Langhua: The Codependence of a Prince and His General

Funeral

The next day, the Seventh Prince emerged from his self-inflicted, almost-solitary retreat.

He was pale, and there was a dab of powder under his eyes to hide just how heavy the shadows were. Regardless, he was impeccably if solemnly dressed, his hair neatly tied up and bound away from his sombre white funeral clothes.

His reader-companion and trusted confidant Hua Yuheng walked behind him in silence.

The maids sobbed out loud when the room doors flew open and he walked out. He could not manage a smile, but he did give them a nod. It was less of a reassurance and more of an acknowledgment, and it was plenty enough for them.

No one except Hua Yuheng noticed how he headed straight out of Benevolence Palace with his eyes fixed forward, ignoring everything else around him.

The two young men went directly to the funeral hall. Wherever they went, silence befell the people around them. Servants parted in a hurry, plastering their backs to the walls and keeping their heads down. Closer to the hall, they began to encounter higher-ranked concubines, perhaps on their way to or from the wake. Whenever any of them tried to start a conversation or even approach the prince, Hua Yuheng would shoot a glare at them until they backed down.

Meanwhile, Xuanyuan Lang kept his eyes firmly forward, oblivious to the world around him.

Just like that, the prince and his confidant managed to arrive at the funeral hall without uttering a single word. No one dared to disturb them, and no one could make them stop for even a moment. Xuanyuan Lang's footsteps carried him steadily forward until he stood in front of the casket.

He did not even pause at the door to wait for the eunuch to declare his arrival. The eunuch's voice died away in the silence that his very presence seemed to dictate.

But when he reached the foot of the casket, Xuanyuan Lang's single-minded march came to an abrupt halt. All of a sudden, his feet felt rooted to the tiled floor.

There was a comforting hand on the small of his back. Bigger and rougher than his mother's, but encouraging all the same.

He took one step forward, and another.

He did not want to look into the casket. He knew he would regret it forever if he did not.

He tilted his head down.

At first, Consort Liang looked just like he remembered, only sans all the blood that haunted his nights. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks unnaturally rosy. The coroner had done a fine job on her make-up.

The more he stared, however, the more stilted she looked. Her jaw was stiff, probably from the herbs they stuffed in her mouth to keep it from decaying before interment, and it altered the entire shape of her face. Her hair was flat and lifeless against her head, made up in a manner she would never approve of.

As he looked, it truly hit him that this was no longer her. She was no longer here.

He closed his eyes and turned away.

"I am here now. You may begin the final funeral rites."

His expression as impassive as hers, he took a seat next to the coffin while the monks began to chant. Hua Yuheng stood by his side, as still as a guardian statue.

Somewhere in the midst of the ceremony, the Emperor and Empress arrived without much fanfare. There were whispers in the hall; for both to attend was an honor not afforded to every consort or concubine. Although the Emperor did not stay for long, the Empress quietly sat down behind the mourning prince and remained there until the end of the rituals.

Shortly after, the First Prince Xuanyuan Chen appeared as well and wordlessly paid his respects, joining the Empress in attendance.

None of the other princes showed up.

After the ceremony was over, the casket was to be interred in the imperial mausoleum on the outskirts of the city. The journey took two hours by foot, with the casket loaded into a carriage while the rest of the funeral party walked. Members of the imperial family could ride a second carriage behind the first — but Xuanyuan Lang chose to walk.

For this leg of journey, none of the other members joined him. Xuanyuan Lang walked alone behind the carriage, Hua Yuheng trailing behind him like a shadow.

As the train of priests maintained their chant, punctuating by the occasional clang of a melancholic gong, Xuanyuan Lang fell a step behind. Hua Yuheng caught up and gripped his trembling hand tightly.

If anyone noticed anything, they did not say it.

Xuanyuan Lang followed the casket until the entrance to the mausoleum. As the tomb-keeping eunuchs took the casket into the darkness, he had to stay outside. Members of the imperial family were only allowed to enter, not leave.

Finally, the tomb-keepers re-emerged and closed the stone door behind them. The entrance was not sealed, and indeed it would not be until the Emperor himself passed away. When he did, the door would be shut forever, closing the book on his era. Until then, it would open again and again, taking in concubine and consort alike. Princes, princesses, and even the Empress would join the dead in there should they pass before their Emperor, barring extenuating circumstances.

Xuanyuan Lang let out a rattling breath as the door came to a close, then he stayed as still as the massive mausoleum for what felt like an age.

He showed no intention of leaving, and no one was going to hurry him.

The first drops of rain began to fall. A eunuch tried to approach with an umbrella, but Hua Yuheng stopped him and took the umbrella from his hands. He opened it himself, holding it above Xuanyuan Lang's head.

Xuanyuan Lang finally moved, taking a step closer to Hua Yuheng in a silent invitation. However, the umbrella was simply not big enough for both of them. After all, it was meant for eunuchs to shield their masters with. The servants' comfort was never a factor.

As Hua Yuheng's shoulder grew wetter, Xuanyuan Lang frowned and eventually sighed.

"Very well. Bring up the accompanying carriage. We're heading back."

The clouds had dissipated by the time they returned to the palace. The sunset that day was ironically beautiful, the bustle of the capital piercing to their ears in contrast with the silence in the carriage.

But of course. No one in the capital particularly cared about the death of an unknown consort. Perhaps it made news on the day of her death, but they had far more important things on their mind.

The funeral retinue of priests and servants stiffened when they heard the commotion in the distance, of cheers and yells of jubilance. Some of them stole frightened glances at the carriage.

One young eunuch whispered to his senior, "What are the commoners shouting about?"

"Shh!"

Inside the carriage, Xuanyuan Lang leaned against his seat and closed his eyes. He knew the answer, even if no one told him.

That was the sound of families reuniting, wives hugging their husbands and mothers embracing their sons.

He lifted his eyelids just a sliver. Opposite him, Hua Yuheng was completely unperturbed.

After three days of isolation, the people were celebrating the end of the imperial exam.