Enlightened Mind

All things renew, old ailments shall heal.

The capital city welcomed the New Year amidst swirling snow and the crackling of firecrackers.

It was the first day of the lunar year, and according to tradition, one had to enter the palace to pay respects to the emperor.

Inside the palace, lanterns were hung everywhere, and palace attendants swept the snow along the avenues. Everyone was dressed in new clothes, their faces radiant with joy.

Octagonal palace lanterns adorned the corridors, painted with dragons and phoenixes, landscapes, flowers and birds, pines and cypresses. Lanterns hung in every corner of the palace and on trees by the lakeside, in a variety of styles—from simple seven-color lanterns and lotus lanterns to elaborate revolving lanterns and lifelike animal-shaped ones. Beneath the lanterns hung riddles for the palace folk to enjoy during the Spring Festival, and for the emperor and empress to admire.

On the vermilion steps before the Palace of Heavenly Purity stood a pair of enormous Longevity Lanterns. The lantern towers were gilded and lacquered, each housing six panels painted with immortal maidens gracefully circling the central pillar, stepping upon clouds and mist, ethereal and fleeting. Below the lantern tower, clouds supported eight crouching dragons, their mouths holding rings from which couplets could be hung. Both sides of the couplets bore inscriptions—sixteen in total—each pair elegantly matched, celebrating peace, prosperity, and auspicious blessings.

Inside the hall stood a large gourd-shaped vase decorated with scroll and floral patterns, symbolizing good fortune and prosperity through a pun. Renowned artists’ paintings depicting New Year celebrations hung about, conveying auspicious meanings.

Xia Yunhe followed behind the ministers, paying respects and presenting gifts.

Emperor Hehui wrote the first “Blessing” character on dragon-patterned paper with his calligraphy brush, placing it on the Palace of Heavenly Purity. He also penned multiple versions of the character “Blessing,” some to adorn other palace chambers, others gifted to senior ministers.

He personally composed numerous spring banners: two-character phrases like “Welcoming Auspiciousness” and “Peace,” four-character inscriptions such as “Harmony and Longevity,” and longer ones reading “Entering the New Year with Endless Joy and Great Fortune.”

At every palace gate hung New Year paintings and potted bonsai—each exquisite and meticulously arranged.

Following these rituals and a bestowed feast, the entire ceremony stretched until dusk.

One by one, palace attendants lit the lanterns, and Emperor Hehui permitted the officials to return home. For next came the emperor’s private family banquet.

Outside the hall, musicians and performers from the Court Music Department waited. When the time came, they would sing and dance, filling the imperial palace with joyous celebration.

Xia Yunhe stepped onto the pathway but was suddenly stopped by a young eunuch, who said the Seventh Prince wished to speak with her.

Puzzled, she followed the little attendant through winding paths, until the boy vanished.

The snow lay thick around the pavilion, with few to clear it, leaving the surroundings desolate and silent.

Alarmed, Xia Yunhe’s heart pounded as she tried to retrace her steps. Passing behind a rockery, she glimpsed the Imperial Noble Consort Wan and Chen Haizhou, alone with no one else nearby.

They stood beneath the rockery; Consort Wan wore a grand crimson spring silk cloak trimmed with sable, her golden hairpins swaying as she smiled warmly. Chen Haizhou was tall and broad-shouldered, his back to Xia Yunhe, but suddenly he turned to face Consort Wan and knelt.

The snow was deep; he knelt straight down, bowing his head so forcefully it left a hollow in the snow.

Consort Wan helped him up with a gentle smile, as if they were old friends.

Sensing danger, Xia Yunhe quietly backed away along her footprints, trying not to make a sound.

The rockery was icy and slippery to the touch, chilling her fingertips red. Reaching a fork in the path, she stopped.

Where before there was only her own trail, now all three paths were crowded with footprints, tangled and confusing.

Surrounded by identical pavilions and silent as a graveyard, she trembled in place.

Suddenly, she recalled this was the “Identical Pavilion,” where three identical pavilions connected by three roads, each indistinguishable. The overlapping rockeries made it impossible to tell which way she had come or where to go.

If she stayed here and encountered Wan and Chen, what would happen?

As dusk deepened, Xia Yunhe lifted her garment’s hem and bit her lip, choosing a path.

She had barely taken a few steps when two young palace eunuchs blocked her way.

From behind came the faint crunch of footsteps on snow.

“Lady Xia, where do you come from? Where are you going?”

She turned to see, by the lantern light held by the eunuchs, the Fourth Prince.

Dressed in a brocade hat and sable robe, he toyed with a small lotus lantern, a faint smile playing on his lips—a serene and elegant mien, though his eyes showed a slight scleral exposure that gave an unsettling impression.

The young eunuch who had guided her earlier stood silently behind the Fourth Prince.

Xia Yunhe bowed according to court etiquette. The Fourth Prince helped her up, smiling, “That servant is dull-witted, couldn’t deliver the message properly nor lead the way right.”

His expression shifted coldly as he said to the little eunuch, “Lady Xia has been found. Go and collect your reprimand.”

After the eunuch left, the Fourth Prince smiled as he led her.

“The palace is busy; Father the Emperor prays for blessings and prosperity, Noble Consort Wan attends to the palace market register, the Crown Prince hosts grand banquets, Fifth Prince is under house arrest, Seventh Prince studies daily, and my two elder sisters take the youngest up the mountain for prayers. Only I have idle time, wandering the palace long enough to know its corners.”

They turned several bends, passing through overgrown branches and untended grounds, until they reached the lakeside of the Imperial Garden.

“Lady Xia, today you’re lucky to have met me. If anyone else had caused you trouble and reported it to Father, it would have brought his wrath, sullying this festive day.”

The Fourth Prince smiled at her as lanterns by the lake ignited, one after another, forming a glowing river winding along the embankment, climbing palace trees, creating a dazzling sea of lights.

He gently hung his small lantern on a treetop, the lights flickering across his face in mottled patterns.

Xia Yunhe remained silent, having pieced together the situation: the Fourth Prince used the Seventh Prince’s name to have her witness Noble Consort Wan and Chen Haizhou’s secret meeting, then led her away. What was his true intent? The palace feast would soon begin—what more did he want?

Having thought it through, Xia Yunhe spoke, “Your Highness, if there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

The Fourth Prince raised his voice slightly, turning to her with a sly smile, “Why rush, Lady Xia? I’m curious—under your guidance, the Seventh Prince’s calligraphy has improved rapidly. I love calligraphy too, and wished to ask you for some tips.”

Seeing her no longer wished to beat around the bush, Xia Yunhe replied straightforwardly, “Your Highness, please speak plainly.”

Recognizing her resolve, the Fourth Prince dropped pretense, signaling a few eunuchs away with a glance, and chuckled, “Do you know who brought the Seventh Prince out of the palace initially?”

Xia Yunhe stood with hands folded, “That matter has been clarified. Why bring it up again, Your Highness?”

The Fourth Prince snorted coldly, stroking his sideburns, fixing her with a sharp gaze, “Is what everyone assumes necessarily the truth?”

Unwilling to be drawn into palace intrigues, she looked away solemnly, “If there is nothing else, I take my leave.”

“Wait, Lady Xia,” the Fourth Prince’s tone turned chilly as he sized her up, tapping her shoulder, “Regarding the Crown Prince’s selection of disciples—you have already offended him. Fifth Prince, though backed by Noble Consort, is foolish. The Crown Prince only needs to provoke him once, and he will go after the Seventh Prince. The Seventh Prince may dodge once, but how many times thereafter?”

Xia Yunhe said nothing, lowering her gaze.

The Fourth Prince sighed, “The palace is like this. Luckily, this summer I will be allowed to leave the palace and establish my own residence, away from this vexing place.”

He tilted his head at her deliberately, then frowned, “But... Lady Xia, why no reaction at all? It’s as if you already knew all this.”

Xia Yunhe gave a faint smile, “Your Highness, one must not speak recklessly.”

“Don’t believe me? Hmph. The Crown Prince has a saying for you: ‘A good bird chooses a tree to perch.’ Though the Seventh Prince works diligently, he lacks maternal clan protection. If you had not chosen him, who in the palace would remember such a person? The incident in Lower River Village was merely the Crown Prince’s small warning.”

“Your Highness, are you the Crown Prince’s envoy?”

The Fourth Prince smiled, plucking his lantern from the tree, “I am just delivering a message. After all, come summer, I will leave the palace. Of course, if Lady Xia is gracious, I know there’s a family-run mutton hotpot that’s excellent. You must come then.”

He paused, then smiled, “Well, it’s fine if you don’t.”

Grasping her shoulder, he leaned close, whispering, “Clear water has no fish; a person who is too discerning has no followers. Lady Xia, sometimes if you do not choose, others will choose for you.”

The Fourth Prince laughed silently, patted her shoulder, and departed with a smile.

Watching him leave, a firework burst overhead. She looked up to see several more blossoms of light blooming in the night sky, their crackling filling her ears and drowning her thoughts.

After a long moment, she rubbed her temples and turned, but stopped in her tracks.

Seventh Prince Xie Yi emerged slowly from behind a tree, wearing rare new clothes finely tailored. Yet his eyes held a hint of ruthlessness, glinting coldly under the myriad palace lights, sending a chill through her.

As he looked at Xia Yunhe, that hard edge in his gaze softened.

A chill ran through Xia Yunhe. She wondered how much the Fourth Prince’s words he had overheard, and asked, “Your Highness, are you heading to the palace feast?”

Xie Yi approached, looking up at her, “Sir, when will I be able to leave the palace and establish my residence?”

The boy’s eyes sparkled faintly. For a moment Xia Yunhe thought she had misread him. After a moment’s thought, she answered, “Princes may establish their own residences at fifteen, with the emperor’s approval.”

He lowered his head, murmuring, “Two more years.”

Then he raised it again, “Sir, military strategy says: ‘Attack directly to engage, use surprise to win. The changes of surprise and directness are boundless like heaven and earth, inexhaustible as rivers and seas.’ This palace, as described in books, is full of schemes, both overt and covert, yet no swords or blades are seen. Noble Consort Wan seems kind, but I once heard her behind the rockery say she fears Father will blame her for the Fifth Prince’s troubles, so she retreats to advance, feigning weakness. Our father has four sons; three elder brothers are self-interested. Now they even compete for your favor. If one day I—”

Xia Yunhe quickly interrupted, “Your Highness, some words once spoken bring disaster. One must be cautious within the palace.”

She glanced around at the brilliant palace lanterns. “Your Highness, what the books describe is only part of the story. The rest you must discern yourself. Like these lanterns—only their light is seen when hung. Take them down and examine their construction, and you understand their complexity. Warfare is like human affairs, endlessly changing yet unchanging. Understand the situation, know the balance of surprise and directness. Do not despair over a strong opponent, nor rejoice in a weak one, lest you fall into passivity. The world is unpredictable; fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Master what you can control to avoid traps. One must not act without strategy, but also not rely solely on it. Strategy and righteousness complement each other: strategy is the tool, the righteous path the foundation. The best warriors achieve victory without grand feats.”

Recalling Xie Yi’s fleeting ruthless glance, she softened her voice, “I hope Your Highness carries benevolence in your heart.”

The loud firework explosions drowned out his words. She saw the youth’s lips move a few times, then he bowed his head into silence.

When the fireworks paused, Xia Yunhe spoke again, “Your Highness, I am somewhat lost. Could you help me find the way out of the palace?”

Xie Yi looked up at her, parted his lips, and all that came out was a single word: “Very well.”