Chapter 56: Dream

Jiang Changbai wanted to shout at her, but when she tried to speak, she discovered that, gathering up all her strength, she could only make a croak in her throat that didn't even manage to become a sentence; she couldn't even move, as if some unseen force had confined her atop the bed. Thin threads of terror arose as her body was out of her control, each one interweaving to become a great cocoon that surrounded her. At this moment, Jiang Changbai could only comfort herself that the person by her side was Song Juguang—regardless of what she was about to do, she would never harm her.

The strange matters came one after the other. Outside, the rainstorm was torrential and the winds came in gales, but Jiang Changbai, whose clothes had been lifted up, couldn't sense a chill in the slightest. From her waist, a number sensation arose; she couldn't turn her head, yet she could still see Song Juguang's motions. In this dazed state, her spirit rose from her body, fluttering midair and looking at it all as an observer. She saw Song Juguang earnestly rub the ointment on her waist in circles, but though her perspective was already so disengaged, the tactile sensation still lingered.

Jiang Changbai felt this scene was too illicit, yet she had no strength to resist it, and could only let Song Juguang be unbridled. But she hadn't expected Song Juguang seemed to be displeased with this; she suddenly drew closer, the tip of her nose pressed against Jiang Changbai's. "How come Bixia isn't saying anything? Could it be that this minister's ministrations aren't any good?"

As soon as Song Juguang spoke, Jiang Changbai's spirit, which had fluttered out, was pulled back in a flash. But she inexplicably closed her eyes—closed them tight, and no matter what Song Juguang said or did, she wouldn't open them.

Regardless of what emotion it emerged from, at this moment, Jiang Chanbgai's heartbeat ought to speed up. But she was calm and collected, such that she couldn't even sense the sound of her heart beating. It was just that she couldn't understand how this situation had advanced to this state; she felt that everything that had happened after Song Juguang had come through the door felt preposterous beyond belief; the two hadn't seen each other for merely two shichen.

Whatever Song Juguang was murmuring, Jiang Chanbgai couldn't hear clearly, nor intelligibly. Character after character wormed its way from her ear into her mind, but they left behind a blank space.

"Bixia," Song Juguang suddenly said resolutely, "this minister braved the rain tonight to bid you farewell."

"What are you saying?" Jiang Changbai finally could understand, and the great shock made her open her eyes. The shackles that had been on her body previously all disappeared in a flash. She instantly sat up, not paying any attention to the disarray of her clothes, her hands fastening on Song Juguang's shoulders, even the joints and veins visible. "Where are you going?"

At this moment, Jiang Changbai could still not see Song Juguang's face clearly, as if there was a mist between them that had been separating the two of them the entire time. She couldn't see her expression, and could see her eyes even less clearly, and so she had even less of an ability to learn what Song Juguang was thinking. Not even just then, when her hands and legs had been restrained, had such a panic flooded her mind. Seeing Song Juguang hadn't answered, Jiang Changbai asked again, "Where are you going?"

Yet Song Juguang said, her tone indifferent, "Naturally, this minister must return to where she came from."

"The place you came from," Jiang Changbai said, dazed. "Is it your hometown? But the rainy season of the past few years—"

Jiang Changbai knew where Song Juguang's hometown was; back then, the refugees who had been with Song Juguang had all come from there. But this this name, which she'd spoken over and over, she couldn't say at this moment no matter how she tried, her mind seeming to be a blank space; no matter how she thought, she couldn't think of that place's name.

"It's not Shanlin county," Song Juguang said unexpectedly, shaking her head. "In the past few years' rainy seasons, Shanlin county was entirely drowned by a landslide. The disaster relief efforts were managed by Prince Ling, as you must know, Bixia."

Jiang Changbai, bewildered, nodded; she seemed to remember that it was so.

"The place this minister needs to go is far further away than Shanlin county; with this goodbye, I'm afraid the it will be very hard for the two of us, regent and minister, to meet again," Song Juguang said, her tone still detached; it was as if there wasn't the slightest bit of emotion held in her words, and as she spoke, she pulled something out of her bosom. "This is the Cangwei army's tiger tally; after this minister leaves, I hope that Bixia will treat these troops well."

The tiger tally laid, silent and unmoving, in Song Juguang's hand. This was the source of the estrangement between the two. Jiang Changbai had fantasised countless times about the scene of receiving it, yet she'd never imagined it would be like this, her entire person feeling like it had been struck by a tremendous grief. "What are you saying!" Jiang Changbai said, wanting to stop her, but when she spoke, she found that her entire being had once more been restrained. The words she wanted to speak could only remain in her mind, and she could only watch Song Juguang set the tiger tally down without hesitation, and, without looking back, walk away.

The rain outside the window still fell, but right now, it was as if it were raining in Jiang Changbai's heart as well.

Only by the time that the hem of Song Juguang's clothes disappeared was Jiang Changbai finally able to throw off the shackles on her. She threw herself forward, but in a flash, she lost her centre of gravity. The heavens and earth turned upside down, and when Jiang Changbai opened her eyes once more, Xun Zhu was just about to blow out the candle burning atop the table.

The rain fell with a pattering sound; along with the sound of the rain, a fell from the corner of Jiang Changbai's eye, rolling down. She raised her gaze to blankly look about; she was still in the imperial study. The cloak that had been draped over her shoulders slipped down along with her motions; Xun Zhu, hearing the sound, turned her head to look with some astonishment. "Bixia, you've woken up," Xun Zhu said, coming over to pick up the cloak. "It's not early; why don't you go to the Yangxin Hall to sleep? Your health is important."

"What about Song Juguang?" Jiang Changbai seemed to have understood something, yet she still asked, not at ease.

Xun Zhu, asked this, grew dazed; only after thinking a while did she say, "Wangjun already left at xushi?"^[1]

"Is that so; We forgot," Jiang Changbai said with an embarrassed laugh, and finally determined that everything from before had been a dream. "Let's go back—We've grown tired."

Outside, Xun Zhu had already raised up an umbrella; but just as she was about to step over the threshold, Jiang Changbai glimpsed that medicinal jar that Song Juguang had brought over during the day. Thinking it over, she walked back, and tucked it into her sleeve.

The rain seemed to grow a bit lighter.

---

A few successive days of years had scrubbed the capital city clean. Even the dust in the air had grown a bit less, and it was a lot more fresh and clean than it usually was. Today, the storm clouds finally dispersed, and the temperature rose a great deal once more. Luojie Street could already on an average day be counted as one of the very most bustling of the capital's streets, the vendors' stalls and peddlers of all kinds a continuous stream. But today, the rubbing of shoulders and brushing of heels was even more lively than on any average day.

Most of the items sold on Luojie Street were cheaply priced, and as a result, those who came and went were mostly the common people, or the servants of some residence or other; but now, looking about, it was all high-ranking officials and nobility, attired in sumptuous clothes.

And at the very centre of the crowd, kneeling and wearing prisoner's clothing, was a loose-haired man. This person was Lian Zhigao. After Lian Zhigao had been sent under escort back to the capital, there hadn't been the time to interrogate him, when, in the dark of night, someone had cut out his tongue and snapped the tendons of his wrists. Knowing that he no longer had worth as someone to be interrogated, Jiang Changbai had simply stamped her vermilion seal and issued an imperial decree for a beheading.

His very last worth was as a warning to others. When his head hit the ground, if they wanted it to be the very most effective, naturally the more people saw it, the better. So, all the important officials in the capital were now gathered on Luojie Street, which could also be counted as the last journey they sent this former colleague of theirs on.

Jiang Changbai had changed her clothes as well, and along with Song Juguang, she sat in a private room in a restaurant along the street that had long since been reserved. On the surface, it was only the two of them..

Having had a bizarre dream that night, when Jiang Changbai had seen Song Juguang once more, she'd felt strange. Song Juguang had noticed the different in Jiang Changbai as well, but despite much thought, she'd remained puzzled, and so could only place the blame for it on the the that letter that had been revealed during the day. The two hidden this matter away in themselves by tacit understanding, and neither of them mentioned it.

The executioner was a woman of tall, broad statue. The executioner hadn't been an executioner before—in the past, she'd been a pig slaughterer. Others had felt that this profession was unlucky; even her own mother had been looked down on by the neighbours. Only when it came to this regime had she wracked her mind and sought this executioner's position; no matter what, it counted as a minor governmental position.

But today was her first day on duty. The blade in her hand had cut through the skin of countless pigs, but today was the first time it was about to cut off a human head. Everyone's gaze was on her, and without meaning to, the executioner's back straightened even further.

But amongst these countless gazes was one fierce one, which wished to be able to chop through the executioner's neck before she could manage to bring the blade down.

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Translator's notes:

[1]: 戌时, 7:00pm to 9:00pm.