He sat down right there on the stone steps, leaning against the pillar and looking up at the sky. It was not as though he wished to go — but he had no choice.
Behind Shouyai Pass lay the vast, unobstructed plains of Yanzhou. If the pass were lost, the Chaoli tribe’s cavalry would have a clear road to the capital within half a month. How could he entrust a pass like that to military commanders who had never faced actual war? One misstep and the situation at home would unravel before the enemy even arrived.
He was the most fitting choice. The Duke of Founding State knew it — which was why he had offered those remarks that amounted to saying nothing at all. His surname was Gu. He was the Shizi. He was the leader of the Seven-Lodge Division. Whether it was his lineage, the merit he had accumulated over these years, or the skill he commanded in battle — all of it would be enough to hold the allegiance of the frontier soldiers. Even if he did not bring it up himself, in the end every person present would realize that he was better suited for this than anyone.
He understood why Hua Zhi’s fury ran so deep. There was no one — not a single person — who would willingly send the one they cared for onto a battlefield. That was a place where lives were taken. No one could promise to come back alive, himself included. He could not make that promise to Hua Zhi.
Nation on one side, family on the other. He wished to choose family — but could only choose the nation.
He could not allow the people of the Great Qing dynasty to be cut down beneath iron hooves. He could not allow Hua Zhi to become the subject of a conquered land. He had to go and win whatever sliver of a chance remained for everyone. And if in the end it was not enough — then he and Hua Zhi would go together to meet whatever lay beyond.
As well as he knew her, he knew this: if the Great Qing dynasty fell, Hua Zhi would not endure a life of humiliation. The Chaoli people would never let her go peacefully either.
This was a trap with no way out. He had to break it.
Inside the room, Hua Zhi rested with her eyes closed for a long moment before opening them again.
Ying Chun immediately raised the teacup in her hands and offered it forward.
Hua Zhi lowered her head, turning the lid of the cup slowly, sweeping the tea leaves from the surface. She asked: “How much ready silver do we have access to?”
“Accounts settled as of last month — roughly a hundred and seventy thousand taels of silver and more.”
Hua Zhi was not surprised at the figure. Though no significant new ventures had been added to her holdings, the ones she had were all well-established and thriving. The snack alley had become one of the capital’s well-known landmarks, drawing crowds day and night. The dining house and seafood business both pulled in steady income daily. The canned goods trade, the first of her ventures, had by now been developed further and further by Bai Mingxia, growing ever larger. Each month, after accounting for the portions distributed to others, what came in to her hands was no small amount — and this was still accounting for the fact that she had already set aside a portion to purchase grain stores.
Ying Chun glanced at her young mistress and continued: “As per your earlier instructions, most of the silver has been converted into gold bars and official silver ingots and put into storage, available for immediate use at any time.”
“Have the steward send people out to purchase large quantities of pork.” Hua Zhi set down the teacup and rose to her feet. “I’m going to ask the Crown Prince to lend me the use of his Crown Prince Residence. A good number of staff should still be stationed there, and the supplies prepared before should still be on hand as well. Go yourself and bring people along to oversee this. The staff at the Crown Prince Residence — take the roster from the steward and go through it name by name before putting anyone to work. Better to be safe.”
Ying Chun acknowledged the instruction. From the very first sentence she had already understood what her young mistress intended to do. And yet just a moment ago she had been so angry…
The door opened. Gu Yanxi sprang to his feet — and looked at Hua Zhi with an expression that was almost conciliatory.
Hua Zhi brushed past him without stopping. “Go back. No need to follow me.”
Gu Yanxi could not possibly refrain from following. He simply dared not walk too close. He trailed three steps behind and asked: “Where are you going?”
“Into the palace.”
Gu Yanxi hastened forward and moved to block her path. “Hua Zhi — you shouldn’t get involved in this…”
“The Grand Tutor is forbidden from participating in governance. I will comply with the late Emperor’s decree.”
Looking at Hua Zhi — outwardly no different from her usual self yet clearly not at all the same — Gu Yanxi was struck by a sudden urgency and closed the distance in a single stride, pulling her stiff, unyielding form into his arms. “Hua Zhi, I’m sorry.”
Hua Zhi made no move to pull away. Right there, with others watching, she let herself be held. She felt like Wang Baochuan, the woman of old who had kept vigil in a cold cave for eighteen years — her husband’s heart full of ambitions he had to pursue, her own heart full of helplessness she could not act upon. She wished she could tie him to her side with a rope and keep him from going anywhere at all.
But this helplessness, this fury, this boundless, unending worry — she could only digest it all in silence.
She was not Wang Baochuan.
She pushed him away, lowered her head, and straightened her sleeves. “Go back. Don’t appear within my sight for the next two days.”
She stepped past him and walked away with long, steady strides. Gu Yanxi took two steps after her — and in the end stopped himself. Hua Zhi’s anger had not yet cooled. He did not want to add to her aggravation.
Though she held the privilege of entering the palace without formal announcement, Hua Zhi still followed proper protocol and had her nameplate presented, then waited to be received.
The Crown Prince came out personally to meet her at the steps of the hall. Before she could kneel in obeisance he caught her hands and helped her up, smiling as he asked: “Grand Tutor — what brings you here?”
“This official has a matter to request of Your Highness.”
The Crown Prince paused, then gave a clear nod and extended his hand in welcome.
Lai Fu waved the other attendants away and stood close in attendance himself.
“This official wishes to borrow the use of Your Highness’s Crown Prince Residence.”
The Crown Prince did not ask what she intended to use it for. He agreed at once. “I’ll give instructions when we’re done here — the entire Crown Prince Residence staff will be at the Grand Tutor’s disposal.”
“This official is grateful to Your Highness. The matter I wish to request is actually something else.”
“Please speak, Grand Tutor.”
Hua Zhi raised her head. Her eyes were clear and still — so still that the Crown Prince found himself holding his breath in response. And then he watched as the Grand Tutor went down on her knees before him. He was startled and immediately moved to help her up. “Grand Tutor…”
“Your Highness.” Hua Zhi’s voice was louder than usual — and heavier. The Crown Prince found himself stopping short without thinking.
Hua Zhi gave the clasped-hands salute — the formal salute of a court official. “This official wishes to petition Your Highness for a special dispensation, to permit this official to make a visit to the Hua Family’s library.”
Of course — the Hua household was still under official seal. Even with all the merit the Grand Tutor had accumulated, it had yet to benefit the Hua Family’s situation. The Crown Prince pressed his lips together, already on the verge of saying he would at least return the family’s old residence to them first — but before he could speak, the Grand Tutor continued: “This official’s meaning is — without anyone knowing. This official would like to slip in quietly, late in the evening.”
“There is no need for such secrecy. This Crown Prince can simply…”
“It is not yet the right time. Your Highness is being impulsive.” Hua Zhi interrupted the Crown Prince without ceremony and made her intention plain: “The Hua Family’s library holds the handwritten works of many of our ancestors from generations past. This official has browsed through a few of them, though at the time she had no particular interest in the lives of others and did not read carefully. This official wishes to seek out the handwritten notes of our ancestor Hua Jingyan, to see whether he left behind any words of guidance for those who would come after him.”
The Grand Tutor already knows about the Chaoli tribe crossing the border. The Crown Prince stepped forward and raised her to her feet himself. “What reason could I have to refuse? Is it not all for the sake of our Great Qing dynasty?”
No — it is only because I want to give Gu Yanxi something more to work with. Hua Zhi said this in the silence of her own heart. She truly had no sweeping ambitions. She did not seek her name in the historical record. She was no champion of women’s rights, nor did she intend to fight for what women deserved. She only wished to live peacefully and well, with the people she loved also living peacefully and well. Such a simple, modest wish — why was it so impossibly difficult to achieve?
“I’ll come with you.”
Hua Zhi turned the thought over briefly. “That would work. Let’s bring Bailin as well.”
By now evening had already nearly arrived. Hua Zhi moved to take her leave, and the Crown Prince said: “Bailin should be on his way back about now. The Grand Tutor is welcome to dine here — Lai Fu, send word to my grandmother and let her know.”
“Yes.”
The Empress Dowager had spent decades within the palace walls. She saw at once what the Crown Prince, in his youth, had not yet thought to consider. She let out a long, slow breath and waved the messenger away. In the face of matters of such weight, what did certain proprieties amount to?