A Skillful Hand Produces Fragrance - Chapter 1

Time is perhaps the only thing in this world that can be obtained without cost, remains beyond human control or influence, and marches resolutely forward, regardless of whether the recipient is willing or not.

In the early spring of the twelfth year of the Qianyuan era, in the north of Gusu City, the Prince of Qin’s residence stood with its vermilion paint and blue-grey tiles, its eaves corners soaring sharply and elegantly, clean and decisive without the slightest hint of drag. This standard Jiangnan-style building was draped in red and green decorations, radiating an air of celebration from every corner.

He Hancha leaned back against the indigo-blue silk-soft pillow embroidered with gold thread. Through the small, square window of the room, she caught sight of the large red lanterns hanging from the beams. She turned her head with a smile and asked, “A Chan, is our An’ge getting married today?”

“You’re right! Just yesterday, His Highness the Prince of Qin came to the courtyard gate to pay his respects. Hearing you were napping, he said he’d bring the new bride to see you in a couple of days.”

The middle-aged woman in coarse clothing beside He Hancha replied, her tone unable to conceal its coaxing and soothing nature.

He Hancha smiled cheerfully, pursing her lips. She was about to speak when a thick, sweet, metallic taste surged up her throat. With a violent cough, a patch of crimson instantly stained the plain, simply bordered quilt.

“A Chan!” He Hancha didn’t even have time to wipe the blood from her lips, calling out urgently, “Quickly! Don’t let anyone see. Take it to the laundry—no, no, we’ll wash it clean ourselves! We can’t let others know! Today is An’ge’s happy day, we mustn’t let me ruin the auspicious atmosphere!”

A Chan hurriedly rushed over, gathered the quilt into her arms, and, head bowed, walked out. Just outside the door, a young maid reached out to take it. The tears she had been hiding in her eyes could no longer be held back, falling rapidly. “Auntie Chan, our side consort is so pitiful… Today is her own son’s wedding, and the Grand Consort has confined her to her room… And the little Prince of Qin too, he just made a brief appearance yesterday. I told him clearly that the side consort has been coughing so badly she’s spitting blood… Yet His Highness just nodded and told me to stew more pear syrup for her…”

As if overcome by grief, the young maid’s sobs suddenly grew louder. “If pear syrup could cure the side consort, I’d stew it all the time, every day…”

A Chan quickly covered the maid’s mouth, scolding in a low voice, “Must you be the one to cry!” She looked down at the patch of bright red, her eyes reddening. “Alright, alright. Her Ladyship seems a bit more spirited today than yesterday. Let’s not upset her further…”

The door wasn’t shut tightly. He Hancha heard the voices outside fade away. She leaned against the soft pillow, dazed, her gaze fixed motionless on the wind lifting the red lanterns, the red tassels beneath soaring high, forming a beautiful arc.

He Hancha smiled along with that gust of wind.

Old now, and others finally think she’s pitiful.

Think back twenty years, who wouldn’t have said with envy about the assistant cook girl, Chuan’er, from the Western Six Compounds—”That girl has such good fortune!” Skilled in both meat and pastry dishes by thirteen, everyone praised her cooking. Then she was assigned to the then Fourth Prince, Xu Kai. Because she was honest and steady, she was designated by Prince Xu Kai’s birth mother, Consort Shun, to be his bedchamber attendant. Later, when Xu Kai married his primary wife, she followed him out of the palace to establish his residence and became his concubine.

Later, when the Princess of Qin, Lady Zhang, couldn’t bear children, her contraceptive medicine was stopped, and she gave birth to the Prince of Qin’s first son, Xu Kangan…

He Hancha smiled, yet felt a dampness at the corners of her eyes. Wiping it with the back of her hand, she realized the tears were already flowing uncontrollably.

And after that… The Prince of Qin died suddenly. Lady Zhang became the Grand Consort Dowager of Qin. Her son became the little Prince of Qin. People respectfully addressed her as “Side Consort Dowager He,” but in reality? After Xu Kangan was born, the Prince of Qin took him directly to the main residence. She had never once held her own child in her arms. Not once.

The Prince of Qin and Lady Zhang treated her like a dose of poison, believing that if An’ge were contaminated by even a bit of her, he would instantly be doomed beyond redemption.

“Waa-waa—”

The festive suona sounded loudly.

He Hancha was startled, jolting. Then she let out a long, slow breath. On the stool by the bed sat a bowl of pear syrup. With difficulty, He Hancha reached for it, took a sip in her mouth. The taste was slightly bitter.

She frowned, scooped a spoonful, and realized the pear core hadn’t been removed. If you don’t remove the core, the soup turns bitter.

He Hancha was taken aback for a moment, then simply put down the spoon, lifted the bowl, and drank it all in one go.

If An’ge wanted her to drink it, then she would drink it.

She had been obedient her whole life. As a palace maid, she listened to the matrons. As a bedchamber attendant, she listened to the Fourth Prince. As a concubine, she listened to the Princess Consort… A lifetime of trepidation, all for the sake of staying alive. She had been afraid her whole life, afraid that one day the punishment would fall upon her—she had seen people beaten to death with canes. It was Xiao Qiu’er from the laundry alley. Because she wrinkled a plain silk undershirt, the eunuch rewarded her with twenty strokes. The flesh on her back was beaten to a pulp, a sunken, wet mess, emitting a foul, rotting smell. Not long after, Xiao Qiu’er died.

He Hancha shrank deeper into herself, her hand touching the book beneath the pillow. It seemed to still carry a trace of that cold, crisp scent of pine and cypress, which offered a slight sense of peace.

At night, celebratory fireworks burst into the sky in clusters from outside Gusu city walls, lighting up the night as if it were day. The commoners within the city walls cheered and rejoiced; a feudal prince’s wedding was a grand celebration, signifying that next year’s taxes would only decrease, not increase.

The Prince of Qin’s residence, inside and out, was also filled with a joyous, boiling atmosphere. The pungent smell of wine and gunpowder smoke mixed together was everywhere.

Yet He Hancha was shivering violently, curled into a ball on the bed, sometimes cold, sometimes feverish. A Chan had piled three layers of thick quilts on her, but still heard her muttering, “C-cold… so cold…” A Chan, her eyes full of tears, tightly grasped He Hancha’s hand and called out loudly, “Go fetch the physician! Quickly, go get the physician!”

“Fetch what physician?”

The door creaked open.

For a moment, the room was filled with that strange cacophony from outside, only to suddenly fall quiet again as the door closed.

A Chan hurriedly knelt on the ground, kowtowing heavily three times. “Grand Consort, the side consort has been having violent chills since the afternoon, always saying she’s cold… I’m afraid… I’m afraid she’s… failing…” A Chan cried, kowtowing repeatedly. “We must call a physician to see her!”

The Grand Consort Dowager of Qin, Lady Zhang, was dressed in a jubilant bright red, her makeup impeccable, her expression solemn. She rebuked, “Preposterous! On the day of His Highness’s wedding, even though the side consort is an elder, it is still inappropriate to breach taboo! The entire estate, inside and out, is filled with warmth and joy. If Consort He alone demands medical attention, those who don’t know might think our Prince’s birth mother doesn’t wish her son well, that she’s putting on airs for the new daughter-in-law!”

These words carried heavy implications.

A Chan threw herself prostrate on the floor, head buried, not daring to rise. “Your Ladyship, please see clearly! It’s just that the side consort she…” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw He Hancha’s face flushed red, her consciousness murky, already appearing to have little breath left. A Chan couldn’t help but sob brokenly. “Your Ladyship, please, at least consider that the side consort has been respectful, obedient, and honest her whole life…”

The matron beside Lady Zhang stepped forward steadily, swung her arm wide, and delivered two sharp slaps to A Chan’s face. “How dare a lowly mouth like yours comment on the affairs of your masters?!” The matron said coldly. “The serving women around Lady He have no sense of propriety. Drag her out and give her twenty cane strokes. Let this be a lesson.”

The words “cane strokes” struck He Hancha’s mind like a thunderbolt.

“A Chan!” He Hancha let out a sharp cry, opened her arms, grabbing wildly around her. “A Chan!”

Lady Zhang waved her hand. The matron swiftly pinned A Chan’s shoulders down, stuffed a cloth into her mouth, and dragged her out.

The room was left with only Lady Zhang and He Hancha.

The side chamber was very cold. Only two or three candles were lit, casting people in a dim, distorted yellow light. He Hancha felt two streams of heat flow from her nostrils. She opened her eyes, but everything before her was pitch black. She opened her mouth wide but could only emit muffled sounds.

“Chuan’er…” Lady Zhang’s voice held an unmistakable hint of laughter. “I still remember, back before I was even married into this household, I had heard this name.”

Lady Zhang paced and sat down, blowing out one of the candles as she spoke. “Everyone knew that my husband had a well-behaved, pretty maid by his side, with excellent culinary skills, who had accompanied him for four or five years, who became his intimate companion even before I did.”

She couldn’t see, and her sense of smell was fading.

He Hancha suddenly felt no fear. She strained to open her eyes wide, but could only capture the subtle sneer in Lady Zhang’s voice with her ears.

She felt hot streams flowing from her ears and eyes.

Lady Zhang looked at He Hancha, bleeding from five orifices, feeling only satisfaction in her heart. “I thought that for men of princely and noble families, having a comforting woman by their side wasn’t a big deal. It’s like keeping a cat or a dog. When men like them, they’re a plaything. When they don’t, they’re not even that.”

He Hancha’s ears began to buzz, yet Lady Zhang’s voice remained strangely clear.

“But Xu Kai treated you differently than he would a mere plaything.” Lady Zhang let out a long sigh, as if expelling all the foul air from her chest. “He was always guarding against me, afraid I would harm you. I couldn’t bear children—was it really that I couldn’t? Xu Kai would come to my room on the first and fifteenth of every month, sit for a while, then rest in a separate courtyard. How could I possibly have children? Later, I understood. Xu Kai wanted you to bear his child legitimately. He wanted his first son to come from your womb.”

It felt as if a thorn had pierced He Hancha’s brain. Lady Zhang’s words were like a drum mallet, striking heavily against her chest, again and again.

“Later, you gave birth to Xu Kangan. Xu Kai made me swear before the ancestral shrine, swear on the ancestors of the Zhang family, that I would never lay a hand on you or your son.”

Lady Zhang’s voice grew shrill. “If I ever made a move, harbored such intentions, he would not tolerate me, nor my Zhang family!”

The drum mallet kept pounding.

He Hancha’s heart began to contract tightly, as if pinched by sharp fingernails. She had lost her senses, but she could feel the violent pain emanating from her chest.

“How can the child of a concubine become the heir?” Lady Zhang laughed, a clear, tinkling sound. “Only by placing Xu Kangan under my care could he be raised as the legitimate eldest son. I treated him as my own son, and he regards me as his true mother. I never once contemplated harming him. Who would harm their own son?”

Lady Zhang laughed, her expression as satisfied as a snake that had caught its prey. “He respects me, is filial to me, obeys me. When Xu Kai died, he was only two years old. I raised him through hardship and toil, arranged his marriage, managed his affairs with utmost dedication. I kept my promise. From beginning to end, I never laid a hand on you or your child…”

He Hancha’s eyes were slowly closing.

Seeing this, Lady Zhang, nearly frenzied, violently shook He Hancha’s shoulders, afraid she might find release too soon, even more afraid she would miss the most thrilling part of the play.

“I kept my vow. Your life isn’t being taken by me. It was your son who did it!” Lady Zhang laughed heartily. “It was your own birth son who did it! If Xu Kai knew, what would he think? Would he feel the unpredictability of the world??”

Lady Zhang’s eyes shone with a fierce light.

He Hancha, like a folded, floating willow, struggled to open her eyes. Her unfocused gaze searched around. Her heart constricted violently before slowly relaxing. She was like a drowning person. “The pear… syrup…”

She struggled to make a sound, like a leaking wind hole.

Lady Zhang laughed until her tears soaked the front of her garment. “I told your son, what if the new wife only honors her birth mother? If you live, he will always be a concubine’s son. His birth mother will always be a lowly palace maid from the servants’ quarters. His colleagues and friends will look down on him. What then? What if later he isn’t filial to me anymore, but only filial to you? I told your son, you’ve been ill for so many years already… if you were sensible, you should have followed his father long ago…”

Lady Zhang forcibly turned He Hancha’s face, forcing them to look directly at each other. “Your good son actually went and did it!”

When a play concludes, there is a final, heavy strike of the gong.

He Hancha’s very soul and spirit scattered into the floating dust with that final, heavy blow.

She gasped rapidly for breath.

Lady Zhang’s hands trembled.

In the room, the window lattice was wide open.

The candles, blown by the wind, were now down to a single, still-flickering flame.

Lady Zhang leaned down, close to He Hancha’s ear, and whispered secretly, “Do you know? You and Xu Kai died in exactly the same manner. May you go to the underworld and become a pair of blood-weeping mandarin ducks.”

Wind rushed in violently through the window lattice.

“Whoosh—”

The last candle went out.