Wei Shubin’s scalp tightened with an immediate sense of trouble. On the platform, Chai Yinglu gave a vague acknowledgment before quickly steering the conversation back to the Western Regions and Gaochang.
While the Emperor had ordered his niece not to leak information to Wei Zheng’s daughter, Wei Shubin was already here in the training ground, having seen and heard everything. This was pure coincidence – Chai Yinglu had originally planned to help her seek an audience with the Emperor, but after his words, that seemed impossible, at least for today.
The men and women on the platform continued their aimless chatter. Wei Shubin guessed that Chai Yinglu probably intended to chat idly before withdrawing, quietly taking her back to Zixu Temple to seek another opportunity another day. Though this approach wasn’t unreasonable and was certainly safer, she felt impatient.
She didn’t know when Li Yuanji would depart for Gaochang. The fifty thousand bolts of silk had to be settled before his departure to free him from Kang Sumi’s control – otherwise, wouldn’t all their efforts be wasted?
Standing at attention at the bottom of the stone steps for so long, her waist and legs had begun to ache. Just then, announcements came from afar, with ceremonial flags waving and attendants processing. A palace servant came to report that the Empress’s carriage had arrived.
The arrival of Her Majesty brought its ceremonial procession, suddenly making the interior and exterior of Yong’an Palace bustle with activity. The military officers on the platform bowed to the Emperor and took their leave. Chai Yinglu said, “Your niece will go welcome the Empress.” The Emperor, in excellent spirits, stopped her saying, “I’ll walk a few steps with you to stretch my legs,” and took the lead down the stone steps.
Wei Shubin hurriedly retreated with the other attending palace servants and maids, lowering her head and kneeling. She could only see the swaying of plain robes passing before her eyes. When the palace servants stood up, she saw Chai Yinglu’s back as she attended the Emperor, surrounded by a group of maids and eunuchs carrying yellow silk canopies and other ceremonial items, heading to welcome the Empress’s carriage.
At this time, people were moving chaotically up and down the steps – some guiding the military officers away, some carrying items following the Emperor, and others climbing the steps for unknown purposes. Another group of palace servants hurried over from the direction of the Empress’s carriage. The leader, a middle-aged serving woman, saw Wei Shubin standing motionless and grabbed her, saying, “The Empress is feeling unwell and needs a cool place to rest. We must prepare a comfortable spot for Her Majesty to rest. Young lady, lead us to find a suitable place.”
They had mistaken Wei Shubin for a palace maid serving at Yong’an Palace. Just as she was about to explain her identity, a thought struck her, and she responded with a “Yes,” lifted her skirts to climb the steps, and led the group of palace servants into the large tent on the platform.
The tent’s interior was arranged like a palace hall, divided into several rooms by curtains. Entering through the lifted screen, they faced a couch, writing desk, and screen. One side held sand tables and wooden models, while the other had armor and weapon racks. Wei Shubin caught only a glimpse but felt as if she had walked into a general’s command tent during a military campaign. Behind the screen were maps, books, and drawings, and past two more layers of curtains was a comfortably arranged bed, suggesting the Emperor had stayed overnight in this tent.
There were also attending palace servants inside, but they all assumed Wei Shubin was one of the Empress’s attendants who had come with the older serving woman. Everyone was busy discussing where to prepare a suitable resting place for the Empress, paying little attention to Wei Shubin’s movements as she found a corner storing chests and folding beds, screened by cloth curtains, and slipped in to hide.
She wasn’t trying to see Empress Zhangsun; in fact, she was rather afraid of meeting Chai Yinglu’s second aunt by marriage and wanted to avoid her if possible. She remembered that almost simultaneously with summoning the Empress, the Emperor had also ordered Li Yuanji to be brought. Since the Empress had arrived, Li Yuanji should arrive soon too. Even if she couldn’t have an audience with the Emperor today to present her case, at least… could she see him once?
Having mixed in palace life for so long, she had grown quite bold, knowing that in her plain palace maid’s dress and understanding proper etiquette, she generally wouldn’t attract attention. After Li Yuanji finished his business here and withdrew, she could pretend to be delivering an imperial edict to catch up with him…
Just thinking about it made her face flush and heart race. She sat down on a wooden chest lid, pressing her hand to her chest and listening intently to the movements outside the tent. This corner where miscellaneous items were stored was some distance from both the entrance and the sunshade awning, making it impossible to hear people’s conversations. After waiting a while, she heard the sound of catapults launching stones again outside, presumably the Emperor demonstrating the siege engines for the Empress’s viewing.
Just like a child who had gotten a new toy and couldn’t wait to show it off to family and friends… Though Wei Shubin mentally criticized this, she couldn’t help but smile, feeling a wave of warmth in her heart.
Thinking about how Li Yuanji’s appearance and talents resembled his second brother’s, and his stubborn temperament was similar too, perhaps he would also learn to cherish and dote on his wife as his second brother did.
But Li Yuanji’s primary wife… who would she be?
Just as she was feeling bitter and her nose stinging with emotion, there was movement outside, coming from the direction of the bed, with a group of people calling to each other to “hurry up.” She peeked out to look – it seemed all the maids attending in the tent were walking out. She boldly emerged from her hiding place, but just as she reached the bedside, shadows moved in the outer room uncertainly, making her afraid to venture further out.
At that moment, she was the only one lingering near the newly prepared bed. Two panels of the bed screen were open, the bed curtains were tied back, revealing the cooling mat, jade pillow, and gauze quilt on the bed. On the table before the bed was a newly added incense burner, several scrolls of documents, and writing implements. Wei Shubin glanced over and suddenly noticed half a brocade pouch showing beneath the documents, with a small swaying hairpin embroidered on its corner – the pattern was elegant and the needlework delicate, seemingly a woman’s possession.
Strange – wasn’t this the Emperor’s sleeping quarters? Or did some favored consort regularly attend here?
Before she could complete the thought, as if possessed, she reached out to grasp the pouch and pulled it out to see more clearly. But just as she tugged, footsteps and voices came from the tent entrance – someone was returning.
More troublesome still, people were also approaching from the direction of her previous hiding place among the miscellaneous items, so she couldn’t return there. In her panic, Wei Shubin looked left and right before squeezing behind the only cover – the bed screen, and then… she discovered another hiding place.
Tents were different from buildings. Building walls were vertical to the ground, and beds were usually placed against them with no gap between the bed frame and wall, making them stable and secure. But tent walls were pulled down at an angle and staked to the ground, creating an angle between the fabric wall and the ground. Regular beds couldn’t fit flush against the tent wall, leaving an unsightly black hole behind the bed. To conceal this gap, servants had hung a thick curtain behind the bed, creating a false wall. The angular space behind this false wall was just large enough for a slender young woman to crawl in and hide, sitting with her knees drawn up.
Time was pressing, and Wei Shubin had no leisure to consider the consequences of her actions as she scrambled into the corner, hearing nothing but her pounding heartbeat.
She had barely hidden when she heard several people entering successively, including the Emperor and Empress. Palace servants busied themselves attending to them as they sat down, offering water and fans and handkerchiefs. The Emperor said regretfully, “On such a hot day, I shouldn’t have called you to come – I wasn’t thinking thoroughly.” The Empress laughed through slight coughs, “It’s fine, I’ll be better after resting. Those siege engines were truly impressive and magnificent.”
Hearing his wife’s praise, the Emperor became excited again, repeating to the Empress what he had told Chai Yinglu earlier, then complained, “Wei Zheng and the others just can’t bear to hear about me going to war – they’re so annoying. You don’t take my side either, always helping them argue. But look, both the construction of the engines and the catapults’ accuracy have been tested satisfactorily today. I’m confident now that I can win battles without conscripting so many people to go beyond the frontier – if you happen to meet Wei’s wife or others someday, help me spread the word, tell them to advise their husbands not to be so stubborn and troublesome.”
As he delivered his long speech, the Empress just listened quietly, occasionally giving a soft laugh. Then Chai Yinglu’s voice rang out again, saying with a laugh, “It’s better not to let Lord Xuancheng know. Those old scholars won’t appreciate Your Majesty’s intention to reduce conscription and care for the people – they’ll just find new reasons to submit memorials criticizing Your Majesty for indulging in ‘strange skills and excessive crafts,’ straying further from the way of the ancient sages. According to their theory, there’s only one path to achieving great peace: ‘When the Central Kingdom is at peace, the barbarians will submit naturally.’ Your Majesty should simply cultivate virtue and govern with benevolence, do nothing else, and the August Heaven above will make all nations come to pay tribute.”
The Emperor laughed in approval, and the Empress also chuckled a few times before speaking: “Yingniang, you little flatterer, don’t just say what your uncle wants to hear – no need for that, take it away – doesn’t the Emperor have enough people around him offering pleasant words? The old scholars’ words may be pedantic and useless, but they suffered greatly during the Sui dynasty’s chaos and consider the people’s hardships more thoroughly – that’s a good thing. Though their words to the sovereign may be unpleasant to hear, the sovereign has always been tolerant – this too shows the measure of a ruler, worthy of setting an example for descendants for ten thousand generations. We palace people should do our best to advise His Majesty to suppress anger and practice forbearance, certainly not fan the flames before the throne – understand?”
Though her tone was gentle, the admonishment in her words was clear. Chai Yinglu answered “Yes” and dared not speak further. The couple exchanged some other words, and then the Empress told her niece, “Go back to your temple to rest, your health isn’t good either.” Chai Yinglu agreed and bowed to take her leave, when the Empress added, “Is that your leather pouch that fell on the desk? Keep it safe, don’t lose it.”
“Which one? That’s not mine-“
The Taoist priestess’s voice suddenly cut off, as if sliced through by a knife. The bedroom fell into an eerie silence, and Wei Shubin crouched behind the bed, listening without understanding but with her heart tightening.
After several heartbeats, the Empress commanded quietly, “Bring it to me to see.”
The Emperor let out a heavy breath of unclear meaning but said nothing. Chai Yinglu also remained silent – only the sound of rustling clothes and footsteps could be heard as she presumably went to the writing desk to pick up the brocade pouch Wei Shubin had seen earlier and presented it to the Empress.
Another silence followed, finally broken by the Empress, who calmly said, “You may go.” Chai Yinglu immediately kowtowed and withdrew. The Empress said once more, “You all may go,” and this time several people bowed and left the tent – the Empress had dismissed all the palace servants present.
Near the bed remained only the Emperor and Empress… and Wei Shubin, hidden behind the bed.
She naturally didn’t dare even breathe, one hand gripping her throat to prevent any sound from escaping, as she heard the Empress ask her husband in her still gentle, and refined tone:
“This belongs to Fourth Brother’s wife?”
[Note: The military equipment that Li Shimin was secretly testing in the imperial garden, which these chapters focus on describing, played an important role several years later when the Tang army attacked Gaochang. According to “Old Tang Book Biography 19” in Hou Junzhi’s biography, when he led troops as commander to pacify Gaochang, “Before the great army’s departure, the Emperor had summoned skilled siege equipment craftsmen from Shandong and sent them all with the army. Junzhi then cut wood to fill moats, pushed battering rams to strike their battlements creating holes several zhang wide, and used catapults to strike within their city – nothing they hit failed to be crushed to pieces. Some spread felt coverings to block the thrown stones, but the defenders on the walls could no longer stand firm. Thus they took it, capturing over seven thousand men and women, then advanced to surround their capital city… Though Zhisheng still wouldn’t come out, they ordered soldiers to fill the moats and trenches and launched catapults to attack. They also built observation towers ten zhang high to look down into the city – wherever people walked or stones struck, they would call it out, causing many people to flee indoors to avoid the stones… Zhisheng lost support and had no options left, so he opened the gates and surrendered.”
This was the Tang army using the most advanced weapons of the time to overwhelm their enemy. The main equipment mentioned in historical records includes battering rams, stone catapults, and observation towers (the “towers ten Zhang high”). The line “looking down into the city, calling out wherever people walked or stones struck” literally seems to suggest that the people in the observation towers were just reporting attack results to their forces in real time to boost morale. Some believe this represents the technology of “reporting coordinates to guide catapult targeting,” which is how the novel interprets it, but I doubt whether such advanced technology existed at that time.]