Court Lady Cao and Court Lady Cui were enjoying their retirement in Yangzhou, occasionally corresponding with Hu Shanwei. Hu Shanwei had secretly informed them of the truth behind Court Lady Fan’s death. The two finally understood the origin of the repeated mentions of Court Lady Fan’s grandfather Fan Jin’s masterpiece “Grave Digging Song” in her final letter.
Although Hu Shanwei hadn’t told the two senior female officials how she had taken revenge, they had seen Emperor Jianwen pay for Court Lady Fan’s blood debt at the cost of bringing ruin to the entire nation. Understanding without speaking, everyone tacitly kept silent.
Everyone had their own lives. On another side that Hu Shanwei didn’t know about, when Emperor Yongle ascended the throne, Court Lady Cao’s cousin in Yangzhou was implicated in the “Fang Xiaoru” rebel faction and was imprisoned and stripped of office.
Fang Xiaoru was a great scholar of Jiangnan, a literary celebrity highly respected by scholars. People had once fought to attend poetry gatherings and literary meetings organized by Fang Xiaoru. The Cao family, being a scholarly household, naturally also went to capitalize on the celebrity’s influence, and their poetry even received Fang Xiaoru’s personal written comments.
Riding on someone’s popularity felt great momentarily, but when accounts were settled, it was like a crematorium.
When Fang Xiaoru’s entire clan was exterminated, before dying, he still loudly cursed Emperor Yongle: “This old man is not afraid of you, this treacherous usurper! Don’t just say you’ll exterminate my three clans—what if you exterminate my ten clans!”
Not feeling satisfied with his cursing, he added another line: “After thousands of years, Your Majesty still won’t escape the word ‘usurper’!”
This infuriated Emperor Yongle. I said three clans, you told me to make it ten.
Such a request was simply too magical. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wish.
When the Ministry of Justice was drawing up the clan extermination list, they were troubled. At most, they had previously exterminated nine clans—where would this tenth clan come from? So they included disciples and old friends.
Thus, cursing felt good momentarily, but relatives and friends all followed him to the crematorium. The Cao family overnight faced disaster from heaven. The entire family was imprisoned, with only Miss Cao cleverly escaping to Yangzhou to seek help from her great-aunt Court Lady Cao.
Originally, Court Lady Cao had chosen to retire in Yangzhou rather than return home for retirement because she was lazy about dealing with clan relationships, or being subjected to thoughtless clan members who took it upon themselves to introduce some official as her second husband.
Having served as a female official in the palace for many years with smooth sailing, becoming a Palace Supervisor before forty, her character and way of dealing with the world were no longer tolerated by traditional scholarly families. Returning home would be lonely and desolate, so retiring in Yangzhou was relaxed and comfortable. Later, with Court Lady Cui for company—both being female officials with similar aspirations—her secluded residence complete with cats and dogs, she was even more content not to think of home.
When her grand-niece Miss Cao escaped official capture and sought out Court Lady Cao, it made her eyes light up: Oh, this little girl’s courage and insight seemed familiar, somewhat like Hu Shanwei’s shadow from back when she could risk everything. With proper guidance and training, she could be sent into the palace—the Cao family would have successors after all.
Court Lady Cao personally went to the capital and found her old colleague Ji Gang, saying that the Cao family weren’t Fang Xiaoru’s proper students, having only met a few times at poetry gatherings. The Cao family’s political enemies were using this opportunity to persecute them to vacate official positions for others.
Such charges were optional. For Ji Gang, the Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, this wasn’t difficult. Ji Gang was willing to do Court Lady Cao a favor. At that time, Empress Xu, who had just recovered from a serious illness, had come to the capital for the empress coronation ceremony and urgently needed to implement benevolent policies—a combination of punishment and leniency to stabilize people’s hearts, preventing court officials from panicking over Fang Xiaoru’s ten-clan extermination and attacking each other, forming factions, and recreating the tragedy of the “Lan Yu Case” from the Hongwu reign when over five thousand officials died together.
Emperor Yongle also didn’t want to kill so many people. The ten-clan punishment’s scope was really too broad. He couldn’t truly become a lonely ruler, but the emperor’s words were golden—how could he go back on them? Emperor Yongle needed a way out.
Court Lady Cao secretly met with Empress Xu and arranged the drama of Miss Cao petitioning at the Meridian Gate to clear her father’s name, with the empress showing tolerance and forgetting past grievances. Miss Cao inherited her great-aunt’s strong character and had brains, perfectly cooperating with Empress Xu’s performance.
This incident was published in the court gazette as a glorious deed promoting Empress Xu’s benevolence. The so-called disciples and old friends from Fang Xiaoru’s ten-clan extermination were let off—anyone who acknowledged Emperor Yongle’s legitimate status was released.
After seeing off Court Lady Cao, it was already evening. Hu Shanwei and A’Lei were eating dinner under the grape arbor in the courtyard when the cool breeze blew. A’Lei suddenly stopped her chopsticks and said: “Sister, our house is right behind the Dacang Silver Vault. If we dug a tunnel from here, couldn’t we move silver without anyone knowing?”
Hearing this, Hu Shanwei also stopped her chopsticks: Truly her biological daughter, perfectly inheriting all of Mu Chun’s wild imaginative ideas.
After a moment of speechlessness, Hu Shanwei said: “Eat your meal properly and rest early tonight. Don’t let your mind wander. Tomorrow you still have to accompany me into the palace to thank Empress Mother for her rewards. We can’t make any mistakes.”
On the first night in the new residence, she slept dreamlessly through the night.
The next morning, Hu Shanwei heard A’Lei’s prairie dog-like scream from the west wing room: “Ah!”
Hearing this, Hu Shanwei thought A’Lei had a nightmare and hurriedly got up, put on clothes, and went to check: “What’s wrong?”
A’Lei sat by the dressing table, holding up a tooth still streaked with red blood: “Tooth… my front tooth fell out.”
Hu Shanwei breathed a sigh of relief and took the tooth: “I thought something had happened, making such a loud noise. You’re a nine-year-old big girl now, still making such a fuss. You’re at the age for losing teeth—when they fall out, they fall out. New ones will grow quickly.”
Having said this, Hu Shanwei took the tooth, left the room, threw it toward the roof, and prayed for A’Lei’s smooth tooth replacement.
A’Lei rinsed her mouth with clear water: “Today I’m entering the palace to have an audience with Empress Mother. When I open my mouth to speak (talk), I’m missing a big front tooth and my speech will whistle (with air leaking). Won’t people laugh at me?”
Hearing A’Lei’s strange pronunciation with the whistling tooth gap, Hu Shanwei found it cute and couldn’t help laughing: “Your situation is special. Which family’s child doesn’t lose teeth? This doesn’t count as improper conduct before the throne. Rest assured, no one will criticize you for this.”
A’Lei sat heavily on the embroidered stool by the dressing table: “They won’t say it openly, but who knows how they’ll laugh behind my back. Besides Empress Mother, I might also see—”
A’Lei seemed to remember something and abruptly changed the subject: “Sister just said I’m a big girl, but now you say which family’s child doesn’t lose teeth. Am I an adult or a child? How unlucky—my first time entering the palace and things aren’t going smoothly.”
Children sleep a lot. Hu Shanwei often got up and took a long walk, returning home when A’Lei was just getting up, sometimes still refusing to get out of bed.
This morning, A’Lei had gotten up before Hu Shanwei even woke—clearly full of anticipation about entering the palace. The nine-year-old girl now understood beauty and was no longer the disheveled little bald egg with muddy legs from before, only interested in catching shrimp.
Hu Shanwei sighed at how quickly time passed. In a blink, that unkempt little bald egg had become a girl whose whole day’s good mood could be ruined by losing one tooth.
Hu Shanwei doted on Mu Chun and doted even more on her daughter, saying: “In that case, you stay home and rest today. I’ll go to the palace alone and say you’re unwell. How about entering the palace to give thanks another day?”
A’Lei became anxious and stood up with a whoosh: “No! I must go with sister.”
Hu Shanwei said: “Then why are you still moping? Hurry up and wash and dress yourself. Be spirited and relaxed. The more you care about it, the more others will look at your missing tooth. When you don’t care anymore, others won’t have the nerve to stare at your temporary flaw.”
From age seven, A’Lei had stopped shaving her head, letting her forehead hair grow and allowing her bangs to grow long. The long hair on top was combed into two hair buns, decorated with gauze flowers that Empress Xu had rewarded yesterday. With thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a fluffy pink peach face, she looked festive and adorable—even opening her mouth to show the gap in her front teeth was adorable.
Hu Shanwei felt “my family has a daughter just coming of age”—no matter how much she looked, she couldn’t get enough, feeling her own daughter was the most beautiful little girl.
Hu Shanwei’s appreciative gaze gave A’Lei encouragement. From her gradually straightening back, she seemed to have regained confidence.
Re-entering the palace, Shen Qionglian, who had been Palace Supervisor for four years, welcomed Hu Shanwei like seeing a savior: “Finally, I’ve waited for you to return. Being Palace Supervisor is too tiring—I’m somewhat overwhelmed. It’s still more comfortable being Court Lady. Come early the day after tomorrow, and I’ll hand over all the work to you one by one. After that, I need to temporarily leave the palace. His Majesty has permitted me to leave the palace to join my father and brothers in relocating our ancestor Shen Xiu’s grave.”
What was going on?
Just entering the capital, massive amounts of information flooded Hu Shanwei’s brain like a tide. First was the drama performed by Court Lady Cao and her grand-niece Court Lady Cao with Empress Xu, then Shen Qionglian leaving the palace—to relocate Shen Xiu’s grave?
Shen Xiu—wasn’t he the richest man at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, Shen Wanshan, who was exiled to Yunnan-Guizhou by Emperor Hongwu and died on the road? Had Emperor Yongle pardoned Shen Xiu’s crimes?
Back then, when Zhu Yuanzhang, Chen Youliang, and Zhang Shicheng formed a three-way standoff in Jiangnan, Shen Xiu had supported King Wu Zhang Shicheng, serving as Zhang Shicheng’s money bag. Later, he was liquidated by Zhu Yuanzhang who unified the realm, exiled to Yunnan-Guizhou, and died in a foreign land.
Moreover, hadn’t the Shen family been raided repeatedly by Emperor Hongwu, from the Hu Weiyong rebellion at the beginning of Hongwu to the Lan Yu Case at the end of Hongwu? Time after time they were raided and their clans exterminated. Fortunately, the Shen family was prolific and often divided into separate households, so they weren’t all tied to one vine and completely wiped out. Hu Shanwei clearly remembered that after the Lan Yu Case, Shen Qionglian had left the palace to join her father and brothers in collecting corpses for implicated Shen family members.
What did Emperor Yongle mean? Allowing the Shen family to travel far to Yunnan-Guizhou to move their ancestor’s coffin back to the Central Plains for reburial—did this mean he wouldn’t move against the Shen family in the future?
Hu Shanwei thought: With the Shen family all going to relocate Shen Xiu’s grave, who would manage sending messages across the ocean to the scattered overseas Empress Xiaoma and others?
Hu Shanwei instantly had hundreds of thoughts. Using the excuse of changing clothes, she pulled Shen Qionglian aside to discuss Zheng He’s voyage to the Western Ocean: “…During these four years you served as Palace Supervisor in the palace, have there been any rumors in the palace about Empress Xiaoma and the two princes faking their deaths and fleeing overseas? Is Eunuch Sanbao’s voyage to the Western Ocean merely to publicize the new emperor’s ascension and have all nations come pay homage to the new ruler? Not to search for traces of Empress Xiaoma?”
Shen Qionglian shook her head: “I wondered what was wrong with you—it turns out it’s about this. You’re overthinking. Eunuch Sanbao’s voyage to the Western Ocean serves two purposes: first, for the new ruler’s prestige, proclaiming to the world; second, His Majesty intends to loosen the sea ban. Everyone knows overseas trade makes money—our Shen family rose to prominence through this, and it also enriches court tax revenue.”
“His Majesty wants to use overseas trade tax revenue to subsidize military expenses for conquering Annan, but the sea ban is ancestral law. Emperor Gaozhu once said not a single plank should go to sea. When His Majesty launched the Jingnan Campaign, he also used the banner of treacherous ministers repeatedly violating ancestral laws. Now he can’t openly say he’s abolishing the sea ban—wouldn’t that be slapping his own face?”
“So Eunuch Sanbao’s voyage to the Western Ocean is His Majesty’s hint to the people. Officially, the sea ban remains, but as long as court taxes are paid, he’ll turn a blind eye. At most, it’s a relaxation of the sea ban, not violating ancestral law. This voyage by Eunuch Sanbao also opens sea routes and pacifies pirates along the way, facilitating Great Ming merchant ships’ passage. This emperor is different from the previous one—his thoughts run deep.”
“Also, current rumors in and out of the palace aren’t about Empress Xiaoma and her three family members, but about Emperor Jianwen—saying that on the day of the fire, it was eunuchs who burned to death. Emperor Jianwen shaved his head, put on monk’s robes, and escaped from the palace. Simply ridiculous! The palace has layer upon layer of high walls—even a cat couldn’t jump out, let alone a big monk. Besides, wearing monk’s robes would be so conspicuous—he’d be better off disguised as a eunuch. These are just rootless rumors floating like duckweed. You needn’t be nervous. If there were real developments, I would have secretly had Shen family members go to Yunnan to warn you long ago. How could there be no action at all? If Empress Xiaoma’s secret couldn’t be kept, our Shen family would be finished along with everyone else.”
This speech gave Hu Shanwei another huge shock. Having been away from the political center for four years, her thinking couldn’t keep up with current circumstances. These four years, she had only understood court politics through gazettes, thinking she understood, but entering the palace, she realized she was only seeing a leopard through a bamboo tube—seeing just one spot. One leaf blocking the view, unable to see Mount Tai.
So Eunuch Sanbao’s voyage to the Western Ocean was to relax the sea ban. This fit the court’s consistent approach—basically never speaking plainly, just giving a look, making a hint, and letting you figure it out yourself.
Shen Qionglian said: “Relocating our ancestor Shen Xiu’s grave so his soul returns to his homeland is our Shen family’s long-cherished wish. I献上 all the maritime charts, ship blueprints, and other materials left by our ancestor from ages past to His Majesty for use in Eunuch Sanbao’s voyage to the Western Ocean. His Majesty, mindful of the Shen family’s merit in献图, specially permitted my father, brothers, and me to relocate our ancestor. Once you return, I’ll leave the palace. After settling our ancestor properly, I’ll return to serve as Court Lady. Remember to keep my position—I’ll be back in a year or two.”
Shen Qionglian had long decided to serve the palace for life, never marrying. This talented girl, besides her own abilities, also possessed political acumen, assessing situations expertly. Almost single-handedly, she had cleared ancestor Shen Xiu’s name. Although Emperor Yongle hadn’t said so explicitly, allowing the palace’s female official surnamed Shen to leave the palace to relocate Shen Xiu’s grave also hinted at the court’s changed attitude toward the Shen family.
This was the same as Zheng He’s voyage to the Western Ocean—give a look, and you figure it out yourself.
Besides admiration, Hu Shanwei had nothing to say. The palace was full of talent. The newcomer Court Lady Cao, the veteran Shen Qionglian—each could accomplish great things, none inferior to her, Hu Shanwei.
Shen Qionglian had given her a reassurance pill. A stone fell from Hu Shanwei’s heart. As long as it wasn’t to track Empress Xiaoma and the others, that was fine. As for the widespread rumors inside and outside the palace about Emperor Jianwen shaving his head to become a monk and escaping the palace, she needn’t worry. She had personally lit the fire, personally seen the flames reach Emperor Jianwen, personally locked the door, personally heard Emperor Jianwen’s screams and door-pounding.
She was certain Emperor Jianwen was thoroughly dead.
After “changing clothes,” Hu Shanwei came out with a relaxed expression. Led personally by Shen Qionglian, she went to Kunning Palace. The former main hall had burned to ashes; the current palace was newly built.
Empress Xu was too weak to sit and receive visitors, lying on a couch. After Hu Shanwei and A’Lei paid their respects, Empress Xu lifted her hand slightly: “Rise, be seated. Little Miss Hu Shanxiang, come here and let me have a good look at you.”
“Yes.” A’Lei approached and sat on the embroidered stool beside the couch. Empress Xu extended her thin hand and stroked A’Lei’s peach-fuzz-like face: “I’m very fond of that pair of peacocks you sent. Every morning and evening when the weather isn’t too hot, I go to the corridor and courtyard to watch the green peacocks dance. So beautiful—I feel like I also have a pair of wings and can fly up to overlook the entire world.”
A’Lei tried hard to overcome her tooth gap’s whistling obstacle, speaking slowly: “Empress Mother, the green peacocks were entirely arranged by sister. This commoner girl merely borrowed flowers to present to Buddha, offering them to Empress Mother. I dare not claim credit.”
Empress Xu laughed, reluctantly stroking her face: “What an honest little girl. Ji’er and He’er often mention you. Every time they mention your name, their eyes carry smiles…”
Looking at Empress Xu like this, Hu Shanwei was quite shocked. In her impression, Empress Xu was still from her days as Princess Yan—pregnant yet daring to gallop on horseback, leading mansion troops to raid gambling dens, tying her brother Xu Zengshou behind a horse and dragging him to forcibly cure his gambling addiction—that heroic and spirited image.
But now, Empress Xu’s weak and powerless appearance was extremely similar to Empress Xiaoci on her deathbed—equally haggard, also with Yunnan having just presented a pair of green peacocks, also envying the peacocks’ ability to fly.
The only difference was that Empress Xiaoci had single-mindedly sought death, refusing treatment and medication. The current Empress Xu’s eyes were full of desire for life.
Empress Xu didn’t want to die.
Hu Shanwei felt heartbroken, realizing she was about to see off the third empress of the Great Ming.
After talking with A’Lei for a few sentences, Empress Xu finally said: “The green peacocks are kept in the courtyard. Go feed them—they might still recognize you. Your sister and I have some things to discuss.”
A’Lei took her leave.
Meanwhile, in the Eastern Palace, a young fire-tender secretly reported to Imperial Grandson Zhu Zhanji: “Palace Supervisor Hu and Miss Hu have entered the palace. Court Lady Shen personally welcomed them, and they’ve now gone to Kunning Palace.”
Zhu Zhanji immediately stood up: “I’ll go to Kunning Palace to see… the green peacocks.”
The fire-tender said: “This slave secretly observed—Miss Hu smiles without showing her teeth and conducts herself appropriately. However, when she opens her mouth to speak, she’s missing a front tooth and seems somewhat uncomfortable.”
Both Zhu Zhanji and A’Lei were born in the spring of the thirty-first year of Hongwu. Xiao Ji was only about a month older than her, so their tooth-losing schedules were similar. Now both were in their second round of losing teeth. Xiao Ji’s front tooth had also been loose for the past couple of days, just not fallen out yet.
Zhu Zhanji hesitated for a moment, dismissed the fire-tender, looked at his loose front tooth in the mirror, and picked at it with his hand. It didn’t fall out. From past experience losing teeth, it would need about seven more days to fall out naturally.
There wasn’t time.
The summer was hot, and the room had ice basins for cooling. Zhu Zhanji grabbed a handful of ice and stuffed it in his mouth, deliberately biting hard with his loose front tooth.
Crack—the ice shattered and the tooth fell out too, his mouth full of bloody taste.
Zhu Zhanji spat out the ice and tooth together, picked out the tooth and put it in his pouch, rinsed his mouth, and to stop bleeding and pain, held another piece of ice as he headed toward Kunning Palace.
Now when A’Lei sister sees me, she won’t be embarrassed—we’re both missing a front tooth, so no one can laugh at the other.