The Rebirth of an Ill-Fated Consort (Chapters 1- 203)

Chapter 60: Crown Pressures The Capital

That was the span of countless decades of her quiet endurance and grief; of the premature departure of her mother and her elder brother that had left her on her own in the world. It was the portrait of how her father had impatiently exchanged her for the imperial edict and had her sent into unfathomable depths of the palace. It was for the man who had become the reigning monarch, her loved one whom she had thought was warm and considerate to her; and yet, was the one to proclaim herself as a calamitous beautiful woman who would ruin a nation. It was for her di mei[2] who had caused her to become a human swine and had made her watch with despair as her young son had been intimately trifled with until he died.

[2] Dí mèi (嫡妹) - This refers to the younger legitimate sister, or here, Jiang Su Su who has the privilege of being part of the legal family and therefore, the perks of noble peerage and access too.

Her dance was sorrowful as if in the very next second she would ride the winds and return, and without knowing why, it had caused others to call to mind a mournful scene in their hearts. Gradually, for some people who had been watching, their eyes had welled up in grief and sorrow.

Once the slow-moving dance had passed, the whistling sound in her mouth had begun to hasten expediently as if a powerful army had tread forth and brought forward a fierce, blood-thirsty and imposing manner. Abruptly, her movements sped up, so swiftly so that some of the audience could not see her movements clearly and could only feel that that robe of red clothes seemed like blood; under the moonlight, it seemed astonishingly beautiful. Yet, the sounds of music were impassioned and every tone seemed like a sob. Naturally, that was the sorrow of hers that had reached the pinnacle of pain she had to endure. It had transformed into an unforgettable hatred that had been carved into her bones and engraved into her heart; it was a demand of a spirit filled with vengeance that had crawled out of the depths of hell for the people who owed her a life's debt. It was simply a demand for their lives, a hidden ruthlessness and viciousness that could not allow them to get away with it. It was an indifference that demanded one to stand upon the peak to overlook every living being.

In the shining moonlight, as it was reflected upon her little face that seemed sparkling and translucent like snow, her eyes were astonishingly bright. However, contrary to expectations, not the slightest bit of a smile was reflected in her gaze. What remained was only a deep-rooted indifference and mockery as if she was an Asura[3], but at the same time, she seemed like a goddess; a beautiful woman that was wilfully heedless of all living things.

[3] Asura - A malevolent spirit in Indian mythology.

That vengeful music composition was still resounding and that vengeful dance still continued on. This dance had already made everyone feel fear and trepidation since they had never seen a person dance this beautifully; so beautifully that it made people frightened. As if she was the person in the music piece, a hatred that had been filled and hidden in her chest for her want to avenge; even if she would not hesitate at all to pay any price for it. Even if she needed to enter the abyss of hell once more, then she too would drag someone to be buried with her. Yet, it seemed she was indifferent to squandering her life. This was an enchanting woman that had been born solely for revenge.

Intimately and softly, low and tender, just like a pair of children, our gratitude and grudges are like intimate whispers between us. Suddenly, there comes a majestic and reverberating sound that brings to mind how the brave warriors charge forth into an enemy battlefield. Like floating clouds soaring in the broad and distant world, the willow catkin float as if without root or stem. While a hundred birds gayly chirp away, suddenly above them all, a lone phoenix could be heard. Yet even as the steep precipice of the cliff pressures one downwards that makes it difficult to climb up even an inch, to abruptly lose momentum would be a fall of a thousand zhang (like loose rocks falling into an abyss). Oh but a pity, like everyone else, I have a pair of ears that are inept in appreciating and understanding music. Hearing by mine ears Monk Ying's playing (at times, supple yet at times, firm), thou rouses a highly capable person to experience through the rises and falls of it. In a flurry, mine fingers reach out to shelter from and grasp hold of the qin, alas, these moist tears of mine have long since surged up and welled in mine eyes. Oh Monk Ying, thine's skill is truly exceptional, wouldst thou not torment my bosom with the ice and fire? [4]

[4] This entire poem 'Hearing Monk Ying Play the Qin' was written by the Tang dynasty poet, Han Yu. At that time, Monk Ying was a Buddhist monk that had been extremely adept at playing the qin and had previously requested some poets to listen and create some poems in praise of it; there are numerous poems of various poets with each their own feelings and differing thoughts about his playing. Through the poem, one can tell that Han Yu had experienced happiness, fear, grief and joy while listening to it. The music had made many abrupt changes, with all sorts of feelings welling up in one's heart that remain inexpressible. Thus, this poem aids one in understanding the turbulent emotional highs and lows that everyone present had experienced while sitting through Jiang Ruan's dancing and musical performance.

As the piece lingered at its end, the red clothes that had been fluttering in the wind abruptly became pinched. Yet, as she raised her head with that fine black hair of hers that fell to her waist like a waterfall, it seemed as glamourous and mesmerizing as satin. Her charming complexion seemed as bewitching as a siren and with a raise of those charming eyes of hers that almost seemed to have not swept a glance over Jiang Su Su, she raised her hand towards her own neck and made a beheading gesture. Jiang Su Su's body had stiffened and Jiang Ruan smiled sweetly.

As a beauty smiled, it was as if in just one night, the spring flowers in Great Jin Chao had piled up, layer by layer, and blossomed. It was so beautiful that it made people feel that to take even one more glance would have been sacrilegious.

Xiao Shao's elegant and handsome face remained as cool and frigid as before, while those long lashes of his had covered up the slightest traces of contemplation in his eyes.

T/N : I'm suspecting the chapter title refers and alludes to JR winning over JSS as the champion, like having a crown of sorts for the winner, and being renowned over the capital with the news.