Late October, outside the Hall of Containing the Prime.

The weather had grown increasingly cold, and rain came seldom — the air carried a dry, frigid edge. In a few days it would be the Cold Dew solar term. The mornings were already quite biting; the season had come to change into padded garments.

Li Shu had entered the palace in haste, and was dressed in only a single layer — having now stood outside the Hall of Containing the Prime for just under half an hour, she felt the chill seeping into her body from all directions. When had it ever been necessary for her to wait this long just to request an audience with Imperial Father?

At last the hall doors swung open, and an imperial physician from the Imperial Medical Office stepped out carrying his medicine chest. Liu Cou walked a few steps with the physician, then turned and looked at Li Shu. “The physician came to take His Majesty’s routine pulse. Your Highness has waited long.”

Li Shu followed Liu Cou into the Hall of Containing the Prime and through to the eastern side chamber, where Imperial Father sat cross-legged on the daybed by the window, eyes closed, leaning against a cushion embroidered with five bats.

There was a medicinal smell in the chamber, though Li Shu could not identify what particular medicine it was.

This year had seen too many affairs of state — Imperial Father had been too occupied, and his health had already been declining compared to before. At the birthday banquet a few days ago, he had been made so dizzy with rage by Anle that he had been taking medicine ever since.

Li Shu lowered her head and silently sighed within herself:

If she ever dared to speak to Imperial Father in such a manner, she would never set foot through the palace gates again for the rest of her life.

The charge of “cultivating relationships with court officials and forming factional alliances” that now rested on her shoulders — if it had fallen upon Anle, it would have been something a little coquettishness and clinging could have resolved.

Such was fate — there was no use envying anyone.

Li Shu took a cup of tea from Liu Cou’s hands, set it on the small table beside the daybed, and then knelt in a composed and upright manner at Emperor Zhengyuan’s feet.

Seeing this, Liu Cou withdrew all the attendants from the chamber, closed the hall doors firmly, and left only the father and daughter alone.

Emperor Zhengyuan opened his eyelids slightly and looked down at her. “Pingyang, why do you kneel?”

As though he were utterly unaware of Cui Jinzhi’s impeachment memorial.

Li Shu drew a deep breath. She understood that Imperial Father wished to hear what she could say in her own defense.

If she could explain it, if she could smooth it over — this matter would pass. If she could not explain it, if she could not smooth it over — her standing in Imperial Father’s favor would have reached its end. To say nothing of whatever consequences Shen Xiao might suffer.

Li Shu said: “Cui Jinzhi has stated that this subject participated in the grading of examination papers with the suspected intent of covertly assisting Shen Xiao. This charge, this subject does not accept.”

She spoke at a measured pace, ensuring that every word she uttered could withstand scrutiny, that no word contained any weakness.

“Shen Xiao was nominated by local recommendation from Wuxing and then came to Chang’an to sit the spring examinations, after which he was placed among the top three graduates. The papers of the top three candidates were sent to your desk, and it was Imperial Father’s own hand that determined the final ranking of the graduates.”

“Whether at the local recommendation in Wuxing or at the spring examinations presided over by the Ministry of Revenue, this subject has had no involvement whatsoever. Imperial Father may have people investigate as thoroughly as he wishes — this subject’s hands are entirely clean. Moreover, even if this subject truly wished to interfere, why would one go to the trouble of cultivating someone like Shen Xiao? After the spring examinations, the presiding examiner, Lord Xiao, had placed Shen Xiao at the very bottom of the third-tier graduates — the lowest ranking among three hundred graduates. A person of such placement, even if he did receive an official post, could at most be sent to some remote, impoverished region as a county assistant. Would this subject go through the painstaking effort of interfering in the imperial examinations simply to befriend a county assistant?”

“The papers of the top three candidates were sent to your desk, and it was you who ultimately determined the final rankings. On that day when this subject came to pay her respects to Imperial Father, your table was covered in papers, and you asked this subject to look through the examination papers chosen for this round as well. Only then did this subject first come into contact with those papers. After briefly leafing through the examination files, this subject found that among the top three, all were familiar faces — either the eldest son of one family or the collateral branch of another. Of the three hundred papers, only ten names were unfamiliar to this subject, who surmised they must have come from families of lesser standing. This subject therefore selected those papers and specifically brought them to your attention — and among them was Shen Xiao’s paper.”

“If this subject is said to have done anything that constituted interference with the examinations, it was no more than selecting those ten papers. If Cui Jinzhi uses this as grounds to impeach this subject for interfering with the fairness of the examinations, then this subject has nothing more to say, and can only plead guilty.”

This was precisely what Cui Jinzhi’s impeachment had targeted.

Li Shu had indeed handled Shen Xiao’s examination paper at the time — yet all she had done was place it before Emperor Zhengyuan. The final determination of rankings rested entirely with the Emperor himself.

Moreover, Li Shu’s act of selecting the papers of candidates from humble backgrounds aligned perfectly with Emperor Zhengyuan’s own intentions — the Emperor had broadened the imperial examinations precisely because he wished to recruit men of lesser families to counterbalance the great clans. For the presiding examiner to steadfastly suppress the rankings of those from humble backgrounds was to slap the Emperor in the face.

Even had Li Shu not selected those ten papers, Imperial Father would have singled them out himself to review separately. Shen Xiao’s examination essays on the classics had been exceptional to begin with — in the end, he would certainly have been appointed top graduate regardless.

Whatever Li Shu’s involvement or lack thereof, the ultimate outcome would not have changed.

Cui Jinzhi’s impeachment simply did not hold up.

Li Shu continued: “As for Cui Jinzhi’s impeachment charge of this subject keeping a male consort…”

She gave a dismissive laugh. “This subject has had no shortage of such companions over these past years — too many to count. Whether or not Shen Xiao’s name appears among them, this subject genuinely cannot recall. If Cui Jinzhi says it is so, then so be it.”

Li Shu spoke with casual ease, her entire manner one of complete indifference.

The matter of keeping a companion — she had arranged it at the time through the Wuxing County Magistrate. If Imperial Father wished to investigate, it would be discovered without difficulty. She and Shen Xiao had had that sort of relationship; this she could not deny.

The best way to conceal something was to hide a single tree within a forest, to hide a single drop of water within the ocean.

Cui Jinzhi was impeaching her for conduct unbecoming in private life? Then let her conduct be even less becoming. A princess with so many companions — who would go to the trouble of remembering any particular name?

Emperor Zhengyuan’s gaze flickered. He looked at Li Shu kneeling at his feet and recalled the self-exonerating memorial Shen Xiao had presented that morning.

Shen Xiao had candidly admitted to the matter of serving as a male consort, stating plainly that he had done so at the time in order to seek an official position, but that the princess had gone back on her word. From that point on, he had harbored resentment toward Princess Pingyang. Afterward, when he entered official service, his very first act as a Censor had been to impeach Li Shu; even the later incident of allowing his soldiers to seize Li Shu’s grain was, while ostensibly a matter of public duty, also a means of venting personal grievances.

His memorial not only voluntarily acknowledged his relationship with Li Shu, but described the nature of that relationship in decidedly antagonistic terms.

Cui Jinzhi was accusing them of forming an alliance? They could hardly be said to have avoided becoming outright enemies.

Both accounts aligned in every point and contained no concealment.

Emperor Zhengyuan’s expression eased somewhat.

Emperor Zhengyuan valued Li Shu not only for her intelligence, but also because Li Shu was by nature aloof and had little dealings with the circles of the powerful in Chang’an. Likewise, this was why Shen Xiao had been able to rise so rapidly. The great clans ran their networks deep, and Emperor Zhengyuan had been constrained by them throughout his reign — he therefore detested factionalism among those who served him.

The suspicion in the Emperor’s heart diminished slightly. The coldness on his face receded, and he said: “The ground is cold in this weather, and kneeling too long is hard on the knees. Come, sit down.”

Setting aside the authority of a sovereign, he once again became the appearance of a caring father.

Li Shu let out a quiet breath of relief, rose, and said: “This subject thanks Imperial Father.”

She sat on the daybed, and beneath her wide sleeves her hands rested on her knees, warming the cold there.

Cui Jinzhi has made a blundering move, Li Shu thought.

This impeachment memorial of his could not withstand scrutiny at all — for Li Shu to clear her name was no great difficulty.

Yet the question was: why had Cui Jinzhi made such a blundering move? Had he been driven to desperation and so acted recklessly, simply wanting to bring Li Shu down by any means? No — Cui Jinzhi was not such a foolish person.

What, truly, was the purpose behind this memorial?

The less she could determine, the more Li Shu found it frightening. An uneasy premonition stirred quietly within her — yet she could not discern from where exactly that unease originated.

Liu Cou brought over a cup of tea. Li Shu held it and drank a sip, pressing down the unease in her heart somewhat — and then she heard Emperor Zhengyuan beside her remark, as though idly: “This forty-second birthday has just passed, yet We already feel that We have grown old.”

Li Shu quickly smiled. “What words are these, Imperial Father? You are still as vigorous and strong as ever.”

Emperor Zhengyuan let out a sigh. “In the blink of an eye, all of you children have grown so large — is that not aging? Take Jincheng, for instance. We remember the last time We saw her, she seemed only this tall.”

Emperor Zhengyuan gestured to indicate a very small height, then continued: “Yet at the recent palace banquet, We looked again and realized she has already come of age. Among so many princesses, she is ranked near the last — and yet, you see, is that not evidence that We have grown old?”

Li Shu felt a subtle twitch at her brow.

With so many princesses in the inner palace, when had Imperial Father ever taken specific notice of Jincheng?

Now that Imperial Father had mentioned coming of age, it was plainly evident he was thinking of arranging a marriage for Jincheng. And whom was he thinking of marrying Jincheng to?

Li Shu naturally aligned herself with Emperor Zhengyuan’s line of thought. “Indeed, younger sister Jincheng has grown into a young woman. When I was that age, I was on the verge of leaving the palace to establish my own residence. It is also time to find a good husband for younger sister Jincheng.”

Li Shu smiled and ventured carefully: “Has Imperial Father set his eyes on someone to serve as a son-in-law?”

Emperor Zhengyuan considered for a moment, then spoke directly: “We think Shen Xiao is quite suitable.”

He leaned back against the cushion, his gaze of unclear meaning coming to rest on Li Shu. “What does Quebird think?”

Li Shu’s grip on the teacup tightened in an instant. Her slender fingers pressed down hard, the tips going white, as though she could no longer feel the heat.

Imperial Father is testing her.

You two appear to be above board — but what exactly is the truth of it?

Emperor Zhengyuan had originally considered having Shen Xiao become Li Shu’s husband. But the entire premise rested on the two of them having had no prior connection. Now that they clearly did have a connection, the Emperor no longer wanted them together — otherwise it would feel as though he was doing as someone else wished.

The art of ruling: the same thing, I may bestow, but you may not covet.

Li Shu drew upon nearly the full force of her being to suppress the emotions surging within her, enough to keep her expression unchanged.

She smiled, not knowing how she managed to say these words: “Lord Shen and younger sister Jincheng are a perfect match — a union made by Heaven itself.”

Emperor Zhengyuan nodded. “Jincheng’s mother holds a low rank, and the Empress has not been appearing in public lately. You are her elder sister and the most composed among them — pay more attention to her marriage. These next few days, go and lay the groundwork first. Once the time is right, We can issue the imperial decree.”

Beneath her wide sleeves, Li Shu’s concealed hand closed into a fist. Her fingernails dug into her palm. Into a palm already scarred — another mark was added.

Li Shu nodded and smiled. “This subject understands.”

Was Imperial Father truly intending to use Jincheng as a pawn in a political marriage with a family of humble origin? Or was this merely a means of testing Shen Xiao and Li Shu’s integrity?

Li Shu genuinely could not tell, not at this moment.

But regardless of whether the Emperor would ultimately go through with the arranged marriage — as long as this intention had been made known, Li Shu would have to go about the matchmaking with the appearance of delight, and Shen Xiao would have to express his gratitude as though deeply moved.

Otherwise… there would be no disguising a guilty heart.

A small eunuch opened the doors of the Hall of Containing the Prime. Li Shu stepped over the threshold and walked out, and was met head-on by a cold gust of wind that stirred her somewhat thin garments, revealing beneath them the lean ridge of her spine.

The Cold Dew season was approaching, the sky turning cold and the wind bitter. Hereafter it would be a long, drawn-out winter. All that had been in spring’s tender stirring, in summer’s fierce ardor, in autumn’s abundant fullness — all of it was about to disperse.

—

By all convention, memorials from court officials were to pass through the Department of the Imperial Secretariat — that is, through Shen Xiao’s hands. Yet Cui Jinzhi had, after all, once been an official of the Eastern Palace’s retinue, and was also a pillar figure of the great clans. His web of influence in the court ran deep. Wishing to submit a memorial, he had officials who could bypass the Department of the Imperial Secretariat on his behalf and deliver it directly to Emperor Zhengyuan’s desk.

Never mind what Remonstrating Counselor he faced — even if Shen Xiao were to become the third-rank Director of the Department of the Imperial Secretariat, they could still act in complete disregard of him.

Shen Xiao had thought himself to have risen quite high. But Cui Jinzhi’s memorial had dragged him back to reality: there were in fact many things still beyond his power to do.

For instance, in this affair, he had been unable to intercept the memorial. He had been unable to protect Li Shu.

Word had it that she had entered the palace today — he did not know whether the Emperor would scold and condemn her because of this.

Shen Xiao sat in his sedan chair and gave an order in a flat, hoarse voice: “Xiankelai.”

He knew full well that the moment called most for him to keep his distance from her — yet he simply could not stop himself. He wanted to see her.

The sedan chair had traveled halfway there when it was stopped on Zhuque Avenue.

Shen Xiao parted the curtain and found himself looking up at the high, imperious eyes of Cui Jinzhi on horseback — who had been staring at him for a long moment before slowly breaking into a smile.

Shen Xiao stepped out of the sedan; Cui Jinzhi dismounted. Both walked a few paces toward each other. On the vibrant and bustling Zhuque Avenue, a silent, slaughterhouse tension formed between the two of them.

Cui Jinzhi was now a commoner, yet he offered Shen Xiao not a trace of a bow. Instead, his phoenix eyes glanced sideways with a slight upward tilt, the corners carrying a smile of obscure meaning. Whenever he smiled, he still had the appearance of that carefree, dashing young man about the capital’s finest streets.

“Lord Shen has quite the composure — even at a time like this, he still has the leisure to stroll on Zhuque Avenue?”

Shen Xiao was far more austere and cold than him, with not the slightest trace of a smile on his face. He enunciated each word with deliberate clarity and decision: “I conduct myself with a clear conscience. Why should I not walk about freely?”

Cui Jinzhi heard this, extended a hand, and clapped slowly. “Fine composure, indeed.” Every note of that applause dripped with sarcasm.

A clear conscience? Does the Emperor believe you.

Shen Xiao’s dark irises were as deep as ink — impossible to read for emotion. He simply fixed his gaze on Cui Jinzhi and said one thing: “If you wish to come against me, you should not involve her in it.”

Cui Jinzhi had not truly wished to impeach Li Shu — he had simply used her as a lever, redirecting the thrust of his attack toward Shen Xiao. Yet in doing so, he had tossed Li Shu out as bait, exposed her private affairs before all the court’s officials, and stripped her of every last shred of face — both public and private. Former husband and wife they may have been, and whatever affection may have long since faded — he should not have been so ruthlessly cruel to Li Shu.

There were many feelings Li Shu kept buried in her heart without speaking of — but that did not mean she felt no pain.

“Her?”

Cui Jinzhi said coldly: “Lord Shen says the name with such familiarity.”

He stepped forward, meeting Shen Xiao’s gaze at eye level, his expression one of mockery: “Lord Shen, you said one thing wrong.”

“This memorial was not directed at you.”

“The time for that has not yet come.”

With a single impeachment memorial of insufficient evidence, bring down Shen Xiao — the paragon of men from humble origins? Cui Jinzhi was not so naive.

Li Shu and Shen Xiao being able to clear their names — Cui Jinzhi had foreseen this even before submitting the memorial. In truth, this impeachment memorial had only one purpose: to remind Emperor Zhengyuan that Li Shu and Shen Xiao perhaps had a relationship.

Whether it was true — that was of no importance. What mattered was this perhaps, which alone could make the ever-suspicious and cautious Emperor abandon the idea of arranging a marriage.

If one memorial could achieve that — it was enough.

Li Shu and Shen Xiao had collaborated on multiple occasions, built mutual trust, and had already become a sound alliance. Cui Jinzhi could not sit by and watch them continue to develop.

He needed to obstruct this alliance from continuing to cooperate further — and even… to sow discord within it, causing it to fracture and dissolve on its own.

When their alliance broke apart and each went their separate way — that would be the true moment for him to act.

Cui Jinzhi curved his lips, looked at Shen Xiao, and let out a small laugh. “Lord Shen, take good care of yourself.”

The days ahead are long.

Shen Xiao watched Cui Jinzhi leap onto his horse and ride away without a backward glance. A sense of unease settled within him — yet he could not say from what direction it came.

Something was going to happen.

The sedan chair arrived at Xiankelai. Shen Xiao went upstairs and entered the Golden Jade Chamber, where he sat quietly by the window. He waited until midafternoon before the sound of steady carriage wheels came from outside. Shen Xiao’s gaze fell downward, and he saw Li Shu’s carriage gradually come to a stop.

A handmaiden helped her out of the carriage. She seemed to sense something — she looked up toward the third floor.

The distance was somewhat far, and Shen Xiao could not clearly make out Li Shu’s expression. But he smiled at her nonetheless — just as he had on so many occasions when he had seen her before.

At that moment, Shen Xiao did not yet know what news he was about to hear from Li Shu, nor what manner of choice he would have to face.

Author’s Note: Regarding examination papers on which the candidate’s name could be read directly — in the early Tang dynasty, the imperial examination papers were not sealed. It was not until the Song dynasty that papers began to be sealed and then recopied by hand, to reduce the risk of examiners showing favoritism.

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