Chapter 167: Words Between the Lines
The window was half open, and a basin of ice sat within. A gentle breeze drifted in, carrying a hint of cool refreshment.
Cheng Zhao was exhausted and fell asleep quickly, but Zhou Yuanshen did not sleep.
He rose, picked up the bundle from the floor, and called for the night attendant: “Throw this away.”
Utterly inauspicious.
The maid Suyue answered and entered.
Suyue took the bundle—inside, various jars and bottles had already shattered into pieces.
She recalled Huan Qingtang’s provocative sneer, then looked at the bundle the Lord Duke had discarded with such disdain, and could not help but chuckle.
The breath Suyue had been holding finally escaped.
The Lord Duke truly was an excellent master!
The Nonghua Courtyard returned to quiet.
The maids had all retired, the night cicadas in the treetops had fallen silent, leaving only the chirping of crickets by the wall.
Zhou Yuanshen returned to the bed and let down the thin gauze curtain.
The horn lamp had not yet been covered, and Cheng Zhao was already fast asleep. A pale yellow glow fell upon her face; a lingering flush colored her cheeks, set off by her dark hair, like petals in full bloom.
Zhou Yuanshen touched her cheek, his heart soft and full, yet with a faint, aching tightness.
He let out a barely audible sigh, covered the horn lamp, drew Cheng Zhao into his arms, and closed his eyes to sleep.
The next morning they set out, meeting the imperial carriage procession at the west city gate.
Second Madam rose early and first instructed Zhou Yuanqi: “Be good at home. Your third brother said his outer study has people on duty—if you sense any danger, go there for help.”
Zhou Yuanqi murmured in assent.
He was not too pleased, but fearing he might be made to pick up horse manure, he did not insist on going along.
Cheng Zhao and Second Madam, dressed properly, took a small oiled carriage to Shou’an Courtyard to take their leave of the Dowager Madame.
“When you are away from home, be cautious in word and deed everywhere. Do not disgrace the Duke’s household,” the Dowager Madame instructed.
Cheng Zhao and Second Madam acknowledged.
With departure imminent, they complied with the Dowager Madame in everything, so as not to provoke harsh words from her.
That would be terribly inauspicious.
Second Madam was superstitious about such things.
Seeing their agreeable attitude, the Dowager Madame said nothing more and instead gave them some pastries, telling them to eat them on the road to tide themselves over.
“Grandmother, we will take our leave now,” Cheng Zhao said with a smile.
The Dowager Madame gave a slight nod.
Cheng Zhao bade farewell with her mother-in-law, and as they came out of Shou’an Courtyard, the two women exchanged a smile.
Zhou Yuanshen would not travel with them; he was to accompany the Crown Prince. Second Master was to travel with the other officials and likewise would not ride in the family carriage.
Eight carriages drove out from the Duke of Chen’s residence.
Second Madam and Cheng Zhao each brought two maids and had their own carriages, but to chat and pass the time on the road, they rode together.
A basin of ice was placed in the carriage, and the morning breeze was a bit cool—not too hot.
“My archery is excellent. Later I’ll shoot a pair of white foxes for you, to make fur collars for autumn and winter,” Second Madam said to Cheng Zhao.
Cheng Zhao: “Thank you, Mother. Your archery must be outstanding—I look forward to seeing it for myself.”
Second Madam: “I’m not as good now. But in my youth, I could boast of ‘hitting a willow leaf from a hundred paces.’”
“Mother, your skills are still sharp.”
“You child, always flattering me. I’m getting so giddy I’ll have to shoot you two white foxes for sure,” Second Madam laughed.
Then she added, “Ah Shen’s archery is even better. Later, have him shoot a few white foxes for you too, so you can make a white fox cloak.”
“If we truly get several fine white foxes, this trip will not be wasted,” Cheng Zhao said.
The two women chatted and laughed all the way, and soon the carriage reached the city gate.
The imperial procession arrived shortly after, along with the carriages of various noble families. Outriders cleared the way, imperial guards stood strict watch, and the grand column streamed out of the city in full majesty.
Out of curiosity, Cheng Zhao peered ahead and behind when the procession turned a corner.
Second Madam did not scold her daughter-in-law for being less than dignified; instead she smiled and said, “Let me have a look too.”
Cheng Zhao stepped back, and Second Madam also examined the front and back.
Then she clicked her tongue: “Can’t see the head or the tail—so many carriages, at least a hundred.”
She asked Cheng Zhao, “With such a grand display for a hunt, don’t the censors scold the Emperor?”
Cheng Zhao knew a bit of historical anecdote and smiled as she said, “It seems the founding emperor established the hunting custom. One year, some ministers said it wasted resources and should be abolished.
The founding emperor was receptive to advice. But then, for two consecutive years, there was severe drought in the south during spring planting and floods in the north during the autumn harvest; after floods and droughts came plagues, and the fields were strewn with the starving dead.”
Second Madam: “Every dynasty has bad years.”
“And then there was war on top of it—it took five or six years to recover,” Cheng Zhao said.
Second Madam: “That was decades ago. I didn’t live through it. Your maternal grandmother probably remembers it.”
“My grandfather lived through it. He always said that we who have never gone hungry treat small matters as big ones. In the face of hunger, everything else is trivial.
The Cheng clan of Wu Commandery had accumulated great wealth for generations, and my grandfather was the eldest legitimate son. If even he had to go hungry, you can imagine how bad those years were,” Cheng Zhao said.
“...And afterward, it was blamed on not going hunting?”
“The founding emperor had to find some pretext—could he just let the censors say the Son of Heaven had lost virtue and heaven had sent down calamity?” Cheng Zhao said.
“Hush! Don’t let anyone hear you!” Second Madam covered her mouth.
Usually, it was Cheng Zhao covering Second Madam’s mouth.
“These years haven’t been without bad harvests either. How much turmoil there was in the late years of the late emperor—we lived through it ourselves,” Second Madam said.
“Yes, it has nothing to do with hunting. But precisely because of that incident, the censors have never dared to oppose the Emperor’s hunts,” Cheng Zhao said.
Second Madam: “Seems like he doesn’t go every year.”
“The Emperor himself doesn’t want to go every year—it’s exhausting,” Cheng Zhao said.
The first day’s journey was not too tiring.
That night they lodged at the estate of a wealthy local family. This household hosted the Emperor’s hunt every time; the estate was unused in between but well maintained—almost a secondary palace.
The guard was strict.
Cheng Zhao and Second Madam, along with several other noble ladies, were housed in the same courtyard.
Someone knocked at the courtyard gate.
The stewardess entered and said to Cheng Zhao, “Duchess of Chen, the Lord Duke requests a word with you.”
Cheng Zhao had not yet changed her clothes. She thanked her and secretly slipped a red envelope of money to the stewardess before stepping out of the courtyard.
Armed guards stood at the gate.
Cheng Zhao emerged and saw Zhou Yuanshen in soft armor.
The night had no moon, and the starlight was faint, tracing his silhouette with a thin frost-like outline.
Upright, unyielding—all the refined elegance of a noble scion had vanished; his stance was straighter than a spear shaft.
His face was without expression, colder than frost and snow.
“Lord Duke,” Cheng Zhao said, performing a formal bow.
Zhou Yuanshen: “Not yet retired for the night?”
“I was speaking with Mother, waiting for the hot water to be distributed,” Cheng Zhao said.
Zhou Yuanshen: “If there’s any inconvenience, just say so, and have people handle it. You are the ladies of the Duke of Chen’s household—no one else in this courtyard outranks the two of you.”
Cheng Zhao smiled and acknowledged.
“One more thing: you must remind Mother that once we reach the hunting grounds, she must not take up a bow. Riding is fine, but shooting is not allowed,” Zhou Yuanshen said.
Cheng Zhao’s heart tightened slightly: “Why...”
“This time, the bows and arrows will bear marks—whoever takes one will have it recorded under their name,” Zhou Yuanshen said. “One can never be too careful.”
Cheng Zhao looked at him deeply.
He returned her gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod.
Cheng Zhao understood.
“I will tell Mother. Please rest assured,” she said.
Zhou Yuanshen: “If the pace is quick, we’ll arrive in three days. Endure for two more days.”
Cheng Zhao acknowledged again.
When he finished speaking and turned to leave, Cheng Zhao called out after him: “Lord Duke.”
Then she added, "Lord Duke, you must be careful in every way as well. Please take good care of yourself—Mother will worry."
"All right." He did not turn back, but answered her before walking away.
Cheng Zhao returned to the courtyard.
She relayed Zhou Yuanshen’s words to Second Madam.
Second Madam said, "What a pity. I was hoping to hunt a white fox for you."
"Mother, as long as our family is safe and sound, won’t there be white foxes in some hunting ground or another in the future?" Cheng Zhao said.
Second Madam trusted her daughter-in-law above all, and she nodded at once. "Well said!"