Chapter 101: Hundred Herbs Garden Nostalgia
Chen Changsheng walked up to the middle-aged woman and clasped his hands in greeting.
Seeing that the visitor was not Luoluo, he did not turn and leave immediately because he recognized this middle-aged woman.
That night of the Green Vine Banquet, he was sent by Moyu to the bottom of the Black Dragon Pool, and only after an extremely perilous struggle did he escape, emerging on the surface in a pond. This middle-aged woman had been by the pond at that time, either about to wash her hands or her clothes, and was nearly injured by a mischievous squirrel.
He was well aware that the light in the Hundred Herbs Garden was unlikely to mean Luoluo had returned, but seeing that it was indeed not her, he still felt a trace of disappointment.
Gazing at the pitch-black autumn forest around him, he was momentarily dazed, thinking: Since this middle-aged woman is from the palace, how did she end up in the Hundred Herbs Garden? Judging by her age, she should be a female official in the palace. If she were a consort of the late emperor, then this matter would be somewhat troublesome.
He grew cautious, walked up to the middle-aged woman, and gestured with his hands to ask a couple of questions. Worried about startling her, he tried to keep his expression calm and his sign language movements slow and gentle, to avoid provoking her.
He asked her how she had come out of the palace.
The middle-aged woman looked at him quietly without answering.
Chen Changsheng paused, then gestured again, this time even more slowly. He believed the meaning was clear enough: How did you get from the palace to this place?
The middle-aged woman smiled, raised her right hand, and between her fingers was a key.
Chen Changsheng’s eyesight was good. Despite the dim light in the Hundred Herbs Garden, he could make out the rust on the key and two fresh scratches, likely just made. It seemed this old key had not been used for a long time before tonight.
When Moyu left the National Academy that day, he had seen that old door on the palace wall. Could this key be for that door? Did this middle-aged woman also have the authority to enter and leave the palace freely? If so, her status in the palace must be quite high.
The middle-aged woman pointed to the stone table, indicating he should sit.
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and then sat down as instructed.
The middle-aged woman turned and gazed toward a wooden hut deep in the Hundred Herbs Garden, remaining silent for a long time. Suddenly, her left hand fell on the stone table and tapped it lightly twice.
On the table was a pot of tea, behind an oil lamp, along with two teacups.
Chen Changsheng understood her intention. He picked up the teapot, filled a teacup, and respectfully handed it to the middle-aged woman.
The tea in the pot was not fragrant but was very rich, likely aged dark tea.
Sitting across the table, he could see more clearly. Given her appearance, the middle-aged woman was unlikely to be a consort of the late emperor. She might be one of the female officials serving Her Holiness the Empress, perhaps even the head of the female officials. But Chen Changsheng’s respect for her had nothing to do with her possible status; it was simply because she was much older than him.
He believed that the length of one’s life was a very important matter. Like the dark tea in the cup, the older it was, the more fragrant and valuable it became, and the more one could savor from it. He regretted that he himself would find it difficult to experience the passage of years, so he held special respect for the elderly and valued hierarchy and ethics.
The middle-aged woman lifted the teacup, brought it to her lips, and took a gentle sip.
Chen Changsheng noticed that compared to ordinary women, her lips were much thicker, appearing very strong.
Staring at a woman’s lips, even if she was much older and plain-looking, was still very impolite. He came to his senses and quickly averted his gaze, then noticed the remaining teacup on the stone table.
In the dead of night, with the autumn garden empty, why were there two teacups?
He looked at the middle-aged woman and gestured to ask if he could have some tea. He had sweated a lot earlier while treating Ouyang Po’s injuries and was now quite thirsty.
The middle-aged woman did not look at him but nodded slightly, which should have been her consent.
Chen Changsheng picked up the teacup and took a sip. He found the tea broth rich and smooth, moistening his heart and soul. It was a rare and excellent tea. Even the famous teas Luoluo had presented to him recently could not compare to this seemingly coarse dark tea in the pot.
The flavor of tea depended not only on the quality of the leaves but, most importantly, on the person who brewed it.
Someone who could brew such a pot of dark tea was naturally extraordinary.
Chen Changsheng’s gaze toward the middle-aged woman grew even more respectful.
He set down the teacup and waited for her to speak.
But even as the starlight settled to the bottom of the cup, the middle-aged woman made no indication.
She sat quietly by the table, gazing at the branches, flowers, and grass in the Hundred Herbs Garden. Her eyes seemed devoid of any emotion, yet they held countless feelings.
It was just that he was not part of them.
Chen Changsheng felt a bit awkward and nervous, unaccustomed to this silent sitting together.
As time passed, he gradually adapted to the atmosphere. He stopped thinking and poured tea for the middle-aged woman and himself, then drank in silence, listening to the last insects chirping in the autumn garden. His heart gradually calmed, and he even began to feel intoxicated.
It was only then that he remembered he had always liked quiet and was used to silence.
He didn’t like talking; it had been that way since childhood.
But after arriving in the capital, whether at the Eastern Imperial General’s Mansion or the abandoned garden of the palace, facing Madam Xu, Shuang’er, and Miss Moyu, he had spoken a lot for various reasons. After Tang Thirty-Six came to the National Academy, he was no longer as sparing with words as when they first met, revealing his talkative nature, and Chen Changsheng had to keep up with the conversation.
This had made him feel very tired.
No one had ever stipulated that two people sitting together had to talk.
Just sitting quietly like this was fine.
If occasional communication was needed, there was no need for words; just gestures would do. That was also fine.
He felt as if he had returned to Xining Town, by the stream behind the old temple. He and Senior Brother Yuren, under the starlight, quietly read the Daoist scriptures and medical texts. When they encountered something unclear, they would gesture to each other for discussion, then continue reading in silence.
The stream back then was like the Hundred Herbs Garden now—very quiet, very comfortable.
Xining Town was extremely remote. After nightfall, it was pitch black, but the starlight was very bright, falling to the ground like snow. After arriving in the capital, aside from the complex people living here, what he found hardest to get used to was the nighttime lamplight and the starlight that seemed to have become murky and dim.
Several autumn rains in a row had washed the sky over the capital clean. Moreover, in the Hundred Herbs Garden, aside from the faint oil lamp on the stone table, there was no other light. The lanterns on the nearby palace watchtower were also blocked by the dense forest, and the starlight seemed to have brightened.
Starlight filtered through the tips of the autumn trees, spilling down and landing on his face.
He looked up at the star-filled sky, missing the old temple in Xining Town and his senior brother, but the starlight stung his eyes, making him squint.
Under the silvery glow of the starlight, his brows and eyes were so clean.
Squinting, the childishness he usually hid suddenly emerged.
He was still as amiable as ever, but now with an added touch of cuteness.
Just then, the middle-aged woman withdrew her gaze from the Hundred Herbs Garden and looked at him.
She looked at him quietly.
He squinted, completely unaware, lost in longing and nostalgia.
She stared at him, dazed.
Her longing and nostalgia had just ended, and she could only long and reminisce.
She raised her right hand, gently placed it on his face, and slowly stroked it.
Chen Changsheng was startled. He opened his eyes and looked at the middle-aged woman.
He was very unaccustomed to this kind of physical closeness. He had little experience with it since childhood, and besides, he didn’t even know this middle-aged woman; he had only seen her twice.
He instinctively wanted to pull away, but then he saw her eyes.
Those eyes, like starry lakes, held an incredibly complex mix of emotions, which gradually turned into sorrow and weakness.
Thinking that this middle-aged woman couldn’t speak and had lived for years deep in the palace, having experienced who knows how many sinister and sorrowful things, he couldn’t bear to leave. He let her palm gently move across his face, though the feeling was truly strange.
Her warm and broad palm slowly caressed his face, and his body became very stiff, only relaxing after a long time.
Suddenly, the middle-aged woman pinched his cheek, like an elder teasing a baby.
Chen Changsheng could no longer sit still. He quickly stood up, stepped back two paces, bowed, and said, “I need to go back.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered she was deaf and mute, so he quickly gestured twice.
The middle-aged woman, seeing his intense reaction, burst into laughter.
Her laughter was, of course, silent, but there was a boldness in her movements that made anyone watching know she was laughing heartily. (Note)
Before Chen Changsheng could leave, the middle-aged woman stood up and walked toward the depths of the Hundred Herbs Garden.
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and followed.
The night breeze gently blew, and fallen leaves swirled onto the stone table, circling the teapot and the two teacups.
After waiting twenty years, the teapot, teacups, and the tea stove by the table had finally welcomed their former owner. Who knew how many more years they would have to wait for the next time?
To Chen Changsheng’s surprise, the middle-aged woman did not head toward the National Academy but went straight deeper into the Hundred Herbs Garden. Only when they reached the old, mottled palace wall and saw that old door did he realize that she used a different door than Moyu.
The middle-aged woman paid him no attention and didn’t mind him following. She took out the key, inserted it into the lock, and with two soft clicks, the lock opened. Then a creaking sound cut through the silent night as the old wooden door was pushed open, and she walked inside.
Only then did Chen Changsheng confirm there was nothing wrong. He relaxed, releasing his hand that had been gripping his sword hilt, and looked at the middle-aged woman’s retreating figure. He called out softly, wanting to say something, but the door closed swiftly before his eyes.
Just like that, she left? He was a bit stunned, only feeling slightly relieved when he remembered she couldn’t hear.
The closed wooden door seemed to merge with the palace wall.
He stared at the door, feeling lost.
Was what happened tonight real?
Wasn’t it like those ghost-immortal stories in the Daoist scriptures?
But the slightly astringent yet fragrant taste of tea still lingered on his lips and tongue.
The warm touch of that caress was still on his face.
He shook his head and turned to leave.
On the other side of the door, which Chen Changsheng could not see, was a long, dark passage.
The passage was covered with moss and vines. Beneath the vines were at least six types of formations and traps capable of killing a Star-Gathering realm expert.
The ground of the passage was paved with dry stone bricks.
The middle-aged woman walked slowly forward on the stone bricks, her expression gradually changing.
In just a dozen steps, an indescribable majesty returned to her body.
Her seemingly ordinary face became incredibly beautiful.
Not a fragile beauty, but a dazzling one.
When she walked out of the passage, the scenery around her changed.
Under the night sky, the imperial palace stood majestic and magnificent.
(Originally, there were a few more lines, but they’ve been moved to the next chapter because breaking here is the most aesthetically pleasing. I can never control my obsession with beauty in my writing—the appearance association is truly hopeless. See you tomorrow. Ah, tomorrow is Monday. Please don’t forget to cast your recommendation votes. And check if you have any monthly votes?)