BEGW C47

you can find the previous chapters in nu

 

Chapter 47

The firewall in the Flowing Clouds Hall was burning exceptionally well.

Outside, the world was frozen and heavy snow was falling, yet the people inside had long since kicked the brocade quilt down to their feet without noticing.

A cold wind passed, and the fright-bird bells rang out in a crisp jingle.

Before dawn had broken, Jiang Yuxun knit his brows and suddenly opened his eyes.

He drew in a deep breath and, still shaken, stared at the dark-patterned canopy above, murmuring, “…Scared me half to death.”

It was all Ying Changchuan’s fault!

Jiang Yuxun gave the quilt a vicious squeeze.

After being grabbed by Ying Changchuan to chat for half the night, Jiang Yuxun had a nightmare.

In the dream, he had returned to modern times and even become a student again, seated in an oral examination room.

Before Jiang Yuxun could react, the invigilator—Ying Changchuan in a suit and bow tie—walked into the room and… proceeded to chat with him for the rest of the night in the dream.

Only just now, when the fright-bird bells rang and he mistook them for the class dismissal bell, did Jiang Yuxun finally startle awake.

Aaaah!

What grudge was this, what enmity!

Jiang Yuxun sat dazed on the bed for quite a while before gradually recovering his wits.

…

On New Year’s Day, officials rested and did not discuss state affairs.

But as the Director of the Department of State Affairs, Jiang Yuxun still had to verify the banquet procedures together with the officers under the Court of the Imperial Treasury.

The front doors of the Flowing Clouds Hall slowly swung open.

Jiang Yuxun took off his fox-fur cloak and handed it to the inner attendant, then walked in at an unhurried pace.

Hearing footsteps, the people busy in one corner of the hall all raised their heads in unison to look at him:

“Lord Jiang, aside from silk, porcelain, and the canopy curtains, what else should we send to Zherou?”

Jiang Yuxun quickened his steps, walked over, and took the gift list from their hands.

Those around him couldn’t help letting their gazes fall on Jiang Yuxun’s eyes, exchanging puzzled looks… Why were Lord Jiang’s eye rims a bit bruised-blue?

In the previous dynasty, Zherou had repeatedly sent troops to harry the borders and had even forced marriage alliances to extort tribute.

To this day, a princess remained there.

For the past two years, the Great Zhou and Zherou had not yet torn their faces, and relations remained relatively “peaceful.”

By custom, every New Year’s Day, the court prepared a lavish gift for her, to be sent north by envoys in the spring.

After glancing for a while, Jiang Yuxun said, “Why not send some medicinal herbs as well?”

“Very good, very good!” The person beside him immediately noted it down and, with utmost respect, said, “Zherou is bitterly cold. It is fitting to send medicinal herbs to Her Highness the Princess.”

The princess who had gone to Zherou for the marriage alliance bore the title “Lianyi,” and was about forty years old this year.

She was not a princess of the previous dynasty by birth, but rather the daughter of a relatively low-ranking noble.

Strictly speaking, “Princess Lianyi” had been invested by the previous dynasty and had little to do with the Great Zhou.

The reason this group of officials treated her with such respect was not only because of her status as a “princess,” but also because, in terms of blood relations, she could still be counted as the present Son of Heaven’s maternal aunt.

The Flowing Clouds Hall was extremely lively.

While reviewing the gift list, Jiang Yuxun also checked the prepared bolts of silk.

As he looked, he couldn’t help asking those around him, “How has Princess Lianyi been in Zherou these past few years?”

No histories of Zherou had been handed down, and “Princess Lianyi” had left less than three lines of record in the History of Zhou.

But Jiang Yuxun was curious about this former-dynasty princess who had lived in Zherou for over twenty years.

She might be the Great Zhou person who understood Zherou best today.

Seeing Jiang Yuxun ask, the official who had just recorded the herbs quickly raised his head and began to explain in detail:

“In answer to Lord Jiang, the king of Zherou holds the line without truly governing and resides in a royal court right next to our Great Zhou. Vast grasslands and deserts of Zherou are divided among three kings. The old Zherou king died in the royal court the winter before last. Princess Lianyi is now the Queen Dowager of Zherou.”

Because Zherou’s royal court was very close to the Great Zhou, envoys traveled back and forth every year, yet could not penetrate deeply into Zherou.

As he spoke, another person drew near: “Zherou has been cowed by His Majesty’s blows and doesn’t dare to harass our Great Zhou for the time being, but they still use forced marriage alliances to extort tribute from the small states in the west. Last year I led a party to Zherou and even saw the rare treasures sent by the various Western Regions states to the royal court…”

He paused and, as if recalling something, gritted his teeth: “In recent years Zherou has grown ever more arrogant, even detaining the princes of several Western Regions states in the royal court as hostages…”

At this, Jiang Yuxun suddenly set down what was in his hand and asked very earnestly, “May I ask, my lord, what rare treasures did you see in the royal court at that time?”

The official who had been to Zherou also grew serious. He thought carefully and answered, “Gold, silver, pearls, jade, exotic fruits and delicacies—everything one could want.”

Jiang Yuxun instantly held his breath.

As expected!

Zherou was greedy to the extreme, eager to sweep up all the good things from the Western Regions states subject to it.

If his guess was right, wheat seeds would certainly be among them.

Wheat originated in the Western Regions, where the varieties were more diverse.

Wheat’s nutritional value far exceeded millet’s; if suitable varieties could be found there and promoted, the physical health of the Great Zhou’s commoners might be improved in a short time.

Most importantly, a single mu of wheat could feed many more people than millet.

Jiang Yuxun unconsciously tightened his grip on the gift list.

The population of the Great Zhou was mainly concentrated in the north; seeking wheat varieties was imperative.

He had intended to ask whether the other had ever seen wheat, to confirm his conjecture.

But before he could speak, Eunuch Sang’s voice came from outside the hall: “His Majesty approaches—”

Before the words had fallen, Ying Changchuan had already entered the hall with Fei Jinyuan and Zhuang Yue.

Jiang Yuxun was about to bow when he suddenly heard a sharp intake of breath.

He lifted his eyes for a furtive glance and saw Zhuang Yue staring at his eyes in puzzlement.

What was going on—why was everyone looking at him?

In the next breath, even Ying Changchuan lowered his gaze and looked over.

He hesitated a moment, then couldn’t help saying in a gentle voice, “Beloved minister, did you not rest well last night?”

…Since when did Ying Changchuan care so much about his ministers?

Could it be that he was in a good mood because of the New Year?

Although Jiang Yuxun felt a bit puzzled, he still answered truthfully, “In answer to Your Majesty, I did not sleep well.”

“Why?”

With Ying Changchuan’s words, everyone in the hall directed their eyes to this spot.

No way—why ask so specifically!

Having thought he had dodged this ordeal, Jiang Yuxun once again tensed up.

Though he had long since grown accustomed to losing face, in front of such a large public… there was still a tiny, tiny bit of embarrassment.

Ying Changchuan lowered his eyes slightly to look at Jiang Yuxun.

The snow had stopped, and the sun, warm with a glow, poured wantonly through the wide-open doors of the Flowing Clouds Hall.

It plated a light gold over Jiang Yuxun’s eyelashes.

He shifted his gaze as if a little ill at ease.

After a few beats, he tried lowering his voice to say quietly, “…This minister may have been too engrossed in thinking about government affairs during the day, and last night, it seems I accidentally dreamed of Your Majesty.”

As he spoke, his tone suddenly took on a hint of resentment.

There was no need to guess—the dream and the dark circles were all thanks to Ying Changchuan dragging him into idle chatter last night.

The Flowing Clouds Hall suddenly fell silent.

A light breeze curled snowflakes, which fell gently onto the trembling petals of the peonies.

As he spoke, Jiang Yuxun’s eyelashes fluttered lightly.

Ying Changchuan’s hand, which had been poised idly at his side, seemed once again to pass through time and brush that familiar, tingling itch.

A misfortune within a blessing.

Ying Changchuan did not, before everyone in the hall, ask Jiang Yuxun exactly what he had dreamed.

Because he had lowered his voice, only the few around them had heard that treasonously irreverent remark.

After a moment of awkwardness, Jiang Yuxun quickly adjusted his demeanor.

By the time the New Year’s banquet began, on the surface he had already returned to his usual self.

His skin seemed to have grown ever thicker.

…

At dusk, as the bells pealed, the civil and military officials, nobles of merit, and their households, who had waited outside Xianyou Palace for some time, finally bowed their heads and stepped slowly into the hall.

The musicians sounded gilded bronze flutes.

Like phoenix calls soaring to the ninth heaven, the music instantly resounded throughout the entire great hall.

Coral was piled before the tables, and pearls and jade were everywhere.

But even these could not outshine the national-flower splendor of the peonies.

No sooner had they taken their seats, with the flute music not yet ended and before the emperor’s arrival, than everyone began exchanging glances and could not help whispering to one another.

“…Th-those are peonies.”

“Are they real or artificial?”

“I just secretly touched one—it-it seems real!”

The shamans of the Listening-to-Heaven Terrace read in each other’s eyes an irrepressible fright.

The north wind lifted the gauze curtains in the hall, making them billow up and down.

The musicians changed to another tune, and the hall gained the added strains of zithers and lutes.

The shamans supported the Chief Diviner, dressed in a light white ritual robe, as he slowly took his seat.

In the next moment, a shaman seated behind and to the left of Shang You lifted his eyes for a glance across the hall. Seeing that the emperor had not yet arrived, he could not help but secretly lean toward the peonies to take a sniff…

All of this fell under Shang You’s gaze, yet he did not stop it.

Unlike its opulent appearance, the fragrance of peony is extremely light and airy, only perceptible when one leans close.

The shaman could not help clenching his palms and, bending toward the petals, inhaled deeply…

In the next instant, that faint fragrance slipped into his nostrils like a silken thread.

“Ah—”

The shaman’s eyes widened as he cried out, retreating backward.

He strained to lower his voice, but at that moment everyone in the Flowing Clouds Hall still turned their gaze in this direction.

“…This—this is impossible.”

The shaman’s eyes bulged as though he’d seen a ghost, and he reached out to beat at the petals in front of him.

Another shaman, face iron-blue, hurried forward to pin him down firmly, but he still muttered as if possessed, “Xuantian—how can the will of Xuantian be defied…”

Just then, the music in the hall suddenly stopped.

The words the shaman had spoken—and his panic and fear—fell clearly upon every ear.

Indeed, had the Listening-to-Heaven Terrace not said that for humans, animals, and plants alike, life and death were all decided by Xuantian?

The peony, king of flowers, had unexpectedly appeared here today in defiance of Xuantian’s will…

Did Xuantian’s words hold any force after all?

At this thought, everyone’s eyes turned in unison toward Shang You, waiting for the Chief Diviner to offer a reasonable explanation.

Behind the gorgeously red peonies.

Shang You slowly closed his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he suddenly spoke: “Forgive me, to have made everyone laugh.”

Then, lowering his voice, he ordered, “Take him away. Do not disturb the holy presence.”

“Y-yes… Lord Chief Diviner.” Another shaman, hands trembling, dragged his colleague—who had lost all composure—out.

Shang You finally squeezed out a thin smile.

Peonies are not truly fragrant, but in that moment the simple floral scent became a ribbon that tightened hard around his throat.

Shang You opened his mouth. After a few quiet beats, sound finally came out.

“…His Majesty is diligent in governance and loves the people, peerless in civil and military achievements. This is the good fortune of the realm and all the people,” he fixed his vacant gaze upon the peonies and, in a slightly hoarse voice, said, “Today coincides with a festive day; one imagines that even Xuantian would bid the peonies come to lend His Majesty their grace.”

When he finished, he clenched his teeth hard.

Outwardly calm, Shang You’s heart had long since become a tangled mess.

Like that shaman, he did not know why these peonies had bloomed…

At the very instant Shang You’s words fell, the musicians behind the screen finally struck up a new tune.

The great bronze bell was struck again, heavily.

It thrummed and quivered, each stroke vibrating upon Shang You’s heart.

“His Majesty approaches—”

In the next moment, the eunuch’s sharp voice pierced the Flowing Clouds Hall.

A figure in dark robes slowly appeared behind the throne screen carved with taotie patterns.

The inner attendants were prostrated on the ground and had not yet drawn aside the screen.

Ying Changchuan’s clear, languid voice sounded from the other side.

He chuckled lightly and unhurriedly said, “Lord Chief Diviner has one point wrong.”

At the instant the emperor spoke, the drums and music stopped again.

The Flowing Clouds Hall fell utterly silent; in everyone’s ears there remained only the shallow sounds of their own breathing and heartbeats.

Shang You swallowed his broken teeth and blood.

He forced a smile with great effort: “May Your Majesty correct me.”

The inner attendant bent forward and drew the screen aside, little by little.

On the fifth dais, the Son of Heaven lightly twirled the wine cup in his hand and said lazily, “The blooming of the peonies is not the power of Xuantian, but the merit of Lord Jiang.”

Lord Jiang!

There were many ministers surnamed Jiang on the Great Zhou court.

But everyone had long since taken it for granted that the “Lord Jiang” in Ying Changchuan’s mouth referred to Jiang Yuxun.

In a flash, people could not help but lift their eyes toward the center of the hall.

At this time, Ying Changchuan raised his wine cup lightly toward Jiang Yuxun.

Beside the snow-white blooming peonies, the young Director paused for a beat and carefully lifted his cup with both hands.

At the New Year’s Banquet, Jiang Yuxun’s attire was more splendid than usual.

White jade, crystal, and turquoise hung in strings, shining brilliantly under the lamps.

Yet put together, they could not compare to the brightness of those eyes.

Jiang Yuxun smiled at the people in the hall. He did not stand on ceremony with Ying Changchuan; looking into the other’s eyes, he lifted his hand and drained his cup in a single draught.

The Flowing Clouds Hall was silent. Even the peonies at his side suddenly fell into the role of mere backdrop.

At the same time, Ying Changchuan lowered his eyes and drained the strong liquor in his own hand.

※

Ying Changchuan had always refrained from speaking much at such banquets.

Before long, the New Year’s Banquet officially began.

The musicians switched to yet another tune for performance.

This time, someone even sang along to the music.

“On the southern mountain a terrace, on the northern mountain there is millet. Joyous is the gentleman, the foundation of the state. Joyous is the gentleman, may his longevity know no end…”*

The atmosphere in the hall was lively; everyone ate and drank while moving closer to carefully admire the peonies.

Only Jiang Yuxun cared solely about eating.

“So beautiful. The flower next to me—isn’t it called ‘Black Dragon Bearing Abundance’?” Zhuang Youli asked Jiang Yuxun in a low voice.

“Yes,” Jiang Yuxun glanced at it and nodded, “Uncle also likes this one. After the New Year’s Banquet ends, I’ll arrange to have it sent to your home.”

“Excellent!” Zhuang Youli’s eyes lit up at once, “Mother will certainly like it too.”

With that, he lifted his wine cup and took small, furtive sips.

Seeing this, Jiang Yuxun clicked his tongue: “You’ve changed. Before, you used to say you didn’t drink.”

“Cough, cough…” Zhuang Youli turned his gaze aside, somewhat embarrassed, “I’m not a child anymore. Naturally, I can’t obey everything Mother says.”

Jiang Yuxun looked at him with a smile and said nothing. Zhuang Youli immediately glanced to the other side with a guilty conscience.

—Madam Zhuang had also been invited to the banquet; this sneaking around was entirely to avoid his mother’s gaze.

The saying “wine fortifies heroes’ courage” really was not false.

After a few cups of wine, Zhuang Youli gradually grew bolder.

His tolerance was also poor, and his face had already turned the color of a pig’s liver.

Cradling his cup, Zhuang Youli sighed to Jiang Yuxun: “A-Xun, you must be someone who dares to drink face-to-face with His Majesty, right?”

“Mm?” Jiang Yuxun froze for a moment, then gently shook his head, “I don’t know about that either.”

Zhuang Youli seemed already somewhat drunk. He tossed back a mouthful of strong liquor and slurred, “The last time… er, I saw…”

By now, the Flowing Clouds Hall had grown increasingly noisy.

The chatter of the crowd mixed with the bells and music, completely drowning out Zhuang Youli’s voice.

After listening for quite a while, Jiang Yuxun still did not understand what the other was trying to say.

A little curious, he leaned in, pressing his ear close to Zhuang Youli: “Wait, say that again—I didn’t hear clearly just now.”

“Alright,” Zhuang Youli cleared his throat, worked hard to straighten his tongue, and said word by halting word, “What I wanted to say is, the last time I saw anyone drink in such a manner face-to-face was at my sister’s wedding.”

When he finished, he nodded seriously to Jiang Yuxun: “It’s really strange, don’t you think?”

Jiang Yuxun: “What are you even connecting with what?”

Zhuang Youli really was drunk, wasn’t he!

Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help tossing back a mouthful of wine, forcibly steadying himself.

He turned and instructed the attendant behind Zhuang Youli: “Young Master Zhuang is drunk. Help him down first. Oh, and… make sure to avoid Madam Zhuang.”

Truly, he had done his utmost out of kindness!

The inner attendant stepped forward at once and received Zhuang Youli: “Yes, Lord Jiang.”

At the same time, the expression on Zhuang Youli’s face suddenly turned a bit odd.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but before he could make a sound, Jiang Yuxun blocked him with a single “Silence.”

Jiang Yuxun hurriedly leaned in and warned in a whisper at Zhuang Youli’s ear: “Saying this in my ear is fine, but if the emperor hears it, there will be trouble—understand?”

Zhuang Youli nodded with a look of terror on his face.

At the same time, he could not help glancing past Jiang Yuxun’s shoulder.

What was he looking at?

Jiang Yuxun was puzzled for a moment, then could not help turning his head to look in the direction Zhuang Youli was facing.

In the next instant, he, like the young man opposite him, was pinned to the spot.

…No way—when had Ying Changchuan come over?

How was he always so ghostly and everywhere at once!

“Y-Your Majesty…” Jiang Yuxun sprang to attention at once.

Ying Changchuan gave a light nod and said casually, “What just happened? Why did my beloved minister so frighten Gentleman Zhuang?”

There was not much strong liquor at the banquet—only two cups’ worth per person.

Though Zhuang Youli’s capacity was poor, he was at any rate not as smashed as Jiang Yuxun used to get.

At the instant he saw Ying Changchuan, he sobered up.

He also cast a pleading look at Jiang Yuxun.

If an ordinary man were singled out by the Son of Heaven like this, Zhuang Youli would not have been so nervous.

But today, the one called by name by Ying Changchuan was Jiang Yuxun, that great leaking sieve…

Jiang Yuxun: “…”

He really did want to cover for him.

But…

Forgive me, Zhuang Youli.

After a few beats of silence, Jiang Yuxun lowered his head slightly and tactfully sold out his teammate: “Just now Young Master Zhuang felt that the way this minister and Your Majesty drank face-to-face was somewhat… strange. This minister counseled him that such words are fine to say by this minister’s side, but by no means to say them to Your Majesty.”

Zhuang Youli cast Jiang Yuxun a look of despair and slowly closed his eyes.

“On the southern mountain there are mulberries, on the northern mountain there are poplars…”*

On the other side of the screen, the musicians continued to sing softly.

The wind blew snowflakes lightly onto the tip of Jiang Yuxun’s nose.

Suddenly, his ears grew quiet.

In the next moment, he did not see the Son of Heaven take offense.

Instead, he heard a soft chuckle.

“No matter,” Ying Changchuan instructed the inner attendant beside him, “Take Gentleman Zhuang to rest. And… bring him two more jars of new wine.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

The inner attendant hurried forward and helped the wide-eyed Zhuang Youli away.

Jiang Yuxun was dumbfounded…

Not only was Ying Changchuan not angry, he had even bestowed newly made wine, worth a fortune.

Why was he in such a good mood today?

…

Ying Changchuan, who ordinarily disliked such functions, did not remain long.

After a few pleasantries, he left the Flowing Clouds Hall with his attendants.

Yet Jiang Yuxun did not immediately set his mind at ease.

After Ying Changchuan left, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help lowering his voice to ask the little eunuch behind him, “When did His Majesty come down?”

Hearing this, the other smiled at once and answered, “From the moment you leaned in close to Young Master Zhuang and started listening to him speak!”

“Cough, cough, cough…”

The New Year’s Banquet lasted until late into the night.

Jiang Yuxun stayed until the very end before leaving the main hall of the Flowing Clouds Hall.

By then, Xianyou Palace had returned to silence.

Knowing his own tolerance, Jiang Yuxun had only drunk a cup and a half today.

Apart from the tips of his ears turning red, there was no sign of drunkenness.

By nightfall, the snow had thickened again.

Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help pulling his fox-fur cloak tighter around him and stood before the rear hall, looking toward the other side of Xianyou Palace.

The New Year in ancient times felt much more like a New Year than in modern times.

The only regret was that… it seemed to be missing a certain sound.

He had just thought of this when the sound of footsteps came from afar.

“Lord Jiang, Lord Jiang…”

A young eunuch, cradling a narrow wooden box, came trotting up before Jiang Yuxun.

“What is it?” Jiang Yuxun turned, curious.

The young eunuch presented the box with both hands: “This is from the people of the Curled Moon Hall, on His Majesty’s orders—a New Year’s gift.”

By “the people of the Curled Moon Hall,” he meant the alchemists of the Listening-to-Heaven Terrace.

Jiang Yuxun blinked, then immediately realized what the box contained.

He took the wooden box gently: “Very well; thank you.”

With that, he slipped a few bits of broken silver into the young eunuch’s hand.

“Not at all, not at all!”

The young eunuch quickly withdrew.

Holding his breath, a little nervous, Jiang Yuxun slowly opened the wooden box.

A familiar slender stick appeared before him.

As a modern person, Jiang Yuxun was more familiar with another use of gunpowder.

A few days ago, when visiting the Curled Moon Hall, Jiang Yuxun had tried describing modern fireworks to the alchemists, but he had not taken it too seriously.

…He had not expected that Ying Changchuan would have them make it for him.

Truly—think of something, and it arrives!

He had just felt that this New Year lacked fireworks and firecrackers, and the alchemists had delivered them.

Carefully, Jiang Yuxun took a firework in hand and walked over to a palace lantern set in the snow to one side.

He lifted his robe and sat on the steps, using the lamp flame to light the firework with care.

In the next breath, the slender stick in his hand sizzled with warm-hued sparks, like stars falling into his palm.

“Wow…” Though he had been prepared, Jiang Yuxun was still startled by the sudden flare of light.

He instinctively shut his mouth and glanced toward the palace gate in the distance, praying that Ying Changchuan would not hear.

But Heaven did not grant this wish.

Before Jiang Yuxun had finished uttering his prayer, a figure in dark robes appeared on the other side of the palace gate.

The flurrying snow bloomed like white plum blossoms in the air.

A few petals even fell upon Jiang Yuxun’s eyelashes.

He leaned against the stone lantern, seated upon the snow, and looked back toward the Son of Heaven.

The fireworks lit Jiang Yuxun’s cheeks—and those eyes, blacker than the sky.

Ying Changchuan had been about to step forward, but seeing this scene, he suddenly stopped where he was so as not to disturb it.

Only after one firework finished did he once more move forward, walking slowly to Jiang Yuxun’s side.

“Your Majesty—”

Coming back to himself, Jiang Yuxun immediately stood, preparing to bow to Ying Changchuan.

But the Son of Heaven lightly shook his head: “No need.”

Seeing his gaze fall upon the firework in his hand, Jiang Yuxun hesitated for a few seconds, then tentatively offered one: “Your Majesty, here is a firework for you.”

After a few beats, Ying Changchuan actually took it in hand.

Snow was still falling quietly; after the banquet, Xianyou Palace was even more tranquil than usual.

Even the palace attendants on duty were fewer than normal.

Though Ying Changchuan knew how this was done, he had never set off a firework with his own hands.

With that thought, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help softening his voice to explain: “Your Majesty can try lighting it with the palace lantern.”

Then he himself bent down and lit one first.

“Mm.”

The soft sizzling cut through the stillness of the night sky.

There were no stars and no moon tonight—only stars blazing in their hands.

The glow of the fireworks lit the faces of Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan.

Jiang Yuxun suddenly couldn’t help laughing.

In a past life, people often joked that although gunpowder was born in China, people only knew to use it for fireworks.

This wasn’t truly the case.

But for some reason, Jiang Yuxun thought… Even with weapons, one must never forget the fireworks.

The Son of Heaven’s voice was exceedingly soft: “What makes my beloved minister smile?”

Jiang Yuxun watched the little firework in his hand, his gaze intensely focused: “This minister was thinking… the Great Zhou must have guns and cannon to defend against enemies, and also fireworks to celebrate—neither can be absent.”

Unlike when he had first come, thinking only of survival, at this moment Jiang Yuxun could not help sketching the future—for himself and for the Great Zhou.

“…Someday in the future, tens of thousands of fireworks will surely blaze on the banks of the Yi River, illuminating a starless snowy night. Then not only we, but the civil and military officials of the Great Zhou—every commoner as well—will be able to see this resplendent firework display on New Year’s Day.”

Perhaps because the fireworks were so dazzling.

Jiang Yuxun’s eyes had never been so bright as they were now.

Ying Changchuan’s heartbeat quickened by a few beats in that moment.

Snowflakes drifted down, covering the red bricks and dark walls; between heaven and earth there was only a stretch of pure white.

As they spoke, the firework in their hands finally flared with a last burst of light and, in the blink of an eye, turned into a dull gray spent stick.

A mild disappointment and regret rose in Ying Changchuan’s heart despite himself.

But Jiang Yuxun did not take it to heart.

He gathered his fox-fur cloak around him, and carefully reached to take the firework from Ying Changchuan’s hand.

…Since this firework had been sent by the Son of Heaven, given his generosity, he certainly could not be stingy.

After giving himself a thorough talking-to, Jiang Yuxun finally took a deep breath, lifted his eyes, and gave Ying Changchuan a soft blink: “Happy New Year, Your Majesty.”

In the pitch-dark snowy night, it seemed, the world grew bright once more.

Author’s Note:

*Book of Songs, Lesser Court Hymns, “On the Southern Mountain”

Footnotes:

1. Flowing Clouds Hall, Xianyou Palace: Formal palace locales in this narrative; rendered as proper-noun halls and palaces per sense. 
2. Fright-bird bells: Small bells whose sound is likened to startling birds; used here as poetic ambient detail. 
3. Director of the Department of State Affairs, Court of the Imperial Treasury: High offices; titles rendered functionally to convey senior civil-administrative roles. 
4. Zherou: A steppe/desert polity to the north and west in this setting; treated as an external power engaged in tribute and coercive marriages. 
5. Listening-to-Heaven Terrace, Chief Diviner (Shang You), shamans: A state ritual-divination institution in this world; personnel titles translated per role. 
6. Xuantian: A supreme celestial will/fate in this belief system; invoked as the determiner of life, death, and seasonal order. 
7. Peony in winter: The peony (national flower) is seasonally out of place; its forced bloom signals horticultural/technological intervention versus divine will. 
8. “On the Southern Mountain…”: Lines allude to poems in the Book of Songs (Shijing), Lesser Court Hymns; hymnlike praise of the ruler and state order. 
9. “Black Dragon Bearing Abundance”: A peony cultivar name; translated descriptively to preserve imagery rather than botanical accuracy. 
10. Yi River: A principal river in this setting’s north; envisioned as a future fireworks venue symbolic of prosperity and peace.