Late at night, the Empress Dowager put on her robe and, from behind the curtains, asked, “What’s all the noise?”
Hua Xiangyi drew back the drapes and helped the Empress Dowager out of her fragrant, warm bed. In a gentle voice, she said, “It’s the students of the Imperial Academy, demanding the Emperor revoke an appointment.”
The Empress Dowager rose, her attendants quietly lighting lamps and pulling back curtains. Hua Xiangyi guided her to the Luohan bed with a fitted waistboard, bringing warm cushions and a brazier, even heating her milk curd.
The Empress Dowager stirred the spoon, brow slightly furrowed. “Why has this happened so suddenly?” She paused, thinking. “The decree was only issued yesterday, and tonight there’s already an uproar—it is far too fast.”
“The disturbance comes from the Imperial Academy,” Hua Xiangyi said, staying close. “Madam, the Academy is the nation’s pinnacle of scholarship. Even high ministers cannot intervene openly.”
Sipping the milk curd, the Empress Dowager’s bare, unadorned face bore traces of age, yet her aura was extraordinary. She slowly set the bowl aside, leaning against the cushions, eyes fixed on the glazed lampshade. After a moment, she said, “Indeed. Shen Wei’s crimes are now obvious. Emotionally and logically, even the high ministers cannot chastise the students. If they force the Emperor to revoke the decree, then this time… I, the Empress Dowager, will be powerless, like a mute forced to taste bitterness.”
“Madam,” Hua Xiangyi said, “releasing Shen Zechuan was never the Emperor’s intention. Now, due to this decree, he has been called ‘foolish and muddled,’ and it may create distance between you and the Emperor.”
“That doesn’t matter,” the Empress Dowager replied. “Once Concubine Wei bears a child, the Great Zhou will have an heir. As long as there is an heir, I remain the Grand Empress Dowager. The Emperor’s illness has already distanced him from me. If he becomes angry this time, it is merely the tantrum of a sick man—let him vent.”
After his illness, the Xian De Emperor no longer fully obeyed her edicts. Though minor, these acts hinted at separation. The Empress Dowager held power in the palace, with Pan Rugui at her side. The former court had Minister Hua; to maintain the Hua family’s dominance, a compliant, obedient emperor was necessary.
If Xian De failed, she could simply replace him.
Her distaste for Prince Chu was not personal—it was because Li Jianheng, having come of age, was no longer a weak child nor her own grandson. Such a man on the throne could not compare to a obedient heir she had raised herself.
“Moreover, today’s petition slaps the Emperor’s face,” the Empress Dowager said calmly. “Nine years on the throne, every detail of his life, every expense, all under my supervision. Now he wants to be independent and autocratic. To please the Xiao family, he neither releases Shen Zechuan nor relinquishes protection of Prince Chu. But I understand him—he is all show outside, timid inside. He tries to please both sides, ends up seeming indecisive, and offends both.”
“Didn’t the Emperor imprison Shen Zechuan to satisfy the Xiao family?” Hua Xiangyi asked.
“Imprisonment?” the Empress Dowager held Hua Xiangyi’s hand. “Imprisonment is a lifeline. The Emperor thought he defended the Xiao family’s honor, but he sowed disaster. Xiao Jieming, having lost his brother, wanted Shen Zechuan alive; as long as Shen Zechuan lives, it diminishes the gratitude of the twelve thousand Iron Cavalry who saved the Emperor. Consider, Xiao Jieming’s loyalty proved he had no second thoughts—he even left his brother in the capital. Yet the Emperor, fearing to offend me, turned Shen Zechuan’s life into a death sentence. A man who should live becomes a root of trouble; in a life-and-death matter, the Emperor remained naive. Now, to protect Prince Chu, he refuses to fully investigate little Fuze’s case, cutting off Pan Rugui’s countermeasures. Yet fearing my displeasure, he reluctantly releases Shen Zechuan—thinking the Xiao family would understand. But Xiao Jieming, far in the north, would not be pleased.”
“So,” Hua Xiangyi said, “the ones inciting the Academy’s uproar—could they be Xiao family agents? By forcing the Emperor to revoke the decree, they strain relations with the Hua family, prevent ministers and Madam from intervening, and indirectly target Shen Zechuan.”
“If so,” the Empress Dowager brushed back Hua Xiangyi’s hair tenderly, “Xiao Jieming wouldn’t act as one of the Four Generals. He is cautious; if it were him, he wouldn’t be caught so easily. Besides, the north and the Imperial Academy have no dealings.”
“I cannot guess,” Hua Xiangyi snuggled closer. “Tell me, Madam.”
“Very well,” the childless Empress Dowager said, doting on Hua Xiangyi. “Listen carefully. Our eight outer cities encircle the capital. These eight cities are the origin of the current Eight Great Families. The Hua family, in the southern city of Di, has long been the favorite of palace consorts. Only under me did they achieve unmatched prosperity, leading the Eight Great Families. Years ago, when the late Emperor ascended, the Yao family enjoyed supreme favor—three imperial tutors in succession. Had it not been for Yao’s failings, Qi Huilian from Yuzhou might never have become Grand Tutor Yongyi. Now, the Xi family, with Xi Guan’an rising to command the eight barracks, only oversees the sons of the Eight Great Families—merely a military teacher. Xi family conduct has always been low; they cannot achieve greatness. The Xue family, after Patriarch Xue’s demise, has declined; only Xue Xiuzhuo serves in the central government. As for Wei, Pan, Fei, Han, I will explain later.”
“I have heard this from father,” Hua Xiangyi said. “You are telling me to illustrate that the instigators at the Academy might be from other great families.”
“I am suspicious,” the Empress Dowager said. “Fortune rotates; the Hua family has thrived since my ascent. Now, with the Emperor ill, it’s plausible someone’s heart turns elsewhere. Tomorrow, summon Pan Rugui and have the Jinyiwei investigate discreetly. The capital is vast; there are no walls impervious to the Empress Dowager.”
Xiao Chiye, dripping wet, entered the Mingli Hall with Ji Lei.
It was late; the Xian De Emperor was still awake.
“You are confined for reflection,” the Emperor said hoarsely, holding a folded memorial. “Why follow the Jinyiwei around?”
Xiao Chiye, genuinely wronged, replied, “Commander ordered me to go; I thought it was your command, Your Majesty.”
“And after you went?” the Emperor asked.
Ji Lei immediately kowtowed. “Report to Your Majesty: the Imperial Academy students, under unknown instigation, not only spoke recklessly of state affairs and slandered the Emperor but also attacked Eunuch Pan. The scene was chaotic. I tried to apprehend them, but Governor Xiao refused.”
Not only did he refuse, the Imperial Guard acted similarly—blocking the Jinyiwei as if playing roughhouse, a band of pampered, insolent thugs.
“Did you stop the Jinyiwei from seizing anyone?” the Emperor asked Xiao Chiye.
“A group of students,” Xiao Chiye said, “if sent to the imperial prison, their fate is uncertain. Even if I obeyed orders, how would the Emperor’s reputation fare if harm came to them?”
“They form cliques, collude with hidden forces, and intend to disrupt the court! If such people go unpunished, what use is the Jinyiwei?” Ji Lei said angrily.
The Emperor coughed, speaking after a long pause: “Ce’an acted correctly.”
“Your Majesty!” Ji Lei could not believe it. “These students gathered to create chaos, even shouting ‘rebellion.’ If not severely punished, the realm itself is at risk!”
“They speak plainly,” the Emperor said indifferently. “If not pressed to the brink, why abandon study to clash with the Jinyiwei? The Shen remnants should not have been released. If not… if not!”
He flung the memorial and coughed. After a while, he returned to normal.
“…Regardless, they must be punished. Reduce the Imperial Academy’s stipend by half, meals twice a day to once, punishment lasting six months.”
Ji Lei, sensing the Emperor’s decision, fell silent. He knelt, though the Emperor knew his thoughts.
“The Jinyiwei are my dogs,” the Emperor said, staring at Ji Lei. “As their commander, whom do you answer to? Normally I overlook it, thinking you are obedient enough. Tonight, you will appease the students. Understood?”
Ji Lei kowtowed. “Your servant obeys! The Jinyiwei serve only the Emperor!”
When they exited, the rain had eased. A young eunuch held umbrellas for both.
Ji Lei looked displeased, raising his hand to Xiao Chiye as if to leave. Xiao Chiye, unconcerned, said, “Old Ji, I had no choice. I was confined yesterday. To come out and act, I dared not touch the students recklessly.”
Ji Lei, seeing his shameless demeanor, had no outlet for anger, merely nodded hastily, wishing him gone.
“But my Imperial Guard—what do you think?” Xiao Chiye took the umbrella from the eunuch, sending him off, continuing toward the palace with Ji Lei.
What could Ji Lei do? Just a bunch of rascals! Worse following him!
Polite words from Ji Lei: “Their spirit is much improved.”
“Indeed,” Xiao Chiye shamelessly replied. “The training ground is too small. Tell the commander to grant us more space for the Imperial Guard?”
Ji Lei, aware Xiao Chiye had played polo there before, could not refuse openly. “Difficult, I fear. Last month, Prince Chu expanded his estate, forcibly taking houses, reported to the authorities. The capital is crowded. Where would I find land for your training ground? Even if land exists, it must be granted to the Eight Barracks.”
“Hmm,” Xiao Chiye said under the umbrella. “If the city refuses, the outskirts work. Just enough space to play fully.”
Ji Lei caught his meaning, smiling. “Ah, Second Young Master, you’ve already chosen the land! No need to feign!”
“Then I entrust it to you, Old Ji,” Xiao Chiye said. “You have the influence; the commander cannot refuse. Once done, we’ll speak of it.”
“No need to mention money,” Ji Lei finally relaxed. “I adopted a godson and plan to get him a fine horse. Who better than you to advise?”
“I’ll send him a few,” Xiao Chiye said. “Horses from the Hongyan Mountains, no worse than mine. Soon, I’ll have them delivered to your residence.”
“I’ll inform Gu’an,” Ji Lei said. “Don’t worry; I’ll send word!”
As they parted, the rain stopped. Xiao Chiye climbed into his carriage. Chen Yang watched Ji Lei’s sedan pass. “Governor, you’re really giving him your horses? Such a shame!”
“Short hands, long reach,” Xiao Chiye said, removing his boots, already soaked. “The training ground is essential; too visible in the capital. That old rascal will seize the horses otherwise.” He said coldly, “I’ll let his son go meet his ancestors.”
The carriage jolted. Xiao Chiye wiped his face with a handkerchief. “And that person?”
“Who, who?” Chen Yang asked.
“Shen Zechuan!”
“Already returned,” Chen Yang poured tea. “I saw him faltering… how can such a body serve in the Jinyiwei?”
“Training elephants,” Xiao Chiye said, drinking the tea. “A weakling like him avoids hard labor; he’s surely the type to slack off.”
A person prone to laziness sneezed, sitting in the dim light, wondering if he had caught a chill.
Suddenly, the door opened. Xi Hongxuan entered, fat and boisterous, exclaiming, “This place is great! Even the Jinyiwei can’t touch it.”
Shen Zechuan didn’t turn. “A dilapidated mansion—best part is it can’t be rented out.”
“But it wasn’t easy to get this place,” Xi Hongxuan rubbed his hands, sitting. “Given by the late Emperor to the Crown Prince, then to Qi Huilian, sold after his death. How did you acquire it?”
Shen Zechuan sipped tea, exchanging a moment of playful glances with Xi Hongxuan.
Xi Hongxuan raised a hand calmly. “My bad mouth—always prying into people. Heard on the road Pan Rugui got hit too. Your hand must have felt satisfying.”
“Sir Xi, as commander of the Eight Barracks,” Shen Zechuan said, “after this incident, the Empress Dowager will be suspicious—future days won’t be easy.”
“If Xi Guan’an suffers, I benefit,” Xi Hongxuan said, plopping his hand on the table. “Better to have the students speak first, taking the initiative. After this, you’ve truly stepped forward.”
Shen Zechuan picked up chopsticks, selecting some vegetarian food. “Minor tricks, Second Young Master—please laugh at me.”
Xi Hongxuan only began eating after him. “And afterward, what will you do?”
“Earn a living in the Jinyiwei,” Shen Zechuan said. “Ji Lei is Pan Rugui’s godson, and close to Xi Guan’an. If you want Xi Guan’an dead, how surpass Ji Lei? Better we each keep a life and let them remain lifelong friends.”
Xi Hongxuan chuckled, leaning on the table, eyes darkly fixed on Shen Zechuan. “What grudge do you bear against Ji Lei?”
Shen Zechuan picked off a Sichuan pepper, eyes half-lidded. “I dislike his shoes.”