Li Yuanji didn’t sleep well that night. Early the next morning, as he rode with his retinue toward Duke Qi’s mansion in Chongren Ward, he dozed off in his saddle while Yang Xinzhi and other attendants handled the formalities of entering the city and crossing streets.

His poor sleep was due to a big argument with Chai Yaoluo.

When she first heard his declaration “I must continue investigating First Lady’s case,” the female Daoist tried to reason with him patiently. He cited the Emperor’s support, telling her about his secret mission—overtly searching for the Tuyuhun Khan’s legitimate grandson while covertly continuing to investigate the First Lady’s murderer. The female Daoist asked him to think carefully about “in a dispute between His Majesty and the Empress, who would ultimately win?”

Li Yuanji reluctantly admitted, “probably the Empress.” True, his second brother was bold and fierce, his anger terrifying like thunder and lightning. But when it came to patience, persistence, subtle influence, and wearing down resistance… the Emperor couldn’t match his wedded wife even with three hundred years of practice. In a battle of wills between the couple, His Majesty Li Shimin’s chances of winning probably weren’t even one in ten.

“So, I suggest you don’t focus too much on the First Lady’s case—concentrate on finding the Tuyuhun prince,” Chai Yaoluo said gently. “The Empress isn’t well, she might not pay attention these few days, but she’s already decided to close the case, and ultimately His Majesty won’t be able to oppose her. Since His Majesty asked you to investigate secretly, just delay it. After a few days, His Majesty won’t mention it again, everyone will be happy, and that’ll be that, right?”

Yes, everyone would be happy… Li Yuanji sighed and countered: “What about the First Lady? Is she just going to die in confusion and uncertainty like this? Either labeled as mentally ill and suicidal or smeared as ‘deserving death for seducing the Crown Prince’?”

“Such naive words,” he couldn’t tell if the smile on the female Daoist’s lips was mocking, contemptuous, or sorrowful. “In these deep palace grounds, there are countless wronged spirits—what’s one more First Lady?”

He knew Chai Yaoluo meant well. His niece was nearly ten years older and had personally experienced the turbulent changes of the late Wude and early Zhenguan periods, understanding far more than him about “royal family relationships.” Due to her mother’s connections with the Chai family, they had always shown kindness to his mother and her three children. Perhaps because of this, Li Yuanji couldn’t control his sudden rage, overturning the table as he roared.

The First Lady’s life and reputation were certainly considered worthless. She was merely the orphaned daughter of the former Crown Prince who had been deposed and killed, with no control over her life or death, just like countless other voiceless women who died within these high walls, just like… his own mother who ended her life with a noose, filled with hatred and tears.

He wasn’t familiar with his eldest brother’s surviving daughter; they had only truly met when her wedding preparations began. He couldn’t even say he liked First Lady—the long-imprisoned young lady was plain-looking, inarticulate, shy, and awkward, more like an unpolished palace maid.

But she should have had a grand wedding to become someone’s wife, not dying alone hanging from a beam on her wedding day, blood flowing from seven orifices, eyes unable to close in death.

Li Yuanji remembered that wedding night when he rushed into the bride’s quarters with a torch, experiencing a disorienting sense of temporal displacement. Standing beneath the beam, looking up at the hanging young woman, in the alternating light and shadow, her face seemed to transform into that of his birth mother, Lady Zhang.

Later he believed the room’s pervading fragrance had caused that illusion when he learned the incense burning in the bronze burner came from Chai Yaoluo’s personal sachet—scent hand-blended and given by his mother during her lifetime. The familiar fragrance wafting through the air instantly transported him back to his mother’s side.

Li Yuanji’s mother, Lady Zhang, wasn’t considered outstanding in the rear palace. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been deeply involved in the crown prince succession struggle during the later years of Wude—however, in the inevitable whispers, casual conversations, and judgments of others, Lady Zhang, like most imperial consorts, undoubtedly sided with the original Crown Prince Jiancheng, placing all hopes for her and her children’s futures on that benevolent heir apparent.

On that day in the sixth month of Wude’s ninth year, Li Yuanji remembered his mother rushing into their rooms, gathering him and his sister in her arms, the three of them hiding trembling in a corner for an entire day. He was barely old enough to form memories then. A few years later, they moved with other consorts and children from the inner palace to the remote and towering Da’an Palace.

Sometimes when Mother wept sorrowfully, she would whisper that if the original Crown Prince were still alive, he had promised to ennoble Fourteenth Brother with a rich fief near the capital, to find a wealthy and powerful match for Seventeenth Sister, like those records might not even exist anymore. When the Grand Prince came to our Western Capital’s Clan Court requesting them, how could Bai Yao conjure them from thin air?”

Seeing the conversation wasn’t going well, Li Yuanji rose to leave. As he was about to exit the hall, a voice came from behind:

“However…”

Li Yuanji turned back to see Li Baiyao stroking his sparse white beard, pondering:

“In the early years of Daye, when Sui administration was still orderly, yearly important documents were copied and stored in the Western Capital…”

“Those old document copies?” Li Yuanji quickly asked.

“Let me think… In the second year of Zhenguan, no, the third year, yes, the third year, when the court ordered the compilation of the Five Dynasties’ histories… they were all transferred to the Secretariat’s Historical Bureau, for Minister Wei and others… I was also fortunate to participate in that grand endeavor… to reference while compiling history.”

Li Yuanji was exasperated, feeling that Li Baiyao’s gaze held a teasing glint, thinking the old man must be too bored from sitting in this cold office and just wanted someone to banter with… He couldn’t even be bothered to say “thank you for your guidance,” just cupped his hands and left with his attendant.

The two rode north again, entering the palace city from the imperial city, walking into the small courtyard of the Historical Bureau surrounded by jujube trees north of the Secretariat. Minister Wei Zheng, responsible for overseeing the Five Dynasties’ histories, wasn’t in the bureau, but the duty compiler, seeing the imperial order, politely allowed Li Yuanji and Yang Xinzhi to search through the archives. However, having survived the Sui chaos, the remaining imperial genealogies were indeed incomplete. The two searched for quite a while without even finding the four characters “Princess Dehua.”

“Fourteenth Brother, I don’t think this random searching is working,” Yang Xinzhi said while fanning away dust from the bookshelves, “Why not use the imperial order to command the bureau staff to systematically search through the old documents…”

“That’s it!” Li Yuanji suddenly slapped the back of his head, “Damn, how could I forget about her! Why search through documents? With her around, wouldn’t she know everything about these matters with just one question?”