On the thirteenth day of the eighth month, a great wind arose in the capital, blowing for three consecutive days. By the sixteenth, dust storms swept through, yellow sand obscuring the sun, making it impossible to discern the time of day. Nearly a hundred dwellings collapsed in the city, claiming several lives. On the night of the seventeenth, part of the roof of the Cloud Cliff Hall in the Azure Sky Temple suddenly collapsed. Though craftsmen worked through the night to repair the tiles, half the roof collapsed again the next day.
Daoist Master Cao sent someone to report to Emperor Zhenning.
The Cloud Cliff Hall had been funded by Emperor Zhenning while he was still a prince, designed and built under Zhang Zhanchun’s supervision twenty years ago. Its collapse seemed to portend his fate, causing him great distress.
Upon hearing the news, he immediately ordered all four gates of the imperial city closed, and officials from various ministries dared not leave their offices.
The daily lectures at Wenhua Hall were suspended, and Yang Wan accompanied Yi Lang as he studied in the library.
The wind was strong that day, and even with the doors locked, the lamp flames flickered restlessly.
Heyu entered from outside, rubbing her hands. Yang Wan quickly raised her sleeve to shield Yi Lang from the wind, “Close the door quickly, I just swept away the sand.”
Heyu closed the door, shivering, “The wind outside is too strong, you can’t see anything. The kitchen will be late with meals today.”
Yang Wan said: “Let them be late. I’ll cook noodles for you all.”
Heyu glanced at Yi Lang and smiled, “We don’t mind, but you can’t keep making His Highness eat simply.”
Yi Lang looked up from his book, “I want to eat Aunt’s noodles.”
Heyu’s face fell, “Your Highness hasn’t grown tired of your aunt’s noodles?”
Yi Lang put down his book, “I’m a prince whose salary has been suspended. What luxury can I afford? Besides, Father Emperor is unwell – I shouldn’t think about food cravings.”
Heyu’s ears reddened at this “lesson,” and she quickly responded, “Yes.”
Yang Wan stood up, “Did you ask Chief Secretary Chen about the Azure Sky Temple matter as I asked?”
Heyu replied: “Yes, the Chief Secretary heard your instructions and went to look yesterday. He said half had collapsed, even the statue of the Old Lord is exposed now. The temple people covered it with a straw shelter, not daring to attempt repairs. Many commoners are there watching, saying all sorts of things.”
Yi Lang asked, “Why don’t they dare repair it?”
Heyu shook her head, “This servant doesn’t understand.”
Yang Wan said: “It’s a single-pillar structure, built under Master Zhang’s supervision. It’s very difficult to repair – hasty work would only make it collapse further.”
Yi Lang fell silent for a while, then suddenly looked up, “Then is the Depot Supervisor…”
Yang Wan nodded with a smile, “Yes, but Your Highness shouldn’t mention it.”
Heyu hadn’t caught on and asked Yang Wan, “What are you and His Highness talking about, miss?”
Yang Wan stood up, “Come, let’s light the fire. I’ll cook some noodles to tide you over.”
Two more days passed, and the dust storms continued to come and go.
That day, a yellow haze obscured the sky, making it almost impossible to see while walking. Yang Lun asked a palace maid at the Huiji Gate for a silk scarf, covering his face as he walked toward the Cabinet duty room.
Palace servants hurried along with their heads down, inevitably colliding as they tried to shield their faces. Just as Yang Lun reached the duty room door, he crashed into an elderly Cabinet minister. Yang Lun recovered quickly, bouncing back up and dusting himself off at the doorway, but the elderly minister wasn’t so nimble, struggling twice before managing to sit up. When Yang Lun recognized him, he quickly bent to help, “This official didn’t see you, Minister.”
The minister waved his hand, using Yang Lun’s support to stand, “No matter, who can see anyone in this weather?”
Supporting each other, they entered the duty room where two eunuchs were wiping sand from the desks. Qi Huaiyang sat in a chair, removing his shoes to shake out the sand. Seeing them enter, he quickly put his half-emptied shoe back on and stood, saying, “It must have been difficult for both ministers to get here.”
Yang Lun sat down and took a sip of tea, “This is the first time I’ve seen such heavy sand storms in early autumn.”
Qi Huaiyang said: “Should we inquire with the Imperial Observatory?”
The elderly minister said: “Do we need to ask? Though His Majesty is ill, he already summoned the Imperial Observatory to Yangxin Hall at dawn. You arrived through Huiji Gate early, so you hadn’t heard.”
Just then, Ceremonial Office Secretary Li Jiang spoke from outside, holding a silk scarf, “Minister Bai, is Assistant Minister Yang inside?”
Yang Lun turned his head, “I’m here. Come in and speak, Lord Li.”
Li Jiang said: “I’d better not enter. The dust is heavy, and opening the door would cover the ministers in it.”
Yang Lun rose and walked to the door, “Does His Majesty have instructions?”
“Yes, His Majesty summons Assistant Minister Yang and Minister Bai to Yangxin Hall.”
Yang Lun said: “The Minister is off duty today.”
Li Jiang replied: “No matter, the Ceremonial Office has already sent someone to notify him. Would the Assistant Minister please come with this servant first?”
Yang Lun nodded and turned back to Qi Huaiyang, “If I can see the Observatory Director, I’ll ask on your behalf. The Cabinet needn’t make a formal inquiry.”
Qi Huaiyang said: “That makes sense. With the recent collapse of Cloud Cliff Hall, His Majesty must be unsettled. It wouldn’t be good for me to make explicit inquiries. Please keep this in mind, sir.”
Yang Lun acknowledged this and followed Li Jiang to the glazed doors before Yangxin Hall, where he saw Yang Wan standing sheltered from the wind. The Chengqian Palace servants all wore silk scarves over their faces, standing hazily behind Yang Wan. As private conversation wasn’t allowed before the hall, Yang Lun simply asked formally: “Is His Highness inside?”
Yang Wan turned at his voice, bowed, and replied: “Yes, His Highness is attending to His Majesty’s illness in the inner hall.”
After speaking, she moved aside by the door, secretly making a “heart” gesture with her fingers at her waist.
Yang Lun couldn’t help but smile, stepping through the glazed doors.
The scent of medicine permeated Yangxin Hall, mixed with the smell of cinnabar. Yang Lun stood behind the screen waiting to be announced, faintly hearing Emperor Zhenning’s cough – hoarse and muffled, like rough stones scraping against the ground.
Soon after, Daoist Master Cao from the Azure Sky Temple and several green-robed Daoists walked out.
Yang Lun had always disdained such people and simply turned aside, avoiding the formal greeting.
Then Observatory Director Ge Yucheng walked out, hugging his hands. Yang Lun called out to him: “Did His Majesty inquire about these days of sand storms?”
Ge Yucheng watched Cao’s retreating and couldn’t help sighing, “I only submitted an observatory report. Last year at this time, when the Observatory heard great thunder, I also submitted a report. I can’t say more – after all, our words carry limited weight. We can only observe the heavens, not communicate with them.”
He jerked his chin forward, “His Majesty will ultimately trust heaven’s words. However, from what I overheard inside, Master Cao’s memorial wasn’t unfavorable.”