Chatting along the way, Wei Shubin asked how Su Lingyu had been these days. The Crown Princess gave a faint smile and replied, “Better than when I first married.” It turned out that after she was injured and bedridden at Palace Servants’ Lane in early spring, Crown Prince Li Chengqian seemed to feel somewhat guilty and treated her more gently during her recovery. Of course, it wasn’t quite “tender loving care” yet, but he would at least come to check on her every few days, sitting down to tell her what the Emperor and Empress had instructed and asked for her opinions.

After marrying into the Eastern Palace, Su Lingyu spent most of her time serving Empress Zhangsun, understanding her mother-in-law far better than her husband. She had offered several suggestions and even drafted memorials for the Crown Prince, which were all well-received and earned praise from her in-laws. As a result, though there might not be much conjugal affection between her and her husband yet, at least the Crown Prince showed her more respect and heeded her counsel.

Hearing this, Wei Shubin naturally felt happy for her friend. Su Lingyu had always been an intelligent and learned woman; even if Li Chengqian felt no attraction toward his wife, he should have valued her capabilities. Perhaps with time spent nearby, feelings might develop…

“The Empress has always shown me great favor. I only fear disappointing Mother-in-law’s expectations and failing the important tasks she’s entrusted to me,” Su Lingyu sighed again. “Seeing the Empress grow weaker day by day makes me anxious… When the Grand Emperor passed away, the Empress had so many matters to attend to, yet the moment she recovered slightly, she grabbed my hand asking if there was any news, saying she wished to hold her legitimate grandson in her lifetime…”

The word “grandson” wasn’t fully spoken before the Crown Princess blushed and fell silent. Wei Shubin couldn’t help but laugh, understanding the Empress’s meaning—during the mourning period for their grandfather, Li Chengqian and his wife couldn’t share chambers according to ritual propriety. If Su Lingyu hadn’t conceived by now, they would have to wait two or three years—and Empress Zhangsun feared she might not live that long—

A thunderclap rolled across the sky, and Wei Shubin suddenly froze.

Was the Empress’s anxiety about her daughter-in-law’s pregnancy only due to the mourning period and her illness?

In Cihe Temple, the child in Princess Yang of Hailing’s womb must be seven or eight months along by now… If it was a girl, that would be fine, but what if it was a boy?

The Guanlong old families placed great importance on legitimate versus illegitimate births. The Grand Emperor’s eldest son Li Jiancheng was born to his primary wife, and the Emperor’s eldest son Li Chengqian was also born to his original consort. If the Eastern Palace’s firstborn was also from the Crown Princess, having three generations of legitimate eldest sons would make for quite a pleasant tale. Wei Shubin recalled what the deceased Nurse He Ba of the Linfen County Princess had said: the former Crown Prince Li Jiancheng, wanting a legitimate eldest son, had promised his two pregnant concubines that “whoever bears a son will be made primary consort,” and indeed, when Zheng Guanyin bore a son, she was elevated to Crown Princess… How unseemly would it be if Li Chengqian’s firstborn came from a woman involved in incest?

“Shubin?” Su Lingyu gently touched her arm. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

Wei Shubin looked up at her, her heart aching. Though this secret had nothing to do with Su Lingyu originally, it would eventually come to light, and after the inevitable upheaval, the one who would suffer heartache, humiliation, and exhaustion would likely be this innocent, good woman…

I must tell her, Wei Shubin decided in an instant. Since Su Lingyu absolutely couldn’t remain uninvolved, it would be better to let her prepare early and handle it with composure. She couldn’t let her own reluctance and desire to avoid responsibility lead her to deceive Su Lingyu like others had, leaving her deaf and blind in ignorance, unprepared for what might happen when the truth finally emerged.

She pulled Su Lingyu aside, away from others, and in a lowered voice, as calmly and carefully as possible, gradually told her about Princess Yang of Hailing’s pregnancy. The Crown Princess, perhaps having weathered many storms, was more composed than Wei Shubin had imagined. Apart from the color gradually draining from her face, she made no sound or response.

By the time the conversation ended, they had reached the Tongming Gate of the Yeting Palace. The Crown Princess collected herself for a moment and only said to Wei Shubin: “I understand. Don’t mention this to anyone else.” Then she gave Wei Shubin a pale smile before leading her group inside.

Inside the gate, more than ten women wearing rain gear were already waiting. The leading lady exchanged greetings with the Crown Princess, and Wei Shubin realized it was Zheng Guanyin, the long-unseen Princess of Xi Wang. Behind her were naturally the daughters of Li Jiancheng and Li Yuanji, their rain capes revealing mourning hemp clothing underneath.

More than ten women of various ages, led by the Crown Princess, departed Yeting Palace for Taiji Palace. It appeared they were being granted the favor of allowing the Grand Emperor’s eldest daughter-in-law and granddaughters to pay respects at the spirit tablet. Wei Shubin shrank back among the palace maids, quietly following into the hall. With more people coming and going here, she feared being recognized and carefully followed step by step to the west wing of the main hall.

Then chaos ensued. The Grand Emperor’s spirit tablet was set up in the main hall, with male mourners in the east and female mourners in the west, but the imperial family was different from ordinary noble families. Among the mourning relatives, there was a large group of princes with royal titles, and among the female relatives, there were dozens in deep mourning including the Grand Emperor’s consorts, the Emperor’s consorts, princesses of various ranks, and princesses consort. Though Taiji Palace was spacious, both the east and west wings were packed full every day. Now with Zheng Guanyin bringing more than ten daughters and nieces to pay respects, the female section had to make room for them to perform mourning rituals, inevitably causing bustling and pushing, while servants of various noble ladies waited outside the steps for orders, creating a busy commotion inside and out.

Wei Shubin couldn’t follow Su Lingyu to the spirit tablet, and could only remain on the steps trying to identify people. She finally glimpsed a young lady emerging from the crowd who looked like the Seventeenth Princess, but when she tried to approach to speak with her, after a few steps the princess disappeared into the crowd. The flow of people became increasingly chaotic, and she was carried along involuntarily, getting closer to the east wing. Suddenly an idea struck her: why not go directly to where the men were mourning and find a chance to call Li Yuan Gui out for a meeting?

In this chaos, no one would notice someone in palace maid’s attire. So she gathered her courage and tried to find her way around the connecting corridor. But either she took a wrong turn or something else happened, because although she felt she was heading east, there were fewer and fewer people in the corridor, and she seemed to have circled to the back of the main hall. Among the thick pillars and layers of white hemp curtains, she saw the open back door, beyond which was the gloomy sky and endless sound of rain.

At this moment, a voice reached her ears: “…reported to the Empress that the Princess of Xi Wang has brought those cousin County Princesses.”

The speaker was still far away, but Wei Shubin recognized the voice distinctly as Crown Prince Li Chengqian speaking to someone, his tone quite respectful. Startled, Wei Shubin looked around and, seeing no one nearby, quickly retreated to hide between a giant pillar and the curtains, kneeling with her head lowered like a palace maid, trying to avoid attention.

“Is that so? I was wondering why the west side suddenly became so chaotic,” this voice was even more familiar, with a slightly impatient tone, far more arrogant than Li Chengqian’s. “Is your wife accompanying your mother handling things on the west side? Tell her to take more care; your mother’s health seems to be deteriorating these days.”

The Emperor and his son walked over while talking, stopping just inside the back door. The Emperor paused, half-turning to look out at the rain curtain, taking a deep breath as if trying to clear the stifling air from inside the hall. Li Chengqian stood beside his father, silent.

Wei Shubin, kneeling not far from the two men, although hidden by the lacquered pillar and plain curtains, couldn’t help but tremble with fear, keeping her head down and hoping this father and son would quickly leave without recognizing her. But contrary to her wishes, although the pair remained silent for a while, creating a somewhat awkward atmosphere, they didn’t move their feet, as if the Emperor found this spot by the door pleasant for listening to the wind and watching the rain.

The Emperor finally spoke, asking his son, “What are you holding?”

Li Chengqian made a vague sound and replied, “Mother just gave it to me, I haven’t opened it to look…”

Wei Shubin couldn’t suppress her curiosity and inadvertently raised her head to peek, seeing the Crown Prince present something like a silk package to his father. The Emperor took it and lifted the covering, bending his head to look closely, using the light from outside to examine it. He made a sound of recognition and smiled, saying, “Ah, it’s this jade thumb ring… It’s good that your mother gave it to you.”

Jade thumb ring… Wei Shubin was shocked. Could it be the blood-stained jade thumb ring found in Linfen County Princess’s chambers?

The last time she heard Chai Yuli mention this object, it was in the Empress’s possession, and the Empress had also ordered Chai Yuli to thoroughly investigate Li Wanxi’s death. Why had the Empress now given this jade thumb ring to Li Chengqian? Was she hinting that the One-Mother case need not be investigated further? Or had she already learned the truth about the case?

Did the Emperor know about Li Chengqian’s connection to the One-Mother case? Judging by how he looked at the jade thumb ring, he seemed somewhat surprised. After staring at it for a moment, he asked his son: “Do you know the history of this object?”

“Mother said it was… something Your Majesty bestowed when we were still in Hedong,” Li Chengqian answered, his tone indifferent. His father sighed:

“Though not wrong, even your mother doesn’t know that this trinket originally belonged to… your elder uncle.”

Author’s Note:

There isn’t much visual documentation available about what “rain gear” looked like during the Tang Dynasty. Figure 1 shows the “Farming in Rain” mural from Dunhuang caves, where we can see farmers wearing bamboo hats (Douli) to avoid rain while working in the fields. Of course, the royal family and nobles would have had more luxurious and refined rain gear. However, considering that even up until the Qing Dynasty, as described in “Dream of the Red Chamber,” wealthy households’ young masters and ladies primarily wore bamboo hats and rain capes, the changes in this aspect probably weren’t significant.

Regarding written records, there are several mentions of “rain clothes” in the early Tang period. For example, in Zizhi Tongjian’s account of the nineteenth year of Zhenguan, when Li Shimin personally led the campaign against Goguryeo, it states “he wore bow and arrows, and tied rain clothes behind his saddle,” Though we don’t know the material and style of these rain clothes, we learn that warriors customarily tied their rain gear to their saddles during campaigns.

Additionally, “Tang Yu Lin” contains an entry: “Gu Nalü, who served as Remonstrance Official during the Zhenguan period, was called the ‘Nine Classics Repository’ by Chu Suiliang. During the Yonghui period, he once went hunting, and when it rained during the journey, Emperor Gaozong asked, ‘How can oil clothes be made not to leak?’ He replied, ‘If made with tiles, they wouldn’t leak,’ implying his disapproval of hunting. Emperor Gaozong deeply appreciated this and rewarded him with two hundred bolts of silk.” — From this, we can see that the emperor’s rain gear was also called “oil clothes,” and I speculate it was made of thick fabric treated with oil to repel water.]