With the Emperor personally teaching her, Jiang Lingye learned quickly. The Emperor would hold her hand, patiently teaching her to write stroke by stroke. The Emperor knew many calligraphy styles, with his specialty being the Feibai style. He asked her: “Which style do you want to learn?”
Jiang Lingye thought for a moment and said, “Small regular script.”
The Emperor smiled: “We thought you would ask us to teach you Feibai.”
Jiang Lingye said, “Feibai is beautiful, but much harder to learn than small regular script. Since this concubine doesn’t know how to write a single character yet, naturally, I should learn the simplest style first.”
The Emperor held her hand and said, “You are indeed clever.”
He taught her to write small, regular script stroke by stroke. Jiang Lingye studied diligently, forgetting to eat and sleep. Soon, she could recognize characters and began writing small, regular script quite well.
After learning to read, Jiang Lingye greatly enjoyed books. The Emperor generously lent her his collection. Initially, some books had difficult text that Jiang Lingye couldn’t understand. The Emperor would hold her in his arms, explaining character by character. Nestled in his embrace, she would occasionally ask questions, which he patiently answered.
One day in Fengyang Pavilion, in this familiar scene, the Emperor was explaining the passage “What others can do once, I will do a hundred times; what others can do ten times, I will do a thousand times. If one can follow this path, even the foolish will become wise, even the weak will become strong.” He suddenly laughed. Puzzled, Jiang Lingye asked: “What makes Your Majesty laugh?”
The Emperor said: “Outside, they call me a befuddled ruler and you a bewitching consort. They would never imagine that in Fengyang Pavilion, the befuddled ruler is teaching the bewitching consort.”
Jiang Lingye’s face reddened slightly. She gently nuzzled the Emperor’s chest, murmuring: “Your Majesty is teasing this concubine again.”
The Emperor stroked her hair and smiled: “With a beauty in our arms, if we only acted like a proper teacher, wouldn’t that be dull?”
Jiang Lingye said, “Does teasing this concubine amuse Your Majesty?”
The Emperor’s lips curled in a smile, but his dark eyes were serious: “It’s not that teasing the Imperial Concubine is amusing, but that the Imperial Concubine herself is interesting.”
Jiang Lingye was nestled in his embrace, looking up at him with a smile. But his eyes were as deep as pools, gazing directly at her. Jiang Lingye hurriedly averted her gaze and said softly: “What’s interesting about this concubine?”
“The Imperial Concubine is interesting in every way,” the Emperor said. “A peony growing properly is certainly beautiful, but not as interesting as watching it struggle to bloom.”
Hearing this, Jiang Lingye couldn’t help but smile: “So in Your Majesty’s heart, this concubine is a peony?”
“What else?”
Jiang Lingye pressed her lips together with a subtle smile. During their time together, she was no longer as careful with her words as she had been at the beginning. She could see that this man not only appreciated her ambition but also enjoyed her occasional boldness. She said: “This concubine thought she was merely a weed in Your Majesty’s heart.”
The Emperor was momentarily taken aback before he also smiled: “If you are a weed, then what am I?”
Jiang Lingye thought for a moment and said: “Your Majesty is the Emperor of the Great Zhou, whom all people depend on. Your Majesty is like a pillar.”
“A pillar?” The Emperor tasted these words. “Indeed, a pillar standing alone is very solitary. With weeds for company, the pillar is no longer alone.”
This sudden comment left Jiang Lingye unsure of his intentions. Her heart pounded, whether from her inability to understand the Emperor’s words or from hearing him say, “With weeds for company, the pillar is no longer alone.”
She lowered her head and, after a moment, said: “How could a pillar at the center of ten thousand people be lonely?”
The Emperor shook his head and smiled: “Being at the center of ten thousand people, one is still human. As humans, we have seven emotions and six desires. To sever emotions and desires—that is for monks.”
His hand caressed Jiang Lingye’s slender waist. After a pause, he continued: “We cannot be a monk. So sometimes, we feel lonely. We wish for a kindred spirit to accompany us along this thousand-mile imperial path.”
He had never said such things to Jiang Lingye before. This profoundly calculating Emperor had never shown vulnerability before her, leading Jiang Lingye to believe he was heartless, invincible, and would never stay for any woman.
When the Emperor spoke of wanting a kindred spirit to accompany him on the imperial path, he looked steadily at her, his eyes deep and dark. Jiang Lingye opened her mouth but quickly averted her gaze in confusion, her heart beating violently. For all her eloquence and coquettishness with the Emperor moments before, she now couldn’t utter a single word.
Seeing her cheeks flush red, as beautiful as spring peach blossoms, the Emperor was moved. He bent down and gently kissed her lips. Just as Jiang Lingye thought he would again ask for “payment,” he stopped. With a smile, he picked up the book: “Let Us explain the meaning of ‘What others can do once, I will do a hundred times; what others can do ten times, I will do a thousand times. If one can follow this path, even the foolish will become wise, even the weak will become strong.”
“It means that for tasks others complete with one part effort, you should use a hundred parts. For tasks others complete with a ten-part effort, you should use a thousand parts. If you can follow this method, even the foolish will become wise, even the weak will become strong.”
In Fengyang Pavilion, the Emperor continued his role as teacher, but his student’s heart was in turmoil.
Although Jiang Lingye’s heart was momentarily unsettled by the Emperor, as she said, she knew her place. Moreover, after learning to read, she had studied many historical books. From these histories, she increasingly realized how tragic the end could be for imperial consorts who gave their hearts entirely to a man. Throughout dynasties, such examples were too numerous.
She dared not trust the Emperor.
And the Emperor seemed to have forgotten what he had said to her. He reverted to being that powerful, cold, inscrutable ruler, seemingly without weaknesses. Jiang Lingye even wondered if that conversation had been her imagination.
She followed the Emperor’s teaching, putting in a hundred or a thousand times the effort. Gradually, she recognized more characters and could even understand the abstruse memorials submitted by officials. The Emperor never concealed these from her; he would even discuss them with her. Jiang Lingye would boldly offer her opinions, beginning to display her talent for political affairs. Some of her suggestions even earned the Emperor’s approval.
She fulfilled the promise she made to the Emperor in the Hibiscus Forest, becoming someone useful to him.
In the Emperor’s harem, because of Empress Dowager Xue’s presence, the struggles were fierce. Women from powerful families—the Zheng clan of Xingyang, the Xue clan of Hedong, the Wang clan of Langya—entered the palace one after another. Each had a powerful family behind her, and each family hoped their bloodline would occupy the imperial throne, replacing the Cui clan of Boling as the first among the great houses. Under these circumstances, a humble merchant’s daughter winning the Emperor’s favor puzzled all these powerful families.
What right did she have?
A tide of attacks surged forth, both overt and covert. Jiang Lingye did not ask the Emperor for help. If she couldn’t survive in the imperial harem, she couldn’t convince the Emperor that she was useful.
The servants of Fengyang Pavilion were devoted to Jiang Lingye. She also recruited servants from other consorts’ chambers to provide her with information. She knew that Empress Zheng, Consort Xian, and Consort De fought like bitter enemies. Empress Zheng had her position, Consort Xian had the Empress Dowager, and Consort De had children. Empress Zheng guarded her position while Consort Xian and Consort De coveted it. None yielded to the others.
So, except for avoiding Consort Xian, Jiang Lingye frequently visited Empress Zheng and Consort De’s chambers to express her submission.
Jiang Lingye even personally made soup cakes for Empress Zheng and Consort De to curry favor. After being an Imperial Concubine for a year without promotion, and with her father not even being granted a marquis title, Empress Zheng and Consort De eventually concluded she had no ambition and posed no threat. They turned their attention to other consorts.
In this way, Jiang Lingye quietly survived in the imperial harem. The Emperor’s favor never waned, but almost everyone in the palace believed that this respectful and cautious Imperial Concubine would advance no further than her current position—she would have no greater fortune.
Sometimes, the Emperor would secretly take Jiang Lingye outside the palace. The handsome young Emperor and the beautiful young woman made an attractive pair. However, the Emperor didn’t go out for pleasure but had Jiang Lingye take him to Yanzu District and places where poor people gathered to hear their complaints about the Emperor and the Great Zhou.
After each visit, the Emperor would remain silent for a long time. In Zichen Hall, he said to Jiang Lingye: “Look at Zhuque Street, the eastern and western markets—how prosperous they seem. But to me, they are like oil being fried in flames. Sooner or later, will come the day when the full moon wanes.”
That day, Jiang Lingye had just accompanied the Emperor to help a beggar. The beggar’s family was poor, forcing him to sell himself into servitude. Later, when he grew old, his master drove him out. Trembling, he told the Emperor: “My son is also a servant. When he grows old, he too will be driven out by his master. Then, like me, he will live by begging. Alas, for people like us, our fate is determined from birth—there’s no chance for change.”
These words deeply moved Jiang Lingye. She gave all the money she had to the beggar, though she knew it couldn’t change his fate or his son’s.
She pressed her lips together and boldly said to the Emperor: “Your Majesty, in the Great Zhou, why are the children of officials always officials, while the children of the poor always remain poor? There is no justice in this.”
The Emperor looked at her: “Continue.”
“This concubine has been fortunate enough to rise from a merchant’s daughter to an Imperial Concubine through Your Majesty’s favor. But how many in the world are as lucky as this concubine?” Jiang Lingye thought of the history books she had read: “This concubine feels that the poor make up the majority in this world. When they increasingly see no hope for their future, they become Chen Shengs, Wu Guangs, and Zhang Jiaos. This concubine boldly suggests that the Great Zhou’s official selection system needs to change.”
After listening, the Emperor remained silent. Jiang Lingye thought she had said something wrong and was growing anxious when the Emperor said, “We have been thinking the same.”
Jiang Lingye raised her head in delight. The Emperor said, “What else? Continue.”
That day, the Emperor and Jiang Lingye spoke at length in Zichen Hall. Their ideas for reforming the Great Zhou’s official selection system were remarkably aligned. Toward the end, the Emperor brought Jiang Lingye to the imperial throne. Touching the armrest, he sighed: “If we don’t change, this throne will belong to the barbarians.”
Jiang Lingye said: “If Your Majesty wishes to change it, it can certainly be done.”
These words were not flattery but her sincere belief. Before entering Daming Palace, she never imagined that this young Emperor would one day let her lead him, step by step, through the places where Chang’an’s poor gathered, patiently listening to the people’s voices. With his ambition, resolve, intelligence, boldness, and ability to conceal his capabilities, what couldn’t he accomplish?
The Emperor smiled slightly. Sitting on the small-leaf purple sandalwood imperial throne, he asked Jiang Lingye: “Is this throne beautiful?”
Jiang Lingye didn’t quite understand why he asked this, but nodded: “Yes, it is beautiful.”
“Come, sit down.”
Jiang Lingye was shocked. She immediately knelt and kowtowed: “This concubine wouldn’t dare!”
“We command you to sit.”
Jiang Lingye trembled in fear, kowtowing and pleading: “This concubine has no such thoughts!”
The Emperor rose expressionlessly, pulled her up, and holding her hand, sat with her on the imperial throne.
Although Jiang Lingye sat beside him, her entire body trembled with fear. The Emperor held her hand and suddenly sighed: “Lingye.”
She was trembling so much that she didn’t notice he had called her “Lingye,” not “Imperial Concubine” or “Jiang Lingye.” In a daze, she asked: “What does Your Majesty command?”
“Don’t call me ‘Your Majesty,'” the Emperor paused, then said: “Call me Sanlang.”
Jiang Lingye was stunned.
“We command you to call Us Sanlang.”
After a long moment, Jiang Lingye tremblingly said through clenched teeth: “Sanlang.”
The Emperor patted her hand reassuringly and said: “Lingye, We have never trusted anyone, and you have never trusted Us.”
“Your Majesty… no…” Jiang Lingye quickly corrected herself: “Sanlang, this concubine has not…”
The Emperor shook his head: “Don’t speak. Listen to Us.”
What she wanted to say was merely to deny that she didn’t trust him, but today, he didn’t want to hear it.
He sighed: “Lingye, trust Us once, and We will trust you once. Let the two of us try.”
Jiang Lingye’s face turned pale. She stared up at the Emperor. The Emperor gently lifted her chin, suddenly smiled, then bent down and tenderly kissed her lips. When her complexion improved, he released her. He gripped her hand tightly, sitting on the imperial throne that symbolized supreme power, in Zichen Hall, the center of power. Word by word, the Emperor said: “Lingye, walk with Us on this imperial path.”