Ever since the Protectorate was established, Li Xuandu had constantly been traveling from one place to another. The concrete day-to-day affairs that needed to be handled—logistics, personnel arrangements, and the many other tedious matters—had all been delegated to Ye Xiao. He knew that Prince Qin did not object to the Princess Consort coming and going from the council chamber, and whenever he encountered decisions that were difficult to make on his own, or paperwork he found hard to manage, he would go to ask the Princess Consort for help while Prince Qin was away.
Even so, it was still extremely busy—especially after the move to Shuang clan city, with small kingdoms pledging allegiance one after another and daily miscellaneous affairs mounting ever higher. In the preceding days when Prince Qin had gone to Yancheng, he had been run completely ragged. That evening, upon learning that Prince Qin had finally returned, he breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to go find him to report on affairs—only to be told that Prince Qin had gone straight to the polo field to look for the Princess Consort. He thought that since things stood thus, and since none of his own matters were urgently in need of reporting, there was no reason to go disturb him at such a moment. So he let it be.
He returned to his own lodgings, entered his room, and found his dear wife Ruo Yue seated at the table, working at her needlework by lamplight, so absorbed she hadn’t even noticed him come in. Only when he walked to her side did she look up, see that he had returned, and immediately rose to welcome him.
After marrying him, Ruo Yue had been working steadily to learn more spoken and written Chinese. Ye Xiao knew she had recently been busy making him clothes and shoes, and two days prior, the maid who attended her had said she didn’t seem to have much energy lately and kept dozing off during the day. Thinking of how busy he himself had been these days and how he’d somewhat neglected her, Ye Xiao felt guilty. He took the needlework from her hands and told her not to tire herself so.
He was occupied all day long, out early and back late. It was rare for him to come home early as he had today. Ruo Yue asked why, and upon learning it was because Prince Qin had returned, understood that her husband’s affairs would naturally ease up now. Happy at heart, she at once put down her needlework and joined him for dinner. After they ate and tidied up, husband and wife retired early and settled down to rest.
The night had grown deep. Ye Xiao had just closed his eyes when someone came from outside to rouse him with a message: Prince Qin was summoning him to discuss matters, and was already waiting in the council chamber.
Not knowing what had happened, he told his wife—who had been startled awake—to go back to sleep, then quickly rose and hurried over. He pushed open the door and entered.
The chamber was lit bright with candlelight, but inside there was no one else save Luo Bao standing to one side in attendance—and Prince Qin alone.
He had his back to the door and was standing before the wall on which hung the map of the Western Regions’ mountains and rivers, seeming to gaze at the map in contemplation.
After gaining control of the central route of the Western Regions, led by the Boluoguo kingdom, the Protectorate’s greatest enemy had become the Eastern Di Grand Commander’s office. This was also the Li dynasty’s direct confrontation with the Eastern Di in the Western Regions for the first time in many years—to say that the war was on the verge of breaking out was no exaggeration.
Ye Xiao guessed that Prince Qin had summoned him in the middle of the night for a discussion that must be connected to this matter. Seeing him now seemingly deep in concentrated thought, he didn’t dare make a sound to disturb him. After entering, he stopped to one side and waited patiently. After a moment, Zhang Zhuo and Han Rongchang also arrived in haste—both of them looking as though they’d just been pulled from their beds, bleary-eyed. Seeing that Ye Xiao had arrived before them and that Prince Qin was absorbed in the map on his own, Zhang Zhuo yawned and quietly asked Ye Xiao what was happening—what was all this in the middle of the night about?
Ye Xiao shook his head to say he didn’t know either. Suddenly he saw Prince Qin turn sharply around and address Han Rongchang: “Marquis Han—when we were returning from Yancheng, didn’t you ask how we ought to deal with Hufeng?”
Han Rongchang was momentarily startled, then nodded. He immediately sensed something: “Could it be that Your Highness has found a way to respond?”
Their enemy was stronger than they were; though no one was afraid, neither could they afford to be careless. Zhang Zhuo was instantly engaged, his sleepiness vanishing without a trace. He pricked up his ears to listen carefully.
Li Xuandu’s gaze swept across the faces of the men before him, and he said, one word at a time: “I have indeed come up with a strategy.”
Li Xuandu’s strategy was to send word to the Western Regions kingdoms, commanding them to gather at Shuang clan city to compete in a polo tournament.
When Zhang Zhuo heard this, he was mildly disappointed. He couldn’t help saying: “With respect for my humble view, in this subordinate’s opinion, this method, aside from intimidating the northern route kingdoms and the other central and southern route kingdoms that have pledged outwardly to our Protectorate while secretly sitting on the fence—it doesn’t serve much practical purpose against Hufeng.”
Li Xuandu, rebuffed, showed no displeasure. He merely smiled slightly and asked the men: “If you were Hufeng and received this news, what would you do in response?”
The men exchanged glances.
Ye Xiao had followed Li Xuandu for many years. Hearing his hint, he turned it over in his mind briefly—and immediately had some inkling of his intent.
His heart gave a little leap of excitement, but he was ever steady and composed, and did not speak up at once.
Han Rongchang thought for a moment, his eyes brightening with a flash of intuition: “Does Your Highness perhaps wish to use this as bait?”
Li Xuandu inclined his head: “Exactly—it is bait. The true purpose is to lure Hufeng into taking it. He lost Boluoguo from his grasp, and the pressure on him is considerable. He has long been eager to win it back. With such a fine opportunity now presenting itself, he won’t be unmoved enough to let it slip by so easily. His forces already outnumber mine; I calculate he will very likely follow the same method I used to seize Boluoguo before—use the polo tournament in Shuang clan city as an opportunity to mount a surprise attack. Once he comes, we will set an ambush, draw him into the trap, and catch him completely off guard. We will aim to wipe out his elite forces. Once he is struck down, the remaining Kunling King is nothing to fear!”
As his explanation unfolded, not only did Han Rongchang nod repeatedly, but Zhang Zhuo finally grasped it too, and cried out with delight: “Your Highness is brilliant! What a magnificent strategy you’ve devised! A polo tournament is perfect—we’ll make everything look lively and festive on our end. I don’t believe that Hufeng won’t take the bait!”
Li Xuandu gave a nod: “The single most critical step of this plan is getting Hufeng to take the bait—to make him believe this is an act by me, intoxicated by victory, seeking to expand the Protectorate’s influence. Therefore, this tournament must be conducted with tremendous fanfare and widespread momentum, making the Western Regions kingdoms likewise convinced that this is our Protectorate seizing the occasion to proclaim our military achievements, rally popular support, and overawe Hufeng.”
Ye Xiao finally could hold back no longer and offered praise: “Your Highness’s brilliant strategy—this subordinate is deeply impressed!”
As he said these words, he meant every one of them sincerely.
Li Xuandu instantly thought of Pu Zhu, and a quiet swell of pride rose in his heart. He waved his hand and said in a calm tone: “In fact, this method wasn’t my idea to begin with. It was the Princess Consort who first proposed the idea of hosting a polo tournament—it was that which led my thoughts in this direction.”
The men were startled—none of them had expected Prince Qin to suddenly say such a thing. For a moment they were at a loss for how to proceed: should they go on praising Prince Qin’s brilliant genius, or should they praise the Princess Consort’s clever wisdom? To praise the Princess Consort might steal Prince Qin’s glory. So they exchanged glances and fell into silence.
Li Xuandu had not received the reaction he had anticipated. A trace of displeasure crossed his face, and with a slight frown, he spoke again: “Had the Princess Consort not prompted me this evening, I would not have hit upon this method. Should the plan truly succeed, credit belongs first and foremost to her.”
Now everyone understood perfectly—Prince Qin was genuinely waiting for them to praise the Princess Consort. They immediately fell in with his wishes and praised the Princess Consort’s cleverness and wisdom. Zhang Zhuo even stirred the pot further: “Your Highness, doesn’t the Protectorate still lack a Chief of Staff? The Princess Consort has a distinguished scholarly lineage, knows the affairs of the Western Regions, can devise strategies for Your Highness, and her literary and administrative brush is more than capable. She even plays polo—and yes! This subordinate has heard that the Princess Consort can even speak the languages of the Western Regions. In this subordinate’s view, there is no one more suited for the post of Chief of Staff than the Princess Consort!”
Zhang Zhuo’s suggestion struck exactly the note Ye Xiao had been hoping for.
The very reason he had been so overwhelmed these past days was that the Protectorate lacked a Chief of Staff. The moment Prince Qin was gone, everything inside and out came crashing down on his own head, keeping him too busy to even catch his breath.
If the Princess Consort could truly take on the duties of Chief of Staff, then even when Prince Qin was absent from the Protectorate in the future, he himself would only need to concentrate on external defense. He would no longer have to manage everything at once as he did now, run completely ragged. And if he was honest with himself, he knew that there were certain matters he did not handle as well as the Princess Consort would.
That Zhang Zhuo—for once he had put forward a genuinely good suggestion.
Ye Xiao immediately expressed his agreement as well: “When Your Highness is absent, this subordinate has in fact asked the Princess Consort to help handle quite a number of matters. The Princess Consort, though a woman, is in this subordinate’s view without question the most suitable person to serve as Chief of Staff of the Protectorate!”
Han Rongchang heard both of them speaking well of that young woman from the Pu family in front of Prince Qin. Naturally he was not willing to be left out—and besides, he genuinely liked her. So he added his enthusiastic agreement and wholehearted endorsement.
Li Xuandu, in suddenly bringing up Pu Zhu earlier, had merely felt the impulse of a man who has hidden away a pearl, or who wears fine robes only in the dark of night—he couldn’t quite contain it, and had wanted to show her off a little in front of his subordinates. He hadn’t expected them to raise such a proposal.
If he agreed, she would certainly be appearing in public even more from now on—and a part of him was reluctant.
But then he reconsidered: if she became Chief of Staff, not only at night but also during the day he could legitimately have her by his side. He imagined that in the future, when he sat through long and tedious meetings here—about matters such as land cultivation schemes—she would be sitting right beside him. In the pauses, he might even receive a glance or two of tender regard from her eyes. The prospect suddenly struck him as quite appealing.
Li Xuandu hesitated a while longer, and then he thought of her soaring ambitions.
A woman who wanted to become Empress would certainly not be content to live quietly confined to the inner quarters forever.
He might as well let her take the post of Chief of Staff. If she knew, she would likely be very pleased—she might even feel grateful toward him.
At this thought, he suddenly found himself almost impatient to see her reaction.
“Your Highness?”
Li Xuandu, deep in thought, heard someone call to him.
He came back to himself, saw everyone looking at him, and came to his senses. Without further hesitation, he gave a nod and said: “Very well.”
A moment ago he hadn’t even been sleeping—he had stayed awake and gathered everyone here in the middle of the night because he wanted to finalize the complete details of this plan as quickly as possible, and execute it before Hufeng could make any move.
Since it was decided, it was only natural to summon her to participate in the discussion.
Li Xuandu had been about to send Luo Bao to check on her—to see if she was still awake, and if so, to invite her here as well—but the words were on the tip of his tongue and he changed his mind.
He instructed the men to begin discussing the plan among themselves, then rose and quickly returned to the inner courtyard.
The lamp inside the room was still lit. He pushed open the door and walked in, turning into the inner bedchamber. Through the bed curtain he could dimly make out her form lying on the bed, her back toward the outside. She appeared to be asleep.
He came to the bedside, gently lifted the curtain, and leaned in close to look at her. He found her lying still with her eyes closed—she had indeed fallen asleep.
He had intended to wake her, but then thought that it was already the dead of night and she had probably truly tired herself out. He hesitated slightly, then stopped where he was.
In truth, Pu Zhu was not asleep at all.
The evening had been filled with tender intimacy—he had not even spared her when they were outdoors. And in the end, when she was exhausted and most wanted him to hold her as they fell asleep together, he had inexplicably left her behind and walked off on his own.
She wasn’t so upset as to be truly angry about it.
She guessed he must have something important to attend to, and that it was by no means an intentional slight. Besides, with Li Xuandu—even now, even with the two of them as intimate as they were—she still dared not make too many demands of him.
But that said, a trace of disappointment lingered in her heart regardless—and how was she supposed to sleep? She had been lying alone, lost in her own thoughts, when she suddenly saw him come back. So she pretended to be asleep, felt him looking at her, closed her eyes, and did not move.
She waited a moment and realized he seemed about to leave again, retreating with light, careful steps. A flutter of urgency hit her, and she threw aside all pretense of restraint. She opened her eyes at once, turned her face, and said: “Three in the morning and you’re still not sleeping—where are you going again?”
Li Xuandu had one knee on the bedside and was slowly lowering himself down, when he suddenly saw her turn and open her eyes to speak to him. So she had been awake after all. He was caught off guard, then laughed, and took advantage of the moment to pull her close. He rolled with her on the bed, letting her come to lie on his chest. He studied her face, saw her expression was one of gentle pique—as if tinged with a touch of grievance—and leaned down to kiss her softly pursed rosy lips. Then he asked, in a coaxing tone: “What’s the matter? Are you angry with me? Were you deliberately ignoring me just now?”
She was propped on his chest, looking up at him, and finally let out a soft sound of assent: “I was tired just now, and wanted you to stay and sleep with me. But you abandoned me and left, and then I couldn’t sleep.”
Li Xuandu closed his eyes, pressed a palm lightly to his forehead, then opened his eyes again with a look of genuine self-reproach.
“It’s entirely my fault. I was too careless!”
He paused, then quickly launched into an explanation: “You know about Hufeng, the Grand Commander of the Eastern Di—he’s a very serious threat to our Protectorate. I’ve been thinking all along about how to deal with him. Just now, when you mentioned hosting a tournament and inviting all the kingdoms here—I suddenly thought of a method that might be able to turn our passive situation into an active one. I was eager to settle it, and that’s why I left.”
“It’s entirely my fault for not explaining it clearly to you.”
Hearing such a patient explanation from him, the small grievance Pu Zhu had been harboring instantly dissolved into nothing. Curiosity now pulled strongly at her and she immediately urged him on: “Tell me quickly—what method did you come up with?”
Li Xuandu saw her instantly light up with interest, her beautiful eyes glittering, and he suddenly had the urge to tease her. He furrowed his brows: “Weren’t you angry with me, refusing to look at me? Very well then—you’re tired too, just sleep. I’ll go back now; Ye Xiao and the others are still waiting for me…”
He lifted her off himself and deposited her back on the bed. He reached over and pulled the quilt, and despite her vigorous resistance, he wrapped her in it completely—even covering her head—until she was bundled up like a silkworm chrysalis. Then he made a show of getting up to leave.
Pu Zhu kicked and thrashed inside the blankets, then gave a great push with one foot and burst free from underneath. She scrambled out and grabbed him from behind around the waist, not letting him go. He insisted on going. The two of them laughed and tussled on the bed. Finally, Li Xuandu was pinned down by her, in a show of feigned helplessness lay back down—but still slanted his gaze at her sideways and gave a low sound: “Not angry anymore?”
After the laughing and wrestling, Pu Zhu’s face had taken on a delicate blush, and her eyes were bright and dewy. She was kneeling over his abdomen and shook her head: “Not angry.”
“Still sleepy?”
She shook her head again: “Not sleepy!”
Looking at her like this—adorably compliant and irresistible—Li Xuandu had an overwhelming urge to call someone to go pass word and dismiss Ye Xiao and the others waiting up front. He just barely managed to pull himself back from the edge.
He quietly drew in a breath and made a deliberate effort to compose his expression into something serious. He sat up and said: “Ye Xiao and the others are still waiting for me. I truly have to go.”
Pu Zhu was reluctant to let him go, but she knew that when jokes were jokes, she couldn’t truly keep him from something so important. She nodded and said: “Go then. I’ll put myself to sleep.”
Li Xuandu nodded, rolled off the bed, and walked toward the door. After a few steps, he stopped and turned to look at her—she was watching him go: “Do you want to come with me?”
Pu Zhu was startled.
She did occasionally go in and out of the council chamber in ordinary times, but she had never participated in a formal session where he met with his subordinates to discuss official business. Except for that time with the Shuang clan mistress. But that had been an exception—she had barged in of her own accord.
Listening to his tone now, he was inviting her to accompany him?
She found it a little hard to believe. She hesitated and asked to confirm: “Your Highness—what do you mean? You’re truly allowed to take me?”
Li Xuandu clasped his hands behind his back and held her gaze for a moment, then said: “I am a full-fledged Grand Protector. What is there to prevent me from bringing my Chief of Staff to the council chamber for a meeting?”
Chief of Staff?
His female Chief of Staff?
Pu Zhu suddenly seemed to grasp something—her eyes went wide.
“Your Highness—what did you just say? Chief of Staff?”
Li Xuandu raised an eyebrow, making every effort to keep his expression neutral, and gave an aloof sound of acknowledgment: “If you’d rather not, then forget it.”
Pu Zhu let out a cry of delighted surprise and leapt off the bed, dashing toward him.
She ran so fast that one of her shoes flew off. She reached him, threw her arms around him, planted a firm kiss on him, then released him and told him to wait a moment.
Li Xuandu stood to one side and watched her in a flurry of happy, fumbling motion—dressing, pinning up her hair. When he saw her unable to find the shoe she had just kicked under the bed, he couldn’t help going over, fished the shoe out from underneath, crouched down, and helped her put it on.
After standing up, he looked her up and down, then took her hand and smiled: “Let’s go—they’re all waiting.”
That night, in the council chamber of the Protectorate, the lamps burned all the way until dawn.
The next day, dispatch after dispatch bearing the Protectorate’s seal went out with rider after rider, radiating from Shuang clan city as the center point, spreading as fast as possible to the kingdoms of the Western Regions in every direction.
Several days later, the rulers of the various kingdoms successively received the invitation—or rather, the command—from Protector Prince Qin Li Xuandu.
He declared that since his arrival in the Western Regions, in not much more than half a year he had won a series of major victories, pacifying borders and quelling the land. Such achievements naturally could not have been possible without the support of the various kingdoms. To express his gratitude to them, and at the same time to celebrate the Protectorate’s relocation to its new seat, he wished to extend a broad invitation to all the kingdoms to come and participate in a polo tournament. The kingdom that won the championship would receive a generous prize of gold and silks.
He required each kingdom to form a polo team and arrive at Shuang clan city by a specified date to attend.
Though he claimed in the letter that the purpose of hosting the polo tournament was to express thanks to the various kingdoms and to celebrate the relocation, a domineering, imperious arrogance—one that disdained all beneath it—seeped unmistakably from between every line throughout the whole document.