Every bit of Zhao Hanzhang’s response struck at Zhang Mao and the people and soldiers of Xiliang. The people and soldiers of Xiliang, who had been weeping in grief over Zhang Gui’s death from illness, quickly transferred these emotions onto Zhao Hanzhang.
“They say the Grand General and the Emperor have a good relationship, but it turns out to be this good.”
“Of course it’s extremely good. Before the Emperor ascended the throne, when we in Xiliang had a grain shortage, she sent people to deliver food. When we lacked people, she relocated many commoners here.”
Currently, nearly one-third of Xiliang’s population consisted of people who had migrated from within the passes. Those years had been so difficult that leaving their homeland had become the easiest mode of survival for them.
Their feelings toward Zhang Gui and Zhao Hanzhang ran even deeper and truer.
Back then, they had left the passes with fearful faces, afraid of being reduced to horse slaves. But Zhang Gui didn’t treat them as inferior people. Instead, he directly carved out Hanzhou, dividing a large province in two to accommodate these disaster victims.
When they felt grateful yet anxious, Zhao Hanzhang promptly sent several batches of grain and personally wrote to ask them to settle in Xiliang. If they really couldn’t make it, they could return home to Yuzhou, where Zhao’s Army would certainly find them a place to settle.
Zhang Gui also personally came to see them, saying that within the four seas all are brothers, that they shared the same lineage and were originally family, telling them to settle peacefully in Xiliang.
So they loved Zhang Gui and loved Zhao Hanzhang. Upon learning of Zhang Gui’s death from illness, these people wept in the streets, crying all the way north, wanting to see Zhang Gui off one last time.
The local people of Xiliang felt this even more keenly. Their lives were hard, but Zhang Gui had always held up a tile-covered canopy for them. Though there was wind and rain, it could be withstood.
At this time, they wished they could tear out their hearts for Zhang Gui, wished he could have all the beauty this world had to offer.
Thus, the mourning honors after death were extremely heavy.
If the court refused to allow Xiliang to hold a grand funeral because of the Eldest Princess, though the soldiers and people of Xiliang wouldn’t dare rebel, they would certainly harbor resentment in their hearts—resentment toward the court, and endless grudges toward Zhao Hanzhang.
But now, Zhao Hanzhang put Zhang Gui first, with the whole nation in mourning. This was an extremely weighty honor—generally, aside from emperors, empresses, empress dowagers, and crown princes, no one received this distinction.
This alone soothed the pain in the hearts of Xiliang’s soldiers and people.
Zhao Hanzhang also posthumously appointed him as Grand Commandant.
She had once served as Grand Commandant. According to the rules of avoidance, from now on, as long as it was the state of Hua, no one would ever again hold the position of Grand Commandant. Though it was a posthumous appointment, this was also a great honor signifying “you are like me, you are equal to me.”
Then there was the posthumous title “Wu Mu,” which was a superior posthumous name.
Therefore, after this event, the sense of belonging that Xiliang’s soldiers and people felt toward the state of Hua and toward the Emperor reached its highest point. Zhang Mao was also willing to give his all for Zhao Hanzhang.
Only after the funeral ended did the Ministry of Rites produce the imperial edict, commanding Zhang Mao to inherit the position of Prince of Xiliang and succeed Zhang Gui in managing Xiliang.
Zhang Mao accepted the command and inherited the princedom that same month. Then he handed over the cotton seeds that had been distributed to the envoys, having them return to the capital together with the officials from the Ministry of Rites.
Besides bringing seeds, they also carried a memorial from Zhang Mao. He stated that Xiliang was remote and talent was scarce, so he requested that the court establish more schools in Xiliang, allowing more students from Xiliang to participate in the talent recruitment examinations.
Second, aside from him and his father, none of Xiliang’s officials had received appointments or rewards from the court. He requested that the Emperor bestow rewards upon Xiliang’s officials.
Ordinary people might think this was Zhang Mao seeking credit for Xiliang officials, being greedy for more. But all intelligent people could see at a glance that Zhang Mao was making Xiliang fully integrate into the state of Hua. He was returning to the court the authority to appoint and reward officials in Xiliang.
From now on, Xiliang would no longer be a tributary state but a place directly governed by the state of Hua. The Prince of Xiliang would merely be a prince managing affairs in Xiliang.
Zhao Hanzhang never expected such a harvest. Her fingers tightened around the memorial, and she didn’t speak for a long while.
Ji Yuan was very excited and said to Zhao Hanzhang, “Your Majesty, the Prince of Xiliang understands righteousness deeply and should be greatly rewarded.”
Ming Yu was also very happy but quickly regained his composure, saying, “Lavish rewards at this time would be inappropriate. Your Majesty might record this matter and bestow favor later.”
Zhao Hanzhang nodded.
She didn’t appoint or dismiss any Xiliang officials at this time, only issuing appointment letters based on current officials. Then she incorporated Xiliang’s education system into that of Hua. Next year, a new educational allocation would be sent to Xiliang, along with instructors and some teachers.
Now that it had turned cold, she decided to send a censorate investigation team to Xiliang next year, primarily to conduct research on governance, geography, and agriculture.
Xiliang was bitterly cold. For it to develop, it would certainly need support from the Central Plains.
Xiliang’s cattle, sheep, horses, and medicinal herbs would all make excellent commodities, but… there were still too few. Due to geographical environmental influences, their agricultural economic development would lag far behind the Central Plains.
Therefore, assistance from the court in other areas was needed.
Xiliang was a necessary waypoint on the Silk Road.
When alone, Zhao Hanzhang stood before the map, staring silently at that western region. Two years had passed, and Zhao Xin and Zhang Shi still hadn’t returned.
Zhao Hanzhang sighed. Hearing voices from outside the hall, she withdrew her gaze from the map and turned to look toward the entrance of the great hall.
After a while, the speaking voices grew clearer, footsteps sounded, and Ting He also heard the sounds. She glanced at Zhao Hanzhang and hurried out to greet them.
Before long, Lady Wang entered holding the awakened child. Ming Ming was rarely awake. Though held horizontally, her round eyes moved nimbly, curiously staring at the carved patterns on the roof beams.
Lady Wang turned around, supporting the baby’s head to sit her upright, facing Zhao Hanzhang’s face. She smiled and said, “Ming Ming, look, who is this? This is your mother—Mother—”
Zhao Hanzhang met the infant’s bright rolling eyes and couldn’t help but smile. She grasped her little fingers and squeezed them, “It’s snowing outside. Why did you bring her over?”
“We walked along the corridors, with palace attendants on both sides blocking the wind. It’s not cold at all.” Lady Wang chided, “Once you get busy, you forget to return to the rear hall. When the child wants to see you, she can’t find you.”
Zhao Hanzhang said wordlessly, “She sleeps ten out of twelve hours a day. She’s awake longest in the evening, and both her father and I accompany her then. I’m the one who misses her. At her age, how could she know to miss me?”
“Nonsense. It’s mother-daughter nature. Don’t look at how young she is now, but what her eyes see and what her body feels—she has awareness of it all,” Lady Wang said. “You must spend more time with her. Only then will she be close to you in the future.”
Lady Wang felt sorry for the child. She placed her in Zhao Hanzhang’s arms and patted her swaddling, “She only nursed from you for two months. Every time I think of it, my heart aches.”
Ting He quickly said, “Your Majesty, are the Eldest Princess’s wet nurses not doing their duty?”
In this era, mothers would personally nurse their children, from commoners to empresses. Even in extremely wealthy families with wet nurses, mothers would personally nurse for the first hundred days.
This was not only to cultivate mother-child affection and comfort the child, but also because people had discovered that children raised this way had lower infant mortality rates, and the mother’s body also recovered more quickly.
Of course, common families wouldn’t contemplate these matters, but wealthy families and aristocratic clans with the means would pay attention and study them.
After all, infant mortality in this era was truly high. Over thousands of years, they had long discovered that initial breast milk was best, especially from the biological mother. Infants who consumed it would be healthier and stronger.
And when mothers nursed their children, their bodily pain would be somewhat relieved and recovery would be faster.
This had even led to absurd practices. It was said that during the Han dynasty, members of the imperial family would consume human milk, specifically from women who had given birth within a hundred days. For this purpose, many women about to give birth were collected.
Moreover, this habit once became fashionable locally, with many aristocratic families following suit.
Zhao Hanzhang had hired four wet nurses for the child, but she herself had also nursed for two months—first, to give the child the nutrition of colostrum to make her healthier; second, for the good of her own body.
Now she had begun weaning and was focusing her energy on state affairs.
She loved her child but didn’t want to spend most of her day with her.
She felt the current time they spent together was just right. In the morning when she was most energetic, she would hold the baby and play for two quarters of an hour. Then the baby would go nurse and sleep while she went to court to handle state affairs.
When she returned in the afternoon, the baby had already slept through the day. To help her sleep better at night, this was her time to explore the world. She and Fu Tinghan would accompany her, talking to her and playing with her little hands and feet for half an hour. Then the baby would go bathe, nurse, and sleep, and the couple could also do other things.
Balancing family happiness with freedom—wasn’t this wonderful?
Zhao Hanzhang comforted Lady Wang, “Mother, rest assured. We share a blood bond. How could we not be close?”
Lady Wang still felt children were closest when raised by oneself. Hadn’t she personally raised Sanniang and Erlang?
She advised, “In any case, the child has wet nurses at her side. Why not keep the child with you? You can look at her daily and give orders to the wet nurses when needed.”
Zhao Hanzhang didn’t respond.
Although this child was well-behaved, she would still cry when needed. Zhao Hanzhang hadn’t personally raised a child, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how exhausting it was. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have assigned four wet nurses.
Just eating and drinking alone was exhausting. While she discussed matters with ministers, if the child lay beside them, she’d be carried away to change diapers, then to nurse, then to be soothed and entertained. Was she working or staying at home?
Zhao Hanzhang didn’t feel this empire truly belonged to her alone. To be frank, being emperor was just a job—a job where she could realize her aspirations and blueprints.
Since it was a job, public and private matters should be kept separate.
Seeing Zhao Hanzhang’s displeased expression, Qinggu quickly interrupted Lady Wang’s continued persuasion, smiling, “Your Majesty, didn’t you come to find Her Majesty about the Eldest Princess’s hundredth-day celebration?”
“Ah, right,” only then did Lady Wang remember. She quickly said, “Princess Hongnong sent many things for the child. Previously, because of the mourning for the former Prince of Xiliang, we didn’t even celebrate our Ming Ming’s full month. Now for the hundredth day, shouldn’t we at least celebrate properly?”
Zhao Hanzhang turned to glance at the ice and snow outside. The twenty-seven days of national mourning had passed, but she still shook her head, “Invite the Princess and the Prince Consort into the palace. We’ll celebrate among family. Let’s wait for her first birthday.”
Lady Wang felt sorry for her.
Zhao Hanzhang said, “Mother, rest assured. In the future, her younger brothers and sisters will all be the same. We won’t make a big fuss for their full month or hundredth day—we’ll only celebrate their first birthdays.”
Lady Wang: …She felt even more sorry.
Zhao Hanzhang knew that having achieved her cherished wish, this was when she loved Ming Ming most. Never mind herself—even she and Zhao Erlang together couldn’t compare to one of Ming Ming’s little fingers.
The nickname she’d chosen for the child was Zhuyu, meaning “like pearls and jade,” but Zhao Hanzhang found it too clichéd. She felt Ming Ming was more suitable. The child’s piercing first cry had frightened both her and Fu Tinghan, which was why she insisted on calling her Ming Ming.
Lady Wang also wanted to have the child live with her, but she feared the child wouldn’t be close to Zhao Hanzhang. So she planned to have Zhao Hanzhang play with the child during the day, and at night, when Zhao Hanzhang needed to rest and prepare for the next day’s work, she would sleep with the child.
But Zhao Hanzhang felt carrying the child back and forth was troublesome. The weather had turned cold, making it easy to catch a chill. Moreover, changing places day and night would make the child uncomfortable with the shifting scenery. So she insisted the child be raised in her rear hall.
The front and rear halls were connected yet separated by some distance. Palace attendants could care for the child in the rear hall without affecting the front hall, and she could occasionally go back to check on her.
In less than three months, mother and daughter had argued several times over raising the child, from major matters like the child’s nursing and sleeping to minor details like the wet nurses’ meals and daily routines.
By comparison, Princess Hongnong’s neither-too-close-nor-too-distant behavior made her more comfortable.
Since giving birth, Princess Hongnong frequently entered the palace to see the child, but never interfered with how she raised her. Each visit, she only brought things, looked at the child, and left.
Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t help but say to Fu Tinghan, “If only my mother could be like the Princess.”
Fu Tinghan, having been caught in the middle for two months, maintained his composure. While dangling a colorful embroidered ball to amuse the gurgling Ming Ming, he said, “If Mother were like the Princess, you’d probably be sad, thinking she doesn’t care about you.”
Zhao Hanzhang swore, “I definitely wouldn’t think that. Heaven above, please make her not love Ming Ming so much.”
Fu Tinghan couldn’t help but laugh. After thinking for a moment, he said, “National mourning has passed. The capital has had several snowfalls. Guo Pu says there will be more snow later this month. I heard someone say the plum groves in the suburbs have budded. The weather has been good these past days, sunny and bright. By late month, the buds might be half-open. If you don’t want Mother to always focus her attention on you and the child, why not have her organize a plum blossom viewing banquet? She could also go out of the palace to relax.”
Zhao Hanzhang immediately agreed, “Exactly. It’s freezing cold anyway. Let’s make the plum viewing banquet charitable in nature. The money collected can be donated to the orphanages and to poor commoners everywhere. Even if it just provides more firewood, clothing, and bedding, that’s good.”
The imperial family’s charitable work had always been under the Empress Dowager’s name. Because both Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan wielded real power in the front hall, many charitable investments were made in the Empress Dowager’s name.
Zhao Hanzhang made a note of this, planning to find Lady Wang the next day. With work to keep her busy and attention diverted, their mother-daughter relationship shouldn’t continue deteriorating rapidly over the child, right?
Zhao Hanzhang leaned over the bed to watch Ming Ming straining to grab at the colorful ribbons. She touched the baby’s soft cheek, “It’s all your fault. Why are you so lovable?”
Ming Ming seemed to know her mother was talking to her. She excitedly kicked her legs and waved her hands. Then her little hands clenched tight, she stared with wide eyes, and her face instantly turned red from holding her breath.
Zhao Hanzhang’s body stiffened. Fu Tinghan immediately knelt up to carry her out, repeatedly saying, “Wait, wait, just wait.”
Ming Ming had already exhaled. A foul smell immediately permeated the great hall. She was happy now, her face relaxed. She grinned and happily waved her hands again.
Zhao Hanzhang’s expression remained unchanged as she got off the bed and retreated two steps, moving away from the father and daughter. She turned and called outside, “Someone come—”
—