В погоне за радугами

Глава 56

I think the princess must know that Cao Ping is looking at her at this moment, but she has no intention of turning to look at him. She lowers her eyelashes and continues to strum the strings in an orderly manner, with a faint smile on her lips, but it is reserved and indifferent.

Over the years, the princess and Cao Ping had several opportunities to meet at banquets and garden parties, but the princess always avoided him and never saw him again. I never expected her to be so stubborn. Cao Ping had only glanced at Lu Yingniang a few times, and she had treated him like a stranger ever since.

The princess's rendition of "Qing Ping Yue" was now gentle and elegant, possessing an even more refined and noble quality than Lu Yingniang's performance years ago. At the end of the piece, everyone praised it highly. The princess rose to express her gratitude, offered her blessings to the Empress, and then took her leave to change her clothes, leaving the palace with me and two maids.

As they reached the edge of Yaojin Pool, a flute melody suddenly drifted from not far ahead, clearly playing the tune of "Qing Ping Yue." The princess paused, then took a few steps in that direction, as if searching for something.

Behind the artificial hill made of piled lake stones, a corner of a garment peeked out, its color an elegant azure. As the princess approached, the person in the azure robe stepped out, playing a dragon flute in the gentle breeze. Her wide sleeves fluttered, and her beautiful eyes looked at the princess with a half-smile, her gaze lingering on the princess's eyes and brows in harmony with the melody of the flute.

I sighed inwardly. This man was even more charming than before, making him even more dangerous to the princess.

After playing a tune under the princess's absent-minded gaze, Cao Ping pressed down on the dragon flute, smiled, and asked her, "It's been almost five years since we last met. How have you been, Princess?"

The princess bit her lip, didn't answer, and turned to leave.

“Princess,” Cao Ping called to her, moved slightly closer to her, and gracefully turned his head to bow, saying softly, “I have a matter that I cannot understand, and I hope that the princess will enlighten me.”

The princess hesitated, but finally responded: "What is it?"

"Why has the princess avoided seeing me since the Qian Yuan Festival four years ago?" He still smiled gently, but the question was very direct.

Tears welled in the princess's eyes. She kept her back to him, so he wouldn't notice her emotion. After a moment of silence, she walked away quickly, leaving him with a silent answer.

After changing her clothes, the princess returned to the palace and glanced intentionally or unintentionally at the male guests' seats. I knew what she was looking for, but Cao Ping wasn't there.

I quietly slipped away. I returned shortly after and whispered to her whereabouts of Cao Ping: "Young Master Cao is still by Yaojin Pond, sitting under the willow tree, gazing into the distance in a daze... It's raining, but he hasn't shown any intention of seeking shelter."

The princess sat serenely, seemingly oblivious to my words. After a long while, she finally turned to me and softly instructed, "Have someone bring him an umbrella."

This command showed that she ultimately didn't consider him a stranger. I sensed from this that the affair between these two young people—if those vague feelings could be categorized as an affair—had the potential to continue. And a few days later, an unexpected event proved this point.

That day, the old musician who was supposed to come to teach the princess on time did not come. Instead, it was Lu Yingniang, whom the princess had always disliked, who entered the Yifeng Pavilion to see the princess. Lu Yingniang told the princess that the old musician was sick that day, so she was specially sent to ask the princess for leave. She said that if the princess had any questions, she could ask Yingniang.

The princess, with a cold face, said she had no questions for Yingniang today and told her to go back. Yingniang agreed and retreated to the door, but the princess called her back again, saying, "Alright, since you're here, play a tune for me."

Yingniang agreed, returned to her seat, and asked with a smile, "What would the princess like to hear?"

The princess said, "Qing Ping Yue".

Yingniang laughed and said, "At the Empress's birthday banquet, the princess's performance of 'Qing Ping Le' amazed everyone. If I were to play this piece again, wouldn't it be like showing off my skills in front of an expert or imitating someone else?"

“Not at all,” the princess said coldly. “Four years ago, at the Qian Yuan Festival, Yingniang, your performance of ‘Qing Ping Le’ with Young Master Cao was truly astonishing. Your skill with the zither and your beauty captivated everyone. If I were to play this piece now, it would be like Dong Shi imitating Xi Shi.”

“Princess, please don’t say that, it’s too kind of me.” Yingniang quickly bowed and thanked him. Then, she revealed a truth that no one else knew at the time: “To my shame, I was ordered to perform ‘Qing Ping Yue’ with Young Master Cao. It was a sudden event, and I was unprepared. I only discussed it with Young Master Cao a few times before the performance, and the details of the arrangement were decided by him. During the performance, I was very nervous and made many mistakes. I either forgot to change the key according to Young Master Cao’s arrangement, or I forgot to coordinate the parts of the konghou and longdi. As a result, he kept looking at me and giving me hints and reminders. I was so ashamed that I made even more mistakes…”

Before she could finish speaking, the princess opened her eyes wide, grabbed her arm with one hand, and asked in a slightly trembling voice, "Did he only look at you because you played it wrong?"

Yingniang nodded and smiled, "Yes. The fact that this piece could be played was entirely due to Young Master Cao's cooperation in covering for us."

"So that's how it is..." The princess released Yingniang, stared at her blankly for a long time, and suddenly started laughing, laughing so hard that she buried her head in her arms and slumped over the table.

Yingniang said shyly, "This humble servant is merely pretending to be an amateur; please forgive my ignorance, Princess."

“Oh, I wasn’t laughing at you…” The princess was still leaning on the table, but when she turned her head to look at her, her eyes were like stars, sparkling with joy. “Thank you, Yingniang. The color of your rouge is so beautiful, and the scent of orchids and musk on your clothes is so fragrant.”

The Lonely City Closes (The Princess Who Fell in Love with a Eunuch) Falling Flowers and Wind Play with Clear Autumn Rain 47. Reciprocating the Poem

Chapter word count: 2253 Update time: 08-08-21 16:20

47. Reciprocating a poem

Lady Zhang, wife of Cao Yi, would visit the Empress every month. This time, she brought her second daughter with her. When the second daughter of Cao Yi met with the Empress, she requested to see the princess to ask her about the konghou (a type of harp). The Empress naturally granted her request and immediately ordered her maid to take her to the Yifeng Pavilion.

Miss Cao was a little younger than the princess, about fifteen or sixteen years old, and very cheerful and lively. After entering, she chatted incessantly with the princess, mainly about her feelings and confusion as a beginner in playing the konghou. The princess asked her to play a piece first, but she said that her skills were rudimentary and she was ashamed to let others hear her, so she asked the princess to dismiss everyone else. The princess agreed and dismissed everyone else, leaving only me by her side.

“Huaiji understands music, and he can point out if you play it wrong,” the princess explained to Cao Er Guniang.

Miss Cao nodded and smiled, "I know, Mr. Liang is no outsider."

This remark made me realize that her true intentions lay elsewhere. Sure enough, what she did next was not to play the konghou (a type of Chinese harp), but to take an oil-paper umbrella from a brocade pouch she had brought.

“My brother told me to return this umbrella to the princess,” she said.

That was indeed the umbrella I had sent to Cao Ping on the Empress's birthday. The princess didn't pay much attention to it, only glanced at it, and let me take it, saying, "It's just an umbrella, why bother you to return it?"

“My elder brother said that since the princess never said that the umbrella was a gift to him, it can only be considered as a loan, and naturally it should be returned,” the second young lady of the Cao family replied. Then she winked at the princess with a rather amusing smile and added, “My elder brother is careless and often damages things he borrows from others. The princess might as well check whether the umbrella is still intact.”

The princess looked somewhat puzzled before taking the umbrella from my hand again and slowly opening it.

The umbrella was still the same umbrella, but it was slightly different from before—its surface was densely covered with words pierced with needles. The princess held the umbrella up to the light source outside the door, and the light shining through the needle holes made the words appear brightly.

The above is a poem titled "Fisherman's Pride":

The slanting sunlight outside the railing shrouds the green trees, as oars glide along the waves, accompanied by the sounds of flutes and drums. Red sleeves flutter like moths among willow branches, swaying gently in the breeze, as I sing verses that echo the immortals' songs.

The shadow falls on the Shanglin Garden at dusk in spring; my silken robe is torn, but I cannot hold it back. I lament the gatherings in the Jade Garden over the years, but you remain silent, as the falling blossoms are stirred by the clear autumn rain.

This ordinary oil-paper umbrella, because of this deliberate damage, became the princess's cherished treasure. In the following days, whenever she had free time, she would either hold the umbrella in her arms and stroke it, or quietly go to a deserted courtyard, open the umbrella, and raise it into the air, letting the golden sunlight shine through its hundreds of tiny holes, casting a layer of golden sand-like highlights on her body.

She smiled as she read the words on the umbrella, turning the handle to let the golden light swirle around her. She spun slowly along with it, and the hem of her white pleated skirt fluttered out like a blooming evening glory.

At times like these, I usually hide behind the pillars, becoming her midday shadow, quietly keeping her company without letting her feel my presence.

I guessed she would respond to Cao Ping's probing. One afternoon, she locked herself in her study and didn't come out for a long time. I brought her tea and knocked several times before she hurriedly opened the door, her hands still stained with ink.

I offered her tea, and glancing around the room again, I noticed the wastebasket was overflowing with written papers. While she was sipping her tea, I picked up the top crumpled piece of paper and unfolded it.

She cried out in surprise, spilling tea in her haste, soaking her clothes, but she didn't care. She rushed over to snatch the paper from my hand. I smiled faintly, parrying her attacks while continuing to read.