Nine Songs

Chapter 2

Yuan Ji only smiled faintly. Only after the first drop of rain soaked into her clothes did she order her soft couch to be moved back to the palace.

Then, people would come to report from time to time: "The young master's ceremony is over, and he has boarded the carriage to return to the palace."

"When the prince's carriage entered the city, the people along the way gathered on both sides of the road to kneel and kowtow to thank the prince for praying for rain."

"The King has come to the main hall and wishes to summon his ministers to hold a banquet to celebrate the prince's victory."

...

These were all pieces of news that would delight Fu Bo, but Yuan Ji remained calm, as if waiting for something.

Finally, the last news that arrived was devastating: "When the young master arrived at the palace gate and got out of his carriage to change into a sedan chair in preparation for entering the palace, an assassin rushed out from the crowd and attempted to assassinate him!"

Everyone except Yuan Ji exclaimed in surprise, and they all asked, "And then?"

"The situation is unclear... It seems the young master is injured..."

Everyone looked at Yuan Ji with concern. She remained calm and said to Cen Yang, "Mr. Cen, go and see Ping Yi."

Cen Yang accepted the order and left. Yuan Ji looked towards the palace gate, silently shedding two lines of tears.

A palace maid tugged at Fubo's sleeve, signaling her to leave, and whispered, "Let Madam rest."

Fu Bo immediately strode out of the palace and gazed at the farthest point she could reach. In truth, she was also extremely worried and wished she could rush with her father to check on the young master's injuries, completely forgetting that she had not yet served Yuan Ji the medicine for today.

After quite some time, the young master returned. He was still walking with the speed of a bird, so he was probably not seriously injured, but his left arm had been pierced, and bright red blood had soaked half of his wide sleeve. He pursed his lips slightly, looking anxious, and walked like the wind, his destination being his mother's palace.

Fu Bo sensed an unusual emotion on his face and panicked. She followed him at a jog, and before they even entered the palace, she could already hear faint weeping coming from inside.

"Young master, the lady has passed away..." the maidservant said, wiping away tears as she greeted him at the door.

He paused, slowed his pace, and walked slowly in. He looked down at his mother on the sickbed for a long time before gently kneeling down and burying his head in the brocade quilt on the edge of the bed. He didn't make a sound. Fu Bo behind him saw his shoulders trembling slightly.

The assassination attempt on Prince Pingyi and the sudden death of Lady Yuanji became unsolved mysteries. When the assassin suddenly lunged forward, aiming a sword at Pingyi's chest, one of his attendants bravely rushed forward to shield him, blocking the blow. The assassin's subsequent attack only wounded his arm. The remaining attacks were quickly thwarted by arriving guards, but the assassin had already committed suicide before being captured, leaving no one to testify. As for Lady Yuanji, her death was later simply recorded in the history books of the Chu Kingdom as "dying of illness."

"But, Madam just didn't take her medicine on time that day, could she have died like that?" Fu Bo asked her father timidly, fearing that her momentary negligence had caused Yuan Ji's death.

Cen Yang only sighed in response, took her hand, and said, "Daughter, let's go back."

So, Fubo returned with her father to Youhuang Mountain, where flowers bloomed every year. There she spent the last part of her childhood in solitude. During this time, she never saw Prince Pingyi again. She only learned by chance from a guest from the capital that the prince's literary talent and virtue were praised by all the people, and because of his merit in praying for rain, people privately called him "Lord of the Clouds".

II. Mountain Spirit

(to be continued)

II. Mountain Spirit

If there is someone on the mountain slope, draped in ivy and adorned with maidenhair fern.

It's easy to smile at the same time, and I admire you for being so graceful and graceful.

The mountain dweller is like the fragrant Du Ruo, drinking from the stone spring and shaded by pines and cypresses.

...You think of me, yet doubt arises.

—From "Nine Songs: The Mountain Spirit"

The clear, melodious music drifted intermittently from the secluded bamboo grove and the Orchid Pavilion, seemingly harmonizing with the mountain breeze.

Cen Yang followed the music and hurried to the Orchid Pavilion, calling out to the person there: "Fu Bo."

The woman in the pavilion stopped playing the zither, gracefully rose, raised her eyebrows, and asked, "Father?"

The wind ruffled her skirt, making it flutter and dance like three feet of clear water. Cen Yang was slightly taken aback. Seeing her slender figure, he remembered that she was already sixteen years old, and hesitated, wondering if he should still let her do what was originally planned.

She asked again, and finally, Cen Yang said, "Tomorrow morning I will go to the mountaintop to collect a bowl of dew," looking up at his house deep in the bamboo forest on the mountainside, "to prepare to brew medicine."

Fu Bo asked curiously, "Has someone with a serious illness come to our house?"

Cen Yang nodded: "A distinguished person from the capital."

In the five or six years that followed, many things happened in the capital. For example, Prince Qiulang died, and Crown Prince Xuanlian succeeded to the throne. Empress Dowager Yisu was nominally regent, but in reality, she held absolute power. Until this year, Empress Dowager Yisu fell ill, and her condition dragged on for several months without improvement, and instead worsened. At first, when he heard that someone had come from the capital seeking medical help from Youhuang, Cen Yang assumed it was related to Empress Dowager Yisu, but he never expected it to be him.

It was him, surprisingly.

Fu Bo held the prepared medicine, gazing at the man lying on the bamboo couch, as if in a dreamlike trance.

He remained asleep. Yet, the simple cloud pattern on his clothes and the lingering fragrance of his hair, as if he were taking a leisurely nap, his eyes were lightly closed, and he slept peacefully. Even his expression in his illness was impeccable.

She moved slowly closer to him. Long-forgotten memories welled up from the depths of her heart, and because of his light, the first flower bloomed.

Prince Pingyi.

From then on, she gathered dew to brew medicine for him every day, just as she had served his mother in the past. After two days, he gradually regained his senses and drank the medicine himself. When he first saw her face clearly, he was speechless for a moment, staring at her for a long time, and then suddenly smiled: "Miss Cen."

He still remembered her. Fu Bo couldn't help but smile slightly, but only responded softly before bowing her head, tidying up the medicine bowl, and leaving. She was afraid he would catch the joy in her eyes.

She had been paying close attention to his condition. When he first arrived, he was unusually weak, pale and haggard, with dark and bluish lips and nails, as if he had been poisoned. She secretly took a look at the prescription her father had prepared for him, and as she gradually became more knowledgeable about medicine, she could easily tell that the medicine was intended to detoxify him.

So, someone poisoned him. Yuan Ji's symptoms from back then flashed through her mind. She pondered for a long time, then suddenly felt cold.

She took extra care of him, hoping he would recover as soon as possible. However, this put her in the same dilemma as many years ago: once he recovered, she would lose her reason to get close to him again.

That day finally arrived. Her father walked into the pharmacy and said to her as she prepared to decoct the medicine, "There's no need to decoct it anymore; the young master has recovered."

He remained in Youhuang Mountain, but she could no longer bear to see him. In the days that followed, the flowers on Youhuang Mountain, the colorful stones by the stream, the melodious sound of the wind through the bamboo, and the sunset that painted the sky red no longer pleased her. She spent her days holed up in her room, listlessly staring at the bronze mirror, and she fell in love with sighing.

The young maid Xisun chuckled softly, "I know what you're thinking, young lady."

"Pah!" Fu Bo rolled her eyes at Xi Sun: "What nonsense are you going to spout now?"

"If only the young master's illness would never get better!"

Fu Bo stood up, his face flushed, and pretended to hit her. Xi Sun laughed and ran around, dodging as she spoke, "Does the young lady often look in the mirror and wonder: 'Am I beautiful or ugly in the young master's eyes? Am I worthy of him...?'"

Fu Bo was both embarrassed and annoyed, and unable to catch her, he stamped his feet in frustration. Xi Sun turned around, pressed her hand down, and finally managed to stop laughing. She said seriously, "I've noticed that the young master comes down the mountain with his servants every afternoon to stroll along the Ming River. So if you come down the mountain now, wouldn't you be able to 'accidentally' meet the young master?"

Fu Bo was taken aback, but quickly broke free and pinched Xi Sun's mouth hard: "Who told you to come up with such random ideas?"

She remembered Xi Sun's words. She lacked the courage to follow Xi Sun's advice and "encounter" the young master, feeling it would be too frivolous. Besides, she wasn't sure if he would also be pleased to see her. However, after he descended the mountain, she would quietly enter his room, tidy the bamboo slips he had read, wipe the dust from the table, tune the zither he would play, and place the fragrant herbs she had gathered that morning in a vase. Once everything was in order, she would gently sit down, looking at the jade mat with jade ornaments at the four corners, imagining him resting with his head propped up and eyes closed amidst the elegant fragrance of flowers, and a warmth would fill her heart.

She would not forget to leave before his return, so he never saw her.

One morning, she picked *Du Ruo* (a type of wild herb) again in the mountain stream under the forest. The flowers were very small, delicate butterfly-shaped, and unassumingly pure white, yet they had a fragrance that could make one forget all worries. She always loved them and was used to picking several flowers and a few green leaves to make a small ball of flowers, which she would then wear in her hair.

Just as the flowers were reflected in the stream, a figure slowly approached in the water, then stood against the wind, dressed in plain clothes with wide sleeves—a graceful and familiar figure.

She quickly turned and bowed, her voice very weak: "Young Master..."

A gentle smile appeared in his eyes: "Xi Sun said you're here."

"Ah..." she exclaimed in surprise, "Why did she say such things to the young master?"

Ping Yi simply smiled casually: "It's me who wants to know."

Fu Bo lowered his head, his heartbeat becoming erratic.

“I want to thank you,” he said. “You’ve taken care of me for so many days and helped me clean my room, but I’ve never been able to thank you in person.”

After speaking, he bowed solemnly and said, "Thank you, Miss Cen."

Fu Bo blushed as she heard: "So, young master knew..."

Pingyi nodded and said gently, "Every time I smell the fragrance of Du Ruo flowers, I know that you must have been here before."

His tone was gentle, and his casually spoken words conveyed a warmth she felt, a slight comfort, like the first rays of sunlight peeking through the window in the morning. Yet she still dared not look up at him, and her words were barely audible: "If you like this flower, I will have Xisun deliver it to you later."

Now that she knew he had seen through her, it was naturally inconvenient for her to go again. Yi should have understood the implication, but his expression remained unchanged. He didn't say anything about Fu Bo's words, but instead looked at Du Ruo beside him and changed the subject: "Du Ruo must be your favorite flower, Miss?"

Fu Bo agreed, explaining, “This flower has a pleasant fragrance and can also be used in medicine. There are many snakes and insects in the mountains, and I was often stung when I was a child. My father would crush the Du Ruo (a type of medicinal herb) and apply it to the affected area, which would quickly reduce the swelling and remove the poison. That’s why I love it so much, and I pick it every day when the Du Ruo blooms.”

“It has a delicate fragrance and is also beneficial to people,” Pingyi said, looking at Fubo again. “Flowers are like people, no wonder you like it.”

His comparison left Fu Bo, shy and hesitant to respond, but fortunately, a glimpse of a lily in a corner of the valley caught her eye, providing a topic for conversation. "Actually, it's not just Du Ruo that's beneficial; many mountain flowers and herbs also have medicinal properties," she said, feigning ignorance of the comparison between flowers and people, her gaze naturally drawn to the lily. "For example, the lily is sweet, neutral in nature, and non-toxic. It wards off evil spirits and demons, calms the mind, soothes the spirit, strengthens the will, nourishes the five internal organs, and treats heart pain, abdominal distension, epilepsy, and palpitations. If one is afflicted by evil spirits, unable to walk, stand, sit, or lie still, as if possessed by a ghost, then one can soak seven lilies in spring water overnight, change the water to fresh spring water the next morning, add two ounces of Anemarrhena asphodeloides, and boil it into a lily soup. Drinking it in divided doses is extremely effective."

"Oh?" Ping Yi seemed very interested and said with a smile, "Please enlighten me, young lady. I often see red lilies growing in the valley. I wonder how their medicinal effects differ from those of the white ones?"

Fu Bo answered seriously: "The red lily is called Shandan. Its root tastes inferior to that of the white lily, but it also has the effect of treating fright and fright. In addition, it can be crushed and applied to treat boils and malignant swellings."

Ping Yi pointed to the nearby angelica: "Where is this flower?"

Fu Bo smiled and said, "Angelica is very beneficial to women. It can whiten the skin, remove facial scars, and promote blood circulation and replenish blood..." His gaze shifted to Ping Yi's left arm and he added, "After you return to the capital, you may plant some in your residence. This flower can also cure arsenic, snake venom, and residual poison from wounds caused by weapons such as knives and arrows."

Ping Yi nodded: "Thank you for reminding me, Miss... I often see Mr. Cen drinking chrysanthemum decoction. I wonder what is so special about this flower?"

"Chrysanthemums are most suitable for health preservation," Fu Bo replied. "Especially chamomile. Pick its seedlings five days before the third month, called Yu Ying; pick its leaves five days before the sixth month, called Rong Cheng; pick its flowers five days before the ninth month, called Jin Jing; and pick its roots and stems five days before the twelfth month, called Chang Sheng. If you want to preserve your health and prolong your life, take equal parts of the above four ingredients, dry them in the shade, grind them into powder after one hundred days, and take one qian (approximately 3 grams) each time with wine, or make them into honey pills the size of a wutong seed, take seven pills three times a day. After one hundred days, your body will feel light and supple; after one year, your white hair will turn black again; after two years, your lost teeth will grow back; and after five years or more, you can even reverse aging. Even if you just decoct it in water and drink it, it can benefit your blood and qi, treat wind-heat in the head and eyes, edema, malignant sores, nourish your eye blood, and remove pterygium..."

When the topic turned to the medicinal properties of familiar herbs, Fu Bo became very interested and spoke eloquently about Ping Yi's questions. Her initial shyness gradually disappeared, and she became more composed. Ping Yi listened attentively with a smile throughout, occasionally asking her questions. Half a morning passed in a warm and cheerful atmosphere.

Before parting, he suggested that she come back the next day, saying that he still had many questions about flowers and plants to ask her. She happily agreed, but later regretted it slightly, feeling that she had nodded too quickly and that he thought she was being a bit too reserved.

From then on, they met here every morning, still talking about flowers and plants. She spoke with great enthusiasm, and he listened attentively, not caring if anyone saw them. They looked like a teacher and student. He would bow to her from time to time, respectfully thanking her for her guidance. Even when he looked at her with a smile, there was no hint of intimacy in his attitude.

"Aren't you going to talk about anything else?" Xi Sun asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Do you want to talk about anything else?" Upon hearing this question, Fu Bo was quite surprised. "There's no need. It's already very good as it is now."

She smiled again as she spoke. She was content with the status quo and felt that everything was wonderful.

One morning, she went to the mountain stream, where the fragrance of wild osmanthus still lingered. The figure in light robes and flowing sleeves stood by the water's edge, his back to her, his sleeves fluttering in the wind.

"Young Master," she called out softly with delight as she approached him.

He turned around, and her smile froze in astonishment.

He is not himself.

The man appeared to be slightly older than Ping Yi, but their builds were similar, and their faces were also quite handsome. However, his gaze was melancholy, and his unsmiling face carried a cold and aloof air. When he turned around, it was as if a sky full of dark clouds had been swept up.

Fu Bo was stunned for a moment, and without any other reaction, he just stared blankly at the stranger.

Seeing that she was staring straight at him, the man suddenly seemed flustered, hurriedly lowered his head, covered his mouth with his sleeve, and coughed twice to cover his mouth.

Seeing him cover his mouth, Fu Bo then remembered that there was a dark line on his upper lip, and his lip shape was strange, as if his upper lip had been split open and then sewn up... He was horrified to realize that he must have a congenital cleft lip defect, which was later repaired by suturing, but the trace could not be eliminated after all. Therefore, when he saw her staring at him, he suspected that she was looking at his cleft lip and that was why she hurriedly covered it up.

So she lowered her eyes, bowed to him, and prepared to leave.

"Who are you?" he suddenly asked coldly.

Why should I tell you? Fu Bo was displeased and did not intend to answer him. He lowered his head, took two steps back, and turned to leave.

Just then, she saw Pingyi walking briskly towards her. Her eyes lit up with joy, and she was about to call out to him when she saw him walk past her without stopping, go straight to the stranger, pause briefly, then sweep his robe over his chest and kneel down to the man.

"Your Majesty's presence is only now being known to me, and I, your humble servant Pingyi, have failed to greet you from afar. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness." He spoke these words in a gentle tone.