Chapter 170 – Rebirth of Prince Ding (I) Part 1

Princess Consort Yin of Prince Ding Mansion took her beloved daughter to stay in a villa outside the city for a while.

Because princess consort and Prince Ding had always been affectionate, the servants thought since she left Prince Ding alone at home, she would return in a few days at most. But for some reason, the scenery outside the city seemed so captivating that she ended up staying there for several days without returning home.

When she was away, the atmosphere in the entire prince mansion suddenly became quite oppressing. Prince Ding had a rather harsh temperament, unlike princess consort who was gentle and amiable. Usually, when it came to the matters in the mansion, as long as princess consort was there, everyone would certainly seek her out first to discuss. Now that she had been gone for many days, Prince Ding’s face seemed to grow darker day by day. Coming in and out, he always had a sullen face which made everyone in the mansion tread more carefully than before, hoping that princess consort would return soon.

After enduring for seven to eight days, they finally saw Prince Ding ride out of the city on his horse, presumably went to the villa to pick up princess consort. Only then everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The autumn scenery outside the city was pleasant, but there was a lingering frustration in Prince Ding’s heart. He had no time to enjoy the scenery and just rode his horse on the road. Unexpectedly, the heavens seemed to be against him as well. Halfway through the journey, a strong wind blew and dark clouds covered the sun. It was only afternoon, but the sky turned as dark as night, and suddenly, it started to pour.

Zhao Zhongfang had sharp eyes. Across a field, he caught sight of the faint outline of a temple roof nestled at the foot of a mountain several li away. He quickly suggested they take shelter there. Prince Ding looked at the pouring rain and had no choice but to ride his horse down the official road into the field, passing through a dense forest of vines and trees. Upon drawing closer, he found an abandoned Guanyin Temple. Because it was far away from the main road, it had fallen into disrepair and had long been deserted. Zhao Zhongfang picked a corner where the roof tiles were still mostly intact and directed the attendants to tidy it up for temporary rest. Prince Ding sat leaning against a pillar.

It was dark outside, with heavy rain and thunder. After attending to his master, Zhao Zhongfang suddenly remembered that today was the nineteenth of Ninth Month, the day when Guanyin became a nun. Though the clay statue within was weathered and crumbling, and the temple itself a ruin, since they had come across it and were waiting for the rain to stop with nothing else to do, he cleaned off the dust-laden offering table. He hadn’t planned for this, but by coincidence, he happened to be carrying some newly made imperial ambergris incense, a gift meant for the princess consort. Knowing she would not mind, he took out two sticks and lit them on the altar. Then he knelt down and made a quiet, sincere prayer. When he finished, he stole a glance at his master. The prince was resting against a temple pillar, eyes closed, seemingly unaware of any of this.

Zhao Zhongfang was filled with worry and distress.

The servants in the palace all thought that princess consort was just going out of the city to enjoy the autumn, but that was not the case. He was the only who knew that the night before princess consort went out, she and Prince Ding had a quarrel over a painting. The painting was a portrait of princess consort and the little county princess made by a court painter named Ding Baiya. The princess consort liked it so much and had hung it in her bedroom. Originally, everything was fine—until, inexplicably, Prince Ding returned one day, seemingly having heard some rumors, and took great offense to the painting. In a rare fit of anger, he tore it down and threw it into the furnace to be burned. The princess consort rescued it despite the burns, which made Prince Ding even more angry. After that, the couple shut themselves in their room, and one could only assume their quarrel continued behind closed doors. At that time, the shizi happened to be away, staying temporarily with the Liu family, which meant princess consort didn’t need to stay behind to care for him. The next morning, she took the little princess and left the prince behind, heading for the family’s countryside villa.

Zhao Zhongfang naturally didn’t hear what Prince Ding and princess consort were arguing about behind closed doors, but he vaguely guessed that it was related to the court painter who painted the picture.

Since their marriage, Prince Ding and princess consort had always been deeply affectionate. A quarrel so serious that it led to a prolonged separation was unheard of. Princess consort must have been deeply hurt, and the prince, simmering with anger, refused to apologize. And so the stalemate dragged on for days—until finally, today, the prince relented and expressed a wish to see the little princess. That was the true reason behind this outing.

Zhao Zhongfang prayed again, asking Guanyin to show her mercy and help the couple reconcile soon, and not let this matter create a distance between them. When he finished, he turned and saw that Prince Ding had closed his eyes, his head resting against the pillar behind him, as if he had fallen asleep. Knowing the prince had been busy lately with matters entrusted by the emperor, and had also been sleeping poorly due to princess consort’s absence, Zhao Zhongfang knew he must be exhausted. So he stayed close by to keep watch, sitting quietly and waiting for the rain to stop.

The incense rose in delicate curls, its scent slowly diffusing through the dim, night-like ruin of the temple. The rain showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. In the lulling sound of the steady downpour, Zhao Zhongfang himself gradually began to doze off.

After an unknown amount of time, he was suddenly awakened by a sudden thunder.

That crashing thunderbolt struck as if Mount Tai had collapsed, or a mighty dragon had roared right above their heads. It landed directly overhead with a deafening force, shaking the beams and columns of the dilapidated temple so violently that countless clumps of dust and fine sand rained down from the rafters like a mud rain.

Zhao Zhongfang was jolted awake by the explosive sound, his heart pounding as if it had leapt into his throat. The few young attendants under the eaves were even more terrified, dropping to their knees and kowtowing in panic. Still dazed and unsettled, he had no time to react when, all of a sudden, a startled cry came from behind him. He turned quickly and saw that Prince Ding had also woken with a start, his eyes snapping open. The prince sprang up from where he had been leaning and rushed toward the temple entrance, stumbling as his foot caught on the threshold and falling hard to the ground.

Then, struggling upright, he fell to his knees, clasped his head in both arms, and buried his face deep into the ground. He then became motionless, only his shoulders trembled faintly and continuously.

As Prince Ding’s close personal attendant, Zhao Zhongfang naturally knew more than most. He knew the prince to be skeptical of spirits and gods, and a man of unfathomable depth. To see him reduced to such a state by a single thunderclap was shocking and strange. Although Zhao Zhongfang felt puzzled, he did not think much at first and just rushed forward.

“Your Highness! Your Highness! What happened to you? It was just thunder! Your Highness, don’t be afraid!”

He wanted to help Prince Ding up from the ground, but he was unmoveable. After a long time, the prince slowly raised his head, opened his eyes, and looked up at the sky outside the temple where the rain was still falling.

What kind of expression was this? His eyes were blood-red, and filled with terror. It was hard to describe the feeling, as if he had encountered some extremely terrifying evil spirit that devoured his original soul, and now he was left with nothing but an empty shell.

Zhao Zhongfang had never seen such an expression on his master’s face. It was as if he had been struck by something sinister. He could not help but feel a little panic, subconsciously turned his head to look at the clay statue he had just worshiped. In the dim light, the face of the statue, which had been stripped of its golden coating, was vaguely visible, revealing a compassionate smile.

Zhao Zhongfang dared not speak again. Several attendants also noticed the strangeness of Prince Ding and came over, looking at him in fear. No one spoke.

In the distance, another thunder rolled across the sky. Zhao Zhongfang saw Prince Ding suddenly get up from the ground and walk out. He rode his horse out of the ruined temple and galloped away.

“Your Highness! Your Highness! The rain hasn’t stopped yet!” Zhao Zhongfang chased after him, but how could he catch up? He could only watch his figure disappear into the heavy rain.

Judging from the direction he was heading, it was neither the villa nor the city. It seemed as if he was still in shock and was wandering around aimlessly. Zhao Zhongfang was worried and ordered his followers to chase after him. Disregarding the rain, he hurried to the villa to look for princess consort.

The villa was a bit far away, and it took half a day to get there. Moreover, the weather was so bad. When the rain stopped and he finally arrived, it was already dark. Princess Consort Yin had just coaxed the little princess to sleep, and now sitting alone in the room copying the Diamond Sutra.

People said that if one recited the Diamond Sutra ten thousand times, even if a person died and enter the underworld, they could return to life. She did not believe she was worthy of such blessings, yet her sincerity was unwavering. If by praying she could bring harmony to her household, peace to her loved ones, and health to her children, then she would feel content.

Perhaps it was the harsh weather tonight, but she felt particularly restless and uneasy. The quarrel with her husband over that painting had lasted several days now. It was truly his words at the time that had cut too deeply—he had even suspected her of harboring feelings for that court painter. In her anger, and seeing that her stepson was not around and she had no need to care for him, she had left in a fit of pique, taking their daughter to the villa. She had thought he would come to fetch them in two or three days. But now it had been seven or eight, and aside from Zhao Zhongfang’s visit, he himself had not appeared. It seemed he was convinced she had been unfaithful. Though hurt, she gradually came to term with it—she herself could bear it, but their daughter missed him terribly, crying each night and endlessly asking why her father had not come.

And she had another worry.

She vaguely knew who was the source of the rumor about her affair with the court painter. However, she could not say it in front of her husband, nor did she dare to say it. As the one who shared his pillow, how could she not know what kind of man he was? Although he treated her very well, he was not a man of gentle or forgiving temperament. If she were to confront him head-on and truly provoke his anger, perhaps he would do nothing to her—but what he might do to that painter in private was another matter entirely.

Though the tragic case of his brother had left him wary, making him keep a low profile and act all the more cautious in front of the emperor, with his position and influence, dealing with a mere court painter would take nothing more than a word.

A chill of fear rose in Princess Consort Yin’s heart. She turned to glance at the daughter lying on the bed, and in that moment, made up her mind.

This matter was her problem alone. She would swallow all the grievances and return tomorrow morning. If he was still angry, she would humble herself and explain to him properly. As long as he could calm down, she would do whatever it takes. After the matter was over, she would speak and act with caution in the future, and avoid provoking her husband into feelings that should not even arise. After all, the affairs in the court were enough trouble for him.

Princess Consort Yin made up her mind, put down her brush, and was about to order people to pack up overnight and prepare to go back the next morning, when suddenly a maid reported that Zhao Zhongfang had arrived. She called him in and asked him why he came so late. When she heard Zhao Zhongfang’s story about the accident that happened in the ruin temple during the day, all her remaining anger and sadness disappeared immediately. She became extremely anxious, and hurriedly called the steward, ordering him to take all the servants with him and go out to look for the prince immediately.

The steward obeyed the order and left. Zhao Zhongfang also turned around and continued to look for Prince Ding. Princess Consort Yin waited alone in the room; if it weren’t for the darkness and her worry that her daughter might wake and cry upon not seeing her, she would have rushed out to search as well.

As the hour grew later—approaching midnight—still no word had come. By now, princess consort was deeply anxious. Her husband had always acted with caution and deliberation; this simply wasn’t like him. Fearing something might have truly happened to him, she summoned a maid, instructed her to watch over the little princess carefully, and hurried outside. She was just about to order a carriage prepared so she could return to the prince mansion herself and send Guo Zong and the others out to search, when suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps came from beyond the courtyard gate.

“Princess Consort! His Highness is fine! His Highness is back!” Zhao Zhongfang’s joyful voice reached her ears.

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