Chapter 157 Part 2

 

The news that the princess would personally recreate the Celestial Being and The Capital in Zhenguo Tower spread again.

The mural would be housed in the Zhenguo Tower—no longer hidden behind palace walls—which means that in the future, ordinary people in Chang’an would have the opportunity to witness this legendary painting with their own eyes.

The original was the work of Ye Zhongli, said by rumor to have ascended to immortality on a dragon’s back. It was stunningly beautiful, the painting offered the world only a fleeting glimpse—like the glimpse of a beauty in passing—before it vanished, along with the Chang’an of old, which had once stood proudly at the peak of greatness, lost beneath the trampling of iron hooves and the engulfing flames of war.

Now, twenty years later, after so many twists and turns, the once peerless painting would finally return in such a way. Who would have predicted it?

In the following days, teahouses and taverns were filled with discussion about this matter, and everyone hoped that the artwork would come to fruition. The expectations were high, and the shadow cast by the recent fire in Chongtian Hall was swept away.

The day after the fire in Chongtian Hall, Xuyu entrusted Xiao Hu’er to He shi and Pei Xiaoyuan, and went to Zhenguo Tower to start painting behind closed doors.

The Zhenguo Tower was built in the same style as the palace tower, and the volume of the murals was almost the same as the original works. She could not finish the entire painting by herself in less than half a month. According to her plan, she would be responsible for outlining, and after completion, Song Bokang, Wang Chunlei, Lin Mingyuan and others would join in the coloring.

Time was too short and too many people were involved, so the final painting may be far inferior to her grandfather’s original work from twenty years ago, let alone surpass it.

However, she has to do this.

The time left for her was extremely tight. In just seven or eight days, she had to complete all the outlines. This was the core framework of a mural, and also the most difficult part. From the conception of the layout to the implementation of the details, every fold of fabric billowing in the wind, every crease of mountain ridge and crag, had to be rendered to the utmost of her ability.

In the Zhenguo Tower, she painted with fervent intensity, losing all sense of time, utterly immersed in a state of selfless absorption. When hungry, she would eat a few bites of the now-cold food the maids had brought and left by her side. When tired, she would rest briefly in a temporary resting place nearby, only to wake with a start from her dreams, rise, seize her brush, and resume her work. Even in those fleeting dreams, she became one of the celestial beings herself, soaring through the painted realm, wholly merged with the world she was creating.

She did not hesitate at all when making this decision.

As long as it was possible to realize, the painting she envisioned must appear in the upcoming celebration.

It was not to extol her father’s merits. His achievements and whether he deserved the title of a monarch who revived the country were not in this painting. After thousands of years, future generations would have their own evaluations on that matter.

Just like what her father said when he learned about the fire in Chongtian Hall, it was Heaven’s will. It was just that she wanted to do something for this celebration.

She wanted to use this painting, which had witnessed the peak glory of the Holy Dynasty, to welcome the triumphant soldier home. She wanted every one of them, the moment they stepped through Kaiyuan Gate, to behold Chang’an and every inch of the empire radiating outward from its heart, resplendent beyond words, eternally blessed by the gods.

Their blood—shed in this war and in every war before, and by those who would never return—had not been spilled in vain.

Dynasties rise and fall. Monarchs change. Even human life has its end. Most of their names would never be known to the world.

But beneath the vast heavens, the mountains would remember.

And so would Chang’an.

After painting almost continuously for five days, late on the sixth night, Xuyu was too tired. Her arms, which had been raised all the time, felt so sore that they felt like they were about to break. Her eyelids kept drooping. She stood on the scaffolding set up for painting at height, feeling light-headed and dizzy.

She knew she had to rest.

She got off the scaffolding and told Yang Zai’en to wake her up if she didn’t wake up by fifth watch. Then she went into the break room, lay down with her clothes on, and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

She was in a deep sleep, unaware of the time. The morning drum sounded, but she didn’t wake up.

After she had a good sleep, she opened her eyes blankly and found that it was already bright outside.

A bright spring sun shone through the gap in the curtains. She sat up suddenly, turned over and got off the bed. When she opened the door and saw Yang Zai’en standing outside, she couldn’t help but get angry and scolded, “Didn’t I tell you to call me at fifth watch? Why didn’t you?”

She had never been so angry at someone around her before. This time, she couldn’t control herself.

The time left for her was really tight, so tight that every hour, there were scheduled scenes that had to be completed; it could only be done in advance and could not be delayed.

“Princess, please calm down.”

When Yang Zai’en was scolded, not only did he not panic, but he even showed an unusual hint of joy on his face. He bowed to apologize to her and said softly, “Princess, you should see who has come. It was he who ordered me not to call you.”

Xuyu was momentarily stunned, but suddenly came to her senses, filled with wild joy, and ran towards the hall. She stopped in front of the door.

On the tall scaffolding stood the back of an old man she was familiar with. Holding a paintbrush, he tilted his head slightly, and continued the painting where she had stopped last night, concentrating on drawing the lines.

“Girl, are you awake?”

Ye Zhongli turned around, still holding the brush in his hand, and smiled and nodded at Xuyu.

“Grandpa has not gone far from Chang’an, when Grandpa heard about the Chongtian Hall incident on the way. Thinking that you might need help, Grandpa came back to help you.”

“Grandpa!”

Xuyu’s vision became blurred due to great excitement and joy.

She choked with sobs, then quickly wiped her tears, stopped talking, and went inside. After picking up another paintbrush from the work table, she climbed up the scaffolding, came to Ye Zhongli’s side, and joined in painting.

Ye Zhongli entered Chang’an at fifth watch this morning.

It was said that the old immortal Ye Zhongli, who had disappeared for more than twenty years, suddenly appeared and, together with the princess, painted the mural of Celestial Being and The Capital for the Zhenguo Tower.

As soon as the news spread, the streets of Chang’an were in an uproar. If it weren’t for the temporary protection around the Zhenguo Tower, preventing idle folks from getting close, afraid half of the city would have flocked to watch. Although they couldn’t see the true face of the murals for the time being, the people of Chang’an were increasingly looking forward to the upcoming celebration.

Outside, all the noise and bustle were blocked outside the gate of Zhenguo Tower.

Xuyu devoted herself to the mural, and together with her grandfather, the master and disciple worked together and the progress was unexpectedly smooth.

Finally, the final moment arrived.

The night before, the mural was almost completed, with only the last two strokes left.

Under the encouraging gaze of her grandfather, Xuyu picked up the paintbrush, dipped it in paint, and painted the eyes of the Jade Emperor in the center of the mural.

After finishing, she slowly turned her head and saw her grandfather standing behind her with his hands behind his back, looking at her quietly.

What her grandfather was looking at was not this mural that had gone through many hardships and was brought back to life after many years by the combined efforts of the master and disciple.

It was clearly her that he was looking at.

Her grandfather said nothing, but under the bright light, she could see clearly that there was a gleam of incomparable pride in his eyes.

At this moment, in her mind, she couldn’t help but recall the moment when the city was broken many years ago. He named her after the fine rain of deep spring, and picked her up and left the bustling Chang’an.

She put down her brush, turned around and threw herself into her grandfather’s arms, hugging his increasingly thin body. Thinking that they were about to separate again, she felt extremely sad and couldn’t help shedding tears.

Ye Zhongli comforted her, and seeing that she refused to lift her head for a long time, he said: “Girl, this painting you made is much better than the one Grandpa painted back in the day. Grandpa is riding on your coattails now. When the time comes, we’ll have the whole world staring in awe till their eyes pop out!”

Xuyu raised her head, “Grandpa, you’re making fun of me! It’s all thanks to you!”

Ye Zhongli shook his head with a laugh. Then, raising his hand to wipe the tears from her face, he sighed, “Already such a big girl, yet you cry at the drop of a hat. Grandpa starting to worry about that Pei’s son. He doesn’t seem like the talkative sort—how on earth is he going to coax you in the future…”

“Grandpa!”

Xuyu finally burst into laughter and shouted unwillingly. At this moment, she saw a figure standing quietly in the dark corner outside the hall door.

Zhao Zhongfang stepped over the threshold with some difficulty, walked in front of Ye Zhongli, bowed respectfully, and said: “His Majesty asked this old servant to pass something to Lord Ye. The people sent to pursue didn’t see Lord Ye, but unexpectedly, Lord Ye came back.”

He carefully took an object wrapped in a plain cloth from a tray held by a palace eunuch behind him and presented it to Ye Zhongli.

It was obvious that Ye Zhongli was somewhat puzzled. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it, opened the plain cloth, and slowly revealed a golden hairpin used by women. The hairpin, cleaned of the mud that had once covered it, quietly shone with a new golden light under the illumination of the lamp.

The first moment Xuyu saw it, she immediately recognized it. Besides feeling sad, she also felt a little surprised.

This hairpin, which was once worn in her mother’s hair and stained with her mother’s blood, had been kept on her father’s possession since it was unearthed, never leaving his side.

She didn’t know when and under what circumstances her father made such a decision.

Was it his way of thanking Ding Baiya for risking his life to protect her mother?

Or was Ding Baiya more qualified to have its company than him?

Her eyes began to feel hot again.

“This is the relic of Empress Zhaode.”

After Zhao Zhongfang finished speaking in a low voice, he bowed to Ye Zhongli again, performed a salute, then stepped back, turned around, and slowly walked out of the hall.

Ye Zhongli wrapped the hairpin back into its original form, then went to the pack he carried with him. Carefully, he placed it together with the remains, tied the bundle back up, and stood there in silence for a moment, lightly patting it—as if saying something to his former beloved disciple.

His expression was complicated, seeming both relieved and somewhat at peace.

“Girl, I had planned to head to the Eastern Capital, but it turns out Pei Ji has come here instead. He said there’s good wine and invited me to drink with him. Grandpa couldn’t resist the temptation of wine, and since the moon is just right tonight, I’ll go beg a cup. Before I leave, I must take this opportunity to laugh at him again. At this age, he actually returned to the government. A farmer’s peace was never something he could truly enjoy.

“You should go too, don’t make others wait too long.”

After a moment, he looked up and said with a smile.

Xuyu walked out of Zhenguo Tower.

Pei Xiaoyuan stood at the foot of the tall steps outside Zhenguo Tower, waiting for her.

It had been over ten days since he last saw her. From the very first day she entered the tower to begin the mural, she had secluded herself completely, refusing any visitors—even him. He had no choice but to obey her wishes. Knowing she would finish tonight, he came here early to wait for her. Now that her figure had finally appeared, he strode quickly up to meet her, took her hand, and unable to resist, gently pulled her into an embrace. After holding her for a moment, he let go and looked her over carefully.

Pei Xiaoyuan missed her too much.

For her, the past half month was like a rush, wishing there were forty-eight hours in a day. But for him, each day felt like a year, incredibly long.

Even in such a hazy moonlight, it was evident that after just ten days, she had lost a lot of weight. Her face became smaller and her eyes looked bigger, which made him felt regretful.

“Are you tired? The carriage is at the intersection. Once you get on, you can go to sleep.”

Xuyu didn’t say anything at first. She let him hold her hand and leaned her head slightly on his shoulder. She walked a few steps quietly with him and suddenly said, “I want to take a walk. Take me for a walk. I’m not tired.”

She was telling the truth.

The captive offering ceremony was about to begin and the mural was already completed.

The man beside her, young and handsome, was the lover in her heart, the father of her son.

On this incredibly tranquil late spring night, the moon was hazy, like a dream, hovering above her head.

Everything felt just right.

She didn’t feel tired.

She wanted to take a walk—anywhere would do on this night, so long as it was with the person beside her.

Pei Xiaoyuan paused, glanced at her, and after a brief flicker in his eyes, summoned a nearby attendant and whispered a few quiet words, then the man left quickly. He raised his fingers to his lips and gave a soft whistle.

Beneath the moonlight, a sleek, glossy black steed lifted its head and trotted toward them, its hooves pattering lightly on the ground, making a clear sound.

It was the recovered Jinwuzhui.

He carried Xuyu onto its back and sat on it himself, riding with her.

The horse whip gently struck Jinwuzhui, and it set off towards the Kaiyuan Gate not far away.

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