The next day was the fifteenth day of the third month — the day Xie Yuzhang and Li Gu had agreed upon for her to go pay her respects to Li Zhenzhen in the palace. Xie Yuzhang woke in the morning and stared at the canopy of her bed for a very long time, but in the end resigned herself and got up.

After washing and grooming, a maidservant brought her clothing.

“Not this one,” Xie Yuzhang said. “Something simpler. And keep the hairstyle simple too.”

Before, she had trusted Li Gu’s character and, with the protection of his backing, had felt she could afford to be a little bold — letting those who secretly hoped to see her fallen and wretched be disappointed.

What had happened yesterday had frightened her.

No matter how good Li Gu’s character was, he was still a man. Everything he felt for her — the sympathy, the tenderness, the protection — was built on a man’s desire for a woman.

He had always wanted her. He had only ever been restraining himself.

Xie Yuzhang simply couldn’t understand it. In her previous life, they had never crossed paths, and Li Gu would have had even less psychological resistance to taking her. Yet he hadn’t. In this life, she had earned his tenderness and respect — which should by rights have made things safer and more stable. So why had Li Gu become less able to hold back? What had gone wrong?

She turned it over and over in her mind, and could only suspect that Li Zhenzhen’s formula for “Spring’s Embrace” had been wrong — the potency far too strong.

She did not send word to Li Weifeng’s household for the customary escort. Today she went out alone with her guards, riding slowly and at a leisurely pace, until at last she arrived at the palace gates.

She entered the palace, thinking she would need to have a proper talk with Li Zhenzhen today. What had happened yesterday was too infuriating — it must never happen again. If it came to it, she would stage some kind of dramatic display of self-inflicted injury in front of Li Zhenzhen to give her a proper scare.

But as soon as she entered the palace and turned toward the rear palace, she was intercepted halfway by Liang Chen, Fuchun’s adopted son: “His Majesty says that should the Princess arrive, he asks her to wait for him at Zichen Hall.”

Xie Yuzhang very much did not want to see Li Gu. Her feet seemed to stick to the ground. “I still need to go and pay my respects to the Imperial Noble Consort.”

But Liang Chen said, “Your Highness need not go. The Imperial Noble Consort fell ill yesterday from overexertion and is confined to her chambers for a month.”

Xie Yuzhang was silent.

Li Zhenzhen had been placed under house restriction for a month.

Xie Yuzhang sighed.

What had Li Zhenzhen done? She had surveilled the Emperor’s movements, dismissed the Emperor’s personal attendants without authorization, and subjected the Emperor to an arousing incense. In the era of the former Zhao dynasty, she would not have lived to see this day. A cup of poisoned wine or three feet of white silk would have seen to that. And things might have gone even worse — she likely would have been subjected to a thorough interrogation to determine whether there were other plots against the Emperor, or whether someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. Such questioning could strip away half one’s life before it was done, making the poisoned wine and white silk seem almost merciful by comparison.

Yet under Li Gu, the punishment was only house restriction for a month. He had even shielded her from embarrassment, telling the outside world she had fallen ill from exhaustion.

In truth, Xie Yuzhang had already guessed this yesterday. Li Zhenzhen had dared to do such things because she had someone to rely on — and that reliance was unlikely to put her in any real danger. Li Zhenzhen and she were alike in that way: the audacity of both came from knowing they had support.

Still, the lightness of the punishment made Xie Yuzhang sigh again — a fresh reminder of how deeply Li Gu cherished Li Zhenzhen.

She even felt a flash of envy toward her.

Li Ming’s great debt of grace to Li Gu would sustain Li Zhenzhen for a lifetime. She could do as she pleased — she could scheme, she could stir things up — and she’d be fine! Not becoming Empress would not kill her!

Truly, the one who is full cannot know the hunger of the one who starves.

She sighed, then asked, “With the Imperial Noble Consort ill, who is managing matters within the palace?”

Liang Chen replied, “Noble Consort Xian Cui is acting in her stead.”

Noble Consort Xian Cui had given birth to the First Prince, and Li Gu was extremely fond of this son — this was entirely within reason.

Xie Yuzhang resigned herself and followed Liang Chen to Zichen Hall. Along the way she asked, “Where is Fuchun?”

Liang Chen’s head drooped slightly. “My adoptive father received forty strokes of the rod — it is uncertain whether he will pull through.”

Frankly speaking, it was satisfying to hear. Fuchun was the person closest to Li Gu. How had he gone missing yesterday? To say he had no part in it — Xie Yuzhang did not believe it for a moment.

This was simply how the world worked. No one lived and acted according to your wishes. Everyone had their own desires, their own interests driving them in their own direction. You could not control anyone.

The human heart was a difficult, treacherous thing.

Xie Yuzhang reached into her front and pulled out a small embroidered pouch, pressing it into Liang Chen’s hand. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Liang Chen quickly pocketed it, and said in a low voice, “One elderly palace woman and one young maidservant from the Imperial Noble Consort’s attendants were flogged to death yesterday.”

Xie Yuzhang nodded.

The Emperor’s fury had to be borne by someone. And Li Zhenzhen ought to learn to see her sworn brother as an Emperor, not just as a younger brother.

Liang Chen kept his head lowered. “Your Highness… my adoptive father…”

Xie Yuzhang said, “He deserved to receive this lesson.”

Liang Chen’s eyes filled with tears. He was, at heart, a loyal and devoted young man.

Xie Yuzhang said, “I understand.”

Liang Chen wiped his tears, bowing repeatedly.

Xie Yuzhang arrived at Zichen Hall and went directly to the rear chamber to wait, as usual.

Liang Chen served her tea and refreshments. She had a sweet tooth, and Fuchun knew it — so whenever she came, the offerings had always been sweet beverages. Today, however, she was kept waiting for an unusually long time. She drank an entire pot of tea, needed to excuse herself twice, and by the time Liang Chen brought a second pot, Li Gu finally appeared.

Seeing his tall, upright figure, Xie Yuzhang immediately climbed down from the couch and curtsied respectfully. “This subject greets Your Majesty.”

Li Gu walked to stand before her, and said with flat indifference, “So you did come.”

Xie Yuzhang bowed her head respectfully. “Your Majesty was the one who personally established the custom of Yongning paying visits at the first and fifteenth of the month. How could Yongning dare not come? Even if heaven itself were to fall, Yongning would still come.”

Li Gu looked at her carrying on like this, and felt a wave of irritation rise up in him. He flicked his robe hem and sat down on the couch. “Tea.”

Xie Yuzhang obediently went to pick up the pot. Li Gu frowned, reached out a hand, and pressed it over hers.

“Xie Yuzhang.” He looked at her and said, “I do not like sweet things. You are this clever — I do not believe you haven’t noticed.”

Xie Yuzhang felt a pang of guilt, and said with an awkward little smile, “I am exceedingly fond of sweet things, and so I naturally assume everyone else must be too.”

She tried to pull her hand away. It didn’t move. She looked up — and her heart gave a lurch.

Li Gu’s pupils were dark and gleaming, fixed directly on her. This was not his usual blank impassivity — the “unmoved before a crumbling mountain” expression he typically wore. His face carried a clear and visible emotion.

Xie Yuzhang had no choice but to call out, “Liang Chen, please bring tea for His Majesty.”

Liang Chen came with a tray — only the Emperor’s hand was still holding the Princess’s hand. He stood before the couch and did not dare move.

Li Gu finally released her hand. Liang Chen carefully placed the teapot on the small table beside the couch.

Li Gu said, “Out.”

Xie Yuzhang’s reflexes kicked in and she started to rise, then saw Liang Chen vanish without a sound, and only then remembered the order hadn’t been for her.

But that instinctive movement of hers made Li Gu even more irritated. He looked over her clothing again — today’s contrasted so sharply with yesterday’s it was as if she were in everyday house clothes, her hairstyle and hairpins also plain, her face bare of powder or rouge. Clean and bright.

He said nothing.

Xie Yuzhang genuinely didn’t know what had made him angrier. She carefully poured his tea, measured out a little salt, looked at him, then added a touch more, before placing the cup before him.

Li Gu picked it up and drank. He furrowed his brow slightly.

Too much salt, Xie Yuzhang thought.

But Li Gu finished it anyway. He set down the cup. “I’ve already discussed it with the ministers and we’ve decided to rebuild Chengjing Academy. I will personally go to invite people to join. You rendered a service in recommending candidates — what reward do you want?”

Xie Yuzhang straightened and said, “How could your subject claim any credit — all of this is due to Your Majesty’s care for the welfare of all under heaven…”

Li Gu said, “Speak plainly.”

Xie Yuzhang stopped.

Li Gu said, “From now on, in my presence — speak plainly and act honestly. No more of this performing and posturing.”

Xie Yuzhang was at a loss for quite some time, then said, “If Your Majesty says that, Yuzhang doesn’t know how to speak or what to do anymore.”

Li Gu said with cool sarcasm, “Yesterday you could still call me ‘General’ well enough — and today you don’t know how to talk?”

Xie Yuzhang was quiet for a moment, then said, “Before Yusili, I had grown accustomed to acting young and willful; before Wuwei, I played the image of cold and lofty nobility; before Tujitang and Dielitele, I was composed and inviolable. All of these I could manage. With Your Majesty, I had also managed well enough, originally. But now Your Majesty makes this demand of your subject — and your subject finds herself lost and without bearings, and truly does not know how to speak with Your Majesty.”

Hearing it laid out one by one, Li Gu’s lips pressed tight, and something unutterably painful moved through his chest. At last the anger subsided.

He said, “Bringing you back, promising you protection — was precisely so you would never have to endure this kind of hardship again. That you still carry on this way means I have failed.”

“That is not so,” Xie Yuzhang said. “It is because I am greedy. I do not wish to serve Your Majesty as a woman serves a man, and yet I fear that if too much time passes, Your Majesty might grow distant from me and forget me. I still need to find ways to make Your Majesty notice me — to keep Your Majesty remembering me and continuing to take pity on me, willing to protect me. Originally… Your Majesty had agreed to this.”

Between any two people, there was a point of balance — and between a man and a woman, between an Emperor and a subject, matters were already more complicated than between ordinary people. When both aspects were joined in one relationship, the complexity multiplied, and the difficulty of maintaining it grew accordingly.

But what Xie Yuzhang excelled at most was knowing precisely where to draw the line.

She had always understood that the foundation of all Li Gu’s kindness toward her was rooted in “man and woman.” She did not hesitate to show him the side of herself that was a woman, drawing on his desire for her to enjoy his protection.

On this point, through several conversations, the two of them had already reached a mutual understanding and an unspoken accord. Xie Yuzhang had calibrated the boundaries with perfect ease.

But Li Zhenzhen had gone and shattered that balance.

What had unfolded yesterday had nearly gone beyond all recovery. And now, plainly, there was no going back to how things had been before. Both Xie Yuzhang and Li Gu understood this.

Both fell into silence.

“Yuzhang.” Li Gu finally spoke. “Come be by my side.”

“Your Majesty, please don’t say that.” Xie Yuzhang said. “Your Majesty knows full well I am unwilling.”

Li Gu looked at her.

Xie Yuzhang sighed. “Your Majesty has two sons — whom does Your Majesty intend to name Crown Prince? Your Majesty has three Noble Consorts — whom does Your Majesty intend to name Empress? Your rear palace is destined to see turmoil in the future. All three Noble Consorts and three lesser consorts have backgrounds. What is my background? The former dynasty’s imperial family.”

Li Gu said, “I will not let you suffer.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “And what does Your Majesty believe to be the prerequisite for my not suffering? Naturally, Your Majesty’s tenderness and favor. But Your Majesty — the Imperial Noble Consort lost her father, her husband, and her brother all at once. Does Your Majesty not pity her?”

“The two Noble Consorts are daughters of distinguished families — they became something worse than proper wives, something no ritual propriety sanctions. And now, what is so-called the honor of four concubines? It is still being a concubine. To be demoted from wife to concubine — does Your Majesty not pity them?”

“The three lesser consorts simply came late, when Your Majesty was already powerful, and from the very beginning they were concubines. Does Your Majesty not pity them?”

“Is there a woman among them who was not cherished and raised with love in her family home? Is there a single one who is not a good woman? Is there one who is not deserving of pity? If Your Majesty were to spare me suffering, would that not come at the cost of making them suffer? They have accompanied Your Majesty for years, borne Your Majesty’s children — can Your Majesty say to my face, right now, that you feel no pity for them? If you can say it, I will enter the palace this very moment.”

“Your Majesty — can you say those words?”