“That position of yours is not easy to maintain either,” the Emperor said to his son. “Although we don’t have the same flesh-and-blood suspicions as in the later Wude period, now with forthright ministers at court daily discussing ancient ways and former sages, measuring me against Yao and Shun, they naturally guard against you becoming like Danzu, constantly offering remonstrance. The imperial clan flourishes, with numerous uncles, nephews, and brothers inevitably varying in character. As your young uncles and brothers gradually grow up, young people’s temperaments are unpredictable. Take your Fourteenth Uncle—last year, your grandfather and I were both pleased with him, thinking him a rare talent. Who could have imagined that within just a few months, he would cause so many incidents?”
Wei Shubin’s heart skipped a beat, and she unconsciously strained her ears, hoping to hear more about Li Yuangui from the Emperor’s mouth. But after Li Chengqian’s vague response, the Emperor quickly changed the subject:
“With the Grand Emperor’s passing, your young uncles and aunts have no one to rely on, but you needn’t worry about them. In your free time, you should focus on maintaining brotherly harmony. Your mother has nearly exhausted herself for all of you brothers! I’ve heard recently that even between you and Qingque, people are stirring up trouble—don’t argue, I have no patience to listen. You’re the elder brother, positioned in the Eastern Palace as Crown Prince, acting as regent yearly. Think about it—how can you face yourself, squabbling with your blood brother? You’re not young anymore, you’ve taken a Crown Princess, you should know what benefits both country and family…”
Speaking of the discord between his sons, the Emperor’s mood grew irritated, and he started walking along the corridor before finishing, with Li Chengqian unable to argue back, forced to follow along listening to the lecture. As father and son talked while walking, their voices gradually faded as they turned the corner and finally disappeared.
Wei Shubin had just started to stretch, about to stand up, when she suddenly remembered it wasn’t time yet and quickly knelt back down. Sure enough, after the Emperor and Crown Prince passed, a group of attending servants appeared shortly after, hurriedly following the father and son while carrying handkerchiefs and walking sticks, careful not to fall too far behind or get too close.
After they disappeared, Wei Shubin, with her sore waist and legs, finally peeked out from behind the pillar curtain. Confirming no one had discovered her, she hurriedly returned to the western chamber of the Taiji Palace, where she found Xiaopu looking for her on Su Lingyu’s orders. She merely said she had gotten lost going in circles, and Xiaopu didn’t ask further, leading her to a secluded partition where, moments later, Su Lingyu indeed brought the Seventeenth Princess.
But contrary to their expectations, although the young princess was happy to see Wei Shubin, she said: “Sister Bin, if only you had come half a day earlier. I spoke with Brother this morning, but he’s no longer in the Taiji Palace.”
“Fourteenth Uncle isn’t keeping vigil in the eastern chamber?” Su Lingyu asked. “Where did he go?”
The Seventeenth Princess shook her head: “I don’t know. While we were talking, I mentioned that Bin was to marry General Cheng, and Brother suddenly became very angry and rushed out…”
Wei Shubin’s legs weakened, and she nearly collapsed. Su Lingyu quickly supported her, first softly comforting her with “Don’t panic,” then asked the Seventeenth Princess a few questions, confirming she didn’t know where her brother had gone, before sending her back to the western chamber. After the young princess left, Wei Shubin said anxiously:
“I must find him! With his explosive temper, I fear he’s gone to make trouble with General Cheng. If they come to blows and someone gets hurt, it will all be my fault!”
“Calm down, A-Bin.” Su Lingyu held her firmly. “Even if the Fourteenth Prince is young and impetuous, would General Cheng be so unreasonable? His Majesty’s trusted general has enough capability to handle a young lord, doesn’t he? If you rush there blindly and the three of you confront each other, what could you possibly say? It would only add fuel to the fire.”
Her words made sense, but Wei Shubin couldn’t listen. Her heart felt stuffed with tangled cotton, so congested she could barely breathe, wanting only to run somewhere and cry out loudly—but this was the main hall of the Taiji Palace, solemn and supreme; she couldn’t even breathe loudly.
Su Lingyu acted decisively, half-dragging her out of the hall, calling for people to prepare travel arrangements in the thunderstorm, saying “It’s getting late, you need to return home,” and leading Wei Shubin out of the palace.
The Princess of Xi and others who had come to pay respects had already been sent back to the palace quarters, where they would observe mourning. The Crown Princess returned to the Eastern Palace, and the group walked to Heaven Street outside the Changle Gate. It was still raining, the street muddy, with hurrying pedestrians whose rain gear seemed useless as everyone was soaked through.
The gateway of Changle Gate still provided some shelter from the rain, so Lady Su stopped there and ordered carriages from the Eastern Palace stables—one for Wei Shubin to return home.
As Wei Shubin was verbally declining, the two women stood in the gateway talking, when suddenly they saw three to five riders galloping through the heavy rain. The leader was swaying unsteadily in his saddle, and upon reaching Changle Gate, he pulled his horse to a stop and immediately bent over vomiting.
The riders behind caught up, steadying the horses while helping the man dismount and supporting him toward the gateway. Though not too close, Su Lingyu and Wei Shubin’s group could see their actions and fortunately weren’t close enough to be affected by the smell. Seeing a group of men entering, they instinctively drew back deeper into the gateway.
Everyone wore rain gear, making it difficult to distinguish faces or even genders. The gate guards came forward to check, and Wei Shubin heard them say “It’s Deputy Minister Wen,” which struck a chord—she felt she had heard this title somewhere before.
The vomiting, dismounted Deputy Minister Wen was drunk, and as soon as he was supported into the gateway, a strong smell of alcohol wafted over. The others, seemingly his attendants and subordinates, fussed over him while arguing, “He needs to report to Xiande Hall in the Eastern Palace, what should we do?”
With the Emperor in mourning seclusion, the Crown Prince was acting as regent, handling daily affairs in Xiande Hall of the Eastern Palace. From their tone, Deputy Minister Wen had been summoned by Li Chengqian but had unfortunately gotten drunk first—drinking while on duty was already a serious offense, and during the national mourning period when alcohol and entertainment were forbidden, knowingly violating this would add at least one more degree to his punishment.
That wasn’t all. Through the sound of pouring rain, the drunken Deputy Minister Wen on the ground was still slurring:
“In… in such heavy rain, drinking… drinking and singing is… is the right thing to do… What’s the Eastern Palace… borrowing the tiger’s… tiger’s might… making things difficult…”
“Seventeenth Young Lord!” His companions quickly covered his mouth, glancing at the guards and others standing in the gateway. “This won’t do. With the heavy rain and slippery roads, Seventeenth Young Lord has taken such a fall, his face is twisted—there’s no way he can see the Crown Prince now.”
“Indeed!” Another person said, “Let’s just report to the Eastern Palace that Deputy Minister Wen was startled by his horse in the mud, fell from his saddle, and injured his bones, so he cannot enter the hall to report today… Quick, let’s go…”
Having agreed, they supported Deputy Minister Wen and rushed back into the rain, leading their horses away. Wei Shubin turned to look at Su Lingyu, seeing the Crown Princess slightly biting her lip and softly snorting:
“Who knows which temple’s deputy minister this is, serving with such… diligence…”
“Deputy Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, surname Wen, ranked seventeenth,” Wei Shubin smiled at her. “The Court of State Ceremonial manages funeral matters. The Crown Prince probably summoned him in this heavy rain to inquire about rain protection measures for the ceremonial implements, interrupting his drinking and entertainment.”
This complaint felt wonderfully satisfying. Wei Shubin recalled how Wen the Seventeenth had deliberately made things difficult for the Chai Prince Consort’s household during the bestowal of funeral gifts for the Princess of Linfen. This truly was karmic retribution… If only Chai Yinglu had been here to see it.
Thinking of Chai Yinglu, she had a sudden flash of inspiration, understanding where she needed to go now.
When the two carriages from the Eastern Palace arrived, Su Lingyu bid her farewell and ordered attendants to escort her back to Minister Wei’s residence in Yongxing Ward. Wei Shubin agreed, took leave of the Crown Princess, and boarded the carriage. After passing Heaven Street and Anfu Gate, traveling east for less than a bowshot’s distance, she poked her head out of the carriage window, looked around to ensure no one was watching, then took out her silk handkerchief and carefully twisted it into the wheel axle gap.
The street was full of muddy puddles, with the two large wooden wheels stuck in the ruts. The ox pulled with difficulty, slipping with each step. With the silk handkerchief tangled in the axle throwing off the center of gravity, the carriage immediately became stuck in a large hole, the entire body unable to move. The Eastern Palace escorts and driver came to investigate, frowning and sighing repeatedly.
Wei Shubin also donned a rain cape and hat to dismount, saying “I’m not far from home, I can walk back myself,” ignoring the servants’ attempts to dissuade her as she slipped away into the rain.
Note: “When the Grand Emperor served as Prefecture Chief of Zhengzhou, stationed in the Xingyang region”: Li Yuan’s early official positions under the Sui dynasty are mostly recorded in his biography in the Tang histories. The Complete Tang Texts also includes Li Yuan’s “Prayer for His Son’s Illness at Caotang Temple,” which reads: “Li Yuan, Prefecture Chief of Zhengzhou, prayed to Buddha at this temple for his son Shimin who was ill. Through Buddha’s grace, his illness was alleviated. Now for my son, I have erected a stone statue, hoping this merit will benefit my son and our entire family, bringing complete blessings and forever removing obstacles. Disciple Li Yuan offers with single-minded devotion.”
So when Li Yuan served as a local official in Zhengzhou (later renamed Xingyang Commandery—the two names refer to the same place, not far from today’s Zhengzhou, capital of Henan Province) in the early Daye era, he had his second son with him. In the story, the blood jade ring is set as “a ceremonial device from burial goods that washed out when floods destroyed several Yin-Shang royal tombs.” As mentioned before, the blood jade ring’s reference prototype is the one excavated from Lady Fu Hao’s tomb in Anyang, Henan (shown in Figure 2). Here it’s established that similar ceremonial devices existed in other Shang royal tombs in Anyang, which were washed out of the tombs during the Sui dynasty and eventually made their way to the prefectural city, where they were presented to Li Yuan.