The east wind thaws the ice, rain waters the peach blossoms, hibernating insects begin to stir, and the swallows are about to return. Spring has come again, completing the cycle.

This spring should have been just the beginning of an ordinary new year, but for the officials in the capital, the royal mansions in the provinces, various civil and military offices, and even the countless citizens of the Great Wei Dynasty, the twenty-sixth day of next month would be a special joyous occasion for national celebration.

This year was the sixth year of Zhaoping, and the twenty-sixth day of next month would be the Emperor’s fiftieth birthday celebration.

Since His Majesty’s ascension to the throne, seven years had passed in the blink of an eye. In private evaluations among officials, although there were accusations of harsh laws and excessive severity, the Emperor had been cultivating stability. Throughout his many years on the throne, he had never indulged in extravagant construction projects or sensual pleasures. He was diligent in state affairs, never slacking day or night. Now the country was peaceful, and the people lived and worked in contentment—this was evident to all. Therefore, on the occasion of his fiftieth birthday, numerous officials submitted memorials suggesting a general amnesty, proposing that the Ministry of Rites organize the birthday celebration ceremonies. When the time came, the whole country would celebrate, and all citizens would join in offering birthday blessings to the Emperor.

The Emperor had always shown little interest in celebrating his birthday. In previous years, he would merely perform the proper ceremonies at the ancestral temple. Officials did not offer congratulations, and this pattern repeated year after year. But this year, perhaps due to his advancing age, or perhaps because it was his fiftieth birthday, the Emperor unexpectedly broke from tradition and did not voice any objection. Thus, after the Lantern Festival, the Ministry of Rites and the Imperial Clan Court took the lead, with the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, the Court of Imperial Entertainments, and the Court of State Ceremonial assisting. The remaining five ministries and nine chief ministers of the court all set aside other matters and began preparations for the birthday celebration next month. The officials’ proposals for setting up altars, conducting Taoist ceremonies, and building temples for longevity prayers were all rejected by the Emperor. The only exception was from the previous year when the southeast coast had achieved a great victory in suppressing Japanese pirates, destroying their lairs on several islands in Penghu, killing nearly ten thousand pirates, capturing several thousand, with the remainder fleeing back to Japan in terror like homeless dogs. The coastal Japanese pirate problem, which had plagued the region for many years, was finally eliminated. The military and civilians rejoiced, and now they were eagerly waiting for the maritime ban to be lifted. The Ministry of War proposed holding a ceremony to present the captured pirates in front of the Meridian Gate of the Imperial City on the Emperor’s birthday to celebrate his longevity and demonstrate national power. The Emperor approved, and the Ministry of War began organizing it.

Late at night, approaching the third watch, Li Yuangui hurriedly entered the palace holding a memorial, with a slight smile on his face. He quickly stepped to the entrance of the hall, looked inside, and seeing it pitch black, asked a small eunuch on duty: “Has His Majesty retired?”

The small eunuch whispered: “His Majesty was slightly tired. There weren’t many documents, and after finishing them at the hour of hai (9-11 PM), he retired.”

Li Yuangui clutched the memorial in his hand, glanced again at the inner palace, and hesitated. Suddenly, from the depths of the pitch-black inner chamber came the Emperor’s voice: “Is that Li Yuangui?” The voice sounded slightly hoarse.

Li Yuangui quickly responded, tucked the memorial into his robe, and entered. He lit a candle, approached the dragon bed, and lifted a hanging curtain, securing it with a golden hook.

Xiao Lie opened his eyes and slowly sat up. Li Yuangui noticed that the back of the Emperor’s white inner garment was damp with sweat, clinging to his back, and his forehead glistened faintly as if he had just awakened from a dream. He quickly fetched a handkerchief to wipe the Emperor’s sweat.

Xiao Lie took it and slowly wiped his forehead.

“Does Your Majesty’s head still ache? You must take care of your dragon body. There’s no need to mind the confused words of confused people! The imperial physician also said that Your Majesty suffers from liver fire and congestion of the heart. If you relax your mind and ease your emotions daily, your body will naturally improve.”

Since the previous year, Xiao Lie’s health has gradually deteriorated compared to earlier years. He slept lightly at night and occasionally suffered from headaches. Today, after returning from court, he had experienced pain for a while, caused by the birthday celebration preparations. During the court assembly, when officials were discussing preparations, a Hanlin Academy scholar who also served as a Grand Secretary had submitted a memorial stating that the Eastern Palace was crucial to the national foundation and a matter of great importance to the court, yet the position remained vacant, causing anxiety among court officials. The deposed Crown Prince had been in mourning for many years, and he hoped the Emperor would use this birthday occasion to show mercy by recalling him, offering guidance and education to help him improve, which would be a great blessing for the court and the entire country.

Although this memorial did not explicitly mention reinstating the deposed Crown Prince, its implications were obvious.

In the seven years since the Emperor’s ascension, his only son, formerly the Crown Prince, had been deposed and sent to the ancestral lands to guard the tombs. During these years, there had been no activity in the imperial harem. According to rumors, the Emperor’s harem was virtually empty, and he had not summoned any consorts for years. While court officials maintained a calm surface, there were various speculations and undercurrents beneath. Especially in the past two years, officials had become increasingly concerned about this matter, and gradually some began to speculate that the Emperor intended to reinstate the Crown Prince but couldn’t find a suitable opportunity. Now that the birthday preparations were underway, perceptive individuals like this Grand Secretary seized the chance to submit a memorial, thinking they were anticipating the Emperor’s wishes. However, they never expected that upon hearing it, the Emperor would fly into a rage, immediately dismissing the Grand Secretary from office, ordering thirty strokes of the court rod, and then angrily adjourning court, leaving all the civil and military officials either trembling with fear or in astonished bewilderment. After the Emperor returned to the palace, his headache began, and the imperial physician came, working for quite some time before he gradually recovered.

Xiao Lie did not respond but wiped his sweat, tossed aside the handkerchief, and asked: “What brings you here in the middle of the night?”

Li Yuangui quickly smiled and said: “Your Majesty, the birthday congratulatory memorial from the Longyou Military Commissioner’s office has arrived overnight. Remembering Your Majesty’s instructions, I dared not hold it back and have brought it here…”

Xiao Lie immediately turned to look at Li Yuangui. Li Yuangui then took out the sealed congratulatory memorial from his bosom and respectfully presented it with both hands.

The Emperor stared at it for a moment, then slowly accepted it, broke the wax seal, steadied his hand, and finally pulled out the memorial.

It was a thin sheet of paper with only a few lines of text. The Emperor glanced at it, his gaze fixed for a moment, motionless. After a long while, his eyes gradually revealed a mixture of disappointment and anger. He threw the congratulatory memorial to the ground and laughed coldly: “I knew it! Just as expected!”

The memorial fluttered to the ground, falling before the dragon bed.

For the Emperor’s grand birthday celebration, all provincial royal mansions and civil and military offices of the seventh rank and above that could not come to the capital were required, according to regulations, to be led by their chief officials in performing local ceremonies to pray to heaven for the Emperor’s longevity, after which they would submit memorials.

Li Yuangui held his breath and glanced at the memorial, noticing the last line: “…We respectfully wish that His Imperial Majesty’s sacred birthday brings harmony with heaven and everlasting prosperity to the imperial lineage. Your subject Pei You’an and others sincerely rejoice and respectfully wish you ten thousand years of longevity.”

This was the standard congratulatory language traditionally used by officials of this dynasty to wish the Emperor longevity, not a word more, not a word less. During these days, dozens of similar congratulatory memorials were being sent daily from various offices throughout the provinces, all with identical content, differing only in the names of the chief officials.

Li Yuangui recognized Pei You’an’s handwriting, confirming it was written by him personally rather than by a secretary, which slightly eased his anxiety. He quickly picked up the memorial and smiled apologetically: “Your Majesty, please don’t overthink. This is a birthday congratulatory memorial, and all provinces have established protocols. How could Master Pei be innovative and different from others? He must certainly remember in his heart. Your Majesty, look at the handwriting—it’s Master Pei’s hand, written meticulously stroke by stroke, with traceable penmanship, showing that when writing this memorial, he must have been sitting upright with the utmost respect.”

Xiao Lie remained silent, slowly got off the bed, slipped on his shoes, and walked to the north window. He pushed it open and stood facing north, gazing at the pitch-black night sky.

Li Yuangui dared not speak again and stood aside with his hands lowered. Suddenly, he heard the Emperor ask: “Has there been any recent news about the child from Cui Yinshui?”

“Your Majesty, the last letter came at the end of last year, which I forwarded to Your Majesty. There has been no new information since. If Your Majesty is concerned, I will send a message immediately ordering him to report.”

The Emperor was silent for a moment, then said: “That child was born at the Beginning of Spring in the third year of Zhaoping. Now it’s the beginning of Spring in the sixth year—he’s three years old. I very much want to see him.”

“Next month I will be fifty years old. My grandson should also return.”

He turned around, looking at Li Yuangui, and said slowly.

Li Yuangui knelt, kowtowing: “This servant will carry out your orders.”

…

As spring arrived in Suye City, ice and snow gradually melted. In a few days, it would be the Spring Fair.

During the Spring Fair, merchants from the Western Regions and the interior would gather in Suye City to exchange goods. Wine and jade from the Western Regions, medicinal herbs, refined iron, silk and cotton from the interior, porcelain, and even horses from the nomadic peoples—goods from all over the world would be displayed in dazzling variety. During that half-month, caravans of merchants and horse teams would come and go continuously, with people from all directions bringing their families to attend. The bustling activity in Suye City could almost rival that of cities in the central plains.

Because Suye City was located at the intersection of major routes, this Spring Fair where merchants gathered to trade had existed for more than a decade, but its scale had always been small, with few people, and it would end in just a few days. It was only during these past three years, with Pei You’an assuming the position of Longyou Military Commissioner, his fame spreading to the western frontier, and his relocation of the official residence to this place while encouraging merchants from the Western Regions and the interior to come trade, that the Spring Fair in Suye City began to attract many merchants who came out of admiration, rapidly expanding in scale. Last year, it continued for more than ten days. This year, although there were still a few days until the fair began, merchants had already started arriving in the past few days, with inns filled. Throughout the city’s streets and alleys, the sound of camel bells could be heard everywhere, seemingly even more lively than last year.

All merchants coming to trade in the city needed to register at the Military Commissioner’s office in the northern part of the city first. So early in the morning, the clerks setting up tables and chairs in front of the office were already busy, with merchants coming and going in an endless stream. Many people, even after completing their registration, were reluctant to leave, lingering nearby, seeking connections in hopes of being introduced inside to meet the renowned Military Commissioner.

While the front of the office was so lively, a small training ground at the back was very quiet. A young boy had come early in the morning to begin his daily practice.

The boy was only three or four years old, wearing a light blue tunic. He had handsome features, with his hair combed into two knots on either side of his head, like two small horns, making him look very adorable. Upon arrival, he took a horse stance before an incense stick burning on a stand opposite him.

This was the task his father had assigned him. His father had said that since last month, when he turned three, he should begin his education. On odd-numbered days, he would read a passage and practice calligraphy each morning; on even-numbered days, he would hold a horse stance on the small training ground for the duration of one incense stick, then practice shooting twenty arrows.

Today was an even-numbered day. His father was busy and couldn’t accompany him, so the little one had come by himself. As usual, he assumed the horse stance as his father had taught him, following the posture precisely, with proper form.

The sun gradually rose higher, and the incense burned lower. Having just started his training, the boy soon had sweat beading on his forehead. Accompanying him was an attendant—fair-skinned, beardless, with a high-pitched voice—none other than the eunuch Cui Yinshui, who had been with this young master for three years. Knowing the boy was struggling, he felt very distressed. Looking around and seeing that the male master wasn’t present, he hurriedly came to the incense and, puffing out his cheeks, began blowing forcefully at the incense, gasping for breath until his eyes rolled back. In this weather, his back was covered in hot sweat, but he finally managed to blow out the incense. He let out a long breath, turned around, and happily said: “Young Master! Look, I’ve blown out the incense for you! You’ve completed your horse stance for today!”

The boy, who was Pei You’an’s son, seemed not to have heard and continued holding his horse stance, his small body motionless, eyes fixed only on the black shadow cast by the weapons rack in front of him. Only when the shadow joined with the corner of the wall did he stand up straight and kick his slightly sore little legs: “Attendant Cui, if my father comes later and asks if I practiced for a full incense stick, I’ll have to tell him you blew out the incense, and I had to watch the shadow of the sun from the day before yesterday. I don’t know if that’s equal to a full incense stick.” His voice still carried a childish tone, sounding soft, but Cui Yinshui was quite frightened. He let out an “oh my” and crouched down, alternately slapping his cheeks, saying, “Shame on your loose tongue!” With a mournful face, he pleaded, “Young Master, please spare me this time. I won’t dare do it again!”

The boy watched him slap his face a few times, then went over and took away his hand, saying: “Attendant Cui, I know you mean well, but I don’t like this. When I promise my father something, I must keep my word! I was just scaring you. But next time, if you do this again, I’ll be angry!”

Cui Yinshui nodded vigorously, and only then did the boy smile. He then took a small iron bow that his father had made for him from the weapons rack, stood several yards away on the ground, nocked an arrow, drew the bowstring fully, aimed, and shot toward the target.

With a “whoosh,” the arrowhead is embedded in the target. Although it was two inches away from the bullseye, for his young age, his focus and posture were remarkably steady, already showing traces of a master’s demeanor.

After shooting one arrow and seeing that it hadn’t hit the center of the target, the boy continued practicing, arrow after arrow, long past the required twenty, as if driven by determination. He practiced with unwavering focus, gradually warming up and sweating profusely until he had to remove his outer garment.

Cui Yinshui watched from the side, feeling deeply distressed and almost wanting to take the boy’s place, but this time he dared not make a sound. He just stayed beside the child, helping to pass him arrows. At this moment, a graceful beauty in her early twenties entered through the training ground gate. With bright eyes and misty temples, she wore a pale yellow-green underskirt. Because of the cold wind, she had draped a goose-yellow short cape with a white fox collar embroidered with begonia patterns over her shoulders. Extremely beautiful, she walked toward them. Hearing footsteps, Cui Yinshui turned his head and saw it was the mistress, and his face lit up with joy. He quickly went to meet her, gesturing and explaining at length.

Ci’er had just turned three last month when Pei You’an brought him to the training ground. Jiafu felt worried and initially tried to stop it, but unexpectedly, her son didn’t accept her intervention. Jiafu had no choice but to let him go. Just now, hearing from Dianxiang that the master had gone out on business, she was concerned and came to look for herself. Seeing her son shooting arrows one after another, she called out to him. Hearing her, the boy saw his mother had come and quickly put down his bow and arrows, running over to her.

Jiafu embraced him and, seeing his face covered in sweat, touched him and found his back was also damp with sweat. She felt extremely distressed and quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat, asking if he was tired.

With his father, Ci’er behaved like a little adult, but with Jiafu, he reverted to being a soft little boy. He hugged Jiafu’s neck, leaned his small face against hers, and nodded.

Jiafu saw that the palms of his little hands had red marks from the bowstring, which broke her heart. She couldn’t help but blame Pei You’an inwardly. After asking Cui Yinshui and learning that he had already shot the twenty arrows Pei You’an had required, she took her son back to the room, helped him wipe down, and changed his clothes inside and out.

Muxiang brought a bowl of snacks, and Jiafu fed him personally. After Ci’er had eaten a few bites, Yang Yun came seeking an audience, reporting that the birthday gifts along with the birthday banner had been sealed and sent to the capital by express courier.

News of the Emperor’s fiftieth birthday celebration had reached Longyou long ago, but Pei You’an had only sent a formal congratulatory memorial, with no other expression, continuing his busy routine each day. Jiafu had hurriedly made a birthday banner and personally crafted a celebratory garment, sending them to the capital with Yang Yun in the name of the Longyou Military Commissioner’s office.

She hadn’t hidden her work on the banner and clothes from Pei You’an, deliberately letting him see them one day. He had stared at them briefly, then walked away with a stern face. Seeing that he hadn’t voiced any objection, she finished making them and asked Yang Yun to send them out.

After Yang Yun reported and withdrew, Jiafu continued feeding her son. Ci’er blinked his eyes curiously and asked: “Mother, where is the capital? What is the Emperor like? Why did you personally make clothes for his birthday? I saw that day, why was Father very unhappy?”