Chapter 12

Noble Consort Yan regarded Xu Yunqi with leisurely composure, her long tortoiseshell nail guards tapping lightly against the high table with a soft, crisp sound.

Xu Yunqi stood still, not moving a muscle.

The Princess Consort would never allow Noble Consort Yan to make things difficult for her daughter-in-law. She rose coldly and gave a sardonic laugh: “If Your Highness is concerned about Heng’er’s health, you may ask me—”

Hearing this, Xu Yunqi immediately understood. She stepped forward through the crowd, knelt in the center of the hall, and replied: “To answer Your Highness, I dare not presume to judge the severity of my husband’s wounds. I only saw that his flesh was split open and covered in blood.”

Noble Consort Yan was not genuinely concerned about Pei Muheng’s injuries—she was annoyed that he had spoken for the Crown Prince and spoiled Prince Qin’s plans. “I ask you,” she said, “when His Majesty beat your husband until he was covered in blood, did you bear any resentment?”

The Princess Consort thought Noble Consort Yan was deliberately causing trouble and gave a soft snort.

Xu Yunqi, however, smiled—calm and composed—and replied:

“Thunder and rain, favor and punishment—all are the sovereign’s grace. My husband is His Majesty’s grandson. When a grandson errs and his grandfather punishes him, that is the most natural thing in the world. As the saying goes, ‘Deep love demands stern discipline.’ His Majesty had my husband flogged because he trusts him and wishes to correct him—that is why he took such pains. How could this grandson and his wife possibly bear resentment?”

At these words, both the Crown Princess and Noble Consort Yan felt a jolt.

The Crown Prince had committed such a grave offense—had the Emperor scolded him in anger? No. The Emperor had only sent him back to the Eastern Palace to reflect, without even meeting him face to face. Was His Majesty abandoning the Crown Prince?

The Crown Princess’s palm grew clammy with sweat.

At the same time, Noble Consort Yan was thinking: Prince Qin had ridden the tide of public outrage to pressure the Emperor into punishing the Crown Prince. With His Majesty’s wisdom, how could he fail to see through that? And yet—had the Emperor so much as rebuked Prince Qin? No. Not only that, but on New Year’s Eve, the gifts bestowed upon Prince Qin’s household had outranked all others.

Understanding this, Noble Consort Yan suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.

Her sharp nail guards slowly gripped the edge of the high table, and she sat up straighter. All traces of anger toward Xu Yunqi vanished, her tone turning gentler: “Rise.”

Xu Yunqi rose and gave thanks.

Noble Consort Yan asked again: “What were you staring at just now?”

Xu Yunqi smiled shyly. “This humble woman was looking at the plate of candied hawthorn and thinking of the roadside stalls in my hometown. It was merely homesickness.”

She was, after all, a country girl who had never seen such imperial grandeur—no wonder she had been startled. Noble Consort Yan waved her hand, and Xu Yunqi returned to her seat.

As for that plate of candied hawthorn, she did not touch a single piece.

—

On returning to the mansion, Xu Yunqi expected the Princess Consort to scold her. But as the Princess Consort crossed the threshold, she turned to look at her three daughters-in-law, her gaze finally settling on Xu Yunqi:

“The third son’s wife did well today. This is exactly the manner to maintain—neither servile nor overbearing. Heng’er stands at the forefront at court; you must not diminish his prestige. No matter who makes things difficult for you, do not be afraid. There are no cowards in Prince Xi’s household.”

What the Princess Consort had feared most was that Xu Yunqi, coming from the countryside, would be timid and inadequate. Today, Xu Yunqi had not disappointed her.

Once back at Jinhua Hall, she sent Old Madam Hao to Qinghui Garden with a jadeite bracelet of even better quality, to replace Princess Qin’s. The Princess Consort had only wanted to annoy Princess Qin—she had no real desire for her bracelet. She would find an excuse to return it later.

Word of what had happened at Kunning Palace naturally reached Pei Muheng. When Xu Yunqi came to see him, he quietly studied his wife for a moment, gaining a new appreciation for her. “You were put in an awkward position.”

Xu Yunqi’s poise under pressure was the mark of an exemplary wife.

—

The next day, the second of the new year, was the day for married daughters to return to their families. Pei Muheng, still recovering from his injury, could not accompany her. Xu Yunqi went alone to the Xu household. Madam Zhang inevitably held her and wept, fearing that Pei Muheng had fallen out of favor and that her daughter would suffer for it.

Xu Yunqi did her best to reassure her.

After lying in bed for three days in the rear courtyard, Pei Muheng moved back to his study.

The plea letter from Tongzhou remained unsolved. The case itself was largely clear, but the person who had written that letter had never been found. Pei Muheng had an uneasy feeling that something was slipping beyond his control.

After Pei Muheng left Qinghui Garden, Xu Yunqi could not easily visit him, but every few days she prepared medicinal soups and foods to help heal his wounds and nourish his qi and blood.

As Pei Muheng recovered and could walk about the mansion, he occasionally visited Qinghui Garden to see his wife.

It was the Lantern Festival. Xu Yunqi was hanging lanterns beneath the veranda with her maids when a tall figure appeared through the moon gate.

Pei Muheng wore a dark cloak, standing straight and tall by the pillar. Lantern after lantern bloomed in the dim twilight, their brilliant glow pushing back the evening mist, illuminating his handsome, peerless face.

He took a book from Huang Wei and handed it to her.

“Those ancient prescriptions I promised you last time.” His tone was gentle, the corner of his mouth even carrying a faint smile. Yet it did nothing to soften the aura of unapproachability that clung to him.

Xu Yunqi hesitated before taking it. Perhaps because she was used to caring for patients, she felt more at ease with Pei Muheng when he was injured.

“Thank you. The wind is strong outside—please come in for some tea.”

Husband and wife entered the room together.

To be safe, Xu Yunqi had someone place a soft cushion for him.

Remembering how she had cared for him, Pei Muheng tried to make conversation. He asked a question, and she answered—but she lacked the warmth and concern she had shown during those days around New Year’s.

Pei Muheng was puzzled.

During that time, she had been so attentive—not only tending to his wounds, but making him pastries, brewing his medicine, giving him endless reminders. Now that he was well, she had grown distant again.

Unable to fathom it, he asked directly:

“My lady, are you displeased about something?”

Xu Yunqi looked surprised. “Not at all.” Her hands, which had been resting comfortably, dropped to her sides. “Why would you say that?”

Pei Muheng could hardly ask why she had become distant. Unaccustomed to guessing women’s minds, and to avoid such situations in the future, he said to her:

“If ever I do something that upsets you, would you tell me plainly?”

Xu Yunqi was baffled. “Rest assured, Third Master, I am not displeased. If I were, I would tell you.”

When she was small, when her parents left, she had cried and made a fuss. Later, she realized that crying was useless, so she stopped. When her mother came to visit, she welcomed her joyfully; when she left, she saw her off politely. Slowly, as a child, she learned that happiness had to come from within. She spent her days in the mountains, digging wild vegetables, digging up peanuts, even secretly roasting sweet potatoes in the fields. She was happy every day.

Once she understood that she should place her expectations on no one, she never felt unhappy again.

Looking at his unruffled wife, Pei Muheng felt reassured. He had always disliked women who were coy, manipulative, or prone to tantrums. With a wife of steady temperament, there would be fewer troubles ahead.

—

Pei Muheng was fully recovered a month later. He wrote a memorial of apology and sent it to the palace. The Emperor took the opportunity to first scold him for being rash and in need of experience, then placed him in charge of the Censorate, giving him a major case involving the salt roads in Jiangnan.

Before, Pei Muheng had served in the Document Office, offering counsel and advice. Now that he was assigned to the Six Ministries, he was given real authority.

The edict arrived at Prince Xi’s mansion via the Grand Secretariat. Prince Xi brought it joyfully to Pei Muheng’s study.

“The edict states that you are to leave immediately for Yangzhou and investigate this case thoroughly.”

Pei Muheng took the edict, examined it by lamplight, and swiftly grasped the Emperor’s intent.

“When the Tongzhou granary caught fire, it burned the court’s tail. The shortage of military grain ultimately comes down to an empty treasury. His Majesty is sending me to Yangzhou to investigate the salt roads—in truth, to root out the state’s parasites and replenish the treasury.”

Corruption in the salt roads had been a long-standing problem, involving many court officials and powerful regional families.

Pei Muheng looked at the vermilion imperial seal on the edict and gave a wry smile. “His Majesty is forcing me to be a lone minister.”

To root out the nation’s parasites was to make enemies of the powerful. If Pei Muheng only wanted to be a capable minister, he could simply be the sword in the Emperor’s hand. But he was not that—he harbored greater ambitions.

Prince Xi muttered an oath under his breath: “Old fox—using the same method on you that he used on me.”

The Emperor employed Prince Xi, putting him in command of the army to fight for the nation, yet also guarded against him becoming too powerful. He made him a vice commander to inspect the military garrisons and enforce discipline—and Prince Xi had made a host of enemies among the military elite in the process.

Pei Muheng’s expression did not change. He held the edict and paced slowly through the study, his cool, elegant eyes hidden beneath thick lashes, unfathomably deep.

“No matter. I already have a plan—one that will help Grandfather fill the treasury without cutting myself off from the court.”

And with that, Pei Muheng left for the south.

—

During the two months he was away, the Emperor turned his attention to the Great Wu. The Great Jin treasury was not full enough for a prolonged war. To force a swift conclusion, the Emperor dispatched the Duke of Wen—renowned as the greatest strategist in the army, often called the Zhang Liang of the age—to the northern border. He spread false rumors that the Great Jin army was short of grain, luring the Great Wu into a trap. Secretly, he repositioned his troops, laying a net so vast that when the Great Wu mustered their heavy forces for a massive assault, they were caught like turtles in a jar and dealt a crushing blow.

It was now the fourth month of spring, and the Emperor’s birthday was approaching. The Great Wu’s Khan, Toto Kar, sent his son to the Great Jin to offer birthday felicitations and discuss peace negotiations.

This was not the first time the Great Jin and the Mongols had held peace talks. Following precedent, the court set the location at the Xuanfu Traveling Palace.

Xuanfu Traveling Palace was two hundred li from the capital. The aging Emperor, recalling his youth—the exhilaration of campaigns north and south, the splendor of all nations paying homage—was seized by a burst of grand ambition. He decided to move his birthday celebration to the Xuanfu Traveling Palace.

When word spread that the elderly Emperor would travel, the court moved swiftly.

Who would remain behind, who would accompany the imperial procession—there were strict rules for everything.

The Crown Prince’s faction seized the opportunity immediately, petitioning the Emperor to release the Crown Prince so he could atone for his errors and allow the Emperor peace of mind to inspect Xuanfu.

In the past, whenever the Crown Prince made a move, Prince Qin would counter him and challenge him point for point.

But this time, Prince Qin did not.

After three months of patient endurance, Prince Qin secretly summoned his trusted advisors:

“His Majesty is going on this tour only to find an excuse to pardon the Crown Prince. This way, the Crown Prince can once again oversee state affairs in name.”

The Chief Justice of the Dali Temple, seeing that Prince Qin was not as angry as expected, asked: “Does Your Highness intend to yield to the Crown Prince this time?”

Prince Qin stroked his beard, his eyes fixed on the map of Xuanfu’s topography, and let out a sinister smile. “To take, one must first give. For three months, I have not slept a single peaceful night. Yet my uncle keeps urging me to bide my time, not to act rashly.”

The Chief Justice warned him: “The Grand Secretary must have his reasons. Your Highness should think carefully before acting.”

Prince Qin had heard such words so many times that his ears had grown callused. He walked out from behind his desk to stand by the window, hands clasped behind his back, and said bitterly: “His Majesty’s health is failing day by day. I cannot wait any longer. Even if it means risking His Majesty’s displeasure, I must gamble this time—I will not allow the Crown Prince to ascend that throne smoothly.”

Seeing he could not dissuade him, the Chief Justice asked: “What does Your Highness plan to do?”

Prince Qin turned his head, a ruthless gleam settling on his stern face. “This tour is the perfect opportunity. I will ensure the Crown Prince falls beyond redemption.”

—

At the same time, in the Imperial Study.

Grand Secretary Xun Yunhe sat behind the desk, drafting the edict for the Emperor. The gaunt old Emperor rested his hand on the windowsill, dictating word by word:

“During my tour, the Crown Prince shall oversee state affairs. As for the Grand Secretariat…”

The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back and paced slowly back, stopping before Xun Yunhe. “Yan Ping and Xiao Yu will accompany me. You and Elder Zheng will remain. Elder Zheng is soft-eared and ineffective. Yunhe, I entrust the court to you.”

Xun Yunhe rose and bowed. “Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”

He sat down again and drafted the edict according to the Emperor’s words.

The Emperor pondered for a moment, turned his gaze toward the darkening sky, and continued: “In the harem, Noble Consort Yan shall accompany me. The Empress will remain in the palace. As for the military—Right Commander Yang Kang will go with me. Left Commander Cui Zhen will stay with you to guard the capital.”

Xun Yunhe’s expression did not change, but in his heart he understood: Yang Kang was the Crown Prince’s father-in-law. Taking him along was to prevent the Crown Prince from causing trouble. And keeping Prince Qin, Yan Ping, and Noble Consort Yan with the imperial entourage was to keep Prince Qin’s faction under watchful eyes.

The Emperor was old, but he saw through his subjects’ schemes with perfect clarity.

Presently, Xun Yunhe finished drafting the edict and presented it to the Emperor for review.

The Emperor read it, said nothing, and turned his gaze to the window with a heavy sigh—one tinged with worry.

Xun Yunhe set the edict down slowly, glanced at the Emperor’s furrowed brow, and suddenly spoke:

“Your Majesty, something occurs to me.”

“What is it?” The Emperor lifted his eyelids and cast a casual glance his way.

Xun Yunhe bowed with a smile. “Though this northern tour is for the peace negotiations with the Great Wu, Your Majesty must not forget your own birthday. Even if it is not a full jubilee, it should still be properly celebrated.”

The Emperor paced to stand before him, looking at him with interest. “What do you mean?”

Xun Yunhe said calmly: “Allow the families of ministers of the fourth rank and above to accompany the tour, to celebrate Your Majesty’s birthday.”

The Emperor’s ashen pupils contracted slightly as he looked at him intently.

Here was a trusted minister he had promoted himself.

Always able to relieve his worries at just the right moment.

With the families of fourth-rank and above officials in attendance, the courtiers would not dare act rashly. Neither the Crown Prince nor Prince Qin could cause much trouble.

With that, the Emperor’s lingering concerns melted away. Beaming, he patted Xun Yunhe on the shoulder. “Let it be as Minister Xun says.”

When the Crown Prince received the news, he felt relieved.

He had not planned anything anyway. To be released at all was a stroke of luck; he would not repeat his mistakes.

Prince Qin, however, was furious. “Xun Yunhe—that old fox! He’s ruined my plan!”

The Chief Justice smiled bitterly. “Your Highness, the phrase ‘favored by the sovereign’ is no empty saying. Otherwise, why would His Majesty choose him to draft the edict, time and again?”

Prince Qin let out a cold laugh, his broad hand gripping the desk tightly. “No matter. I still have a backup plan.”

—

On the first day of the fourth month, the orders to accompany the imperial tour arrived at the various mansions. Xu Yunqi also received a letter from Pei Muheng—he was returning to the capital.

As she packed her things, she asked Old Madam Chen: “When will Third Master be back? We leave tomorrow—can he make it?”

Old Madam Chen replied: “He’ll go straight to Xuanfu and meet you there.”

Prince Xi was not permitted to accompany the tour. The Princess Consort left Lady Xie behind to manage the household and took the rest of her children and grandchildren to Xuanfu. In the fourth month, the weather was warm and clear, flowers in full bloom—a perfect time for a spring outing. The Princess Consort also brought her two grandsons along, which made the journey quite lively. The two young boys frequently roughhoused inside the carriage, giving the Princess Consort a headache. She ended up foisting one on Lady Li and the other on the concubine-born daughter, so she could finally take a proper nap.

Pei Mushan had gone to find her close friends to play. Xu Yunqi sat alone in her carriage, reading medical texts. They set out at the hour of Si in the morning and arrived near the Chai River to the northwest by the hour of You in the afternoon, where the soldiers made camp by the water.

The Princess Consort arranged for Pei Mushan and Xu Yunqi to share a tent. Their maids and matrons carried their trunks and daily necessities inside. Xu Yunqi had few belongings and was settled quickly. She stepped out to help Pei Mushan, who was carrying her beloved dressing case toward the tent, when they heard Huang Wei’s delighted cry from behind:

“Young Mistress! The Third Master is back—he’s in His Majesty’s tent, having an audience!”

Xu Yunqi froze. The young woman stood in the evening breeze, a little lost, not yet having gathered her wits. Pei Mushan, however, let out a dramatic groan: “Why is he back so soon? We were supposed to meet at Xuanfu! Now that Third Brother’s here, where am I supposed to sleep?”

Pei Muheng and Xu Yunqi were a legitimate married couple—they would have to share a tent. After a long separation, Pei Mushan was not about to ruin her brother’s reunion. Frustrated, she decided to take her dressing case toward the Princess Consort’s tent—but after two steps, she turned back, gave Xu Yunqi a knowing nudge on the shoulder, and declared:

“I’ll stand right here and wait for him to come back. If he’s brought me a gift, then I’ll graciously hand you over to him.”

Xu Yunqi looked at her silently, not sure what to say.