Chapter 7 — A Lifetime's Delayed Longing

This is not a gift for you.

It is the money for those pairs of red candles from the dream.

I stared at him in quiet astonishment. He placed the small wooden box gently upon the stone step beside us.

I once asked the Bureau of Palace Attendants whether there were any elder female officials who had retired due to illness and now found themselves entirely destitute and alone. This silver, if you are willing, should be used to build a separate wing for them so they might recover in peace.

I looked down at the box for a long, quiet moment before gesturing to the junior maid behind me to take it.

I shall record this in the ledgers.

Huo Qingci nodded.

Very well.

He took a single step back. He did not utter my given name anymore. Nor did he say that he would wait for me. He simply offered a formal, respectful bow.

Lady Nguyen, take good care of yourself.

I returned the gesture.

May Young Master Huo take good care of himself as well.

This final farewell felt as though a frayed, ancient thread had finally snapped once and for all.

Two years later, I had risen to become the chief administrative lady of the Bureau of Ceremonial Protocol. Meng Huaizhou was promoted to senior director of the palace. The Empress smiled, noting that her icy demeanor would now allow her to govern even more people. Upon hearing this, Meng Huaizhou merely replied:

This subject obeys the imperial decree.

Standing right beside her, I nearly burst out laughing. A moment later, she turned to ask what I found so amusing.

It is just that Senior Sister Meng has become senior director and yet remains completely unchanged, I said.

She cast a sidelong glance at me.

You are hardly any better off.

Nowadays, all the junior maids are terrified of you.

I froze in genuine surprise.

Terrified of me?

Yes.

They say that when Lady Nguyen inspects the ledgers, even a single misplaced thread will not escape your notice.

I could not help but smile. That was just as well. It was infinitely better than being accused of arrogance, jealousy, and stealing another person's destined match. After the convalescent home for the retired palace women was completed, the Empress personally bestowed upon it the name Everlasting Spring Lodge. I went to inspect it with my own eyes. The small courtyard stood nestled behind the western alleyway, shaded by a few pomegranate trees. Those women who had stepped down from service due to failing health finally had a true sanctuary to call home. I entered the funds from the box Huo Qingci had provided as the very first entry in the new account book. The description read: Anonymous charitable silver, used to construct the eastern wing of Everlasting Spring Lodge.

He never came to inquire about it again. Word reached me later that he had been appointed to a post outside the capital. Three years passed without a single return. The Nguyen family had undergone profound changes as well. My eldest brother had taken a wife. My new sister-in-law was sharp-witted, capable of riding horses, and exceptionally skilled with accounting ledgers. The very first time we met, she shoved a packet of homemade dried meat directly into my hands. Our aging mother had grown a little frail. Whenever she saw me now, a subtle hesitation always lingered in her eyes. One year, when I returned to the family estate to pay my respects to our grandmother, Mother took my hand and suddenly confessed:

Tang Van, the year you entered the palace, I always believed you resented me.

I looked up at her. Her eyes were red.

After Xingyu passed away, she told me that I had placed far too much of an emotional burden upon her shoulders, and forced far too many grievances upon you that you should never have had to bear.

I remained silent. Mother choked back a sob.

It was this mother who failed you.

These words had arrived far too late. They came at a time when I no longer spent my days yearning to hear them. Yet now that they had finally been spoken, a heavy ache still settled in my chest for a moment.

It is all in the past, I whispered softly.

She wept all the harder then. I was no longer the child who would throw herself into her mother's embrace. Instead, I simply handed her a handkerchief. Some maternal bonds, once severed, leave permanent scars. Being able to speak to one another again was already a blessing. Grandmother's health remained remarkably robust. Her greatest joy was seeing me dressed in my official female court robes. Without fail, she would reach out to stroke my sleeves and say:

Our Tang Van has truly grown into a woman of grace and standing.

I laughed. Grandmother says that every single time.

She chuckled as well.

And I shall never grow tired of saying it.

People within the palace frequently advised me that, having reached the proper age, I could petition the Empress for permission to leave the service and seek a suitable marriage outside. The Empress herself asked me about it once.

If you wish to leave the palace, this palace can make the arrangements for you.

I pondered her words for a very long time before finally shaking my head.

This subject wishes to remain.

The Empress looked closely at me.

You have no desire to marry?

I smiled.

Not for the time being.

The palace ledgers are numerous, and the ritual vessels are vast.

This subject can still manage them all.

The Empress laughed softly.

Then continue to manage them.

I stayed. Not because I was imprisoned by the towering palace walls, but because I had finally chosen a path that I could walk by my own free will.

When Huo Qingci finally returned to the capital, I was twenty-four years old. He had been assigned to a post within the Ministry of Rites. On his very first day of official duty in the palace, he happened to cross paths with me as I was inspecting a new batch of tribute ritual vessels. He was far more composed and steady than he had been in the past. His brow and eyes remained strikingly handsome, but the sharp, biting frost of his youth had softened considerably. Catching sight of me from a distance, he came to a halt.

Lady Nguyen.

I returned his greeting.

Lord Huo.

We stood upon the grand palace corridor, separated by a distance of three paces. His gaze drifted over the junior maids and the inspection ledgers behind me, and he spoke in a low voice:

You are doing very well now.

I offered a faint, serene smile.

Indeed.

This time, I felt no need for false modesty. I was indeed doing very well. I held a proper official rank, a defined duty, the Everlasting Spring Lodge which I had helped bring into existence, and a group of junior maids who were simultaneously terrified of me and eager to stuff pastries into my hands.

He nodded slowly.

That is good.

He did not bring up the dreams of the past. Nor did he mention the bygone years. He merely drew a memorial document from his sleeve.

The list of newly arrived tribute ritual vessels from the Ministry of Rites, requesting inspection by the Bureau of Ceremonial Protocol.

I stepped forward and accepted the documents.

The official review will be returned in three days.

Thank you for the trouble, he said.

As we brushed past one another, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Nguyen Tang Van.

I turned my head. He looked as though he wanted to say something profound, but in the end, he simply murmured:

Thank you.

I felt a brief flicker of confusion. His gaze wandered toward the far end of the palace wall.

If you had not chosen to leave back then, perhaps I would have spent my entire life unable to distinguish between lingering guilt, mere habit, and true affection.