Half a month had passed before Shen Zhuxi found herself back in Shouzhou once more.
Summer was drawing to a close, and the rainy season Shen Zhuxi had been longing for was on its way. The Yan army — swelling in size with every place it passed through like a slow and aging serpent — wound its unhurried way into the vast expanse of Shouzhou territory.
Taking Shen Zhuxi’s suggestion into account, Shen Suzhan chose to make camp on the plains located only twenty li from Tiantian Cave.
Shen Zhuxi had endured a day of jolting inside the carriage. That evening, worried about running into Fu Xuanmiao if she went out, she did not step outside at all, and slept until she was woken by the palace maids the following morning.
She had dreamed of Li Wu the night before. Still half-asleep when she was roused, before she had fully come to her senses, she rolled over groggily and mumbled: “Li Pip… stop bothering me…”
“Your Highness, the Princess of Yue… please wake up… His Majesty has summoned you…”
The words “His Majesty” jolted Shen Zhuxi fully awake. She quickly got up, washed and dressed, and hurried to the royal tent where Shen Suzhan was staying.
Inside the ornate and beautiful royal tent, the murmur of a serious, hushed exchange between Shen Suzhan and Prime Minister Wang Jue drifted from behind the swaying gauze curtains. The moment a palace maid announced that the Princess of Yue was requesting an audience, the faint sound of conversation stopped at once. Then Shen Suzhan’s hearty laughter rang out.
“Our sixth sister is here — quickly, come in.” Shen Suzhan laughed as he walked out from behind the curtain.
Today he also wore an everyday robe, one that — for an emperor — was far too frivolous and bright in color. Shen Zhuxi kept her eyes lowered to the patterns on his garments and knelt with full reverence: “Zhuxi greets her imperial brother.”
“Rise — why stand on such ceremony between the two of us?” Only after Shen Zhuxi had completed her bow did Shen Suzhan smile and help her to her feet.
White-haired and white-bearded Wang Jue clasped his hands at his side: “Your Majesty, this old servant will take his leave.”
“Go ahead,” Shen Suzhan said with an indifferent wave of his hand.
Wang Jue gave Shen Zhuxi a silent bow, then, supported by the head eunuch who stepped forward to assist him, slowly made his way out of the royal tent.
“Sit down,” Shen Suzhan said, gesturing toward the daybed, and settled himself first on one side of the low table on the bed.
A slender palace maid stepped forward without making a sound and set down two cups of fragrant green tea.
“This year’s pre-rain Longjing has a particularly fine aroma — try it,” Shen Suzhan said.
Shen Zhuxi picked up the teacup, and the distinctive fragrance of Longjing immediately met her. She exclaimed with evident admiration that it was excellent tea, then discreetly spat the sip she had taken into her embroidered handkerchief while pretending to dab at her mouth.
This was entry-level palace survival knowledge, taught to her by her mother’s consort.
It was not that Shen Zhuxi doubted Shen Suzhan’s character — it was simply that at present, she had no particular reason to trust it. It was always better to be safe than sorry.
“What insights or impressions has sixth sister gained from these days at Fu Xuanmiao’s side?” Shen Suzhan asked, affecting a casual tone.
“Madam Fang has been unwell due to the change in climate and has been bedridden. Fu Xuanmiao has spent these past days attending to her at her sickbed. Zhuxi has barely seen him,” Shen Zhuxi replied, keeping her eyes lowered, her tone guarded.
“She falls ill the moment she leaves Jianzhou — those who don’t know the situation would think We have been mistreating this widow,” Shen Suzhan said, slumping lazily to one side on the daybed, a sneer playing at the corner of his mouth. “That First Gentleman Under Heaven has shown such admirable filial devotion — everyone in camp is praising him for nursing his ailing mother day and night without rest. Tell Us — should We issue a special imperial decree commending him?”
Shen Zhuxi had no desire to be drawn into the power struggle between these two, for all she knew she might be pushed out to serve as a weapon at any moment.
She put on an expression of clumsy agitation: “Zhuxi is frightened by the thought…”
Shen Suzhan lifted his gaze and looked at her with mild indifference: “What are you frightened of?”
“Zhuxi fears that if the marriage contract is not dissolved soon, she will be tainted by association and earn elder brother’s contempt as well…”
Shen Suzhan sighed: “In matters of marriage, the parents speak and the matchmaker arranges — one can hardly blame you for any of it.”
He gazed at the teacup before him, a flicker of recollection crossing his eyes: “At the time… the late emperor did intend to dissolve your marriage contract with Fu Xuanmiao. It was just…”
Shen Suzhan’s half-veiled words left Shen Zhuxi even more uncertain.
“If Father Emperor disliked the Fu clan, why did he give his blessing in the first place?”
“The story that circulated among the people was that your betrothal to Fu Xuanmiao came about because he rescued you in a moment of heroism, and the late emperor arranged the match to preserve your honor. But in truth, the incident of you falling into the water could be read as either serious or trivial — at your age then, what ‘honor’ was there to speak of?”
Shen Suzhan settled back on the daybed, his animated brows and eyes taking on an almost feline quality. He waved a hand, and the palace maids and attendants silently withdrew from the tent.
“The late emperor at the time did not yet know of the Fu clan’s wolfish ambitions. Moreover, because of an old matter from years past, he harbored a sense of guilt toward Fu Ruzhi. On top of that, the late Empress had repeatedly spoken in favor of the match — and so the late emperor at last nodded and agreed to the betrothal,” Shen Suzhan said slowly. “Now, guess — who was it that first put forward the idea of a marriage alliance?”
“…The late Empress?” Shen Zhuxi ventured cautiously.
“It was Fu Xuanmiao.”
A meaningful, drawn-out smile curved the corners of Shen Suzhan’s lips. His right hand began idly toying with the braided tassel on the jade pendant at his waist.
“It was he who repeatedly petitioned Fu Ruzhi, and Fu Ruzhi who then went to the late Empress and asked her to intercede on his behalf.”
“Later, as the late emperor’s differences with Fu Ruzhi over state affairs grew deeper, and as it became clear that the Fu clan had already risen to such prominence — if it were to further ally itself through marriage with the Bai family, the most powerful merchant clan in the land, suppressing any future treasonous ambition would become a near-impossible task. The late emperor therefore wanted to dissolve your betrothal to Fu Xuanmiao. But by the time he realized the Fu clan’s power had grown too entrenched to uproot, Fu Ruzhi and his son had already seized control of the court. Every attempt the late emperor made to dissolve your betrothal was cleverly obstructed by the Fu clan.”
These details of the past had never been shared with Shen Zhuxi by anyone. She had been a principal party to this betrothal, yet not a single person had seen fit to let her know any of this.
Entering for the first time into the hidden history behind this imperially decreed marriage, Shen Zhuxi could not help but listen with rapt attention.
“The late emperor did not give up. He knew that if the Fu clan was allowed to grow any stronger, the Shen dynasty would ultimately be supplanted by the Fu dynasty.” Shen Suzhan’s voice took on a slight gravity; the vivacious expression in his eyes stilled, and a rare composure settled over him. “We had long been plotting together. We planned to act at the moment the Fu clan was least on guard — on the day of your wedding to Fu Xuanmiao — to seize Fu Ruzhi and his son and publicly declare their crimes. But in the end —”
He let out a sigh: “What happened after that, you already know.”
She did. What happened after — all of it — she already knew.
Before she had even left the palace, the rebel army had already breached the imperial city.
Her father the emperor had died. Her mother’s consort had hanged herself. She had tumbled into a small writing cabinet and drifted her way into Jinzhou. From that moment, fate had been utterly, irreversibly overturned.
“Sixth sister — if you truly wish to sever all ties with Fu Xuanmiao, you must help your elder brother this one time,” Shen Suzhan sat up straight, propping his right hand on the low table, his eyes fixed steadily on Shen Zhuxi.
Shen Zhuxi knew the moment she had been waiting for had finally arrived. She played the role of a guileless fish rising readily to bait: “What must I do to help elder brother?”
“At tonight’s banquet, all you need to do is persuade Fu Xuanmiao to drink the imperially bestowed medicinal wine. Everything after that — leave to Us and the assembled ministers.”
“Medicinal wine?” Shen Zhuxi startled.
“It is merely a substance that causes temporary paralysis in the limbs — colorless and odorless, undetectable to the senses,” Shen Suzhan said with a smile. “If you succeed in getting him to drink it, the matter is already half accomplished. Once Fu Xuanmiao is taken prisoner, the Fu faction will be leaderless and will naturally crumble. After that, We will dissolve your betrothal, Great Yan will be rid of a festering affliction, and sixth sister will regain her freedom — a triumph for all.”
A substance that merely caused paralysis of the limbs was hardly enough to put Shen Zhuxi’s mind at ease. She said carefully, feigning uncertainty: “Does elder brother have other preparations in place?”
“That is nothing you need concern yourself with.” The warmly smiling Shen Suzhan of the previous moment pulled back, his expression evasive and deliberately vague. “We and Our teacher have laid plans for every contingency. To prevent word from leaking out with too many people in the know, it is best that as few people as possible be aware of the specific arrangements. Sixth sister can understand Our difficulty in this, surely?”
Shen Zhuxi could only bow her head: “Zhuxi understands.”
Shen Suzhan’s wariness left her deeply uneasy about this ambush.
As Shen Zhuxi walked out of the royal tent, her brow was furrowed with apprehension. She was full of doubt — a single cup of medicinal wine hardly seemed enough to bring down Fu Xuanmiao — and when she tried to learn more about the arrangements, Shen Suzhan had refused to say a word.
They clearly shared the same objective, yet even now she was still being kept outside of his confidence. The Shen Zhuxi of before she left the palace might genuinely have believed Shen Suzhan’s explanation, taking it at face value as concern for the greater picture. But now, she knew clearly — Shen Suzhan saw her as nothing more than a chess piece.
Not even an indispensable one. Just a small foot soldier who was not supposed to have thoughts of her own.
She raised her eyes toward the brilliantly sunlit sky. The blazing light was too harsh for her to look at directly. Bathed in the fierce summer sun, Shen Zhuxi felt not the slightest trace of warmth. The road ahead was impossible to predict. All she knew was that she had returned, once again, to the vicinity of Qianyinkeng.
This time — no matter what it took — she would find a way to rescue Li Wu.
Li Wu…
Thinking of Li Wu’s name, her heart filled with courage once more. Her eyes steadied and grew resolute. Shen Zhuxi drew back her gaze, reclaimed the composed dignity of a princess, and walked with calm, measured steps in the direction of her tent.
…
When Madam Fang awoke, the first thing she saw was Fu Xuanmiao seated at the edge of her bed, his body leaning against the bed rail, eyes closed in light sleep.
Her sight was nearly gone, and she could only make out shapes through strong light, straining to identify objects from within her hazy field of vision. Through that blur, she recognized the figure of Fu Xuanmiao — wearing what appeared to be his casual everyday clothes. The emerald-green sash at his waist hung soft and long, trailing down over the side of the bed. She had seen that wide-sleeved robe several times before, and it now looked slightly loose on his noticeably thinner frame. Looking at his obvious weight loss, a sorrow she could not name rose in Madam Fang’s heart.
Fu Xuanmiao was acutely sensitive to being observed. Beneath her gaze, his lashes fluttered twice, and then slowly, he opened his eyes.
In the instant before their eyes could meet, Madam Fang looked away, and the expression on her face returned to its usual coldness.
“Mother, you have been asleep for three days,” Fu Xuanmiao’s voice carried the hoarseness of many nights of poor sleep. “…How do you feel now?”
Madam Fang was quiet for a moment, then said: “…I want some water.”
Fu Xuanmiao paused for a brief moment, then answered.
“Of course.”
Gently, he helped Madam Fang sit up, arranged several soft pillows beneath her, then rose and walked to the table, poured a cup of warm water, and brought it back to the bedside.
“Mother, be careful.”
Carefully and respectfully, Fu Xuanmiao helped Madam Fang drink the water, then instructed a maidservant to bring the plain congee that had been prepared in advance and fed it to her. Madam Fang had always been frail, and the lingering melancholy from her failing eyesight had made her constitution even more fragile. This bout of illness brought on by the unfamiliar climate had nearly cost her half her life.
She managed to eat only half the bowl of congee. The warmth of the rice slowly spread through her stomach. Gathering a little strength, she said weakly:
“…You need not concern yourself with me.”
Fu Xuanmiao sat at the bedside, having just taken the calming herbal medicine from Ning Yu’s hands. He stilled at her words.
Ning Yu discreetly withdrew from the tent.
“…If anyone should use me to threaten you again…” Madam Fang said quietly, “do not concern yourself with me.”
Fu Xuanmiao was silent for a long while. His eyes held a hesitation and complexity she could not decipher.
“…Is mother forgiving me?”
Madam Fang closed her eyes, refusing to answer.
A bitter smile touched the corner of Fu Xuanmiao’s lips. He said softly:
“Tonight there is a gathering in camp to celebrate the start of the hunt. His Majesty has personally directed a great many songs and dances — it will likely go on until the middle of the night. Mother should rest early. His Majesty, taking mother’s illness into consideration, has permitted mother to recuperate in the tent.”
A low sound of acknowledgment came from Madam Fang’s throat.
Fu Xuanmiao had just begun to rise when Madam Fang’s eyes suddenly opened, her puzzled gaze falling on the medicine bowl in his hands.
“…The medicine?”
Fu Xuanmiao paused, then followed her gaze down to the medicine bowl in his hands.
“…Chan Yu was in a hurry and forgot mother’s medicine.”
He sat back down.
Perhaps it was Madam Fang’s imagination, but this time, he fed her the medicine more slowly than he ever had before.
After the calming medicine was finished, Madam Fang lay back down. Her already weakened spirit had been drained further by the long journey. In no time at all, drowsiness crept over her eyelids.
Little by little, the stillness around her deepened.
The last footstep gradually faded away.
Madam Fang drifted into sleep, and in her dreams, all was still and undisturbed.