Lantern Festival

When the osmanthus tea had cooled and the lamp wick burned out, the three departed in silence. Every morning, Zhang Ling would drive his carriage alone to Falling Sunset Cave, but for several days he saw no sign of Song Linjie and wondered what the boy was up to. At dawn, Zhang Ling returned from the cave; the brocade jade avenue was even more crowded than in daylight. After returning the carriage, Zhang Ling hurried to the Clear River, which ran through the city. People were kneeling along the banks, lighting and launching lanterns onto the water—seen from afar, they resembled shimmering fireflies drifting across the surface. It was a rare scene of a thousand homes aglow, second only to the New Year. Even the cheapest candles cost several coins each, and ordinary families could scarcely afford to keep their lamps burning all night.

Zhang Ling wove through the crowd and headed straight for the tea house they had agreed on. Inside, the lights were bright, and many guests idly sat about. His gaze soon found Yu Wanqing’s table; besides her, Song Linjie and Yu Lianwu were also present. Zhang Ling joined them, and the Yu siblings exchanged formal greetings with him, while Song Linjie casually raised his cup for a solitary drink.

Zhang Ling sniffed, catching the scent of wine, and remarked, “Drinking wine in a tea house—you truly are unrestrained. Shouldn’t you at least respect their business?”

Song Linjie pointed to the tea house owner behind the counter, whose face was bruised, prompting the others to laugh. Yu Lianwu poured himself a cup, smiling, “Grandfather Gu told me you two managed to get into Falling Sunset Cave. Entering the academy is surely the next step. Let me congratulate you both in advance.”

Yu Lianwu drained his cup. Song Linjie took the wine pot and returned the gesture, while Zhang Ling, not wanting to drink, requested tea from the owner. He and Yu Wanqing toasted with tea instead.

Zhang Ling smiled, “And I wish you smooth sailing on your official path, Brother Yu.”

After their toast, Yu Lianwu rose, saying, “Linjie, Zhang Ling, wait here. I’ll take my sister to buy some lanterns.”

He left the table, and Yu Wanqing followed, smiling shyly as she walked beside her brother.

The Yu siblings strolled down the bustling Brocade Jade Street, bypassing several scattered shops, and entered a lantern store. Lantern vendors lined the streets, but those of their status preferred to buy quality oil-paper lanterns. The clearest lamp oil soaked the paper best, making the light vivid. The finest tung oil, carefully temperature-controlled and infused into creamy paper, then sun-dried repeatedly, produced nearly translucent oil-paper. Such lanterns, when observed closely, shone uniquely—their wicks illuminating the paper. Even a lantern of six or seven inches could cost dozens of silver taels; most wealthy families wouldn’t dare indulge, but this shop they entered had lanterns for several silver taels apiece.

While Yu Wanqing selected lanterns, Yu Lianwu quietly asked, “What do you think of Zhang Ling, little sister?”

She held a lantern, her cheeks suddenly flushed, and replied softly, “He’s modest and courteous, talented and accomplished—a rare and remarkable youth.”

Yu Lianwu leaned over with playful intent, “Ah! Such a hero, though born to a merchant, is worthy of my sister. But I wonder if my high-minded sister would accept him?”

Yu Wanqing blushed and protested, “Brother!”

Yu Lianwu laughed heartily, “Zhang Ling has only been in the capital a short while. He may not have done anything earth-shattering yet, but Father has already given his approval. He merely hoped you’d marry into a prosperous family for a comfortable life, so if you like him, there’s no need to be reserved.”

Hearing her brother’s words, Yu Wanqing was at a loss. Yu Lianwu gently reassured her, “It’s all right. Talk to him more when you get the chance. Father and I won’t force you.”

Night had not fully fallen, but the entire Brocade Jade City was already ablaze beneath the starry sky. Someone stood atop a mountain, taking in the splendor at a glance. Others should have been within the palace walls, unable to see the prosperity but able to feel it. On such lively festivals, he would climb the mountain with a robust, sword-bearing elder to gaze at the city’s brilliance. Though he held the highest position, he disliked strategizing from afar; he preferred what he could see and touch, finding it more real and reassuring.

He wore imperial yellow robes and was the ruler of the nation, middle-aged but lacking the vitality of the elder beside him. He brought no attendants, for on this mountain, not even an army could reach them.

The man from Chenliu had a rosy complexion but a weary soul. Looking out over Brocade Jade City, he spoke calmly, “War rages, the masses unite, and people seek happiness—none of this is wrong. Yet some are like maggots on the bone, eager to devour flesh and skin alike.”

He pointed out several places, continuing, “A few vermin—if only we had proof of their crimes. Direct confrontation might not suffice to root them out. If only the Grand General were here, I would have no qualms about trampling Brocade Jade City again, even at the cost of some royal dignity.”

The sword-bearing elder asked, “Does Your Majesty have a plan?”

Chenliu hesitated, then replied gravely, “I do, but it requires a special person’s involvement.”

The elder responded, “Someone with a clean background and considerable status—a student of the academy would suffice, but they’re not suitable. If they failed, Your Majesty couldn’t protect them, and it would force them to oppose those they shouldn’t offend. They’d refuse. The best candidate is someone already a mortal enemy of those people. As I recall, General Mingze once had a foster son taken as a disciple by the master of Medicine King Valley. He might do, and the world doesn’t know his connection to General Mingze.”

Chenliu shook his head, “Medicine King Valley is a burden to him. As the revered sage of medicine, I couldn’t exploit him.”

He sighed, “What the Grand General could easily achieve, why is it so difficult for me?”

The elder explained, “As you said, Your Majesty—you have your own concerns.”

Chenliu gazed for a while longer, then said with relief, “Enough, let’s not discuss state affairs on such a rare, splendid night. I notice the academy is rather quiet; it seems its students have joined the festivities.”

The elder smiled, “After all, they’re not immortals untouched by earthly delights. A group of youths, always passionate. But I’ve warned them: don’t flaunt your academy status when out in the city.”

Suddenly, the elder drew his long sword and slashed at the air. Two dark figures fell swiftly, landing somewhere in the mountains. A young man, also sword-bearing, sped down the mountain, his form light and soon vanished.

Chenliu asked calmly, “Which faction do you think sent them?”

The elder thought for a moment before answering, “The Prime Minister’s residence may be dissatisfied with Your Majesty, but they wouldn’t stoop to such acts. I suspect someone is slandering them.”

Cold winds blew across the mountain, but a force shielded the two men, their hair unmoved. Minutes later, a figure raced up from below, tossing the two lifeless bodies at their feet, then bowed and departed.

The elder crouched and searched, from the fabric of their clothes to tokens on their bodies—all pointed to the Prime Minister’s residence. He wondered aloud, “So blatant—could it be a frame-up?”

Chenliu replied with certainty, “No.”

The elder stood, speaking gently, “It seems the Prime Minister truly harbors resentment toward Your Majesty.”