Media vida dedicada a la música y el maquillaje

Capítulo 1

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As the leaves fell and rustled, Lord Xinyang returned from Youhuang Mountain with his jade pendant.

The new ruler of Chu, Tun, personally went out of the city to greet him. After his uncle had performed the rites of a subject to a ruler, Tun straightened his clothes and bowed to him in the manner of a family member.

Lord Xinyang quickly helped him up, and when he looked up, he and Zitun smiled at each other, a glint of light in the corner of their eyes.

Zi Tun inquired about his well-being with concern, and Lord Xinyang responded with a smile, his attitude respectful and his words gentle. Zi Tun invited him to ride in the same carriage back to the palace, but Lord Xinyang repeatedly declined. However, Zi Tun insisted, and finally took his hand and personally led him into the carriage before ordering the journey to begin.

The people of the capital, Mingcheng, came upon hearing the news and waited at the place where the imperial carriage was bound to pass. As the carriage approached, the curtains on the carriage would occasionally be blown aside by the wind, and for a fleeting moment, the figures of two men could be seen inside. They wore the same wide sleeves and tall hats, with elegant demeanor and noble and otherworldly air.

Moreover, they chatted and laughed from time to time.

Some elderly people couldn't help but shed tears, deeply moved. Sixteen years ago, Lord Xinyang left the capital by carriage to live in seclusion in Youhuang Mountain. The late King Xuanlian—the father of Zitun—personally came to the south gate of Mingcheng to see him off, a ceremony called "sending off." However, he only stood with his hands behind his back on the city tower, indifferently watching Lord Xinyang kneel and bow below the city to take his leave in accordance with the proper etiquette, and then leave the city and go far away. He did not utter a single word from beginning to end.

On that day, Lord Xinyang rode in a plain carriage with only a few family members and attendants, letting the carriage rumble away into the distance. His pale face showed no trace of emotion, yet everyone felt sorrow for him.

Now, the new emperor personally welcomed him back. He remained composed, unperturbed by the honor bestowed upon him. A bright gleam appeared between his brows, reminding one of the day in his youth when he was ordered to go out of the city to pray for rain and returned successfully. Sitting upright in his high carriage, he didn't laugh loudly, but the joy in his heart shone through his brow, making his spirit soar. The carriage curtains were not drawn, and through the misty rain, his youthful face was still clearly visible, so bright, seemingly as radiant as the sun and moon.

Lord Xinyang accompanied Zitun into the palace to pay homage to the Queen Mother, who had previously ruled from behind the scenes.

Empress Dowager Cen watched in silence as Prince Xinyang bowed, and after a long while, she uttered a single word: "Exempt." Her cold voice carried a hint of weariness.

Zitun immediately whispered to his uncle, "The Empress Dowager has been unwell lately."

Lord Xinyang nodded slightly, but did not say much. Before straightening up and lowering his eyes, his gaze lightly swept over the Empress Dowager. Although it was only a fleeting moment that was difficult to perceive, he already understood many things.

She was already in her thirties, yet the traces of time seemed to have slid across her face and disappeared into her eyes. Thus, she remained as beautiful as ever, only her once clear eyes had become tainted by the dust of the world, losing their purity. She looked at him with a cold and sharp gaze.

Then came another moment of silence. This pause made Zitun uneasy, and as he pondered how to break the deadlock, the Empress Dowager spoke up: "Lord Xinyang, how well are the Du Ruo flowers blooming on Youhuang Mountain this year?"

Lord Xinyang bowed and said, "It is entirely thanks to the blessings of Your Majesty and the Queen Mother that the flowers and trees of Youhuang Mountain are so lush and abundant, just as they are year after year."

The Empress Dowager smiled slightly: "Very good."

She continued to exchange pleasantries with him, her tone almost gentle, the sharpness in her eyes subtly disappearing, replaced by the demeanor of an elder sister-in-law.

He answered each question, his eyes always half-closed, which maintained his humble and respectful expression. While listening to her speak, he would offer a faint smile, unlike the obsequious smiles of the other officials. His smile was gentle, yet slightly reserved, making his demeanor impeccable even under the Queen Mother's imposing presence.

Zitun occasionally joined their casual conversation, but most of the time he watched his uncle with great interest. When the Queen Mother invited Lord Xinyang to return to his residence in the capital to rest, he even personally got up to see Lord Xinyang off outside the palace.

"Thank you, Mother." He turned around and smiled, "Your subject ignored your advice and insisted on bringing Lord Xinyang back. I thought you would be angry, but I did not expect you to treat Lord Xinyang so kindly. What a fine demeanor!"

Empress Dowager Wang glanced at him indifferently and said, "The person you went to so much trouble to invite back must be very capable. How could I not treat him with courtesy?"

Zitun understood her unspoken meaning and quickly explained, "Since Father's passing, Mother has been busy with state affairs all day long, to the point that she has fallen ill from worry. I deeply regret that I was unable to share Mother's burdens in time, so I recalled Lord Xinyang. With my uncle assisting in the government, Mother can rest easy and recuperate in peace."

"Lord Xinyang..." Empress Dowager Wang smiled quietly.

Zi Tun frowned: "Does Mother not believe that Lord Xinyang has the talent to assist in governing?" He walked to his mother's side: "Lord Xinyang could compose poetry at the age of five, write prose at the age of seven, and at the age of sixteen, he went on a mission to the State of Qi and successfully resolved a war with his own efforts. Moreover, he is of noble character and has the demeanor of a sage. When he lived in seclusion in Youhuang Mountain, he gave all his annual salary and fiefdom to disaster victims and poor families, while he himself lived a simple life with a simple meal. Everyone praised him as virtuous."

The Queen Mother remained silent, but Zitun became increasingly excited as he spoke: "Have you heard, Mother? The people of Chu privately call Lord Xinyang 'Lord of the Clouds.' Clouds can turn into rain, and rain nourishes mountains and rivers; they are comparing him to a cloud god! It is said that in the past, Chu suffered a severe drought, with no rain for ten months. Lord Xinyang volunteered to go out of the city to pray for rain, and as soon as the ceremony was over, the rain began to fall..."

A breeze blew in, carrying a damp smell. Zitun was overjoyed and strode out of the main hall. He leaned against the railing, looked up at the sky, and then turned to his mother, saying, "Look, it really is Lord Yunzhong! He just returned and brought a timely rain to Mingcheng..."

Empress Dowager Wang suddenly started coughing, covering her mouth with one hand and clutching her chest with the other, coughing painfully and frowning.

Zitun rushed back in a panic, asking repeatedly, "What's wrong with Mother?" He hurriedly directed people to fetch medicine and seek medical help. When the medicine was brought back, he took it from his mother and fed her spoonful by spoonful.

The warmth of the medicinal soup seeped into her body, and the initial discomfort dissipated. Empress Dowager Wang closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, her breathing gradually calming down.

"Mother, are you feeling better?"

Upon hearing the voice, the Queen Mother opened her eyes. For a moment, the scene before her was blurry, as if she were just waking up. Then, the figure of a seventeen-year-old boy settled into her mind's eye. His figure was elegant yet sorrowful. Before smiling, he tried to smooth his slightly furrowed brows and asked gently, "Are you feeling better now?"

In a daze, everything quietly changed. She seemed to be in the old palace of the ancient Chu Kingdom many years ago. The palace was shrouded in thin silk and gauze curtains, which locked in dim light. The air was filled with the fragrance of camphor. A beautiful woman, barely breathing, lay on the phoenix bed, like a pool of ice and snow about to melt away.

And he, that boy as beautiful as light, asked the ailing beauty with a sorrowful smile, "Mother, are you feeling better... are you feeling better now?"

To her, who was observing at the time, his voice was as pleasant as a gentle breeze in the forest. So she often unconsciously repeated his words in her heart: "Mother, are you feeling better... are you feeling better now?"

"Are you feeling better now?" someone asked again, this time almost anxiously.

She regained her composure and returned to the present moment. "Hmm, I'm much better." She nodded with a smile. "Zi-Tun, I'm fine, it's just a bit chilly."

Zi Tun smiled with relief. Empress Dowager Ban Han stared intently at him, suddenly realizing that he was now seventeen, just like when she first met him.

The "he" at the end was not Zitun, but the Lord Xinyang whom Zitun admired. The seventeen-year-old Lord Xinyang was not the same Lord Xinyang; at that time, he was Prince Pingyi.

(to be continued)

I. Lord of the Clouds

Bathed in fragrant orchid-scented water, adorned in splendid attire, like a radiant flower;

The spirit lingers, its radiance unending;

May my reverence be restored in the Palace of Longevity, and may my glory shine as brightly as the sun and moon.

Riding a dragon in imperial robes, I leisurely roam the land.

—From "Nine Songs: Lord of the Clouds"

When she first met him, she was just a ten-year-old girl.

Her father, Cen Yang, was a physician in the palace of the Prince of Chu, and she was his only daughter. Fu Bo was her name.

Before the age of ten, Fu Bo had never left Youhuang Mountain. It was her hometown, where her father met her mother and lived with her for eight years until her mother passed away.

Cen Yang was deeply saddened. Despite his exceptional medical skills and life-saving abilities, he couldn't save his own wife. But no one condemned him for this; he remained a renowned physician. Just a month after Lady Cen's death, Prince Qiu Lang summoned him to the palace to serve as a physician. He left his daughter in Youhuang Mountain until one day, when she was ten years old, he came from the palace and said to her, "Fubo, tomorrow morning go to the mountain peak and collect a bottle of autumn dew. Come with me to the palace."

Legend has it that Youhuang Mountain is the dwelling place of the Goddess of Mingshui. The plants on the mountaintop absorb the essence of the sun and moon and grow exceptionally well. The dew is formed by the moist night air clinging to the plants and trees. It is extremely clear and fragrant. Using it to wash one's eyes and face can sharpen hearing and vision, lighten the body, moisturize the skin, and prevent aging. Drinking it can prolong life and relieve hunger. It can also detoxify and cure all diseases.

Cen Yang had used autumn dew to treat illnesses before, but this was the first time he had come all the way from the palace to collect it. He even ordered his own daughter to collect it and send it to the palace, intending to ensure the purity of the young girl and the efficacy of the medicine. This shows that the person treating him must be of exceptionally high status.

Fu Bo then collected the autumn dew in a jade bowl, carefully stored it in a jade bottle, and then personally carried it in a carriage to the palace with his father.

The palace gates opening one after another and the seemingly endless corridors were Fubo's first impressions of the royal palace. Carrying the jade bottle, she walked until she was exhausted and on the verge of tears before finally reaching the palace where she could stop. However, her work was not over. Her father led her into a pharmacy, took out a carefully prepared elixir, and instructed her to decoct it with autumn dew. Finally, he placed the decoction on a tray, had her hold it to her eyebrows, and then led her slowly into the central palace room.

There was not a breath of wind, and the elaborate gauze curtains hung motionless. She saw wisps of smoke rising from the mouth of the golden beast, and the fragrance wafted in the room. It was supposed to have a calming effect, but she felt as if it were a layer of tightly woven gauze wrapped around her body, covering her mouth and nose. She immediately began to miss the fresh air outside the palace.

My father's patient lay in the deepest part of the palace, a place where the sunlight couldn't reach. Several maids stood on either side, their faces blurred in the dim light.

A young man sat beside the sickbed, turning his head to look at the person in the bed. Fu Bo, who had just entered, first noticed the man's trailing robes, with their elegant cloud patterns, impeccably clean and exuding the fragrance of orchids.

Cen Yang asked in a low voice if he could take the medicine, and the boy turned around and nodded slightly.

At that moment, the entire palace suddenly lit up. She saw his young face, with clear skin and beautiful features. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his pale lips seemed to hold a thousand sighs. She had never known before that a person could look so beautiful when he was sorrowful.

Cen Yang ordered Fu Bo to feed the person on the bed medicinal soup. She followed her instructions and approached, whereupon she saw the mysterious patient.

She was a woman in a semi-conscious state, lying listlessly under a peach-colored brocade quilt. Her long hair, still jet black, flowed down her pillow, making her face appear even paler and devoid of any vitality. She was as fragile as ice and snow, and even the beautiful bone hidden under the quilt seemed as if it would melt at the slightest touch.

But she was still beautiful, and her features bore a striking resemblance to the young man beside her.

The young man helped her sit up, and Fu Bo knelt before the bed, feeding her medicine with a spoon. This was not an easy task; several times the medicine dripped from the corner of her mouth, leaving Fu Bo at a loss, unsure whether to immediately put down the bowl and wipe it clean. The young man, however, seemed unconcerned, gently embracing the woman and letting her lean against his chest. Each time, he wiped away the medicine with his sleeve before it even dripped, his movements calm and natural. He showed no sign of reproach towards Fu Bo, simply focusing intently on the woman, without a moment's distraction.

As the medicine was almost finished, the beauty on the bed suddenly opened her eyes, looking around blankly. The young man then smiled and asked gently, "Mother, are you feeling better?"

That voice was so beautiful. Fu Bo stopped feeding him the medicine; his voice echoed in her heart like a gentle breeze, yet so soft and soothing. After a moment, she realized what he was talking about and was surprised: that seemingly young and beautiful woman was actually his mother.

The boy helped his mother lie down, and after a moment, he leaned forward and asked, "Are you feeling better now?"

The beauty simply smiled, and extended a slender, withered hand from under the brocade quilt, its skin so thin that blood vessels could be seen through it, to stroke her son's face.

After that, using autumn dew to brew medicine for the beauty became a long-term treatment. Since the autumn dew could not be used after three days, Cen Yang had Fu Bo frequently travel between the palace and Youhuang Mountain to collect fresh dew and bring it back to the palace. Each round trip took four days, which was very hard for a ten-year-old girl, but Fu Bo was very willing to do it.

She didn't actually like entering that dark palace; she only wanted to see the handsome young man. In that gloomy place, he was the only source of light.

Almost every time, he would attend to his mother, sometimes smiling and saying "thank you" to Fubo after she finished feeding him the medicine. Hearing his voice made her very happy, and she even found great joy in serving the patient.

She even gave him an extra ear, specifically for listening to things about him. Soon, she learned his identity from the conversations of the palace servants.

He is Prince Pingyi, the second son of Prince Qiulang. He is seventeen years old now and was born out of wedlock. His mother is Qiulang's most beloved wife, Yuanji, the sick beauty.

He had an older brother, Crown Prince Xuanlian, born to Queen Yisu. However, it was clear that neither Crown Prince Xuanlian nor Queen Yisu were as favored as Prince Pingyi and Consort Yuan. Fubo even overheard whispers: "What a pity, I heard that the King already intends to depose the Queen. If only the Lady hadn't suddenly fallen ill..."

If it weren't for Yuan Ji's illness, Prince Pingyi would likely have gained a higher status due to his mother's elevation to the position of legitimate wife. Fu Bo felt no regret; being young, she didn't fully understand the profound impact the difference between legitimate and illegitimate children had on one's destiny. She was somewhat fortunate, however, that Yuan Ji's illness had allowed her to meet Prince Pingyi. Although it brought her a sense of guilt, she sometimes thought how wonderful it would be if Yuan Ji's illness were incurable, because she secretly worried that once Yuan Ji recovered, she would return to Youhuang Mountain and would never see the prince again. This thought made her taste sorrow for the first time in her life.

Yuanji gradually recovered, her complexion improving day by day, and she was even able to occasionally get up and sit in the courtyard. Cen Yang continued to treat her with the Autumn Dew Medicine, and often reminded Fubo that she must personally handle everything from collecting the Autumn Dew to serving it to Yuanji, and not delegate it to anyone else. Fubo truly felt that he was overthinking it; even if her father hadn't given the order, she would have insisted on doing so.

But one day, she didn't see Pingyi in Yuanji's palace. While preparing medicine, she casually asked the maid beside her, "Has the young master not come to pay his respects to the madam?"

"Today, the young master went to the outskirts of the city to pray for rain," the palace maid replied.

Upon closer reflection, it had indeed been a long time since it had rained. The fields outside the palace were cracked, the crops withered, and the fields were littered with corpses of the starving. Only Youhuang Mountain was an exception, remaining lush and verdant.

"The young master volunteered to go," the palace maid added, and couldn't help but sigh.

Fu Bo found it strange: "Why is my sister sighing?"

“This is a very dangerous matter,” she said sadly. “There are already refugees causing trouble outside the capital. If princes and nobles go out of the city at this time, they are very likely to be attacked. Originally, the king wanted to go in person, but the ministers dissuaded him. So the prince stepped forward and asked to go out of the city to pray for rain on behalf of the king.”

Fu Bo pressed down the palm-leaf fan controlling the fire, remained silent for a moment, and then asked, "What about the Crown Prince? Did he also volunteer?"

The palace maid was taken aback: "The Crown Prince..." She suddenly smiled strangely: "The Queen said that the Crown Prince is unwell and has been so for several days."

"Then..." Fu Bo was about to ask more when the palace maid became alert and interrupted her, "Hurry up and brew the medicine, it's almost time!"

Fu Bo immediately fell silent and continued fanning the fire, but he seemed somewhat distracted.

On this day, Princess Yuan lay half-reclined under a tree in the courtyard, gazing at the gray sky through the falling leaves, remaining still with an indifferent expression.

Did she know that the young master was in great danger? Fu Bo had this question as he approached her carrying the medicine.

She sensed Fu Bo's approach and turned to smile, saying, "Put the medicine down for now; I want it to cool down before I drink it."

The voice was very gentle, which made Fu Bo feel at ease. He placed the medicine on the table next to her and then stood by her side.

Yuanji then asked her gently, "Are you Mr. Cen's daughter? I heard that the autumn dew used to decoct the medicine was all collected from Youhuang Mountain by you?"

Fu Bo nodded, thought for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "Yes."

Yuan Ji sighed, "Traveling back and forth must be exhausting. Besides, this really isn't a place for you." Her voice was filled with pity. Before Fu Bo could respond, she looked up at the sky again and murmured to herself, "The rain is about to fall..."

Fu Bo looked up and saw dark clouds gathering, the weather growing increasingly gloomy—it was indeed a sign that rain was imminent. The palace servants around him began to clap and cheer, rushing to congratulate Yuan Ji: "Madam, the young master has successfully prayed for rain!"