2 Origins
◎Gu Ningxi smiled bitterly: “Prince Zhao’s unparalleled achievements have already reached the point where there is nothing left to reward or titles left to bestow.”◎
That imperial edict was eloquently written, and those who paid attention can still recall a few lines to this day.
The Secretariat had already leaked news that His Highness Prince Zhao would arrive in the capital early next month.
Everyone pondered privately: the Crown Prince, as the foundation of the state, would not be lightly deposed. With the protection of His Highness the Crown Prince, Chief Secretary Gu was secure—though it remained uncertain just how far the Crown Prince was willing to go for him.
While the struggle for the imperial succession remained unclear, when it came to the Xuanping Marquis Estate, the contest for the heirship within the Gu family was already out in the open.
Although Gu Ningxi was the legitimate eldest son of the Xuanping Marquis, he was born to Madam Meng, who hailed from the countryside. This romantic past of the Xuanping Marquis was almost common knowledge in the capital.
Years ago, when the Xuanping Marquis led troops into battle, he was betrayed by his deputy general, severely wounded, and ended up stranded in the countryside. By a twist of fate, he was rescued by Madam Meng. He claimed to have been attacked by river bandits, deliberately concealing his identity.
During those turbulent times, household registries were difficult to verify. The Meng family, kind-hearted and having lost their eldest son to illness with no adult male left in the household, spent half their family fortune to carefully nurse the man their daughter had saved, intending to take him as their son-in-law.
Later, after the Xuanping Marquis recovered and returned to the capital, he made some promise to the Meng family—though no one knew exactly what—and the Meng family even scraped together travel expenses for him.
Two years passed without any news from the Xuanping Marquis, and then Madam Meng’s hometown was struck by floods. During the escape, she became separated from her family and, left with no support, had no choice but to set out early for the capital to find her husband.
The journey was originally arduous, but perhaps by heaven’s grace, Madam Meng encountered Empress Yao, who was traveling from Jinyang to the capital. Madam Meng showed her the marriage certificate and the jade pendant left by her husband. Empress Yao, kind-hearted, brought her along to the capital and personally escorted her to the gates of the Gu residence.
It was only then that Madam Meng learned her husband was actually the heir to a marquis estate—and that he was already engaged to the legitimate daughter of a count’s family, with the wedding imminent.
The social standing of the Gu and Meng families was worlds apart. Had Madam Meng arrived alone, the marquis estate could have easily dismissed her with the status of a concubine.
But by chance, Empress Yao had encountered the matter, and the marriage certificate left by the Gu heir was undeniable proof.
This caused an uproar throughout the city, leaving the Gu family in a difficult position, and even the Emperor personally intervened.
At that time, the Emperor was still the Prince of Jin. Although he had married Zhen Shi, the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Zhending, as his princess consort, he held deep affection for his first wife, Yao Shi.
After declaring himself the Prince of Jin, he brought his wife from their hometown to the capital, intending to establish both as consorts. The Gu family’s situation happened at just the right time to create momentum.
Thus, the Xuanping Marquis Estate, interpreting their lord’s intentions, had the old Marquis personally decide to welcome both Madam Meng and Madam Shen through the gates in grand sedan chairs simultaneously. The heir now had two legitimate wives, with no distinction in status between them. Although the count’s family was dissatisfied that their eldest daughter was placed on equal footing with a country woman, they dared not defy the wishes of the Prince of Jin and the marquis estate.
In the inner quarters of the Xuanping Marquis Estate, both wives were referred to with their surnames. Madam Meng had only one son, Gu Ningxi, while Madam Shen had a son and a daughter.
Although she had conceded a step in the status of principal wife, Madam Shen and the Jing’an Count’s family absolutely refused to yield the heirship.
Given the Meng family’s humble background, how could they compare to a count’s family? Many speculated privately that it was no wonder Lord Gu had early on pledged himself to the Crown Prince’s faction, borrowing His Highness’s influence to contend for the position.
…
After half a cup of tea had been drunk, the Minister of Personnel arrived as scheduled, and the hall finally began its deliberations.
The renovation of Prince Zhao’s residence had been the Ministry of Works’ most critical task since last winter, and the Minister had emphasized it once again. Especially since His Highness Prince Zhao would soon return to the capital, not the slightest negligence could be tolerated.
Two officials were specifically assigned to oversee matters at Prince Zhao’s residence, leaving other miscellaneous affairs beyond their reach. Therefore, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works appointed Gu Ningxi to handle the construction of the embankment in the suburbs.
“I understand,” Gu Ningxi replied with a respectful bow, planning to retrieve the relevant documents later.
The Minister of Works seated above gave a slight nod. Although Gu Ningxi came from a noble family, the young official possessed genuine talent and diligence, not one to shirk responsibilities.
With all matters properly arranged, around mid-morning, those gathered in the hall dispersed.
Recently, colleagues’ attitudes toward her had shifted several times, and Gu Ningxi was well aware, though she had no time to dwell on it for now.
After another busy day, she stepped out of the Ministry of Works under the glow of the setting sun, already more than an hour later than the scheduled dismissal time.
With no time to bring her mother some of her favorite pastries, Gu Ningxi instructed the carriage to head directly back to the Marquis of Xuanping’s residence.
The troubles of the outer court were never brought back to her mother’s Qinlan Courtyard.
After all, the vast marquisate was already troublesome enough.
The three branches of the Gu family had not yet separated. Her grandfather, who had fallen ill in his youth while serving under the late emperor, now held a nominal position and spent his days resting at home. The eldest branch currently managed the household, and with all three branches living under one roof, it was naturally lively.
In early spring, the orchids in Qinlan Courtyard had yet to bloom.
“Mother.”
After paying her respects, Madam Meng, who hadn’t seen her daughter for seven or eight days, looked her over from head to toe and said with concern, “Why do you look so weary? Are there troubles at court?”
“It was just windy last night, and I didn’t sleep well,” Gu Ningxi replied with a smile. “Mother, I’m hungry.”
Except during festivals, the eldest branch usually dined separately. Gu Ningxi accompanied her mother for the meal in Qinlan Courtyard.
Knowing she would return, Madam Meng had already instructed the kitchen to prepare several new dishes. With some extra silver spent, the kitchen had put in considerable effort.
“This is red date and black chicken soup, simmered over low heat for two hours. Try it quickly.”
Madam Meng always felt sorry for her daughter, who, at such a young age, had to disguise herself as a man and rush about in court affairs. Were the people in the imperial court easy to deal with?
But her voice carried little weight, and she could not change the Marquis’s decision.
When she was pregnant with Ningxi, the second branch had already produced the eldest grandson, who was greatly favored by the old master. In the eldest branch, aside from the eldest daughter born to Madam Shen, three or four other daughters from concubines had already been added, yet a son remained elusive.
For years, rumors swirled that the eldest branch’s title might pass to another line. As time went on, the Marquis made up his mind: regardless of whether her child was a boy or a girl, it would be announced as a son.
And so, Ningxi shouldered the burden, becoming the legitimate son of the eldest branch.
Even when Madam Shen gave birth to a legitimate son a year later, Ningxi’s identity could no longer be changed.
For years, they had let the mistake stand, and Ningxi gradually grew up. Most girls her age had already been betrothed, and Madam Meng couldn’t help but worry. How could she let her daughter, still bearing the identity of a legitimate son, miss out on a lifetime of marriage?
Last month, she finally found an opportunity to bring the matter up with the Marquis, but he only said, “Ningxi is of the Gu family’s bloodline, and of course, I have plans for her. Do not mention this again.”
The Marquis left before finishing dinner, and Madam Meng was left with no recourse.
Gu Ningxi served her mother dishes, comforting her, “I think things are fine as they are.”
Though she knew the Marquis household was using her to pave the way for her third brother, being able to serve at court was far better for her than being confined to the inner chambers.
Moreover… Gu Ningxi smiled. Only by holding an official position could she have the opportunity to fulfill her own aspirations.
Perhaps if the Crown Prince ascended the throne, this goal could be achieved more easily.
She sighed, thinking once again of her dreams.
…
Gu Ningxi’s residence in the Marquis estate was called Leyou Courtyard. Every time she returned, her mother would have it cleaned in advance.
The bedding had been freshly aired. The maid Chuntao, who was making the bed, smiled and said, “Madam heard that the young master has been sleeping restlessly lately and specially sent some calming incense. Shall I add it for you?”
The next day was a rest day. Gu Ningxi nodded in agreement.
Moonlight streamed like water through the window lattice, and amid the faint fragrance of incense, the person on the bed enjoyed a peaceful night’s sleep.
Well-rested, Gu Ningxi changed into a moon-white round-collared brocade robe the following day and left the estate at the hour of Si to keep her appointment.
As usual, they met in a private room on the second floor of the Qingming Teahouse. Gu Ningxi arrived early and ordered a pot of light tea.
The corridor window was half-open, allowing her to hear the storyteller downstairs already beginning his performance.
Gu Ningxi tilted her head slightly to listen. The tale was still about Prince Zhao’s victory at the Sishui Pass, where he captured two enemy commanders in a single battle. This story had recently taken the capital by storm, and it was no exaggeration to say it was known to women and children alike.
“Have you been waiting long?”
Gu Ningxi looked up and saw her cousin. She shook her head with a smile. “I ordered a pot of Biluochun.” She had left the estate early precisely because she wanted to get out and clear her mind.
Meng Ting sat down opposite her, unconcerned about what tea was served.
Gu Ningxi poured tea for her cousin. Years ago, her mother had lost contact with her maternal family, and for many years, they had been unable to find any news of their relatives. Just as hope had faded, her cousin had distinguished himself so remarkably, earning military merits in the southern campaigns and being appointed as a fifth-rank Yunwei General.
Gu Ningxi and her cousin met at court and quickly confirmed each other’s identities. Her mother was overjoyed upon hearing the news, and the Xuanping Marquis household readily acknowledged this branch of the family.
Her maternal grandfather and uncle had both passed away, leaving her cousin as the pillar of the Meng family. He had purchased a residence in the capital and, two years prior, brought their grandmother and aunt to the city to live out their years in peace.
After more than a decade apart, Madam Meng was reunited with her mother and sister-in-law. They embraced, shedding tears of joy.
Although Gu Ningxi and her cousin had not known each other since childhood, perhaps due to their blood ties, they quickly grew close.
When her cousin came of age, the veteran General Sun, who had taught him military strategy, gave him his courtesy name.
It was the two characters Prince Zhao had called him in her dream: “Mingxuan.”
Logically speaking, Prince Zhao should not have known her cousin’s courtesy name.
Realizing what she was thinking, Gu Ningxi unconsciously shook her head. This was, after all, just her dream, yet she was trying to apply logic to it.
“What’s wrong?” Meng Ting asked with concern.
“I was just thinking about Prince Zhao’s return to the capital.”
In front of her cousin, Gu Ningxi never felt the need to hide much. To her, he was far more trustworthy than her clansmen who shared the Gu surname.
Meng Ting felt the same. He knew a fair amount about the affairs of the Xuanping Marquis household, especially the matter of Ningxi disguising herself as a man—his aunt had not hidden this from him.
Downstairs, the storyteller was reaching the climax of the battle. News passed down through the common folk often tended to be exaggerated.
Even to this day, Gu Ningxi had not been able to learn the full details of that war. The Eastern Palace naturally provided only a few brief words, careful not to praise Prince Zhao’s achievements too highly.
Since their parting three years ago, Gu Ningxi had deliberately avoided news of him.
“Cousin, tell me about it,” she said.
“Good.” As a military officer, Meng Ting had unique insights into this world-renowned battle.
Facing Gu Ningxi, he made an effort to explain the military affairs in a concise and understandable manner: “Prince Zhao’s campaign was originally intended to capture Wang Xingman of Luoyang.”
Wang Xingman had raised an army during the chaotic times, occupied the lands of Henan, proclaimed himself the King of Zheng, and commanded over two hundred thousand troops.
“Luoyang City, the ancient capital of three dynasties, was guarded by a hundred thousand elite soldiers, with ample supplies and provisions, making it easy to defend but difficult to attack.” Meng Ting dipped his fingertip in tea and sketched a simple map on the table. “His Highness Prince Zhao did not launch a frontal assault. Instead, he sent surprise troops to eliminate the granaries and garrison towns around Luoyang along the way, blockaded the northern bank of the Yellow River, and by last autumn, had encircled Luoyang City.”
Luoyang became an isolated city, with many of its generals fleeing through the city gates to surrender. It was only a matter of time before Luoyang fell.
Yet at this very moment, Wang Xingman secretly sent an envoy from the capital, offering a hefty sum to seek aid from Xia King Liu Jian’an.
The people of Hebei were known for their loyalty and righteousness, and Liu Jian’an also feared that if Luoyang fell, he would be next. Thus, he led a hundred thousand elite troops to provide reinforcements.
The storyteller struck the wooden block: “Yet, within Luoyang City, Wang Xingman continued to resist stubbornly, while the Xia rebel army was already close at hand. His Highness Prince Zhao found himself in a dilemma: if he did not withdraw his troops, he would be surrounded by both the Zheng and Xia armies, attacked from both front and rear; but if he withdrew, the Luoyang campaign would end in failure, and he feared there would never be such a good opportunity again.”
Prince Zhao’s generals were divided into two factions, debating endlessly over whether to withdraw or not.
Meng Ting said: “With the military situation becoming increasingly urgent, Prince Zhao ordered his troops to continue besieging Luoyang with full force, while he himself led the Black Armor Army to Sishui Pass to engage Liu Jian’an. With only three thousand five hundred iron cavalry, His Highness Prince Zhao defeated the hundred thousand troops of the Xia army, and Liu Jian’an surrendered.”
Seeing his reinforcements reduced to prisoners, Wang Xingman, now trapped both internally and externally, promptly surrendered by leaving the city. In a single battle, Prince Zhao captured two kings, pacified the Central Plains, and made his name known throughout the world.
The situation in the capital was once again stirring up waves, and Ningxi found herself caught in the midst of it. Meng Ting was aware of her difficulties.
Lately, she often appeared preoccupied, so Meng Ting, hoping to lift her spirits, brought up some lighter topics.
“I heard that when Liu Jian’an surrendered, Prince Zhao ordered his soldiers to bind him tightly and bring him before him, demanding: ‘I came here to capture Wang Xingman; this has nothing to do with you. Why did you cross the border and provoke my troops?’ Can you guess how Liu Jian’an replied?”
“How?” Gu Ningxi looked up, giving her cousin some face.
Meng Ting cleared his throat and imitated the man’s words: “If I hadn’t come, wouldn’t you have had to trouble yourself to march all the way north to capture me?”
Gu Ningxi let out a soft chuckle.
Xia King Liu Jian’an, capable of bending and stretching, could indeed be considered a formidable figure of his time.
As the storyteller concluded a fine tale, the teahouse remained lively and bustling.
Meng Ting was around the same age as Prince Zhao, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the emergence of such a peerless genius among their generation.
“The Battle of Sishui Pass achieved results that others might not accomplish in thirty years.” Meng Ting was genuinely curious. “I just wonder how His Majesty will reward Prince Zhao this time.”
Prince Zhao had conquered half the empire. Gu Ningxi smiled bitterly: “Prince Zhao’s unparalleled achievements have already reached the point where there is nothing left to reward or bestow upon him.”
Now, only the position of the Eastern Palace Crown Prince remained—or even—
the throne of the Great Jin Empire.