When the Hongwu Emperor summoned her and Hu Shanwei appeared before the throne for the first time, receiving imperial rewards, Fan Gongzheng was naturally happy for her. He secretly observed Cao Shanggong’s expression, which seemed stiff as if blown by too much cold wind. He thought to himself: What does it matter if you’re unhappy? Now that Hu Shanwei has distinguished herself before the Emperor, don’t think you can trample on her as easily as before.
Actually, Fan Gongzheng was overthinking it. Cao Shanggong’s sour expression was deliberately put on for outsiders to see. Hu Shanwei’s rise to prominence, leaving her mark before the Emperor—this unstoppable momentum was unique among the palace’s female officials. Even Cao herself had never achieved such heights in her day. This girl might truly fulfill the oath made under the old plum tree to avenge Liu Siyan…
At the winter solstice imperial family banquet, all members of the royal family attended. At the table for the princes’ consorts, the fourth prince’s consort, Princess Yan Xu Shi, sat in the place of honor. Crown Princess Chang Shi had already passed away, and the Eastern Palace only had Consort Lu, who naturally could not sit at the same table as the princes’ consorts. The second prince’s consort, Princess Qin, had already become a nun and was now Master Qingjing. The third prince’s consort had long since followed Prince Jin to Taiyuan for his enfeoffment.
Therefore, during year-end festivals and various ceremonial occasions, it was Princess Yan, fourth in rank, who took on the duties of the eldest daughter-in-law. Princess Yan was in good health and, despite being pregnant with her fourth child, still moved with the grace of wind.
Seeing Princess Yan at the banquet with her large belly, Hu Shanwei realized that when she had taken her galloping on horseback to the outskirts to catch gamblers and discipline her brother Xu Zengshou to quit gambling, Princess Yan had already been pregnant!
What a formidable woman this was!
Hu Shanwei still remembered how her stepmother Chen Shi behaved during pregnancy, sitting like a brooding hen, rarely moving, delicate and timid. When something fell on the ground, she wouldn’t bend over or squat down to pick it up, instead instructing Hu Shanwei to do everything for her.
At her most affected, Chen Shi would sit on the chamber pot and claim her fingers couldn’t reach her bottom, demanding that Hu Shanwei take the toilet paper and wipe for her.
At that time, Hu Shanwei had been furious, going out to throw the toilet paper at her father, demanding that he fulfill his responsibilities as a husband.
Yet here was Princess Yan, daring to ride horses galloping across fields while pregnant, even tying up her brother and dragging him behind the horse’s rear.
The difference between women could be so vast. Hu Shanwei was deeply impressed and almost wanted to ask Princess Yan about her health and fitness methods. However, as a palace female official, it wasn’t appropriate for her to befriend a princess consort who lived outside the palace. She merely glanced down at Princess Yan’s large belly before hurriedly leaving the imperial family banquet.
Judging from the considerable size of her belly, Princess Yan would probably give birth in the twelfth lunar month. At only eighteen years old, two years younger than herself, she was about to become the mother of four children—one per year. It was truly…
While she was pondering this, a clear, boyish voice called from behind her: “Dianzheng Hu.”
Hu Shanwei turned around and saw a young eunuch holding a lantern under a plum tree. It was actually Ma Sanbao, the castrated boy beside Master Qingjing.
Hu Shanwei hurried over and asked, “Does Master Qingjing wish to see me about something?”
Ma Sanbao nodded, hung the lantern on a plum branch, and respectfully handed her a book with both hands. It was the poetry collection “Alone Hermitage Collection” by Chan Master Dao Yan.
Hu Shanwei was somewhat puzzled. Ma Sanbao opened to the title page, where several lines were written: “The highest good is like water. Water benefits all things and does not compete, dwelling in places that others despise, thus it is close to the Dao.”
This was content from Laozi’s “Dao De Jing,” saying that the best character is like water, nourishing and embracing all things without competing with others for fame or profit.
At the end was a signature: “Dao Yan.”
“This…” Hu Shanwei suddenly realized what this was, holding the book in disbelief: “This is Chan Master Dao Yan’s personal autograph?”
Seeing her joy, Ma Sanbao showed a pure, innocent smile: “Yes, I heard that Dianzheng Hu admires Chan Master Dao Yan and is well-versed in the ‘Alone Hermitage Collection.’ It happened that Chan Master Dao Yan came to explain Buddhist scriptures to Master Qingjing, and I boldly asked the Master to request brush and ink from Chan Master Dao Yan. The Master asked who it was for, saying he wouldn’t give his calligraphy to just anyone.”
“I told the Master about how Dianzheng Hu battled wits with the villains at Prince Qin’s mansion in Xi’an. The Master was deeply moved, and upon learning your name was Hu Shanwei, he repeatedly said it was a good name, then wrote these words ‘The highest good is like water’ as a gift for Dianzheng Hu.”
Hu Shanwei was overjoyed, clutching the poetry collection with Chan Master Dao Yan’s personal autograph tightly to her chest as if afraid bandits might snatch it away. She excitedly said: “Years ago when Suzhou suffered the massacre, my father carried me on his back as we fled to Wofo Temple. We were knocked down by the crowd, and I fell out of the bamboo basket. It was Chan Master Dao Yan who helped me up. Since then, I’ve admired the Master. He is an enlightened monk, and I never dared dream of receiving a gift of his calligraphy. Thank you and the Master for obtaining this gift that I couldn’t have imagined even in dreams.”
Ma Sanbao said in surprise: “I never knew you had such karmic connection with the Master. It seems we gave the right gift.”
Hu Shanwei treasured it like a precious gem—this was more valuable than all the Hongwu Emperor’s rewards combined. She asked Ma Sanbao: “How is the Master’s health recently? How is her spirit? I serve in the rear palace and cannot leave without proper reason. I want to visit the Master but cannot fulfill this wish.”
Ma Sanbao said: “The Master’s body is recovering. Recently she can drink some milk. The Master chants sutras day and night, and with enlightened monks like Chan Master Dao Yan answering her questions and resolving doubts, her spirit has calmed considerably. The Master also often teaches me not to harbor resentment toward the human world because of past suffering. Hatred will destroy a person’s character—one should be kind. Good deeds bring good results, evil deeds bring evil results.”
Ma Sanbao was a boy captured and castrated by Prince Qin during his western campaign. Though intelligent and handsome, his future was ruined. Now that the Hongwu Emperor was wary of eunuchs, the palace eunuchs wished they could tuck their tails between their legs. Ma Sanbao becoming a young attendant beside Master Qingjing was actually more comfortable than being in the palace.
Moreover, the Hongwu Emperor forbade eunuchs from reading and writing—discovery meant beheading. Ma Sanbao having the opportunity to receive guidance from an enlightened monk like Chan Master Dao Yan outside the palace was a good thing.
Cause and effect cycle endlessly. Hu Shanwei considered that she had merely gone on an official assignment and done what she should do, but for Master Qingjing and Ma Sanbao, she was the great savior who helped them escape hell.
Just as Chan Master Dao Yan stepped forward during the Suzhou massacre to protect all the refugees in the temple—for him, it was just natural compassion and mercy arising from a practitioner’s benevolent heart, as natural as breathing. Yet Hu Shanwei had survived because of it.
The highest good is like water—one must maintain kind thoughts. Who knows when the seeds of goodness sown will bloom and bear fruit? Evil is the same—evil consequences aren’t absent, just that the time hasn’t yet come.
Under the old plum tree, Hu Shanwei recalled the poisonous oath she had made before Cao Shanggong. Honestly, she had no confidence at all, but today’s unexpected receipt of Chan Master Dao Yan’s calligraphy gift suggested that when individual acts of kindness accumulated together, seemingly impossible goals might still have a chance of realization.
The day after the winter solstice, people from the palace’s “Hair Combing Chamber” went to Changchun Palace in the Western Six Palaces to shave the head of the little princess who had just learned to sit.
According to Ming Dynasty custom, children of both sexes had their heads completely shaved before age eight—”not leaving a single hair, like little Buddhas.” After eight years old, they would leave the hair on top of the head while still shaving the sides clean. This meant the “center” kept hair while the “local areas” were left “without a trace.”
By ten or so, having become young men and women, they would stop shaving their heads entirely. The long hair in the middle was combed into a topknot, while the sides, having just started growing hair again, couldn’t be formed into topknots and naturally hung loose—called “loose hair,” this was the mark of unmarried men and women.
Once married, regardless of sex, all hair had to be completely arranged in topknots or covered with hair nets, perfectly neat to show dignity. The Ming imperial family followed the same hair-shaving and hair-keeping rules as commoners.
The “Hair Combing Chamber” was under the Bureau of Rites—commonly called the Wet Nurse Bureau—with about ten steady old eunuchs and palace women who specialized in shaving the heads of princes and princesses.
“Shaving heads” sounded crude, so in the palace it was called “requesting hair.” Children’s hair grew quickly, so the Hair Combing Chamber people came to “request hair” about every twenty days.
Previously, the little princess slept a lot, so the Hair Combing Chamber would wait until the wet nurse had coaxed her to sleep, then quickly and efficiently shave her head clean.
But now the little princess was six months old and slept less during the day. The Hair Combing Chamber deliberately waited until the midday nap to go to Changchun Palace.
Every time hair was “requested,” Consort Li would personally supervise from the side, fearing any accidents that would make her responsible for inadequate care.
The Hongwu Emperor valued his offspring. Because Consort Li had adopted the little princess, the Emperor often came to visit. Being in this advantageous position, Consort Li had received more “imperial favor” and, though in her thirties, had miraculously conceived! She was now just three months along, with her belly not yet showing.
“She’s sleeping deeply now. You all work quickly,” Consort Li instructed. She rubbed her temples wearily and yawned. The consort’s advanced pregnancy was not going well—she frequently felt nauseous and vomiting, and pregnancy spots were starting to appear on her face, making her look somewhat aged.
At yesterday’s winter solstice banquet, Consort Li had seen Princess Yan, already carrying her fourth child, still eating, drinking, watching opera and laughing with her big belly, full of energy. She couldn’t help but sigh that youth was wonderful—why hadn’t this child come to her belly earlier?
The room had thick carpets, so footsteps made no sound on them. The Hair Combing Chamber people worked busily but orderly, first using warm, damp towels to moisten the soft, grass-like broken hair, then two old palace women took sharp razors and began shaving.
Starting from the forehead, they shaved straight down to the end. The wet hair fell into a basin—all of this had to be collected and preserved in silk pouches.
The razor made a scratchy sensation on the scalp. The six-month-old princess’s sleep was becoming lighter—nighttime was better, but during the day she easily woke at the slightest disturbance.
The little princess opened her eyes to see two strangers. She was somewhat frightened, and combined with a baby’s crankiness upon waking, she immediately began flailing her fists and kicking in the wet nurse’s arms. Her tiny body twisted like a pretzel as she cried loudly.
The old palace woman quickly put away the razor, not daring to continue.
A sour taste surged to her throat, wanting to vomit but unable to. Consort Li dry-heaved twice and found the baby’s crying unbearably grating.
The wet nurse couldn’t soothe her even with the nipple, so she said to the Hair Combing Chamber people:
“Please trouble yourselves to come again tonight when the little princess has fallen asleep to finish shaving the remaining hair.”
The old palace woman said: “It’s no trouble. All children are like this. We’ll come to Changchun Palace again after dinner.”
Consort Li frowned and sucked on a sour plum, seeing the little princess’s half-shaved “yin-yang head” with great dissatisfaction: “This looks too ugly and improper.”
The wet nurse quickly put a tiger-head cap on the little princess: “Covering it will be fine. Besides, with the strong wind and heavy snow outside, we won’t need to carry her out for others to see.”
Consort Li’s face turned cold: “Who holds the primary position in Changchun Palace?”
The wet nurse didn’t dare speak.
Consort Li said: “If she cries again tonight during the head shaving, how long will it take to coax her? While her hair is still damp, quickly shave it all clean.”
The Hair Combing Chamber people said: “The razor is sharp. If the little princess keeps crying and struggling, we fear injuring her.”
Consort Li said: “Then hold her down. She’s only six months old—how strong can she be? Can’t one adult handle her?”
The Hair Combing Chamber people quickly said: “The princess is of noble status. We servants dare not touch her.”
Better to do nothing than to do wrong—this was the survival principle for low-level palace servants. If something went wrong, who would bear responsibility? The Hair Combing Chamber people would rather make several trips—better to run their legs off than lose their heads.
The Hair Combing Chamber people quickly packed up their shaving tools and left, fearing Consort Li would force them to shave the little princess’s head.
When the Hair Combing Chamber people came again that evening, they discovered the little princess’s other half of hair had already been shaved clean. The wet nurse handed them the silk pouch containing the cut hair, saying: “After you left, the little princess cried herself to sleep, so we took the opportunity to shave her remaining hair.”
Everything went smoothly, and the Hair Combing Chamber people took the hair away.
But that night, the little princess repeatedly had convulsions, waking up crying from nightmares, crying until she vomited. At midnight she developed a high fever and was shaking with chills and convulsions.
Ru Siyao from the Imperial Kitchen Bureau personally attended to the little princess. After acupuncture and massage, the little princess gradually calmed down. Ru Siyao examined the little princess’s vomit, as well as her bowel movements and urine, even the wet nurse’s recent diet, but found no obvious abnormalities. She then asked the wet nurse: “Did the little princess suffer any fright or shock during the day?”
The wet nurse’s eyes flickered somewhat: “Because of the cold weather and slippery roads, we didn’t carry her outside, so she received no fright.”
Ru Siyao picked up a silver needle: “Really?”
The wet nurse quickly said: “The Hair Combing Chamber people came today to request the little princess’s hair. Perhaps she was frightened during the head shaving?”
Ru Siyao called the Hair Combing Chamber people over to ask. They said that after the little princess woke up startled, they had stopped and hadn’t frightened her.
The wet nurse and the Hair Combing Chamber people blamed each other. Ru Siyao had been in the palace for ten years—how could she not know there was something suspicious here? She said: “I only treat illnesses. If you have disputes, go to the Palace Justice Bureau to lodge complaints.”
Thus, in the middle of the night, Hu Shanwei, the seventh-rank Dianzheng of the Palace Justice Bureau, was awakened and went to Changchun Palace to judge the case.