Chapter Forty-Four

I returned his look with a knowing smile.

A silver flash streaked across; Yao Yuanchong had already leapt up, scattering a cascade of light and shadow across the hall. After a few swift passes he had thoroughly impressed everyone. When he sheathed his sword, Di Renjie was the first to cheer, and Li Longji stood to raise his cup, looking particularly delighted. My thoughts were already restless as I watched Li Chengqi sitting quietly.

When Yao Yuanchong ceremoniously invited him to take up the sword, he only then set down his cup and rose to the weapons rack, casually drawing a sword. I held my breath and watched, my heart racing, as he stood with the sword in hand, bowed slightly toward Yao Yuanchong, the blade trembling once — coldness shot out across the room like a shaft of light breaking through clouds.

His body moved with the sword, the sword like a pursuing spirit; agile as a startled swan, with the vigor of a dragon in flight.

Unlike the earlier intimidation, that figure, silhouetted by lamp and moonlight, carried a presence as if with empty sleeves he could fight a thousand troops, calming raging seas into flat plains.

When the sword stilled and silence fell, the hem of his robe finally dropped. He held the sword with both hands in a salute, smiling as he said to Yao Yuanchong, “My lord Yao, I thank you for the honor.” Yao Yuanchong stared at him with wide eyes, returned the salute, and couldn’t squeeze out a single word for a long while. Those who had been cheering and praising before were now speechless too, their faces showing admiration, astonishment, and some confusion.

I stared at him intently, a sudden, inexplicable ache welling up inside me. In a time without heroes, even though he had both literary talent and military skill, he could only win a round of applause from the crowd here — nothing more.

He sheathed his sword on the rack, turned and took his seat, then raised his cup to exchange low laughter with Di Renjie at his side. Yao Yuanchong, clearly intimidated by his swordsmanship, was noticeably less formal in expression and spoke more warmly with the several princes.

Li Longji sat beside me and said softly with a smile, “Yongan, thank you for setting things in motion.” I shook my head and smiled, “I only happened to entertain the idea; I didn’t expect it would serve as a stone to attract jade, prompting Lord Yao to feel that sympathetic camaraderie.”

He waved his hand and had Li Qing top up my cup of flower tea. “There are many ways to recruit Yao Yuanchong; today’s approach was by no means the best, nor your usual temperament. Let me guess — the words you spoke in public today had another purpose, didn’t they?”

I took the tea Li Qing handed me and, seeing the merriment in his eyes, said, “Guess, Your Grace.” He thought for a moment and asked, “Is it because of Wang Shouyi?” I looked at him and smiled. “What makes you say that?” He continued, “Someone told me yesterday that you met him in the bamboo garden. I guessed he spoke sharply to you, and today you’re behaving like a woman who basks in favor, showing off in front of others. Am I right?”

He really is perceptive. I bit my lip and smiled, lowering my voice. “Many years ago someone taught me one thing: sometimes letting others see your scheming will make them drop their guard completely. If you’re flawless in every respect, that’s the greatest danger. Your Wang family is your greatest reliance now. To Wang Shouyi, a foolish woman who craves favor and attention is far better than a clever concubine who’s constantly cautious.”

Li Longji listened attentively, then after a moment of silence smiled and said, “What taught you that isn’t without reason. In a household, who isn’t scheming in secret? Only someone like you, brazen and ostentatious, is the one they needn’t guard against.” He glanced at me and slightly raised the corner of his mouth. “Was it Shangguan Wan’er?” I nodded and said nothing more.

That year, because of Di Renjie’s treason case, Li Chengqi’s life and status were implicated. In my panic I knelt before the Grand Dowager to plead, but I hadn’t expected that it would make her mistakenly believe I was scheming against Li Longji, which led to the subsequent bestowed marriage. Six years flew by, and Wan’er’s words remained clearly audible in my ears. That impulsive act back then was done on a whim, but it brought the Grand Dowager peace of mind. Now my ostentation is deliberate, yet I don’t know whether it can earn the Taiyuan Wang family’s scorn.

Seeing that I remained silent, Li Longji tapped the writing desk lightly a few times and said, “Yong’an, to buy you a moment of peace, I suppose I’ll have to take another concubine.”

Li Longji kept his word. Within half a month he took a new concubine, Lady Liu, lavishing her with favor — he even set up a separate courtyard for her. The place was filled with laughter and joy from dawn to dusk; they were very happy. Xia Zhi remained unmoved, but Dongyang wore a sour face every day, her almond eyes flaring up now and then. Ordinary servants who slipped up would be scolded; I found it amusing but couldn’t advise her, so I let her be.

I was counting the days — in three days it would be Li Longji’s birthday. While I was discussing with Xia Zhi what gift to prepare, Dongyang came in with reddened eyes and stood beside me, tears still brimming but she said nothing.

I looked at her in surprise. “What’s wrong?” She bit her lip and shook her head, seeming very aggrieved — I guessed nine times out of ten it was because I had gotten into an argument with someone. I glanced at Xia Zhi; she immediately stepped forward to wipe Dong Yang’s tears. I propped my head on my hand and looked at her, smiling, “Speak. Were you bullied by someone from the Liu household, or did you quarrel with someone from the Princess’s quarters?” Dong Yang curled her lip and mumbled, “From the Princess’s quarters. She said yesterday the Prince and the Princess drank together and danced with swords when they were drunk.” I made a soft sound. Lord Wang Huan and his brothers were all military men, skilled with weapons, which made them a fitting match for Li Longji. “The Princess and the Prince are harmonious — that’s a good thing. Why are you crying?”

Dong Yang sulked for a moment, then said in a low voice, “Madam, you’re asking that knowing the answer.” I tilted my head to look at her, smiled for a moment, and said, “Isn’t it better that they are harmonious than for me to be the sole favorite who every day must kneel and beg forgiveness? Right?” She hesitated, bewildered, and said, “Madam, don’t you mind?” I was silent for a moment before smiling, “Of course I mind.”

A person with many wives and concubines — who could smile about that without a trace of resentment? The trouble was, what I minded was not the Prince of Linzi who danced with weapons and slept with his new concubine.

Xia Zhi fanned gently at my side, staying quiet the whole time. Dong Yang, however, could not understand. She looked at me and said, “The two of us were brought back by the Prince himself when he first went out into the city; we’ve followed him closely for years. Though we are called maids, no one dares look down on us. When I followed you, Madam, I understood that the Prince must hold you in great esteem to have sent the two of us here. But you’ve only been married two years and the Prince no longer comes into the rooms. Aren’t you anxious? I haven’t been sleeping properly at all.”

I looked at her and said, “The prince holds me in the highest regard because he and I grew up together and have been through countless things to be safe until today. What you all are worrying about is the temporary honor or disgrace of the manor, but if the prince is in danger, the whole household will collapse in a single day—how can there be anything else to discuss?” She pressed her lips tightly and dared not speak. I stood up and continued, “You have followed the prince since childhood; what upheavals haven’t you seen? Are you really going to fall apart over a few sarcastic words from the servants of the other residence?”

Dongyang knelt and said, “This servant knows her mistake.” Xia Zhi saw this and quietly knelt as well.

I shook my head and smiled, “You’re really like a tinderbox—light a match and you go up. Get up, come with me out of the compound; let’s buy some things.” Just as she rose, someone cleared his throat at the door. Li Longji was leaning there, arms folded, and said, “Everyone out. Today this prince intends to favor the second madam.”

I was startled by him and, remembering what he’d said moments ago, suddenly felt awkward.

The winter sun and summer solstice had already receded; he came up to me but didn’t stop. He only smiled faintly, watching me take a step back to avoid him. I kept retreating until I was pushed against the corner of the table before he finally halted and said softly, “Yong’an, do you really mind?” He was now much taller than me and looked down with his head slightly bowed, giving off a bit of an oppressive air. I steadied myself and smiled at him, saying, “Of course I mind. I’m annoyed that Lady Liu has been in the household so long and still hasn’t carried your child.”

He lowered his gaze and his voice dropped a few more degrees, almost a whisper: “If you mind this matter, I can tell you plainly: any woman in the household who shares my bed is given medicine the next day.” I stared at him in shock and asked, “Why?” He looked at me for a moment in silence, then sighed and said, “Most ordinary women would be delighted, but you only looked frightened. As for the one I’ve been joking with,” he propped his hand on the edge of the table and continued, “Lady Liu is already pregnant.”

I was dumbfounded and only after a moment did I manage to respond, “Congratulations, Your Grace.” It had been an offhand reply earlier, yet I’d hit the mark. I looked down to think for a while, then added, “In three days it’s your birthday, and the household has another happy event—looks like we’ll need to prepare a proper gift.” He remained planted in front of me, expressionless and silent. I felt uncertain and could only joke again, “This is going to cost—might have to dip into the dowry to cover it.”

He let go of my hand, gave a laugh, his expression loosening into nonchalance, and said offhandedly, “Even the dowry has to be used — how am I supposed to explain this to Prince Heng’an? I’ll have Li Qing fetch you some silk later.” I relaxed and stopped arguing over such trivial matters, stepped away from him, and bowed: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

He stayed still for a moment, then left. When Dongyang came in she looked puzzled; I understood her thoughts at once. The admonishment had been given, but Li Longji had come and gone in such a hurry — in the end he was still feeling unsettled on my behalf. I had Xia Zhi help me change into plain clothes, told her to inform Li Qing and to fetch a carriage, then left the mansion and headed for the West Market.

It was the opening hour of the midday market; the streets were bustling with merchants and shops, lively and crowded.

Li Longji was indeed magnanimous, and I wasn’t overly formal either — after all, it was a case of offering another’s flowers to the Buddha. Once everything was settled, seeing that Dongyang seemed in particularly good spirits, I had the carriage take the goods back to the prince’s residence and walked with them along the bustling market streets, listening to Dongyang endlessly recount old stories from Luoyang city; somehow they felt unusually fresh.

Her mention made me involuntarily recall the days before I was ten in Xihe. In all these years, apart from the occasional letters with my aunt, I’d never had a chance to see her. Back then my aunt’s daughter died young from smallpox; she was driven out of her husband’s house and came to look after me in my father’s old residence. My father, out of remembrance for my late mother, arranged to send her back to Luzhou — a place where she didn’t know anyone and where no one knew about her past or the taboo of smallpox. She later married a minor official as a concubine and bore a son; at least she lived out her later years.

I was musing on that when a commotion ahead suddenly drew my attention — it seemed an important person had arrived at the painting house and was being stopped. Dongyang, who loved nothing more than a spectacle, ran forward to listen to the gossip, then came back and said, “It’s the Grand Prince. He says someone has hired out this painting house to celebrate his birthday.” I froze, a strange feeling overtaking me: three parts sour, seven parts bitter. I’d come today to buy a congratulatory gift for Li Longji, never imagining it was actually his birthday.

After she spoke, Dongyang immediately ran off again to watch the scene. Silent Xiazhi, to my surprise, suddenly murmured, “Now that the madam is here, why not add a finishing touch?” My heart skipped, and I stared at her wordlessly. Xiazhi solemnly performed a bow to me and said, “I am Huofu’s younger sister, and I belong to Shouchun Commandery Prince.” I was even more astonished, but by then I understood what she meant.

Before I could ponder further, she added, “This painted pavilion is the prince’s private property. If you mean to, madam, you could easily pull off a switch and offer a performance as a gift. I’ve played the qin and learned to sing here since childhood—Dongyang knows it too. Just tell her it’s to take the chance to add joy and celebrate the Grand Prince’s birthday. She’s still a child, playful by nature; she won’t put much thought into it and will likely find it quite amusing.” Seeing Dongyang turn her head, she fell silent for a moment. When Dongyang turned back to watch the spectacle, she lowered her voice and added, “The prince will surely be pleased by such a tribute.”