This was the westernmost courtyard of Princess Pingyang’s mansion. With its front and back sections, tranquil trees in the courtyard, and meticulously swept corridors and pavilions, it appeared at first glance no different from the chambers of young ladies from ordinary wealthy families. However, Wei Shubin was informed that this courtyard technically “did not exist.”
She and Chai Yinglu hadn’t entered through the main gate of Commissioner Chai’s residence. Instead, they had quietly slipped in through a side door of a Taoist temple west of the Chai mansion, winding their way eastward. Along the way, Chai Yinglu explained that this temple was called “Qian Jin Guan,” originally serving as the lodging place for her master Sun Yaowang when he came to the capital. Although Sun Simiao was now in the capital, he remained in Da’an Palace attending to the Emperor Emeritus, unable to leave without imperial decree. Qian Jin Guan housed only a few Taoist priests and was quite secluded and quiet.
This double courtyard was wedged between Commissioner Chai’s mansion and Qian Jin Guan’s. According to Chai Yinglu, the regular servants of the Chai household assumed everything east of the courtyard’s eastern wall belonged to Qian Jin Guan, while the temple’s novices believed everything west of the courtyard’s western wall was part of the Chai residence. In broad daylight, the double courtyard remained hidden from many eyes.
There were familiar faces in the small courtyard. As soon as the two women entered, Taoist nun Jing Xuan, who had previously managed affairs at Purple Void Temple, came forward to greet them warmly. Wei Shubin then learned that after the night chaos at Da’an Palace, Chai Yinglu had instructed Jing Xuan to leave Purple Void Temple with them and return to Guangde Ward. The nun hadn’t openly returned to the Chai residence but had secretly taken refuge in this small courtyard. Later, when people from the palace and Wei’s family came to the Chai residence several times looking for the two women, the Chai household always responded that they didn’t know their whereabouts. Jing Xuan hadn’t dared to show herself, remaining in this small courtyard and sending servants to communicate with Hu Xiansi.
The chambers in the back section had been prepared for Chai and Wei to stay in temporarily. As Jing Xuan led the way while talking, Wei Shubin, being the guest, was courteously allowed to walk in front. As she climbed the steps of the connecting hall platform between the front and back sections and crossed the threshold, she looked up and let out a startled “Ah!”
Facing her inside the door was a man wearing a formal cap.
The man wore loose-sleeved robes and stood with his hands clasped beside a standing desk, his handsome features carrying a hint of heroic spirit. Wei Shubin, completely unprepared to encounter a man in this small courtyard, stumbled backward in shock, tripping over the threshold.
“Oh my—Shubin, your clumsy habit…” She fell into a soft, fragrant embrace as Chai Yinglu’s gentle laughter came from above her head. “Oh, were you startled by this statue?”
Sta…statue?
Steadied by Chai Yinglu, Wei Shubin entered the hall and looked up carefully. Indeed it was… although this statue looked remarkably lifelike!
The statue, carved from some sort of jade or stone, depicted a tall figure with a formal cap, elegant eyebrows, phoenix eyes, and lips curved in a slight smile. The black sideburns visible beneath the cap were carved with visible detail, and the hanging sleeves seemed to flutter with lifelike movement. The skin at the crossed collar was smooth and slightly raised, with a reddish birthmark on the neck… wait?
“Sister Ying…” Wei Shubin turned to look at the courtyard’s mistress. “Is this your statue?”
Looking carefully, the features were indeed very similar, but the statue had an obvious mustache, so it should be a man, right? However… the statue’s neck was smooth and fair, without an Adam’s apple.
“You’re killing me. I’m too young to have statues made of myself,” Chai Yinglu laughed. “No wonder you’re confused—this is a statue of my late mother, Princess Pingyang Zhao, in male attire.”
Wei Shubin suddenly understood and hurriedly paid her respects to the statue on the altar, apologizing for her irreverence. Chai Yinglu returned the gesture beside her, taking her hand to help her up, then turned to ask Jing Xuan, “When was the Princess’s statue moved back here?”
“After the Young Lord’s seventh-day memorial service, the Commissioner ordered it moved back, saying it was too painful to look at,” Jing Xuan replied. Chai Yinglu nodded and instructed to “add another incense burner for offerings,” then said she needed to see her father and asked Jing Xuan to attend to Lady Wei’s rest, before taking her leave.
Wei Shubin couldn’t help but keep gazing at the jade statue, finding herself more mesmerized the longer she looked, reluctant to leave. When Jing Xuan had someone bring an incense box to add offerings, Wei Shubin volunteered to help. She knelt with the middle-aged nun on the low platform before the altar, slowly placing charcoal in the burner, burying ash, adding mica separators, and burning incense balls, while engaging in casual conversation as they worked.
“…This statue was usually enshrined in this small courtyard. Before the eldest son’s wedding, the Commissioner had it cleaned and moved to the main hall, saying he wanted the new daughter-in-law from Linfen to pay respects to her aunt and uncle when she arrived… Alas.”
“The Master truly looks like her late mother, even down to the red birthmark on the neck?”
“Not the same—the young lady’s birthmark is on the left, while the Princess’s is on the right, and they differ in size and shape. The Princess’s mother, Empress Dowager Dou, also had this birthmark, though hers was lower, on her chest. So in the eighth year of Daye during the former Sui dynasty, when the Princess returned to her maiden home to give birth and delivered our young lady, her mother-in-law took one look at the mark on the baby’s neck and laughed heartily, saying ‘This female-only mark has appeared again, this time it looks like Guanyin Bodhisattva’s necklace of precious stones’…”
So that’s how Chai Yinglu got her milk name from her grandmother, the current Emperor’s mother Lady Dou… But to say it was “passed down only to daughters generation after generation” wasn’t entirely accurate.
“That red birthmark was also passed down to Empress Dowager Dou’s youngest son, Fourth Prince Yuanji, just not in the right place, so she refused to acknowledge it… When the Fourth Prince was born, he had a large birthmark on his right cheek that looked like a bloody footprint, quite unsightly. Moreover, people in their homeland of Hedong considered it an ill omen, saying it meant he was stepped on by a ghost during reincarnation and would bring negative energy and disasters to the family. Empress Dowager Dou was furious, and since the Fourth Prince’s birth had been difficult and caused her much suffering, it further confirmed the ‘disaster star entering the household.’ In her anger, she ordered the servants to abandon the Fourth Prince and not raise him.”
Wei Shubin exclaimed in surprise, thinking she might have heard this story before. Later, Fourth Prince Yuanji’s wet nurse Chen Shanyi secretly kept and nursed the baby until the head of the family, Li Yuan, returned. And after that… she shook her head, not wanting to think further.
She asked many questions. From the first time she heard about Princess Pingyang’s deeds at age five or six, she had felt inexplicable admiration for this female hero of the Tang dynasty’s founding. Back then, with a child’s simple mind, she had only thought “How amazing to be a princess who could lead armies and fight battles,” but now, having “seen” her childhood idol and hearing old stories from someone who knew her, she felt a different kind of emotion stirring in her heart.
“This statue is quite peculiar. Though I was too young to have the fortune of seeing Princess Pingyang’s heroic bearing in person, I’ve heard countless praises of it. Why not make a statue of her in women’s clothing? That would surely be even more beautiful and moving.”
“Don’t underestimate the craftsman of this statue, Lady Wei. He was from a royal family beyond the flowing sands, with the surname… ah, yes, Yuchi, the same as today’s Great General. What was his name… this servant truly can’t remember clearly, only that he had entered China to serve as an official during the Sui dynasty, and was especially skilled at portraiture and Buddha statues, already quite famous during the Daye era. At that time, when families in Chang’an were building homes or renovating temples, they all competed to invite him to paint and sculpt. He was truly the capital’s finest artist, far more renowned than the Yan brothers today.”
“Could it be Yuchi Bazhina? I’ve heard of his great reputation too, they say he was a Western Regions artist whose style was completely different from those of Central Plains. When he painted people on paper or walls, though it was flat, it appeared three-dimensional, like real people. So this statue was Bazhina’s masterpiece? No wonder it startled me.”