gnovel Chapter 052: Ebony Box
Chapter 052: Ebony Box
Qin Keqing walked past the sedan chair with her head down.
Her bamboo basket contained a stack of freshly laundered clothes, news from Zhenjiang.
Yue Yinping has led the veterans of Xiangyang back to Xiangyang.
The surrendered soldiers from Jiaoshan, recruited by Li Bao, have been organized into six squads and are stationed in five fishing villages along the Jiaoshan coast.
At the same time, the Imperial City Guard replaced three intelligence chiefs in Zhenjiang Prefecture, each carrying Qin Hui's secret orders.
Qin Keqing walked past Qin Hui's sedan chair with her head down, without looking up, quickening her pace, or even making a sound from the clothes in the bamboo basket.
But her back felt a bit chilly in the June heat.
She knew what her father was thinking when he looked at that red gate in front of the Cining Palace.
When Consort Wei returned, what Zhao Gou feared most in court was what she had heard and seen in the Jin Kingdom.
Qin Hui must seize control of the Empress Dowager's information channels as soon as possible and cut off her connection with any remaining pro-war forces.
The Imperial City Guards surrounding the Cining Palace were the first row of nails he planted outside the Empress Dowager's gate.
The Empress Dowager has not yet returned, but the cage is already ready.
After returning to the small house in the side courtyard, Qin Keqing did not light a lamp.
She sat in the darkness, the booklet spread out on her lap, her fingertips tracing the words on the paper.
The cat jumped down from the windowsill, rubbed against her feet, and then curled up on the back of her feet to doze off.
She was thinking about Zhang Quwei.
Qin Keqing had only met Zhang Quwei once.
That was in the winter of the seventh year of Shaoxing, three months after she was brought back to the Qin family mansion.
Zhang Quwei had just returned from Wuguo City to deliver a message for Consort Wei. He had a private conversation with her father in the Qin family study for an hour.
As she brought the tea in, Zhang Quwei was saying, "The Empress Dowager has always kept that letter from the Emperor with her."
Qin Hui's face was very ugly. He waved for her to leave. As she retreated to the door, Zhang Quwei looked up at her.
That glance was brief, but she remembered Zhang Quwei's eyes.
That was the look in the eyes of someone who had spent several years in the Jin Kingdom—tired, alert, but not completely extinguished.
Back then, she didn't know Zhijia, copper coins, or wooden birds. Now she knows all of these things, and Zhang Quwei is finally coming back.
On the tenth day of the seventh month, Zhao Bocong received a letter from Xiuzhou in his study.
The letter was written by Zhao Bogui and was very short: "The Shen family of Xiuzhou sent someone to ask when Qingci would return. Mother said there was no rush."
Zhao Bozong placed the letter on the table and remained silent for a long time.
Shen Qingci has been living in the Prince's Mansion for nearly three months.
Her daily life remained regular: she would get up at dawn to help Aunt Li pick vegetables and start a fire, and in the afternoon she would embroider and read books in the house, occasionally going to the study in the main courtyard to help Zhao Bozong grind ink.
She had tied seventy-six knots in the scraps of fabric on her sewing kit.
Shen Qingci was unaware that the Shen family of Xiuzhou had sent someone to inquire. Zhao Bocong hadn't told her, nor had Qin Keqing.
All she knew was that life in this palace was quiet and long, like a summer that would never end.
Qin Keqing knocked on Shen Qingci's door on the evening of July 12th.
"Miss Shen, the Empress Dowager will be returning to the palace in a few days, and the whole city will be very lively." She placed a newly bought package of silk thread on Shen Qingci's table. "If you want to go out and have a look, I'll go with you."
Shen Qingci looked up at her, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Miss Qin, aren't you busy today?"
"I'm not busy today."
Shen Qingci took the silk thread, bent down to straighten the loose ends, and suddenly asked, "Miss Qin, when the Empress Dowager returns, will His Highness come to the palace?"
"Yes, all members of the imperial clan must go to the palace to receive the emperor."
Shen Qingci's fingers paused on the silk thread. She didn't ask any further questions, but a very faint shadow appeared in her eyes.
Qin Keqing could see through that shadow; she was worried.
"Miss Shen," Qin Keqing sat down opposite her, her tone gentler than usual, "His Highness will be alright. He knows better than any of us how to survive."
Shen Qingci nodded without looking up.
On the third day of the eighth lunar month, Consort Wei's carriage arrived in Lin'an.
From the hour of Mao (5-7 AM) on this day, both sides of the Imperial Street were filled with people.
The patrol soldiers in Lin'an Prefecture were stationed every three steps, stretching from Yongjin Gate all the way to Lizheng Gate, the main gate of the imperial city. Behind each patrol soldier stood a plainclothes inspector.
All the shops on both sides of the Imperial Street were closed, but the red lanterns in front of the shops stretched for a whole mile.
The people of Lin'an crowded behind the patrolling soldiers, craning their necks to look towards the city gate.
Zhao Bocong stood in the imperial clan's ranks, positioned on the east side of the imperial road inside the Lizheng Gate.
He was dressed in the royal robes of the county, wearing a seven-tassel crown on his head and a jade sword hanging at his waist.
This was a spot he had carefully chosen; it wasn't too close to the throne, but it offered a perfect view of the Empress Dowager's carriage entering the Lizheng Gate.
Zhao Shi stood to his left, the white-bearded Grand Master of Ceremonies leaning on a peach wood staff, squinting at the city gate, muttering to himself.
Qin Hui stood on the west side of the imperial road, followed by high-ranking officials from the Three Departments and Six Ministries.
Today he was wearing court robes, but the purple gauze over his robes had been replaced with crimson, and a goldfish pouch was tied around his waist. His expression was solemn and dignified, like the master of this welcoming ceremony.
However, Zhao Bocong noticed that his fingers, which were gripping the tablet tightly, had turned slightly white from the force.
The imperial carriage entered Lizheng Gate at 3:45 AM.
First to enter the city was the honor guard of the Japanese army, with sixty-four cavalrymen leading the way in two rows, their horses' hooves clattering in unison on the newly paved bluestone slabs.
Next came the coffin of Emperor Huizong, a huge nanmu coffin carried by thirty-two strongmen, covered with bright yellow satin embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon.
As the coffin passed by, all the members of the imperial family and officials on both sides of the imperial road knelt down, their cries shaking the heavens.
Zhao Bozong knelt in the crowd, his forehead touching the bluestone ground, but his peripheral vision kept staring at the phoenix carriage behind the coffin.
The curtains of the imperial carriage were plain white. According to the palace regulations of the second year of the Shaoxing era, the Empress Dowager's carriage should have used bright yellow curtains, but Consort Wei insisted on using plain white.
She had been a hostage in the Five Kingdoms City for sixteen years, and returned as a widow. The plain white curtains swayed gently in the August morning breeze, revealing half of the sleeve of the person in the carriage.
Bluish-gray, coarse cloth texture.
Zhao Bozong's brow furrowed slightly. An empress dowager was dressed in coarse cloth in her carriage on her way back to the palace.
This is not a coincidence; it is a statement.
The moment Consort Wei entered Lin'an, she was telling everyone that she hadn't come back to enjoy a life of luxury.
The imperial carriage stopped in the middle of the imperial road.
Shao Chengzhang stepped forward, lifted the curtain, and stretched out his arm.
A hand emerged from behind the curtain and rested on Shao Chengzhang's arm. The hand was very thin, and every finger was so rough that it didn't seem like someone who lived deep in the palace.
Consort Wei bent down and stepped out of the imperial carriage.
She was shorter than Zhao Bozong had imagined. When she looked at people, it was as if she were examining a pile of old objects—cautious, calm, and devoid of superfluous emotion.
She was carrying an ebony box in her left hand.
The box was small, only slightly larger than the palm of your hand, with silver-plated corners and a half-open lotus flower carved on its surface.
Consort Wei's fingers were on the box; she did not hand it over to anyone.
When Lian Shaocheng reached out to help her lift it, she simply shook her head and didn't let go.