls and reading records. The murals that had once amazed her at Xiangguo Temple she faithfully reproduced on paper. Along the River During the Qingming Festival she borrowed from Father for several years, and when she returned it, it had become two scrolls. But the new one had fewer bridges and more shift-duty mule carts with flags delivering meals, crowds shouting desperately at the Hanyuan Garden cuju field, idle men waving lottery tickets, and envoys from small states in various poses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her husband did not understand painting. He only saw that she seemed somewhat weary and urged her a few times, then let her be. Father, whom everyone praised for his literary talent, was not even as excited as the close attendants and secretaries beside him. Perhaps she had truly let herself go. When she lifted her brush to sign the work, for the first time she did not flinch or avoid Father's gaze. In the interval of lifting her brush, she smiled at her sister, who was grinding ink for her—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First wish for a thousand years of Zhao Song, second wish for Father's lasting health. Third wish to be like swallows on the beam, meeting year after year.\u003C\u002Fp>",3272,"2026-06-06T07:46:32.508Z",1,"Novelzhen Translator","726a2b7d7b10f385220a556aae0520e2580c09e72b81f9410d0cbb4a134d1980","shao-song-chapter-453","shao-song-chapter-451",489,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fshao-song-cover.jpg"]