Moonlight on Pear Blossoms

Spring is late in the imperial capital; deep courtyards lie behind layer upon layer of gates.

Grass grows green before the steps, while geese vanish beneath the evening sky.

From upstairs, who will send news from afar? Resentment stretches on and on.

Such a tender heart is bound to invite trouble. I might as well give up, though here comes the Cold Food Festival again.

The lanes are quiet, swings deserted; the bright moon slants low, bathing the pear blossoms.

A dream ends. The clepsydra falls silent, sorrow deepens, and wine clouds the mind.

Cold seeps into the jeweled pillow; the emerald screen faces the dawn.

Who swept away the fallen blossoms outside? The night wind blew them down.

The jade flute falls silent. Where has its player gone? Spring has left again. How can I bear to let the promised return go unfulfilled?

This feeling, this regret, this moment: I would send a passing cloud to ask the Lord of Spring.

Li Qingzhao, “Moonlight on Pear Blossoms”

Soft silk drifted gently before her eyes. The dazzling yellow made her narrow them slightly.

“Open it and take a look!” Seeing that she did not move, the emperor spoke again, his voice soft.

Her slender, pale fingers picked up the silk decree and unfolded it. It was the familiar format, filled with the same grandiose, awkward wording. As each line passed before her eyes, one sentence pierced her heart: “Guo, daughter of Guo Zhuangtu, Marquis of Wudu, is virtuous and prudent, gentle and composed, obedient and blameless. She conforms to every standard of propriety and has long served with diligence. She shall receive the honor of the phoenix robes. I hereby appoint her Crown Princess.”

Her hand trembled slightly, but she still folded the silk gently, then placed it neatly back on the table.

A mocking smile appeared at the corner of the emperor's mouth. In a tone that was almost cruel, he asked, “What, you're not angry?”

She smiled faintly. “What right does a servant like me have to be angry?”

“Why wouldn't you?” The smile in the emperor's eyes grew stronger. “For his sake, you have no home to return to and no child you can acknowledge. You live in such misery.”

She shook her head indifferently. “I no longer have the right.”

“No right? What a fine thing to say.” The emperor suddenly swept his arm across the kang table. Paper, brushes, and inkstones crashed to the floor. Thick ink stained the boards, slick and crimson as blood. “You simply can't stand that I sullied you!”