Chapter 57: The Imprisonment of Tong Palace
Behind the Cold Light Hall of the Great Zhou Imperial Palace, a green bamboo carriage slowly approached. The curtains before the hall gently lifted, and Mo Yu appeared on the stone steps. Starlight fell upon her beautiful face, illuminating her slender brows, bright eyes, and the touching plum blossom makeup between them.
She looked at the two pure white domesticated deer in front of the carriage, raised an eyebrow slightly, appearing somewhat surprised, and asked, "Where's Black Jade?"
That black sheep had already vanished into the pitch-black night, its whereabouts unknown.
Old Madam Ning supported her hand as she descended the stone steps, softly saying, "That little ancestor has gone who knows where."
Mo Yu knew that the black sheep had a somewhat aloof temperament and never listened to anyone in the palace. She shook her head and said, "That's just a child."
Old Madam Ning glanced into the darkness behind Cold Light Hall and thought to herself that he, now standing by the pond with nowhere to go, was also just a child.
Mo Yu knew what she was thinking and said with a hint of mockery, "A little child, spouting harsh, angry words one after another with such flair, yet unaware that in others' eyes, it's just bluster, only adding to the absurdity."
Old Madam Ning said, "This old servant feels that absurd people are often the most endearing."
Months ago, it was Old Madam Ning who had handled Chen Changsheng's entry into the National Academy. When reporting back afterward, Mo Yu knew she held Chen Changsheng in high regard. Now, seeing her insist on speaking well of him, she didn't take offense, because the matter was already settled.
Chen Changsheng couldn't leave that abandoned garden, couldn't appear before the people of Weiyang Palace, and thus couldn't disrupt the engagement between Xu Yourong and Qiushan Jun. By then, all the harsh words he had spoken would turn into jokes, and all his anger would only burn him more painfully.
The green bamboo carriage headed toward Weiyang Palace.
The instructor from the Heavenly Academy had been forced to commit suicide by Zhou Tong's infamous reputation. The Green Vine Banquet still needed a host, especially since the southern delegation to be received tonight included many important figures. The Cardinal of the Ecclesiastical Office and Xu Shiji were in charge of the ceremony. Prince Chenliu represented Her Holiness the Empress on the scene, and Mo Yu herself would make an appearance to show solemnity.
Old Madam Ning supported the window frame of the green bamboo carriage, her left hand resting on the window, still occasionally glancing toward the abandoned garden, a look of pity on her face.
"Granny, rest assured, that little one won't come to harm."
Mo Yu's voice came from inside the green bamboo carriage: "No one can break the restrictions of Black Dragon Pond. Unless someone opens the garden gate from outside, no one has ever left. He'll just stay in the garden and endure some cold wind. Compared to the trouble he's caused, what does that amount to?"
Old Madam Ning thought of the rumor and said worriedly, "What if he stumbles upon a taboo?"
Mo Yu said, "Since it's a taboo, how easily can it be triggered?"
She spoke casually, seeming cold, but Old Madam Ning sensed the fatigue in her voice. Thinking of how even the plum blossom makeup on the girl's brows under the starlight couldn't hide her haggardness on the stone steps earlier, she found it hard to understand why the girl would deplete her true essence to use a secret technique to trap Chen Changsheng.
"Miss, you once promised Miss Yourong that you wouldn't lay a hand on that youth."
"Did I lay a hand tonight? I only moved my lips."
Mo Yu thought of the letter from the south months ago and said irritably, "That dead girl doesn't want to marry him, yet she won't let anyone touch him—no harm, no injury—laying down all these rules. Otherwise, why would it be such a hassle, making me expend so much effort?"
With her terrifying level of cultivation and her fearsome power and status in the Great Zhou Dynasty, she had tens of thousands of ways to deal with a youth like Chen Changsheng, making him suffer unbearably, leaving him with no will to live. Yet because of that letter, she had to go through all this trouble.
The more she thought about it, the more displeased she became. "She points out a broken engagement herself, yet makes me waste my energy. She plays the good person down south while making me the villain. Didn't you hear how that youth cursed me earlier? If not for her, I'd have killed him outright!"
Old Madam Ning said with a smile, "Miss and Miss Yourong are like sisters; a little extra effort is only right."
Mo Yu sneered, "Everyone says Black Jade is the little ancestor, but that phoenix is the real little ancestor. The whole continent thinks she's pure as ice, clever as snow, carved from jade, but they don't know she's a petty one. No one can afford to offend her. If she's truly unhappy, she'll do anything. I'm not helping her out of sisterly affection—I'm worried that if her mood sours and she really doesn't marry Qiushan Jun, what then?"
Old Madam Ning comforted her, "Fortunately, once tonight is over, there's nothing more to worry about."
The carriage curtain lifted slightly. Mo Yu looked toward the abandoned garden behind Cold Light Hall, and the cold pond hidden by the autumn trees and old walls. Thinking of Chen Changsheng's words, she wondered if tonight would truly pass smoothly. Why did he have to be locked up here? What was the Saintess thinking?
...
...
After those mocking words, Mo Yu's voice never sounded again. Chen Changsheng stood alone in the abandoned garden, the cold pond before him, the plum trees beside him. His figure no longer seemed as lonely as before, as if his body had been refilled with strength.
Confirming that Mo Yu had left, he began to walk forward, past the solitary plum trees to the pond's edge, where a biting chill greeted him.
The abandoned garden was clearly much colder than the rest of the palace, the reason being this cold pond before him. He carefully observed the surface of the cold pond, letting the chill layer upon layer on his face until frost began to form on his brows.
It wasn't self-torture, but a way to use the environment to calm himself. He didn't want to waste time on negative emotions like anger—though the words he had spoken to Mo Yu earlier really did sound like childish, useless harsh words, seemingly the opposite of calm. But he had said them anyway.
Among the three thousand great paths, he cultivated the path of following one's heart. Follow the heart's intent, live by the heart's intent. When heaven and earth wouldn't let him follow his heart, he had to find a way to make his heart smooth. Only by following the heart could he achieve true peace, and peace was the highest state of calm.
Of course, he didn't want his words to become jokes. He had to leave the abandoned garden and reach Weiyang Palace. Before leaving the National Academy, he had made arrangements, but since those big shots could trick Luoluo away from Weiyang Palace, he couldn't place all his hopes on her.
How could he leave this abandoned garden? In truth, he had no clue at all. Yet he had still spoken those words to Mo Yu, just as he had told Tang Thirty-Six and Luoluo that he would participate in the Grand Examination and take first place.
With no reason and no apparent possibility, he could say it calmly and naturally, as if it were only right. That inexplicable confidence amazed and impressed those close to him, while outsiders naturally saw it as delusional and utterly ridiculous.
Only he understood that this confidence came from necessity. Early next year, he had to take part in the Grand Examination and win first place, so he would surely succeed—otherwise, he would die. Tonight, he had to leave the abandoned garden and appear at Weiyang Palace, so he would surely manage it.
Must do it, so he could do it. Before that, he had to believe he could do it, so his heart could follow its intent.
Again, that same phrase: Among the three thousand great paths, he only cultivated the path of following one's heart.
Everything he had done since leaving Xining and arriving in the capital was closely tied to these three words.
Because only by following the heart could one defy fate.
...
...
Looking around the abandoned garden—old walls, autumn trees, withered lotus remnants on the pond, piles of last year's petals under the plum trees untouched by the wind—the scenery was unfamiliar, yet it felt as if he had seen it somewhere.
He hadn't traveled ten thousand miles, so how could he have seen much scenery?
But he had read ten thousand books, traveling ten thousand miles through them, seeing many sights.
Deeply imprinting the surroundings of the abandoned garden in his mind, he sat cross-legged by the pond, closed his eyes, calmed his spirit, and began to recall the books he had read.
There were Daoist scriptures, travelogues, essays from literary masters of past dynasties, and novels of ghosts and strange tales.
Books he had read in the old temple of Xining Town, and books he had read in the library of the National Academy.
He sat by the pond, eyes tightly shut, yet countless books flipped through his mind.
The cold wind seemed to know characters, turning the pages until they stopped at the ones he wanted to see.
Those pages had pictures and annotated text.
"Records of the Southern Bough"
"Treatise on the Origins of Various Halls"
"Array Classifications and Nests"
...
...
Chen Changsheng opened his eyes, stood up, and looked around the abandoned garden again.
The garden was still the same garden, the pond still the same pond, but now in his eyes, it was completely different.
The dozen or so plum trees scattered by the pond seemed unrelated, without deeper meaning, but the scenery remained the same through the seasons, unchanging, leaving only the trees to shift.
The edges of the cold pond were rugged with rocks, unbroken in the middle, while the outer old wall of the abandoned garden was broken on the south side of the pond. There seemed to be a path into the night, but he knew it wasn't an exit—just an unfinished stroke.
Those dozen plum trees, here, vaguely stood in a line.
This formed the character "same."
"Records of the Southern Bough" told a story, "Array Classifications and Nests" had a picture, and "Treatise on the Origins of Various Halls" described a palace from a previous dynasty that had been burned down.
That palace was called Tong Palace.
The Tong Palace where an emperor was imprisoned to death.
Also a formation created by a certain Pope with a lifetime of cultivation.
Chen Changsheng recognized this abandoned garden and this cold pond. But what could he do?
Unless he reached the legendary Saint realm, it was impossible to forcefully break through this Tong Palace.
Of course, every palace had a door, and every formation had to leave a sliver of life.
But from ancient times to the present, no one had ever dared to leave through the life gate of Tong Palace.
Because years ago, outside the Tong Palace that had been burned to ashes, death guarded the door. Inside, one could barely cling to life, but leaving meant certain death.
Because fortune and misfortune were intertwined; the so-called sliver of life was often a place of death.
Chen Changsheng knew where the life gate of Tong Palace was.
Where the wind rises and the water stirs.
Where the night wind rises but hasn't fully formed, and the water's momentum gathers but hasn't yet surged.
He looked at the cold pond before him, silent.
The solemn, dignified sounds of ritual music came from beyond the abandoned garden, from Weiyang Palace.
The southern delegation had already taken their seats, and guests from both sides had all arrived.
He stopped thinking and walked directly into the cold pond.