“Then what is your suggestion?” Xu Lingyi sat up and propped himself on one elbow, facing her.
“Mind you do not catch cold.” Eleventh saw that he had exposed more than half of himself from under the covers.
“I am fine,” said Xu Lingyi dismissively. “It is warm enough in here.” He continued, “Tell me — what do you propose?”
He asked with such deliberate gravity that Eleventh found herself at a loss for how to answer.
She was a woman who had been raised in the inner quarters. She did not know the Emperor’s character, nor was she privy to years of court governance and imperial decrees — how could she presume to divine the imperial will? Yet if she said nothing, she feared disappointing Xu Lingyi and squandering the trust she had only just managed to earn.
She could only reply evasively, “I have no particularly good proposal… I only feel it cannot be done so directly. I would rather we keep a low profile and wait for the Qu family to overreach and invite His Majesty’s suspicions ourselves, than allow the censors to impeach the Qu family at a moment like this. When all is said and done, whether something is right or wrong, true or false — it all hinges on the Emperor’s judgment alone. Did you not say it yourself — our Xu family is in the north, and the Qu family is in the south?”
Xu Lingyi was silent for a long while.
The bed curtain made the darkness deep — a silhouette was visible, but no expression could be read. It gave an air of grave, subdued weight.
Eleventh did not care for this suffocating atmosphere. She sat up and drew his covers over him more snugly. “Marquis, please rest — tomorrow we must rise early. There is no rushing this sort of thing. Going to Sishamen tomorrow and seeing how others react before making any decisions would not be too late.”
Xu Lingyi lay back obediently and let Eleventh tuck the covers around him.
“The twentieth day of the twelfth month is the Imperial Birthday Festival.” He said suddenly. “I will arrange for someone to present a memorial to His Majesty at that time, proposing a general amnesty. Among those covered by it would be the pirates who have been hunted for years along the Fujian, Guangdong, and Zhejiang coasts.”
Eleventh was startled. “Marquis…”
The Qu family had contended with pirates along the Fujian and Guangdong coasts for many years and had slaughtered countless among them, accumulating deep and bitter enmities. If the court were to pardon the very pirates who had been hunted for years, the Qu family would no longer be able to use the power of the government to maintain their own position — it would be like stripping away a layer of their armor, leaving them bare-skinned and naked before enemies who might retaliate at any moment.
This being so, it would be impossible for the Qu family to remain calm. When a person’s mind is thrown into turmoil, mistakes usually follow…
She drew a slow breath.
If she had thought of this herself, how could His Majesty fail to see it? How could the Qu family fail to see it? Would it not chill the hearts of the soldiers and officers, setting the southern coast into an uproar?
“This is too risky.” Eleventh could not hold back. “His Majesty will be suspicious, and so will the court officials. This is far more troublesome than mobilizing censors to impeach — an impeachment is a civil official’s method, and His Majesty has never feared civil officials without military power; it would simply cost more words. But a general amnesty that makes no distinction between soldiers and pirates — that is a military man’s tactic. One misstep and it could incite a mutiny. His Majesty will certainly not agree. Marquis, you must think this through carefully.”
At the sound of his wife’s startled exclamation, Xu Lingyi had already known that Eleventh understood his purpose completely. Now, hearing her go on to say this, he was entirely at ease.
He could speak freely in front of Eleventh.
“This is merely a test,” he said in a low voice. “I wish to see what His Majesty’s reaction will be.”
A test was fine — as long as you did not end up testing yourself into ruin.
Eleventh grumbled silently and asked him, choosing her words carefully, “How do you intend to conduct this test, Marquis?”
Xu Lingyi explained openly, “First, have a censor raise the matter of a general amnesty. Then let the court debate the scope of the pardon, and propose whether the pirates along the Fujian, Guangdong, and Zhejiang coasts might be included — inviting them to come ashore and witness the splendor of a prosperous age, to erode their will to oppose the court. Once someone has raised the proposal, there will naturally be those who oppose it.”
“If His Majesty agrees, what does the Marquis intend to do?” Eleventh asked softly. “And if His Majesty does not agree, what then?”
“If His Majesty agrees, the discussion will be steered toward the question of a formal pacification — truly allowing those pirates who have murdered and plundered to come ashore would terrify the common people and harm the foundations of the realm, so that in reality is impossible.” Xu Lingyi said. “If His Majesty does not agree,” — he drew the words out — “then we will use your plan.”
“My plan?” Eleventh was bewildered. “What plan of mine?”
In the darkness, Xu Lingyi gave a low laugh. “Did you not say, ‘I would rather we keep a low profile and wait for the Qu family to overreach and invite His Majesty’s suspicions ourselves, than allow the censors to impeach the Qu family at a moment like this’? We will use the method you described.”
Cold sweat prickled at Eleventh’s temples.
Looking at that stratagem of his — “pacifying the pirates” — it was a plan within a plan, at once practical and workable, accounting for every possible outcome. It was clear he had already discussed it thoroughly with his advisors at Banyuepan, including contingencies for every scenario that might arise. And now he was casually attributing one part of it to her. As the saying goes well, a bird that sticks its head up will be shot. And she was a woman, no less. Her aim was to live out her days in peace and die of old age in her own bed — she had already experienced one unnatural death; she had no wish to experience another.
“Marquis,” she murmured, with just a hint of a pout, “I cannot sleep for worry, and yet here you are teasing me.”
Xu Lingyi gave a low, brief laugh, and said, “Set your mind at ease. From what I know of His Majesty, he will certainly agree. If he would not, then he would not be the Emperor.” Then, abruptly, he changed the subject. “Eleventh, do you have a courtesy name? What is it?”
She had no courtesy name.
In the world she had come from, she had been called Ye Moyan.
Eleventh fell silent for a long moment.
Xu Lingyi turned toward her. “Do you not?”
“I do,” Eleventh said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Moyan. My name is Moyan.”
“Moyan.” Xu Lingyi’s voice was mellow and deep. The way he spoke those two characters was like reciting poetry, with the resonance of a soft, low melody — it was very pleasing to the ear. “Why this name? Who chose it for you?”
It was her father from her past life.
He had said: a thousand words are worth less than a single silence.
Eleventh felt her eyes suddenly grow wet, and she could not speak.
Xu Lingyi could sense the mood of the person beside him drop all at once.
Moyan. It carried the meaning of saying little.
Was it an admonition for her to speak less?
He thought of her origins. He thought of her quiet, settled manner. He thought of her reserved, reticent ways… and of those eyes that were so completely at odds with all of it — vivid and full of light.
He suddenly felt a pang of something aching.
How much self-suppression must it take to hold down what was, at its core, a bright and lively nature.
“Eleventh,” he lowered his voice. His mellow, deep tone was like a cup of amber-colored wine, inviting one to linger over each sip. “Come here.” He lifted the covers.
Eleventh was stunned.
So suddenly…
But as a wife, she had no right to refuse.
She hesitated for only a moment before obediently shifting over.
Xu Lingyi immediately wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
He seemed somehow urgent about it…
The thought flashed through her mind, and Eleventh felt at a loss.
What if it turned out like last time?
She was still hesitating when Xu Lingyi said, in a perfectly calm and even tone, “Go to sleep. If you do not, you will not be able to wake up tomorrow.”
Eleventh was dumbfounded.
He had called her over — only for the two of them to sleep in each other’s arms?
Yet the gradually steady rhythm of his breathing beside her left her no choice but to accept this as fact.
Eleventh closed her eyes. Little by little, she drifted to sleep in the warm, soothing embrace of Xu Lingyi, with his quiet, mellow scent around her.
In the darkness, a pair of large hands gently tucked the corner of the covers around her.
…
Eleventh woke up feeling hot.
Her whole body was covered in a faint, thin layer of perspiration — slightly clammy, and somewhat uncomfortable.
She tried to roll over, but her limbs were held down by a heavy, solid weight. It was only then that she realized she had been enveloped tightly in Xu Lingyi’s arms the entire time.
No wonder she felt so warm.
He was practically a furnace.
The moment Eleventh stirred, Xu Lingyi woke as well.
The soft, warm body in his arms carried a faint, delicate scent that he found very pleasant. He held her a while longer before asking, “What hour is it?” His voice, fresh from sleep, carried a languid ease.
“I do not know.” She could not see clearly inside the bed curtains. “The night-watch maid has not called yet — it must still be early.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Hupo’s voice came from outside the curtain, carefully restrained. “Marquis, my Lady — it is the end of the third watch.”
Eleventh struggled to get up — today the entire Xu household would be entering the palace for the mourning rites, and she hoped to conduct herself well.
But Xu Lingyi did not release her immediately. “It is still early — the mourning rites at Sishamen do not begin until mid-morning.”
“I need to go to Mother’s first!” Eleventh said with a mild pout. Only then did he let go.
Eleventh went to the washroom with Hupo, bathed and freshened up, changed into her mourning attire, then came out to eat breakfast with Xu Lingyi.
Xu Lingyi had already changed into his dark navy mourning robes, paired with a black horn belt.
Seeing his wife emerge from her bath with clear, bright eyes and a flushed complexion, looking full of energy, Xu Lingyi gave a small smile. He had just raised his chopsticks when Zhen Jie’er came in to pay her morning respects.
Eleventh quickly had someone bring over a grand armchair so Zhen Jie’er could sit and eat with them.
Zhen Jie’er glanced at Xu Lingyi, who was sitting in silence, and sat down with a slight nervousness.
The three concubines came to pay their respects.
Eleventh was somewhat surprised.
She had not expected Qiao Lianlang to have “recovered” so quickly.
She invited them in, received their greetings in return, and politely asked after Qiao Lianlang’s health.
Qiao Lianlang answered Eleventh, but her eyes kept drifting toward Xu Lingyi. “Thank you for your concern, my Lady. I changed to a new Imperial Physician and had a new prescription written up — it really has made a great deal of difference. Thinking that I had not come to pay my respects to Elder Sister in so many days, I felt quite uneasy about it. So I came specially today.”
Unfortunately, Xu Lingyi’s full attention was on Zhen Jie’er, who sat at his side, and he paid Qiao Lianlang no particular notice.
Eleventh observed this and gave a quiet smile. “I am glad to hear it,” she said. She then instructed Qin Yiniang and Wen Yiniang, “You should all take care as well. The new year is nearly upon us — it would not do for anyone to be confined to bed during the holiday season.”
Both concubines acknowledged the instruction with respectful murmurs.
Eleventh dismissed them. “…The Fifth Prince has passed, and we are about to enter the palace to pay our condolences.”
Qin Yiniang could not help but let a sorrowful expression cross her face.
Wen Yiniang, however, said, “The wind and snow outside are fierce — please take care of yourself, my Lady. I have a pair of black fox fur knee pads. Would you care to wear them? It would save you from kneeling on the ground and catching cold.”
Eleventh had not thought to make any such preparation for her attire before going.
She also thought of the Grand Dowager — at her age, a pair of fur knee pads like that would be better given to her. She said, “Thank you, Wen Yiniang.”
Wen Yiniang brightened at this and promptly sent Qiu Hong to retrieve the knee pads. She added, “Marquis, would you care for a pair as well? I have a pair of sable fur ones.”
“No need.” Xu Lingyi’s tone was somewhat cool. “I have no use for those.”
Under ordinary circumstances Eleventh would not have intervened — but with Zhen Jie’er present, she could not simply let him brush Wen Yiniang aside so bluntly.
She said kindly to Wen Yiniang, “The Marquis is not like us ladies and children.”
Wen Yiniang had long grown accustomed to Xu Lingyi’s coldness. She smiled without any particular feeling. “I was the one who did not think it through.”
—