Emperor Zhengyuan saw Princess Anle rush to his face, and her very first words were a plea for the Crown Prince. His expression immediately darkened, and he rebuked her sharply: “Anle, you barged in without announcement — have you no sense of how a princess should conduct herself!”

Anle had just endured a scolding from Li Shu, and had come to Emperor Zhengyuan intending to soften her tone and beg for mercy. Yet here she was, met with another cold and harsh rebuke.

All the resentment she had been holding in erupted at once. She cried out in defiance: “Of course I have no sense of how a princess should conduct herself! You’ve placed the Crown Prince under house arrest — you stopped thinking of the Crown Prince as your son long ago. If that’s the case, then what’s the point of me being a princess at all!”

Emperor Zhengyuan felt those words strike him like a blow to the chest, as though a breath of air had been lodged and stopped there. He roared in fury: “How dare you speak to Us like this! Who raised you to be so utterly without rules!”

When the Son of Heaven raged, the consequences were grave. The eunuchs and palace maids standing in attendance dropped to their knees one after another, and the room fell into absolute silence.

Li Qin hurriedly took hold of Emperor Zhengyuan’s arm and urged him repeatedly: “Imperial Father, please don’t let this harm your health.”

He tried to advise Anle kindly: “Anle, sister, are you tired? Come sit and have a cup of tea first.”

Just shut your mouth, please!

But Anle ignored Li Qin entirely. She glared at Emperor Zhengyuan. “You ask me who raised me to be so without rules?”

“A child’s failings are the father’s fault. I am your daughter — tell me, who else could have raised me this way?!”

“And as for the Crown Prince — you placed him under house arrest, saying it was because he lacks virtue and talent, and that he must reflect on himself within the palace. Then why don’t you reflect on yourself, and ask who it was that raised the Crown Prince into someone lacking in virtue and talent!”

“You — cough, cough… cough, cough, cough…”

Anle’s words were so cutting that Emperor Zhengyuan stood up abruptly in his fury. He raised his hand, intending to point at her nose and scold her — but because he had risen too suddenly, his head let out a buzzing sound and his vision went dark. He lost his footing and stumbled backward.

It was fortunate that Li Qin had been holding him all along, otherwise he would have fallen. Seeing the Emperor’s complexion so ghastly, Li Qin barked an order: “Quickly! Go summon the imperial physicians at once!”

Then he turned a cold eye on Anle, and raised his voice in a way he rarely did: “Anle, sister, how could you speak to Imperial Father like that! Apologize at once!”

But Anle was like a firecracker — whoever set her off, she’d explode on them. The moment Li Qin scolded her, she immediately vented all her fury in his direction.

“Stay out of this! You think just because the Crown Prince is under house arrest, you can curry favor with Imperial Father? Do you think you can take the Crown Prince’s place?”

“You!” Li Qin was so enraged he was rendered speechless. He had always considered his own temperament and self-restraint to be quite good — he never imagined there would come a day when a single sentence could make his liver ache with fury.

What Anle had said was an attack on the very depths of his heart!

Regardless of whether he harbored such intentions, who in the court ever said such things out in the open!

Li Qin’s face turned an iron gray, and he said not another word.

“Anle!”

Emperor Zhengyuan’s coughing had barely subsided. He raised a trembling hand and pointed at Anle. “You… how could you speak to your Seventh Elder Brother like that!”

Anle cried out, nearly shrieking: “I have no Seventh Elder Brother or Eighth Elder Brother! I have only one brother, and that is the Crown Prince!”

Emperor Zhengyuan shook with rage. He took a step or two toward Anle. “You’ve wasted all the lessons on filial piety and fraternal love you were taught! You —”

“Filial piety and fraternal love?” Anle shot back. “What is filial piety? A father must be kind before a child can be filial — but have you been kind to us? The Crown Prince has been locked away in the Eastern Palace. Does that count as kindness? You —”

Anle’s words were cut short. A slap came flying across her face!

The slap was actually very light, for Emperor Zhengyuan’s head had been spinning with rage and his whole body trembling — he had no real strength to put into it. But Anle was stunned all the same. She took a step back, clutching her face. “Imperial Father, you… you struck me?”

Emperor Zhengyuan was furious to his core. He slammed his palm on the table. “Return to your residence at once… cough, cough… return to your residence and copy out the Classic of Filial Piety one hundred times! You are not to leave the residence until every copy is done!”

Tears flooded her eyes rapidly, blurring everything before her. Her Imperial Father was only a few steps away, yet Anle felt the distance between them was impossibly vast.

The tears fell. Anle covered her face and turned to run.

Li Qin, no matter how furious Anle had made him, could not simply let her go. He immediately instructed a small eunuch: “Follow her quickly — don’t let the princess do something foolish in her rage!”

Emperor Zhengyuan stared at the top of the staircase for a long while, then sank down into his seat with a defeated air and let out a long sigh.

Anle’s words had struck him like a blunt club, landing squarely on his head.

Had he truly been a failed father? He had gone to such lengths, had been strict and harsh with the Crown Prince, precisely because he did not want the Crown Prince to stray down the wrong path.

Yet in the eyes of his own children, he was no longer even worthy of being called a father…

The one son and one daughter born of the Empress — they were the ones Emperor Zhengyuan had doted on from childhood, kept closest to his heart. How could it have come to this…

Had he truly been wrong to place the Crown Prince under house arrest? Was the Crown Prince’s situation today truly a result of his own poor instruction?

For the first time, Emperor Zhengyuan began to doubt himself.

It was then that Li Qin brought over a cup of hot tea and said quietly: “Imperial Father’s heart toward the Crown Prince is one of painstaking devotion. It is only because Anle cares so deeply that her judgment is clouded. When the Crown Prince is back on the right path, Anle will come to understand your good intentions.”

Li Qin meant every word of it.

Good and bad can only be discerned through comparison. The difference in how Imperial Father treated the Crown Prince versus how he treated his other, lower-born sons was enormous. The Crown Prince had received the finest education from childhood — the very best tutors in the Eastern Palace. Even in the matter of the Yellow River floods, which were such a grave affair, the punishment had been nothing more than house arrest. Had any other imperial prince made the same mistake, Imperial Father might well have stripped him of his princely title entirely.

Emperor Zhengyuan’s heart eased somewhat upon hearing Li Qin’s words.

He was the Crown Prince’s father — what sort of grudge could a father bear against his own son, that he would place him under house arrest just to harm him deliberately? Everyone blamed him for being hard-hearted. Why did no one understand the painstaking devotion behind his actions?

It was fortunate that the Seventh understood.

—

Princess Anle ran all the way out of the palace and into her carriage, where she wept bitterly.

Why had things between Imperial Father and the Crown Prince, and between Imperial Father and herself, come to this? In the past, their family had never once quarreled.

She was truly afraid — afraid that things would continue this way, until every last bond of kinship between them withered away.

She had been plagued by nightmares all these days. She dreamed of the stories of deposed crown princes recorded in the history books. Different stories, yet all of them wore the same face — the Crown Prince’s face.

Emperors who drove their crown princes to death, crown princes who rebelled against their emperors… the things written in those histories seemed as though they might unfold before her eyes before long. That was why she had been fighting desperately to beg Imperial Father to release the Crown Prince — to prove to herself that her fears were overblown.

Would Imperial Father and the Crown Prince one day come to the point of turning on each other for the Dragon Throne?

Anle dared not let herself think it. For the first time, she had pushed her head out over the high flower-laden walls she had grown up within, and a new world — cruel, but real — revealed itself before her.

The time had come for her to grow up.

The two words human life were the most brutal of all — they transformed innocence into shrewdness, turned romance into worldliness, changed carefree living into scheming and strife.

Princess Anle’s long childhood came to a sudden end on this day.

Anle at last stopped her weeping and made up her mind. At that moment, a handmaiden spoke from outside the carriage: “Your Highness, your husband has come looking for you.”

Anle lifted the curtain and saw Yang Fang hurrying out of the Danfeng Gate, rushing toward her, his expression one of acute anxiety.

Anle knew that the Yang Family had no wish to be entangled with the Crown Prince. Since the Crown Prince had been placed under house arrest, the Yang Family had not once interceded on his behalf.

She regarded Yang Fang with cold eyes, then turned her head away and gave the order in a cool voice: “Go to the Cui Family.”

The one who could help — and was willing to help the Crown Prince — was Cui Jinzhi.

Princess Anle’s carriage lurched into motion and sped away. Yang Fang, who had rushed over in such haste, was left with a face full of dust, staring after the carriage as it departed without a backward glance.

—

Duke Cuiguo’s Mansion was situated in Huaining Ward, occupying an entire stretch of Wende Lane. Its black gates were shut tight, exuding a desolation that followed the passing of its former grandeur. Along the broad expanse of Wende Lane, not a sound could be heard — making the clatter of Anle’s carriage and horses distinctly conspicuous.

Yet in years gone by, the area outside Duke Cuiguo’s Mansion had been the most lively place in all of Chang’an — an endless stream of officials coming to pay their respects, gates thronged with visitors, carriages and horses arriving day and night without ceasing.

The open ground at the entrance where horses and carriages had once waited now lay quietly overgrown with wild grass, spreading and sprawling in abundance.

Princess Anle was welcomed into Duke Cuiguo’s Mansion. She passed through a courtyard that was orderly but bereft of life, and entered the main hall with its black tiles and red pillars.

A stifling, sunken gloom — that was Anle’s first impression of this residence.

The entire mansion was like a great beast on the verge of death — its frame still broad, still capable of conjuring the formidable might it had once possessed; yet its flesh was slowly shrinking, its form gradually bowing, and even the mightiest of beasts will reach the day when it can no longer move, left only to await death.

Anle waited a moment before Cui Jinzhi came hurrying in. He had just been practicing his swordsmanship at the training ground and still wore a form-fitting black outfit. After entering the main hall and offering a greeting, he went directly to the point: “Has Your Highness come with a matter to attend to?”

The black clothing made his complexion appear even paler, yet his gaze was deeper than before, carrying a cold and sharp quality.

It seemed he had already merged with this solitary residence — there was upon him an air of fierce, desperate struggle against a death he refused to accept.

In Anle’s memory, Cui Jinzhi had always been a figure of resplendent clarity, like a jade tree. She was momentarily taken aback — until Cui Jinzhi’s frown prompted her to recall her purpose.

She said anxiously: “The Crown Prince has been placed under house arrest — you must quickly find a way to have him released soon! Today is Imperial Father’s birthday, and so many people have interceded on the Crown Prince’s behalf. Yet every time someone mentions the Crown Prince, Imperial Father loses his temper. Even I… even I was reprimanded by him!”

Cui Jinzhi, upon hearing this, glanced at Princess Anle. Seeing that her eyes were red-rimmed, he surmised she must have been subjected to the Emperor’s scolding today.

“Your Highness, do not think of speaking on the Crown Prince’s behalf right now. His Majesty is at the height of his anger — the more the Crown Prince is mentioned, the angrier His Majesty will become.”

Anle grew agitated, taken aback by Cui Jinzhi’s attitude: “But if even I stop helping the Crown Prince, what is to become of him?”

Cui Jinzhi raised a hand to stop Anle’s words. “His Majesty has always taken a hard line in matters of governance. He said three months of house arrest — it will not be shortened by a single day. We need only wait quietly for the Crown Prince to emerge.”

Hold steady the forces we currently have in hand, then lie low and stay quiet. Do not provoke the Emperor further. When the Crown Prince comes out, we regroup and start anew.

Cui Jinzhi continued: “As for you, Your Highness — you need not do anything beyond the ordinary. Simply devote yourself to serving the Emperor with filial piety. You and the Crown Prince share the same mother. The more you appear before the Emperor, even if you never mention the Crown Prince once, your very presence will constantly remind His Majesty of the Crown Prince’s good qualities.”

What else could one count on Anle to accomplish? She could offer no real assistance in political matters.

But unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Anle lowered her head and let out a sigh. “I… I just had a quarrel with Imperial Father today. He scolded me severely and punished me to return home and copy scriptures.”

Cui Jinzhi let out a sigh.

Well, then. Princess Anle had gone and made things worse instead.

Cui Jinzhi thought for a moment, then suddenly said: “Has Your Highness been on good terms with Pingyang lately?”

After Pingyang and he had parted ways, she had actually gotten along quite well with Anle. Truly strange.

Anle snorted upon hearing this. She thought of how Li Shu had also scolded her today because of that Shen-somebody-Xiao. She was still fuming — she didn’t want anything to do with Li Shu for a long while!

Cui Jinzhi pinched the center of his palm, and his gaze grew cold. “Your Highness, if you truly wish to help the Crown Prince, you might spend more time with Pingyang. If you notice anything unusual in her movements, report it to me promptly — that alone would be a great service to the Crown Prince.”

Anle was momentarily startled.

What did he mean by that? It sounded as though Pingyang and the Crown Prince were on opposing sides.

But Cui Jinzhi had already dropped his gaze, staring at the smooth, mirror-polished stone floor. The expression in his eyes was obscure and difficult to read — as though it were cold calculation, yet also as though it held a thread of the lingering attachment from days gone by — blending into a complex, layered feeling.

Anle thought for a moment. “Pingyang hasn’t been up to much lately. Recently, when the Seventh Prince went to manage the Yellow River, she donated quite a substantial amount of grain and money.”

Other princes and princesses had also donated grain and money, but Li Shu’s contribution was exceptionally large, given that she had more wealth than most. And so Emperor Zhengyuan had praised her particularly.

Anle suddenly remembered something else and quickly added: “There’s one more thing — I happened to overhear something today. It seems Imperial Father is considering arranging a marriage for Pingyang.”

When Anle had rushed into the small pavilion, Li Qin and Emperor Zhengyuan had been in the middle of discussing Li Shu’s marriage — and she had caught a fragment of it.

Cui Jinzhi was momentarily stunned, his face immediately going ashen. “Arranged marriage? To whom?”

Anle shook her head. “I don’t know.”

After a brief silence, Cui Jinzhi finally noticed that his hand had been gripping the armrest of the chair with great force.

For a divorced woman to remarry was simply the natural order of things — why did he care so much? Yet somewhere in his heart, a quiet voice said that he did not wish to see Li Shu remarry.

Still, Li Shu remarrying was almost an impossibility. For there existed in the court virtually no official who was both worthy of matching her station and who would not invite the Emperor’s suspicion. Li Shu’s options for remarriage were extraordinarily narrow — even if Emperor Zhengyuan wished to arrange a match for her, he would be hard pressed to find a suitable candidate.

Yet this matter was nonetheless engraved sharply in Cui Jinzhi’s heart.

But a piece of news a few days later brought Cui Jinzhi to immediate alertness.

On the day of court assembly, after Shen Xiao had finished presenting his official report, he heard Emperor Zhengyuan ask, in what seemed like a casual, jesting tone: “Beloved Subject Shen is no longer young — has he made a betrothal agreement with any young woman yet?”

Shen Xiao, that confirmed old bachelor, was something of a landmark in the court. Some had tried to arrange marriages with him; others mocked him for being unable to find a wife. The fact that a man of his age had yet to marry was a subject that people would bring up from time to time for a bit of teasing. So when Emperor Zhengyuan mentioned it offhandedly, it did not raise particular suspicion.

But Cui Jinzhi had only just heard the news of Li Shu’s impending arranged marriage a few days prior. Now, hearing Emperor Zhengyuan’s remark — so clearly freighted with implication — he had an inescapable sense that the two things were connected.

He lay in wait in the shadows, sniffing the air for even the faintest trace of his enemy’s presence, linking together speculative, elusive pieces of information into a possible truth —

His Majesty intended to betroth Shen Xiao to Li Shu.

Cui Jinzhi’s gaze turned instantly cold.

If Li Shu was to remarry no matter what, the one she married absolutely could not be Shen Xiao. They had been colluding to undermine the Eastern Palace even before they were wed — if they actually married, what then?

And beyond that — there was also Cui Jinzhi’s private, selfish reason: Li Shu had a close relationship with Shen Xiao. No matter whom else Li Shu married, Cui Jinzhi could be certain that Li Shu’s heart would not be moved. But with Shen Xiao — that he dared not be certain of.

Cui Jinzhi gave a cold laugh. That the Emperor harbored the thought of having Shen Xiao marry a princess told him one thing: the Emperor trusted Shen Xiao implicitly.

Why such complete trust? Simply because Shen Xiao was a solitary, upright official — beholden to no one, loyal to the Emperor alone.

But what if the Emperor were to suddenly discover that this solitary, upright official whom he so relied upon had, in secret, long since developed feelings of quite a different nature — what would the Emperor then think?

The former Left Deputy Minister of the Ministry of Works, the former Prince Consort of Princess Pingyang — Cui Jinzhi — suddenly submitted an impeachment memorial, directing its thrust squarely at his own former wife:

Princess Pingyang kept a male consort and was lacking in private virtue and conduct; she had participated in the grading of examination papers, compromising the fairness of the imperial examinations.

Whether the male consort or the examination — both charges pointed to the same person: Shen Xiao, Remonstrating Counselor of the Department of the Imperial Secretariat.

—