Zichen Palace.
Li Gu could not suppress a smile and asked: “And then what happened?”
The moment Fuchun had been well enough to get out of bed, he had borne his pain and immediately returned to his post. After this incident, however, he had become far more circumspect. He bowed and said: “The case was quite straightforward. Your Highness holds a deed of absolute servitude. In accordance with the law, the sentence handed down was for ‘abducting and selling a person into marriage’ — three years of imprisonment.”
He continued: “The news has now spread throughout the neighborhoods. Everyone is saying the Princess is loyal and true — that she brought back everyone she had taken with her, and what a difficult thing that was.”
“Indeed,” said Li Gu. “It was not easy for her.”
Yet the very next morning at court, a censor caught wind of it and submitted a memorial accusing Princess Yongning of being overbearing — of galloping through the streets and loosing arrows to injure people in public.
Li Gu said: “Where is the Capital Magistrate?”
The Capital Magistrate stepped forward: “This official is present.”
Li Gu said: “You were present at the scene. What were the circumstances?”
The Capital Magistrate replied: “Princess Yongning accidentally injured someone, and immediately had a physician administer treatment. She also provided the victim with generous compensation. The victim sustained only an external wound — there was no threat to their life — and they accepted the compensation without any further objection. This official witnessed it firsthand and can attest to it.”
Li Weifeng, standing somewhere in the ranks, covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. The court official responsible for maintaining proper decorum shot him a fierce glare, completely at a loss as to what to do with this troublemaker.
Li Gu said: “I see.”
Since censors were permitted to submit accusations without evidence to begin with, Li Gu did no more than offer a mild rebuke before ordering the censor back to his place.
When Li Gu looked into the matter afterward, it turned out the censor was a minor underling in Zhang Gong’s faction. Further investigation revealed that Zhang Gong himself had known nothing about it — he would have had to be out of his mind to pick a fight with a princess over something like this. So who had put the censor up to it?
Zhang Fen.
Li Gu found this thoroughly baffling, and could only tell Li Weifeng about it.
Li Weifeng had barely finished laughing at Xie Yuzhang when his own family turned around and made a fool of him. Irritated, he said: “I can’t do anything with her myself, but surely I can have her grandfather handle her.”
He promptly hauled Zhang Fen back to her family home to “pay a visit.” Her family “kept” Zhang Fen for several days before sending her back. After that, Zhang Fen was considerably better behaved.
What Xie Yuzhang had not anticipated, however, was that the whole affair had produced another side effect entirely: people began coming to her with land to place under her name.
Neither in this life nor the previous one had she ever opened a princess’s residence before, and she had never encountered this sort of thing. She asked Yuan Yu: “What does this mean?”
Yuan Yu said: “Once the land is registered under Your Highness’s name, it becomes exempt from taxation. The savings would then be split, with half going to Your Highness. Both parties come out ahead.”
Xie Yuzhang thought it over and said: “I understand now.”
On the twentieth day of the fourth month, she entered the palace to see Li Gu and told him: “I declined all of them. They and I both benefit — so who loses? Is it not Your Majesty who loses? They are trying to undermine Your Majesty’s foundations.”
She had always been sharp and perceptive, and Li Gu had not expected her to have such an unexpectedly naive and ignorant side to her as well. He could not help but laugh.
Xie Yuzhang did not understand: “What is Your Majesty laughing at? Did I do something wrong?”
Li Gu said: “Of course you did the right thing. Only, matters like this have never been possible to stamp out entirely. When we were in Hexi, our senior official investigated it very rigorously — which is why our relationship with those powerful clans and great families has always been rather tense. But if one does not take that approach, the taxes all get swallowed up by them, and we would have no means to sustain the Flying Tiger Army.”
Such practices had always been a common feature of life among the people. Li Gu had risen from humble origins and understood it thoroughly. Xie Yuzhang, on the other hand, had been raised in the sheltered seclusion of the palace. It was the first time she had learned that such schemes existed — that people dared to chip away at the foundations of both the court and the emperor — and her astonishment was entirely genuine. This was what made Li Gu laugh.
She had experience with maintaining troops, and she nodded: “That is true. Cavalry is the most expensive of all. In Mobei, it was only because my dowry was substantial that I managed to sustain those five hundred men. I only ever resented being a woman, with absolutely no knowledge of military training. That many people, and only just enough to protect myself. Whenever I looked at all the soldiers that Tujitang and the others commanded, I was so envious I could have drooled.”
Li Gu asked: “You enjoy maintaining troops so much?”
“I do,” said Xie Yuzhang. “If there is anything in Mobei worth remembering fondly, it is only that one thing. I held five hundred soldiers under my command — not many, but it gave me peace of mind. Wherever I went, I had guards around me, and that made me feel safe.”
When she spoke of this, a light naturally came into her face.
Li Gu gazed at her steadily, then suddenly asked: “Yuzhang — do you feel safe in Yunjing? Is there anything you still fear?”
Xie Yuzhang: “Hmm…”
Li Gu frowned: “Yuzhang?”
Xie Yuzhang said: “Does Your Majesty want to hear a straightforward answer?”
Li Gu laughed despite his irritation.
Xie Yuzhang said: “Then I will say it. In Yunjing, what I fear most — is Your Majesty.”
Li Gu went still.
Xie Yuzhang then added: “And what I fear least — is also Your Majesty.”
Li Gu was silent for a long while, then said: “You are speaking in riddles again.”
Xie Yuzhang smiled: “Your Majesty already knows me well enough. What I mean to say need not be spoken aloud — Your Majesty understands.”
Her smile was sly and uninhibited. A perfect example of someone shamelessly basking in the favor they had earned.
Li Gu was completely at a loss.
Having fulfilled her obligatory visit to Li Gu, Xie Yuzhang rose and said: “I should go pay my respects to the Noble Consort. She has finally ‘recovered.'”
“Go,” said Li Gu. “You have a way with words — speak with her properly, and help her see things clearly.”
Xie Yuzhang was speechless: “Your Majesty thinks very highly of me.”
The corner of Li Gu’s mouth curved upward.
When she arrived at Li Zhenzhen’s quarters, as Li Zhenzhen had only announced her “recovery” a few days prior, several court ladies were already seated there, having come to pay their respects to the Noble Consort.
“Yongning, come sit here,” Li Zhenzhen called out warmly.
Xie Yuzhang went over, and Li Zhenzhen pulled her down to sit beside her. The chair was long and wide — easily enough for three people. But the warmth of this gesture set the court ladies quietly speculating.
Li Zhenzhen asked: “Why did someone still submit a memorial against you the other day?”
Xie Yuzhang said: “I was simply disciplining a family that had no decency.” She relayed the matter to everyone present.
The court ladies exclaimed: “To think there could be such heartless parents.”
Xie Yuzhang said: “They were not the only ones — at the time, four families were just like that, refusing to redeem their daughters. I redeemed all of them, and they are all mine now. Only this particular pair were exceptionally shameless, daring to abduct one of my people and sell her again. Fortunately, the Capital Magistrate had a keen eye and ruled decisively. For abducting and selling a person into marriage, the sentence was three years of imprisonment.”
Li Zhenzhen said: “They deserved a far heavier sentence.” Then she added: “And that censor was reckless, submitting an accusation without even finding out the facts.”
Xie Yuzhang said: “Censors have always been that way — it is the nature of their duty. But my conduct is beyond reproach, so I have nothing to fear.”
Everyone agreed.
Having made her visit to Li Zhenzhen, Xie Yuzhang also stopped by the Yuzhao Palace and the Jinglan Palace to pay her respects to the two consorts.
Cui Ying was suffering from severe nausea. Her palace maid said: “It is just like it was with the First Prince — this one must also be a prince.”
Cui Ying said: “Stop saying nonsense.”
Xie Yuzhang smiled: “What nonsense? That is a silver tongue — it deserves a reward.” And so she reached into her sleeve and pulled out a gift pouch for the maid.
The maid thanked her and accepted it.
Xie Yuzhang said: “Let us borrow that silver tongue of yours — Your Ladyship is sure to bear another son.”
After she left, Cui Ying remarked admiringly: “She truly knows how to speak.”
The palace maid agreed: “Indeed she does. There is not a soul in the palace who does not like her. I have heard that even the Noble Consort and the Worthy Consort are close to her.”
Cui Ying smiled faintly.
When Xie Yuzhang went to Jinglan Palace, Deng Wan said: “I am at leisure now.”
The moment Li Zhenzhen had “recovered,” she had promptly taken back all authority over the inner palace. Xie Yuzhang covered a smile behind her sleeve.
Deng Wan sighed: “I envy you, outside the palace walls — you can go wherever you please.”
Xie Yuzhang said: “And how many people envy you — a husband, sons, a high station.”
Deng Wan said: “Whether inside the walls or out — everyone thinks the other side has it better.”
As the two were talking, a palace maid came rushing in to report: “The Second Prince has a fever.”
Deng Wan went pale with alarm.
Xie Yuzhang immediately said: “Go, go quickly — don’t mind me, I am practically family here.”
Deng Wan apologized hastily and hurried off.
A palace maid saw Xie Yuzhang out. As she left, Xie Yuzhang glanced back at the Jinglan Palace, a vague unease stirring in her heart.
As though in answer to the mood, the sky stayed overcast for the next several days.
On the twenty-sixth day of the fourth month, when the news came that the Second Prince had died in infancy, the rain had already begun to fall. Xie Yuzhang had at that moment invited Lin Fei and several of her female cousins from the Yang Family to admire the lotus flowers in the rain at the Princess’s residence.
All of them, save Lin Fei, were already married — and several had become mothers.
Weiwei had only completed her lying-in period in the third month. As a new mother, how could she bear news like this? She was overcome with grief and shed tears on the spot.
Lin Fei glanced toward Xie Yuzhang, only to see her gaze resting on the teacup on the small table beside her.
But what could she do? She was no deity — she could not change everything they might have hoped to change.
The death of a young child was such a common thing. It was only after a child passed the age of five that they were truly considered to have taken hold.
Although he was a prince, dying before coming of age, the hundred officials and common people were not required to observe mourning on his behalf.
Li Gu’s imperial mausoleum had already had its land designated, but formal construction had not yet begun — and yet, to no one’s anticipation, it was a prince’s burial mound that needed building first.
Xie Yuzhang continued as usual and waited until the thirtieth day of the month to enter the palace.
Li Gu received her in the rear hall. His face held no expression. He looked at her for a long moment, then said: “You have quite a hard heart.”
Xie Yuzhang was quiet for a moment before she answered: “It is not that my heart is hard. The truth is — these past few days, I should not have appeared. Your Majesty ought to have been spending more time with the Worthy Consort.”
Li Gu recalled Deng Wan’s vacant, numb gaze. The hall was silent for a long while.
Xie Yuzhang then said: “Would it be appropriate for me to go and see the Worthy Consort now?” — it was a question about Deng Wan’s condition.
Li Gu said: “She has not cried yet. You have a way with words — go.”
Xie Yuzhang received the command and went.
When she arrived at the Jinglan Palace, the palace maid said apologetically: “Her Ladyship has refused to see anyone these past few days.”
Xie Yuzhang said: “His Majesty sent me.”
The maid went to relay the message, and after a brief interval, returned to lead Xie Yuzhang inside.
To see Deng Wan again was like seeing the Worthy Consort Deng of her previous life.
And yet, there were small differences. Her expression was mostly vacant and numb — not yet as cold and distant as she would become later. In that later life, she had never had children again, and Xie Yuzhang had never known whether this was a matter of her health or something else. But throughout the ages, concubines in the palace without children had been numerous — it was hardly unusual.
Only, the maids in Empress Zhang’s quarters would gossip behind her back that her nature had gone twisted.
When Zhang Fen mocked and humiliated Xie Yuzhang with her words, there had been a moment when Xie Yuzhang glanced up and caught a glimpse of Deng Wan’s expression — her brow was furrowed.
She might not have spoken up to defend her the way Li Zhenzhen had, but she had never once taken the opportunity to step on her either.
In the previous life, the two of them had been two entirely parallel lines with no point of intersection.
Xie Yuzhang entered and saw Deng Wan, and called softly: “Your Ladyship.”
Deng Wan raised her head in silence and looked at her, without speaking.
Xie Yuzhang sat down, and said nothing either. The hall remained quiet for a long while.
At last, Xie Yuzhang spoke: “He should have a name. It is said that children who have been named find it easier to be reborn.”
Unlike those who said things like “You are still young, there will be more children,” Xie Yuzhang’s single sentence dismantled every wall Deng Wan had built.
The tears that Deng Wan had not been able to shed for days finally fell.
“His name was Tiger Head,” she wept. “His Majesty gave him the name himself. His Majesty cherished him no less than Green Sparrow.”