“I had arranged everything quite well, and almost succeeded.” The Daoist priestess’s voice was surprisingly full of regret as she looked up at Wei Shubin and Li Yuanxu. “Who would have thought you two would emerge unexpectedly and throw everything into chaos… I was prepared for Fourteenth Uncle to get involved in the investigation, given how the First Lady’s case resembled Zhang Beauty’s death. As for you, Shubin… I originally thought I could use you as a shield, to divert others’ attention, but who knew… ah.”
“Shubin’s escape from marriage led her to Ganye Temple, dragging Wei Xuancheng into the case,” Li Yuanxu suddenly said. “You found that troublesome, so you volunteered to assist in the investigation, aiming to lead our thoughts elsewhere.
Then came the matter of my Seventeenth Sister, my imperial commission to search for the Tuyuhun prince’s grandson and even the decade-old Eastern Palace poisoning case was dredged up, making everything increasingly complicated. For a while, you tried to guide us to believe Imperial Consort Yang was the real culprit, but after discovering she was pregnant and protected, you grew fearful and tried to withdraw, clearly less eager than at the start… I thought…”
He couldn’t continue, tears welling up in his eyes again. Chai Yinglu also sighed:
“Regarding Seventeenth Aunt’s matter, my conscience is clear. I never harbored ill intentions toward any of you.”
“Elder Sister Ying’s kindness to me was as vast as mountains. She saved me countless times,” Wei Shubin said sorrowfully. “The most dangerous time, on the watchtower of Da’an Palace, I thought I was surely dead if it weren’t for—”
She suddenly stopped speaking as a clear image from that night flooded her mind, filling her with horror:
“Consort Yin… wasn’t thrown from the watchtower by Tuyuhun assassins, that was your doing too!”
Consort Yin’s robes and sashes had traced an arc through the night sky, disappearing beyond the railing on the other side of the tower, leaving only a long, piercing scream that seemed endless—this was what she had witnessed on the tower that night, though she hadn’t seen who had thrown Consort Yin. At the time, Chai Yinglu had shouted “What are you doing?” while fighting with the black-clad man who had just climbed to the tower top, so she naturally assumed the man had thrown Consort Yin first before trying to harm Chai Yinglu.
But later she learned that this black-clad assassin hadn’t even drawn his waist dagger, only carrying a crossbow up the tower. If he had truly intended to kill the female hostages, the easiest method would have been to shoot them, not free up one hand to throw them from the tower… Chai Yinglu had explained it as “he underestimated our female fighting ability,” but wasn’t that too much of an underestimation?
The Daoist priestess smiled at Wei Shubin:
“You finally understand… I underestimated you too, always thinking you were like your father—more loyal than clever. Shubin, you just think a bit slower, but you’re not stupid at all.”
That night, sitting at the top of the stairs on Cuiyun Peak’s watchtower, she had intermittently heard the conversation between Consort Yin and Li Yuanxu below. When Consort Yin claimed to know “who killed the First Lady,” she was terrified. Yin might have just said it to provoke Li Yuanxu, but Chai Yinglu knew that during the Wude years, Consort Yin had been intimately involved with Fourth Uncle Yuanji. Li Yuanji was fond of wine and women and careless in his conduct—he might have let something slip to Consort Yin, allowing that cunning woman to deduce the truth.
That night in the Eastern Palace, after successfully poisoning Second Uncle Shimin, Chai Yinglu followed the well-rehearsed plan, secretly passing the double-hearted vessel hidden in her sleeve to Fourth Uncle Yuanji before slipping out of the palace with Prince Qi’s attendants. She didn’t know then that Li Yuanji had thrown the golden vessel into the well in Xiande Hall’s courtyard during the chaos, framing his elder brother Crown Prince Jiancheng. Later when uncle and niece met again, Chai Yinglu asked about the vessel’s whereabouts, and Li Yuanji only said “I melted it in the furnace,” repeatedly assuring her he had never revealed this to anyone, “Not even your aunt”—now it seemed this too was a lie, as Yang Buyao at least knew the exact location of the double-hearted golden vessel.
But on the Da’an Palace watchtower, Chai Yinglu didn’t yet know her Fourth Aunt was involved and believed Consort Yin was the last person who might know of her crimes, so she resolved to kill her. Taking advantage of the moment when Wei Shubin had turned to look below, the black-clad assassin had just climbed up and hadn’t assessed the situation, and Consort Yin was bound and helpless, she first grabbed Consort Yin and threw her from the tower, while simultaneously shouting and throwing herself at the assassin to fight him, catching him off guard and stabbing him with her defensive dagger—otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so easy for a weak woman to kill a strong man.
“Such quick wit, such courage.” This praise came from Empress Zhangsun, though her tone held no joy or sarcasm, only sorrow, and regret in her heavy sigh.
Chai Yinglu stared steadily at her Second Aunt, her face somewhat calmer. She had two lives on her hands—Li Wanxi and Consort Yin—plus the grave crime of attempting to poison her Second Uncle ten years ago, her affair with the Crown Prince, and her intentional implication of the Empress and Crown Prince. By any measure, her sins were grievous and numerous.
Yet none of the men and women in the chamber showed hatred or disgust toward her. Even Crown Princess Su Lingyu, who was only her “romantic rival,” looked at her with pity and couldn’t help turning to her mother-in-law to plead:
“The True Master was always kind to Fourteenth Uncle’s siblings and Shubin and Young Lord Yang. She isn’t cruel-hearted or intentionally brutal to the weak. If not for the Eastern Palace poisoning incident, if County Princess Linfen had safely married into Consort Chai’s household, the True Master would surely have cared for and cherished her… It was because of the grave mistake she made in her naive youth ten years ago that forced her to take wrong turns, unable to turn back. The Supreme Emperor’s body is barely cold and still en route, and both her parents rendered great service to the state. If the Empress could show mercy…”
As Su Lingyu spoke, she slid from the couch to her knees to beg. Empress Zhangsun looked at her daughter-in-law and sighed:
“According to you, how should we handle such a capital offense?”
“The national code includes the ‘Eight Considerations,’ if Your Majesty and the Empress could spare her from death, exile her three thousand li away, or have her take the tonsure and serve at the Xian Mausoleum to keep vigil for the Supreme Emperor, these would all… be ways to uphold the law while showing mercy…”
The Crown Princess’s voice grew increasingly small and uncertain as if she realized the consequences of such arrangements even as she spoke. The Empress looked at her, then glanced at her eldest son, and smiled faintly:
“You are kind-hearted indeed, and your husband should truly be grateful for your consideration.”
Even Wei Shubin understood that keeping Chai Yinglu alive would mean Su Lingyu was preserving a future threat to herself. Empress Zhangsun’s illness was growing increasingly severe, and no one knew how much longer she could hold on. After her death, if the Emperor remained unconcerned about his son’s private affairs, and if Li Chengqian still couldn’t sever his attachment to his cousin, then no matter where Chai Yinglu was exiled or what she became, he would find ways to bring her back to rekindle their romance.
“Do you know why, at the beginning of Zhenguan, I refused to follow His Majesty’s wish to have Chengqian betrothed to Ying’er?” the Empress asked. “Most importantly, of course, was her fate… Even if I don’t believe in spirits, after three consecutive instances, how could I not have some reservations? Secondly, their ages were unsuitable. Chengqian was still an innocent child, while Ying’er had grown into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. I thought it would be most appropriate for her to find a good husband within a year or two, marry, have children, manage a household, and live a stable, happy life. That way, I could also face Third Sister with a clear conscience.”
The Empress’s words maintained their usual elegance and propriety, but Wei Shubin had come to understand her somewhat and could discern her unspoken meaning: at sixteen, Chai Yinglu had matured into an alluring woman, and if married to a nine-year-old husband, she might not endure the loneliness of an empty chamber. Given her outgoing, unrestrained personality and disregard for propriety, the Empress surely didn’t want to be forced to embrace a grandson not of her blood in a couple of years, with no way to voice her grievance.
This judgment… one could say, didn’t wrong Chai Yinglu.