Chương 74: Chapter 72

The afternoon light streams through the window of my study as I read the book lying open on the desk before me. The book in question is one of those Master Mu gave me, specifically the one dealing with channeling runes, that is, the runes used to direct the flow of Qi between the different segments of a talisman when it has a combined effect. And I have to admit that, of all the books she's given me, this is the one absorbing me the most.

The reason is as simple as it is unexpected, because the further I advance in the reading, the more it reminds me of something from my previous life. The logic underlying the channeling runes bears an unsettling resemblance to the little I know about programming, even with the more than obvious difference between the two disciplines. It's not that I learned programming in my other life, far from it.

But anyone who worked in a field as specialized as mine had to deal with macros and the odd basic script, especially if you wanted to customize certain programs, and the structures this book describes evoke exactly that.

It isn't exactly the same, but it's similar enough, as if the basic runes were the words, the specific runes the adjectives and adverbs, and the channeling runes the links functioning like the logical operators, the conditionals, and the connectors that make the entire talisman work like a program when it has to do several things at once.

And all of it with a handful of runes that have to fit on a sheet of paper no more than fifteen centimeters tall by five wide, and sometimes even less, at a level of optimization that would make a great many people in my former world weep. I turn another page with care, since Master Mu made it very clear that these books are for me alone and that if anything happens to them, she probably won't give me another copy.

And although I don't need it, since everything I read is preserved perfectly in my memory, I still like having the physical copies. Remembering a text will never strip me of the pleasure of holding a book in my hands and being able to read it. The chapter I'm reading now explains how a single rune can create a condition where the activation of one segment of the talisman automatically triggers the next only if certain prior conditions in the environment are met, conditions that must be encoded in a second rune.

It is, essentially, an 'if this, then that' written with ink and a few runes instead of dozens or hundreds of lines of code, and the elegance of the system has me completely captivated. I'm absorbed in the explanation of a group of conditional runes when I notice Lianhua entering the room and stopping at my side.

"Pardon the interruption, Zhāohuán Wen", she says in her usual tone.

"Guifei Xiang wishes to see you." At her words I sigh, closing the book after carefully placing a bookmark between the pages to mark my place, though a part of me protests silently at having to set the reading aside when I was at my most engrossed. I turn my head to look at Lianhua, who remains waiting at my side with her customary patience.

"Do you know why my mother is looking for me?" I ask, though deep down I already suspect that whatever it is, I'm probably not going to like it if she sent Lianhua with such urgency.

"Guifei Xiang did not say", Lianhua replies in a neutral tone, which tells me she probably suspects but doesn't want to say in case she's wrong. I nod as I withdraw my hands from the book on the desk and resign myself to the inevitable.

"Best to get these things over with as soon as possible", I tell her as I straighten up in the chair as best I can.

"Take me to see my mother so I can find out what she wants." Lianhua doesn't need to be told twice. She takes hold of my wheelchair with her characteristic firmness and proceeds to push me out of the study without further ceremony. The journey to where my mother is situated is short, but long enough for my mind to begin running through the possible reasons she wants to see me.

The options range from something related to my studies, to some court matter requiring my attention, to the possibility that she simply wants to talk, which, coming from my mother, can always mean anything from a pleasant chat to a veiled lecture. And as always, my mother is in the garden courtyard where she likes to paint.

But this time, instead of finding her seated with a brush in hand and that expression of serene concentration she adopts when painting, I see her seated before a Tiàoyuè board, which is the rather unimaginative name my father gave to the game of Draughts when I gave it to him.

Across from her, Lingxi occupies another chair with her usual imperturbable expression while studying the board with what appears to be genuine concentration, and several handmaidens surround them in various postures, apparently commenting on the moves on the board. My mother looks up as she hears us enter the courtyard and greets me with a warm smile.

"Wen, I'm glad you came so quickly", she says, and then her gaze shifts to the handmaidens as her tone acquires a gentle firmness that brooks no argument.

"Leave me alone with my daughter." The handmaidens, accustomed to the command, rise almost in unison and, after a brief bow, exit the courtyard discreetly, closing the door behind them. In the end only Lingxi, as is customary, remains in her seat without moving, since her presence at my mother's side is as constant as Lianhua's at mine. Once the sound of footsteps fades behind the closed door and the courtyard falls silent, my mother gestures to me. This book is hosted on another platform.

Read the official version and support the author's work.

"Come closer", she says. Lianhua pushes my chair to the table where the Tiàoyuè board rests, its white and black pieces arranged in the half-finished game she'd been playing with Lingxi. After we stop beside the table, my mother regards me in silence for an instant with that evaluating expression I know all too well, the one that always precedes something I don't expect. Finally, with a smile that slowly spreads across her lips, she speaks.

"Wen, darling", she begins in a tone that clearly brims with restrained amusement.

"Can you explain to me where a strange rumor that's spreading like wildfire through the Imperial Palace has come from, a rumor claiming that the Zhāohuán suffers from serious health problems that cause her sudden leg pains requiring urgent treatment?" At her words, my hand rises automatically to my head and I pinch the bridge of my nose with a gesture of weariness that is entirely genuine.

"It's only been one damned day", I say with a disbelief I don't even try to disguise.

"How is it possible that what happened in the park is already a rumor across the entire Imperial Palace?" My mother's smile widens visibly when she hears me, as though my reaction were precisely the one she'd been expecting, and when she replies, her tone carries that practical wisdom that can only come from someone who has spent years navigating the currents of the court.

"Never underestimate the speed at which imperial officials can spread a rumor or a piece of news", she tells me, leaning back slightly in her seat.

"Sometimes it's even faster than the speed at which gossip can travel through a market carried by the handmaidens and matrons who go there to shop." I can't stop a grimace from escaping at the comparison, because deep down I know she's absolutely right. But my mother's smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and her expression turns serious as she looks at me directly.

"But it's impossible for you to suddenly develop leg pains out of nowhere", she says, and the way she pronounces it makes it clear this is not a question but a statement of fact.

"So I'd like to know where exactly this rumor came from." I sigh, because I knew this question was coming, though not this soon, and because there's no point in trying to dodge it, since my mother has a special talent for extracting the truth with or without my cooperation. So I tell her everything.

I tell her how, while having a quiet lunch in the park with Lianhua and Xia, first Sun Rui and Sun Hong appeared, and then Sun Quiming and Sun Lan, each group with their respective retinue and with a cordiality toward a sister they had ignored their entire lives that was as sudden as it was suspicious. I explain how, as the conversation progressed, I grew to suspect they weren't there for me but for Master Mu, and that what they wanted was to use me as a gateway to her and her knowledge.

And finally, I recount how, unable to endure the situation any longer and finding no diplomatic way to escape, I decided to fake a sudden bout of leg pain so I could leave before things got even more complicated.

My mother listens to my account with a seriousness that holds firm through the first part, her expression one of concentration, but when I reach the part about my escape plan, I see the corner of her lips begin to tremble, first almost imperceptibly, then with less restraint, and by the time I finish telling her how Lianhua carried me out of the pavilion in her arms at a speed somewhere between a brisk walk and an outright run, my mother can no longer contain herself and begins to laugh.

It is not a thunderous or vulgar laugh, but a contained one that shakes her shoulders and makes her bring a hand to her lips in a gesture that is more from habit than necessity, yet is no less a complete and genuine laugh for it. And I stare at her, dumbfounded, because of all the reactions I expected from her in response to my stunt, this one wasn't even on the list.

"Mother, don't laugh", I say in a tone that tries to be serious but, I have to admit, sounds more like a complaint than a protest.

"It may not have been the best of ideas, but it was the only one I could think of in the face of a situation that was growing more uncomfortable and absurd by the minute." My mother stops laughing when she hears me, though the smile that lingers on her lips makes it clear, to my chagrin, that the memory of what I've told her will go on amusing her for a long time.

"I'm not laughing just at your little stunt, Wen", she tells me, and her smile takes on a shade that is half amusement and half something resembling satisfaction.

"I'm also laughing at the audacity of the Second and Third Princes, who tried to corner their sister to squeeze out a scrap of information that will barely give them an advantage, only to end up empty-handed."

"And on top of that, now that it's done, they can't complain or make a scene", she continues, still smiling.

"Since in principle it's a problem related to your condition, which they surely know nothing about given that they've ignored you your entire life, if they were to claim now that it was a ruse, they'd reveal they know nothing about you, which would cost them a reputation they can't afford to lose right now." Hearing her words, my mother's comment about my half-brothers' reputation simply passes through my mind as I frown and something clicks in my head with an almost audible snap.

"Mother", I say, looking at her intently.

"From the way you're talking, it sounds like you know what my half-brothers were after." My mother returns my gaze with an expression of sympathy, something that sets off every alarm I have, because if she's looking at me like that, it means what they were after may, in some way, actually be connected to me.

"I suspect as much", she replies simply, an answer so terse it nearly makes me grind my teeth.

"And what exactly were they after?" I ask quickly, leaning forward slightly in my chair with an urgency that probably betrays too much of my interest. But my mother, still regarding me with sympathy, shakes her head gently at my question.

"I'm not going to tell you", she answers, and before I can protest, she continues.

"It's something Master Mu herself will tell you in due time, and even before the month is out." I huff before I can stop myself, and the sound that leaves my lips is so inelegant I'm sure my Etiquette tutor would have a fit if she heard me.

"Secrets again", I complain, crossing my arms over my lap in a gesture more befitting a sulking child than my mental age.

"Well, the next time I see Master Mu I intend to tell her everything and ask her directly about what they were after." My mother looks at me with that expression that is half indulgence and half warning, the kind only mothers, regardless of the world, are capable of producing.

"You can do as you please", she tells me calmly.

"But remember not to bother Master Mu too much." I open my mouth to reply, but close it immediately upon realizing I have no argument to offer against that, since bothering Master Mu is probably the last thing I want to do, especially considering she's the person teaching me everything I know about talismans. My mother, seeing that I don't argue back, seems satisfied with the outcome, and her expression softens as she changes the subject with ease.

"Setting that aside", she says, her tone growing warmer.

"It's been a long time since you and I had a proper conversation." And hearing her, I can't help but realize she's right. Between my regular classes, the lessons with Master Mu, my cultivation sessions, and the thousand and one minor obligations that come with my mother's position, my conversations with her have been dwindling to brief exchanges during meals and the occasional consultation on specific matters.

"Tell me", she continues, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers in a gesture I find as familiar as it is comforting.

"How are your regular classes going? What have you been up to lately? And above all, how are your lessons with Master Mu coming along?"