In a thatched hut outside Xianyang city’s vegetable gardens, Wei Shubin sat on a reed mat by the dining table, listening with two men as Chai Yinglu recounted her meeting with Empress Zhangsun in Lizheng Hall. At some point, tears had streamed down her face, dripping onto her chest.
As she wiped her sleeve, she noticed the sky outside had turned completely dark, with no light inside the room, leaving the three others’ figures in the darkness. Li Yuangui let out a long sigh and asked:
“So, the Empress has decided to continue investigating First Sister Yi’s case? With you in charge?”
“To ‘atone for my crimes,'” Chai Yinglu smiled lightly. “The Empress didn’t pardon my crime of complicity in the Da’an Palace treason, only saying she’d temporarily withhold judgment pending my future conduct. Whether to accept the task of investigating Lady Linfen’s case was left to my discretion—how could I refuse?”
“What about the Fourteenth Lord and Yang Dalang?” Wei Shubin couldn’t help asking. “Didn’t the Empress mention them? The Imperial Guards are still searching for them inside and outside the city gates.”
Chai Yinglu sighed: “Of course she mentioned them—if she hadn’t, I would have. I repeated my earlier point that my status makes it inconvenient to visit male officials, so I need Fourteenth Uncle to investigate with me. If the Empress was uncomfortable with that, I could request a pardon from His Majesty myself, to temporarily exempt Fourteenth Uncle and the others from prosecution…”
“What did the Empress say?” Yang Xinzhi asked eagerly.
The female Taoist shook her head: “The Empress said that since Shubin and I are women belonging to the inner palace, she could make decisions about us. But the Fourteenth Lord is already a court official registered with the Imperial Clan Court, appointed by His Majesty—whether to execute or demote him is beyond her authority as Empress. With imperial edicts above and national laws below, she couldn’t interfere arbitrarily anymore…”
“Any more?” Li Yuangui let out a muffled snort.
“Yes, anymore.” Chai Yinglu’s voice was calm. “The Empress also mentioned her previous insistence on having Minister Wei lead the investigation, then forcibly closing the case and rescinding the order—she deeply regrets overstepping her bounds, which led to terrible results. Learning from that mistake, the Empress is determined not to interfere in external politics anymore. Fourteenth Lord’s case will be handled entirely according to law by His Majesty and his ministers.”
This meant the Empress wouldn’t intercede to pardon Li Yuangui and Yang Xinzhi—they could still be arrested and sentenced upon returning to Chang’an…
“However, when I left the palace, I heard some interesting news.” Chai Yinglu gave a light laugh. “The palace servants naturally no longer need to search for Shubin and me, since I’ve turned myself in. The gate guards said that after General Cheng took over the Northern Command, he ordered the clearing of outdated arrest warrants, including those for the monkey-like Fourteenth Lord Li and tower-like Lord Yang—they’ve been canceled… No one will stop you two from entering or leaving the city gates now.”
The three in the room were all greatly excited by this news. Wei Shubin exclaimed joyfully: “Why is this? Could it be that while the Empress openly claims not to interfere in politics, she’s still secretly helping the Fourteenth Lord and the others? After all, the Da’an Hall incident did have its reasons…”
“Yingniang,” Li Yuangui interrupted her, addressing Chai Yinglu, “What exactly are you trying to tell me? Just say it directly.”
“Alright, no more beating around the bush. Fourteenth Uncle, I still want you to investigate First Sister Yi’s case with me—not by the Empress’s order, with no promise of pardon, just as a favor to me, to help visit external officials’ homes for this case. Of course, you understand the risks involved; whether to accept is up to you.”
Li Yuangui was silent for a moment, then sighed and smiled bitterly: “You needn’t even ask. Don’t forget, I received the imperial edict in person and hold a handwritten decree commanding me to continue investigating First Sister Yi’s case, though I… haven’t made much progress. Even if I face serious charges, that investigative duty hasn’t been revoked, so by both reason and righteousness, I should carry out the order.”
Chai Yinglu nodded and pushed forward a cloth bag on the dining table: “Then take a look.”
The bag indeed contained a scroll of paper; the rustling sound of it unfolding was clear, but in the pitch-dark room, nothing written on it could be seen. Chai Yinglu called outside for someone to bring in a light, but Li Yuangui had already held the paper up to the moonlight streaming through the door and peered at it closely, stopping her:
“No need. I know what this is.”
“What is it?” Wei Shubin asked aloud.
“First Sister Yi’s final writing.”
Wei Shubin froze, as the letter Chai Zhiwei had found under First Sister Yi’s pillow at Ganyesi Temple flashed through her mind: “…painfully abandoning kind parents’ nurturing… Qin Yulou leaning toward the phoenix flute’s eternal departure…”
“Did the Empress give this to you?” Li Yuangui asked Chai Yinglu, who nodded: “Yes. I mentioned that before Ganyesi Temple burned down, we found some poetry scrolls she had copied in First Sister Yi’s former residence. I wanted to compare the handwriting to see if this final letter was truly written by her. The three great calligraphers of our time—Ouyang Shuai, Master Yu, and Secretary Chu—are all either senior scholars or close imperial ministers busy with state affairs, all difficult to meet…”
Just then, a bright light appeared at the door as the eunuch accompanying Chai Yinglu entered with a burning torch, having only heard his mistress’s call. Making the best of it, after talking for so long, everyone was thirsty. Yang Xinzhi got up to scoop water from the jar by the door, while Chai Yinglu had the eunuch light the stove.
Wei Shubin stole a glance at Li Yuangui, only to find the young prince also looking at her. Their eyes met briefly before both turned away, with Li Yuangui seeming to give a soft, choking laugh.
“Fourteenth Uncle,” Chai Yinglu asked, “Would you like to know who brought Seventeenth Aunt back to the palace?”
“Of course!” Not just Li Yuangui—this mystery had long puzzled Wei Shubin as well.
The woman dressed as a Taoist smiled and pointed at the eunuch crouching by the stove: “Do you remember him?”
The eunuch was young, only seventeen or eighteen, with dark skin and hard features suggesting some Hu-Di ancestry. Wei Shubin found him somewhat familiar, and just as she recalled where she’d seen him before, Li Yuangui exclaimed:
“Aren’t you that… missing Baonu? From Zixu Temple?”
It was Baonu—Wei Shubin remembered meeting him briefly the first time she saw Atun. He disappeared outside Zixu Temple a few days later, now presumably having been kidnapped by the Tuyuhun assassins who had sneaked into the imperial gardens for arson and murder. He was still alive? And back at Chai Yinglu’s side?
Hearing Li Yuangui and others greet him, Baonu came over and bowed. Chai Yinglu spread her hands and smiled: “Let him tell it himself.”
It turned out that day when Baonu had taken Atun out for a walk, following the scent of blood, they found the hideout of Qibi Luo and the other assassins just as they were killing their severely wounded companion. After a fight, he was taken by the assassins and would have had no hope, but being from Diezhou on the border between Han territory and the Tuyuhun tribes, he had grown up speaking the barbarian language and could communicate with the assassins. The foreigners were struggling with the language barrier and unfamiliar terrain, so he did his best to ingratiate himself, making up many lies about wanting to serve the Khan of his homeland tribe, while helping the foreigners avoid military patrols, hunt, find water, and hide in the imperial gardens, gradually earning their trust.
When Sang Sai led Qibi Luo and others in the night raid on Da’an Palace, they had the movement-impaired An Yanna guard the Seventeenth Princess with Baonu. Unable to act rashly due to the unclear situation, Baonu could only secretly protect the Seventeenth Princess while following An Yanna across the Wei River to Xianyang, hiding in the mule merchant’s warehouse. Until that night when An Yanna, in a foul mood, developed evil intentions toward the Seventeenth Princess, he attacked the barbarian from behind, killing him with one stroke, then helped the Seventeenth Princess escape over the wall and sought refuge at the Xianyang Bridge guard post…
The rest, everyone knew without him saying. Li Yuangui stared at this mixed Han-barbarian young slave and asked:
“Are you truly loyal to the Great Tang? Why?”
Wei Shubin had the same question. Having stayed at Zixu Temple, she knew Chai Yinglu was not known for “kindness and grace” toward servants—the temple people feared her far more than they loved her. Had Baonu ultimately chosen to protect the Seventeenth Princess back to the palace out of loyalty to his former master, or was he forced by circumstances?
The mixed-blood eunuch lowered his head and spoke flatly:
“When this slave was twelve, my hometown was raided by the Bailan Qiang, and everyone in the village was sold into slavery. First, we were driven to build the Fuqi city walls, then I was selected to be sent to the Turk Great Khan. On the way, I was somehow castrated in confusion. At Dingxiang, I was given to Kang Sabao, brought back to Chang’an, given to the Chai household, and entered the imperial gardens to serve the True Master… This is nothing, just this slave’s fate. Two years ago, near the garrison camp, I met a group of guards, and one of them looked familiar. I hesitated to recognize him, but he recognized me first—he was an elder brother from a neighboring family in our village…”
Baonu took a long breath:
“Elder brother told me that after Khagan Jieli was captured, his slaves scattered to various tribal camps. The court issued an edict to pay ransom for border people who had been kidnapped. My father was gone, but my mother and younger brother were ransomed and returned home with several dozen villagers who had survived. The villagers were grateful for the Heaven Khan’s grace, and many able-bodied men like my elder brother joined the military training corps. Those with good skills were selected to come serve in the capital, and unexpectedly I met him… He urged me to ask my master to free me from slavery so I could return home and reunite with my family, but I’m castrated—going back would only invite ridicule… So day and night I pray to Heaven that the Heaven Khan will soon pacify the four barbarian frontiers so my mother and brother can live in peace.”
After these words, the room was silent for a long time. Finally, Li Yuangui broke the silence:
“Yingniang… Early tomorrow morning, we’ll set out for Chang’an.”
Note: During the Zhenguan era, the court made multiple attempts to pay ransom to allow Central Plains farmers captured by nomads to return home—this is not the author’s invention. In the ninth month of Wude 9 (shortly after Li Shimin’s ascension), after the Wei River battle with the Turks, “Jieli was ordered to return the captured Chinese households.” In the twelfth month of Zhenguan 3, the Ministry of Revenue reported that “over 1.2 million Chinese men and women have returned from beyond the frontier or submitted with the Turks, establishing prefectures and counties in the four barbarian regions.” In the fourth month of Zhenguan 5, “gold and silk were used to purchase 80,000 Chinese men and women who had fallen to the Turks during the Sui chaos, all returned to their families.” In the sixth month of Zhenguan 21, “At the end of Sui, many border regions suffered raids… Chinese people previously trapped in barbarian territories gazed south with tears, yearning to return… Things were sent as ransom, provisions given for distant journeys, to send them back to their hometowns.”
At that time, these policies were mainly because the Central Plains population had been severely depleted after the chaos, and the court urgently needed labor to farm, pay taxes, and serve in the military. Of course, these policies were also beneficial for promoting the emperor’s benevolence and kindness to unite people’s hearts, and for the large number of people who had been taken as slaves, being able to return home to live in peace was indeed a very fortunate thing.