Chapter 137: The Fire of the Divine Palace (Part Five)

Serving as an imperial guard in the palace had its prestigious side, but it also came with unspoken miseries, chief among which was the awkward predicament every festive holiday brought.

Being on duty during holidays was a wretched chore. Even with the strict military discipline of the Eastern Capital's Thousand-Bulls Guard, there was no shortage of grumbling and complaining. Quan Ce’s duty schedule had been personally seen to by Hou Sizi, arranged entirely for the morning shift. With only a four-hour watch before being relieved, he naturally was spared such annoyances.

Filled with profound empathy, he had traded shifts with a comrade who was jumping with anxiety. Naturally, it was not for the fifteenth day of the first month; had he dared to stand watch on this night, he feared his family would nag him to death. Instead, the trade was for the sixteenth, shifting from the daylight hours of the morning to the deep of night. That particular comrade supposedly needed to meet his betrothed on the night of the sixteenth. The story was told with such elaborate detail that many of the other guards scoffed—any maiden on the street could potentially be a bride-to-be, and one could think of her and go see her whenever the mood struck; why did it strictly have to be the night of the sixteenth? Their teasing left the man blushing furiously.

Quan Ce, however, believed the tale and generously agreed, thereby earning himself quite a reputation for chivalrous loyalty.

On the night of the fifteenth day of the first month, the Lantern Festival, a hazy, full moon hung over Tianjin Bridge on the Luo River, while the earth below gleamed with brilliant illumination.

The bridge was adorned with lifelike lanterns shaped like various living creatures, irregularly punctuating the balustrades and the deck. Down on the Luo River, hundreds of floating water-lily palace lanterns drifted aimlessly with the current, creating a picturesque and dazzling scene. Most distinctive of all were the circular colored lanterns floating high in mid-air, said to contain burning red candles inside, making them exceptionally costly.

Because Empress Wu was scheduled to make a personal appearance, bailiffs from the Luoyang municipal government had cordoned off the areas surrounding Tianjin Bridge into several zones, forming human walls of officers to keep them separated. Princes, dukes, and high-ranking dignitaries naturally occupied the spaces closest to the bridgehead; officials of various ranks were stationed somewhat further back, followed by local gentry and influential clans. The area actually allotted for the common people to move about was situated a hundred paces away—so far that even walking on stilts would not afford them a glimpse of the Empress's revered countenance.

Thanks to its two imperial princesses, the Estate of the Princess Yiyang had been allocated a rather broad-view section, furnished with four floor mats and a small low table bearing tea and pastries—exceedingly spartan. Turning to look at the neighboring Estate of the Princess Gao'an, one saw only two floor mats without even a small table. Princess Gao'an, however, cared little for such trifles and occupied herself by guiding Quan Zhu and Quan Luo to point out the lanterns. Wang Xu, who had accompanied them, was a different story altogether. Devoid of any festive joy, his eyes stared straight ahead toward the elevated section at the upper end—the reserved seating of the Estate of the Princess Taiping, which was enclosed on three sides like a luxurious and exquisite private pavilion.

Aside from Princess Taiping, the seating areas assigned to the princes and nobles of the Wu clan were similarly spacious and grand, their furnishings and layouts revealing meticulous craftsmanship at every turn. A look of such intense gloom hung on Wang Xu's face that dark water seemed ready to be wrung from it.

Quan Ce sighed silently. A gentle touch grazed his back, and turning his head, he found his mother, Princess Yiyang. A serene smile touched her lips as she gestured toward a colored lantern that had drifted close to the bank with the wind. "Dalang, was this wild notion of yours?"

Quan Ce smiled and nodded, turning to sit beside her as he began to show off his creation. "Mother, the candles inside these colored lanterns are specially made to emit very little heat. If you use a better grade of candle, these lanterns can ascend continuously, flying all the way up into the heavens. If you harbor any wish, you can let the lanterns convey your words to the skies above, and your desire is certain to be fulfilled."

Princess Yiyang simply gazed at him without a word. Rather than entrusting her wishes to a colored lantern, she would sooner place them in her son.

"If there truly is such a fine novelty, shouldn't Dalang also show his filial piety by offering one to his maternal aunt?" Princess Taiping’s cool, detached voice rang out. The laughter and chatter in the immediate vicinity and all around ceased instantly. She was surrounded by a cloud of attendants, with subordinate officials from every relevant government office in attendance—a display of extraordinary majesty and imposing presence.

"Your subject Quan Ce pays his respects to Her Royal Highness Princess Taiping." Quan Ce bowed deeply, and everyone else rose with him. Seniority had its order; since both Princess Yiyang and Princess Gao'an were older than she, even with her exalted status, formal obeisance from them was out of the question.

Princess Taiping arched a brow, her phoenix eyes flashing with suppressed coldness. Subduing her irritation with effort, she lowered her gaze slightly and said, "Greetings to you all. Quan Ce, follow me."

With a flick of her wide sleeves, she departed directly, surrounded by her retinue.

Quan Ce offered a reassuring glance to his mother, bade a brief farewell to his relatives, and trailed in the footsteps of Princess Taiping.

"Quan Ce, how has this palace treated you?" Princess Taiping halted her attendants and walked on alone along the river embankment. Wherever she went, bailiffs cleared a pathway of their own accord, allowing her to stroll at leisure while the common folk on either side cheered and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of this favored daughter of heaven.

"Your Highness has shown me boundless care and favor, and your subject etches this deep within his heart," Quan Ce replied cautiously.

The corner of Princess Taiping’s mouth twitched upward in a slight, cold snort. "A man's words... I do not believe them. Come, the Empress Mother is about to arrive."

Quan Ce bowed in acknowledgment, casting a distant glance back at the seating area of the Princess Yiyang's estate with a trace of regret. Compared to the pursuit of power and influence, there were times when he longed far more for days spent gathered quietly with his family.

Surrounded by a throng of marquises, generals, and statesmen in the retinue of Empress Wu, Quan Ce's status relegated him to the outermost periphery, where he stood silently as a mere backdrop.

The Lantern Festival celebration shared with the populace began with lavish court songs and dances, followed by folk variety performances. Afterward, the palace distributed strings of coins and festive pastries, which were handed out among the common people. Empress Wu walked to the center of Tianjin Bridge, raised her cup to toast the assembled ministers, and accepted the congratulations and homage of her subjects.

As the festivities drew toward a close, tumultuous billows surged in the waters of the Luo River, bubbling up vigorously as if a divine spring were erupting. Out from the depths rose a golden lotus platform, upon which a blood-red image of the Buddha sprang into view. Towering over two hundred feet tall, it slowly rotated in all directions upon the lotus pedestal, allowing the surrounding populace to behold it clearly. Afterward, the lotus pedestal seemed to ride the empty wind, drifting smoothly toward Tianjin Bridge and coming to a steady halt directly before Empress Wu.

Quan Ce cocked his ear to listen. The sounds of splashing water and clanking iron chains rang out intermittently from beneath the surface; heaven only knew how many laborers were toiling away underwater to produce this artificial miracle.

"Long live the Empress! Long live the Empress!" The common people, ignorant of the mechanical trickery behind the spectacle, found this manifestation far more thrilling than court dances or festive treats. Their thunderous cheers rose like rolling mountains and crashing seas, setting the waters of the Luo River into motion.

Empress Wu raised both hands high, glowing like the bright sun in the dark night—unique and peerless, casting her radiance across the four quarters.

"Quan Ce, you have always been known for your quick wit. Witnessing this scene, do you have a couple of lines to add to the jubilation for Us?" Standing at the bridgehead with one hand seemingly embracing the sun and moon and the other wielding the cosmos, the Empress stood alone against heaven and earth.

Quan Ce stepped forward, bowing deeply with his back curved, striving not to draw undue attention. "Your subject hears no cries of subjugating homage, but sees only that the place where Your Majesty stands is soaring and majestic to the extreme. Therefore, I recall a fragment of verse: 'To mount the very summit's crest, and see all other mountains dwarfed beneath the rest.'"

"Hahaha! Ha-ha-ha-ha! Splendid! We stand upon the very summit's crest, and view all other mountains dwarfed beneath Us!" Empress Wu cast her head back in hearty laughter that carried far into the distance. The common folk merely witnessed the unrestrained grandeur of their sovereign, but the assembled ministers heard the implication clearly; even one as stubborn as Wang Xu was forced to bow his head in submission.

With her laughter subsiding, the Empress stepped forward to admire the Buddha image. Xue Huaiyi seized the moment from close by to chime in, "Your Majesty, this was crafted by your subject, who pierced his own knees and smeared it with his blood."

A mere smile crossed the Empress's face, her eyes holding a trace of approval. Glancing away, she noticed a few strands of water weeds clinging to the lotus platform and her brows knitted slightly. On the other side, Shen Nanmiu hurried forward, reaching out to brush them away. Slightly careless, he pricked his finger on a sharp metal frame, and a drop of fresh blood splashed onto the Buddha statue.

Shen Nanmiu immediately dropped to his knees to plead guilty, though a sinister smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

On the Buddha image, human blood and the painted details stood in stark, undeniable contrast—one side vivid and coagulated, the other dark red and bleeding outward.

A sharp glint flashed in Empress Wu’s eyes before vanishing just as quickly. She waved a hand to bid Shen Nanmiu rise, let out a faint sigh, and swept her gaze over Xue Huaiyi with an unreadable complexity of emotion.

"The Duke of Eguo has shown great devotion. Prepare the carriage for the return to the palace." Her tone was neither warm nor cold, yet carried the chill of a thousand miles away.

A shiver racked Xue Huaiyi’s entire body.

As Shen Nanmiu walked past him, he offered a low, faint chuckle. Though the sound was soft, it struck Xue Huaiyi’s ears like a booming bronze bell.

Darkness clouded his vision; he felt as though the entire world was fluttering with mocking and derisive gazes.

Shaking his head violently, he turned his gaze toward Quan Ce.

Quan Ce was looking at him too, shaking his head with an expression of weary powerlessness and utter incomprehension. Quan Ce took a small step in his direction, then stopped abruptly, turning instead to join his family. Lifting little Quan Luo into his arms, he gradually faded into the distance amidst the crisp sounds of childish laughter.

Xue Huaiyi stumbled a few steps backward, leaning heavily against a bridge pier. His foot kicked over a water-lily lantern, and the escaping flame caught his monk's robe. Tearing the garment off in a frenzy, he swung it in wide arcs to beat it against the ground. Though the fire was already extinguished, he continued to flail and beat the cloth unceasingly, roaring aloud like a trapped beast.