Seeing how grateful the man was over getting a woman, Yuwen Jie found it rather absurd — but after thinking it over, he did find something odd.
“Hua… Jinghua.”
“Ah?” Being called by name by the Emperor for the first time, Hua Chun jumped in fright and hurriedly turned to look at him. “Second Brother, what are your orders?”
“How old are you this year?”
Why ask this? Hua Chun was bewildered, but answered honestly all the same: “Past twenty.”
A man of that age should ordinarily already be married. Yuwen Jie raised an eyebrow. He Chang’an hadn’t married because his parents were gone and no one pressed him to — but Hua Jinghua was the eldest son of the Hua family. How could he still be unmarried?
He glanced down again at her pale, fair neck, and the Emperor narrowed his eyes, feeling that something was not quite right. After thinking for a long while, he still asked:
“Do you like women?”
Hua Chun: “……”
Even He Chang’an was startled by the question, looking at the Emperor with a mixture of laughter and exasperation. “There you go again — first you suspected me of having a taste for cut sleeves, and now you suspect Jinghua too. In your eyes, is every other man simply not quite normal?”
“That’s not it.” Yuwen Jie frowned. “Don’t you think he’s strange?”
Her heart sank; Hua Chun’s very breath seemed to stop from fright, and she stared at him blankly.
“Already come of age, and still unmarried — and lately he’s always been rather effeminate…” His eyes swept up and down over Hua Jinghua. “Could it be that…”
Her heart pounded hard and fast; Hua Chun felt certain her face had gone pale, and quickly lowered her head to try to hide it.
Though she was still new here and unfamiliar with many of the rules, from the matter of the courtyard repairs alone she could tell that deceiving the Emperor was a grave crime — one wrong word and the whole family could be exiled. If anyone found out she’d disguised herself as a man and infiltrated the court to become Prime Minister, wouldn’t her entire clan be executed?
If it were truly exposed, then even if the Emperor were her elder brother — even if he were her own grandfather — it wouldn’t matter. Execution was still execution. The charge was too severe; she could not bear it.
So, before the Emperor could go on guessing, Hua Chun gritted her teeth and cut him off: “Second Brother has guessed wrong. Jinghua has never married simply because he hasn’t met the right person — he doesn’t wish to waste some young lady’s time, that’s all.”
“Oh?” Yuwen Jie looked at him deeply. “I heard that Grand Tutor Tang and Li Zhongtang both intended to marry their daughters to you. Neither of the two young ladies suited you?”
Cold sweat soaked her back. Hua Chun, expression grave, cupped her hands in salute: “Both young ladies are well-read and gracious, but they simply aren’t fated to be with Jinghua, so…”
Fate really was a wonderful excuse. In truth it was simply that she didn’t like them, that something about them didn’t suit her — but say the word “fate,” say it was ordained by heaven, and no one could force the matter.
She wondered if the Old Man in Heaven, busy every day deciding the mismatched fates of several billion people, ever got tired.
Hearing this, the Emperor clearly still wasn’t convinced. He looked him over once more and said, “It’s understandable enough not to have married. But how is it that I hear you don’t have a single woman by your side, apart from a maid who tends to your daily needs?”
Even someone as abstinent as He Chang’an would still visit the pleasure quarters now and then. Watching how unpracticed Hua Jinghua seemed, he must never have gone even once — so how, as a man, did he see to his ordinary bodily needs?
Hua Chun laughed awkwardly. “It’s not about how many women — it’s about whether she’s considerate. Besides, I truly did take a liking to Miss Qing Niao today. I’m bringing her back to the residence — perhaps it will turn into a good match.”
Hearing this, Qing Niao looked at her with a touched expression, then leaned naturally into her embrace.
Her body went rigid. Hua Chun looked down at her, her face turning green. The girl was leaning right against her chest — though she was bound tightly, she was still terrified Qing Niao might suddenly blurt out something like, “My lord’s chest muscles are so well-developed.”
Then she really would go in standing and come out lying flat.
She watched Qing Niao nervously for a long while, but the girl only raised her head with a shy smile, her face flushed, saying nothing.
Slightly dazed, Hua Chun looked at her and thought she resembled her best friend even more. Qin Niao back home had also been the pleasant, easy-on-the-eyes type — a gentle little princess who always leaned against her whenever they met, giving off that same small-bird-nestled-against-a-tree feeling.
That’s right — Qin Niao was the little bird, and she was the sturdy old tree.
Her fondness for this girl kept bubbling up inside her, and Hua Chun couldn’t help but shiver, frowning as she wondered — could she really have some leaning toward women after all? They’d only just met — why did this little girl already feel so comfortable to be around?
This whole tangle of thoughts turned into a meaningful, lingering gaze between them, which to He Chang’an and Yuwen Jie looked every bit like a couple deeply smitten with each other.
So the Emperor swallowed back the rest of his doubts, and turned to glance at the woman seated beside him.
He didn’t know why, but lately he seemed to have little taste for this kind of delicate, coquettish woman — soft and utterly without any spark. Better to pick someone bold enough to stand up to him, someone more interesting, to bring into the palace. The back palace had been rather empty of late, anyway.
With that thought, the Emperor rose to his feet. “It grows late. Let us return to the palace.”
Seeing the Emperor looking somewhat listless, He Chang’an nodded along.
As it turned out, only Hua Jinghua had gained anything from this outing. Leading Qing Niao out of the Tianxiang Pavilion, Hua Chun was in high spirits, thanking He Chang’an again and again.
“It’s nothing, nothing at all.” He Chang’an glanced at Qing Niao. “I only hope this girl serves you well.”
Qing Niao answered softly, following obediently behind Hua Chun.
Yuwen Jie swept a glance over the two of them, brow furrowing slightly. “Chang’an, come back with me. Jinghua, make your own way home.”
“Yes.” Hua Chun cupped her hands in salute, thinking nothing more of it — after all, she had a maid with her; she could hardly follow him into the palace.
He Chang’an boarded the carriage with the Emperor, and it soon set off.
“Do you really not think Hua Jinghua is strange?” After a while, the Emperor asked again.
Rubbing his chin, He Chang’an said, “What do you mean by strange? In what way?”
“Too soft. Milky and coddled.” Yuwen Jie wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“Huh?” He Chang’an looked at him in some disbelief. “Why would you say that? Jinghua is a scholar — naturally he can’t compare to Your Majesty’s martial bearing, and naturally his build is slighter too. But at the very least you could call him refined and cultured. Why would you call him… milky?”
The Emperor pressed his lips together.
Surely he couldn’t say that the other night, crouched on the roof beam, he’d caught a whiff of milk on him. That would just get him branded a pervert.
Still, even setting that aside, he couldn’t help but wonder — had Hua Jinghua perhaps been possessed by some female ghost lately?
After brooding a while, the Emperor said, “Have someone find a high monk to come to the palace and expound on Buddhist teachings for us.”
“Very well.” Though he had no idea what this was about, He Chang’an agreed all the same.
This time upon leaving the palace, word was “accidentally” leaked to a few of the Imperial Guards, and sure enough, an assassination attempt followed — but this time the assassins failed to escape, and the guards swept them all up.
From the assassination at Zichen Hall, some clues could finally be traced from this — this was the very purpose for which the Emperor and the Marquis Gongyu had set out, using themselves as bait, risking their own persons.
With the matter settled, the Emperor felt noticeably lighter, and so began preparing to devote himself wholeheartedly to making things difficult for Hua Jinghua once more.
Hua Chun could feel it. Bringing Qing Niao back to the Hua residence, it was only while changing that she discovered her inner robes were entirely soaked through with sweat.
“What’s the story with that girl?” Madam Wan came to the courtyard the moment she heard the news. “Where did she come from?”
Hua Chun said gravely, “That is a woman the Marquis Gongyu gave to me.”
“Ah?” Madam Wan froze, then panicked. “This… what… whatever will we do?”
The whole reason she had kept stopping her husband from arranging a marriage for Jinghua was her fear that the truth would come out. Jinghua was, after all, a daughter — how could she possibly marry a woman home? If whoever she married discovered the secret, what would become of the Hua family?
“Mother, don’t panic yet.” Seeing how anxious she was, Hua Chun quickly tried to comfort her. “Your son is thinking of a way.”
“What way could there possibly be?” said Madam Wan. “This is someone the Marquis Gongyu gave you — you can hardly refuse her.”
“Indeed I can’t refuse her.” Hua Chun nodded. “So why not simply marry her properly, as principal wife? What do you think?”
What? Madam Wan was stunned, staring blankly at her.
Wasn’t that just asking to die?
“The Emperor has already begun to suspect me,” Hua Chun said with a shrug. “Aside from marrying at once, there’s no other way.”
Madam Wan went pale, trembled for a moment, then took her hand and burst into tears again.
Pin Tan hurried outside to keep watch at the door.
“It’s your mother’s fault!” Madam Wan sobbed. “If not for my moment of rashness back then, fighting for favor, you wouldn’t have had to spend your whole life as a man, always living on edge like this.”
Back in those days, the rivalry for favor in the Hua family’s inner quarters had been fierce as a world war. Wan Liufang, born of humble origin, had bribed the midwife so that she and her child could live a life above others, and forced through the lie that the baby girl was a boy.
The safer route, really, would have been to simply buy a baby boy to swap in — but Madam Wan couldn’t bear to part with her, telling herself she’d hide it one day at a time, and at least enjoy a few good days in the meantime.
She never imagined the deception would stretch on for twenty years, and that her child would turn out so accomplished — placing first in the imperial examinations, entering the court as Prime Minister, bringing glory to the family.
Riding a tiger, unable to dismount — that was truly the situation now!
The more Madam Wan thought about it, the more grief-stricken she became, weeping in a mess of tears.
Hua Chun sighed and reached out to pat her back. “Everything will work out. The most urgent matter now is dealing with the Emperor, so I’ll go speak with that young lady in a moment, and arrange to marry her as my wife.”
Easy to say — but the girl was as lovely as a flower; would she really be willing to marry into a lifelong empty marriage? Who would want that? Madam Wan shook her head repeatedly — it was too great a risk.
Rather than wait for disaster to fall on their heads, she thought it better to confess everything to her husband directly, and then the two of them, mother and child, could simply pack up and flee.
Hua Chun, naturally, did not agree with this idea. Wasn’t this show all about a young Prime Minister? If they fled right at the start, how was the plot supposed to develop from here? If the development went poorly, this show might just get cancelled — and who knew what fate would befall the people in it?
So she said, “Get the wedding preparations ready, Mother — please help speak to Father about it. I still need to go into the palace once more, to clear away the Emperor’s suspicions completely, or else he’ll keep watching me without letting up.”
Those eyes of Yuwen Jie’s were terrifying enough as it was — if he ever set his mind specifically to observing whether she was male or female, exposure was only a matter of time.