She silently held the package, standing upstairs until the crowd at the polo field across the street gradually dispersed. The Empress appeared tired and was helped by her maids into the pavilion to rest. The bamboo blinds on the pavilion’s south side were lowered, creating a dim, peaceful atmosphere. Besides the maids, the Empress only allowed Wei Shubin and Su Lingyu to attend her inside. Reclining on the couch, she smiled and said:
“Forgive my poor manners, Young Lady Wei. I’m unwell and truly exhausted from sitting—you mentioned you’ve identified the true culprit in the case of the Linfen County Princess at Ganye Temple. You’ve also brought the items you needed. Please proceed.”
Wei Shubin performed a respectful bow with humble words, then placed her package on the desk before the Empress’s couch. Another package was already there, wrapped in the green floral gauze scarf Wei Shubin had worn yesterday. She unwrapped both packages, revealing two golden wine vessels.
The two vessels appeared to be cast from the same mold, identical in size, with matching long spouts, slender necks, and large bodies. Both were decorated with gilt engravings of dragon-headed, horse-bodied mythical beasts amid cloud patterns. The only differences were that one was brilliantly polished and pristine, while the other showed traces of black soil and appeared older, with its lid missing.
Wei Shubin picked up one vessel and explained to the Empress how its double inner chambers and air vents worked. Both the Empress and her daughter-in-law expressed amazement, after which Su Lingyu asked, “Where did these two wine vessels come from?”
“This new vessel,” Wei Shubin pointed to the pristine one, “was retrieved from Prince Wu’s residence at Your Highness’s command. It was the murder weapon used by the former Tuyuhun Crown Prince to serve poisoned wine to His Majesty yesterday. This older vessel I brought was found in the Court of Justice’s archives—it was the murder weapon used by County Princess Wanxi to serve poisoned wine to His Majesty in the Eastern Palace poisoning case ten years ago.”
Two identical wine vessels, separated by ten years, were inexplicably used for the same purpose—to poison the man named Li Shimin.
The box of evidence from the Eastern Palace poisoning case had remained untouched in Zixu Temple since Li Yuangui and Chai Yuluo had managed to retrieve it. When Wei Shubin saw the Prince’s poisoned wine vessel fall and roll to her feet during the funeral ceremony, she initially thought Li Yuangui had taken out the evidence vessel to reuse it. Later, suspecting otherwise, she quickly picked it up and wrapped it, refusing to hand it over to other officials.
Returning to Zixu Temple from the Honglu Temple guesthouse that evening, she had servants locate the evidence box. Opening it, she found the old dragon-horse double-chambered vessel still inside. She lay awake all night pondering the mystery, finally concluding. At dawn, she wrapped the old vessel and brought it to report to Empress Zhangsun.
The strange case of Linfen County Princess Li Wanxi’s suicide on her wedding night was finally ready to be resolved, especially given its connection to Li Yuangui’s fifty thousand bolt silk debt.
According to Li Yuangui’s agreement with the Emperor, finding—or successfully fabricating—the Tuyuhun prince would earn thirty thousand bolts. Solving the Linfen County Princess case would add another twenty thousand. Claiming Li Yuangui had “successfully handled” the Tuyuhun prince matter was somewhat forced, and it was uncertain whether the Emperor would accept it. But if the Linfen County Princess case could be resolved to the satisfaction of the Emperor and Empress, it might help settle the entire debt.
“Two assassination attempts ten years apart using identical implements—this cannot be a coincidence,” Empress Zhangsun spoke slowly. “Based on your investigation, with these two golden vessels as evidence, who is the murderer of the young princess?”
“Your Highness’s insight is keen. This new vessel was seen by hundreds yesterday at the funeral ceremony, used by the former Tuyuhun Crown Prince. As for this old vessel, when we first reopened the evidence box for re-examination, someone immediately pointed out that its dragon-horse pattern was commonly used by the Tuyuhun royal family. That person was Yang Xinzhi—Murong Nuohebo—who recognized it from the numerous gold treasures his grandfather Yang Xiong had brought back from Tuyuhun.” Wei Shubin emphasized, “Perhaps this gilt dragon-horse double-chambered vessel was once among those treasures?”
She pointed to the old vessel, and both the Empress and Crown Princess, being intelligent women, understood her implication. The Empress sighed, “You mean that over a decade ago, someone took this vessel from the Yang family and later brought it to the Eastern Palace to arrange the poisoning of Prince Qin?”
“Yes.” Wei Shubin took another breath, “I’ve also understood something else. Though the County Princess was murdered, she left behind a suicide note. I’ve brought the original.”
She took out the letter found under Li Wanxi’s pillow and handed it to the Empress and Crown Princess for their examination, explaining: “The handwriting, as verified by Ouyang Shuigeng, is indeed the Princess’s own, but the emotional tone doesn’t suggest suicidal intent—rather, it seems more like romantic yearning. After studying this note again last night, I dare conclude that this isn’t a suicide note, but… a letter left before a planned elopement.”
She had memorized the letter’s contents: “I, Li Wanxi, lowly concubine and granddaughter of the Great Tang’s Former Emperor, bow twice and say: With my meager talents and weak fate, I brought misfortune to my late father. After nine years of heartache, in one night I’ve reached enlightenment. Life is not our own to control. Though I was honored to join the imperial family and receive a royal education as a princess, my beauty is lesser than common reeds, and my constitution is more fragile than dew on chives. Following the rules of the inner palace, I painfully left my parents’ nurturing care. Living in the palace, I am ashamed to hear of winter-withered pine and cypress. The water of Yanping has dried up, the dragon sword has left its deep pool; the Qin jade tower has collapsed, and the phoenix flute has departed forever. I humbly pray for my Imperial Grandfather’s ten thousand years, my various mothers’ thousand autumns, and for this prosperous peaceful era where people live in contentment. I, Li, bow twice.”
Among these lines, only phrases like “constitution more fragile than dew,” “painfully left my parents,” and “ashamed to hear of winter-withered pine and cypress” could be interpreted as suicidal intentions, and even these were ambiguous—they could just as easily mean “I, an inadequate young woman, am leaving my family and my previous life.” Moreover, the references to “Yanping’s dried water, dragon sword leaving its pool” and “Qin jade tower collapsed, phoenix flute departed” were both allusions to romantic love. When Li Wanxi wrote these lines, she was likely dreaming of a romantic future of eloping and living in seclusion with her beloved.
“While this interpretation makes sense,” the Empress asked, “how could she have fallen in love and planned to elope when she had been confined in the forbidden temple since age nine, never stepping outside or seeing any men?”
“This is precisely what the true killer sought to exploit, but cleverness backfired, revealing her malicious intent.” Wei Shubin took out another paper from the package and presented it to the Empress. It still bore Li Wanxi’s childish handwriting:
“Lofty palace towers soar high, vast halls feel cold and lonely. A gentle breeze stirs the inner chambers, setting sun illuminates the courtyard steps. Hesitating beneath clouded eaves, singing while leaning on ornate pillars…”
“This is an ancient poem the young princess copied, but it vividly depicts the moment her heart first stirred with love. As she wandered the palace steps, leaning against the railings to watch the sunset, she saw a young guard standing watch with his weapon on the corner watchtower, his figure magnificent…” Wei Shubin bit her lip, “Before the Ganye Temple fire, I visited there and could indeed see the watchtower guards’ faces clearly from the courtyard corner. Temple residents also mentioned seeing the Crown Prince climb the corner tower and being recognized by the confined women. I once thought… forgive me, Your Highness… but later learned this wasn’t true. The man the Linfen County Princess loved must have been someone else.”
“Who?”
“I privately deduce… it was the true Tuyuhun prince, then a garrison guard, Yang Xinzhi.”
The Empress leaned back on her couch, lost in silent thought. Wei Shubin explained:
“Yang Xinzhi, when first appointed to the garrison, stood guard duty at Ganye Temple—he mentioned this himself before. His striking appearance could easily captivate a young girl, and being from the Yang family’s royal observation branch, he had female relatives in the temple. If the princess privately admired him and discussed this with a close female confidante, that woman could easily discover Yang Xinzhi’s identity. Later, when the Great Peace Palace arranged for Prince Wu to escort the princess to her wedding, Yang Xinzhi accompanied Master Fourteen and entered Ganye Temple, possibly catching a glimpse of her. That woman could have twisted words to convince the princess that Yang also loved her and would elope with her. Thus, with that woman dictating and the princess writing, this letter was composed as an explanation for after her departure.”
“But that woman’s true intention was to murder the princess and use the letter to create the appearance of suicide.” The Empress frowned, paused, then asked: “Why?”
This questioned the motive. Wei Shubin lowered her gaze to the two golden vessels on the desk:
“That woman had an illicit affair, which the princess likely knew about from their close relationship. If this wasn’t enough to drive her to action, perhaps something else happened that made her realize the princess also knew about her crime from ten years ago—using a double-chambered vessel from her family to conspire with her late husband to poison our current Emperor. This posed too great a threat to her future… After the princess married into the Pingyang Princess’s mansion, she would be constantly around people like Prince Consort Chai and Master Shangzhen. If she let something slip, the consequences would be unbearable, so…”
The Empress remained silent. Crown Princess Su Lingyu asked, “Shubin, is this woman you speak of Yang, the Princess Consort of Hailing, childhood name Buyao?”
“Yes,” Wei Shubin confirmed. Su Lingyu let out a long breath, her face showing a hint of joy as she turned to smile at her mother-in-law.
But Empress Zhangsun didn’t smile. She quietly stared at the two golden vessels and two letters on the desk, remaining silent for a long while before shaking her head and softly saying: “No, that’s not right.”
Note: The chapter title “The Screen Painting Beauty from ‘Biographies of Exemplary Women'” refers to screens as essential furniture in medieval times, including the Tang Dynasty. Popular screen decorations included paintings of court ladies and historical figures. Examples of historical figure paintings can be seen on the well-preserved wooden screen from Sima Jinlong’s tomb of the Northern Wei Dynasty. Figure 2 shows the six-panel screen painting of court ladies from the Wei family tomb mural in Nanliwang Village, Xi’an, Shaanxi, from the late Kaiyuan period of Tang. These murals share identical composition and figures with the murals in Empress Wu Hui’s Jingling tomb from Kaiyuan 25 (737) and the “Bird-Feather Standing Ladies Screen” preserved in Japan’s Shōsōin from Tenpyō-shōhō 4 (752), demonstrating the popular template of the High Tang period.