Chapter Forty-One

Thanks to Li Longji, the wound on my knee only fully healed by the end of the month, but it left a scar.

Wan’er examined my knee, smoothed down her skirt and said, “Prince of Linzi really didn’t have the heart to go easy.” I gave a helpless smile and said, “He’d never laid hands on a woman before, didn’t know how to be gentle.” Wan’er shook her head and smiled, then suddenly lowered her voice: “That day, when you played Guangling San and stunned everyone, was that all because of your good fortune?” My heart skipped a beat and I replied casually, “Those were things of a long time ago — you still remember them?”

She gave me a long, searching look, asked no more, chatted for a little while, then got up and left.

I watched her retreating figure, feeling momentarily dazed. When I first entered the palace, Grand Empress Dowager took my hand and said, “This is Shangguan Wan’er.” I was astonished — I had heard of the demoness from the teacher and the talented woman from my father, but I had never expected her to look like this. Now, nearly ten years on, back then she and I would discuss stories and sip tea, counting the intrigues and schemes in this palace. Who could have thought that now I would have to avoid mentioning her and be on guard against the tests hidden in her words.

Just as I was lost in thought, Li Longji came in, waving away the chambermaids and eunuchs, dragged a chair over, and sat down beside me. He turned his head to study me for a moment, then said, “I just saw Wan’er leave.” I nodded and replied, “She came half an hour ago.” He smiled, a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, and said, “I wouldn’t have thought she’d have the leisure to come visit you at a time like this.”

I looked at him puzzled; he smiled back, clearly knowing I was waiting for him to speak, yet he remained silent. I shook my head with a smile, picked up the half-bowl of medicine left in front of me, and slowly finished it. When I put the bowl down he finally sighed aloud and said, “Yongan, talking with you really isn’t worth it.” I hummed in reply, “Since you brought it up, you mean to say I needn’t waste my breath asking you?”

He took my medicine bowl, dug a jade bottle from his robe, and poured out a single dried apricot, holding his palm out to me as he said, “Two honored ladies entered the palace today: the Princess of Luling and Princess Anle.” I took the apricot, popped it into my mouth—it was indeed pleasantly sweet and sour, which momentarily masked the bitter aftertaste—and spoke around it slurredly, “It seems the Grand Empress Dowager has already decided on the successor. Congratulations, my lord; your wish is fulfilled. From now on you can live a leisurely life, free from petty court affairs to trouble your mind.”

To ordinary commoners, it was merely the royal household receiving two honored guests into the palace; but for those inside the palace, the quiet arrival of these two ladies would inevitably stir up a major commotion. After the Prince of Luling, his wife and daughter were escorted into Luoyang—such a show of force meant not only Li Longji and his circle, but even the scheming Princess Taiping, who aspired to dominate the realm, would be arranging things behind the scenes.

“You’re wrong. Whether it’s my uncle or my aunt, once they ascend the throne their greatest obstacle will be my father and brothers. As long as we live, they will never be able to eat or sleep in peace.”

I paused slightly, thought for a moment, then said carefully: “The Prince of Luling may be naturally timid, but he has a very ambitious princess consort. Besides, the Wei family are old acquaintances of my uncle Wu Sansi and Wan’er. If those three form an alliance, I fear only Aunt could match them. Sadly, Aunt is still a woman — with the Prince of Luling and the Emperor in place, how could the old ministers of the Li family possibly support another woman to take the throne?”

Only when I reached this point did I realize that my knowledge of the Prince of Luling and Lady Wei still came from Wan’er’s words. If she knew that so many things she taught me were now being used by me to guard against and calculate against her, I wonder what she would think… After listening, Li Longji was quiet for a moment, then lifted the jade bottle and shook it, asking, “More?” I nodded and reached out my hand in front of him. He smiled, poured two pills, took one himself, and ate it in silence, a little absent-minded.

I watched his careful expression; added to those handsome brows and eyes was a tinge of shadow, no longer the youthful spirit of our first meeting. That little imperial grandson who once stood outside Fengyang Gate and rebuked the generals, saying “my Li family’s court,” no longer only wanted the Li family to rule — he wanted his father and brothers to hold this realm.

But compared to the Prince of Luling and Princess Taiping, his brothers’ power was still weak. How could they possibly contend?

We sat facing each other in silence for a while before he came back to himself, reached out and lifted my skirt. “Let me see the wound,” he said. I instinctively opened my hand to his; there was a soft snap, and we both froze for a moment. I hurriedly said, “It’s almost healed. Don’t you trust Shen Qiu’s medical skills?” He gave a muffled “hm” and stood up. “I’m going,” he said.

Half a month later, all the princes left the palace and moved into Longqing Ward.

I got down from the carriage and saw the beaded stone lions flanking the path and the vermilion-lacquered mansion gates. I was just thinking about the days I’d spend here when Wang Huan had already dismounted and, together with Li Longji, gone ahead through the gate. I followed behind them and, upon entering the main hall, saw a woman with her head bowed, sipping tea. Before I could wonder who she was, she looked up, calmly regarded everyone for a moment, and then fixed her gaze on Li Longji.

Those slightly upturned beautiful eyes and that smile were almost identical to the Defei’s back then; the only difference was that this young woman carried more weariness and lacked the noble bearing the Defei once had.

Li Longji strode forward, respectfully bowed, and said, “Aunt.” The woman rose slowly, studied him for a moment, then reached out to steady him and smiled gently, “Longji has grown up.” After Li Longji stood, Wang Huan and I hurried forward to bow. Since he had already called her aunt, her identity was obvious—she must be a blood relative descended from Dou of Fufeng, the Defei’s own younger sister.

First a marriage and establishment of a household, then the meeting with his aunt—Prince Linzi’s mansion felt like it had been blessed with yet more good fortune.

At the banquet, Li Longji drank a few too many cups and was escorted away by Wang when she had someone help him out first. I returned to my room alone; looking at the newly arranged furnishings, I felt no drowsiness, so I sat at the writing desk to practice copying calligraphy and pass the time.

I had only written two pages when Xiazhi hurried in, bowing: “Lady Dou is here.”

I hurriedly set down my brush and went to meet her. She was just entering, smiling at me. I bowed: “Aunt.” She reached out and pulled me up, laughing: “Longji is in Madam Wang’s room tonight, so I had the perfect chance to come see you.” Seeing her familiar brows and features, I felt a pang in my chest, and forced a smile: “Aunt, if you wanted to come you could at any time — there’s no need to go out of your way to avoid the prince.”

She shook her head and smiled, followed me into the room, took the tea Xia Zhi handed her, and said, “Sit.” I sat beside her, unable to guess her purpose in coming, so I simply kept her company and took sip after sip of tea. After a long while she spoke kindly, “The last time I saw Longji he was still eight or nine. Seeing him today I realize how grown he is, and that he even has wives and concubines—my sister can finally rest in peace.”

I was silent and didn’t reply.

That incident back then remains a taboo in the Taichu Palace to this day; no one dares to mention it. Even Li Longji never asked me a single question. Now that she brought it up, I could do nothing but feel guilty—I couldn’t speak a single word.

Fortunately she didn’t press on, only offering some empty words—basically that I’d been in the palace for years, had seen and heard much, and had entered the inner court early, so I should be prepared to bear with things in the future. I knew of course she had heard about Lady Wang’s matter, which is why she spoke that kind of overtly polite yet subtly cautioning line; I could only smile bitterly inside while replying with a smile on my face.

She spoke for a while, then rose casually, picked up the copybook from the desk, seemed to pause, smiling at me with the corners of her mouth, and said, “The handwriting and brushwork are actually very good.” I caught the deeper meaning in her words and hurriedly returned the smile, saying, “By imperial decree from the late Empress Dowager, I once studied calligraphy under Prince Shouchun.” She nodded and said, “No wonder it’s so familiar.”

She set the paper down, fell silent for a moment, then said, “Before meeting you, I already had something I wanted to say, but now… I don’t know whether I should say it or not.” I smiled and replied, “Aunt, you may say it without worry.” She said softly, “I’ve heard the Wang family can no longer have children, and that you are the cause. I had intended to advise you to have Longji take more concubines, to try for your own offspring.” My heart skipped a beat; I didn’t respond. She looked at me intently for a long moment, then continued, “Yongan, are you still a virgin?”

I stared at her in stunned silence; my mind went blank and I didn’t know how to answer.

She looked at me and said in a level voice, “I saw that your brow is soft, your neck slender, and your speech ends in a sharp tone — you are by no means the manner of a woman.” I heard each word, and a chill crept down my spine. The terrifying thing wasn’t that she had figured it out — after all, she was Li Longji’s aunt and would never reveal such a thing lightly — but that she could harbour this suspicion upon first meeting me; what hope, then, was there for the palace’s female officers?

She was very calm, and seemed not to need my answer, then added, “Prominent families and palace attendants mostly know the art of appraisal. Perhaps because the Empress is on the throne, few people pay attention to it now, but since I can see it, others surely can as well.” My thoughts scrambled; I couldn’t think of a good reply, so I forced a smile and said perfunctorily, “Aunt is right. I have had a tendency toward chills since childhood and have been taking medicine these years. The imperial physician also advised that I must stop the medication before…”

She gave a small smile, her eyes calm, and said nothing more.

After she left, a chill washed over me. For so long no one had pointed it out—whether out of suspicion or simple unawareness, I couldn’t tell… Xia Zhi and Dong Yang saw me sitting there dazed and didn’t dare to disturb me. I thought for a long time but didn’t know what to do, and could only be grateful that now that I was out of the palace, apart from the women of the prince’s residence, no outsiders could be seen.

But after all, I come from a martial family. Even though my title as princess was stripped, I’m not like an ordinary concubine and will still attend palace banquets… This matter itself isn’t crucial — the excuse I just gave will do to get out of it — but if it reaches the emperor’s grandmother’s ears, she’ll surely recall old events, so it can’t be left unchecked. Besides, I’ve been married into the Prince of Linzi’s mansion for a year now and still have no children; if more time passes, people will inevitably become suspicious.

I only felt my head throbbing in waves, not knowing who to consult, forced to mock myself in silence—step by step I must be cautious, each step a danger, not knowing when it might lead to a head rolling. I sat like that until dawn, then hurriedly sent Xia Zhi to fetch Li Longji. Though matters between men and women are awkward to speak of, given what was said last night, I had to discuss it with him; otherwise if Auntie brought it up and his account differed even slightly, it would cause trouble.

Li Longji, still hungover, looked a little weary. He leaned against the bed as soon as he entered, watched me with a smile and said, “Luckily I slept in the study last night, or Xia Zhi would have gone looking for me in Wang Huan’s room.” He propped his chin on his hand and drawled, “You always tell me not to favor one person over another—how did I go and cross the line this time?”

My face flushed in waves; I kept wanting to speak but stopped each time. How was I supposed to tell him something like this?

He looked at me amused and said, “Yongan, have you gone mute?” I mustered my courage and met his eyes. “Aunt came looking for me last night,” I said, “asking whether you and I… whether we had consummated.” His smile froze; he opened his mouth but not a single word came out.

After quite a while, his cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat.