Xu Zengshou lectured his nephews as if they were grandsons:
“Plain and unremarkable appearance? At your age, you’d be doing well to be half as good-looking as Member Hu. Weak? Member Hu is being careful not to cause trouble for Palace Supervisor Hu. Even five taels of silver could be blown out of proportion by someone behind the scenes. Do you really think no one else will die after the Lan Yu Case? In these times, everyone wishes they could shrink their necks and act like turtles—who dares to stick their head out?”
These words made his nephews nod repeatedly. They were very clear about why they remained in the capital. Now their lives, including their marriages, couldn’t be decided by themselves or even their parents—Emperor Hongwu had contracted it all. Their maternal uncles were their greatest support.
The heirs of other prince residences had their maternal grandfather families completely wiped out by Emperor Hongwu, especially Prince Shu’s residence—his maternal grandfather Lan Yu’s skin had even been sent to the prince’s residence. Comparatively, the five children from Prince Yan’s and Prince Dai’s residences were quite fortunate. Their maternal grandfather Marquis Zhongshan Xu Da had died early, which turned out to be a good thing. Emperor Hongwu wouldn’t be wary of a dead man, so Duke Weiguo’s residence survived the great purge.
Duke Weiguo’s residence had two uncles. The eldest, second-generation Duke Weiguo Xu Zuxi, was brave in battle and always led troops on border duty, not in the capital. The second uncle, Xu Zengshou, had been spoiled by Xu Da—neither scholarly nor martial, holding a nominal first-rank military position with no real duties, only appearing at grand court assemblies wearing ceremonial robes to pay respects to Emperor Hongwu, purely for show.
Xu Zengshou had no children with his original wife Lady Mu. After Lady Mu’s death, he neither remarried nor took concubines, continuing to live as a wealthy idle man. Thus he had time to look after his five nephews who were hostages in the capital, occasionally inviting them to Duke Weiguo’s residence for family gatherings. Though called uncle, he actually worried about them like half a father.
Since gaining five nephews, each troublemaker was nothing but worry, especially Prince Yan’s second son Zhu Gaoxi, who had an explosive temper, was good at fighting, and frequently caused trouble.
These troublemakers completely extinguished Xu Zengshou’s thoughts of having a child. Raising children was simply too troublesome. This lazy man became even more determined to take the easy route and adopt his older brother’s child in the future.
Truly worthy of being the youngest son pampered from childhood by the amazing father Xu Da—even if you hung a pancake around his neck, he’d be too lazy to turn and bite it. Having children was impossible; he would never have children in this lifetime.
“…I’m telling you, if you marry a fool, you’ll be finished for life. In the imperial family, women fear marrying the wrong man, but men fear even more marrying the wrong woman. A virtuous and capable wife will give you wings, while a stupid and incompetent wife will stab you in both sides.”
“After the beauty selection, whether you get wings or get stabbed, Palace Supervisor Hu’s attitude is crucial. You offended her father at this critical juncture—it’s like an old lady hanging herself, tired of living!”
Prince Yan’s heir apparent Zhu Gaochi quickly poured tea and handed it to his uncle. “We know we were wrong. Second Uncle has been lecturing us for so long—you must be tired. Here, have some tea.”
Zhu Gaochi was a plump white youth with a big pale face and a sincere smile. They say you don’t hit a smiling face, especially when that smiling face belongs to your own nephew.
Xu Zengshou’s anger subsided as he accepted the tea cup and took a sip. “During the selection period, all of you behave yourselves. Don’t cause trouble, don’t be impulsive. And you two girls, don’t go along with your brothers’ nonsense. Wherever you want to play, Uncle will take you. I won’t dare claim anything else, but for these four things—eating, drinking, and having fun—no one in the capital can compare to me.”
The two young princesses thought: Going out to play with elders… I’d rather stay in the palace.
The five gaudy pink youths had come with high spirits but returned dejected with the psychological shadow of possibly marrying foolish wives.
After lecturing his nephews, Xu Zengshou still had to clean up their mess. He had to go downstairs again to chat and apologize to Hu Rong, but Hu Rong had anticipated this. He felt he couldn’t bear an apology from Xu Da’s son, so without even finishing his beloved “Tale of the Pipa,” he had slipped away early.
Returning to the Hu family bookstore, business was booming. Those coming to buy books were almost all attractive young women between thirteen and sixteen—apparently hoping to try their luck there.
The beauty selection and commoner princess consort matter had caused quite a stir. Most who came to buy books had impure motives. Hu Rong’s days had been anything but peaceful recently, which was why he had gone to the Imperial Music Bureau’s brothel to hide and seek quiet. Unfortunately, in this enormous arena of fame and fortune that was the capital, he could encounter powerful figures he couldn’t afford to offend anywhere—there was nowhere to hide.
Hu Rong had his shop assistant close early under the pretext of taking inventory.
The next day, the Hu family bookstore’s doors were tightly shut with a notice posted: “Returning home to worship ancestors, temporarily closed.”
Those who came seeking the shop had to return disappointed. Some persistent ones asked neighboring shopkeepers where Hu Rong had gone to worship ancestors.
Some neighbors said Suzhou, others said Jining in Shandong. Actually, Hu Rong hadn’t gone anywhere—he was too timid and cautious to dare return to his Jining hometown to acknowledge ancestral relatives.
Hu Rong had taken his entire family to avoid the limelight at a farm estate outside Nanjing. This estate had originally been dowry he prepared for his daughter Hu Shanwei, thinking that when she left the palace to marry in the future, it would add to her trousseau. But his daughter not only hadn’t left the palace—she had kept getting promoted, rising to the position of Palace Supervisor, the highest female official in the Ming Dynasty. She was already “too happy to think of Shu” and could never return.
Hu Rong became a small landlord at the estate, fishing and reading in his spare time, finally achieving peace.
News of Hu Rong’s move to the estate was immediately reported to Hu Shanwei by Ji Gang: “…Your father packed his luggage at midnight and left as soon as the city gates opened at dawn. We were afraid he was going to Suzhou or Jining and would have to ‘invite’ your father’s family back to Nanjing. Unexpectedly, though Member Hu claimed to be returning home to worship ancestors, he actually went to the Nanjing estate. This puts us at ease.”
With Hu Shanwei as Palace Supervisor, Emperor Hongwu couldn’t allow Hu Rong’s family to move out of the capital—just as Mu Chun guarded Yunnan but Duke Qianguo’s residence remained in the capital. This was a form of constraint.
Hu Rong’s family was under strict Brocade Guard surveillance. Hu Rong’s midnight departure nearly forced the Brocade Guards to reveal their identity—the shop assistant at the Hu family bookstore was actually a Brocade Guard spy.
Hu Shanwei said, “Going to the estate to avoid the limelight is good. Once the selection is over, father will return.”
Due to his family’s great calamity—nearly complete clan extinction in a single day—Hu Rong had become habitually timid and cautious. Closing shop to avoid the limelight was something Hu Shanwei had anticipated.
However, though expected, Hu Shanwei still felt somewhat uncomfortable and asked Ji Gang, “If one day—I’m saying if—His Majesty ordered the Brocade Guards to kill my entire family, would you comply?”
Ji Gang said, “That’s impossible. If His Majesty didn’t trust you, how could he let you be Palace Supervisor?”
Hu Shanwei got her answer, smiled, and said, “I’m sorry. This is your duty—I shouldn’t have asked you such a question.”
Emperor Hongwu had “precedent.” Previously, to conceal Crown Prince Yiwen’s poisoning of Prince Lu, Emperor Hongwu had threatened Hu Shanwei with her entire family’s lives.
In the Lan Yu Case, though Hu Shanwei hadn’t been implicated, Lan Yu, Feng Sheng, Fu Youde and other veteran officials who had fought alongside her all met the fate of complete family extermination. Hu Shanwei was self-aware—though she had some merit from her years as a female official in the harem, helping Emperor Hongwu with his worries, these achievements were trivial compared to those veteran ministers.
Therefore, Hu Shanwei’s mind had always been clear. If Emperor Hongwu wanted to move against her, he definitely wouldn’t show mercy for old times’ sake.
Currently, Emperor Hongwu treated her well, but serving the emperor was like accompanying a tiger! How could she know when this old tiger would bare its fangs at her?
With fifteen years of friendship with Ji Gang, if Emperor Hongwu gave the order, Ji Gang wouldn’t show leniency either.
Controlled by others, helpless—under imperial power, Hu Shanwei had no strength to resist. This made her feel very insecure.
Currently, as the highest female official in the court presiding over the beauty selection, Hu Shanwei appeared to wield great power, able to influence the Ming Dynasty’s future direction. But inside, Hu Shanwei was panicking. Until she could retire and leave the palace, her heart couldn’t rest. Yet all this was hidden beneath her calm exterior—she couldn’t tell anyone…
While deep in thought, Haitang approached: “The Crown Princess requests Palace Supervisor Hu to come view the peach blossoms.”
Hu Shanwei frowned slightly. “It must be about the Crown Prince’s consort again. The Crown Princess thinks too highly of me. How could a mere Palace Supervisor decide the future Empress? This is His Majesty’s concern.”
Haitang said, “Palace Supervisor Hu can’t decide who it is, but you can still say a few words about the candidates. People from the Court Bureau of Rites said many noble ladies entered the palace today for the peach blossom banquet, quite a few daughters of wealthy and noble families—probably all eyeing the future Empress position.”
Hu Shanwei sat at her dressing table, touching up the rouge on her lips to look more spirited. “The Crown Princess has invited me—I can’t refuse to show face. I’ll go to the Eastern Palace for a few pleasantries. Watch the time, and when it’s about right, come find me claiming urgent business so I can make my escape.”
Haitang changed Hu Shanwei’s black silk cap to a new one with several pink silk flowers pinned to the left side—silk peach blossoms, perfect for the Eastern Palace peach blossom banquet.
On the way, she encountered Crown Prince Zhu Yunwen with eunuchs and palace maids following behind. One palace maid was even carrying a guqin.
Hu Shanwei made way and paid her respects. Seeing the silk flowers on her official cap, Zhu Yunwen smiled and said, “Is Palace Supervisor Hu going to the peach blossom banquet? Perfect—I’ll go with Palace Supervisor. Mother just asked me to come meet several elder titled ladies and play a tune to enliven the banquet.”
It seemed that no matter how old or high in status, everyone had to be dragged out by their mothers to perform for guests.
The Crown Prince was seventeen this year. The imperial family married early—if not for Crown Prince Yiwen’s mourning period, he would have married at fifteen.
The harem had strict rules. To distinguish between the Crown Prince and Crown Prince, the Crown Princess continued residing in the Eastern Palace while the Crown Prince had his dedicated Crown Prince Palace. Mother and son didn’t live together.
The Crown Prince was already seventeen and needed to avoid suspicion. Without summons, he rarely wandered the harem. In the imperial family, everyone had more schemes than lotus pods. With the beauty selection happening, Hu Shanwei didn’t believe this meeting with the Crown Prince was mere coincidence.
As Hu Shanwei and the Crown Prince walked along the palace path, Hu Shanwei maintained her pace, always staying about half a step behind the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince said, “I’ve been reading Empress Xiaoci’s ‘Record of Worthy Consorts’ Admonishments from the Song Dynasty’ these past days. I found the printing and binding quite exquisite. I later learned this book was personally printed in Hangzhou by Palace Supervisor Hu years ago. Palace Supervisor Hu is truly capable of anything.”
Hu Shanwei smiled. “That was fifteen years ago. I had just entered the palace and, at Director Fan’s request, printed this book to bestow upon harem consorts and imperial relatives.”
Mentioning this book immediately brightened Hu Shanwei’s mood, dispelling her earlier gloom about her father going to the countryside to avoid the limelight. That trip to Hangzhou to print books had led to mutual understanding between her and Mu Chun. On the official boat, they had both vowed to grow their own shells, protect themselves, and no longer depend on family.
Fifteen years had passed. Both she and Mu Chun had grown hard shells, fulfilling their vows.
Mu Chun, Mu Chun—like bathing in spring breeze. Just memories of him could make this oppressive world beautiful.
The Crown Prince had been intelligent since childhood. Observing expressions, he saw Hu Shanwei’s eyes suddenly shine with inexplicable radiance, and her features clearly contained laughter. He thought it was due to his flattering words, praising her as “capable of anything,” and secretly thought he had said the right thing—people still liked to hear good words, and Palace Supervisor Hu was no exception.
The Crown Prince was cautious inwardly while maintaining his usual scholarly calm exterior, continuing, “I was only two then, just learning to speak. In the blink of an eye, I’ve reached marriageable age.”
Here it comes! Hu Shanwei thought. The Crown Prince really has many schemes—first using a book as a topic to establish rapport, then using this to broach the main subject and test my attitude.
Hu Shanwei didn’t resent the Crown Prince’s probing. After all, the Crown Prince’s consort would be his wife, his future life companion, and his political partner. The Crown Prince naturally had requirements regarding birth, character, talent, virtue, and so on. Anyone would find it impossible to remain indifferent about such matters.
The Crown Prince would inherit the throne in the future. How Hu Shanwei spent her later years would depend on him. No matter how domineering Emperor Hongwu was, he was still old—a sixty-eight-year-old man whom the King of Hell could summon at any time.
So from a self-interest perspective, Hu Shanwei was quite willing to satisfy this “customer’s” needs.
Hu Shanwei picked up the thread: “Does the Crown Prince have any expectations for his future Crown Princess?”
Hu Shanwei didn’t waste words—she got straight to business. The Crown Prince seemed somewhat shy and gave a standard answer: “As long as Grandfather is satisfied.”
As if Emperor Hongwu were the one getting married.
At this moment, Hu Shanwei’s mind was full of Mu Chun. She remembered when they first met, Mu Chun was also seventeen, the same age as the Crown Prince. But the Crown Prince was so mature and steady, while Mu Chun at that time had an impulsive, rebellious personality… she really missed him.
Mu Chun was like a virus—once infected, he replicated himself everywhere, omnipresent, constantly asserting his existence. She thought of him constantly, and everything she saw reminded her of him, inevitably using him for comparison.
Hu Shanwei secretly organized her emotions that had nearly gotten out of control, saying, “The girls who can be selected to the capital won’t be lacking. They each have their own personalities and strengths. Actually, people aren’t good or bad—only suitable or unsuitable. The Crown Princess is someone who will spend her entire life with Your Highness. Husband and wife are one—sharing glory and sharing loss. Though marriage is supposedly by parents’ command and matchmaker’s arrangement, the Crown Prince’s own thoughts are also important. Among so many girls, there must be one who meets the Crown Prince’s wishes.”
They say marriage is by parents’ command and matchmaker’s arrangement. But that old saying again—just because it’s always been done this way, does that make it right? Mu Chun’s parents’ tragic marriage was proof—oh dear, why was she thinking of him again?
Hu Shanwei secretly pinched her palm with fingers hidden in her sleeve: Stop being distracted.
Encouraged, the Crown Prince spoke candidly: “When Empress Xiaoci passed away, I was still young, but I was already old enough to remember things. I remember Empress Xiaoci’s bearing—she was quiet, just, kind, always had rules for everything but wasn’t rigid about rules, was tolerant with children, merciful to consorts, and had a compassionate heart. I suppose this is the bearing of a national mother. Palace Supervisor Hu was close to Empress Xiaoci. When Palace Supervisor Hu fed deer and phoenixes at Xiaoling, serving as tomb guardian for a year, even I, her grandson, wasn’t as devout and filial as Palace Supervisor Hu. I’m quite ashamed. If the future Crown Princess could have one-tenth of Empress Xiaoci’s qualities, I would be very satisfied.”
Ancients particularly valued loyalty and filial piety. Hu Shanwei’s year as tomb guardian gave her a transcendent status in the imperial family. Her becoming Palace Supervisor at thirty-two was almost by popular acclaim.
Hu Shanwei thought: Indeed grandfather and grandson—their thoughts about the Crown Princess coincided perfectly, both requiring “like Empress Xiaoci.”
“Your Highness’s requirement of one-tenth is too high,” Hu Shanwei said honestly. “The Empress Xiaoci Your Highness saw was in her later years. The Crown Princess you’ll marry is a girl between thirteen and sixteen. People change and grow gradually. No one is born an empress—everyone must learn and experience things before becoming like Empress Xiaoci, a model national mother. It’s not achieved in a day.”
“Not to mention an empress—even I went through hardships to achieve today’s small success. When I first entered the palace, I was just a copyist with no advantages except fast writing. Using common folk wisdom: to appear noble before others, you must suffer behind the scenes. You see thieves eating meat but not taking beatings.”
Hu Shanwei never avoided mentioning her merchant background.
The Crown Prince found this quite enlightening: “Palace Supervisor Hu is right—I was wrong. Thinking about it, the gap between me and Grandfather is more than a hundred-fold, yet I demanded the future Crown Princess have one-tenth of Empress Xiaoci’s qualities—a ten-fold difference in standards. How shameful. I can’t even do it myself—how can I expect others to?”
Good thinking. With the “customer” lowering his own standards, satisfaction would naturally increase, making Hu Shanwei’s selection work easier—better than ending up with pairs of resentful couples.
As they talked, they reached the Eastern Palace. Though called flower viewing, it was actually people viewing. The Crown Princess’s peach blossom banquet had invited notable wealthy families from the capital—at least earl rank and above. Each titled lady brought her family’s most outstanding unmarried daughters to the palace. Their purpose was obvious—all eyeing the Crown Prince’s position.
Looking at the noble daughters under the peach trees, Hu Shanwei secretly shook her head: It seems everyone thinks His Majesty’s “selecting beauties from among the people, forming marriages with common fields” only applies to prince residence heir consorts, thereby weakening prince residences since heirs couldn’t use their wives’ maternal family power.
Weakening prince residences was naturally to strengthen the Crown Prince’s power, so the Crown Princess must come from a wealthy capital family.
This way, through reduction and increase, with power ebbing and flowing, the Crown Prince’s position would be secure.
But Hu Shanwei clearly remembered Emperor Hongwu never said the Crown Princess would be an exception, selected from wealthy daughters. According to the “like Empress Xiaoci” standard, daughters who understood commoners’ hardships and came from minor official families would probably be more suitable than pampered, arrogant wealthy daughters.
When Palace Supervisor Hu arrived, the Crown Princess personally left her seat to welcome her, showing respect for Hu Shanwei. Various titled ladies led their daughters to show themselves before Hu Shanwei—eight immortals crossing the sea, each displaying their abilities, hoping to leave a good impression.
In such situations, Hu Shanwei naturally praised everyone, exhausting various complimentary adjectives:
“Your daughter is truly beautiful—even Jade Pool fairies couldn’t compare.”
“Your bearing is otherworldly, like immortal flowers in this peach garden.”
“That sword dance was excellent—combining strength and grace, truly showing that women aren’t inferior to men.”
“Did you embroider this handkerchief yourself? Your needlework is divine—these grapes look ready to eat.”
“Good poem, good poem! I must recite your poem to Director Shen for her to critique—she’ll surely love it.”
As Hu Shanwei racked her brains trying not to repeat compliments, the Crown Prince played guqin in the bamboo grove. The bamboo stalks and leaves provided partial cover, and the dim lighting meant unmarried men and women couldn’t see each other clearly—not improper while allowing the music to flow freely.
The Crown Prince played “Three Variations of Plum Blossoms”—a conventional piece. With the Crown Prince’s cautious personality, he couldn’t possibly play something explicit like “Phoenix Seeks Phoenix.”
Actually, being dragged by his mother to perform was something the Crown Prince inwardly resisted. But what young man doesn’t think of spring? Even someone as noble as the Crown Prince hoped his future wife would love not just the Crown Princess position but also him as a person.