After a moment of pleasure, Huo Qi Lang immediately got up to dress and put on boots as usual, tightened her belt, and placed her sword within reach to guard against unexpected threats.
She wasn’t afraid of outsiders knowing about her private affair with her employer – what she feared was if assassins suddenly attacked and she had to face enemies improperly dressed, which would be unseemly.
As for Li Yuanying, she only gently helped him cover up with the quilt, carefully tucking in the corners to prevent him from catching cold after sweating. His sleep was both light and precious, so she simply omitted the tedious process of dressing him, letting him change into new clothes when he woke tomorrow to avoid trouble.
Huo Qi Lang suspected Madam Li had detected some clues, because she always timely led the servants away, and those incomplete luxurious nightclothes disappeared without trace while disheveled bedding was quietly replaced without mention.
This third-rank external court lady always prioritized Prince Shao’s health above all else, focusing on major issues while overlooking minor ones. As for Li Yuanying’s personal preferences, she never inquired or interfered, playing deaf and dumb. As long as he could eat and sleep well, whether it was Huo Qi Lang or Huo Ba Niang, Madam Li didn’t actually care.
Since it was daytime, Li Yuanying only slept for over an hour before waking. He refused to put back on the sweat-soaked undergarments, and with no one attending him, he ordered Huo Qi to find new clothes to change into.
Among the chests full of silks and satins, mostly in cool colors, Huo Qi Lang searched back and forth until she finally found a crimson flower-patterned silk garment. She happily brought it over saying: “Let me serve the Great King in changing clothes.”
She immediately draped it over Li Yuanying. The red clothing made him look devastatingly beautiful, never tiring to behold, yet the beauty’s expression was quite displeased.
Li Yuanying frowned deeply, asking unhappily: “Why did you find a red one?”
Huo Qi Lang flattered: “This color is so beautiful – it suits the Great King better than cool colors.”
Li Yuanying said irritably: “I don’t like red clothes. If you love wearing them, buy your own. The wages I pay you are enough to afford these things.”
However, Huo Qi Lang had already agilely helped him put it on, even faster than when she undressed him, coaxing: “It’s just for one day anyway – leaving it unused would be wasteful. I love bright colors in my heart, but couldn’t afford them before and feared blood stains that wouldn’t wash clean, so I only wore black.”
Li Yuanying had intended to refuse, but hearing “blood stains that wouldn’t wash clean,” he said no more.
Beautiful people in beautiful clothes were naturally pleasing to the eye. If not for worrying about him catching cold, Huo Qi Lang would have loved to make him try on those garments one by one. While helping him dress, she sighed: “When learning martial arts at the sect, only the top three dared wear light colors. Otherwise, after getting beaten all day, you’d still have to scrub bloody clothes – truly troublesome.”
Li Yuanying was silent for a moment, then asked: “Were the scars on your face also left from martial training?”
Huo Qi Lang was startled and smiled bitterly: “Not those – some were self-inflicted.”
She didn’t continue explaining, and Li Yuanying didn’t pursue further.
When Huo Qi Lang first came to the royal mansion, she had pilfered a discarded undergarment he’d worn from the fabric storeroom, alternating it with her own clothes. Li Yuanying had seen it several times during their “intimate encounters,” but never mentioned it.
Delicate silk fabrics like thin gauze would fade after washing a few times, and her rough hands when scrubbing had completely faded the moon-white color to plain white, the fabric long since losing its original luster. With Li Yuanying’s numerous garments, he probably couldn’t recognize such a faded old garment as once having belonged to him.
Huo Qi Lang said: “I still have a padded jacket pawned at a Chang’an pawnshop. I probably can’t make it back to redeem it this winter – when it expires unredeemed, it’ll be sold off. What a pity.”
Li Yuanying frowned: “Are you short of money to this extent?”
Huo Qi Lang laughed: “That’s how poor people get through winter – only one winter garment, pawned for emergency money when it’s hot, then scrambling for money to redeem it when the cold becomes unbearable. Not like the royal mansion’s luxury where even servants get new jackets every year.”
Li Yuanying’s mind immediately flooded with thoughts about hygiene issues: how to clean clothes with only one garment, strangers randomly wearing things left at pawnshops, and other hair-raising sanitation problems. He opened his mouth several times to ask, but ultimately didn’t want to know the truth and closed his mouth, pretending he’d never heard.
After putting on the inner garments, Li Yuanying asked her to bring his outer robe and jade belt. Huo Qi asked: “The Great King didn’t sleep well last night – won’t you rest a bit more?”
“Tomorrow there’s a ceremony. I need to go out to Minzhong Temple to burn incense, so I must prepare ritual offerings starting today.”
“Ceremony for whom?”
Li Yuanying glanced down at the red clothes on his body and said: “My mother.”
Huo Qi Lang brought his outer robe and asked puzzledly: “Death anniversary? I remember it was quite hot when the Noble Consort died?”
Though it was seven years ago, Consort Xue’s unparalleled favor while alive, her devastating beauty, and the tragic death of such a peerless beauty remained unforgettable to Chang’an’s people.
Li Yuanying said: “Tomorrow is the day she was buried in the imperial mausoleum. The death anniversary is May 19th.”
Common people’s funeral rites lasted only seven days, but imperial nobility took much longer. According to ritual records: “The Son of Heaven lies in state for seven days and is buried after seven months; feudal lords lie in state for five days and are buried after five months.” Li Yuanying still remembered a devastatingly sorrowful elegiac couplet sent by a certain royal clan member before his mother’s burial:
“Brilliant flowers suddenly ended in May’s fifth month,
Fated leaves easily fell in autumn’s single season.”
She died from difficult childbirth hemorrhaging in mid-May, her coffin remained in the palace until autumn October of the same year, posthumously honored with the title “Benevolent and Compassionate Empress,” and solemnly buried in the imperial mausoleum. This process followed normal funeral rites arrangements. In comparison, Princess Wanshou’s funeral seemed extremely abnormal.
According to news from Chang’an at the time, Bao Zhu “suddenly died” on May 14th, and just five days later was hastily buried in an abandoned princely tomb in the mountains south of Zhongnan. In other words, the day Bao Zhu was buried alive coincided exactly with mother Consort Xue’s death date.
Could there be such coincidence in the world? Or was it deliberately arranged? Li Yuanying didn’t believe it was mere chance.
After putting on the outer robe, the two stood face to face at equal eye level. Huo Qi Lang encircled his waist with both hands, fastening the jade belt while casually asking: “Must this incense be burned at an outside temple?”
Li Yuanying countered: “Why? It doesn’t take long by carriage either.”
Huo Qi Lang said: “I suspect some conflict is brewing in Youzhou. The Great King should avoid going out recently.” She then related the suspicious behavior of those soldiers she’d seen at the gambling den the previous night.
This news immediately caught Li Yuanying’s attention: “How certain are you?”
Huo Qi Lang said: “About seventy to eighty percent. The Great King’s personal guards all come from wealthy families with high military pay – they’re unfamiliar with lower-ranking soldiers’ hardships. Their ‘live for today, worry about tomorrow later’ behavior definitely means trouble ahead.”
Li Yuanying pressed: “How were their accents? Could you distinguish which unit they belonged to?”
Huo Qi Lang shrugged: “I’m not from Youzhou – being able to understand their dialect is already good enough. Besides, people going to underground gambling dens deliberately hide their identities to avoid trouble – everyone wore civilian clothes.”
Li Yuanying pondered silently.
With Youzhou Garrison’s martial demonstration with neighboring countries approaching, the city housed not only Military Governor Liu Kun’s personal guards and elite troops, but also small numbers of state soldiers brought by prefects from Ji, Gui, Tan, Yi, Ding and other states, plus foreign envoys from Khitan and Xi. Neither Huo Qi Lang nor Yuwen Rang were locals, unable to distinguish accent differences between people from these various states, thus couldn’t identify specific origins.
He asked if she’d noticed any other suspicious activities. Huo Qi Lang mentioned seeing a round-faced man with a fake beard at the tavern who looked somewhat familiar. Li Yuanying didn’t take it seriously, saying: “Sounds like a eunuch’s appearance – probably a subordinate of the military supervisor, wearing a fake beard to conceal identity, sneaking out to drink like you.”
Huo Qi Lang smiled: “Since the Great King cares about these matters, I can continue secretly investigating in the districts, though you’ll need to cover wine and gambling expenses.”
Li Yuanying sneered: “Your distinctive appearance makes you almost unforgettable – no one is less suitable as a spy than you.”
He wouldn’t let go of the gambling den soldiers’ lead, sending others to quietly investigate in the city.
Early the next morning, Li Yuanying changed into formal ceremonial dress, adorned with a jade-handled sword and double jade pendants. After worshipping his mother at home, he went to Minzhong Temple to burn incense and pray for her. This was his first outing since Prince Shao’s serious illness. Though he could only ride in a carriage rather than on horseback, everyone in the royal mansion was overjoyed, spreading word that their master’s precious health had recovered.
Originally the mansion had prepared both coffin and funeral tent, but who would have thought he could turn danger into safety – truly showing that good people receive heaven’s protection. Thinking of this, rumors of crows being auspicious birds overshadowed claims of them being ill omens.
Huo Qi Lang was originally supposed to accompany as guard but was refused. Li Yuanying said he had other business after burning incense. If she wanted to go out wandering, she could arrange it herself but must bring others along.
Yuwen Rang, having survived his ordeal, refused to accompany again at all costs. This time the Xu Lai and Xu Xing brothers took the assignment – apparently planning a rotation system where when one got drunk, the other would take over.
Seeing these brothers’ thick eyebrows, big eyes, and square faces, Huo Qi Lang felt uninterested, declined politely, and returned to the quarters to catch up on sleep.
By evening the carriage convoy still hadn’t returned. It turned out that after leaving Minzhong Temple, Prince Shao had conveniently gone to nearby Yandu Ward’s outer residence and stayed overnight there. This was human nature – with slight health improvement, he wanted to see his beloved concubine without delay.
Only then did Huo Qi Lang understand why she wasn’t brought along, regretting missing the chance to see the legendary Lady Jing.
After playing leaf cards with colleagues all evening (no gambling allowed), Huo Qi Lang was bored. When lights-out time came, everyone had to abandon their cards and sleep. She’d long grown tired of such strict military discipline, thinking that if not for coveting the world’s greatest beauty, she wouldn’t obediently follow orders.
After another night, around noon, a middle-aged matron came from the inner residence – Matron Xu, Consort Cui’s personal attendant, wanting someone strong to help move heavy items in the western courtyard. The male guards couldn’t enter the inner residence. Matron Xu’s gaze fell directly on Huo Qi Lang, naturally assigning her this task.
Huo Qi Lang didn’t mind exerting effort and was even happier hearing she’d go to the western courtyard where the princess consort lived.
Li Yuanying had once casually warned: “If you don’t want regrets, stay away from Yandu Ward.”
Any normal person would understand the threatening implications in the prince’s words, but this brocade-robed young lord had literally grown up amid various death threats – without a blade at her throat, she was completely unconcerned.
Upon hearing those words, Huo Qi Lang’s first reaction was: This couple truly has no affection, so he only warns against contacting his beloved concubine while not minding about the princess consort’s side. That meant she could freely visit.
Huo Qi Lang thought: He goes to find his little wife while I comfort his big wife – what arrangement could be more harmonious and perfect than this?
She immediately followed Matron Xu cheerfully toward the inner residence.
Author’s Note:
Due to Wu Zetian’s and Empress Wei’s actions, the mid-to-late Tang dynasty rarely crowned living consorts as empress. Even the most favored would only be made noble consort, receiving posthumous empress titles only after death. The emperors were traumatized by Wu and Wei’s precedents.