Xie Yuzhang returned to Luo Garden at the Western Hills. At the end of July, Li Gu held his summer hunt in the Western Hills.
Following the example set by Princess Yongning the previous year, several noble young women had signed up to take part in the ceremonial first hunt this year. With the princess herself away in mourning and no longer there to overshadow everyone, this was the moment for each family’s daughters to shine.
Ever since last year, young women had been racing enthusiastically down the path of “heroic grace.”
But riding in the Emperor’s first hunt was something else entirely. Watching Princess Yongning do it had looked effortless; the young women who had been drilling their horsemanship at home finally discovered what it really meant when they were thrown into the thick of it. Hundreds of riders thundered along in an awe-inspiring surge, and before anything had even really begun, more than one heart went faint just from being in the middle of it all.
And the Emperor was not one to show any indulgence toward the fairer sex. He set out at the pace of a military forced march, and even some of the young men found it difficult to keep up.
The young women fell behind one after another. One unlucky soul tumbled from her horse and nearly got trampled by the horses coming up behind. Even then, the Emperor did not pause for a single moment on her account. The Imperial Physician who was traveling with the group had someone drive her back to camp in a cart — battered, bruised, and with a thoroughly swollen face.
Li Zhenzhen and Deng Wanniang, for once, found themselves on the exact same side of an opinion.
Li Zhenzhen raised her fan to hide her expression. “These people are going to be the death of me with laughter.”
Deng Wanniang said, “Those who haven’t earned something through effort still want to have what others worked for.”
Li Zhenzhen waved her fan. “Exactly right. Ah, I haven’t seen Yongning in two months. She’s right there in the Western Hills — why don’t we go see her?”
Deng Wanniang shook her head. “She’s in mourning — she needs her peace and quiet. What would it look like to turn up at her door with all our noise and fanfare? We’d only be disturbing her for nothing.”
Li Zhenzhen said, “You have a point. Never mind.”
This time Wu Lang was stationed in the capital, and Li Weifeng had come along to the hunting grounds. He was in his element.
The next day he went to find Li Gu, and the camp guards told him: “His Majesty set out early this morning.”
“It’s not even a war,” Li Weifeng muttered. “Just a hunt — why get up so early?”
So he went off with others.
On the third day he went to find Li Gu and got nowhere. The fourth day, the same. Li Weifeng finally started to smell something suspicious.
That same day, inside Luo Garden, Li Gu was holding a white stone and working through what he had just learned about the “large knight approach.” He was still puzzling it over when Xie Yuzhang’s maid came to report: “The Marquis of Beirong has come to visit.”
Li Gu said with irritation, “How did he get here? Tell him the mistress of this house is not receiving visitors.”
The maid glanced at Xie Yuzhang.
Xie Yuzhang waved her fan. “Tell him the mistress of this house cordially invites him in.”
When Li Weifeng sauntered in, his eyes lit up. “Well, well — so our Emperor plays weiqi now, does he?”
Li Gu’s expression turned decidedly unpleasant. He had no desire to acknowledge this.
Xie Yuzhang said, “He doesn’t really play. He’s only just started learning. Seventh Brother, do sit down.”
Li Weifeng sat and asked, “How far have you gotten? Have you learned the large and small knight approaches yet? The one-point internal attachment?”
Li Gu stared. “You play weiqi?”
“Ha,” Li Weifeng said. He had been about to put his hands on his hips, then realized it was awkward sitting down, so he folded his arms across his chest instead. “Your Majesty may not know this, but when there are brothers at home, what usually happens is that the younger ones play with whatever the older ones have left behind.”
“Perfect, then.” Xie Yuzhang rose and ceded her place to Li Weifeng. “The two of you should play a match. I’ll watch and see who’s better.”
“I couldn’t do that to him,” Li Weifeng waved off. “He’s only been studying a few days — I’ve been at it for months.”
Xie Yuzhang said, “His Majesty learns fast. Give it a try.”
Since Xie Yuzhang put it that way, Li Weifeng settled into her spot. Li Gu showed no sign of backing down either.
They started playing. Men have a way of turning even casual things into contests, and given that both of them had military backgrounds, it was not long before they were locked in intense, absorbed combat — wholly immersed.
Xie Yuzhang watched for a while, then gradually the smile faded from her face.
…
…
She woke from an afternoon nap, yawned, and asked, “Where are those two?”
The maid said, “Still playing. They ate lunch right there at the board.”
“Two hopeless stone-throwers,” Xie Yuzhang said, pulling a face, “acting like they have a thousand-man army on the line.”
The maid covered a smile and said, “His Majesty was trying to win back his outer robe, but the Marquis would sooner lose his belt than give it back. So His Majesty won’t return the Marquis’s boot. They’ve each taken something from the other and neither will back down — they’re practically in their underclothes.”
By the time Xie Yuzhang came back to check on them, the distinguished Marquis of Beirong was indeed shirtless. Upon seeing her, he hastily wrapped himself in the outer robe he had won from the Emperor.
Xie Yuzhang took stock of the situation: Li Weifeng had lost even his inner robe, was wrapped in Li Gu’s outer robe, had lost his belt, and was missing one boot.
She looked at Li Gu. “His Majesty actually won?”
Li Gu said, “I learn fast.”
She looked back at Li Weifeng, her expression quite difficult to read.
Li Weifeng stiffened his neck. “Anything that uses the head — that’s always been his department. And I forget things — I learn and then it slips away.”
“That’s quite enough,” Xie Yuzhang said, issuing her command to leave. “Off you go.”
Both men stood. Li Gu had also put on Li Weifeng’s outer robe over his own clothes. He had lost the gold ring holding his hair bun to Li Weifeng, but his hairpin was still in place, which kept things looking generally presentable.
Without his belt, Li Weifeng could only wear Li Gu’s outer robe hanging loose. With one shoe missing on top of everything, he was a sorry sight.
Xie Yuzhang shook her head. “Give Seventh Brother his things back.”
Li Gu said, “The old rule from army camp was simple — if you want it back, buy it back with silver. You bet, you pay up.”
He had a maid bring a cloth to bundle the “spoils of war” into a proper parcel.
People say a man remains a boy until he dies — and how true it proved.
The mood had been easy and light — but then Li Weifeng suddenly said, “Yongning, what’s going on with Jing Shan? Something seems off to me.”
The air went still for a moment.
Li Gu cut in smoothly: “He has matters at home to deal with. Of course he’s not in good spirits.”
“That’s exactly what’s so strange,” Li Weifeng said, pulling on his sock. “Word is his new wife is ill and has gone to recover at a country estate. These past few days there’s been nothing pressing at the summer hunt — you’d think he’d be with her, but instead he comes out hunting. Something feels wrong. It’s not like him.”
The story the Yang and Lin families had put out was that the Guangping Earl’s wife had fallen ill and gone to one of the Yang family’s rural estates to recuperate.
What had truly happened to Lin Fei — everyone who knew was keeping tight-lipped about it. Li Weifeng had not been present that day, and Li Gu had not even told him. But the man’s instincts were so remarkably sharp that he had picked up that something was amiss.
Xie Yuzhang smiled with perfect ease. “He always was a man who loved to play — it was only circumstances that forced him to be serious all those years. Now that he’s achieved what he set out to, of course he goes back to his true nature.”
“That’s fair,” Li Weifeng said. “Him and Old Jiang — those two always were the ones who knew how to have fun.”
Xie Yuzhang smiled and asked, “How did Seventh Brother know about my Second Sister-in-law’s illness?”
Li Weifeng said, “I went home to see my daughter and heard it from Zhang Fen.”
He did not mention that Zhang Fen had seemed quite pleased when sharing this particular piece of gossip. Among the young married women of Yunjing, people always said that the two living most contentedly were Zhang Fen and Lin Fei, and the comparisons never stopped. On top of that, Lin Fei and Yang Huaishen were held up as a model couple, the very picture of mutual respect and devotion. Zhang Fen had long felt overshadowed, and resented it.
Hearing Lin Fei was ill, she had told Li Weifeng: “If she’s ill, why not recover at her own residence? The Guangping Earl’s household is big enough — what’s there to say she can’t be there? Who is she trying to fool?”
Li Weifeng hadn’t quite understood that kind of domestic logic and had asked, “What do you mean?”
Zhang Fen said, “All that talk of ‘recuperating elsewhere’ when someone’s really ill — I’ve seen enough of that kind of thing. It means she’s done something wrong and been sent away. After a while she’ll ‘die of her illness’ and that’ll be the end of it. All smoothed over nicely.”
She said smugly, “I always said as much — eight years in Mobei, a servant’s life. Did anyone really think she could come back clean? Here you go, proof enough. Yang Huaishen’s finally had enough and packed her off to some country estate.”
That was slander against a friend’s wife, and Li Weifeng’s expression had darkened immediately. He had given Zhang Fen a sharp dressing-down, they had quarreled, and they had parted on bad terms.
It was also because of all this that Li Weifeng had paid particular attention to Yang Huaishen, and noticed that something was indeed not right with him.
The topic was dropped there.
After the two men departed, Xie Yuzhang picked up her brush and wrote a letter to Lin Zi, sending someone to deliver it to the detached palace.
Lin Zi read the letter and told Yan Shi, “If anyone asks after my sister, tell them you just saw her the other day.”
Yan Shi nodded gravely. “I understand.”
Keeping Lin Fei “alive” in Yan Shi’s words was a start, though it would naturally be even better if someone from the Yang family could corroborate it. Unfortunately, only Xie Yuzhang’s maternal uncle Yang Changyuan knew the truth — and both Yang Changyuan and Yang Huaishen had kept even Yang Huaishen’s own mother, Madam Yang, in the dark.
And Xie Yuzhang herself was in mourning and could not take part in social engagements, so she could not provide testimony on Lin Fei’s behalf.
That year, just as the year before, the Emperor spent ten days at the hunting grounds and then led everyone back to Yunjing.
The day after he returned, Li Weifeng went to the palace and asked Li Gu, “Is there something strange going on with Jing Shan’s family situation?”
Li Gu paused, then asked, “What makes you say that?”
Li Weifeng said, “Yesterday I went to his residence to have a drink with him, and he wept. I asked what was wrong — he wouldn’t say. Something has gone wrong between those two. Is it really not an illness?”
Li Gu’s lips were sealed as tight as a clam. He only said, “Don’t talk nonsense — if people overhear, it’ll just make things messier.”
“Fair enough. I’ll shut my mouth.” Li Weifeng said, “Jing Shan genuinely cares for that wife of his. Madam Yang was pressuring him from every angle to settle on someone, and he held out all that time — just waiting to see what Lin the Vice Minister’s sister was like. As luck would have it, she was exactly what he’d hoped. Jing Shan always said that was the greatest stroke of fortune — thank goodness he’d held firm and not married someone else. If you care for a woman, you should honor her with the position of wife. He was single, she was unmarried — is there anything better in this world?”
Li Weifeng said all this, and then felt a wave of emotion wash over him. “There really isn’t.”
Li Gu sat in silence for a long moment, then said quietly, with difficulty: “Seventh Brother, I owe you an apology.”
Li Weifeng folded his arms. “Why bring that up again — we sorted that out long ago. That’s just how life went. Don’t mention it.”
Li Gu said, “Seventh Brother, if you have no other children, let Rourou do as Nan’er did — marry a man into the family. I’ll make Rourou’s son the heir to your title.”
Li Weifeng brightened: “I’ve been waiting for you to say that!”
Fu Chun came in to report: “The First Prince has arrived.”
Qing Que came bounding in. “Father! Seventh Uncle’s here too?”
Li Weifeng scooped him up in one arm. “Goodness, you’ve gotten heavier. You’ve been eating well!”
Qing Que objected indignantly. “I have not! Seventh Uncle always says things like that!”
Li Weifeng laughed heartily.
Qing Que wriggled free of his arms and ran to Li Gu’s side, his eyes bright. “Father, Father — Teacher praised me today!”
Li Gu lifted him onto his knee and smiled. “What did Teacher praise Qing Que for?”
Qing Que announced proudly, “For reciting the Classic of Filial Piety perfectly!”
Li Gu paused. “Has the teacher already started teaching the Classic of Filial Piety?”
Qing Que was even more proud: “He hasn’t yet — Royal Mother was the one who taught me to recite it.”
Li Gu gave a quiet “oh” and said nothing further.
Li Weifeng quickly said, “Young children memorizing and reciting — it’s all good. Better than us brothers, with our poor education — people always looking down their noses at us.”
Qing Que was just as Xie Yuzhang had once described to Lin Fei — “a healthy and clever child.” Though he did not understand what Li Gu and Li Weifeng’s exchange meant, his sharp instincts told him that when he had said this, Li Gu was not pleased.
That quickness of perception was exactly like Li Gu.
Qing Que was Li Gu’s firstborn, and a son besides — Li Gu’s love for him was something none of the other children could match. Seeing Qing Que blink and lose the bright excitement of a moment ago, Li Gu’s heart softened.
He patted Qing Que on the head and said warmly, “Recite it for me.”
Qing Que brightened again at once and immediately began: “Our bodies, hair, and skin are received from our parents, and we dare not injure them — this is where filial piety begins…”
This child was beautiful, clever, and robust. Holding him close made Li Gu’s heart go soft.
But the childish voice gradually seemed to grow distant, to drift away.
Li Gu’s mind was elsewhere — still fixed on what Li Weifeng had said:
If you care for a woman, you should honor her with the position of wife.