Yuan Cheng was defeated, utterly and irreversibly defeated.
The one who defeated him was Yuanbao, just one month old—his exquisitely carved son.
It all stemmed from choosing a name.
Yuan Cheng told the uninvited guests on the first floor who had come to celebrate Yuanbao’s full month that he had chosen a very resounding formal name for his son—Hu.
Li Yan asked which character it was.
“Hu, meaning tiger.” Yuan Cheng explained.
Most of those present were intellectuals. When Yuan Cheng said this, they understood. But upon understanding, they looked at each other in dismay.
Mo Zi naturally knew how to read characters too, but due to preconceptions, after so many years she still reacted more slowly to ancient characters and needed to see them written to understand. So she had Yuan Cheng write it out.
After Yuan Cheng finished writing, Mo Zi held Yuanbao and leaned in to look. She only saw numerous strokes that made her eyes dizzy and hazy. Before she had time to express her opinion, the baby began crying wildly.
Yuanbao’s little face scrunched up in a ball. His dark eyes, which opened during intervals, looked utterly aggrieved. His pale pink cheeks flushed red, his little hands waving.
Mo Zi didn’t think much of it, only saying, “The baby is probably hungry. Please excuse me for a moment.”
But after Mo Zi had nursed him and changed his diaper, Yuanbao still cried incessantly.
Li Yan took the opportunity to say, “Minister Yuan, though this character has the fierce meaning of a tiger, I see that the young master’s features resemble his father—elegant and noble, intelligent and clever—incompatible with Hu.”
Wei An also said, “Hu, though brave, is ominous and makes people fearful rather than affectionate. Yet the young master has a blessed appearance and deeply gathers everyone’s hopes.” He didn’t finish, but clearly felt it was inappropriate.
Everyone openly expressed their opinions. Not one person liked this formal name.
Mo Zi now noticed that Yuanbao in her arms had stopped crying. As if watching the excitement, he gazed round-eyed at the discussion unfolding downstairs about him.
It was actually a coincidence, but Zhang Zhen used it as irrefutable evidence. “As soon as Minister Yuan finished writing the character, the young master cried loudly. In my view, this character clashes with the young master’s destiny. It’s really not good. Why not pool our wisdom—each person think of one character and select the best.”
Mo Zi teased Yuanbao with a laugh. “Little treasure, crying is just right—father doesn’t dote on you, more love for you.”
Luo Ying beside her muttered, “Mother doesn’t dote on him either.” Didn’t even want to hold a full-month banquet, and when she came, only wanted one large private room. If not for the owner being clever and spreading word about Yuanbao’s full month celebration, it really would have been done secretly.
Mo Zi pretended not to hear. She loved Yuanbao, but didn’t necessarily need to show it. Aiming toward being close friends with her son, she preferred adopting a free-range style from an early age. Like now, watching the unintentional major collision between father and son with great interest.
“In that case, why not use Yuanbao?” This name should be good enough—everyone loves it. Yuan Cheng “compromised.”
“This…” Led by Li Yan, they were still unsatisfied and continued discussing based on the little one’s features. “The young master has a full forehead and will surely achieve great things. Yuanbao is fine as a nickname, but the formal name seems lacking. If Minister Yuan doesn’t mind, let us each write a character and choose a name for the young master. How about it?”
Facing so many people’s earnest expectations, Yuan Cheng was thus defeated by his own son and agreed to pool their wisdom.
In the end, it was still Li Yan who proposed the character Hao, meaning vast waters, harmonizing with being born in water, also harmonizing with his birth date, eight characters, and five elements, and further harmonizing with his parents’ abilities. It received unanimous approval.
Yuan Hao, nickname Yuanbao—thus settled.
Many years later, when Mo Zi recalled her eldest son’s full-month banquet, she thought perhaps a good name really could influence a person’s entire life.
After the new year, in the spring of the third month, when the land warmed from its frozen state and Yuanbao could already crawl, Daqiu finally broke its prolonged silence and sent a personal letter from the King of Daqiu to Great Zhou and Song territory.
Yuan Cheng read it to Mo Zi: “Since Daqiu became involved in Yuling’s affairs, disputes have continued endlessly and prejudice has intensified. People believe Daqiu has ambitions to swallow the world, thus panic spreads and they view Daqiu as a tiger or wolf. However, my heart is like a clear mirror. I only do what should be done, with no shame before others. Nande rebelled on its own—Daqiu did not take the opportunity to invade. Song territory occupies two Yuling provinces—Daqiu has not declared anything either. Great Zhou blamed us for the Crown Prince’s death—Daqiu drew its blade only in self-defense. Within all this are many misunderstandings. Now it has been confirmed that the Zhou Crown Prince’s death was done by a small band of Daqiu refugees with sinister intentions, sowing discord between our two nations’ friendly alliance. Therefore, taking advantage of spring’s warmth and blooming flowers, I invite the Great Zhou Emperor and Song territory’s Minister Yuan and Marquis Chu to Qingyu to discuss peaceful matters and renew our hundred-year treaty of mutual peace. Qingyu’s most beautiful sights are望shan and Flower Hill. In the fifth month, I shall enjoy with all gentlemen the flying snow of flowers and waves.”
Mo Zi lay on the ground drawing ship diagrams, not raising her head as she spoke. “I don’t believe a single word. The brave warriors killed by the Northern Domain Divine Sect on Autumn Song Mountain—their bones aren’t even cold yet, and he has no ambitions? The death of Great Zhou’s Crown Prince was clearly Consort Xiang wanting to harm me and Prince Su to sow discord—what refugees? Invading Yuling—the whole world knows he coveted its fertile land and great wealth. As for not helping Nande, it’s because his treasury was depleted, he was suppressed by Great Zhou, and our Song army’s momentum was like a rainbow, so he simply gave up. Full of lies, talking about renewing a hundred-year treaty—it kills me with laughter.”
Yuan Cheng watched little Yuanbao under the tree being sat on by Luo Ying’s daughter, plump Xiami, his mood inexplicably pleasant. To Mo Zi, who was concentrating on her diagrams, he said not a word about this. “But his gesture of ceasing hostilities has won considerable praise from scholars in all three territories. Moreover, the Great Zhou Emperor has already agreed to go. If we adamantly refuse, I’m afraid we’ll be in an unfavorable position.”
“In my view, the internal situation in Daqiu isn’t good. Earlier, Jin Si told me the King of Daqiu closed the palace gates, not allowing anyone in or out except physicians. Last year he hardly initiated a single battle, only strictly defending. I certainly don’t think he’s ill, but it is rather strange. By the way, have your spies sent any news?”
“You ask early, but not as timely as asking now. News just arrived this morning—it’s about Consort Xiang.” Yuanbao was rescued from under the plump girl by A’Hao. Yuan Cheng sighed. “She consecutively poisoned two pregnant concubines in the palace and beat to death dozens of eunuchs and palace maids. The King of Daqiu closed the palace gates to investigate this matter.”
Mo Zi raised her head, and after surprise, quickly calmed down, a smile appearing on her face. “I’m truly forgetful. This affair actually has some connection to me. Back then, I had Su Lan and Ding Gou send gold to Ke Na Yueying and told her Wu Yan’s weakness, just so she could have a chance to get pregnant and bear a child. I shouldn’t underestimate her—she actually made someone else the scapegoat.”
Yuan Cheng didn’t ask Mo Zi about the weakness. “Consort Xiang also wanted to kill her sister. At that time, Noble Consort Ying left the palace to visit temples with the Dowager Consort. When assassins tried to take her life, she was saved by someone. You should know whose people they were, right?”
“Duan Geshou.” How could Mo Zi not be clear about the bomb she personally planted for Consort Xiang? “Noble Consort Ying has ambitions, and Duan Geshou has ambitions too. Isn’t their cooperation very good? Among those women around the King of Daqiu, perhaps only Consort Xiang truly loves him. Loves him to the point of reckless abandon, stopping at nothing, even letting emotion dominate reason. That’s why Consort Xiang lost to her own sister. She once looked down on Yueying so much, but imperial families don’t tolerate true love. Because loving too much blinds the eyes and deafens the ears—being too clever leads to being outsmarted by one’s own cleverness.”
“I haven’t said yet how the King of Daqiu handled this matter.” Will it be as she predicts? Yuan Cheng smiled and squatted down, reaching out to tuck the loose strands of hair by her temples behind her ear.
“This matter alarmed the Dowager Consort who worships Buddha—naturally it can’t be handled casually. Though the Dowager Consort isn’t Wu Yan’s birth mother, she raised him, and Wu Yan treats her with great respect. Consort Xiang making such a huge commotion probably also had the intention of testing Wu Yan’s affection. Imagine—if she killed so many people and Wu Yan still doted on her as before, what difference would there be between her and the actual empress? Only—” Mo Zi sneered coldly. “The timing was wrong. The clan chiefs were already dissatisfied with Wu Yan neglecting princesses from various clans. Moreover, he still has no son—no continuation of his bloodline has already become a crisis affecting Daqiu. If Wu Yan indulged Consort Xiang, he’d find it very difficult to answer to the clans. Though Consort Xiang has methods and family support, such a test went too far.”
“If it were you, it could still be attempted.” Yuan Cheng was discussing the matter objectively, without any jealous component.
Mo Zi shook her head. “What do you think? If I really became his empress and did such a thing, I’d be in trouble just the same. The King of Daqiu’s power isn’t absolute. Many times he needs to balance the forces of various clans.” Even if Wu Yan spoke with solemn vows, she would no longer be blinded by naivety.
“The King of Daqiu has confined Consort Xiang to the cold palace. How she’ll ultimately be dealt with hasn’t been decided, but the clan chiefs’ denunciations are very fierce—they seem determined not to rest until she’s executed. But her father truly doesn’t leave his house and says his daughter is at the king’s disposal, obviously abandoning Consort Xiang. Noble Consort Ying was elevated to Imperial Noble Consort Ying and commands the imperial harem. The fetus in her womb is considered a blessed child bestowed by the Eagle God and Wolf King. The power shift in Daqiu’s harem has elevated the Duan family to the most honored position aside from the royal clan. Aren’t you afraid of inviting a wolf into your home?” Yuan Cheng asked.
“It’s the King of Daqiu’s home being invaded. What does it have to do with me?” Mo Zi asked in return.
“I originally only wanted to avoid everything from the past—not seeking revenge, not seeking satisfaction. I can’t hold others responsible for my own foolishness. But they keep pushing their luck, and I can’t just let it go. Some accounts must be settled slowly. Consort Xiang is the first.” She had also learned to scheme in the shadows. “Qingyu—will you go or not?”
“Qingyu is a small island with many mountains, only one town, famous for doing maritime trade. For a hundred years no one has declared sovereignty over it, and it’s located precisely in the waters between Great Zhou, Yuling, and Daqiu. It truly is an ideal place for talks.” Yuan Cheng gave a positive evaluation.
But Mo Zi only cared whether he would go, and rarely disagreed with Yuan Cheng’s words. “Appears to have no owner on the surface—who knows what the reality is? Yuling is timid, Great Zhou takes a high posture, but Daqiu fights for every inch of land. Yet it alone lets Qingyu go? If there’s sincere desire to talk, come to Yang City. As long as he dares to come, I’ll let him return to Daqiu alive.”
Yuan Cheng pondered for a long while, paced out, saying he needed to discuss with the Three Departments and Six Ministries.
Mo Zi had spoken casually and didn’t take it to heart. She rolled up the diagrams and took Yuanbao to the shipyard.
By evening, Yang Qiao brought the latest news.
“It was decided by vote. As long as Daqiu agrees to change the discussion location to Daqiu’s capital, thereby showing sufficient sincerity, Song territory will participate.” As she spoke, she took Yuanbao into her arms, wanting to kiss that adorable little face, but gave up under Mo Zi’s stern gaze.
Mo Zi had said that kissing a baby’s cheeks could easily damage both sides of the face, causing the baby to drool long-term.
“The capital?!” Mo Zi was astonished. “Who came up with such a rotten idea?”
Yang Qiao glanced at her sideways.