“This case is of utmost importance, it must be handled by Minister Wei!”
“Your humble servant holds a position in the Chancellery with numerous duties. Moreover, I am old and dim-sighted, and my eye ailment worsening. Last winter I suffered from wind illness, making it difficult to walk. My abdomen is cold and bloated, my back pain unbearable, I suffer from wheezing and throat congestion, my head often spins, my body burns while my heart is troubled, my qi rebels causing vomiting, my tongue curls while my mouth is dry, my sides convulse suddenly, and my breathing is short…”
Wei Shubin stood silently behind the large screen in the Empress’s chambers, listening to her father’s slightly hoarse voice reciting from medical texts. Even without seeing him, she knew her father must be holding his tablet stiffly while responding, his face full of the expression that said “I absolutely won’t accept this meaningless investigation assignment.”
It made sense. Now that he, Duke Wei Xuancheng, had been promoted to Attendant Gentleman and head of the Chancellery, his daily duties involved reviewing imperial edicts. If he saw anything improper in an imperial decree, he could directly edit it or send it back for revision—no edict could be issued without his signature. What weighty responsibility and great honor this was! In comparison, a minor case about the Emperor’s nephew’s marriage and a niece’s death—how could this require a Prime Minister’s investigation? It was laughable.
Even if it wasn’t a “minor case,” since it involved palace affairs, there was the Department of Palace Administration to manage it, and since it involved imperial clan members, there was the Court of the Imperial Clan in charge. There was no need to involve outside judicial officials, and there were still the judges of the Grand Court of Justice, the Ministry of Justice, and the Censorate—how could this possibly concern Attendant Wei? Did the Emperor think he had too much free time?
“Last year when you reviewed pending litigation at the Department of State Affairs, you showed great comprehension, judging cases with humanity. Both the aggrieved parties and the accused were satisfied with the resolutions of those old cases,” the Emperor tried to reason patiently with Prime Minister Wei. “This case involves the orphaned daughter of the former Crown Prince and the Empress of the Inner Palace. If not handled properly, rumors will spread everywhere and people’s hearts will waver—it cannot be taken lightly.”
“Your Majesty, regarding such rumors—”
“Let’s set aside official duties and speak of personal matters.” The Emperor quickly cut off Prime Minister Wei’s impending lengthy discourse on “how to view and handle rumors.” “Minister Wei, during the Wude years you served the Hidden Crown Prince, maintaining loyalty and integrity. Now that the Hidden Crown Prince’s orphaned daughter has perished, can you sit by idly and allow your former master’s flesh and blood to remain under the shadow of injustice?”
Everyone knew that Wei Zheng had been specially favored by the current Emperor due to his status as a “former palace official,” and both ruler and minister had benefited greatly from this. Having received such grace because of her deceased father, how could he be indifferent to the poor young lady’s death?
“Your servant is old and dim-sighted, my eye ailment worsening. Last winter I suffered from wind illness, making it difficult to walk. My abdomen is cold and bloated, my back pain unbearable, I suffer from wheezing and throat congestion, my head often spins, my body burns while my heart is troubled, my qi rebels causing vomiting, my tongue curls while my mouth is dry, my sides convulse suddenly, and my breathing is short…”
Unable to argue any further points, he could only repeat himself. Wei Shubin could sense her father’s momentum weakening. As his resistance diminished, the Emperor’s tone grew firmer:
“Enough, enough. Due to your poor health, haven’t I already permitted you since autumn to take leave and only come to the ministry once every three days? After resting all winter, I see Minister Wei now has a ruddy complexion, and just now you entered the hall with quite a spring in your step, speaking with full breath, reciting a string of symptoms without pause…”
Wei Shubin naturally knew about her father’s leave-taking since last autumn. It was mainly because the Emperor and his ministers had proposed a military campaign against the Tuyuhun, and Attendant Wei had always opposed wasteful foreign expeditions that exhausted the people. This time his remonstrance had been ineffective, and with the army already deployed, the Chancellery was busy. He was angry and claimed illness, so the Emperor accommodatingly granted him two days of rest for every three, with just one day at the Chancellery handling civil affairs, no need to involve himself in military matters.
By his reckoning, this generous treatment had continued for several months—light official duties while still receiving full salary. Did Prime Minister Wei think such good fortune would last forever in the Zhenguan court?
“Your servant’s abdomen is cold and bloated, my back pain unbearable, I suffer from wheezing and throat congestion, my head often spins, my body burns while my heart is troubled, my qi rebels causing vomiting, my tongue curls while my mouth is dry, my sides convulse suddenly, and my breathing is short…”
“Yes, yes, very well. In commanding you to investigate this case, naturally, you would only need to review documents while seated, analyze doubtful points, and examine human circumstances. At your age, Minister Xuancheng, do you think I am such a tyrannical ruler that I would force a dignified Prime Minister to lower himself to the level of minor officials, running about asking questions? For all the legwork and detailed matters requiring physical effort, there are younger people to serve—”
The Emperor began explaining the personnel arrangements for this investigation, specifically emphasizing that a Prince and an Imperial niece would serve as Wei’s deputies. However, Wei Shubin felt this was useless, and indeed her father found many more reasons to decline, his attitude quite firm.
At least her father hadn’t brought up the matter of his daughter running away from marriage and becoming involved in this case, confessing to murder to defy her parents—perhaps he really couldn’t bear such loss of face… As Wei Shubin was feeling guilty, she saw Empress Zhangsun behind the screen gesture to Chai Yingluo. The Daoist priestess understood and nodded, walking out beyond the screen.
“Ten thousand blessings, Minister Wei. The Empress has words she commands me to convey.”
The area beyond the screen immediately fell silent.
“The Empress understands Minister Wei’s difficulties and wishes to express her thoughts: The District Lady of Linfen’s sudden death is mysterious, and petty people will certainly speculate privately that her aunt drove her to death. This case greatly damages the Empress’s pure reputation. Many mouths can melt metal, and rumors are fearsome. His Majesty relies on Minister Wei’s reputation for directness and righteousness, and the Empress also deeply depends on Minister Wei’s courage. Since the case occurred within the forbidden palace, there will be many obstacles to the investigation. The Empress humbly requests His Majesty to issue a special decree authorizing Minister Wei and Prince Wu to freely enter and exit palace offices and mobilize various departments. Whether questioning upward to the Son of Heaven or investigating downward to palace servants, only the search for truth matters, with nothing forbidden. Only thus can the Inner Palace’s innocence be restored and the trust of all under heaven be gained!”
After this speech, the sound of rustling clothes and paper being prepared for ink came from beyond the screen. Shadows moved on the screen, and from their posture, it appeared Chai Yingluo was kneeling beside the imperial writing desk, preparing brush and ink for the Emperor, with an attitude that seemed to say “Your Majesty, hurry and write the decree—the inner command has been given, what are you waiting for?”
“With the Empress’s command, Wei Zheng dares not deeply decline.” The Gracious Order indeed received different treatment, as the Prime Minister’s tone became much more modest. “Your servant speaks frankly from the heart: though the former palace’s daughter may seem insignificant, she is of imperial blood. This case may have deep and broad connections, reaching up to the Retired Emperor in the Great Peace Palace, deep into the Inner Palace’s princes and imperial consorts, and broadly to…”
Wei Zheng paused, taking a deep breath:
“Broadly to the events of the sixth month of the ninth year. Your servant deserves death, but I fear that investigating this case will uncover many dark secrets that even Your Majesty and the Empress would not bear to hear. Therefore, I dare to advise that it would be better not to investigate this case!”
Wei Shubin was startled. Though she knew her father was bold, she hadn’t expected him to so openly refer to the “Xuanwu Gate Incident” and directly point to “dark secrets”—it was practically accusing the Emperor and Empress of impropriety to their faces. Naturally, it grew even quieter beyond the screen, as if those present didn’t dare even breathe loudly.
The Emperor, who had been writing the decree, spoke in a calm tone:
“Strange words indeed. In the sixth month of the ninth year, I slew my elder brother at Xuanwu Gate. Such a violation of human relations, such a tragedy—I have already declared it clearly to all under heaven. What dark secrets could remain that I would not bear to hear or dare not make public? Since Minister Xuancheng speaks thus, then we absolutely must investigate thoroughly!”
The sound of his writing on paper also quickened, as if his temper had been provoked, and he finished the decree with several swift strokes:
“If you fear interference from me and my wife, I shall make three promises to you: I will not question the details, I will not protect relatives, and I will listen only to your words throughout the investigation. Let this writing serve as proof!”
The sound of jewelry and clothes rustling suggested that Chai Yingluo’s shadow rose to take the decree to Wei Zheng. However, Wei Zheng did not respond, and after a moment spoke again:
“Though I deserve death ten thousand times over, I must still request one thing from the Empress.”
“Please speak, Minister Xuancheng,” the Empress responded from behind the screen.
“This case is suspicious and directly involves the Mother of the Nation. If my investigation reaches an impasse, I request permission to have a private audience with the Empress, report the circumstances, conclude the case, and withdraw.”
“That should naturally be decided by His Majesty,” responded Empress Zhangsun, known for “not interfering in politics,” firmly deflecting the request.
“Your servant is foolish, but fears it may not be so. A thorough investigation will necessarily cause much offense, and I ask Your Majesties to set an example for your subjects. To give one example, as mentioned before, the District Lady of Linfen had a private conversation behind closed doors with the Empress before her sudden death that night. That conversation may be key to solving this case. Could the Empress candidly reveal what was discussed with her niece?”
This question had been lingering in Wei Shubin’s mind since the case broke last night. Standing beside the heated bed platform, she could only see the Empress’s profile as she sat in contemplation with closed eyes, her long eyelashes trembling continuously.
Her father’s question was quite rude, essentially meaning “Since you’re asking me to investigate this case, my first suspect would be you, Your Majesty the Empress—if you won’t answer, I needn’t accept this assignment and can just leave now, tablet in hand.”
The Emperor’s failure to intervene indicated his tacit permission for such boldness. No doubt at this moment, everyone beyond the large screen, including the Son of Heaven himself, had their ears perked up, watching the screen and waiting for the Empress’s response.
After a silence lasting several heartbeats, the Empress sighed softly and beckoned to a palace maid standing in the corner. The maid approached quietly and bent down to hear the Empress whisper in her ear.
Though Wei Shubin stood not far from the Empress, she could only make out the words “Hailing” and “close friendship”—the rest remained unclear.
Hailing… was this referring to former Prince Qi Li Yuanji?
Yuanji, Retired Emperor’s youngest son by his first empress Lady Dou, was enfeoffed as Prince of Qi after the founding of the Great Tang. At the end of the Wude era, he allied with his eldest brother Jiancheng to oppose their second brother, Prince Qin Shimin. On the gengchen day of the sixth month of the ninth year, both were executed at Xuanwu Gate and stripped of their titles as commoners for treason. Later, Jiancheng was posthumously titled Prince of Xi with the temple name Yin, while Yuanji was posthumously titled Prince of Hailing with the temple name Li. When Wei Shubin occasionally heard people mention these two, they usually referred to them as “Xi Yin and Hailing” or even “the two villains of the former palace”—much more cautiously than the Chai siblings’ familiar “Elder Uncle” and “Fourth Uncle.”
After hearing the message, the palace maid, like Chai Yingluo before her, moved beyond the screen, apologized to the Emperor, then whispered something—presumably bending to Wei Zheng’s ear to convey the Empress’s words, as Wei Zheng immediately responded with “Your servant thanks the Empress.”
It seemed Attendant Wei had thus accepted the task of leading the investigation. The Emperor’s voice was somewhat more relieved than before:
“Since Minister Xuancheng has agreed to undertake this labor…”
“Your Majesty, wait.” Wei Zheng interrupted him and began questioning Duke Chai Shao: “There is one matter I must ask the Duke of Qiaoguo about. I haven’t been to Ganye Temple in the Forbidden Palace since the Zhenguan era—how is the security arranged inside and outside the temple? Could outsiders easily slip in during the chaos of night?”
So the investigation was beginning already… Prime Minister Wei was indeed decisive in his work. Chai Shao cooperated fully in his response:
“Ganye Temple was formerly Prince Qi’s mansion, located within the imperial gardens without palace walls for protection, making it vulnerable to raids from northern enemies crossing the Wei River. Therefore, when it was built as a prince’s mansion during the Wude era, it was constructed with high walls and corner towers, with the prince’s guard unit maintaining strict security. After the Zhenguan era, when the wives and daughters of Princes Xi Yin and Hailing moved in, security transferred to the imperial guard garrison, and though the number of guards decreased, the mansion’s layout was also reduced, with fewer courtyards to watch—one could see the entire compound from a single corner tower. Though I wasn’t at the wedding last night, I imagine it would still be extremely difficult for outsiders to scale the high walls on three sides even during the chaos.”
Duke Chai had held the position of General of the Imperial Guard since the beginning of the Zhenguan era and was familiar with palace security, speaking with authority. Prince Wu Li Yuangui’s voice also arose:
“When Xinzhi first entered service, he was stationed at the Northern Command garrison and seems to have served guard duty at Ganye Temple.”
This referred to his tall and strong attendant Yang Xinzhi, who had served as an imperial guard when first entering official service and had stood watch at Ganye Temple. Wei Shubin recalled noticing the temple’s tall corner towers when she first entered Ganye Temple, with guards in bright armor—Yang Xinzhi must have served in those four corner towers as well.
Indeed, Yang Xinzhi replied: “I served guard duty in the corner towers. Usually, only the main hall and east and west wings had people moving about in the temple. During daylight, you could see even children’s eyebrows, hair, and temples. At night it was dark, but the walls had thorns, making them difficult to climb.”
Wei Zheng pondered: “I asked because I heard there have been Tuyuhun people spotted in and around the capital recently. From what you say, it seems unlikely that outside criminals snuck into Ganye Temple during the chaos to commit murder.”
“Indeed unlikely. There were no signs of this during last night’s wedding,” confirmed the bridegroom Chai Zhiwei.
“Then if the District Lady of Linfen didn’t hang herself, the murderer must have been either hidden among the wedding procession, among the noble ladies attending the ceremony, or… among the original temple residents—the two princes’ wives, daughters, and servants.”
Having accepted the investigation, Prime Minister Wei again addressed the Emperor:
“This case involves people of various stations—nobles of imperial blood like Prince Wu, noble ladies from high official families, and those of special status like the wives of Princes Xi Yin and Hailing. Your servant—”
“I’ve already written the decree giving you full authority, and the Empress has already allowed you to question her,” His Majesty interrupted impatiently. “Wherever you need to go, whoever you need to question, you may decide and act on your own—why ask for permission for everything? It’s getting late, I must go to the Great Peace Palace to pay respects to the Retired Emperor. Brother-in-law, come with us, and Fourteenth Brother—”
The Emperor’s voice paused suddenly as if remembering something, and he asked:
“Fourteenth Brother, you presided over Yiniang’s wedding last night? How did this duty fall to you?”
Your Majesty, you just realized this wasn’t right?… Wei Shubin recalled how last night in Yiniang’s chambers, her father Wei Zheng had berated Li Yuangui about “wearing festive clothes to preside over a wedding when your mother hasn’t been dead three months”… It seemed even the Emperor hadn’t known about this?
Last night it was Chai Yingluo who had defended Li Yuangui, and today it was her again, smoothly explaining “It was by decree from the Retired Emperor in the Great Peace Hall, and Fourteenth Uncle doesn’t know the details either.” The Emperor asked no further questions but turned to Yang Xinzhi, his voice carrying a hint of amusement:
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen nephew Yang. You’ve been with Prince Wu for three or four months now, haven’t you? How is it that Fourteenth Prince hasn’t grown any stronger, while you’ve only gotten fatter, Xinzhi?”
Yang Xinzhi answered fluently:
“In response to Your Majesty, following imperial orders, I cook and serve meals for Prince Wu every day. It’s just that the Prince has such a small appetite, getting full after eating less than half his portion, and since we can’t throw away the leftovers, I have no choice but to eat them myself…”
Thinking of the stark contrast between the two young men’s builds, Wei Shubin almost laughed out loud and saw that the Empress was also covering her mouth with a handkerchief in amusement. Beyond the screen, the Emperor gave a great laugh, presumably speaking to Li Yuangui:
“You little rascal, this counts as defying an imperial order!”
Li Yuangui mumbled something in response, and his half-brother said: “Come with me to the Great Peace Palace and explain to the elders yourself—ah…”
The sudden sigh suppressed the atmosphere that had just lightened. By this time, they should have been bringing the newlywed couple—the Retired Emperor’s granddaughter Li Yiniang and his grandson-in-law and maternal grandson Chai Zhiwei—to pay respects to their imperial grandfather. Now, they would probably have to agree on their words along the way, deciding how to explain the young bride’s fate.
Vol 1 – Chapter 11 Notes:
1. Regarding why Ganye Temple had “corner towers,” here’s the explanation:
Since the chaos at the end of the Han dynasty, social order had completely broken down, with burning, killing, and looting rampant. To protect their lives and property, wealthy households with means had to organize their own armed forces and defensive installations. Those without such means would seek shelter by gathering near powerful households, and this way of life continued for several hundred years. The rise of the “great noble families” mentioned in the text was directly related to this phenomenon, with many local noble families building their residences according to military fortress specifications.
The early Tang period marked the end of these centuries of chaos, though people at the time didn’t know this and still lived according to wartime mindsets. Important detached palaces, villas, and noble residences generally had defensive installations like fortress walls and corner towers. Since Ganye Temple was originally Prince Qi’s mansion, located in the relatively desolate imperial gardens, it would have been strange if it hadn’t built watchtowers for surveillance. The Great Peace Palace (Prince Qin’s mansion during the Wude era) mentioned later also had these facilities.
The image below shows a clay model of a Wu Kingdom residence from the Three Kingdoms period, displayed in the National Museum. It features a gatehouse above the front entrance and corner towers at the four corners of the surrounding wall, with living quarters inside—a very typical fortress-style noble residence. It was unearthed in Echeng, Hubei in 1967. (Please visit the author’s Weibo to view the images)
2. Explanation of “shihuo” (釋褐):
Simply put, it means “just beginning an official career, entering the path of officialdom.” Here, “huo” (褐) means “commoner’s clothing.” In the Tang dynasty, the children of nobles normally weren’t born with official positions. Even sons of princes and princesses, despite their high hereditary status, had to participate in certain selection processes when they came of age. Most had to begin their official careers by serving in the “Three Guards.”
The “Three Guards” refers collectively to the Imperial Guard (qinwei), Merit Guard (xunwei), and Supportive Guard (yiwei), all of which were ranked positions in the imperial guard. Sons of third-rank officials or grandsons of second-rank officials could compete for the upper seventh-rank position of Imperial Guard at age 21. Grandsons of third-rank officials and sons of fourth-rank officials could compete for the lower seventh-rank position of Merit Guard. Sons of fifth-rank officials could compete for the upper eighth-rank position of Supportive Guard. During the Zhenguan era, positions in the Three Guards were still quite prestigious and valued, but this changed after Emperor Gaozong’s time.