That night, sleep eluded everyone in the palace, including Ming Tan.
Early the next morning, as dawn broke, Ming Tan quietly left the palace with Jiang Xu, slipping out as the gates opened. With chaos reigning inside, she was relieved to extricate herself from the turmoil and had no desire to get involved again.
A few days later, news spread from the palace: Concubine Jia had passed away.
The Emperor decreed that Concubine Jia, having borne an imperial heir, would be honored with a grand burial befitting a consort.
She had given birth to a young prince and was posthumously promoted to the rank of concubine, with a burial ceremony worthy of a consort. The Du family, naturally satisfied, even attempted to leverage this honor to secure a position in the Ministry of Rites for her half-brother. While the Emperor disapproved of this behavior, he still granted the request as compensation to the Du family.
As Jiang Xu recounted these events, Ming Tan felt a deep sense of unease.
She reflected bitterly that no matter how noble one’s birth, entering the palace meant becoming a mere pawn for exchanging benefits. Once those benefits were secured, whether one lived or died seemed of little consequence to their family.
Regarding the young prince born to Concubine Jia, the Emperor intended to place him under Consort Lan’s care.
This was a positive development. Consort Lan, known for her cool and aloof nature, rarely socialized. Raising a young prince would help alleviate some of her loneliness in the deep recesses of the palace. Moreover, with a high-ranking mother figure, the young prince’s life in the palace would be considerably better.
As for Consort Su, the instigator of all these events, her fate was predictably grim. First confined to Qiyun Palace, her situation worsened when one of her maids voluntarily approached the Empress’s palace, revealing the malicious acts Consort Su had committed against other consorts and their children over the years.
Despite Consort Su’s public image of gentleness and virtue, avoiding conflicts, it turned out that she had been behind most of the major and minor incidents in the palace for years.
As the Empress investigated and reported each incident, Emperor Chengkang’s expression grew increasingly dark. He had never imagined that the seemingly kind woman who shared his bed could be so vicious!
Initially, out of consideration for their past relationship, he had only planned to demote her to Beauty and confine her to the Cold Palace. But now, even that seemed too lenient.
“This poisonous woman deserves a thousand deaths!” Emperor Chengkang rose, slamming his hand on the table. “Come! Issue an imperial edict: Consort Su is guilty of harming other consorts, plotting against imperial heirs, and wreaking havoc in the rear palace. She has committed numerous evil deeds! Effective immediately, strip her of all titles and demote her to commoner status. Grant her a white silk cord to atone for her crimes!”
Consort Su seemed to have anticipated this outcome. When the white silk cord was presented, she calmly dismissed everyone from her presence.
Moments later, the sound of a chair falling echoed from the room. When the eunuchs re-entered, they found her lifeless, her eyes closed.
With Consort Su’s death by imperial decree, her father and brothers, who had previously escaped punishment due to her pregnancy, could no longer avoid responsibility. The list of those who had accepted bribes was thoroughly investigated, with her family receiving the harshest punishment. They were stripped of their positions, their property confiscated, and the entire family was exiled to the border regions, forbidden from returning to the capital for three generations.
After witnessing the Emperor’s wrath, the palace finally settled into a period of calm. The consorts and concubines adhered strictly to protocol, and even attempts to gain the Emperor’s favor became rare.
As the palace quieted, so did the world beyond its walls. Ming Tan was delighted to avoid entering the palace for days, spending her free time embroidering trousseau items with Zhou Jingwan.
After the first month of the lunar year, Zhou Jingwan and Lu Ting’s wedding preparations were set to begin in earnest.
Traditionally, unmarried couples shouldn’t meet before their wedding, but Lu Ting was never one for conventions. He visited the Zhou residence three times during the New Year celebrations.
Unable to avoid him entirely, Zhou Jingwan arranged a “chance” encounter at her home, hoping to prevent him from making a fourth or fifth visit, which would surely become the talk of the town.
Hearing Zhou Jingwan’s complaints, Bai Minmin, who was sorting silk threads nearby, teased, “Don’t act coy now. Everyone knows that General Lu bought out every bookshop and antique store in the capital to win over the talented Miss Zhou. He even acquired their most prized possessions!”
Ming Tan chimed in with her playful remark: “It wasn’t just the capital’s bookshops. Even the palace library was raided by General Lu. During my last visit to the palace, the Emperor was telling my husband… ahem!” She cleared her throat and imitated Emperor Chengkang’s voice: “This Lu Ting is truly shameless. I allowed him to choose freely from the library, and he took full advantage. Not content with his selections, he even asked the eunuchs which items were the rarest!”
“Is that true?” Zhou Jingwan asked, her face flushing.
“Absolutely,” Ming Tan confirmed.
“Oh my, I can’t stop laughing. How can General Lu be so amusing?” Bai Minmin held her stomach, overcome with laughter.
Ming Tan covered her mouth, joining in the laughter.
In truth, her imitation wasn’t an exaggeration, though she had omitted the Emperor’s most crucial comment. After expressing his frustration, Emperor Chengkang turned to Jiang Xu with a suspicious look: “He couldn’t have learned this from you, could he?”
Ming Tan, who had overheard this, was so embarrassed she wished she could disappear into the ground.
Zhou Jingwan, already easily flustered, was now completely red-faced from their teasing, equally mortified.
Feeling sheepish, she suddenly thought of something and gently changed the subject, turning her attention to Bai Minmin: “You’re one to talk. You can’t even embroider a handkerchief properly. What will the Empress think of you?”
“I’m not marrying the Empress,” Bai Minmin retorted shamelessly. “Besides, Her Majesty says she likes my lively and cheerful nature. Isn’t that good enough? And why should I bother embroidering handkerchiefs for Zhang Huaiyu anyway?”
Zhou Jingwan had been watching her closely and suddenly smiled, her tone turning to tease: “Oh? Wasn’t it you who kept saying that Young Master Zhang couldn’t compare to Second Young Master Shu in looks and character? That you didn’t want to marry Young Master Zhang? Yet here you are, considering whether the Empress likes you and if you should embroider handkerchiefs for Young Master Zhang. It seems someone’s words don’t match her heart!”
Bai Minmin paused for a moment, realizing she had been tricked into revealing her true feelings.
She put down the silk threads and began tickling Zhou Jingwan’s delicate neck. “You little minx! You’re not even married yet, and you’re already so cunning with words. Lu Ting must be rubbing off on you!”
Zhou Jingwan, ticklish but aware that Bai Minmin was equally so, quickly retaliated.
Ming Tan watched their playful scuffle with amusement, occasionally siding with one, then the other. Engrossed in stirring up trouble, she didn’t notice when the two suddenly turned on her, bringing up embarrassing incidents from before her wedding. They ganged up to tickle her, and Ming Tan, having brought this upon herself, could only beg for mercy amidst peals of laughter.
—
As the Lantern Festival passed, the first month of the lunar year came to an end.
Although the palace incident had been resolved, the bloodshed during the Lantern Festival was considered an ill omen.
Just after the New Year, the Chief Astrologer of the Imperial Observatory urgently reported to Emperor Chengkang about recent celestial observations. He spoke of frequent unusual activities in the southern constellations, first with a guest star entering the Eastern Well, followed by a meteor shower falling towards the south.
The Chief Astrologer bowed deeply and cautioned, “Your Majesty, the twenty-eight constellations represent the sovereign, while the other stars symbolize the common people. The falling of numerous stars may indicate that the people will lose their place.”
The South.
Emperor Chengkang furrowed his brow in contemplation.
Before he could reach any conclusion, news arrived from Yuzhou. It was reported that the wandering Daoist, Yinchuan, had been seen in the western part of Yu. During his conversations with locals, he had issued a prophecy: “The Sea Dragon King emerges, the shaman serves the divine with jade, calamity follows.”
Like Master Yunyan, Yinchuan was a man of great ability from Emperor Gaozong’s era. Gaozong had praised him as one “whose wisdom surpasses others, capable of foreseeing events.”
Yinchuan had been wandering the world, living in seclusion for many years. He hadn’t issued any prophecies since Emperor Gaozong’s passing. Now, faced with this new prophecy, even Emperor Chengkang, who didn’t believe in the supernatural, couldn’t help but take it seriously.
That night, Emperor Chengkang urgently summoned Jiang Xu to the palace.
Jiang Xu explained, “The Daoist Yinchuan is not some charlatan playing with mysticism. During Emperor Gaozong’s time, he accurately predicted the Yellow River flood, the locust plague in Chong County, and the Southern barbarians’ invasion.”
Emperor Chengkang nodded gravely, “That’s precisely why I called for you.”
Jiang Xu approached the imperial desk, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Emperor Chengkang. He picked up a brush and wrote the complex character “灵” (Ling) on paper. Both men fell silent, lost in thought.
“The shaman serves the divine with jade” referred to Ling (灵).
Earlier, when Emperor Chengkang heard the Imperial Observatory mention the South, he had wondered if something might happen in Tonggang, which was about to open its port. Now, combining this with Yinchuan’s prophecy, he realized that the trouble might be in Lingzhou.
“What do you make of ‘The Sea Dragon King emerges’?” Emperor Chengkang asked.
Jiang Xu replied calmly, “The emergence of the Sea Dragon King could mean one of three things: Lingzhou rebelling, a pirate uprising, or a flood.”
Given the current situation, unless the Su family had gone mad and grown tired of their comfortable life, rebellion seemed unlikely.
A pirate uprising… There had been one during Emperor Gaozong’s reign, but by the previous dynasty, Lingzhou port had become incredibly prosperous, and maritime trade had matured. Pirate attacks were now rare, and even when they occurred, they were quickly suppressed and never amounted to much.
So if it was a flood—
Emperor Chengkang broke the silence, “I’d rather it be the Su family rebelling or a pirate invasion.”
A flood would be devastating, spanning thousands of miles. Especially in a crucial area like Lingzhou, the death toll could reach millions. People would be displaced, various disasters would follow, and chaos would inevitably ensue.
“What does the Shoukang Palace say?” Jiang Xu inquired.
Emperor Chengkang paused before answering, “I sent the Chief Astrologer to Shoukang Palace and had Yinchuan’s prophecy delivered there as well. Their response was just four words: baseless talk.”
Lingzhou had no history of flooding, so if someone were to suggest the possibility now, Empress Dowager Su would certainly not believe it. Even with Yinchuan’s prophecy, she would likely suspect that Emperor Chengkang had summoned this man from seclusion, using the prophecy as a pretext to force her to relinquish control of Lingzhou port.
Even if she did believe it, Empress Dowager Su wouldn’t take any action.
If a flood were imminent, Lingzhou would have to close its port. Given the current daily volume of maritime trade in Lingzhou, closing for even one day would result in immeasurable losses. Moreover, evacuating the people of Lingzhou… Lingzhou was no small place. Where would they start evacuating such a vast population, and to where? What would become of the Su family?
There were too many factors at play, with far-reaching consequences. She could only choose not to believe and hope that this was just Emperor Chengkang’s ploy to reclaim Lingzhou.
While this outcome was predictable, Jiang Xu still fell silent for a moment upon hearing it.