The next day, Lu Lingcong entered the palace to report back. The emperor rewarded him with several additional jade carvings and ornaments. After bringing them home, he first let Xie Jing choose what he liked, kept one or two favorites to display in the Prince’s Mansion, and then sent the rest to Mingluan Hall, the Wu family, as well as the Xie family.
Lu Lingcong was never one to sit idle. With his official duties finished and his mind at ease, he began socializing with his circle of friends again, occasionally inviting them to gather in the garden of the Prince’s Mansion.
Xie Jing occasionally joined their gatherings a few times and found that this group of people, like Li Qi, were straightforward, frank, and utterly guileless. All their past grievances and prejudices had long been cast aside. Whenever they saw him, they acted as if they had always been close, addressing him as brother. If Lu Lingcong hadn’t stopped them, they might have even slung their arms around his shoulders. Xie Jing could only watch with a mix of amusement and resignation.
He sincerely admired Lu Lingcong to death. This person didn’t mind trouble or heat; as long as he wasn’t idle, anything was fine.
After the plum rain season passed, the days turned scorching under the blazing sun. Being too fond of play, Lu Ai became the first unlucky one in the Prince’s Mansion to fall ill.
The young maids in the inner courtyard were thrown into a brief flurry of panic and activity. Xie Jing cleared out the cooler outer room of the study, moved her cage inside so she could “recover,” and gave her some medicine. Only then did she grudgingly recover her spirits. This time she had learned her lesson and only muttered flatteries like, “Princess Consort, Princess Consort, kind-hearted and beautiful.”
After that, a few servants in the prince’s mansion also fell ill by chance. Lu Lingcong waved his hand, shortened the working hours and raised their wages, and everyone expressed their gratitude.
Next, things took a serious turn: Inside the palace, Lu Lingzhang came down with heatstroke, suffering from days of vomiting and diarrhea. It was said that he got it from staying cooped up in Linhai Hall studying.
The schoolwork naturally had to be put aside, which liberated Xie Jing. Lu Lingcong took him into the palace to visit the ailing Lu Lingzhang once. Lu Lingzhang was fast asleep, and after he softly called out a greeting, the room fell quiet again, leaving him looking rather pitiful.
On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, Lu Lingcong had lunch at his mother’s place and was pestered by Lu Lingzhen to tell the story of warming wine with green plums to discuss heroes for a while. Returning home, he searched everywhere for Xie Jing.
The study was empty, he only saw half a sheet of calligraphy that hadn’t been finished on the desk, brightly pinned down by the paperweight he had given him.
Lu Lingcong smiled, turned around, and went to the Qibi Terrace by the back lake.
Xie Jing was sprawled on the bamboo couch by the window, resting his face in one hand and pressing down a storybook with the other, with a soft cushion placed beneath his abdomen.
His long hair was uncombed, mostly spread over his shoulders and back, hanging smoothly down to the edge of the couch, suspended in the air.
His two calves were bent back halfway and hooked together crosswise, causing his trouser legs to slip down and expose a section of slender ankles and his beautiful, snow-white feet, which swayed back and forth, attracting attention.
Lu Lingcong now found it hard to look directly at Xie Jing’s feet; whenever he did, he couldn’t help recalling how they had once wrapped around his thing so seductively.
Xie Jing was wearing a single-layer summer garment made of thin, light gossamer. When he lay prone, it clung to the curves of his body, obediently outlining his graceful figure with his waist dipping inward and his buttocks gently curving outward, the allure of which was hard to describe.
He walked over, sat on the edge of the couch, and reached out to stroke Xie Jing’s exposed Achilles tendon once before asking, “Do you want to go out and have some fun?”
Xie Jing didn’t turn around, only saying, “Why did you think of looking for me?”
Lu Lingcong suddenly spotted a tiny mole, no bigger than a sesame seed, nestled between Xie Jing’s ankle and calf; likely near the Fuyang acupoint, standing out against his pale skin.
He pursed his lips, looked away, and said, “Isn’t it unusual for you to have free time? Before marrying you, I never imagined you’d be busier than me. I have to trouble you to carve out a little time just so we can go out and enjoy ourselves.”
Xie Jing simply said, “Oh,” adding, “You sound so reluctant, so let’s not go.”
Lu Lingcong quickly tried to amend: “Today is a special day, can you think why?”
Xie Jing paused, then remembered that today was the Qiqiao Festival. He pondered for a moment, pushed the book away, rested his head on his elbow, and looked back at Lu Lingcong, asking, “The Qixi Festival should be spent with lovers. Are we lovers?”
Lu Lingcong had never expected this question and subconsciously said, “No.” Seeing Xie Jing raise his eyebrows high, with an expression that said, “I knew it,” he quickly explained, “It’s true that lovers should spend it together. Haven’t all my good-for-nothing friends gone off to find their lovers? I’m the only one left, which is why I came to find you.”
Xie Jing sneered, “I should truly thank Your Highness for thinking of me so intently.”
Lu Lingcong knew he was in the wrong and could only use his signature tactics of persistent charming and acting humble. He leaned down halfway, tucked the stray hairs at Xie Jing’s temples behind his ear, lowered his head, and gently kissed his earlobe before whispering, “I misspoke. It’s actually me asking you to go out with me alone, leaving everyone else behind.”
Xie Jing stiffened. This was the first time Lu Lingcong had actively kissed him outside the context of intimacy, even if it was just his earlobe.
He shivered almost imperceptibly, tried to push himself up with his arms, but was defeated by a bout of soreness in his lower back, and fell back frustratedly to his original spot.
Lu Lingcong grew anxious and asked, “What’s wrong?” Only then did Xie Jing slowly say, “I lay prone for too long, my back is sore.”
As if given a command, Lu Lingcong immediately said, “I’ll rub it for you.” Then he placed his hands over his lower back, pressed with some force for a while, and only when Xie Jing said, “That’s enough,” did he gingerly help him sit up.
“Yin Chou said it’s best to sleep on your side and not to lie prone. I was engrossed in reading and forgot.”
Lu Lingcong immediately seized the opportunity to show attentiveness: “Tell me what you want to read next time. There’s no need for you to strain your mind and eyes by reading yourself. I’ll read it to you. Just now, Zhenzhen even praised me for telling stories interestingly.”
Xie Jing was unmoved. He just squinted at the sun and asked, “Why do you insist on taking me along? Are we going to some matchmaking temple where you can’t enter unless you’re a pair? Even if that’s the case, I don’t believe you couldn’t find someone else to go with you either. Li Qi surely doesn’t have a companion, right?”
“He certainly doesn’t.” Lu Lingcong’s gaze drifted. “No, that’s not the point. Actually, it’s because… I’m afraid you’re bored. I remember before we got married last year, you often went out wandering with those Hanlin scholars. I didn’t think you enjoyed being alone this much.”
Xie Jing was stunned and did not immediately reply. He had never mentioned these matters to Lu Lingcong, but the other party seemed to have noticed.
The change actually started when he became pregnant.
Xie Jing’s marriage to Prince Zhao was, after all, an imperial grant, and scholars privately spoke of him mostly with pity. However, this pity inevitably contained some schadenfreude, as without the top scholar in all three exams blocking their path, they had more opportunities to distinguish themselves.
Therefore, when interacting with Xie Jing then, they still treated him normally. It wasn’t uncommon for someone, like Qin Huaichun at his birthday banquet, to openly challenge Lu Lingcong on his behalf.
However, marriage wasn’t something he could decide on his own, and for Xie Jing, as a man, not being able to decide whether or not to become pregnant would truly make him a laughingstock.
From that time on, the way the Hanlin Academy viewed him became slightly distant, and they no longer dared to frequently invite him to private gatherings and feasts. Gradually, he reverted to being alone just as he was last year when he first became the top scholar.
Xie Jing’s proper duty was tutoring Lu Lingzhang. He didn’t frequently set foot in the Hanlin Academy anyway, and he wasn’t someone who naturally loved excitement or making many friends. He saw the change in how others treated him clearly and understood it perfectly, so he didn’t care much either.
But even as he insisted he didn’t care, seeing Lu Lingcong gathering friends every day; surrounded by a group who might not be particularly distinguished but were genuinely loyal, he couldn’t help feeling a touch of envy.
Seeing him stay silent, Lu Lingcong immediately sensed something was wrong. After a moment’s thought, he asked cautiously, “Did someone spread gossip? Or give you a hard time?”
Xie Jing, however, laughed and gave him a sharp glance: “In Jinling City, aside from the one who gave birth to you and the one who gave birth to me, no one else dares to trouble me.”
He stretched, instinctively touching his lower abdomen, then swung his long legs off the couch to reach for his shoes. “I’m not bored, nor am I afraid of being alone. I was already used to being by myself back when I studied in Chen Commandery.”
After speaking, he stood, hooked the ivory frame of a silk fan with one hand, and walked out of Qibi Terrace with poise, leaving Lu Lingcong with just one instruction: “Where are we going? Prepare the carriage.”
The sun blazed overhead. Not wanting to bring Yi Yun along, Lu Lingcong chose two other horses, hitched them to the carriage, and drove straight toward Mochou Lake on the western side of the city.
The back lake of the Prince’s Mansion also had a pond filled with lotus flowers, but it was cramped. Mochou Lake, however, was a genuine spectacular scene of “lotus leaves stretching toward the sky, an endless sea of green.” Last summer, around this time, Xie Jing had been stressed over the imperial marriage decree and confined at home by his father for a month. By the time he was finally free, the lotus flowers had long since withered, so he never got the chance to see them.
Last year, during the Double Ninth Festival at the Jade Terrace night gathering, Lu Lingcong had promised him he would “show him around the city.” Thinking back now, Lu Lingcong had truly taken him to see most of the scenic spots and famous sites in Jinling.
The carriage pulled up at the lakeside boat dock, teeming with people because of the Qixi Festival. As always, Lu Lingcong knew the area well. He held Xie Jing’s wrist firmly, guiding them through the throngs. After moving swiftly for a moment, he suddenly realized something and came to an abrupt halt, causing Xie Jing to nearly collide with him from behind. Lu Lingcong turned his face toward him, looking as if facing a great threat, “I forgot you aren’t alone now. Was I walking too fast? Can you handle it?”
Xie Jing was too tired to ridicule him further. He just waved his hand and said, “I can walk, but… my wrist is about to be pulled off by you.”
Lu Lingcong instantly let go. Xie Jing rubbed his wrist as he said, “Just walk ahead. I’m not blind; I’ll follow you.”
“No,” Lu Lingcong frowned after a thought, “I don’t feel at ease.” He then gently took Xie Jing’s palm, slowed his pace, and walked along the shaded path while brushing away the willow branches blocking his face as he led him forward.
Then, they arrived at a secluded small ferry crossing where a small boat was already waiting. The boatman greeted them with a bow. Lu Lingcong said, “Our family’s carriage is waiting by the boat dock. My wife cannot walk far, so please come and collect us there tonight.” The boatman nodded again and again in agreement, took the payment, and promptly departed.
The cabin was narrow, furnished only with a low table and two floor cushions, leaving almost no room to spare.
Lu Lingcong shifted his body, revealing the stern of the boat behind him for Xie Jing to see. There, two glass lotus lanterns were placed. Although the candles inside were not yet lit, they were glowing brightly under the setting sun.
“I meant to bring you here to release them on this day last year, but I was held up with matters at the Star-Plucking Tower, so I’m making up for it this year. Still, we’ll have to wait a bit, it looks best once the sky is fully dark. In the meantime, you can think about what wish you want to make.”
Having said this, Lu Lingcong lifted the long punt pole and used it to push the boat away from the crossing while Xie Jing bent down, moved toward the stern, and sat along the gunwale.
He looked down and saw his face reflected in the emerald, green lake. Occasionally, one or two koi fish swam past, rippling the water, or, like two dragons playing with a pearl, they joyfully nudged the lotus leaves with their mouths on both sides.
Xie Jing suddenly felt a mischievous urge. He craned his neck and glanced at the other end. Seeing that Lu Lingcong was gazing into the distance and had not noticed him, he picked up the fishing net piled inside the cabin that the boatman usually used. Holding one end in his hand, he gathered the rest into a bundle and tossed it into the water, producing a moderate plop.
Lu Lingcong was indeed tricked and startled by Xie Jing. He thought Xie Jing had fallen into the water and abruptly turned his head only to see him sitting there perfectly fine while clapping and laughing proudly. He could only say helplessly, “Is that fun?”
Xie Jing didn’t pay it much mind. He retrieved the fishing net and put it away. Once Lu Lingcong turned his body back, he quietly took off his boots, rolled his trouser legs up several folds, and dangled his feet over the side. Fearing that the soles of his feet would catch a chill, he didn’t dare fully submerge them in the lake, only tentatively wiggling his toes back and forth on the water surface.
In the busy stretch of the lake, someone was punting a small boat around to sell lotus seeds. The woman stood up at once and extended a lotus pod toward Xie Jing. At first, Xie Jing did not realize she was selling something and took it in confusion. Seeing the woman still holding out her hand expectantly, he realized he had no silver on him. Feeling somewhat awkward, he turned to borrow some from Lu Lingcong, but the woman shook her head and simply pointed at the fan tucked into his sash.
Seeing that it was in keeping with the custom, Xie Jing handed it over. The woman accepted it, removed the fan pendant and tucked it into her bosom, then giggled and tossed the fan back to him before turning to attend to the next boat.
Lu Lingcong watched from the bow, “That fan pendant of yours could buy her entire boat. She’s specifically targeting young masters like you, who are finely dressed, spend a fortune, and never carry silver when they go out.”
Xie Jing thought for a moment, “Then she can finish work early today. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Lu Lingcong was speechless and couldn’t refute him. After a while, he could only agree: “That’s true too. Happiness can’t be bought with gold. If thinking that makes you happy, then being fleeced is fine.”
To avoid colliding with passing boats, Lu Lingcong switched sides to punt. As he leaned, he moved out of the blind spot shielded by the canopy and instantly caught a glimpse of Xie Jing’s toes skimming the lake surface like a dragonfly. He immediately yelled, “Xie Jing!”
Xie Jing instantly pulled his feet back and crossed his legs because flipping the hem of his garment to cover his damp feet, saying, “Didn’t I tell you not to call me by my full name?”
Lu Lingcong stared at him deeply for a long while. Seeing Xie Jing guiltily turn his head away, he slowly asked, “…Do you have a nickname? Like pet name?”
Xie Jing shook his head and glanced at him: “Why? Even if I did, would you actually call me that? That’s so nauseating. If people heard it, their teeth would ache from the sweetness.”
Lu Lingcong raised an eyebrow: “I secretly think that no matter how sickeningly sweet, it couldn’t be sweeter than ‘sweetheart and darling’ one either.”
Xie Jing was utterly annoyed by him. He grabbed the remaining lotus pod he had just peeled and threw it towards Lu Lingcong. His aim was not bad, but Lu Lingcong didn’t dodge and simply flicked it gently with his punt pole just before it reached him, and the lotus pod unfortunately fell into the water.
“My grandfather always favored Lao Zhuang’s philosophy, firmly believing that the Great Dao acts through non-action and that something can be born from nothingness,” Xie Jing slowly said after a while. “Both my given name and my courtesy name were chosen by him. Jing means ‘finished’ or ‘ended,’ the final outcome; Zhiwu means ‘going nowhere,’ the process itself.”
Lu Lingcong clicked his tongue in surprise, “So there’s such a profound meaning behind it. Then I must admit my fault for accidentally defiling your courtesy name a few days ago.”
Xie Jing looked over in confusion. Lu Lingcong briefly explained that Li Qi’s brother-in-law had previously assisted with the paperwork for entering and exiting the Western Great Camp, and he had arranged for one to be made for Xie Jing as well. He added, “I just improvised an alias for you by reversing the two characters of Zhiwu, calling you ‘Wu Zhi’, the zhi is the same as in the herb zhi.”
“It’s passable, not unpleasant to hear,” Xie Jing said after listening. “If I ever accidentally commit some crime and the court puts out a warrant for me, I’ll use this name to travel the world. If you are kind enough to bail me out of prison, remember to inquire using this name.”
Lu Lingcong chuckled. Before he could speak again, another object suddenly flew right in front of him. This time, he instinctively swatted it aside with his hand. The object landed on the bow of the boat, and upon closer inspection, it was a brightly colored pouch.
He looked up and noticed that Xie Jing was also startled. The two exchanged glances, gradually developing a bad feeling. They simultaneously looked up, and instantly a shower of handkerchiefs, sweat towels, pouches, and the scent locket pendant came tumbling down, scattering onto their shoulders and laps. The source was a brightly lit pleasure boat passing right beside them, presumably hired out by some brothel.
The second-floor windows of the boat were packed with young maidens who were waving their jade-like green sleeves while giggling and greeting them.
Both Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing had enjoyed the “fruit-throwing fills the carriage” treatment before their marriage, but their reactions were clearly very different. Xie Jing wriggled free from the heap of silk and satin, practically stumbling into the cabin in embarrassment, which only drew a burst of teasing laughter from the maidens at his “hiding.” Lu Lingcong; however, pulled a handkerchief from his bosom, held it between two fingers, and fluttered it towards them, signaling that he was already taken. He then perfectly displayed a smile that conveyed a feeling of “pity we didn’t meet when I was single.”
A bolder girl teased sweetly, “Yours doesn’t have any embroidery; you must be using your own handkerchief just to meet the quota! That doesn’t count!” This set off a chorus of “Doesn’t count!” echoing from the others.
From his spot inside the cabin, Xie Jing saw clearly that, though it lacked embroidery, it bore stitched characters. It was the handkerchief he had lent Lu Lingcong to wipe his sweat in the carriage and had forgotten to retrieve. He quickly shouted, “It’s mine! Give it back to me!”
As the words left his mouth, he remembered that everyone nearby could hear him, but it was already too late. The maidens instantly burst into laughter, collectively drawing out a high-pitched “Yo—”
At that moment, the small boat drifted into the glow of the large ship’s bow lamp. Being nearer, Lu Lingcong was recognized, and someone immediately shouted, “It’s His Highness Prince Zhao!”
The others then realized Xie Jing’s identity and began teasing him toward the cabin, “Princess Consort, come out, come out! Don’t be shy! What’s so special about His Highness? We just want to see you, sisters!”
Even bolder, someone immediately picked up a pipa, selected lyrics that Xie Jing had written and circulated before he passed the imperial examinations and married, and began to sing them in a slow, graceful voice.
The two boats drifted past one another and gradually parted. Even from afar, Xie Jing could still faintly hear the singing. He himself barely remembered these old pieces of his, most had been composed on the spur of the moment at banquets and then handed them to the singing girls. Hearing them again now, he felt as if it were a lifetime ago.
By the time they reached the center of the lake, the sky had completely darkened. Lu Lingcong set down the punt pole, let the boat drift silently on the water, and climbed into the cabin. He gestured towards the writing materials on the table: “Have you made up your mind? You can write it now.”
But as he spoke, he did not use paper. Instead, he spread out Xie Jing’s handkerchief and began writing directly on it.
Xie Jing snapped back to his senses and, seeing what he was doing, reached out to snatch it, but Lu Lingcong quickly crumpled it up and hid it behind his back. “There are plenty outside. If you want one, go pick one up and write on it yourself. Don’t touch mine.”
Xie Jing had lost the energy to get mad at his thuggish behavior and just asked, “So, what did you write?”
Lu Lingcong hesitated for a moment, and his voice suddenly dropped, saying indistinctly, “…I gave our child a nickname.”
Xie Jing’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he saw Lu Lingcong slowly raise the handkerchief before him. Looking closely, there was only a single character written on it: “Ning[mfn]Ning means peace/tranquility.[/mfn]”.
He stared intently for a long time without saying a word. This character was neither rare nor difficult to write, yet both of them understood clearly that it was not a wish easily fulfilled. Who could truly guarantee a lifetime of peace and tranquility, untouched by worry or fear?
After a long while, Xie Jing finally took up the brush and, slowly, stroke by stroke, set aside all the words he had originally intended for the matchmaker. In the end, he wrote: May our child, throughout his life, never know the words “separation” and “regret.”
