Thousand Verdant Mountains – Chapter 150
Chapter 150
Ding Baiya would never forget the first time he met Princess Consort Ding.
That year was his sixth year in Chang’an.
Like the countless examination candidates who flocked to the capital like fish crossing a river, he too came from a once-prominent but now-declining gentry family. Carrying his bundle on his back, utterly alone, he bore the moonlight on his shoulders and cherished a dream: “.” With dust on his clothes and hope in his heart, he made his way to this matchless, greatest city of the age.
Born in such a prosperous era, it was his luck, but also his misfortune. Even though he was extremely talented, in such an era of prosperity the empire knew no shortage of others like him, or even more privileged, all harboring the same ambition. From every direction, they poured ceaselessly into the heart of the empire.
Everyone dreamed of being that one triumphant soul whose name would be carved on the Great Wild Goose Pagoda.
Year after year, the one who made the leap to the dragon gate was never him.
From sixteen to twenty-two years old.
The young man who was arrogant and conceited in the past had his edge completely worn out on the whetstone of Chang’an.
By a chance, he learned from a scholarly official in Chang’an who admired his talent that, in fact, he had made the list of successful candidates four years ago—his second year sitting for the examinations. However, due to an earlier essay of his that sharply criticized current affairs and bluntly exposed hidden dangers facing the state, which had spread widely and drawn the emperor’s attention, he was struck from the list. After reading it, the emperor had written just eight words in judgment: “An arrogant brat—never to be employed.” From that moment on, whenever examiners saw his name in the following years, they would immediately discard his paper without consideration.
From then on, he grew silent and began pouring more of his heart and mind into painting. Living in Qinglong Temple for many years, his years of study yielded nothing, and he owned barely a thing. The abbot appreciated his talent and provided him with vegetarian meals every day, but he knew that he had to change. Thus, the paintbrush that used to express his leisure time became a means of survival, and he became a painter.
He met Princess Consort Ding at a birthday party held by an imperial prince for his mother. She had only recently married then—young and radiant, with bright eyes and raven-black hair, a beauty peerless in her prime. He was one of the many painters hired to paint for the ladies who attended the party. From the moment he saw her from afar, he felt utterly unworthy—how could he even dare to look again?
In resplendent halls and painted pavilions, the grand banquet flourished. The noble ladies were enjoying themselves in the gardens under silk canopies and gauzy veils. Outside the banquet tent, he was bent over his work table, sweating profusely under the scorching Fifth Month sun. The painters’ paintings were brought to the banquet one by one by the servants for the ladies to enjoy. But when the wine had run dry and the guests dispersed at twilight, he saw his paintings abandoned on the ground, which was littered with cups and plates, with wine stains and muddy footprints all over it.
He did not stop, but passed by silently. After leaving the banquet, he was hungry and thirsty, and felt very tired. Just as he was about to quicken his pace to go back, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him, and someone called him.
A maid came over with a plate of cherries and said with a smile that they were a gift from Princess Consort Ding.
“Are you Ding Baiya? Princess Consort said that she had read your articles before, and she didn’t expect that you can paint well. Unfortunately, she’s also a guest today, so it’s inconvenient for her to keep the painting. This is a reward from the princess consort, it’s clean.”
The maid brought the plate of cherries.
The fruits were bright red and round, placed on an ivory plate like beautiful colorful gems, it sparkled with light as they roll.
Princess Consort Yin’s father had once served as the Minister of the Imperial Academy—a renowned historian of the Zhaowen Pavilion. He had passed away three years ago after retiring due to illness. Having participate in the imperial examinations for many years, how could he not have known the man’s name?
That very same official had once mentioned to him in passing that the minister’s resignation was, in part, connected to the article he had written back then. The minister had submitted a memorial advising the emperor, saying that while the student’s views were perhaps one-sided, his talent was undeniable and his patriotism sincere. He urged the emperor not to dismiss a student’s entire future for the sake of one fault. This displeased the emperor, and not long after, the minister resigned and died of illness the following year.
At that time, a few noble ladies were still gathered beneath a flowering tree, chatting idly, having yet to leave. Princess Consort Ding was among them.
It was as if he awoke from a dream. Turning his head, he saw her in the distance looking back at him. She gave him a faint smile—and nodded.
He froze, and it was the maid who called him. He hastily rolled up his sleeves and took the plate of cherries.
The fruit was chilled. When he carried it back to his place of residence, the ice had completely dissipated. However, on that hot summer night, when he picked up one and ate it, it was still so cool, and the sweetness lingered on his lips for a long time.
This was the most delicious food Ding Baiya had ever eaten in his life, no doubt about it.
Later, he no longer had any ambition for scholarly honor and was devoted to painting. He caught the eye of Ye Zhongli and was accepted as his disciple. Later, his paintings and his graceful demeanor became equally renowned, he began to be favored by the noble ladies. At first, he responded to all advances with cold indifference. Yet perhaps the gaze he directed at that one woman was simply too intense—so much so that even he could not restrain it. After he painted a picture for her and her young daughter—a playful scene of a kitten at play—rumors began to spread in the capital of an affair between him and her. Even the memory of how her father had once spoken for him before the emperor became twisted into “proof” of their supposed secret relationship. The rumors filled him with dread and deep remorse. From then on, he refused to appear anywhere she was present. At the same time, he began to actively socialize with other noble ladies—even going so far as to accompany them on outings or share their lodgings. His fame grew ever greater. The Grand Empress Dowager personally appointed him to paint her portrait, and one of the most powerful senior lady-in-waiting in her service looked on him with particular favor.
That night, without any explanation, he was suddenly and urgently summoned to the palace. He didn’t know what had happened until he saw the lady-in-waiting and learned that the Grand Empress Dowager had left the palace early. That very night, the emperor also quietly escaped from the Forbidden Garden to the west. Tomorrow, all officials and common people would know that since last night the palace had been empty.
The lady-in-waiting was also going to sneaked away, and wanted to take him with her. He immediately thought of Princess Consort Yin, wondering if Prince Ding had sent someone back to pick her up, and whether she knew that Chang’an had been abandoned. When he was hesitant, the lady-in-waiting sneered and asked him if he wanted to go and report the news to Princess Consort Ding.
“I tell you, tonight is her death. The rebels will arrive tomorrow at the latest. If you don’t come with me, do you want to die under the swords of the rebels like those lowly people in Chang’an?”
The lady-in-waiting had long wanted to monopolize him as her lover. In the past, he had always avoided her, keeping his distance whenever possible. But that night, sensing an opportunity, he feigned fear and submissiveness, pretending to yield and accompanied her in the carriage as they left the palace from the forbidden garden.
In the carriage, he carefully probed for information. The woman, well aware that her beauty had faded and eager to win the favor of a younger man—and perhaps to intimidate him as well—ended up revealing the truth.
Xiao Liu was the grandniece of the Grand Empress Dowager and often entered the palace to attend and flatter her. This time, though she had received word of the evacuation, she refused to leave with Grand Empress Dowager, using some other matter as an excuse to remain behind. In fact, she and her confidantes had secretly conspired to seize the opportunity—under the pretense of acting in Grand Empress Dowager’s name—to lure Princess Consort Yin, wife of Prince Ding, into a trap. However, this was no ordinary scheme. If Grand Empress Dowager were ever to find out afterward, there would be dire consequences. Xiao Liu hesitated, caught between ambition and fear.
How could Xiao Liu’s scheme possibly escape the Grand Empress Dowager’s notice? In fact, the lady-in-waiting had deliberately remained behind for this very reason. So when Xiao Liu later approached her to sound things out, she pretended to let something slip—subtly revealing the Grand Empress Dowager’s true thoughts.
Though both were imperial grandchildren, the Grand Empress Dowager had always favored Crown Prince Jingsheng, while held deep dislike toward Prince Ding. The origins of this sentiment were oddly coincidental: on the very night Prince Ding was born, Grand Empress Dowager suffered a fall and was bedridden for a time, nearly dying. Afterwards, she grew suspicious, had Prince Ding’s birth characters examined, and was told they clashed with hers—an omen, they said, of misfortune not only for her but for the imperial family at large. She believed it without question. At that time, the emperor—who had not yet fully fallen into his debauched pleasures—held Prince Ding in high regard. He often praised the boy for reminding him of his younger self, and among all the princes, considered him the most capable. The emperor even personally arranged his marriage to a noblewoman from the prominent Liu clan of Guannei. That decision only deepened Grand Empress Dowager’s displeasure.
After the older Liu died of illness a few years ago, Grand Queen Mother knew that the Liu family had always wanted to marry Xiao Liu to Prince Ding in order to stabilize the marriage ties.
This move was naturally not to her liking. She was bent on clearing obstacles for her beloved grandson, the Crown Prince, so how could she allow the Liu family to marry another daughter as a consort? She wanted to arrange for her own people to enter Prince Ding Mansion as the successor consort and monitor Prince Ding’s actions. Unexpectedly, Prince Ding was very cunning. After a few years of silence in the Prince Mansion, one day, without any warning, he went directly to the emperor and said that not long ago, he went out to visit the apricot garden and met the daughter of the Yin family. He was very fond of her and wanted to marry her.
Yin Jijiu’s eldest son died young, leaving him with only a daughter. His family was also without descendants. A few years ago, after Jijiu passed away, the family became even quieter.
Prince Ding’s move seemed to be exactly what the emperor wanted. At that time, that Yin girl had already finish her filial piety period and agreed on the spot, accepting to the marriage.
Since the emperor had spoken, Grand Empress Dowager had to give up. However, from then on, she became more and more disgusted with Prince Ding, and also hated that Yin girl, believing that she had seduced Prince Ding and ruined her plan.
The lady-in-waiting revealed Grand Empress Dowager’s hatred for Princess Consort Yin to Xiao Liu, and reminded her indirectly that in order to cut the grass at its roots, the little county princess must be killed as well to prevent future troubles.
Xiao Liu seemed to be reassured and no longer hesitated, and made up her mind.
“You think the Grand Empress Dowager merely wanted to borrow a knife to get rid of that mother and daughter?” the lady-in-waiting said smugly.
“That idiot Xiao Liu—by killing Prince Ding’s beloved and not even sparing the young princess—she’s done the dirtiest work. Even if the Grand Empress Dowager stays silent, do you think Xiao Liu can hide it forever? When Prince Ding eventually finds out, he’ll be devastated. And when that day comes, do you think he’ll ever let the Liu clan go unpunished? Let dogs devour dogs—then the Crown Prince can sit comfortably, fishing in still waters.”
The lady-in-waiting had shared all this with Ding Baiya out of vanity—wanting to flaunt her future influence and entice him into submission, hoping he’d willingly become her lover. What she didn’t realize was that Ding Baiya was ruthless at heart and had already resolved to kill her. While trying to please her, he strangled the lady-in-wating in the moving carriage. Then, taking her palace pass, he called the carriage to a halt. Carrying her lifeless body as if she were simply unwell, he got down calmly and told the attendants they needed to step into the nearby woods to discuss a private matter.
The attendants thought the lady-in-waiting was simply impatient and wanted to indulge herself with him during the journey, so they dared not question it. Ding Baiya rode off, and once in the forest, he hid the body, then turned his horse around and galloped back to Chang’an at full speed, heading straight to Prince Ding Mansion to deliver the warning.
He was still too late. Princess Consort Yin had already been lured out and was nearly at the palace gates. Without hesitation, he revealed himself and blocked the road, laying bare everything he had learned. Guo Zong and the others were shocked and immediately prepared to escort Princess Consort Yin back—but Xiao Liu, wary of any mishap, had already sent men to scout ahead. Realizing something was wrong, they gave chase.
The two sides were not far apart. Outnumbered, Princess Consort Yin knew she was Xiao Liu’s primary target. She ordered Guo Zong to return home and flee with her daughter, while she herself took a separate path to divert pursuit.
She should have had a premonition that she would die tonight, so she told Ding Baiya to flee as well, the farther the better, to avoid being caught in the crossfire. But Ding Baiya would not abandon her. With the few remaining guards of the prince mansion, he stayed by her side as they fled in panic. Their path was soon cut off by a river. The pursuers caught up, and they were outnumbered. Ding Baiya was stabbed in the chest and fell into the water. The other guards also died. Only Princess Consort Yin was captured and brought into the palace.
It turned out that Xiao Liu hated Consort Yin so much that she thought only killing her would be far too merciful. She wanted to see her disgraced and humiliated before she died. Princess Consort Yin, of court, understood her intent. On the road, she didn’t put up a resistance, just to buy time for her daughter to escape. But once brought before Xiao Liu, she pulled out the golden hairpin on her head, stabbed herself in the heart, and fell to the ground and died. Xiao Liu flew into rage and ordered her attendants to whip her corpse and then throw her to the mass grave in the east of the city to be eaten by wild dogs.
At that time, news was secretly delivered again that the rebels were getting closer and closer to Chang’an. After she gave the order, she did not dare to stay any longer and fled in a hurry.
The direction that the rebels came from was the east of the city. The mass grave was far outside the city, about ten to twenty miles away.
Although Princess Consort Yin committed suicide, her face still looked as if she were alive. The leader could not bear to desecrate her, and was also afraid that disposing of the body would delay the time. If the rebels were caught early, he would not be able to escape. Seeing that Xiao Liu had left, he handed the matter over to his men and fled himself.
His two subordinates had the same idea as him. How could they dare to go to the east of the city? After discussion, they moved Princess Consort Yin’s body to a corner of Taiye Pond next to a remote flower forest. Weighing her down with a stone, they sank her into the water and then fled in haste.
Ding Baiya, skilled in swimming, had not died when he fell into the river. He dragged himself ashore, and despite his injuries, he chased after the enemy.
After he became famous, he spent lavishly and socialized with many palace guards. That night, an air of unease already pervaded the palace—many of the guards were suspicious and distracted, their vigilance lax. None stopped him. He was able to slip back inside. Following the trail, he arrived just in time to witness Princess Consort Yin collapse before his eyes… and then saw her body lowered into the water. After the others escaped, he went down to the pond, retrieved her, and desperately tried to bring her back.
The princess consort’s soul finally returned to her body. However, even when she woke up, she was dying and only had one last breath left.
The spring moon rose over the flower forest. She lay in Ding Baiya’s arms, her mind hazy and unfocused. In the blurred moonlight, she mistook him for Prince Ding and murmured softly, calling him my dear, saying she was going ahead first, and would no longer be able to stay by his side. He need not seek vengeance for her; she knew he harbored grand ambitions, that the world was in turmoil and the court in disarray. Whatever he must do, he should go and do it—she would not blame him.
She added that she knew he married her in the first place to use her to deal with the Grand Empress Dowager and to eliminate his father’s fear of him. He had been the one she fell for at first glance. But if there were a next life, she probably would not marry him again.
She breathed her last amid a sudden burst of frantic pleading—for him to hurry, to save her daughter.
My dear, you must make her a carefree and happiest person.
She uttered these last trembling words from her cherry lips, and died in Ding Baiya’s arms.
This time, she was truly dead, and there was no possibility of coming back to life.
Ding Baiya hugged her tightly, the blood from the wounds on his front mixed with tears silently, until her body became cold, completely lifeless, only then he slowly let go.
He stumbled along, holding her in his arms, and found an ancient apricot tree that was in the most blooming state beside the pond. He dug the ground all night, from dusk till dawn.
After dawn, everyone in the palace knew that the emperor had escaped last night. Everyone was running for a way out, but no one knew that, deep in the palace grounds by the Taiye Pond, at the edge of the flower forest, he had dug a deep resting place for her.
He knew she loved apricot blossoms.
Among all the splendors of spring, this flower was the most delicate. Only the apricot blossom—with its soft crimson like brocade and pale pink rivaling snow—was worthy of praise as fair as a beauty’s morning face. But spring is fleeting; no matter how alluring the bloom, it passes in a blink, beyond the reach even of the immortals.
Ding Baiya put her in it and carefully arranged her clothes.
She was so beautiful, even at this moment, she still looked like she had just fallen asleep. How could he bear to cover her with mud? He covered her whole body with fallen petals, letting the petals block the merciless mud for her, and slowly covered her inch by inch.
After temporarily burying her, he left a mark on the tree trunk, held on to his last breath, and dragged his crumbling body to the Yong’an Hall.
This grand hall had long been empty.
He went deep into the dim hall, sat in the corner of the mural wall, and began to carve words on the wall for his master.
He knew that his master would definitely come here to look for him. But he was afraid that he could not wait for that moment. Before he died, he had to tell him where Princess Consort Yin was temporarily resting and ask him to transfer her to Prince Ding.
Also, how she died at the hands of those scheming and sinister evil spirits, and what were the last words she wanted to leave for her husband.
Not a single word was missing, and all of them were left there exactly as they were.
After carving the last word he wanted to leave, he was exhausted, leaned his head against the corner of the mural, and ceased to breath.
His left hand, which had fallen limply to his knees, was still tightly holding the knife. It was a souvenir left to him by his master when he left Chang’an many years ago.
The torch fell from Xuyu’s hand and fell to the ground, sparks flying everywhere.
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out. She just turned her head and looked in the direction of the pond and flower forest. Her whole body trembled continuously and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Just when she was about to fall down because her legs could no longer support her, Pei Xiaoyuan caught her by the waist and held her tightly in his arms.