Chapter Thirty-Six

I kept my head bowed; the corners of my eyes burned with a painful heat.

He sighed and murmured in my ear, “Qing Qing Zi Pei, my thoughts linger on you. Even if I do not go, will you still not come? Swift and easy, over the city gates. One day without seeing you feels like three months.” The same words seven years ago had stirred a vague unease in my heart; now they carried another layer of meaning.

I leaned against him, listening to each word he spoke, and couldn’t help but recall the scenes at the Xiang residence. When I first entered the palace, unaware of the depths involved, I secretly pledged myself to him; now, with imperial power so close and danger unpredictable… he and I—one a Marquise of the Wu family, the other the legitimate imperial grandson—appear supremely noble to outsiders, yet even our lives are not truly our own, so what else can we speak of.

The two of us fell silent for a moment. I suddenly remembered Yongtai’s situation and lowered my voice: “Does Zhang Jiuling have a wife or children at home?” Li Chengqi replied, “No.” I hummed, then continued, “Yongtai has reached a marriageable age; the Imperial Aunt will likely arrange a match. You know she favors Zhang Jiuling. I’m afraid she doesn’t understand proper bounds and might say something she shouldn’t, bringing great disaster.”

He pondered for a moment and said, “Whether Zhang Jiuling intends it or not, Yongtai is destined to marry into the Wu family. Let me think this over first.” Seeing his expression calm, and knowing the matter did not require immediate action, I nodded and said no more.

Li Longji stepped out from behind the screen and saw us abruptly stop. He lowered his head, took two steps back, and murmured, “Imperial Aunt is here.”

I hastily rose, feeling his hand grasp mine for a moment before he immediately let go, signaling me to step aside.

Voices greeting from outside the tent reached us. When Li Longji and I walked beyond the screen, someone lifted the tent flap and Taiping’s radiant smiling face burst into view. I bowed to greet her; Li Longji bowed and returned her smile, saying, “Aunt.”

Taiping glanced at the two of us, her gaze lingering on me for a beat before she smiled meaningfully and said, “Longji’s favoritism is truly something. Where is Lady Wang?” Li Longji returned a smile but said nothing. I hurriedly added with a forced smile, “I insisted on coming. The Prince of Yongping is effectively Yong’an’s teacher; with such a severe injury, it’s right to come and pay respects.” Taiping nodded and said, “If you hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten.” She finished speaking, stepped around the screen, and muffled conversation of concern came from inside.

Li Longji and I exchanged a look. He said softly, “Insincere little county miss, are you going to thank me this time?” I glared at him. He touched the corner of his mouth, let out a low laugh, and glanced toward the tent entrance.

He lifted the canopy and Yuan Yue came in carrying tea; I smiled awkwardly and hurried out of the tent.

Since the Khitans captured Yizhou, Di Renjie had been tapped by the emperor again—rising several ranks within a year. The people sang his praises and erected steles across the land to commemorate his favors.

By the time we met again, he held the post of Luantai Shilang and had been restored to the chancellorship.

“Lord Di,” I came out from the Yan Tower and saw Di Renjie approaching. I bowed and said, “Congratulations on your reinstatement as chancellor.” Di Renjie nodded and smiled, “So many years have flown by—I see the young county lady has grown up.” Looking at the man in the season of his life, I felt a pang of emotion and said, “I grow older year by year, yet you still have your vigor, Lord Di. These past years everyone at court and beyond has been praising your achievements; whether high in office or deep among the people, it has been a blessing for the common folk.”

Di Renjie smiled and shook his head, saying, “I came to visit an old friend, and meeting the Commandery Princess is a stroke of fate. The maple grove in the palace is just at its most splendid—would the princess care to walk with me?” Seeing the meaning in his eyes, I nodded and followed him along the Wild Goose Pagoda toward the Imperial Garden.

By now the maple leaves were turning red; the imperial garden had been replanted with large groves of maples, a blaze of red and yellow—truly beautiful.

Di Renjie admired the view and said, “Earlier at the audience, His Majesty mentioned the princess’s forthcoming marriage—he seemed to be in very good spirits.” I smiled bitterly to myself and answered lightly, “The court has been preparing for this wedding for half a month already; it will surely be a lively affair, and Great-Grandmother will naturally be delighted.” After a moment’s thought I added, “Besides, with the Khitan having retreated a month ago, the palace hosting a big celebration is also fitting.”

Half a month earlier, Wang Huan’s auspicious pulse had been confirmed, and Great-Grandmother was overjoyed. She also scolded me for delaying my marriage and letting a concubine take the lead, so she set the wedding date in public. Riding on that happiness, Great-Grandmother also recalled that Yuan had produced no heir, and gifted the two sisters of the Cui clan of Qinghe to Prince Yongping, joking that since the younger brother had already taken the lead, the elder brother should also be expected to provide heirs soon.

These imperial edicts, in the eyes of the uncles, were the emperor showing favor to the Li family. The successive marriage decrees confirmed what the emperor had said during the hunt at the start of the year about letting the crown prince’s offspring leave the palace and set up a household; the old Li family retainer Di Renjie being recalled to court as chancellor again also served to suppress the Wu family’s power.

Di Renjie smiled but said nothing further.

“When I arrived in the capital, I heard a popular song called ‘The Lament of Green Pearl.’ Does the county princess know that poem?” I thought for a moment and said, “I’ve heard the palace women whisper about it.” In fact, it wasn’t only palace women whispering—even the emperor’s grandaunt had been furious over the matter.

Earlier that year, my uncle Wu Chengsi had seized a court official’s dancing girl. Little did he know that the man was infatuated with her—so devoted that he refused to take a wife or concubine. But intimidated by my uncle’s power, he dared not demand her back. He could only write the poem “The Lament of Green Pearl” privately to the woman. The woman, seeing the poem and feeling the depth of his sorrow, had no way to repay him and threw herself into a well. If the matter had ended there, it would have been at most my uncle brazenly taking another man’s beloved; the tragic fidelity of the woman would have moved people to sigh. But it was my uncle who became the target of ridicule in Luoyang, and with his temper he could not let it lie—he contrived a charge, had the court official killed, and exterminated his entire nine-descended clan.

If this were any other year, this matter would never have reached the Empress Grandmother’s ears — someone would have covered it up. But these days, the Zhang brothers by her side are people of peace; with a few casual words they roused the Empress Grandmother to fury, and she publicly berated Wu Chengsi. None of the Wu princes dared defend him.

I didn’t understand why Di Renjie had brought it up, and simply waited quietly for him to continue.

He sighed and said in a low voice, “This affair is tragic, but it has only brought death to countless people. No matter how beautiful the verses, they’re nothing but a death warrant.” Hearing that, I suddenly understood, fell silent for a moment, then stared at the crimson maple leaves in the tree and said, “A song like ‘The Lament of Green Pearl’ may be passed down for ages, but the people who die because of it are reduced at most to a line in the history books — ‘the clan was exterminated.’ If love can go that far, it’s better to forget it entirely.”

Di Renjie smiled at me and said, “The county princess stands beside the emperor year after year; you truly see more clearly than most people.”

I solemnly performed a salute and said, “Imperial authority is within reach; I would never act rashly. Lord Di has already labored so hard over state affairs, there’s no need to be troubled by such trifling matters.” Seeing his comforting smile, my bitterness deepened, and I added, “Lord Di missed a happy event a year ago. On Yong’an’s wedding day this time, you must drink a few good cups — consider it repaying the wine from that ministerial banquet back then.”

After saying this, I walked with him for a while longer, then took my leave and returned to the palace.

When I entered the chamber, Li Longji was already seated at the desk, casually leafing through the sutra I had copied. He looked up and smiled when he saw me return, then lowered his head and continued flipping through it as if very interested. I went to the side of the desk, took the sutra from his hand, and said, “Lady Wang is with child; you still come to me. If she bears resentment in her heart, wouldn’t that affect the fetus?”

Li Longji crossed his legs and replied casually, “She carries my eldest son. There is more joy than anger — where would the resentment come from?” Seeing me remain silent, he added, “Carrying the heir and being from a distinguished family: if she’s doted on too much, what place will future wives who enter the household have?”

His two questions left me speechless; I could only force a bitter smile and say, “Court intrigue in the main hall, women in the inner court—you seem to understand both well.” Seeing the resentment in my tone, he propped his chin on his hand and watched me for a moment, then said, “Judging by your tone, you’re not pleased. Is it because you resent me for favoring her first, letting the secondary concubine have offspring before you?”

I didn’t answer. I walked to the dressing table, took something wrapped in red brocade from the miniature jewelry box, set it in front of him and said, “This is for Wang Huan.” He opened the package, saw the red brocade and the little golden Buddha inside, and paused, saying, “This is the golden Buddha Master Yijing gave you. What are you giving it to her for?” I rewrapped it and pushed it into his hand. “A mere farewell would seem insincere; this is just right.”

He stared at the object for a long moment, then said softly, “Lady Wang has been in the household for a year now; if she still doesn’t bear a child, the Wang clan of Taiyuan will surely murmur.” I nodded. “I know. Besides, Wang Huan is more than just a notable family’s daughter—her father holds military power and will certainly be someone you rely on in the future,” I added after a moment’s thought, “and if the Wang family produces a firstborn son, even if you take another wife, the Wang clan of Taiyuan would never complain.”

Just then, Yixi came in to inquire whether Li Longji would dine here. I was about to refuse, but he had already nodded in agreement.

I looked at him helplessly. He pretended not to notice, leisurely sipped his tea and said, “I haven’t seen you for half a month.” After speaking, he set down the teacup and handed the golden Buddha back to me. “I heard you have a new younger sister,” he added. “Consider this the king presenting flowers through the Buddha — a gift for her.”