At the si hour, the Ceremony Announcement Female Official from the palace’s Bureau of Ceremonial Affairs arrived at the postal station with her attendants.
Pu Zhu washed her hands, composed her expression, and knelt properly at the desk to receive instruction from the female official seated across from her. Whatever she said, Pu Zhu responded with agreement — no different from her previous life.
Although the young lady was now an orphan standing alone in the world, seemingly without support, the Pu Family had been exonerated, Lord Pu’s name had been cleared, and the current Emperor had specifically summoned her to the capital. Given Lord Pu’s prestige in his day and the goodwill he still commanded among the people’s hearts, it was clear that this sole surviving blood descendant of the Pu Family had favor and grace awaiting her. She was also at a marriageable age, and the capital was full of princes and noble young men — perhaps very soon a prosperous and distinguished match would fall to her.
The female official understood this well in her heart, and seeing her attitude respectful, gentle, and composed, she was even more pleased. She carefully taught her every piece of etiquette she needed to know, demonstrating each one herself without omission. There were so many formal rituals and elaborate protocols that it took an entire day — the female official was not finished until evening. She drank a cup of tea that Ju A’mu had brought to her as thanks, smiled and praised the young lady a few times, returned to the palace to make her report, and before leaving told her to wait patiently.
In her previous life, it had been three days after Pu Zhu arrived in the capital and moved into the postal station before she received a summons from Emperor Xiaochang.
This was the most reasonable arrangement. The Pu family’s daughter had come from a long journey and needed rest and preparation; the Emperor even less so was a man of leisure, with ten thousand affairs of state to attend to every day.
In this lifetime, Pu Zhu estimated things should proceed similarly, so she felt no anxiety or worry.
She only needed to wait to enter the palace and see the Emperor, then receive the imperial rewards, and let all the world know that the Pu family’s loyalty to the Emperor was absolute, full of gratitude and devotion.
This was a ceremony that was necessary and also extremely important. With this ceremony, the “case of re-examining and overturning the unjust conviction and clearing the name of Pu Youzhi” — which had drawn the attention of countless eyes — could be considered perfectly concluded.
Although she had arrived in the capital last night without drawing attention, now that she was here, there would certainly be people who had noticed her presence.
Just as in her previous life, she planned to spend the next two days going nowhere, staying quietly in the postal station and waiting for the Emperor’s summons.
She had not expected that the very next morning, before the Emperor’s summons arrived, an uninvited guest came first.
This uninvited guest was the young prince A’Shibi Huaiwei.
He had set out earlier than Pu Zhu and had already been in the capital for nearly a month. Having eaten his fill of palace delicacies and toured all the famous sights and scenic spots, once the initial excitement and novelty had worn off, he had begun to grow bored these past few days, and had finally thought of Pu Zhu. He had been wondering why she still hadn’t come to keep him company when last night, inside Penglai Palace, he overheard female officials making arrangements for the Empress Dowager to summon the Pu family’s daughter for an audience in a few days’ time. He had been thrilled beyond measure — if it hadn’t been for the nighttime palace curfew and his grandmother’s refusal to let him go out, he would have rushed to see her that very night. Today, the moment he woke up and opened his eyes, he ordered people to escort him out of the palace, and made straight for the postal station where she was staying.
That the young prince had found his way here so quickly came as something of a surprise to Pu Zhu, but seeing him, she was genuinely pleased.
Ju A’mu was very fond of this curly-haired, blue-eyed little prince who loved to eat. She smilingly set out food and snacks, and the young prince sat nearby, grabbing food with both plump hands left and right as he ate, chattering away to Pu Zhu about all sorts of things he had seen and done since arriving in the capital.
He said he was staying in his grandmother’s Penglai Palace. His grandmother liked him very, very much — on the very first day they met, if he hadn’t been so heavy, his grandmother would practically have hugged him and refused to let go.
Huaiwei mentioned this with great satisfaction. He also said the Emperor treated him very, very well — had enfeoffed him as the King of Qi State, and given him the food tax revenue of the wealthiest commandery in Hedong. In short, he was now very, very rich, the kind of rich where you could lie on top of it and sleep, and he was generously offering that if she had no money, he was willing to consider giving her half.
After recounting how beloved he was, the young prince went on to recommend to Pu Zhu the places he had visited.
The Forbidden Garden in the north of the city — boring!
The peonies at An’guo Temple in the east of the city — mediocre.
The Imperial Park in the west of the city — passable.
The young prince strongly recommended the Southern Ward market district. Now that was a fantastic place — dense with shops selling goods from every corner of the world. Whatever you could think of, you could find it there; whatever you couldn’t imagine, you could find it too. Besides shops, there were lively cockfighting arenas, polo matches with tens of thousands of spectators…
The young prince talked so excitedly he forgot to eat, gesturing animatedly and nearly spraying, enthusiastically inviting Pu Zhu to go with him to the Southern Ward market district that very day.
Of course Pu Zhu would not go. Smiling, she listened until he finished, politely declined, saying she had just arrived in the capital and was a bit tired. She then steered the conversation to the topic she cared about — Li Xuandu.
She remembered that in her previous life he had seemed to arrive a few days after her. It appeared that one of the two forces that the court had previously dispatched to suppress the Prince of Tianshui — the contingent commanded by Marquis of Guangping Han Rongchang — had not gone as smoothly as the one in He Xi. Problems had arisen, and the Prince of Tianshui’s rebel forces had spilled over into Li Xuandu’s neighboring Western Sea Commandery, and he had urgently returned to handle things there.
Indeed, the young prince said: “Him? He’s not here yet! When we were almost at the capital, word came that something had gone wrong in Western Sea Commandery, and he went rushing back. I came into the capital with my Crown Prince nephew. Good riddance — I don’t want to see him anyway! I’ve got a good nephew now…”
The good nephew seemed to be of one mind with him. Huaiwei had only just mentioned him when a man’s voice called out warmly from outside: “Little Uncle! Are you in there?”
Huaiwei’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Pu Zhu in delight: “Speak of the devil — my good nephew is here!”
Accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps, a black-faced boot stepped over the threshold, and a young man of eighteen or nineteen — dark-complexioned and heavyset — strode in with a blue-streaked falcon perched on one forearm, his face full of cheerfulness. He called out merrily: “Little Uncle, I got this blue-streak yesterday, already trained it up, it listens to commands now! I wanted to come find you to play yesterday, heard first thing this morning that you came here…”
His two eyes landed on Pu Zhu’s face across the room and stopped.
Huaiwei pointed at this lavishly dressed, dark and stocky young man and proudly told Pu Zhu: “That’s my good nephew! He’s been keeping me company all over the place while you were away! His surname is Han — his name is Han Chijiao!”
“Is she… is she the Pu family’s young lady?” Han Chijiao finally pulled back his gaze and turned to ask Huaiwei.
Huaiwei nodded: “Exactly! I heard she arrived yesterday, so I came here first thing this morning to see her!”
Han Chijiao looked at her again.
Over the past month or two, if there was anyone who had become the most closely watched focal point among the influential aristocratic families of the capital, it was without question the one surviving granddaughter of the Pu Family. And by all indications, once the young lady of the Pu Family entered the capital, the Emperor would surely not be stingy with rewards. There was also a rumor that the young lady of the Pu Family was still unmarried — clearly, whoever married her would benefit enormously, with the Emperor naturally promoting her husband to demonstrate his imperial favor.
This young lord Han ordinarily moved among the circles of cockfighters and horse racers. When they got together, what they discussed most was the Pu family granddaughter, and they had even made a wager: whichever one of them ended up marrying her, all the rest would bow to him as the greatest.
Han Chijiao himself hadn’t been that concerned about it.
His mother was a Princess Imperial; the reigning Emperor was his own maternal uncle. He didn’t need to covet that modest advantage of marrying into imperial favor. But he was a person who loved to show off and stand out, and today he had come looking for the young prince. When he heard that Huaiwei had gone to see the Pu family granddaughter who had arrived last night, he became a little curious and thought he’d take a look at what she was like. Now that he had laid eyes on her, his heart stirred. He also thought of that wager among his companions, so he turned around and passed off the blue-streak falcon on his arm to an attendant waiting outside, then came running back. Standing in the doorway with a pretense of dignity, he folded his hands in greeting toward Pu Zhu: “I am Han Chijiao. My mother is Princess Imperial Shang Yang, elder sister of His Majesty the Emperor; my father is the Marquis of Guangping. I have long heard of the young lady of the Pu Family’s illustrious name. Meeting you today, the name is truly well-deserved!”
This Han Chijiao was someone Pu Zhu could not possibly overlook even if she tried.
He was the son of Princess Imperial Shang Yang and Marquis of Guangping Han Rongchang, the heir of the marquis’s household. In her previous life, the reason Huaiwei had come to grief was because after Li Xuandu left the capital, he had taken Huaiwei out to play and Huaiwei had nearly drowned.
Pu Zhu said nothing in reply.
What “long heard of the young lady’s illustrious name.” If it weren’t for heaven having conveniently sent that bolt of lightning, she would have stayed in He Xi until she was old and gray, and no one would ever have remembered she existed.
Han Chijiao, however, seemed completely unaware of her coldness — and he didn’t mind it at all.
She was beautiful, needless to say. And if he could marry her, he could show off in front of everyone. Never mind her being cold toward him — even if she spat in his face, he wouldn’t be angry.
Han Chijiao finished his bow, then said with a grin: “The young lady has just arrived in the capital and must not yet be familiar with the local customs and scenery. An’guo Temple has a hundred-year-old peony. This year, not only has it bloomed for a long time, but it has actually produced one thousand two hundred blossoms! I went to admire the flowers just two days ago, and I wondered to myself why they were so different from other years, blooming so magnificently. Today I finally understand — it was all because of the young lady’s coming! If you have leisure time, I can serve as your guide today and take the young lady to admire the flowers. And if the young lady dislikes crowds, I’ll tell the old monk to close the temple gates to all other visitors — they’ll be there to welcome only you!”
Pu Zhu said coolly: “I have no interest in flower-viewing.”
Han Chijiao didn’t even blink: “You’re absolutely right, you’re absolutely right! I thought again yesterday, what’s so great about flowers? Same thing every year — why do so many foolish men and silly women insist on crowding in to look? Polo would be far better! Young lady, do you know what polo is? It’s the most fashionable thing in the capital right now — even my Crown Prince elder brother is an expert at it. I wouldn’t dare claim to be number one, but second or third, more than enough. Young lady, if you’re interested, I’ll take you to the polo ground and teach you to ride and play. Otherwise, if someday you play with female companions and you don’t know how, you might end up being laughed at by them…”
The young prince beside them found this increasingly wrong the more he listened. He put down his food, walked over to the doorway where his good nephew was trying so hard to talk up a storm, and beckoned him to come aside.
Han Chijiao hurriedly nodded to Pu Zhu, told her to wait a moment, turned and followed the young prince out, walking all the way out of the courtyard before catching up with him and asking: “Little Uncle, what is it? Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking to the young lady!”
The young prince and his “good nephew” had bonded quickly over their shared love of food, and now that he had turned against him, the reversal was just as swift. He said coldly: “What do you think you’re doing? She… “
He almost blurted out “She’s going to be my future princess consort,” but the words were on the tip of his tongue when he remembered Li Xuandu’s threat that day, and he hastily swallowed them back.
“…She’s my good friend! You dare make a move on her, and I’ll break off all ties with you! I don’t have a nephew like you!”
Han Chijiao was taken aback for a moment, then coaxed: “Fine, fine, I got it, I got it — I won’t make a move on her, alright?”
The young prince looked at him suspiciously: “Really?”
Han Chijiao swore to heaven: “Really, really — if I’m lying to you, may my father suffer a setback and eat a defeat in battle!”
Poor Marquis of Guangping Han Rongchang, already having a miserable time in Tianshui, his face covered in dirt, saved from disaster only by Li Xuandu’s rushed return — and now his own son in the capital was cursing him behind his back like this.
The young prince’s anger turned to joy, but he was still uneasy, and prodded Han Chijiao to go. He said he would find time to come play with him later, and finally managed to send him away. Only then did he turn and go back inside.
Pu Zhu asked about the Han household’s young lord. The young prince said: “I sent him away!”
In her previous life, the young prince had met with his mishap around autumn of that year.
Still several months away.
Pu Zhu was thinking about this matter when suddenly someone came from outside.
A postal station attendant came with a message, saying someone had come to return a roll of oilcloth to her.
She had not expected that Jiang Yi would remember even such a small thing, and had actually sent someone to return it.
Pu Zhu hurried outside to the entrance of the postal station.
The one who had come to deliver the item was one of the common soldiers Pu Zhu had seen the night before. He spoke with respectful courtesy, saying that the Stable Supervisor had instructed him to convey his gratitude to the young lady for her warm-hearted assistance.
Pu Zhu asked when they were leaving.
The soldier said: “The horses have been delivered to the Grand Stable. Once they’re in the stable, our task is done. We set out today.”
Pu Zhu was taken aback. Before her eyes appeared that figure from the previous evening standing in the heavy rain, and her heart felt, she wasn’t sure why, a faint and quiet sadness. She said: “Wait a moment — let me go get some travel rations for you to take along for the road.” She turned and went quickly back to her quarters, and said to Ju A’mu: “A’mu, please go to the postal station master and buy some good quality travel rations. The Great General is leaving today.”
Ju A’mu nodded and hurried out.
Pu Zhu also wrapped up the remaining clean pastries she had and prepared to take them out as well. She was busy with this when she heard the young prince ask: “Who were those people just now? Who is the Great General?”
Pu Zhu glanced at him — he had a look of pure curiosity on his face. She said: “Jiang Yi, the Great General Jiang. Before you were even born, his name was already known throughout the world.”
“I know him!”
To Pu Zhu’s surprise, Huaiwei leapt to his feet, his face filling with excitement.
“My riding and archery instructor Aburin used to mention him all the time — Great General Jiang Yi! Instructor said he was the reincarnation of a war god, invincible in battle, never once defeated by anyone!”
Huaiwei’s eyes shone, and he shouted: “Is he here right now? I want to go see him! I’ve wanted to meet him for a long time!”
Pu Zhu was somewhat surprised — even Huaiwei, the young prince from distant Xiyu, had heard of Jiang Yi.
But clearly, his wish was something she was powerless to fulfill.
Jiang Yi was about to leave. He was Jiang Shi’s own nephew. Even though he had come all the way here and would not enter the city himself, he must have had his own considerations. As a complete outsider with no connection to any of this, how could she possibly presume to lead Huaiwei over there on her own?
Pu Zhu coaxed him, saying Jiang Yi had business and couldn’t see him right now, but there would be another time.
Huaiwei had been in the capital for some time now and was gradually beginning to understand some of the differences between the customs here and those of Yinyue City. His mind was quick, and he immediately said: “I absolutely have to meet him! I’ll go beg my grandmother! As long as she agrees, it’ll definitely happen!” He ran out without another word, ordering the guards following him to immediately go to Penglai Palace on his behalf to get his grandmother’s approval.
Inside Penglai Palace, an elderly female official named Chen walked softly into a small, modest palace chamber and reported to an old woman lying on a couch.
The old woman slowly opened her eyes and murmured quietly: “Has Jiang Yi returned?”
“Yes. He is said to have arrived yesterday, and personally escorted two prized horses here for Your Majesty the Grand Empress Dowager.”
The female official finished speaking, then seeing the old woman appear to want to sit up, stepped forward and helped support her.
After the old woman had settled into a sitting position, she asked: “How did Huaiwei come to know?”
“The young prince went to Chongye Ward’s postal station this morning to visit the young lady of the Pu Family. According to what the accompanying guards reported, it seems the young lady entered the capital last night and encountered Master Jiang at the western Yongle Gate — the young prince must have heard the news from her.”
The female official paused, glanced at the old woman with a hint of careful attention, and added: “They say that Master Jiang spent last night at the western outskirts’ Bianqiao postal station, and is leaving for the Upper Commandery today.”
The old woman was silent.
In the corner of the chamber, a beast-shaped incense burner exhaled wisps of fragrant smoke. The palace room was utterly still, without a sound.
“Have Jiang Yi called back.”
The old woman suddenly said.
As she spoke these words, she seemed to recall some memory from the past. A mist of grief-tinged sorrow welled up in her clouded eyes, and she let out a quiet, low sigh.
“…Let him come and see Huaiwei first. Let them meet before he leaves!”
The old female official respectfully murmured her assent, bowed toward the old woman, and was about to withdraw when she heard the old woman speak again: “What about Yuli’er? Any news? When is he arriving?”
Hearing this name, the corners of the old female official’s eyes involuntarily softened with a thread of joy. She said quietly: “I was just looking for an opportunity to let you know, Your Majesty. They say the matter on the Tianshui side has been settled, and Prince Qin is on his way back. With luck, he should arrive in a matter of days.”
The old woman said: “Year after year, one year and then another — I don’t know what he looks like now after all this time…”
Her voice was desolate. She slowly lay back down, turning her face toward the wall.
“Now that he’s come back this time, say it’s my wish — have him stay a few more days before he goes.”