Chapter 31: Lotus Stirring Spring Passions (I)

A gentle breeze passes by, stirring the lotus blossoms and sending ripples across the small boat. The endless green of lotus leaves stretches as far as the eye can see; dragonflies skim the water and alight on branches. From beneath the emerald leaves, a slender boat glides forth, revealing the delicate face of a beauty. She is dressed in a gauzy white skirt adorned with cloud patterns, her dark hair cascading over the bow, and at her ear coils a golden snake, its scales shimmering beneath a shaft of daylight.

Her graceful waist is half-buried under a heap of lotus pods and large leaves. Dai Dai peels a lotus seed and pops it into her mouth, gazing toward the distant palace with its soaring eaves, her eyes filled with laughter. She knows he is inside, diligently reviewing memorials. If she rows her little boat back, she will see him, throw herself into his arms—that is enough.

Moving from the Mingzheng Palace to the Daqing Palace for the summer meant fewer bothersome rules: no drums on the Hall of Heaven’s Gate, no strict times for court or dismissal—everything relied on self-discipline. Those who rose to high office as prime ministers were invariably self-disciplined and conscientious. Besides, these officials were learned and ambitious, unwilling to indulge in laziness or trickery. Steeped in the virtues of gentlemen, seasoned and quick-witted, they had legitimate reasons even for rest.

Dark clouds rolled across the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance. On an ornamental boat among the lotus, Chun Mo stood at the bow, anxiously watching the small boats searching for someone, unable to keep still.

Pushing aside the leaves, Qiu Yun was the first to spot Dai Dai. Seeing her shed her outer phoenix robe and bare her arms, she quickly instructed the other boats to keep their distance, then carefully rowed closer and gently coaxed her.

“My lady, please come back with me. Look at those dark clouds and hear the thunder—rain is coming.”

Dai Dai tossed a lotus seed into the gaping maw of the imperial snake, smiling brightly. “It won’t be heavy, just a light drizzle. The lotus leaves are so large; if it rains, I’ll hide beneath them. I won’t return to my chamber—it’s too stuffy.”

Qiu Yun stared, dumbfounded, as the snake flicked its tongue and devoured the green lotus seed with relish, marveling: even snakes eat greens?

The snake was tamer than a rabbit at Dai Dai’s side; she was long unafraid of it. Plucking another lotus pod, she peeled its seeds and continued, for the third time, to persuade Dai Dai.

“My lady, please return with me. If you cannot bear to part with these sweet lotus seeds, I’ll have them picked, cleaned, and served in a dish for you—so your hands needn’t get dirty.”

With that, she placed her own peeled seeds on Dai Dai’s spread skirt.

“Seeds peeled by oneself taste best,” Dai Dai said, crunching happily.

The snake, lacking hands or claws, had to win favor with Dai Dai by snatching a few seeds from her mouth. Seeing the small pile untouched, it slithered along the boat’s edge, its cunning tail deftly picking up and swallowing seeds one after another, swift as lightning. Qiu Yun blinked, and her dozen peeled seeds vanished.

After marveling inwardly, she returned to her task, patiently coaxing Dai Dai once more.

On the ornamental boat, Chun Mo, seeing Qiu Yun’s efforts fail again, bit her lip, disembarked, and rowed her boat back toward tranquility.

The most honored empress of Dayan—only the emperor himself could retrieve her.

It was near noon when Ji Ye finished half the towering pile of memorials. Rising to stretch, he suddenly noticed the quiet around him and the emptiness in his arms. He put down his red brush and looked around, only to find his clingy empress missing.

Thinking of Dai Dai, he smiled softly and asked, as if casually, “Li Fuquan, where is your mistress?”

Li Fuquan offered a cup of hot tea and replied cheerfully, “An hour ago, I saw her ladyship take an ornamental boat to the lotus pond. She hasn’t returned yet.”

At that moment, thunder rumbled overhead. Ji Ye’s heart skipped and his brows knitted. “Go quickly and persuade your mistress to return. Who is with her? Knowing rain is coming, why haven’t they stopped her?”

Li Fuquan nodded hurriedly and left, only to collide headlong with Chun Mo at the palace gate.

“Ouch!” Chun Mo landed on her backside, while Li Fuquan clutched his throbbing forehead, grumbling, “Chun Mo, why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

With the emperor and empress in perfect harmony, their servants were friendly and familiar, calling Chun Mo by name.

Chun Mo had no time to nurse her bruises. Seeing the black clouds surge across the sky, she said urgently, “Chief Steward, don’t complain—go report to His Majesty at once! Her ladyship is lingering in the lotus pond; no matter how we plead, she refuses to return. It’s enough to make one frantic!”

Thunder boomed again. Li Fuquan glanced at the ominous clouds and lightning, slapped his thigh, and turned back the way he came.

Another collision, a thump, and Li Fuquan found himself face-to-face with dragon-embroidered boots. He instantly adopted a trembling demeanor and kowtowed.

“Enough, rise. I heard everything.” Ji Ye looked down at Chun Mo, who dared not raise her head, and said coolly, “Your mistress is utterly spoiled by her favor—I should never have shown her any kindness. Prepare a boat.”

Chun Mo, unlike Qiu Yun, could not guess the emperor's mind; she didn’t know if his words were reproach or indulgence. Her heart fluttered anxiously as she hurried after him.

Li Fuquan scrambled to his feet. Though he wore a mask of nervousness, he was calm within. If Qiu Yun had heard those words, she would have been reassured—the emperor’s tone, though mild, overflowed with affection.

The waters of the lotus pond were vast; the lotus thicket stretched for miles, covering less than a fifth of its area. In summer, when the blossoms were at their peak, the broad leaves shaded the sky, and only slender boats could slip through—the larger ornamental vessels could not.

Standing at the bow, Ji Ye gazed at the lotus thicket, his hands behind his back clenching and relaxing, again and again. When he saw Qiu Yun’s boat return once more without success, his expression remained calm, but anger simmered within.

Thunder rumbled, wind rose, and rain began to fall in thin threads upon his long lashes. His body tensed, jaw clenched, his commanding dragon eyes narrowed. “Li Fuquan, you steer the boat—I will go myself.”

You Dai Dai, go ahead and make trouble; you force me to come fetch you myself—clearly, you’re itching for a lesson.

Deep down, he decided: once he got his hands on her, he would give her a good scolding—he wouldn’t stop until she cried and begged for mercy.

“Your Majesty, this... is absolutely unwise.” Li Fuquan, previously unconcerned, was suddenly anxious.

“No more words.”

Qiu Yun yielded her boat. Ji Ye stepped aboard, causing it to rock; his face changed briefly, then returned to composure. Li Fuquan quickly hopped in, straddling the hull to steady the craft, then helped Ji Ye, “Your Majesty, please sit; it won’t rock if you sit,” he whispered.

Ji Ye snorted, “What a spectacle!”

Li Fuquan agreed: for the Son of Heaven to squat awkwardly in a cramped hull like a coward—such indignity would damage imperial authority. He straightened his posture, letting Ji Ye stand proudly at the bow, like a general at sea, while he used all his skill to steady the boat.

The deeper into the lotus thicket, the higher the stems rose. Where Dai Dai lingered, the leaves were like umbrellas, and the blossoms so large that she could barely poke her head above them when standing.

“You Dai Dai, come out here at once!” Ji Ye called loudly.

Dai Dai had spotted him already and, grasping a lotus stem, stifled her laughter.

Ji Ye’s hearing was sharp; his dragon eyes narrowed, and, taking aim, he leapt skyward, flipping like a hawk to land behind Dai Dai.

“Ah—!”

Dai Dai cried out; the boat rocked violently. Ji Ye turned pale, grabbed her waist, and tackled her, pressing her close and holding her tightly until the boat settled again.

Li Fuquan, face spattered with water, hurried over, “Your Majesty, are you well?”

Between the leaves, Dai Dai’s unbridled laughter rang out, and Li Fuquan’s heart immediately eased.

He crouched at the stern, clutching a lotus pod and munching noisily.

Dai Dai, wasteful as ever, had picked far more than she could eat—half a boatful of pods. With Ji Ye, a strapping man, aboard, they could only recline atop the heap.

“Are you afraid of water, Your Majesty?” Dai Dai teased, lying against his chest.

Ji Ye’s face was as dark as the river mud, teeth clenched, his hand tight on her waist. “Go back with me—I'll teach you a lesson then.”

He had not yet spotted the imperial snake napping on the edge of the boat.