Xie Jing gripped his elder brother’s hand tightly as they squeezed through the massive crowds beneath the “The Realm’s Literary Hub” archway. It was the end of the year, and lanterns were being hung along both banks of the Qinhuai River. Nearly all the dignitaries and nobles of Jinling would visit this place; for the common folk, looking at the scenery was secondary to the far more interesting pastime of observing the diverse array of people.
Although the snow at the end of the eleventh year of Jianning was unusually heavy, the Confucius Temple was not far from their home. The two brothers chose to head out on foot without any servants; firstly, for fear that a grand entourage would make it impossible to move, and secondly, to avoid being stared at like a circus act.
Xie Yan asked, “Just now when offering incense at Dacheng Hall, what wish did you make?”
Xie Jing said listlessly, “Since Elder Brother brought me here, it must be for the sake of my studies. Surely you didn’t bring me to pray for a marriage match, right?”
Xie Yan patted his head. “One can never have too many skills. If you can achieve something in your studies, even if you do not enter officialdom in the future, you will also have other ways to make your way in life.”
As they spoke, they encountered a carriage head-on. A few young ladies were gathered by the carriage chatting; it was unclear which family they belonged to. Suddenly, a clear, bright voice called out, “Young Master Xie!”
Xie Yan turned around and saw a girl of seventeen or eighteen reaching her arm out from her cloak to wave at them, her gold bracelet shimmering in the sunlight.
He paused, then stepped forward to exchange greetings, “Miss Yao.”
The girl’s sisters stepped back half a pace, leaving space for the two to talk. She said while wearing a bright smile, “Young Master Xie has recently been promoted to Right Remonstrator. With all the social engagements lately, I expect you must be quite busy?”
Xie Yan caught her teasing tone, “Miss is joking.”
The girl, however, was not about to let him off so easily. She lowered her voice slightly, “I haven’t seen any reply from Young Master Xie regarding the few unfinished poems I sent to you last month. I suppose you’re a busy man with a short memory, and you’ve tossed them all to the back of your mind?”
“Of course not!” Xie Yan was clearly embarrassed by his own haste to deny it. Just as he was about to make amends, the girl rolled her eyes playfully. “Then you must be afraid of your colleagues gossiping, saying you are engaged in private exchanges?”
Xie Yan explained with great earnestness, “It is because I have been deliberating over the wording repeatedly. I feared that if the poems weren’t perfect, you would laugh at them when I sent them back. That is the only reason for the long delay.”
The girl let out a long, meaningful “Oh,” as if she had finally received a satisfying answer. She stopped teasing and switched to a formal, businesslike tone. “We have already received the invitation from your mansion. These past few days have been hectic with so many guests, and we haven’t had time to reply yet. My elders asked me to convey that we will certainly come to pay New Year’s respects to your father and mother on the second day of the month.”
Xie Yan returned the courtesy with a bow. He watched the girl board her carriage and depart before tapping Xie Jing on the shoulder to continue walking toward home.
Xie Jing asked curiously, “Who was that?”
Xie Yan simply shook his head. “You’ll find out on the second.”
Upon returning to Wuyi Lane, Madam Xie had just seen off several female guests. She hurried down from the main hall and, catching the scent of incense clinging to Xie Jing, urged him, “Quickly, go wash and change. We cannot afford to be late for the appointed time to enter the palace.”
Xie Jing was not particularly willing. Having just jostled about until he was dizzy and lightheaded, all he wanted now was to retreat somewhere deserted and enjoy a bit of peace. In a low voice, he said, “Can’t we simply not go?”
Madam Xie bent down so that her eyes were level with his and said solemnly, “Do you think Mother wishes to bring you there? This time, the Noble Consort heard that you had come to the capital for the New Year and specifically ordered that she wanted to see you, so it would be inconvenient to refuse. Do you still remember how to address her and how to perform the salutations as I instructed when we meet her later?”
Xie Jing could only nod, dragging his feet as he headed back to the Southern Courtyard to change his clothes.
Xie Yan felt a flicker of doubt as he watched his retreating figure. He asked his mother, “The Noble Consort has never been keen on cultivating relationships with court officials. Why has she suddenly called for Zhiwu by name?”
Lady Xie whispered, “I heard from your father that His Majesty intends to select a study companion for His Highness from among the sons of noble families. However, Empress Dowager Xiao has not yet spoken, so nothing is certain. The Noble Consort likely fears His Highness might fall into the wrong company, so she wants to see every candidate of the appropriate age for herself.”
Xie Yan frowned. “If that is the case, it would be best to send Zhiwu back to Chenliu as soon as the Lantern Festival is over.”
Lady Xie sighed. “If His Majesty has truly made up his mind, then even if Zhiwu were being raised at the farthest corners of the earth, a single imperial decree would be enough to summon him into the palace. We can only hope that the Empress Dowager remains firm and that this matter does not come about so easily.”
During every New Year season, Xie Jing had an endless supply of new clothes. He changed into an ivory-white undershirt and donned a bright red cloak. A ring of snow-fox fur around the collar bundled him up tight; half of his face was buried in the fur, leaving only a pair of dark, gleaming eyes visible.
The palace carriage delivered Madam Xie and her son to Mingluan Hall, where palace eunuchs were already waiting outside and bustling forward to assist the two down and usher them inside. In the courtyard grew pale russet plum blossoms, half-veiled among the white snow—a sight one would never see at their old home in Chenliu. Xie Jing paused to look a moment longer, and in doing so fell half a step behind the palace attendants before him.
Just that half step.
Before Xie Jing’s raised foot could even land on the steps, something like a stray firework lunged at him from behind with such momentum that it sent him stumbling. In the next instant, a clump of something freezing was shoved into the fox-fur collar he had worked so hard to warm up, making intimate contact with the skin of his neck.
A voice full of vigor blared in his ear: “I’m bored to death! Li Qi, you brat, what took you so long?” Meanwhile, the snowball in Xie Jing’s collar met the warmth of his body and quickly began to melt; the icy meltwater trickled down into his neckline, crawling toward his shoulders and back like a trail of ants.
He slowly turned his head to fix his gaze on the culprit beside him, who stood there with his mouth hanging open, plainly aware that he had just made a catastrophic mistake. Xie Jing opened his mouth, wanting to ask, “Who is Li Qi?” but the situation at his back was truly unbearable, freezing his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys all at once.
Before he could speak, Xie Jing shuddered. A chill shot straight up his spine to the crown of his head, forcibly flushing his eyes red and coating them with a watery mist.
In truth, the moment Lu Lingcong saw that cloak, he had already sensed something amiss—since when had that Li Qi become so delicate and pampered that he needed to wrap himself in such a bulky red padded coat just to step outside?
But then he thought: it’s the New Year, so wearing red to ward off bad luck seemed reasonable enough. And so, he had managed to convince himself.
The short stretch from the palace gates to the hall doors was far too brief for Lu Lingcong’s mind, occupied mostly by a fondness for mischief, to piece anything together. His movements had outpaced his thoughts; by the time he realized the person he was clutching didn’t feel quite right, the snowball had already been sitting in the stranger’s collar for quite a while.
The fake Li Qi turned back to stare at him. It was an unfamiliar little beauty, far better looking than the real Li Qi ever was. This “startling glance” not only left the little beauty’s eyes rimmed with red, but it also left Lu Lingcong, who had already mentally calculated eighty-one different escape routes, standing frozen on the steps.
Then, he watched as the little beauty, with an impassive face, grabbed a handful of accumulated snow from the railing, raised his hand, and slammed it down right over Lu Lingcong’s head.
Blinded and caught off guard, Lu Lingcong lost his balance. He tumbled down the steps, taking Xie Jing; whom he still had pinned in his arms, down with him. However, even in his disarray, he had enough sense left to tuck his hand behind Xie Jing’s head to keep him from getting bruised.
The palace attendants erupted in a chorus of shouts, which startled Noble Consort Wu into coming out personally to check, “What happened? How did you fall for no reason?”
Xie Jing felt no gratitude for Lu Lingcong’s protection at all; after all, if not for this nuisance, he wouldn’t have suffered this ordeal in the first place. He broke free from Lu Lingcong’s arms while the latter rubbed his shoulder and offered his mother a flimsy excuse, “A snowball fight! We were having a snowball fight!”
As the two of them stood up one after the other, Lu Lingcong tried to nudge Xie Jing with his elbow, “…Hey, you, tell her it’s true!”
Xie Jing dodged, letting the nudge hit thin air, and simply bowed to Lady Wu, “Yes. I was too eager to win and collided with His Highness.”
Lady Wu brushed the snow flecks from the tips of his hair. “Good child, there is no need for such stiff formality. You may simply call Zufeng ‘Gege’.”
She then turned to her eldest son before raising her elegant brows in warning. “Mind your manners when playing,” she cautioned. “Zhiwu’s constitution is not like yours. If he catches a cold, it will be a serious matter. Take him to the side hall to change into dry clothes.”
The palace attendants had prepared a basin of hot water and wrung out a damp cloth, intending to wipe down Xie Jing’s back where the melted snow had soaked through his clothes. Yet Xie Jing showed a clear reluctance to let anyone lay a hand on him. Lu Lingcong stepped forward and offered to do it himself. Unlike the palace servants, who were careful and restrained, he showed none of their hesitation. With a blend of sheer force and teasing insistence, he compelled Xie Jing to let him wipe the dampness from his torso and change into a dry inner robe.
He then went to the kitchen and selected several exquisite, delicate pastries; the kind that looked far better than they tasted and arranged them neatly on a plate. With great care and effort, he carried them as he slowly made his way back toward the side hall, intending to make amends.
The side hall was usually occupied solely by Lu Lingcong, but for the time being it was relinquished to the unfortunate little beauty he had just tormented. The room was fragrant and warm, like late spring, and when one looked toward the bed, there were three snow-white figures curled up together; one large, two small, like a cluster of soft little snowballs.
The little beauty had put his outer robe back on and was sitting cross-legged by the brazier while clutching his cloak for warmth. The lion-cat raised by Lady Wu, an utterly shameless creature that had never understood the concept of “modesty”, was currently curled up quite at ease in the little beauty’s lap, its tail swishing back and forth in evident satisfaction. Beside them, Lu Lingzhen had scattered her toys across the bed. A fine jade longevity lock hung from her neck, and she looked like a meticulously carved jade doll, as though she had stepped straight out of a painting.
Looking at the two children and the cat, Lu Lingcong could already picture how soft, fluffy, and comfortably warm the whole scene must be. The visual was so vivid it was almost tactile, making the cold outside feel even more severe by comparison. He instinctively wanted to huddle into the middle of that pile.
However, sensing the little beauty was likely still angry, he didn’t dare be too brazen. He walked to the edge of the bed and held the plate of pastries right under the other party’s nose, striking a tone of casual conversation, “Not bad, you’re pretty honorable. Here, have some of these.”
The fresh milk and sesame rolls had just come out of the stove, their crusts crispy and fillings thick enough to make one’s mouth water. But Xie Jing didn’t spare the plate a single glance. With his eyes downcast, he simply continued to rhythmically stroke the white cat’s fluffy fur.
Lu Lingcong was the type to grow more courageous with every setback. Having spent years locked in a battle of wits with Lu Lingzhen, he was well experienced in such matters. He knew that at times like this, only by being shamelessly persistent and taking the initiative could one seize the advantage and secure victory in a single stroke. Thus, he reached out to pluck a pastry from the plate, and brought it straight to the little beauty’s lips, insisting until he was forced to open his mouth and accept a reluctant half-bite.
After feeding the boy, Lu Lingcong did not pull his hand back. He watched as Xie Jing’s cheeks bulged slightly while he chewed, until the bite was finally swallowed. As if confirming it was indeed tasty, Xie Jing blinked, and in that instant, Lu Lingcong swiftly leaned in and took the remaining half of the pastry into his own mouth. Only then was the boy willing to finally lift his eyes. The redness around his lower eyelids hadn’t fully faded, but the previous look of grievance had vanished.
Lu Lingcong lightly tapped the corner of the boy’s mouth to brush away a stray sesame seed, then poked his cheek, deliberately pressing it into a lopsided, somewhat foolish smile.
The ugliness didn’t last long, because Xie Jing immediately let out a genuine laugh.
Lu Lingcong clicked his tongue, thinking to himself that this little beauty was far too easy to coax. Compared to Lu Lingzhen’s stubbornness, which seemed to have been brought with her from the womb, this boy was practically a celestial being.
While Lady Wu and Madam Xie were talking in the main hall, Lu Lingcong calculated that as long as he took good care of things on this end, the little beauty might even plead for mercy on his behalf when his mother eventually came to settle the score.
With this thought in mind, he felt an even greater need to cultivate their relationship. He tossed the pastry plate aside, kicked off his shoes in two quick motions, and climbed onto the bed. Then he pulled half of the little beauty’s cloak over himself, successfully burrowing into the “nest of warmth and softness” he had been coveting for quite some time. His heroic sentiments were promptly and unceremoniously buried.
Having settled in, he started by asking for a name, “What is your name?”
The little beauty’s voice was pleasant to the ear as well; it was clear and cool, without a hint of cloying, “My surname is Xie, and my given name is Jing.”
Having been raised in the palace, Lu Lingcong could never imagine that someone wouldn’t know his name and title; consequently, he had no awareness of introducing himself. He simply pressed on with his investigation, “What year were you born?”
“The third year of Jianning.” Xie Jing answered directly.
“I was born in the second year of Jianning!” Lu Lingcong was overjoyed. “I am indeed older than you. Hurry, call me ‘Gege’.”
Xie Jing pouted and turned his face away, unwilling to comply. “I already have an elder brother at home.”
Lu Lingcong had already prepared a whole speech in his head, ready to overwhelm the little beauty with his high-flown rhetoric. “An ‘elder brother’ is for showing respect and honor in front of others, but a ‘Gege’ is for showing intimacy and affection in private. How can they be the same? Take Zhenzhen for example.” He gestured with his chin toward the little girl playing with the cat’s tail. “When she’s out in the Forbidden City, she must obediently call me ‘Imperial Brother,’ but once the palace doors are closed and we are in our own home, she should call me ‘Gege’ with all the warmth in the world.”
Xie Jing’s brows knitted together, stifled by this reasoning that sounded like nonsense at first but seemed to have a strange logic upon further reflection. Recalling his mother’s instructions to ‘be patient and compliant at all times, and follow His Highness’s wishes’, he hesitated for a long moment before finally, and somewhat reluctantly, opening his mouth: “…Gege.”
Lu Lingcong gave a satisfied hum in response. He thought to himself that half the battle of making a new friend had already been won; now, all he needed to do was lay the bricks and fortify the defenses.
However, he seemed unable to find much common ground for conversation. Judging from Xie Jing’s frail build, it was likely he knew little of swordplay or martial arts. After thinking it over, Lu Lingcong suddenly recalled that his younger sister sometimes pestered their mother to tell her stories.
Telling stories was a fine idea indeed, appealing to both the refined and the popular, the young and the old. When the plot reached an interesting turn, both the teller and the listener would share a laugh; the atmosphere would warm up, and all previous grudges would vanish. Wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing?
Lu Lingcong suddenly felt that Lu Lingzhen was an inexhaustible spring of wisdom. He had never found this little ancestor as pleasing to the eye as he did at this moment.
“Why don’t you tell me a story to pass the time?” He asked, abruptly and without much context, almost pleading.
Xie Jing had already prepared himself to “maintain a calm expression and respond deferentially no matter what shocking words His Highness might utter.” When the other party spent a long time deliberating only to come up with the simple request of “telling a story,” he let out a sudden sigh of relief.
His grandfather often told him anecdotes. Xie Jing pondered for a moment and picked one he had heard recently and remembered quite clearly:
“They say that during the Jian’an era of the Late Han Dynasty, there was a minor official in Lujiang Prefecture named Jiao Zhongqing. He married a woman of the Liu clan; the two were a young couple and very much in love. Unfortunately, the ‘east wind was harsh, and their joy was thin.’ Lady Liu was sent back to her family by Mother Jiao, and her own family pressured her to remarry. Refusing to comply, she had no choice but to throw herself into the water and drown. Upon hearing the news, Jiao Zhongqing was overcome with grief and hanged himself from a tree in the courtyard.”
Lu Lingcong had not expected that the little beauty, who looked so naive and unworldly, would open his mouth and launch straight into tales of lovers entangled in obsession, life and death, and all manner of tragic passion. Yet when such stories came from Xie Jing’s lips, they were delivered with such solemn seriousness that they resembled some newly composed essay by a great Confucian scholar; dry, rigid, and so earnest it left one momentarily speechless.
After a long pause, Lu Lingcong asked tentatively, “…And that’s it?”
“That’s it.” Xie Jing said with certainty.
Immediately, he himself sensed that such a straightforward narration was likely insufficient to move the prince before him, so he added, “‘You shall be as the steadfast rock, and I as the resilient reed; the reed is tough as silk, and the rock shall never be moved’—that is the vow they made.”
These few lines were plain enough that even though Lu Lingcong detested studying, he could more or less guess their meaning. He fell silent while twirling the sash of his robe around his finger, lost in some private reflection.
Both Xie Jing’s grandfather and father had taken only one legitimate wife. Having never seen what a household with concubines looked like since childhood, he told the story merely as a story; thus, it was difficult for him to understand where Lu Lingcong’s silence stemmed from.
After a long while, Lu Lingcong finally spoke, his voice certain: “Whether one is as steady as rock or as fragile as jade, it makes no difference. In any case, I will only acknowledge one person in my life; once I’ve chosen them, it will be for a lifetime without change.”
As if that weren’t enough, he emphasized, “Not even a bolt of lightning from the heavens should dream of pulling me back.”
Xie Jing didn’t understand why he was suddenly swearing such a dire oath. He found it quite laughable, yet he was also somewhat surprised by the other party’s decisiveness and lack of hesitation. He could only chime in, “Like the constancy of the moon, like the rising of the sun; that person would be blessed indeed.”
By the afternoon, the snow had accumulated into a thick layer. Having forgotten the pain now that the wound had healed, Lu Lingcong once again urged Xie Jing along, and even brought Lu Lingzhen with them, quietly slipping out through the side door of the side hall to build a snowman in the courtyard.
He didn’t dare build it too large or conspicuous, fearing that if the emperor arrived unexpectedly and saw it, he might be displeased and order someone to sweep it away. Instead, he had Lu Lingzhen sit on a rush mat under the corridor, intending to build a small likeness of her.
Lu Lingzhen was delighted and requested, “I want a cat too.”
Lu Lingcong glared at her. “How about I let you ride the cat, then?”
Lu Lingzhen instructed meticulously, “No, I’ll be sitting, and the cat will be crouching beside me.”
Lu Lingcong had no choice but to mold another palm-sized snow cat and set it down by her side. He then called out to Xie Jing, “Don’t just stand there watching; lend a hand.”
Xie Jing pulled open his cloak; he was still holding the cat against his chest like a living hand-warmer, his hands tucked inside as though wrapped in a thick wool blanket.
When Lu Lingcong looked back and saw this, he was speechless. “Aiyo, why are you still holding it? Do you really like it that much?”
Xie Jing gave the cat’s soft body a little shake. “I need to warm my hands.”
Lu Lingcong’s skill was admittedly limited, but as long as he roughly sketched out the shape and posture of Lu Lingzhen’s hairstyle, it already bore a fair resemblance. The little snowman had two small feet sticking out, looking just like Lu Lingzhen leaning back against a wall.
The facial features, however, were somewhat beyond him. Lu Lingcong casually picked up two pebbles to serve as eyes, which annoyed Lu Lingzhen. She protested, “My eyes aren’t nearly that small!”
But despite her words, she truly loved it in her heart; she even went as far as taking off her own small jade longevity lock and hanging it around the snowman’s neck.
Lu Lingcong warned her, “You’d better remember to come back for it. Once the weather turns warm tomorrow and the snow melts, there’ll be nothing left; if you lose it again then, it’ll just be ridiculous.”
The snow had only paused briefly before starting up again, driving them back indoors. Xie Jing and Lu Lingcong chatted about anything and everything; including novelties in the capital and interesting spots in Chenliu. Sometimes nonsensically, sometimes talking past each other, huddled in the side hall for the entire afternoon.
Lu Lingzhen rolled about restlessly with her head resting on the cat as a pillow. Having already grown bored of all her toys, she finally looked up only to find the two of them still chattering on without end.
For Xie Jing, this was an unprecedented first. Unlike Lu Lingcong, who had at least one or two childhood friends, Xie Jing was naturally a loner. Though there were many peers in his hometown, no one besides his grandparents and his tutor had ever been willing to talk with him for so long.
By the time dusk had settled, it was already clear that if he did not take his leave and depart the palace soon, the return journey would only grow more troublesome. Hearing the attendants busy lighting the lamps along the corridor, Lu Lingcong turned to Xie Jing. “Beg your mother to let you stay in the palace tonight to keep me company.”
Xie Jing shook his head. “On New Year’s Eve, one is meant to reunite with family. Tonight, I’ll be going out with my parents and elder brother to the streets to watch the lanterns.”
Lu Lingcong’s eyes instantly lit up. “I’ve heard that every year, a thousand sky lanterns are released over Xuanwu Lake to pray for blessings, and that the streets around the Fuzhou Confucius Temple are filled with lantern riddles!”
But his expression quickly darkened. “I haven’t seen any of it yet. Once I turn fifteen and move out of the palace to my own mansion, I’m going to make up for all these years of missed lanterns.”
At this moment, he seemed to have forgotten his original intent to win Xie Jing over, seeing him only as a new friend he had hit it off with over the last half-day. He insisted, “When that time comes, we have to go together!”
Xie Jing fobbed him off and, in the end, hooked fingers with Lu Lingcong in a childlike pact: “hook the finger, seal it, a hundred years, no changing.”
When it was finally time to depart, the two younger ones became unusually clingy; one clung to Xie Jing’s leg while the other hung onto his arm, neither was willing to let him go. Xie Jing had to patiently smooth the white cat’s fur to pry it off him, then gently patted Lu Lingzhen’s back, coaxing her to sleep before he finally managed to break free.
As for the elder brother, he also felt a pang of reluctance in his heart. However, being a “real man,” he couldn’t bring himself to show such sentimental, tearful displays of parting. He remained silent, watching with wide eyes as the “little beauty” wrapped his cloak tight once more and stepped under the oil-paper umbrella held by his mother.
A single flickering bead of yellow light from the wind lantern swayed as it gradually receded down the long palace corridor.
Beneath the pitch-black vault of the sky, even red lost its brightness, turning muted and dim, stripped of its original vivid brilliance. And so, no one could have foreseen that years later, when Prince Zhao led thirty thousand elite Tiger Division soldiers in silver armor and crimson robes, it would all trace back to this obscure beginning.
Yet it could not be denied that Lu Lingcong had indeed received a farewell meant only for him; a silently mouthed “Gege,” visible but soundless.
After Xie Jing had spoken those silent words, he drew his collar closer against the wind, which tugged at the edge of his cloak. Just before he stepped completely out of the glow cast by Mingluan Hall lanterns, he turned back for one final glance. Only then did that flash of red willingly plunge into the night.
Only a single glance, yet it lingered for a lifetime.
