Sea of No Return

Ехtrа Сhаpter

Тimе is а whеtstоne, silently grinding аwаy all shаrp edgеs аnd рrоminеnt сorners until thеy become smoоth аnd roundеd. No mаttеr hоw turbulеnt and mаgnifiсеnt thе уeаrs may havе bеen, оnce theу pass, thеy graduаllу sеttlе intо саlmness. It seеms аs though аll раin and sоrrow hаvе been digеstеd, and thе once-vivid рeoplе аnd еvents slоwly fade, until in thе еnd, thеy bесоmе mеrеly а lеgendаry tаle pаssed dоwn bу wоrd of mоuth аmоng оnlookers.

"Тell me about the оld days, Mаmmy. I don’t rеmembеr muсh of it."

"Whаt’s the fun in talking about that all the time!" The wet nurse saw that the kumquats in the Fu Ju potted plant had all dried up and shriveled, stubbornly clinging to the branches and refusing to fall. She reached out and plucked one, tossing the withered, hard seed into the soil below, then dusted her hands and said, "You, as a child, gave this servant no end of worry. At first, when we lived in Big Hat Lane, you were raised just fine. But after returning to the Princely Mansion, somehow, you grew thinner and thinner..."

Dongli had never been robust from a young age. Because his parents were too young when they had him, he was like a seedling lacking nourishment—no matter how much he was watered and cared for, he was always weaker than others. He began his studies later than his brothers; while Dong Qi and Dong Sheng ran around bare-chested, wild and carefree, he was still sitting under the eaves in his spring clothes. In terms of health, he was indeed lacking, but he came from a good background, and after the change of dynasty, he enjoyed a unique and exalted status. The Empress’s beloved son, even The Emperor regarded him with special favor. To treat his deficiencies, His Majesty personally studied medicine, diagnosing his pulse and preparing his medicine without entrusting it to anyone else. Outsiders might see it as nothing more than deep father-son affection, but they only knew one side of the story. The reason The Emperor established the crown prince immediately upon ascending the throne had much to do with Consort Dunsu. When the crown prince was still in swaddling clothes, he was sent to be raised at the Southern Garden Princess Mansion. At that time, Princess Chang doted on him immensely. Though The Emperor now has five sons, he holds a special regard for him, partly in remembrance of his birth mother.

"Anyone else may be forgotten, but you must remember the kindness of Her Ladyship!" This was something the wet nurse often said, of course, behind the back of the Empress Dowager. When the crown prince was two or three years old, he still held Her Ladyship in his heart and on his lips, but after all, he was just a child. Once someone suddenly withdrew from his life, as time passed, the memories gradually faded. However, good and evil are determined from birth. His temperament resembled Her Ladyship’s—gentle, tolerant, and not overly calculating. Even though he was later raised by the Empress Dowager and The Empress, he still retained his innocence and kindness, and in his dealings with others, he carried the legacy of the late Princess Royal.

The crown prince said, "I only have a vague impression of Her Ladyship. Mammy, don’t speak of anything else—just tell me about Her Ladyship and the High Ancestor."The wet nurse squinted her eyes, tucking her hands in her sleeves as she sighed, "Those two... how should I put it? What a pity. Your grandmother was the kindest person in the world. She treated everyone with warmth and never looked down on us because of our lowly status." She gestured above her head, "Your grandmother was this tall, the most outstanding among all the girls. She had fair skin, the color of the milk curd and cream you eat. She was born into wealth and had a clever, intricate heart. The smarter a person is, the more they suffer—your grandmother was proof of that. If her spirit hadn’t been so high, she’d still be here today. If she were alive, your grandfather would be too. I’ve counted—they’ve been gone seven years. If they were still here, your grandmother would be thirty, and the late Emperor, eight years older, would be thirty-eight, right in the prime of life..."

An untimely death is always heartbreaking. The Crown Prince lowered his head and sighed, "The Empress Dowager told me that it was Grandmother who took Grandfather with her. If not for her, Grandfather wouldn’t have taken his own life."

The wet nurse felt uneasy upon hearing this, thinking to herself that the Empress Dowager was exceptionally skilled at playing the victim—second to none in the world. She ought to be grateful instead. If Princess Hede were still alive, could she have attained her current position? As long as the rightful princess consort was breathing, she’d never have had a chance to rise.

Though the logic was clear, she didn’t dare stir up old grievances. She only said, "If your grandmother hadn’t left, the late Emperor would still be alive as The Emperor. What if your grandmother had given birth to a son..." She stopped herself and smiled, "So I say everyone has their own fate, and many things are predestined. Otherwise, why would a phoenix fly out from the phoenix tree in the southeast corner on the day of The Empress and The Emperor’s wedding? That phoenix was your E’nie. Look at her now—she’s become The Empress... Your grandmother was truly good to your E’nie back then. Worried that your E’nie might struggle as a newcomer, she didn’t impose strict rules on the new bride..." Little did she know it would end with everyone turning against her when the walls came crashing down. Looking back now, it was all so terribly unfair.

The wet nurse drooped the corners of her mouth and blinked a few times, "When you grow a bit older and stronger, you should also go to the Imperial Noble Consort Tomb to pay your respects to her. A person must retain their humanity while alive and never forget their roots. The sun shines brightly in the sky—don’t think that just because your luck is strong, nothing is forbidden. Good and evil will eventually be repaid; we must strive for peace of mind in the future."

The Crown Prince smiled faintly, "I’ll remember. When I’m able to travel far, I’ll ask my father for permission to leave the capital and visit Grandmother at Changrui Mountain."

The wet nurse nodded, "Many blamed your grandmother for the late Emperor’s death for love. I must speak up for her—she was pitiful enough, and this shouldn’t be blamed on her. She was only twenty-three when she died, swallowing that small golden seal—how difficult it must have been! When someone is about to take their own life, how can they think of others? The late Emperor had hurt her too deeply. At first, the two were so harmonious—who could have guessed the heavens would change so suddenly... When she was laid to rest, you also went to the mansion to mourn. You were close to her and insisted on approaching the coffin. Your grandmother always kept you by her side, but this time she ignored you. In your urgency, you called out ‘Grandmother,’ and even the late Emperor wept."

Memories from two or three years old were now hazy. Yet, hearing the wet nurse recount it in detail made it feel as though it were yesterday. He, too, felt sorrowful and asked her dejectedly, "How did my grandfather pass away?"The wet nurse’s face clouded with worry. “I heard she refused to eat or drink, tormenting herself to death. But as servants, we don’t know the full truth.”

More than a decade ago, the Prince of Nanyuan had been such a dazzling figure! He achieved success at a young age, with a handsome and well-proportioned appearance. When he married the Princess Royal, standing side by side with her, their perfect match, down to the very bone, was truly enviable. Such is the way of the world—imperfections endure, while perfection draws the envy of heaven. He was single-minded in his ambition to conquer the realm, a man of passion, for striving for the Central Plains was his lifelong aspiration. Yet love and ambition came into conflict. He hesitated, trying to balance both, never expecting the Princess Royal to be so fierce in her resolve. She refused to give him a final chance, sparing him the need to deliberate or salvage the situation—she had already made her own decision.

Beating his chest in regret, he realized only after losing her that without her, even conquering the world would be empty. After countless trials, living on alone in pale solitude was worse than departing together.

In the mourning hall, white curtains hung low, gradually yellowed from long exposure to smoke and incense… Wanwan had been gone for nearly half a year.

Many said it was improper to keep the coffin at home, that even when the Emperor passed away, he would reside at Jingshan for two years before entering the Underground Palace—there was no precedent for long-term enshrinement in the Hall of Heavenly Favor. He paid no heed to such advice. Though she was dead, he felt she still lingered nearby. Beneath the flowering trees, beside the pavilions—her shadow was everywhere. If he kept vigil long enough, he would surely meet her again someday.

Since discovering her needlework box in her room, he had found some solace. He knew she loved him; otherwise, why would she have made so many ornaments for him? Tong Huan said she hadn’t given them to him because Your Highness always felt they weren’t good enough. At times, she lacked confidence, unaware that even if she simply wound thread into a shape, he would joyfully hang it at his waist.

Yet it was a regret that during her lifetime, communication between husband and wife had been too sparse. He loved deeply, knew it himself, but never let her feel it. How lost and desperate she must have been in her final days—he dared not dwell on it. Now, he often sat beside her coffin, staring blankly at the carved nanmu patterns. Those thick layers of wood severed the connection between her and him. He pressed his face against it, wrapping his arms around as if to stroke it, as though she were still by his side.

“I’ve chosen a beautiful place, backed by mountains and facing the sea, where we’ll make our home. Your favorite Western Palace Crabapple—I’ve had them transplanted there. I went to see it the other day; the tomb chamber is nearly finished. In another month, I’ll come to you. On the day I depart, will you come to meet me? I’m afraid I’ll be unfamiliar with the place, spending too much time searching… This separation, I can bear it no longer.”

His wish was beautiful, believing that death settled all debts, that Wanwan was tender-hearted, and that with enough sincerity, she would surely forgive him. On the day of her burial, he forced his weary body to attend to every detail, finally sending the coffin into the Underground Palace. Watching the tomb door slowly close, he felt a great relief, like completing a task assigned by his Ama in childhood.

“Go and relay my words,” he said to Rong Bao. “Tell them not to seal the tomb door completely, lest it be troublesome to reopen in the future.”Rong Bao was horrified. "Master, you're thinking too far ahead. When the young master captures Beijing, he'll surely rebuild the imperial tombs. Your Highness's grave will have to be moved north anyway."

"Then don't make it a grand spectacle." He glanced toward the tomb passage. "She preferred quiet. Don't disturb her."

Rong Bao was uneasy, and the Imperial Concubine also sensed something amiss, insisting he return to the Princely Mansion. He didn't refuse, only saying, "There are still a few things to pack up. I'll go back once they're taken care of."

Madam Tala volunteered, "This servant will accompany the master..."

He looked at her with a faint, ambiguous smile. "You have quite the nerve."

He was frighteningly thin now, but those eyes could still pierce through one's very skin. Madam Tala faltered, shrinking back in fear. The Imperial Concubine frowned deeply. "Liangshi, how long are you going to keep this up?"

He said it would be over soon. "Everything is in the past."

Everyone believed him and let him return to Big Hat Lane. Once he passed through the drooping flower gate, he bolted it shut.

The residence was empty now, its people all gone. The vast mansion was deep, silent, and cold. The rooms hadn't been cleaned in a long time, dust settled everywhere. He walked over to the heated brick bed beneath the south window, bent down, and blew a breath. Dust exploded into the air, clouding one's vision.

This was where she had passed away. He reached out and touched the cold brocade cushion. Once they had walked separate paths; he could only hope they would return together now.

With effort, he climbed onto the footstool and settled at her final resting place. Turning to look outside, he saw withered plants and desolation everywhere. Tomorrow would be New Year's Eve. If she were still alive, she would be busy preparing for the New Year celebrations, and the entire Eldest Princess Residence would be bustling with joy—not like this.

With one person missing, everything was different. Leaning back against her Hidden Pillow, waves of cold washed over him... He used to not fear the cold, daring to go out in just a single layer even in deep winter. Now his spirit was scattered, useless, barely clinging to a breath of life, wasting away here until it was finally spent.

His life had been one of constant military campaigns, yet in the end, he hadn't held onto what mattered. He didn't even know what he had been so busy about. His only achievement was marrying her, but he had caused her such deep harm—he couldn't say whether it was right or wrong. In the end, he was a selfish and naive man. He had hoped she could still forgive him, but that hope had come to nothing. She never appeared anywhere outside his memories; even as he neared death, she still avoided him.

There was a hole in his heart, through which cold winds howled, piercing his entire being. Rolling up his sleeve, he looked at his wrist. At some point, the bite mark had grown fainter and fainter—the last connection between her and him was gradually disappearing, impossible to hold onto. He took out a small bottle from his robe and, with memories of past sweetness, swallowed its contents sip by sip. Then he began to sob softly. "Wanwan, where are you?"

No pain could compare to losing her. His dry eyes half-open, the white mist of his breath grew faint. Faintly, he seemed to hear her playing "Journey to Suzhou," coming from far, far away, beyond a thick darkness. He broke free from the confines of his body and chased after it desperately.

On the Platform of Yearning for Home, by the Stone of Three Lives, there was no trace of her. He wept bitterly across the rolling river, searching... but he could not find her. Never again would he find her.Someone passed by, stopping to look at him, then left after a while. A long time later, an old man came, shaking his head at him, "The fate is exhausted, why force it? You have the destiny of an emperor, go and be reincarnated."

He stubbornly refused, "I don't want anything, I just want to see her one more time."

"Is it worth giving up so much just to see her once?"

He said it was worth it, with a determination to burn his bridges.

"Then give it a try, only this one chance. If the marriage bond cannot be renewed, never think of her again for all eternity."

He went to find her, full of hope. On the forest path, he met her, only eleven or twelve years old, carrying a basket on her back, her eyes and brows delicate and lovely. Seeing him stumble, she hurried over to support him, "Are you alright, Grandpa?"

His whole body trembled. In a puddle of water after the rain, his reflection showed his appearance—hair graying, having reached the age of knowing fate. He was utterly despairing, unable even to cry. How could this be? Was this the so-called opportunity?

She was pure-hearted and kind, helping him sit on a stone by the roadside, taking out a bamboo tube to give him water. Afraid of frightening her, he dared not stare at her, but each occasional glance made his heart ache as if cut by a knife. He still remembered that year when the emperor held a banquet, the young eunuch who held an umbrella for him at the West Flowery Gate had the same clever eyes and flower-like smile. Back then, their ages were still compatible, but now? I was born before you, and you were born when I am old. What a great mockery from heaven! How could he explain past lives and present lives to her? It seemed the fate was truly exhausted, and forcing it was futile.

He wanted to call her name but finally gave up.

"Thank you," he forced a smile. "The forest is so big, why are you traveling alone, young lady?"

She pointed ahead, "My home is just up ahead. I'm going to the pond over there to pick lotus seeds... Would you like some lotus seeds? They're very fresh." She quickly put down her basket, picked two large ones, and offered them to him with both hands.

His face pale, he reached out to take them. His gaze lingered on her face, and after careful consideration, he asked, "Are you doing well... who is in your family?"

Her happiness was embedded in the corners of her lips. Though she found this person a bit strange, she still answered politely, "I'm doing very well. I have my parents and two older brothers at home. My eldest brother is getting married tomorrow, so I'll have a new sister-in-law soon. I'm picking lotus seeds to make lotus seed tea for entertaining relatives and friends tomorrow. Fresh lotus seeds are better than old ones—fresh ones have a delicate fragrance, while old ones lose their flavor, and I'm afraid the guests won't like them."

He nodded gloomily, watching her animated expression as a helpless melancholy crept into his heart. A different life, far from immense wealth, yet living more carefree. Her years were peaceful and beautiful, and he couldn't bear to disrupt them. He only gazed at her with lingering affection, tinged with sorrow.

She tilted her head to look at him, noticing the golden rings in his eyes and studying him a little longer.

"Are you here visiting relatives or friends? There are no households over there. If you'd like, you can rest at my home. My parents are very hospitable."

He shook his head, "I came to visit an old friend. Knowing she is well is enough."

She seemed to understand but not quite, "Did you see her?"

He said, "I saw her."

"Then why aren't you happy?"He held back his tears, forcing the corners of his mouth upward with all his might. "I originally wanted to take her away, but now it seems... it's not appropriate anymore. She has her own life, better than being with me. I always made her sad in the past, and now she has forgotten me. I... shouldn't harm her anymore, don't you think?"

She blinked, too young to understand such complicated relationships. After a long pause, she finally murmured, "Then you should take care of yourself too."

He stood up and handed the lotus seedpod back to her. "Keep it to brew tea when you return. I should go now."

Holding the lotus seedpod, she watched him walk slowly eastward. The morning sunlight fell on his temples. How strange—this person seemed familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere before.

She couldn't help but call out, "Will you come back here again?"

He stopped and said no. "I'll only come here once in my lifetime. As for where I'll go afterward, I don't know."

She felt deeply regretful but couldn't express it, so she stood still, watching him walk away, gradually disappearing into the golden glow.

From the other side of the woods came a voice calling, "A Chun... A Chun..."

She withdrew her gaze and hurriedly responded. It was Brother coming to fetch her.

"What were you looking at?" Brother took her basket off her back and slung it over his own shoulder.

She said it was nothing but couldn't help glancing back again. "I just met someone..."

Brother asked who it was. She thought for a long time. "He was a bit older, about as old as our grandfather. I feel like I know him, but I can't remember where I've seen him before."

Brother was startled and frowned in reproach. "What nonsense are you talking? I've told you not to come into the woods so early in the morning, but you never listen. See? You've encountered something strange!" He took her hand and started leading her back. "Hurry home, or Mother will worry."

She stumbled along, still looking back as she walked. But once they left the woods and saw the smoke rising from the rooftops, she forgot about the strange encounter, thinking only of her lotus seed tea and the new swing her father had made for her.