Chapter Twenty-Five

The teahouse itself was in utter chaos; everyone had risen and pressed toward the windows, watching in the direction of the Ming Hall and whispering among themselves.

Li Longji had me sheltered in front of him against the window. He murmured softly, “This time it’s really happened.” I instinctively leaned forward to avoid him, nearly sticking half my body out, but he yanked me back, “You don’t watch a spectacle like that. Be careful you don’t fall — if you don’t die you’ll be trampled near to death.” Having said that, he pulled me behind him.

At that moment Zhang Jiuling was holding a cup of tea and smiling at Li Chengqi. “Seems I was unfortunately right,” he said. “Tonight will be the real hullabaloo, much more to see than last night’s blood monk.” Li Chengqi merely shook his head and smiled, not replying.

Hearing those few words, I finally understood what they were talking about. Last night Xue Huaiyi put on a grand display to congratulate the Emperor for the festival, only to be laughed off—could he really have vied for favor to that extent? Would he really set fire to the Ming Tang to draw attention? I glanced at Li Chengqi; he smiled faintly, staring toward the Ming Tang in thought, not noticing me.

I hope this matter doesn’t involve those brothers. The string of incidents two years ago still makes my heart race when I think of them; it felt like anything that happened in Taichu Palace or Luoyang City could be connected to them, and the slightest slip could mean life or death.

I was lost in thought when he suddenly looked at me; the worry in his features softened, leaving only the gentleness in his eyes. Amid the noise and clamor, he was like a bright moon, standing lightly among the crowd, looking at me so calmly—just as when Di Renjie first met someone at the chancellorship banquet.

I was about to walk over, but Li Longji turned and took my hand: “Don’t wander off.”

On the first day of the second lunar month, as usual I accompanied my father to the palace to pay respects.

The imperial grandaunt leaned against the couch, seeming very tired. Wan’er sat beside her with her head bowed, speaking about the reconstruction of the Ming Hall. After listening for a while, she lifted her head and said to me, “Several princesses have married out of the palace these past two years; the Changsheng Hall isn’t very lively. If your father’s health improves, he should return to the palace and keep me company.”

I hurriedly replied that I would.

The Imperial Aunt glanced coolly at my uncle Wu Sansi and said, “Has Chengsi hardly been coming to the palace this past year? Is his health still poor?” Wu Sansi quickly answered, “The Duke of Zhou fell from his horse last September and has been bedridden ever since.” The Imperial Aunt didn’t seem very concerned; she let out a faint “hmm” and did not press the matter.

I listened quietly and couldn’t help but feel sorry for that uncle who had fallen from the height of power into disgrace.

Back then he had been only a step away from the crown prince’s position, but because he pushed too hard he ultimately drew the Imperial Aunt’s displeasure and suspicion. After being dismissed from his post he still relied on being her close nephew to scheme against the Eastern Palace, and his machinations culminated in a treason case that thoroughly enraged her. Now he languished in his mansion, avoiding audiences whenever possible.

When I used to stay by Imperial Aunt’s side, he was summoned to the palace to accompany the carriage every day; even when he occasionally had a fever, Imperial Aunt would send the imperial physician to examine him personally. But now that he’s fallen from his horse and been injured, having been tended for over half a year with no improvement, Imperial Aunt merely replied indifferently and nothing more was said.

Now the jade blossoms in the Great Ming Palace were as they had always been, but the person who once presented flowers no longer had any claim to the throne.

After a while, Wu Sansi suddenly said, “Nephew, regarding the matter you petitioned a few days ago, does His Majesty have any decision yet?” The imperial grandaunt smiled and looked at him. “Your Sanyang Palace has stood empty since it was built. Are you in such a hurry now?”

Wu Sansi gave an apologetic smile. “I truly am impatient. I feared His Majesty would be bored in Taichu Palace and urged the work to be finished. It’s been half a year since completion, yet the emperor still hasn’t gone. I think about it every day and can’t eat or sleep, worried His Majesty won’t be satisfied.”

The grandaunt laughed a few times at his teasing and said, “Don’t be anxious. I’ve already instructed Cheng Qi to handle it. If you have anything, just discuss it with him. After the banquet at Qujiang in the second month, His Majesty will go live in Sanyang Palace for a month — that should put your mind at ease.” Wu Sansi quickly chimed in, “If the command is handled by the Prince of Yongping, I will be at ease.” His praise was plain in his words, as if he greatly admired the Prince of Yongping.

Grandmother Huangu smiled at him and said, “Chengqi lacks experience and still needs your guidance.” Wu Sansi shook his head and laughed, “Your Majesty, that’s wrong. Although Prince Yongping is still young, he acts with great steadiness—he’s one of the best among the imperial grandsons.”

My heart skipped a beat as I cast a glance at my smiling uncle.

But Grandmother Huangu only smiled without speaking, and her mood seemed to brighten even more because of his words.

We followed the emperor out of the Hall of Longevity, and the others headed toward the palace gates. Several of the county princesses at my side chatted and laughed; only I kept quiet. I had not grown up in the Wu household and had later entered the palace, so I wasn’t very close to them. My uncles asked me a question or two, which caused them to glance my way repeatedly.

As I was still thinking about the earlier conversation in the hall, Uncle Wu Sansi suddenly laughed out loud and called toward someone in the distance: “Prince of Yongping.”

The name snapped me back to attention. I saw him walking toward the sunlight; the man nodded to Wu Sansi and said, “Prince of Liang.” I quickly bowed with the other county princesses.

Li Chengqi exchanged a few more greetings with several uncles, then fell into step beside Wu Sansi. “The Empress Dowager intends to stay at the Sanyang Palace on Mount Song for three months,” he said. “She has sent me and the Prince of Liang to confer on the details.” Wu Sansi nodded. “I was just about to set a date to consult the prince. Why not decide the accompanying officials today? What does the prince think?” Li Chengqi smiled faintly. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Wu Sansi suddenly looked at my father, saying, “Prince Heng’an, why don’t you come along?” My father seemed hesitant but ultimately nodded and said, “Very well.”

My father did not let me leave ahead, so I could only walk along with them. I stared at the carved paving stones beneath my feet and listened to their lively conversation, unable to fathom when he and Wu Sansi had grown so close—appearing to have a friendship that bridged generations. After walking for a while, we reached Dengchun Pavilion, where a dozen or so eunuchs and palace maids were already waiting; upon seeing us, they hurriedly bowed.

They were discussing the visit to Sanyang Palace. I found an excuse not to go in with them and sat alone by the water beside the pavilion. Because it was an audience in the hall, I hadn’t brought my personal attendants; the palace staff stood carefully a short distance away, neither daring to approach nor to leave, and so they remained quietly on guard.

In early February, thin ice still drifted on the water, letting off a faint chill.

I kicked a loose pebble with my toe; the thin ice cracked and a hole opened, and with a plop the stone sank. As it descended, the chill in my chest grew stronger.

Among my uncles, Wu Chengsi and Wu Sansi were the most eager to please our imperial grandaunt. After Wu Chengsi fell from favor, Wu Sansi spent these past years constantly building palaces around the realm and increasingly won her affection. This Sanyang Palace was personally built by that uncle for our imperial grandaunt and won considerable imperial praise. Right now he was riding a favorable wind — he should never have been on such good terms with the prince’s branch of the family.

“Sit for a bit and then go inside — the lakeside is too cold.” The voice startled me; I was so surprised I didn’t dare look back.

Li Chengqi stepped two paces closer and stood beside me, staring at the lake without saying anything more.

After a while I collected my thoughts, stood up and walked to his side, and said, “Weren’t we supposed to discuss the trip to Sanyang Palace? Why did you suddenly come out?” He turned his head to look at me and said softly, “If it’s about Sanyang Palace, there’s no need to rush it right now. I wanted to see you, so I deliberately used that as an excuse.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I didn’t know how to respond.

I thought for a moment but couldn’t suppress the question in my mind, so I looked at him seriously and said, “There are some things I don’t understand.” He nodded and said, “Ask.” I lowered my voice and said, “You’re so close with my uncle—aren’t you afraid of bringing trouble upon yourself?” He shook his head and said, “Some misfortunes, if they can’t be avoided, there’s no point in avoiding them further.”

I pondered for a while and said, “The Duke of Zhou has now fallen from favor, and my uncle has become the most powerful figure in the Wu family. If he has the intention—” I looked at him and didn’t continue.

He smiled at me and said, “If he had the heart, he still couldn’t do much to me. The Duke of Zhou is from the main branch of the Wu family, with people like Lai Junchen helping him inside and the court’s power supporting him outside, yet he still aroused the Empress Dowager’s suspicion. Prince Liang knows the limits here very well, which is why he constantly courts the Li family to ease the Empress Dowager’s worries.”

As he spoke, my uncle’s laughter drifted from the pavilion from time to time, as if he and the king were having a very merry conversation.

A few words from him cleared the fog in my mind all at once. Uncle Wu Sansi had watched him fall from the height of power to ruin—how could he possibly repeat the same mistake? Yet, compared with Wu Chengsi’s swaggering display, my uncle’s constant appeasement made me even more uneasy.

Uneasy, I stepped around to stand in front of him and stared into his eyes. He looked at me with a half-smile and said, “Why are you looking at me like that?” Seeing the gentleness in his gaze, my apprehension began to melt away and I only smiled, “Nothing, I just suddenly understood.” He smiled and sighed, “I would rather you hadn’t understood.”

He finished speaking, reached out and stroked my face, and said, “You are the Wujia commandery princess; some things are better kept at a distance.” My heart sank. After hesitating, I asked, “If one day I ask this for the Wujia, would you agree?”

Because of my uncle’s framing, first I lost my mother, then I nearly lost my life. He and the Wujia have long been bitter enemies behind the scenes. Even if he could let go of everything that happened before, what about what comes after? As long as Imperial Aunt Grandmother lives, everything will only get worse and never improve. I no longer dared imagine the outcome of this struggle: if the Wujia gains the realm, the Li imperial clan will certainly be wiped out; if the Li family gains the realm, how could the Wu princes have any chance of survival?

He didn’t answer, only looked at me gently.

I looked back at him, and with the silence, the relaxation from that moment evaporated. Thinking about an outcome in which one line must perish filled me with sorrow. When he was on the brink of life and death, I hadn’t even spoken—a mere witness to everything unfolding. But if, in the future, my father falls into a deadly trap, must I also stand by and do nothing?

After a long while, I finally softened and didn’t want to continue that awkward topic anymore.

He suddenly sighed, then said softly, “I will.”