On the third day of the twelfth lunar month, which was Princess Six’s investiture ceremony, Wang Ning’s secret letter also reached the capital. Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Mao Qiang opened the letter, read its contents, and thought: This is bad!
Wang Ning’s superior was Mao Qiang. All the top-secret intelligence he obtained from the Northern Yuan Privy Council was sent directly to Mao Qiang.
The things one feared most often really did happen. Looking at Wang Ning’s letter inquiring about his fiancée Hu Shanwei’s situation, Mao Qiang picked up his brush but didn’t know how to reply.
If he lied, saying Hu Shanwei had already remarried or died, Wang Ning would definitely become suspicious. They were both in intelligence work and understood each other. If Wang Ning hadn’t grasped some clues, he absolutely wouldn’t suddenly ask where his fiancée had gone after three years of silence!
How much did Wang Ning actually know? Who had leaked the information?
If he directly told Wang Ning the truth: your fiancée never remarried, she endured social pressure waiting for you for three years, and even after her heart died, she still didn’t remarry but chose to enter the palace as a female official, choosing to remain single and unmarried…
Mao Qiang was human too—he knew this shocking news would cause a normal person painful heartbreak.
Wang Ning had worked so hard to infiltrate the Northern Yuan Privy Council and provided decisive intelligence for the third Northern Expedition’s victory. The fourth Northern Expedition would begin in spring, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard needed this secret agent to continue his infiltration, serving as the eyes and ears of Ming’s Northern Expedition army.
As a scout, he needed to maintain a calm mind at all times. If his heart became chaotic and he revealed flaws, how could he complete his mission?
Mao Qiang’s heart was like a compass trapped in Soul-Confusing Valley, spinning wildly in confusion. The ink on his brush was nearly dry, yet he couldn’t write a single word. No matter how he replied, it would affect Wang Ning’s undercover work. What to do?
Mao Qiang simply abandoned his brush and went out for some air.
In the twelfth lunar month, the palace already had New Year’s atmosphere, and with Princess Six’s investiture ceremony, the palace was especially festive and lively. Princess Six was Noble Consort Sun’s youngest daughter and Princess Lin’an’s biological sister, so she received particular attention.
Before Ming princesses’ investiture, they first had to receive cap and robes. The capping ceremony came first, then the investiture ceremony. The Ministry of Rites had chosen the twenty-seventh day of the eleventh month at the yin hour for the capping, and the third day of the twelfth month at the wu hour for the investiture.
It was now the wu hour, and Heaven was giving face today—sunshine bathed everything, adding a bit of warmth to Nanjing’s damp, cold winter.
An imperial table was set southeast of the dragon throne and phoenix chair in Qianqing Palace, with a golden册 (imperial edict book) placed on top. Like the iron scrolls with gold writing given to founding ministers, this “golden册” was “nominally but not actually” gold—only the engraved characters were gilded, not the entire book made of gold.
Ministers’ iron scrolls with gold writing were actually copper products shaped like roof tiles. The princesses’ golden books were two silver pieces with gilded characters, reading:
“Imperial Decree: Since ancient times, rulers who govern the world must enfeoff their daughters. Our sixth daughter has come of age but has no title. We specially grant Huaiqing as her title.”
The wu hour had arrived. The Hongwu Emperor and Empress Ma ascended their thrones. Cao Shanggong from the Bureau of Palace Attendants carried the golden book to deliver the decree, taking it to Yikun Palace where Noble Consort Sun lived. Princess Six hadn’t yet summoned a prince consort and lived with her mother.
At this time, Yikun Palace had prepared incense tables and book tables, displaying ceremonial guards. Princess Six wore the nine-phoenixes-and-four-phoenixes crown and ceremonial robes to receive the investiture.
Cao Shanggong placed the golden book on the book table. Princess Six kowtowed toward Qianqing Palace to thank the imperial grace. The investiture ceremony was complete—from now on, Princess Six had a title: Princess Huaiqing.
Princess Huaiqing first went to Fengxian Hall to worship her ancestors, then to Qianqing Palace to kowtow thanks to the Hongwu Emperor and Empress Ma. Only then was the investiture ceremony truly finished.
After the ceremony, the Hongwu Emperor issued an edict commanding the Ministry of Rites to select a marriage for Princess Huaiqing. The imperial edict stated:
“Our sixth imperial daughter Princess Huaiqing has grown up, and it is proper to choose a match for her. The Ministry shall announce to officials, military personnel, and common people: those aged fourteen or fifteen and above, with upright character, pure family education, and handsome talent may register their names and come to the Inner Palace for selection.”
When the edict was issued, both inside and outside the palace were in uproar, all discussing which young man would be so fortunate as to become Princess Huaiqing’s prince consort.
Today’s weather was rarely good, and with Princess Huaiqing’s investiture ceremony, most palace servants went to Yikun Palace to offer congratulations and seek rewards. With so many people and eyes, they even set up a stage to perform “The Lute Song” newly arranged by the Imperial Music Bureau with pipa string music. Yikun Palace was too noisy, so Noble Consort Sun ordered Jiang Quan to carry the little princess (wearing a tiger-head warm cap) out for a walk and to enjoy the sunshine, seeking some peace and quiet.
Now that the little princess was being raised by Noble Consort Sun, who had rich child-rearing experience, she had grown plump and fair in less than a month.
Noble Consort Sun was different from Consort Li. Consort Li only treated the little princess as a tool for currying favor and gaining fame and profit. When the Hongwu Emperor visited Changchun Palace, even if the little princess was sleeping, Consort Li would order the wet nurse to bring her to her room and forcibly wake her to play.
In socializing with other palace consorts, Consort Li would also flaunt the little princess like the most brilliant jewelry, completely ignoring that the little princess was at an age where she resisted strangers approaching or holding her.
Noble Consort Sun had raised two princesses and knew how precious daughters were. Moreover, given the consort’s age and status, she had no need to curry favor with anyone, so she raised the little princess in a relaxed and comfortable manner. Today Yikun Palace was too lively, so she had Jiang Quan carry the little princess out to enjoy the sunshine.
Noble Consort Sun vaguely knew from Empress Ma about Jiang Quan’s connection to the little princess. Both being mothers with daughters, Noble Consort Sun truly admired Jiang Quan’s determination—reducing her age, studying hard for over ten years, just to pass the examination to become a palace official and see her daughter. Therefore, she tacitly permitted Jiang Quan to approach the little princess.
Perhaps due to natural blood attraction, the little princess would beam with joy upon seeing Jiang Quan, reaching out to be held, very intimate.
Jiang Quan carried the little princess out to enjoy the sunshine and admire plum blossoms. The little princess kicked her two legs like a frog, extending her chubby hands to pick plum blossoms.
After holding her for a long time, Jiang Quan found it somewhat tiring. Hu Shanwei extended both hands: “Let me.”
Today Jiang Quan, Huang Weide, Chen Er’mei, Hu Shanwei, and Shen Qionglian rarely had time to gather together to admire plums and play.
Hu Shanwei supported the little princess’s dumpling-like bottom while her chubby hands grasped plum blossoms from the branch tips, grabbing handfuls and immediately stuffing them into her mouth.
“Can’t eat those.” Jiang Quan took out a finger-thick long stick cookie from her pocket. The little princess babbled and dropped the plum blossoms, grabbing the finger cookie to put in her mouth. But she was dressed too thickly, her arms too short—when she bent her elbows halfway, they were trapped by the cotton clothes, unable to reach her mouth.
The finger cookie was only a fist’s distance from her mouth, but the little princess cried out in frustration. Female Instructor Shen Qionglian found it amusing, took the finger cookie, and helped put it in her mouth.
The little princess sucked the finger cookie like a little goldfish, her eyes rolling around, curiously surveying the ice and snow world.
Shen Qionglian personally picked plum blossoms one by one, putting them in a small basket to process into tea later. Not caring whether the little princess understood, she said:
“Plum blossoms’ fragrance comes from bitter cold—it’s because of these flowers that I’ve come to love winter. Without plum blossoms, winter would be utterly worthless. Don’t you agree, little princess?”
The little princess, with the finger cookie in her mouth, responded: “Yi, ah.”
Shen Qionglian smiled and pinned a plum blossom to the little princess’s tiger-head cap: “I never thought you’d be my kindred spirit.”
Hu Shanwei found the snack in the little princess’s mouth very familiar: “I’ve seen this at Princess Yan’s. When Princess Yan was disciplining her brother Xu Zengshou to quit gambling, she used this to disguise a finger and chopped down with a knife. The finger cookie fell to the ground, and I was so scared I thought Princess Yan had really cut off her own brother’s finger.”
This scene was unforgettable for Hu Shanwei. Princess Yan was pregnant at the time, had tied up Xu Zengshou, and dragged him behind a horse for half a li—a fierce woman from a military family, formidable indeed.
Chen Er’mei laughed: “This is a method Princess Yan told Noble Consort Sun about. She said the little princess is teething, her gums are itchy, and slightly harder snacks help her grind them, preventing her from putting everything in her mouth. Noble Consort Sun ordered our Imperial Kitchen Bureau to go to Prince Yan’s mansion to ‘secretly learn’ the technique. We bake finger cookies in the imperial kitchen and send them to Yikun Palace daily for the little princess to use for teething.”
Hu Shanwei praised: “Noble Consort Sun is thoughtful, Princess Yan is warm-hearted—the little princess is blessed this time.”
The palace was most taboo about giving food meant for others’ consumption. Not even Princess Yan, let alone the little princess’s own brother Prince Chu, could easily send food to his sister. Princess Yan and Noble Consort Sun cooperated perfectly to solve the little princess’s teething problem.
Huang Weide said enviously: “Princess Yan married well—Prince Yan treats his princess consort with single-minded devotion. Because Princess Yan likes listening to opera, Prince Yan keeps many renowned contemporary dramatists at his mansion. Jia Zhongming wrote the famous works ‘Jade Pot Spring’ and ‘Matching Jade Combs,’ Yang Jingchun wrote ‘Journey to the West’—all were written while being supported by Prince Yan’s mansion. Princess Yan is very fond of them and often requests these plays for entertainment.”
Huang Weide had been in the palace for many years and knew all kinds of royal gossip like the back of her hand.
Hu Shanwei had personally reviewed Yang Jingchun’s “Journey to the West” and used her red brush to delete many “prohibited” passages. Hearing this, she suddenly understood: “No wonder Princess Yan would cover her mouth and laugh from time to time when ‘Journey to the West’ was performed. She knew what scenes had been deleted—I never expected this play actually came from Prince Yan’s mansion.”
It turned out that the “Parasitic Grass” song Monkey King sang—”Pig Bajie panting heavily, Sha Monk speaking quietly. Above, they strain forward desperately; below, she gently sways her waist in response”—was something Princess Yan had heard and allowed playwright Yang Jingjian to preserve.
I never knew you were this kind of Princess Yan! Hu Shanwei was always shocked by Princess Yan.
Chen Er’mei clicked her tongue upon hearing this: “‘Jade Pot Spring’ and ‘Matching Jade Combs’ are both love stories between courtesans and scholars. Prince Yan’s mansion truly has no taboos—they dare write anything. Princess Yan is really bold—she dares listen to anything.”
“Journey to the West” could be modified and censored for palace performance, but plays like “Jade Pot Spring” and “Matching Jade Combs” could absolutely never enter the palace. The Hongwu Emperor’s standard was virtuous women like Zhao Wuniang from “The Lute Song,” while courtesans could never be called virtuous women by the Hongwu Emperor’s standards.
Shen Qionglian, who was picking plum blossoms, was quite indignant upon hearing this and snorted: “Don’t look down on ‘Jade Pot Spring.’ The songs in it are excellently written. There’s a ‘Rolling Embroidered Ball’ that’s simply superb: ‘Promoting people’s eyebrows, the short wall’s side dancing, floating withered willows; replacing people’s haggardness, the small pond’s dry, withered old lotus; severing people’s souls, the treetops’ dim, bleak wild smoke lightly painted’—one line, one scene, emotion through scenery. Such divine verses can’t be written by just anyone.”
Shen Qionglian spoke directly, leaving Chen Er’mei momentarily choked, not knowing what to say.
Huang Weide, at thirty-eight, had the shallowest learning but, having fought her way up from the bottom, was skilled at handling people. She quickly changed the topic: “The Emperor has issued an edict to select a prince consort for Princess Huaiqing, saying that officials, military personnel, and common people—those fourteen or fifteen and above with upright character, clean family backgrounds, and handsome talent—can all register at the Inner Palace. In the past, princesses all chose prince consorts from among high ministers and nobles. Princess Huaiqing’s older sister Princess Lin’an married the eldest son of former Prime Minister Li Shanzhang. Is the Emperor planning to pick a prince consort from among common people this time?”
This was currently the hottest topic both inside and outside the palace. Everyone had their own thoughts, not knowing what the Emperor was thinking. If commoners really went to register at the Inner Palace, would the Emperor abandon those from noble families and choose commoners?
Shen Qionglian said bluntly: “It’s just talk, showing the imperial family treats everyone equally. But who would be so blind as to actually register at the Inner Palace without even looking in a mirror? Anyway, no one from our Shen family dares register.”
The Shen family was wealthy but of ordinary status. Shen Qionglian’s father and brothers were all provincial graduates, but they didn’t dare have family members register to compete for prince consort.
Chen Er’mei agreed: “Right, without sufficient weight, who would dare marry a princess and become the Emperor’s in-law? I heard Marquis Xiping registered his eldest son Mu Chun.”
Upon hearing this, Hu Shanwei’s heart skipped a beat, and she unconsciously refuted: “Impossible. Marquis Xiping Mu Ying is the Emperor’s adopted son. In terms of seniority, he’s Princess Huaiqing’s adoptive older brother. If this were among commoners, Mu Chun would have to call Princess Huaiqing ‘aunt.’ How could a nephew marry his aunt?”