The underfloor heating in the Empress’s bedchamber was burning bright, but the weather had turned cold and dry of late, making the hall feel even more parched than usual.

The Empress reclined against the luohan daybed, still dressed in the stately splendor of her court robes, though the hairpins and ornaments had all been removed. A handmaid stood behind her, pressing steadily at the acupoints along the crown of her head.

Managing the six palaces was no easy task, and the year-end brought its own heavy burdens. When the Crown Prince had been confined to his quarters earlier, the Empress had been caught up in the affair as well — she too had been confined to the central palace for a time. Through those days and nights, a mother’s heart had known no rest, and her vital energy had depleted considerably as a result.

Since then, whenever matters grew even slightly demanding, the Empress found her body could no longer keep pace, and headaches came inevitably.

As the handmaid worked the acupoints at her crown, the Empress spoke to the Crown Princess across from her on the other side of the low table. “You have been laboring hard of late.”

Crown Princess Zheng Shi smiled from her seat across the daybed. “To ease the burdens of the Empress Mother — what labor is there in that?”

The Empress nodded. “True enough. Learning how to host palace banquets and manage the inner court — all of this is what you ought to be learning. The sooner you help me with these matters, the less you will find yourself at a loss later on.”

The Emperor’s health was failing by the day; that the Crown Prince would ascend the throne was as certain as nails hammered into wood. The Crown Princess would sooner or later become the mistress of the inner court, so it was only natural that she should begin learning to manage the six palaces early.

The Crown Princess understood what lay beneath those words. “I still depend on the Empress Mother’s guidance.”

The Crown Prince had been confined for three months, yet after his release, his influence had grown ever more formidable — like the sun at its zenith. As they say: when one road is blocked, another opens.

With the Crown Prince’s affairs looking stable for now, the Empress had one less matter to worry over. The only remaining concern was Princess Anle.

The Empress asked, “Why has the Crown Prince suddenly transferred Yang Fang to the Court of the Imperial Clan? I could see plainly that Anle did not look pleased just now.”

The Crown Princess was silent a moment before she replied, “Yang Fuma was never much involved in court affairs to begin with. The Crown Prince thought the Court of the Imperial Clan a relaxed posting, well-suited for him, and so had him promoted into it.”

Yet the Empress, upon hearing this, only knit her brows. “Enough of that. Do I not already know what is in the Crown Prince’s mind?”

A mother knew her own son’s temperament well enough — he was not a man of generous heart.

In truth, the Empress herself was not entirely satisfied with Yang Fang’s choice to stand aside and offer no assistance to the Crown Prince. But Yang Fang was Anle’s husband — to make things difficult for him was to make things difficult for Anle.

A son and a daughter — both were flesh of her flesh, dear to her equally.

The Empress said, “Whatever the case, spare a thought for Anle’s feelings. Do not let this matter ruin the harmony between husband and wife.”

“The Empress Mother’s reproof is just; this daughter-in-law has erred. However…”

The Crown Princess paused. “But in truth, from what I have observed, Anle does not seem very fond of Yang Fuma either. There is a matter I have been turning over in my mind — might I speak of it to the Empress Mother and seek her counsel?”

“Yang Fuma’s family background is not especially distinguished; marrying a princess was already his family marrying above their station. His Majesty originally chose this match because Yang Fang’s character and learning were acceptable, and because he cherished Anle dearly. Yet over these past few years, we have all seen with our own eyes that the affection between Anle and her husband is not harmonious. It is said that feelings grow with time — yet they have been wed several years now, and not the slightest feeling has grown between them.”

“In the past, this daughter-in-law also believed that Yang Fuma treated Anle well. But this recent matter has shown his true nature: when the Crown Prince was confined, Yang Fuma did not speak a single good word on his behalf. The Crown Prince is Anle’s own elder brother. If her own brother loses his position, how could life be easy for Anle? Yet Yang Fang simply stood by and watched. If one truly claims that Yang Fang cares for his wife Anle, this daughter-in-law simply cannot believe it.”

The Crown Princess sighed. “This daughter-in-law thinks it would not be unwise to find some pretext to allow Anle to dissolve the marriage. With so many promising young men in the court, is there truly no one more suitable to be found?”

There was never an end to those one wished to draw into one’s faction; the most unshakeable bonds were always those of marriage. A full-blooded younger sister like Anle was naturally meant to be offered in marriage where she could serve a proper purpose.

What room was there for true sentiment? In the arena of power, when the moment came to make use of someone, not even bonds of family counted for anything.

“This…”

The Empress heard these words and could only hesitate.

When Emperor Zhengyuan had chosen Yang Fang for Anle, he had wished for Anle to live the plain, contented life of an ordinary couple. Anle had been indulged until her very nature was shaped by it — she was entirely unsuited to involve herself in politics. A man like Yang Fang, one who kept himself aloof from strife, was precisely what suited her best.

They could replace her husband, of course — find a man of higher rank and greater family prestige than Yang Fang. But would such a man truly be right for Anle?

The Empress was not like the Crown Princess; naturally, she thought more of Anle’s wellbeing. She was deep in her reflections when a clamor suddenly erupted outside the hall.

“How dare you, you wretched servant! You dare stop me!”

The voice was clear and crisp as water over pebbles — who else could it be but Princess Anle?

Outside, the voice of a handmaid could be heard, low and placating, trying to hold her back with a murmured “Please allow this servant to announce your arrival first” — but who would truly dare stop Princess Anle? In a moment, Anle had slipped past the folding screen and swept into the side chamber.

The Crown Princess furrowed her brow. She had been raised in a great household, strictly schooled in decorum, every word and gesture the model of a proper lady — she had never once put a foot wrong. For this reason, she had never much liked Anle at heart.

Had Li Shu not stood on the opposite side from her, she would honestly have preferred someone like Li Shu — sharp-witted, perceptive, adept at calculation.

For naivety was merely another word for foolishness, and willfulness merely another word for recklessness.

But the Crown Princess smiled nonetheless, rose, and moved forward to take Anle’s arm. “Little sister Anle, why such haste? Were you worried about the Empress Mother’s health? You—”

The Crown Princess had not finished speaking before the hand she had stretched out was struck sharply away. Anle had no sense of restraint; the Crown Princess had delicate skin, and the back of her hand was instantly marked with a red welt.

Anle’s expression was coldly hard — a rare thing for her. She fixed her gaze on the Crown Princess and said, “Because Yang Fang was of no use to you, you gave him a useless posting.”

“I am of no use to you either — my only value is that I can be offered up in a political marriage. So you intend to make use of me too.”

She stared fixedly at the Crown Princess. “Am I wrong?”

The world was collapsing before her eyes, yet she kept them wide open, as though trying desperately to see clearly the true face of every person around her.

The words Li Shu had spoken still rang in her ears.

“Political interests shift with every passing wind, but ties of marriage and blood are always the most unshakeable. The Crown Prince has already shown open displeasure with Yang Fang — how could he allow him to go on occupying the fine position of prince consort for nothing? What makes you think you are a haven untouched by politics?”

Perhaps the image of a naive and foolish Anle had been so deeply fixed in the Crown Princess’s mind that, faced with this cold and sharp-edged version of her, the Crown Princess was momentarily caught off guard.

In that brief moment of daze, Anle pushed the Crown Princess aside and stepped up to the edge of the luohan daybed.

Compared with her frantic fury the last time she had quarreled with Emperor Zhengyuan, Anle before the Empress now appeared far calmer — yet this calm more resembled the desolation of a heart that had died.

“Empress Mother, which family do you intend to marry me into?”

“Empress Mother, why do you not speak? You raised me for so many years — I truly believed you loved me. But today I have only just discovered that you raised me so that I might go and help stabilize Elder Brother Crown Prince’s position.”

“If you wished to make use of me, you need only have said so.” Her voice carried a coldness at its absolute extreme — radiating from within outward; from the Emperor, to the Crown Prince, to Cui Jinzhi, to Yang Fang. Over this long winter, everything had changed its shape.

Anle even managed a short, hollow laugh. “You need only have said so. You raised me for so many years — I suppose I ought to make some contribution.”

A tear slid from the corner of her eye, but she did not notice it. She cast one look at the Empress, then turned and walked away.

“Anle!”

The Empress called out in a sudden panic.

The image of Anle running swiftly away was seared into her eyes. She wanted to go after her, but the moment she stood, she felt her temples throb again and again.

Before she could take a single step, the world swam before her, her body drained of all strength, and she sank backward.

On the eve of the palace banquet’s opening, the Empress suddenly fell ill. The inner court was thrown into chaos; fortunately, the Crown Princess held things together, and no great disaster resulted.

Li Shu stood outside the palace hall, watching the handmaids and eunuchs hurrying back and forth. She stood there a moment, then suddenly stopped an unassuming sweeping-maid and gave instructions: “Has the Crown Princess sent anyone to summon the Crown Prince?”

The maid shook her head. “In reply to the Princess, that has not yet been done.”

Li Shu said, “The Empress has suddenly fallen ill — to see the Crown Prince would surely bring her some comfort. The Crown Princess must have forgotten in her busyness. Go — acting on my word, inform the Crown Prince of this matter.”

The sweeping-maid hesitated a moment, but Li Shu was not one to be easily trifled with, and besides, the maid’s ordinary work was coarse and rough — she had no ability to discern the political weight of what lay behind such a message.

Seeing Li Shu’s cool and distant expression, the bearing of one who would brook no argument, the maid could only assent: “This servant understands.”

*

With the noon hour drawing near, the civil and military officials of the outer court had already taken their seats. Only the imperial throne stood empty, awaiting the Emperor’s arrival before the banquet could begin.

Taking advantage of the fact that the banquet had not yet commenced, the assembled officials moved about among the tables, gathering in twos and threes to exchange whispered words; whenever they saw the Crown Prince approaching, they would hurriedly stop their conversation and bow respectfully, saying, “Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

The Crown Prince would nod in return with a smile.

The Crown Prince was dressed in his bright-yellow heir apparent’s court robes, in the prime of his years, full of vigor and high spirits; as he walked, every official nodded in greeting, and in the unspoken language of the court, he already seemed to carry the full weight of prestige and authority.

The palace banquet had been arranged entirely by the Crown Prince. He made one final round of inspection, confirmed that everything was in order, and at last set his mind at ease.

His gaze swept the hall; noticing that the Seventh Prince, Li Qin, was sitting alone at his place drinking wine, the Crown Prince strolled over unhurriedly.

Li Qin quickly rose, his manner as respectful and deferential as ever. “Your younger subject-brother pays his respects to the Crown Prince.”

The Crown Prince smiled. “I hear that Seventh Brother has been opening soup kitchens outside the city walls these past days?”

A fine opportunity he had seized — the number of common people who had benefited was very great, and he had even acquired the name of “Virtuous Prince.”

Virtuous Prince? What a laugh. Was this a veiled mockery suggesting that he, the Crown Prince of all the realm, was somehow lacking in virtue?

Truly, the moment one’s eyes were not on them, these princes below found openings to start jostling for position.

Li Qin replied, “There are many displaced people outside the city; I feared they would not survive the winter. This younger brother merely did what little he could.”

The Crown Prince fixed him with a steady gaze for a moment, then gave a cold laugh. “The southern frontier, the northern borderlands, the eastern ridges, the western wastelands — there are places aplenty for Seventh Brother to do what little he can. Seventh Brother had best conserve that little energy for now; there will be time enough later to console the people’s hardships.”

The Emperor’s health was visibly worsening by the day; the Crown Prince had received candid word from the imperial physicians — even with careful nursing, it was a matter of one or two years at most. When that day came, all the distant and desolate corners of the realm would be there to distribute among the princes.

That reputation for benevolence — it would be better saved for that time, to go and soothe the impoverished people of some barren region.

Li Qin made no argument upon hearing this; he simply bowed his head in assent, said a single “Yes,” and fell silent.

The Crown Prince had thought the Seventh had been cowed, and let his gaze cut across him like a blade. He was just about to open his mouth and add a few more cutting remarks when, unexpectedly, a eunuch suddenly came running in from outside the hall and, in a low voice, urgently reported to the Crown Prince: “Your Highness, word has come from the inner palace that the Empress’s health has taken a sudden turn for the worse. Will you go to pay your respects?”

The Crown Prince’s expression immediately grew solemn. “I will go at once.”

There was still some time before the banquet would begin — a quick trip to the inner court and back was perfectly manageable.

He gave a few hurried instructions and left Taihe Hall.

Behind him, Li Qin watched in silence as he departed, until his figure had completely vanished from sight. Then, Li Qin suddenly stepped forward and walked out.

A prince nearby asked with friendly curiosity, “Seventh Brother, where are you going?”

Li Qin called back without turning his head, “It’s stuffy inside. I’m going out for some air.”