Sitting so close, the Empress’s body warmth and fragrance gently enveloped Wei Shubin in a deep, rich aroma. The incense used in Lizheng Hall was primarily agarwood, mild and reserved, but having dealt with medicinal herbs at Zixu Temple these past days, Wei Shubin’s sensitive nose detected an underlying medicinal scent on the Empress that was deeply ingrained, impossible to mask.
This was not a good sign… She daringly raised her eyelashes slightly, only daring to look as far as the Empress’s chin, and saw that although the Imperial Mother’s neck was elegantly shaped and powdered, it was far too thin, with tendons and veins visible beneath the skin – a somewhat alarming sight. The Empress was in good spirits today, and though she looked elegant after her morning toilette, her appearance could only bear distant viewing, not such scrutiny.
Under careful observation, she was still a chronically ill patient taking long-term medication…
“This humble one is worthless, causing Your Majesty worry – I deserve death ten thousand times over,” Wei Shubin responded, lowering her head. “After leaving the palace, I can only burn incense and pray daily, beseeching the Heavenly Emperor to bless our Great Tang with peace and prosperity, and the Emperor and Empress with ten thousand years of health.”
The Empress smiled: “I appreciate your kind intentions. I know my own body – I may not even outlast the Emperor Emeritus in Da’an Palace… But let’s not speak of this. Are your dowry and wedding clothes all prepared? I’ve been thinking, since your father has rendered great service to the imperial family and state, and this being his first daughter’s wedding, I should bestow some gifts – but I don’t know what you’d like?”
Wei Shubin pondered briefly, her heart suddenly racing. She couldn’t help glancing at Chai Yingluo first, and seeing what she thought was encouragement – or at least no obvious disapproval – on the Daoist priestess’s face. Never mind everything else – this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity…
She withdrew her hand from the Empress’s delicate grasp, rose, bent her knees, and knelt properly before the bed, touching her forehead to the ground:
“This humble one has but one wish. If Your Majesty would graciously grant it, I, Wei, would be eternally grateful and repay this kindness even in my next life.”
Empress Zhangsun didn’t respond immediately, seeming to sigh softly.
“The Emperor Emeritus’s Fourteenth Son, Prince of Wu,” these titles left her lips almost accompanied by a splash of blood, “though young and rash in his actions, has a pure heart and never intended to harm the country or his family. Moreover, he saved this humble one’s life… Now I have received imperial pardon, yet the Prince faces judgment at court. I am sick with worry, unable to eat or sleep, wishing I could take his place… His Majesty always respects and heeds Your Majesty’s counsel. If Your Majesty would speak for the Prince, I…”
Wei Shubin couldn’t continue, lying prostrate and gasping with sobs, though no tears would come. She heard the Empress sigh again above her, not responding directly but calling out:
“Ying’er, you counsel her.”
Then came the rustle of silk robes and Chai Yingluo’s familiar fragrance as the Daoist priestess partially lifted her:
“Ah Bin, you don’t understand, stop speaking… The Prince of Wu’s case has already been registered with the Ministry of Justice, Clan Court, and Court of Judicial Review. Minister Wei, Judge Sun, and Clan Court Director Li – several upright officials – have already remonstrated with His Majesty in person about this, and it’s all recorded in the daily court records. This isn’t something that can be erased by the Empress asking a favor or His Majesty showing mercy, and it’s not appropriate for the inner palace to become involved, lest it invite accusations of government interference. Your plea is simply putting the Empress in a difficult position.”
Wei Shubin trembled in her arms, her breath caught in her chest. After several gasps, she steeled herself and blurted out:
“I know this puts Your Majesty in a difficult position, but there are precedents… In early Zhenguan, Commander of the Right Gate Guards Zhangsun planned rebellion with others and should have been sentenced to death, but Your Majesty, setting aside grudges and returning evil with good, intervened to save his family’s lives… When the Duke of Qi became Prime Minister, it was Your Majesty who insisted he be relieved, not wanting imperial relatives to dominate the government… Those were Your Majesty’s brothers, and you could manage their affairs. The Prince of Wu is His Majesty’s brother, and as his sister-in-law, Your Majesty should…”
“Ah Bin!”
The sharp interruption came from Chai Yingluo. Since their time at Zixu Temple, Wei Shubin had never heard her use such a severe tone of rebuke:
“How dare you speak to Her Majesty this way? Have you forgotten all propriety and etiquette!”
By bringing up the examples of the Zhangsun brothers – Anye and Wuji – Wei Shubin had essentially accused the Empress of only caring about her brothers and willing to interfere in politics only for the Zhangsun family, while remaining indifferent to her husband’s brothers. This cut to the heart of the matter and was a serious offense. Wei Shubin had already put her life on the line, and she raised her face to look directly at the Empress’s countenance, ready to accept the consequences.
Empress Zhangsun didn’t explode in anger or frost over with severity. Her expression remained calm, though her gaze shifted away from the two women before her to the distant willow-lined shores of the lake. After a moment of silence, she ordered her palace maids:
“Tell Seventeen and Zhi’er and the others to rest a while, have some fruit juice, and prepare to return.”
The palace maids acknowledged and carried the refreshment table over to the group of children. The Empress then turned to Chai Yingluo and asked:
“Ying’er, have you found any new developments in the Linfen County Princess case at Gangye Temple?”
The new development was that they had found the prime suspect, Princess Hailing’s consort née Yang, hiding in a nunnery, but she was pregnant, and Chai Yingluo had decided not to press her further, not daring to even mention this to the Empress… The Daoist priestess knelt and lowered her head, responding only: “Not yet.” The Empress fell silent again.
In the third month of spring, the sunlight shone brilliantly from overhead, dazzling to the eyes. Occasional breezes carried fallen flowers, leaves, and willow catkins drifting through the air, seeming to clog even the vast expanse of sky and earth. This wordless silence weighted it, pressing increasingly heavily on Wei Shubin’s shoulders as her waist grew more sore and trembling, uncertain how much longer she could endure.
“Her delicate hand breaks the branch, how the flowers scatter in the wind. Please tell that fair maiden, why cause such harm?” the Empress softly recited lines from an old poem, then said to Chai Yingluo: “No discoveries are better than wrongly forcing someone to take the blame. I’m not rushing you, but the County Princess’s funeral and burial are approaching. Without determining the cause of death, we can’t properly write her epitaph. When she meets your mother the Princess in the underworld, I fear she won’t be able to explain clearly… You, Lady Chai’s capabilities – others may not know, but how could I not understand? After so many days of investigation with nothing to report, either you haven’t put your heart into it, or… there are reasons.”
Chai Yingluo only bowed her head in apology, not daring to speak. Wei Shubin beside her also didn’t dare interject, only listening as the Empress turned to her and spoke calmly:
“The private exchanges between Miss Wei and the Prince of Wu, though improper by law and custom – who hasn’t had their moment of youthful romance? His Majesty and I both turned a blind eye, pretending we hadn’t heard. It’s admirable that General Cheng shares this understanding and has made a proper proposal, purely out of sincerity and goodwill. It must be my fate to always worry and labor over others – thinking of how Bin’er has been implicated in the palace garden incident these past days and suffered quite a bit, I wanted to look after you more. I also feared you might act rashly and bring more trouble to Minister Wei’s family, General Cheng’s family, and even the Fourteenth Prince. Now it seems I was meddling unnecessarily.”
Though her tone remained characteristically gentle and calm, Wei Shubin broke out in a cold sweat hearing these words, prostrate and not knowing how to respond. The Empress continued:
“In the past, Yang Shuzi submitted a memorial requesting to attack Wu. When many opposed, Master Yang sighed that life’s imperfections commonly occupy seven or eight parts out of ten. Even such a great man, establishing his reputation at court and winning the people’s support in governance, with a ‘Tear-dropping Stele’ to commemorate him for a thousand years, still made such a melancholy observation. We women, playing with tiles and grass as children, growing up to bring glory to husbands and sons, dedicating our lives to our husbands’ families’ prosperity – how dare we cling to personal grievances given our modest private concerns?”
These words, while ostensibly admonishing Wei Shubin not to cling to private feelings and to cultivate virtue and propriety, carried an odd tone… Wei Shubin glanced up again and saw the Empress wasn’t looking directly at her in serious criticism, but gazing at the distant horizon with slightly furrowed brows. Rather than rebuking her, she seemed to be sighing or even… self-mocking.
But how could that be? Other women might have cause to lament, but Empress Zhangsun had married well at thirteen, rising in status alongside her husband, from bride of the Duke of Tang to Princess of Qin’s consort, then becoming Empress and mother to the realm. She bore three sons and four daughters, always respected and loved by her husband – they were like paired phoenix and dragon, a divine couple. The entire court revered her virtue, and who in the country didn’t envy her fate? To hear “life’s imperfections commonly occupy seven or eight parts out of ten” from her lips was truly startling.
“Life spans but a brief time, with hardships in between,” Chai Yingluo also sighed in verse, turning to counsel Wei Shubin. “Being born human carries karmic debts from past lives – we can barely maintain our cultivation and repay these, how can we expect everything to go as we wish? Moreover, what you seek isn’t actually against propriety or morality. The Empress, as a model of feminine virtue and an example for all women under heaven, has already shown exceptional grace by not investigating private matters further. Ah Bin, don’t press for more than your due.”
“Even if you were to press, you’ve chosen the wrong person,” the Empress surprisingly continued, giving a faint smile. “When there are those close to you who could exert great influence, yet you come to plead with me – you’ve knocked on the wrong temple door.”
“?” Wei Shubin was confused. Who was the Empress suggesting she should petition instead?
“His Majesty has always wanted to protect his Fourteenth Brother, but now the court’s guardians of law and justice refuse to bend,” Empress Zhangsun explained. “The leader of our dynasty’s upright officials is considered to be your father, Minister Xuancheng. If you wish to save the Fourteenth Prince, you might try asking your father first.”
Note: 1. The Yang Shuzi mentioned by Empress Zhangsun refers to Yang Hu, a famous minister of the Jin Dynasty. In his later years, he was responsible for the front line in the Jin-Wu confrontation. Although he didn’t conquer Eastern Wu, he won people over with virtue, earning respect from both sides emperors and people for his character. His famous saying “Life’s imperfections commonly occupy seven or eight parts out of ten” is still widely quoted today, thanks in part to its appearance in “The Return of the Condor Heroes”…
2. The “court’s xiezhi” specifically refers to officials of the Court of Judicial Review, Ministry of Justice, and Censorate, but broadly includes ministers known for their forthright remonstrance. The xiezhi (xiè zhì) is a legendary divine beast, China’s native unicorn. Yang Fu’s “Record of Strange Creatures” states: “In the northeastern wilderness there is a beast called xiezhi, with one horn and a loyal nature. Seeing people fight, it goes the one in the wrong; hearing people argue, it bites the incorrect one.” The annotations to “Selections of Refined Literature” note: “The xiezhi resembles a deer but has one horn. When a ruler’s punishments are just, it appears in court and charges those who are wrong.” When cases were debated in court, the xiezhi could point its horn at the unreasonable party, even goring them to death. Thus, it’s said that Emperor Yao’s minister of justice Gao Yao kept a xiezhi, letting his pet do his work (hmm). In ancient times, “xiezhi” represented judicial fairness, and legal officials’ hats were called “xiezhi caps.”