The Taiji Hall, where the Emperor Emeritus lay in state, along with the Liangyi Hall and Ganlu Hall to its north, collectively known as the “Three Great Halls of the Inner Palace,” were aligned along the central axis of the palace city, imperial city, and Chang’an’s outer city walls, symbolizing the celestial pole. These three grand halls, magnificent and imposing in their architecture, were hardly suitable for comfortable living.
Thus, the Taiji Hall served for grand court assemblies, while the Liangyi Hall hosted regular court sessions. The Ganlu Hall, which theoretically should have been the Emperor’s daily residence, was damp and drafty throughout—though true to its name, it did regularly collect sweet dew in the mornings—and was generally used only for temporary rest. The Emperor and Empress resided together in the Lizheng Hall, east of the Liangyi Hall. For meetings with trusted senior officials, they often used the Wanchun Hall, situated between the Liangyi and Lizheng Halls, saving everyone some walking.
When Li Yuangui straightened his mourning clothes outside the Wanchun Hall and ascended the steps with his head held high, he felt as if he were entering a battlefield without weapons.
The enemies he faced could be divided into three armies: the Court of Judicial Review combined with the Censorate, the Court of State Ceremonials, and… Imperial Advisor Wei Zheng.
The Court of Judicial Review and Censorate wanted to settle old scores regarding his legal violations, the Court of State Ceremonials opposed the policy of “sending a prince beyond the frontier for a marriage alliance,” and as for Imperial Advisor Wei… Wei probably just plain disliked him, believing that sending him as an envoy for the marriage would only invite disaster.
All three enemy forces waited inside the hall, all wearing hemp mourning clothes, their faces bearing identical expressions of grave solemnity. This was hardly surprising—these great ministers of the Zhenguan era, led by Prime Minister Wei, were all accustomed to the atmosphere of court debates where they freely offered advice with their tablets in hand. They barely bothered to feign smiles even before the Emperor, let alone today when they were facing only two young men in the hall—the Imperial Brother Prince of Wu, Yuangui, and the Crown Prince Chengqian, who was presiding over the court discussion.
A small seat was placed below the empty imperial throne for the Crown Prince. After Li Yuangui and the other officials exchanged formal greetings, they were granted seats according to protocol below the vermillion steps. Directly opposite Li Yuangui sat Wei Zheng, the Emperor’s most trusted minister, whose thin face with its goatee bore eyes that stared at him piercingly. Thinking of his complicated past involvement with Wei’s daughter, Li Yuangui felt both bitter and guilty, unconsciously averting his gaze, unable to meet Wei’s eyes.
Since his arrest, he had been completely cut off from outside news. Despite asking General Cheng Yaojin several times and trying to get information from servants about what had happened to Yang Xinzhi, Wei Shubin, and the Chai siblings, he had learned nothing. He could only console himself: given Chai Yaoli’s capabilities and the Emperor and Empress’s mercy, his friends’ crimes were lighter than his, so they should be better off than him…
The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review Sun Fuguo and the Minister of the Court of State Ceremonials Gao Biaoren sat below Wei Zheng according to their ranks, along with several vice ministers and officials from the Censorate and Ministry of Justice, arranged like a joint tribunal. The pressure was immense, yet Li Yuangui couldn’t fully focus on his opponents, his thoughts constantly drifting to the western chamber of the Taiji Hall—where Empress Zhangsun, along with various noble ladies, princesses, and royal consorts, was maintaining the mourning vigil, including his Seventeenth Sister.
Earlier, when negotiating with Li Chengqian, he had casually suggested letting Yang Xinzhi marry the Seventeenth Princess. It seemed a logical choice, as there weren’t many young men of suitable background, age, appearance, and character in his circle. Although Yang Xinzhi and the siblings had a nominal uncle-nephew relationship, he wasn’t Fifth Aunt’s biological son, and they had never addressed each other as relatives before. But Li Chengqian had dismissed this idea with one sentence:
“Yang Xinzhi is also implicated in the Daan Palace conspiracy case, and he was the Treasury Keeper of the Prince of Wu’s household, personally appointed by the late Emperor Emeritus and the current Emperor. It would be logical for him to accompany you to the Western Regions to atone for his crimes through meritorious service. With this journey of uncertain duration ahead, Fourteenth Uncle, are you sure you want Seventeenth Sister to be engaged and waiting for him?”
This… with an uncertain future and years of waiting ahead, there were too many variables, so perhaps it was better to drop the idea. He was anxious to find a suitable match for his sister and then thought of Chai Zhiwei. But Chai Zhiwei was his and his sister’s nephew, someone they had grown up playing with, and his younger brother Chai Lingwu was already engaged to Princess Baling. Having two brothers marry an aunt and niece pair, a nephew marrying his aunt—it was too awkward to even suggest.
That day, time had been short, and they hadn’t reached a final decision. Li Chengqian had only promised that if Li Yuangui could convince the ministers to agree to the marriage alliance, he would arrange for the siblings to meet and discuss it in person. The prerequisite, of course, was that Li Yuangui had to first win this verbal battle with the court officials.
Fortunately, he already knew his opponents’ general deployment and had time to consider his counter-strategy. As Sun Zi said: “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles.” This was his only source of confidence.
As the court discussion began and various departments presented their opinions, Li Yuangui listened half-heartedly, noting that they indeed didn’t differ much from what Li Chengqian had described earlier. Good—he could proceed according to his previously considered strategy, first striking at their weakest point—the Court of State Ceremonials’ argument that “a prince becoming a son-in-law would damage the empire’s dignity.”
This was also putting into practice the Emperor’s teachings—Li Yuangui thought silently. Years ago, when he and his brothers attended the Emperor on hunting expeditions, one night around a campfire roasting meat and chatting, his great Second Brother, pleased with the flattery, had instructed his brothers and sons: “Since my youth, I have commanded in all directions and know well the essentials of warfare. When entering battle, first observe the enemy formation to know their strengths and weaknesses. Always position our weak forces against their strong points, and our strong forces against their weak points. Our weak infantry forces maintain defense, and when the enemy charges at our weakness, they will pursue no more than a hundred paces. Our strong cavalry forces strike at their weakness, surely breaking through behind their lines, and then counter-attacking. No enemy army can avoid defeat—this is how victory is often achieved…”
Now, the weakest point opposite him was Minister Gao of the Court of State Ceremonials, while their strongest, Imperial Advisor Wei… well, better not think about that yet, take it one step at a time.
“The Gaochang envoys, far from Central Plains, struggle to express themselves clearly in Chinese, and the Court of State Ceremonials’ interpreters may not translate with perfect accuracy,” Li Yuangui calmly began after listening to Minister Gao’s impassioned speech about “national dignity”:
“Though unworthy, I recently visited the Gaochang envoys personally and spoke with them face to face, only then learning that the King of Gaochang has no intention of disrespecting our great dynasty, nor would he dare to. The envoys said their king greatly desired to establish marriage ties with the Great Tang. Although his Crown Prince’s wife was unavoidably married to the Turks, he wished his only daughter to become a Tang prince’s consort. Only because the king deeply loves his daughter does he make this unreasonable request, begging me to personally go to his small country to receive the bride and stay for several months, both to slightly comfort the parents’ sorrow at separation and to let his people glimpse our great dynasty’s bearing. He never dared to demand that our Tang prince become a live-in son-in-law…”
Although the Gaochang envoy was ethnically Chinese, he truly didn’t fully understand Central Plains customs and his previous disrespectful remarks had already earned him repeated threats and scolding from officials of the Ministry of Rites and the Court of State Ceremonials, considerably dampening his arrogance. After further instruction from Li Yuangui and others on proper discourse, even if summoned to court now to discuss the marriage before all the officials, he probably wouldn’t cause much trouble.
“Stay for several months?” Gao Biaoren frowned, “So you’re saying that after the Prince of Wu takes his bride, he will still return to our country to live, and won’t remain in Gaochang as a hostage? And the Gaochang princess is willing to be a proper wife and follow her husband to court? The envoys have changed their stance to say this now? Can the Prince of Wu guarantee this will happen?”
The Court of State Ceremonials didn’t care at all what kind of woman Li Yuangui married; they only cared about how this marriage arrangement would be interpreted by foreign barbarians and various tributary states. If the only daughter of the King of Gaochang entered Tang as a prince’s consort, that would count as an advantage for the Great Tang, and the Court of State Ceremonials would have no reason to oppose it. As for whether Gaochang would let the princess follow her husband back… well, with urgent matters at hand, better focus on the immediate situation.
“I have already settled all arrangements with the Gaochang envoys,” His Highness the Prince of Wu declared boldly, “How could either side arbitrarily go back on their word in a marriage alliance between two states? Moreover, success depends on human effort—does Minister Gao think I am the kind of weak husband who would meekly endure and depend on others? It’s normal human nature for the Gaochang royal couple to be reluctant to part with their only daughter. Even in our villages, some parents keep their married daughters for several years, unwilling to let them go to their husbands’ homes. How much more so when two countries are separated by three to four thousand li? In short, Minister Gao need not worry. After the marriage, I have my methods and certainly won’t remain long in Gaochang as a hostage. I will return early with my wife.”
As he spoke, his mouth grew increasingly bitter. To outsiders, it might seem as if he wanted to marry that Gaochang princess. But the one he wanted to marry was…