Story of Yanxi Palace · Chat

The sixth year of the Qianlong Emperor's reign, the second day of the second lunar month. On the day of the Longtaitou Festival, the sky over the Forbidden City was gray and hazy, as if someone had splashed a basin of brush-washing water across it. From Shenwu Gate to Shunzhen Gate, a long stretch of bluestone pavement was packed with young women. Each wore a uniform blue cloth tunic and a neat, regulation two-tuft hairstyle, clutching their bundles in their hands like a flock of quails driven onto a roost. Wei Yingluo stood in the middle of the line, looking up at the towering palace wall. The wall was so high. It wasn't that she hadn't seen high walls before—the rim of the well back home was high enough, but no matter how high that well rim was, you could still look up and see the sky. This palace wall was different; it caged people inside, making even the sky seem half as small. "Stand up straight, all of you! Stop looking around!" A momo roared at the top of her lungs, her voice shrill enough to shake the glazed tiles loose. Yingluo shrank her neck, withdrew her gaze, and stared at the back of the girl's head in front of her. The girl's hair was combed slick and smooth, without a single stray hair in sight, as if it had been smeared with lard. Yingluo touched her own bundle. Inside the bundle was a jade pendant, a pouch, and a change of clothes. The jade pendant was left to her by her sister, and the pouch was embroidered by her sister as well. Her sister had said that once she was selected in the draft and entered the palace, she should wear the pouch to keep her safe. Her sister had also entered the palace. Her sister never came out. Yingluo tightly gripped the straps of her bundle, her knuckles turning white. She did not cry; she hadn't shed a single tear since the day she learned of her sister's death. What was the point of crying? Could crying bring someone back from the dead? No. Tears couldn't save her sister, and tears couldn't uncover the truth. And so, she came. "You stepped on the hem of my skirt." The girl in front of her turned around. She had a round face and big eyes, looking devoid of any scheming intent. Yingluo looked down and saw that she had indeed stepped on the other girl's blue cloth tunic, and hurriedly apologized. The girl wasn't angry, merely muttering a "be careful" before turning her head back around. Yingluo noticed that this girl's hands were trembling too. Trembling even more violently than her own. The line slowly inched forward. Yingluo heard someone crying up ahead, the sound kept very low, as if she was afraid of being heard but unable to hold it in. Then came the momo's scolding: "What are you crying for? Your parents aren't dead yet! Once you're in the palace, you'll have plenty of time to cry!" No one dared to make another sound. The wind poured in through the palace gates, chilling to the bone, blowing a coldness that seeped into everyone's joints. Yingluo clutched her sleeves tightly, her nails digging into her palms. She remembered the night before she left, her father sitting in the main room, his head drooping, not saying a word. She had waited a long time, only to hear one sentence: "Do you absolutely have to go?" She said, "Yes." Her father did not try to stop her again. He never stopped anyone. Back when her sister's incident happened, he had just squatted by the doorway smoking his dry pipe, knocking the pipe bowl against the ground, tap by tap, like tolling a death knell. Yingluo knew her father couldn't be relied upon. The only person in the family she could rely on was herself. "Next!" The momo's voice rang out again. The line moved forward a few more steps. Yingluo took a deep breath and straightened her back. She was not afraid. She was only afraid of one thing—failing to uncover the truth. The sun revealed half its face from behind the clouds, shining on the glazed tiles of the Forbidden City, dazzling the eyes. In the distance, crows were cawing, one cry after another, like a harbinger of doom. Yingluo lifted her foot and stepped over the threshold of Shunzhen Gate. Behind her, the palace doors closed heavily.