Returning from the bamboo grove, Ming Tan seemed distracted. She occasionally glanced at Jiang Xu, appearing to want to speak but hesitating.
Jiang Xu, assuming she was still shaken by the snake encounter, didn’t think much of it. He simply sipped his porridge while reading the morning court bulletin.
Finally, Ming Tan couldn’t resist and asked indirectly, “My lord, have you ever heard of Lingmiao Temple?”
Lingmiao Temple?
Jiang Xu paused briefly, then continued drinking his porridge without looking up. He casually asked, “Didn’t you pray there after breaking off your engagement with the Ling Guogong family?”
“Ah, yes…”
Ming Tan buried her face in her hands, closing her eyes and wishing she could slap herself. How could she have forgotten about the broken engagement?
“What’s the matter?” Jiang Xu inquired.
“Nothing,” Ming Tan quickly changed the subject, picking up a pastry for him. “My lord, try this. Su Xin baked it this morning with fresh flower petals.”
Jiang Xu accepted it without further questions.
Ming Tan secretly sighed in relief. She had no desire to discuss her past broken engagement with her husband. It wasn’t exactly a prideful moment to reminisce about.
Realizing she couldn’t bring up Lingmiao Temple again, Ming Tan wasn’t sure how to proceed with her inquiry. She consoled herself, thinking that since her husband’s response showed no irregularity, it likely had nothing to do with her musings at the temple. Perhaps she had sleep-talked, or maybe she had mentioned it casually without remembering.
Jiang Xu, still perusing the court bulletin, glanced at Ming Tan as she continued to fret. The corner of his lips turned up slightly.
That day, Emperor Cheng Kang summoned Jiang Xu for an audience. Before leaving, Jiang Xu issued an order to his secret guards: “Take some men to the bamboo grove and kill all the snakes.” His tone was nonchalant.
“Yes, sir. We’ll carry out your order,” the guard responded promptly.
However, as he turned away, the guard’s expression became blank as he thought: Killing snakes? He’d rather be ordered to kill people.
Snakes were abundant in midsummer. Even if they cleared the bamboo grove, with Eternal Spring Garden’s lush vegetation, snakes from other areas could easily slither in. How were they supposed to clear them all?
–
In the tranquil Qingping Hall, the fragrance of agarwood wafted through the air.
Emperor Cheng Kang and Jiang Xu sat at a chess table, engaged in a game.
As an emperor, Cheng Kang was naturally versed in many things. In chess, he could hold his own against Jiang Xu without the latter needing to go easy on him.
While playing, Cheng Kang brought up state affairs: “Yesterday, Lingzhou’s Maritime Trade Commissioner Yu Bozhong submitted a report. It states that Supervisor Zhou Baoping indulged in debauchery with courtesans and died suddenly at home five days ago.”
Jiang Xu’s gaze remained on the chessboard, listening silently.
Cheng Kang continued, “Lingzhou’s maritime trade tax has been decreasing year after year, yet the number of foreign merchants has increased significantly. We sent Zhou Baoping to investigate, but he’s gone in less than half a year. It seems Lingzhou has become impenetrable.”
Jiang Xu remained silent.
After rambling for a while with no response from Jiang Xu, Cheng Kang tapped the table impatiently. “What do you think?”
“What does the Right Chancellor think?” Jiang Xu countered.
“The Right Chancellor believes that Lingzhou is the Su family’s last stronghold, cultivated for generations. It won’t be easy to take. We need to plan carefully,” Cheng Kang repeated patiently, then added sarcastically, “All useless talk.”
“The Right Chancellor isn’t wrong. The Empress Dowager’s faction is deeply rooted, and their greatest asset now is Lingzhou’s maritime trade. A cornered rabbit will bite. If we move too aggressively, we might lose more than we gain.”
“I’m well aware, but should we give up just because it’s a tough nut to crack? Lingzhou’s maritime trade is flourishing daily. How can we allow the Su family to carve out their kingdom there? Quick, give me some ideas.”
Jiang Xu looked at the black pieces trapped in a corner, difficult to break free. He lowered his gaze and suddenly placed a piece not far from them.
“Your Majesty only needs to control maritime trade. If Lingzhou is difficult to conquer, why not open another port and proceed gradually?”
Cheng Kang paused.
The Great Xian Dynasty had lost sixteen prefectures in the north. After three reigns, five prefectures remained unrecovered when Cheng Kang ascended the throne. It was Jiang Xu who, after years of military campaigns, reclaimed four prefectures – Xi, Li, Yu, and Dong – from the northern barbarians.
With the northern threat unresolved and southern barbarians still causing trouble, several reigns had been extremely cautious about opening new ports.
Cheng Kang had considered opening another port, but it wasn’t a simple matter. Just deciding whether to open one and where to locate it could lead to months of debate among court officials.
After long consideration, he suddenly asked, “If we were to open another port, where do you think would be suitable?”
“Quan Prefecture, Tong Port,” Jiang Xu replied.
“Tong Port?”
As soon as Jiang Xu mentioned this small place, Cheng Kang couldn’t immediately recall its location. It took him a while to visualize its geographical position.
Remembering something, he abruptly set aside the chess game and called for a map.
Quan Prefecture was separated from Lingzhou by two other prefectures, but its sea route distances to major trading partners like Moyi, Boni, Jiaozhi, and Zhenla were similar. It had favorable geographical conditions for shifting the long-established maritime trade from Lingzhou.
Moreover, Quan Prefecture bordered Yu Prefecture inland. The western Yu region was a crucial passage to the Western Regions, surrounded by prominent counties like Xizhi and Pangshan. Opening Tong Port in Quan Prefecture could further facilitate transportation to and from Yu Prefecture.
Most importantly, Quan Prefecture was far from both the northern territories and the southern barbarians. Opening a port there would alleviate concerns about potential alliances between sea pirates and barbarian enemies.
However, “Quan Prefecture isn’t prosperous. This Tong Port you mention is just a tiny seaside town in Quan, long impoverished. It’s incomparable to Lingzhou.” To open a port, there needed to be some basic conditions.
“A blank canvas is easier to paint on,” Jiang Xu responded.
That made sense.
Cheng Kang nodded.
“I’ll consider this further,” he said, pointing at the map. “Even if we open a new port, it’ll be difficult to take a share from Lingzhou in the short term. So for Lingzhou… regardless, we must at least insert our people there. Whether they can be bought or not, they must at least pay the full tax to me.”
He sighed, “Zhou Baoping was loyal and astute. He’d been in Lingzhou for nearly half a year before this mishap. He must have obtained some information. I need to send someone to investigate how he died.”
Jiang Xu remained noncommittal.
After some thought, Cheng Kang asked, “Ah Xu, who do you think would be suitable?”
Jiang Xu didn’t answer, just raised his eyes to meet the emperor’s gaze.
“It doesn’t have to be you,” Cheng Kang instinctively rejected the idea. “I think we should send Shu Jingran. It’ll be a good experience for him, and as the Right Chancellor’s son, the Su family won’t act rashly against him.”
“I have no pressing matters. I’ll go with him and take the opportunity to visit Tong Port.”
“Very well, as you wish,” Cheng Kang agreed without much deliberation.
After discussing official business, Cheng Kang chatted casually with Jiang Xu for a bit. However, Jiang Xu, as usual, showed little interest in small talk and soon rose to leave.
As he stood, Cheng Kang noticed a sachet hanging from Jiang Xu’s waist. Finding it peculiar, he asked, “Since when did you start wearing sachets?”
In his youth, Cheng Kang had enjoyed spending time with his cousin Jiang Xu, perhaps because they faced similar circumstances. He always treated Jiang Xu with special consideration.
But Jiang Xu had never been particularly warm towards him. One Dragon Boat Festival, when Cheng Kang gave Jiang Xu an insect-repelling sachet embroidered by a maid, Jiang Xu was ungrateful. With a serious expression on his chubby young face, he had said, “A gentleman doesn’t wear frivolous items from the women’s quarters.”
Jiang Xu had stood by his words, not wearing a sachet for over a decade. His statement had even made Cheng Kang feel guilty, and he hadn’t worn a sachet openly for years either, only tying one to his elbow or hiding it in his sleeve when necessary.
Today was a rare sight – this “frivolous item” seemed to have grown legs and climbed onto the Prince of Beidi’s waist on its own.
Cheng Kang gave him a meaningful look.
Jiang Xu, not bothering to explain, turned and left with his hands behind his back.
Watching Jiang Xu’s retreating figure, Cheng Kang suddenly felt inspired. He called for a palace servant and asked, “Which consort made a sachet recently? Bring it for me to see.”
The servant acknowledged the order and hurried to fetch a sachet sent by a talented lady, all the while thinking to himself: Didn’t His Majesty say just the other day when it arrived, “Why embroider sachets? Stay in the palace and behave. It’d be better to copy some scriptures to calm the mind.” He had even scolded the servant, saying, “This new talented lady doesn’t know the rules, and neither do you! When have I ever worn a sachet? Don’t bring such things to me!”
The emperor’s thoughts were truly unpredictable.
–
Meanwhile, on his way back to Spring Star Pavilion, Jiang Xu encountered Consort Lan.
Seeing him, Consort Lan stopped and curtsied, “Greetings, Prince of Beidi.”
Jiang Xu nodded slightly. As this path led only to Spring Star Pavilion, he asked, “Are you looking for the Princess Consort?”
Consort Lan maintained her distance, keeping her eyes lowered. She responded with a soft “Mm,” then added, “I heard that a few days ago, the Princess Consort had a stomachache from eating too many iced lychees. I’ve been feeling guilty, as that basket of iced lychees was from me. I brought some good tea today to apologize to her.”
“She was greedy. It’s not your fault,” Jiang Xu replied.
Greedy.
It was the first time she had heard him use such an emotional term to describe a woman.
As they neared the pavilion, Consort Lan pursed her lips. Seemingly thinking of something, she suddenly said, “Since we’ve met here, may I trouble Your Highness to pass this tea to the Princess Consort on my behalf?”
Just as she finished speaking, a woman’s scream came from the pavilion ahead—
“Ah—!”
“Princess Consort!”
“Miss!”
Hearing the commotion, Jiang Xu looked towards the pavilion and swiftly leaped into action.
The screams came from the swing outside Spring Star Pavilion.
Ming Tan had been sitting on the swing, letting her maids push her. She had wanted to enjoy the breeze and admire the vast beauty of Eternal Spring Garden from a height. Unexpectedly, after swinging for a while, her sharp eyes caught sight of Jiang Xu and Consort Lan.
Unsure if she had seen correctly, she urged her maids, “Push higher, a bit higher.”
“Miss, we can’t go any higher. It’s dangerous,” Su Xin worried.
“It’s fine, just a little higher,” Ming Tan insisted.
Finally, she saw clearly.
It was Jiang Xu and Consort Lan.
Why were they walking together? It seemed… they were heading towards Spring Star Pavilion together.
Although Jiang Xu had explained their relationship, Consort Lan was still a woman who had almost been betrothed to him. She was as graceful as an orchid in a secluded valley, and Jiang Xu had personally praised her talents.
A thought flashed through Ming Tan’s mind: No, standing next to Consort Lan, she couldn’t lose!
So she quickly said, “Su Xin, shake the pear blossom tree. And the rest of you, push the swing higher.”
She imagined the scene: pear blossoms falling like rain, her swinging high, her clothes fluttering, accompanied by the joyful laughter of a young girl. Yes, perfect – it had the air of a celestial maiden descending to earth.
As Ming Tan prepared her laughter, she let go with one hand when the swing was at its lowest point, intending to fix her wind-tousled hair and collar.
However, as soon as she released her grip, the swing was pushed to its highest point. Her other hand lost control, and half her body tilted outward. Then her entire body flew off the swing at its peak, catching her completely off guard!
In that instant, Ming Tan’s mind went blank. Her heartbeat seemed to stop, and she heard only the sudden rush of wind. Unable to think, she instinctively closed her eyes and screamed, “Ahhhhh—!!!”