5 Speculation
◎Prince Zhao discovered her female identity and imprisoned her in the palace, subjecting her to wanton humiliation.◎
They had encountered each other so directly, with nowhere to hide on the street.
Gu Ningxi unconsciously squeezed the oil-paper package in her hand, held it in front of her, then switched it to her left hand.
After much thought, she finally managed to come up with a greeting: “Y-Your Highness, where have you come from?”
Lu Jing paused, then answered her: “Wangyun Tower.”
“Oh, I see.” Gu Ningxi certainly knew Wangyun Tower—she had even revised the blueprints for its third-floor layout years ago. However, she had never visited again since Prince Zhao left the capital.
“Then, Your Highness, take care on your way.” She forced a smile.
It was a meaningless exchange, leaving Xie Qian behind Lu Jing utterly bewildered. He pondered it repeatedly but could not discern any deeper meaning.
“Mm.”
Seeing that Gu Ningxi truly had nothing else to say, Lu Jing did not linger any longer.
After Prince Zhao rode away, Li Ping drove the carriage over to pick up his master.
He opened the carriage door for Gu Ningxi: “I didn’t expect you to run into Prince Zhao here, Master. What a coincidence.”
“It’s not that surprising,” Gu Ningxi stepped into the carriage. “Wangyun Tower isn’t far ahead.”
It seemed she would have to find another place to discuss matters with her cousin in the future.
The evening breeze blew in gusts, cooling the crispy pastry but failing to dispel the earlier awkwardness and embarrassment.
With the carriage curtain lowered, Gu Ningxi recalled the romantic scenes from her dream—and the very person involved had just been standing before her.
She touched her reddened earlobe and sighed silently.
…
The full moon shone brightly, and the candles in the study of Leyou Courtyard were still lit.
Hearing familiar footsteps, Gu Ningxi covered the writing on her desk.
“Mother,” she called out with a smile.
Madam Meng had brought a maid to deliver a bowl of snow pear and silver ear soup, sweet and soothing for the lungs.
She said with concern, “It’s so late already. Why aren’t you resting?” Ningxi had kept herself busy in the study ever since having dinner with her earlier that evening.
Gu Ningxi replied vaguely, “There are still some matters from the Ministry of Works to attend to. I’ll be done soon.”
The maid Rutong set down the soup and withdrew. Madam Meng watched her daughter enjoy the late-night snack, her eyes filled with affection.
The desk was cluttered with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. Madam Meng couldn’t bear the mess and always wanted to tidy it up.
“I’ll do it myself,” Gu Ningxi protectively gathered her books, stacking a few in a couple of moves to clear a space.
Madam Meng shook her head with a smile, then glanced at the bookshelf behind her daughter, packed to the brim.
She was not highly literate, barely understanding the household account books, and had no particular talents.
But she loved watching her daughter study. In the past, when Ningxi returned from school, she would always tell her stories from the books.
The portion of soup was just right for a late-night snack. Madam Meng advised, “Go to bed early after bathing. Don’t exhaust yourself. Work is never-ending—one task after another.”
Gu Ningxi nodded and obediently replied, “I understand, Mother.”
Only then was Madam Meng satisfied. After watching her finish the snack and offering a few more reminders, she left with the maid.
Once the footsteps faded away, Gu Ningxi sighed in relief and pulled out a sheet of paper from beneath the books. The paper was covered in messy scribbles, understandable only to her.
She sorted out her thoughts, still starting from the dream.
Putting aside whether this is baseless speculation, if the dream were true, then the palace coup in the dream must have occurred because Prince Zhao’s faction and the Crown Prince’s faction had already become irreconcilable. Moreover, Prince Zhao had not ascended to the position of Crown Prince, leaving him no choice but to take desperate measures. Once it reached the point of a palace coup, as an official of the Crown Prince’s faction, she would undoubtedly have deeply offended Prince Zhao. Such is the nature of factional struggles—the victor becomes king, the loser becomes an outlaw. She might have originally faced demotion, exile, or even execution. And when Prince Zhao discovered her female identity, he imprisoned her in the palace and subjected her to relentless humiliation.
Naturally, she did not wish to end up in such a predicament. Being dragged into the struggle for the succession was never her desire, so now, more than ever, she must avoid offending Prince Zhao over matters related to the Crown Prince.
And if the dream were false, then as an advisor to the Crown Prince, she should still avoid excessive entanglement with Prince Zhao’s faction. Otherwise, neither the Crown Prince nor the Xuanping Marquis Estate would let her off lightly.
The safest approach, Gu Ningxi concluded, was to steer clear of matters concerning Prince Zhao’s faction whenever possible. Unless absolutely necessary, it was best to minimize contact with Prince Zhao as well.
She knew this was only a moderate strategy, but she had no way to bypass the Crown Prince and reconcile with Prince Zhao. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered requesting a post outside the capital, but her mother was in the capital, and she couldn’t leave her alone in the Marquis Estate.
Since she had no choice but to remain in the midst of these conflicts, at least for now, this path would not lead to any major mistakes.
…
Recently, court affairs had been peaceful, with clear skies and pleasant weather. In the imperial study, father and son were engaged in a game of chess.
Emperor Mingde placed a piece on the board and shook his head with a sigh. “Your chess skills haven’t improved much.”
Lu Jing was not particularly fond of chess, but he had come to pay his respects in the afternoon and, at his father’s request, agreed to accompany him in a couple of hand-talk matches.
The game was nearly decided, and Emperor Mingde had no intention of continuing. Instead, he personally guided Lu Jing through a game review.
Back in the day, he had taught both the Crown Prince and Prince Zhao chess by hand, and he had always been more patient with this child than with his other sons.
Lu Jing’s gaze remained fixed on the chessboard, not wanting to dampen his father’s enthusiasm.
All the memorials retained by the Chancellery had been returned, and with routine court matters handled by the Crown Prince, Emperor Mingde enjoyed leisurely afternoons.
The sound of pieces being placed echoed crisply. Emperor Mingde remarked, “You’ve only just returned to the capital. Is Prince Zhao’s residence to your liking?”
The entire estate had been expanded by over thirty percent, but Lu Jing hadn’t had the leisure to inspect every detail.
He simply replied, “Thank you for your concern, Father.”
Today, the Emperor deliberately avoided discussing political affairs. After exchanging a few casual words between father and son, they finished a cup of tea.
Lu Jing glanced at the sky outside, but Emperor Mingde said, “The sixteenth day brings a full moon. Stay in the palace for dinner this evening.”
The chief eunuch by the Emperor’s side, ever astute, had long since instructed the imperial kitchens to prepare.
Lu Jing set down his teacup. “I understand, Father.”
Satisfied with the answer, Emperor Mingde nodded. There was no need for further words between father and son. “Go now, and return early.”
He ordered his attendant to accompany Prince Zhao to Lizheng Hall. Lu Jing rose. “I take my leave now.”
…
Lizheng Hall was second only to the Taiji Hall in terms of grandeur within the palace. Logically, such a magnificent hall should not have felt so desolate.
However, Lizheng Hall was the former residence of the late Empress Yiwen. Eleven years had passed since the Empress’s passing, and the hall had remained vacant ever since. Palace servants maintained it through daily cleaning, preserving it exactly as it was.
In the main hall hung a portrait of Empress Yiwen in her youth. She hailed from the Zhending Prince Estate in Hedong and was renowned as the “Hedong’s First Beauty” before her marriage.
At seventeen, she married Prince Jin, Lu Hong, becoming his principal consort and later giving birth to a son.
Alas, heaven envied her beauty. Two years before her husband ascended the throne, Empress Zhen was already frequently confined to her sickbed. On the very first day of Emperor Mingde’s reign, he issued an edict to establish her as empress. After the investiture ceremony was completed, granting her the title of empress, on the third day, the imperial physicians could do nothing more, and Her Majesty the Empress passed away, leaving behind her only legitimate son, then just twelve years old. The Emperor was deeply grieved and personally wrote a eulogy for his beloved wife. The Ministry of Rites proposed the posthumous title “Yiwen.”
Qingmao, the head maid of Lizheng Hall, led all the attendants in a deep bow, her tone barely concealing her excitement: “This servant pays respects to Your Highness. May Your Highness enjoy boundless blessings.”
She was Empress Zhen’s personal maid back then and had watched Prince Zhao grow up.
“Aunt, please rise.”
Apart from Qingmao, all the former attendants who served Empress Zhen were now assigned to Lizheng Hall.
Lu Jing asked a few questions about the recent situation in Lizheng Hall, and Qingmao answered each one. Even during the three years His Highness was away from the capital, no one in the palace had troubled them.
Every year, on the anniversary of Her Majesty the Empress’s birth and during memorial rites, the inner court handled everything with utmost propriety, without the slightest neglect.
After serving tea, Qingmao and the others did not disturb Prince Zhao further and withdrew to attend to duties outside the hall.
The hall was spotlessly clean. Lu Jing found a chair and sat down.
He actually had few memories of Lizheng Hall; his mother had only lived here for a little over half a month.
The furnishings in the hall remained as luxurious as before. He simply wanted to find a quiet place in the palace to sit for a while.
All the items his mother used during her lifetime were kept exactly as they were in Lizheng Hall. The three storerooms in the rear hall were filled with her dowry from when she married.
When Empress Yiwen married, the Prince of Zhending’s mansion was at its peak. The dowry sent with her was countless, including a cavalry of fifty men.
The Prince of Zhending’s mansion married off its only legitimate daughter, wishing her a lifetime of peace and prosperity. The wedding procession stretched for miles, and the dowry was loaded onto ships in over a dozen batches. Even knowing the dowry was lavish, no bandits dared to target it along the way, for fear of offending the Prince of Jin’s mansion and the Prince of Zhending’s mansion.
Empress Zhen had only one son after many years of marriage. In the last two years of her life, she specially cleared out a storeroom to prepare gifts for her future daughter-in-law. Just as the Prince of Zhending’s mansion had prepared for her, she did the same for her son’s wife.
Perhaps she also knew she would not live to see her son marry, so she made arrangements early.
In the portrait in the main hall, the woman had bright eyes and pearly teeth. Every accessory and item was exquisite, capturing her in the prime of her youth.
Lu Jing gazed at the portrait for a long time. His mother loved beauty and adored pretty little children.
Once, when the young son of the eldest branch of the Marquis of Xuanping’s mansion entered the palace, his mother held the delicate, jade-like child for a long time, even gifting him the jade pendant she wore. Children from other noble families never received such an honor.
His mother was skilled in danqing (traditional painting). When the Prince of Jin’s mansion established a school for women, she even personally taught there for a few days.
Recalling these past events, a faint smile unconsciously appeared at the corner of Lu Jing’s lips.
The glow of the setting sun slanted into the hall, bathing the entire imperial palace in golden light.
…
Outside the Taiji Palace, Chief Steward Li Ji had been eagerly waiting for a long time and finally caught sight of Prince Zhao.
As it was nearly time for the evening meal, if Prince Zhao did not return soon, he would have to go to Lizheng Hall to fetch him.
“This old servant pays respects to Prince Zhao,” Li Ji said with a beaming smile. “Your Highness, please come quickly.”
The kitchen has already prepared everything. Her Majesty the Empress and the other two princes have also arrived. His Majesty is hosting a family banquet today, and it will begin at a quarter past the hour of you.
Stepping through the lingering glow of the evening sunset, Lu Jing had yet to enter the main hall when he could already hear the relaxed sounds of conversation and laughter from within, a scene of harmony and joy.
Since the empire had just been stabilized, Emperor Minghe knew in his heart that he was destined by heaven, and his contentment needed no words.
As Lu Jing arrived, the conversation inside the hall paused briefly, and Prince Huai, Lu Chen, also rose to his feet.
Lu Jing first paid his respects to the emperor and empress seated at the head of the hall: “Your son greets Father Emperor and wishes Mother Empress boundless blessings.”
“Rise quickly.”
Empress Yao sat gracefully beside Emperor Minghe. Today, she wore a silver-red wide-sleeved gown embroidered with phoenixes and intricate gold thread. She had never favored extravagance, and her dark hair was adorned with few jewels, save for a golden phoenix hairpin with a pearl dangling from its beak at her temple, signifying her status as the empress.
After exchanging greetings among peers, the Crown Prince, seated in the first position on the left, nodded in acknowledgment to his fifth brother. Prince Huai, Lu Chen, followed suit, addressing Lu Jing as “Imperial Brother.” He was Empress Yao’s youngest son and, though close in age to Prince Zhao—separated by only three months—the two brothers had never played together since childhood.
Empress Yao smiled warmly. “Very well, everyone may be seated.”
Lu Jing took his seat, directly across from the Crown Prince and Prince Huai.
In the side hall, preparations for the meal had already begun. Empress Yao remarked, “Qian has been away from the capital for so long; I wonder if his tastes in food have changed.”
The imperial kitchen had prepared the dishes according to old customs, fearing there might be oversights.
Lu Jing smiled. “Mother Empress worries too much.”
His courtesy name had been given by Emperor Minghe before he came of age. At that time, the Central Plains were not yet unified, and the Turkic Khagan in the north watched with covetous eyes. With the Great Jin facing threats on both fronts, Emperor Minghe had hoped for his child on the battlefield to be safe and prosperous.
The palace dishes remained as usual, but Empress Yao specifically instructed the maids to serve Prince Zhao. After a harmonious dinner, the sky had grown late, and the time for closing the palace gates was slightly delayed.
Lu Jing was the first to take his leave, and upon seeing this, the Crown Prince and Prince Huai also rose together.
Emperor Minghe and Empress Yao sat side by side. The child Qian was proper in his conduct and unwilling to stay longer in the palace.
His bedchamber within the palace had always been kept ready, though he had not stayed overnight for a long time.
Empress Yao comforted, “Qian has just returned to the capital; he likely has matters to attend to in his residence.”
Emperor Minghe recalled the afternoon’s inquiries and guessed that the layout of Prince Zhao’s residence did not quite suit his tastes.
He sent word to Li Ji: “Summon the Vice Minister of Works to the imperial study tomorrow afternoon.”
“Your servant obeys the decree.”
…
“Your Highness.”
The invitation to the banquet at the Eastern Palace had been delivered to Prince Zhao’s residence two days prior, written personally by the Crown Prince.
Sun Jing had spent the past two days having someone investigate the guest list for the Eastern Palace banquet and respectfully presented it to Prince Zhao.
Sun Jing was one of the stewards who had accompanied Empress Zhen as part of her dowry. Since Prince Zhao was enfeoffed and established his own residence, he had been managing affairs at Prince Zhao’s residence.
Apart from His Highness, the Eastern Palace had also invited many generals under Prince Zhao’s command, all of whom had rendered meritorious service on the battlefield.
Few other senior court officials were in attendance. The Crown Prince acted prudently, strictly adhering to his roles as both a son and a subject. The remaining guests were mostly officials of the Eastern Palace, predominantly from the younger generation.
The banquet was scheduled for the nineteenth day of the second month. Lu Jing closed the guest list and said calmly, “Very well.”
[Author’s Note]
The next update will be on Wednesday at nine o’clock.