Early the next morning, Tang Jiayu was in excellent spirits and, for the first time ever, ate an entire plate of Floral-patterned Luoshan cakes. Her maidservant thought nothing of this unusual behavior. Inside the painting tube, there was now a scroll of a figure painting, carefully tied with a silk ribbon—quite conspicuous—yet servants came and went through the room, and no one so much as touched it.
There were so many oddities like this that only the past-life Tang Jiayu, kept wholly in the dark, would have failed to notice anything amiss.
Tang Jiayu spent the entire day doodling, but she would always paint halfway, grow dissatisfied, and toss the paper away, until soon the room was littered with discarded drafts. Zhanqiu gently set a bowl of red bean custard on the desk, then crouched down and diligently began picking up the mess. She gathered a few crumpled pages and, by chance, glanced at the sketches scrawled on them—her pupils contracted in shock.
Zhanqiu rose with the papers in hand and asked, without betraying her expression, "Milady, these paintings are clearly quite good. Why throw them away?"
Tang Jiayu, as if tired from painting, tossed down her brush and stretched with a yawn. "Just doodling. I'm in a foul mood and don't want them anymore."
Zhanqiu stepped forward to massage Tang Jiayu's shoulders and, glancing at the drawing beneath her brush, remarked, "These Divine Beasts are intriguing. How did milady think of them?"
Tang Jiayu yawned again, crumpled the draft into a ball, and tossed it away carelessly. "They just came to mind, so I sketched them. I have a headache. I'm going to sleep—don't let anyone bother me."
Tang Jiayu kicked off her shoes, tumbled into the bed curtains, and buried her face in the pillow. After Zhanqiu saw that Tang Jiayu had not moved for a long while, she crouched down and picked up the crumpled paper.
On the paper were drawn various birds and beasts of exceedingly strange shapes—something like a horse but with a white head, tiger stripes, and a crimson tail; something like a turtle but with a bird's head and a serpent's tail; a fish with an ox's head; a sheep with nine tails… All bizarre and scarcely believable, sketched in hasty strokes—hardly masterful—but the appearance, size, and placement of each beast matched The Lingyun Chart exactly!
The Lingyun Chart bore not a single written word, only a scattering of strange beasts arranged seemingly without any pattern. When the military strategist had come to the residence to teach, he had deliberately shuffled the order before having Tang Jiayu copy it. Tang Jiayu had never seen the complete Lingyun Chart—so how could she have drawn a layout identical to it? Could it be that these Divine Beasts secretly followed some kind of pattern, and Tang Jiayu had already glimpsed it?
Zhanqiu stole a glance at Tang Jiayu, who lay within the gauze curtains, apparently already asleep. Zhanqiu tucked the paper into her sleeve and slipped quietly out the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, the supposedly slumbering Tang Jiayu snapped her eyes open. She looked back—sure enough, the crumpled paper on the floor was gone.
Tang Jiayu raised an eyebrow, rolled over, and sprawled contentedly across the bed.
A pity she had returned too late—the tutor who taught her painting had already left the household, and she could only try to mend the fence after losing the sheep. Still, running into Li Zhaoji had been an enormous stroke of luck, and she must not grow greedy.
Li Zhaoji's appearance last night had been unexpected. After she had declared she would go on a hunger strike, that dog Wei Chengjun hadn't even come to see her—Tang Jiayu had never imagined Li Zhaoji would show up. After a moment of surprise, she had slipped straight into character, performing the part of a lovesick young mistress hopelessly drowning in infatuation.
She thought she had played it quite convincingly. Unfortunately, the Young Lord, though young in years, was heavily guarded in his heart—her heartfelt confession had not made him fall in love with her, but it was enough that it stirred his guilt.
Having seen Li Zhaoji the previous night, Tang Jiayu wasted no time in pressing her advantage, casting out the bait. In her past life, she had seen the true Lingyun Chart, and recreating it was not difficult—but the mysteries contained within were beyond her understanding. So Tang Jiayu played her part for a while, then hurried off to sleep, afraid that speaking even a few more sentences would give her away.
Tang Jiayu stared at the swaying tassels on the bed curtain, wondering what the Governor's Manor was like, and whether Li Jichen would believe her.
·
Governor's Manor.
The crumpled, rough sketch was quickly placed on Li Jichen's desk. Li Jichen looked at the childish, clumsy ink strokes that nonetheless clearly bore the features of Divine Beasts, and asked, "Did she only draw this one?"
"There are many," Zhanqiu replied. "There are landscapes, scenery, poetry, and also… portraits of the Young Lord. Most are random scribbles done to vent frustration, but the portraits of the Young Lord—every single one was carefully rendered."
Li Jichen naturally knew about Tang Jiayu's hunger strike over Li Zhaoji. He had assumed it was merely a passing whim, that leaving her to stew would resolve the matter. But judging by this display… could it be that her feelings for Zhaoji were genuine?
As a father, Li Jichen's heart was complicated. If she were an ordinary woman, his son would bear responsibility for causing such a situation. But she happened to be the Emperor's daughter.
As a father, he knew well that Li Zhaoji, despite his cold and aloof exterior, was sincere at his core. Once he deemed someone his own, he would open his heart completely, without any guard. Li Zhaoji had never been with a woman before—he was a blank slate when it came to matters of love. If he were deceived by this daughter of the Li family…
Li Jichen deliberated again and again, ultimately unwilling to let his only son take such a risk. Li Zhaoji was the future of Hedong; his legitimate wife concerned the balance of various powers and could not be taken lightly. Several daughters of prestigious families had already been presented to Li Jichen, yet he had examined them all and found none satisfactory. Tang Jiayu did not possess a single trace of virtue or gentleness—she was absolutely out of the question.
Li Jichen put away the sketch and said, "Lead her to continue drawing. See whether it's mere coincidence, or whether she has truly discerned the patterns of the Lingyun Chart. After some time, find a way to create an opportunity and send the tutor back."
Zhanqiu bowed. "Understood."
"Don't let her go seeking death again—what kind of spectacle is that!" Li Jichen frowned. "If she were my daughter, I'd break her legs! I detest that whining, melancholic affectation of the Chang'an nobles. She was raised in the north for fifteen years—how is it she learned not a shred of vigor and fortitude, and would rather starve herself over a man? I'd be ashamed to even speak of it."
Zhanqiu acknowledged in silence. "Your subordinate obeys."
Tang Jiayu discovered that after Zhanqiu returned, her house arrest had not been lifted, and Pang Cheng remained as immovable as ever. A sense of dread crept over her.
She had thought that by offering the Lingyun Chart as bait, an ambitious man like Li Jichen would stop at nothing to obtain the treasure, even at the cost of a small sacrifice of his son. But it seemed that, compared to the Lingyun Chart, he loved his son more.
To say she wasn't envious would be a lie. Why should Li Zhaoji be so fortunate? Why should he alone receive all of his father's love? Tang Jiayu could not bear to see a life so perfectly complete. After this, she was determined to drag Li Zhaoji down from his pedestal.
Tang Jiayu began the third phase of her plan: sowing discord, setting brother against brother. In simpler terms—putting on a performance.
Several days had passed since the coming-of-age ceremony. Tang Jiayu was no longer on a hunger strike, but she remained listless, often staring blankly into space. The maids tried every trick to coax her into painting, but how could Tang Jiayu possibly pick up a brush? No matter how they urged, she only said she had no energy, spending each day leaning against the window, sighing over the spring and grieving the autumn. Pang Cheng and Jiang Chan both came to talk with her, probing between the lines for information about The Lingyun Chart, but Tang Jiayu carried her willful persona through to the very end—no matter who came, she was languid and indifferent.
The people of the Tang residence were helpless against her lovesick obsession. As time wore on, everyone's patience gradually faded, and they no longer kept watch over Tang Jiayu around the clock.
With Tang Jiayu looking half-dead, no one dared stop her when she wanted to go out for a change of scenery. After a few days, the grounding order existed in name only.
Gradually even Zhenchun, Zhexia, Zhanqiu, and Zhandong grew busy, no longer all four watching her at once. Tang Jiayu finally found her opportunity. One afternoon, when only Zhanqiu was in the room, she quietly handed her a letter.
"Go find out where Young Master Li lives, and deliver this letter to him." Tang Jiayu fished a piece of broken gold from her sleeve and placed it in Zhanqiu's palm, saying solemnly, "Asking around will inevitably require some greasing of palms. Take this money—don't be stingy with it. The most important thing is to find out Young Master Li's whereabouts quickly. If there's any left over, keep it for yourself."
Zhanqiu saw the envelope was addressed "To be opened personally by Bingwen," and was shocked. The Young Lord had actually told the Young Lady his courtesy name?
Tang Jiayu's gaze was earnest, as though she had pinned all her hopes on Zhanqiu. She gripped Zhanqiu's hand tightly: "Be careful on the road. Whatever you do, don't let Father find out."
Meeting Tang Jiayu's gaze, the words that violated the rules rolled in Zhanqiu's throat for a long time but refused to come out. She pried Tang Jiayu's fingers open. Tang Jiayu's heart sank—but then Zhanqiu placed the broken gold back into her palm, saying, "Young Lady, it's just asking after someone. There's no need for so much money. Keep it yourself for protection."
Tang Jiayu breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes sparkling as she looked at her: "Zhanqiu, I knew you were the best."
Zhanqiu looked into Tang Jiayu's eyes, her heart uneasy. A servant was merely a piece of property. Even they—Combat Maidens trained as Death-sworn Guardians from childhood—were nothing more than higher-grade punching bags. But after they came to the Tang residence, the Young Lady trusted them wholeheartedly, never putting on airs as a young mistress before them. Whatever fun things she got, she always set aside a share for them too. What fortune it was to serve such a mistress—and yet they had been deceiving her all along.
Tortured by guilt, Zhanqiu left in silence. She had always been taciturn, so she drew no one's attention. She did not know that before long, Tang Jiayu would use the same trusting tone and the same starry-eyed look to say to Zhenchun: "Go find out where Young Master Li lives, and be sure to deliver this letter to him with your own hands."
As Zhenchun felt the broken gold in her palm, her superior's orders dissolved silently in her belly. Pang Cheng had said to keep Tang Jiayu under strict surveillance and forbid her from contacting the outside world. But if Zhenchun didn't probe a little, how would she know what Tang Jiayu was trying to do?
Zhenchun professed her loyalty to Tang Jiayu profusely, patting her chest and vowing to deliver the letter. Once she reached a place where no one was around, Zhenchun glanced left and right, then quickly tore open the envelope.
Zhenchun didn't know many characters, but stumbling through, she could guess the gist well enough. When she saw that Tang Jiayu intended to elope with someone, she was greatly alarmed and hurried off to report to her master.
There were too many new recruits in the Lark Battalion, and she would never be able to make a name for herself under the Military Governor. Moreover, Zhenchun had long since grown to detest the endless martial training. She wanted the life of fine silks and rich fare, of ordering servants about, like Tang Jiayu. Even if she could not be the principal wife, being a concubine was still better than suffering in the Lark Battalion.
Zhenchun's master had long since become Wei Chengjun.
Wei Chengjun skimmed through the letter at a glance, and the more he read, the angrier he became. The veins on his arms bulged.
"Since we parted at the coming-of-age banquet, your countenance and bearing have been impossible to forget, waking or sleeping. But my father disdains your humble station and intends me for my cousin, forcibly locking me away in the inner courtyard. My heart is not a stone—it cannot be turned. So I have gone on a hunger strike to make my resolve clear and defy my father's command.
That cousin of mine—coarse in appearance, with a nature like a jackal, dull and tedious, understanding not the slightest bit of romance. Compared to you, who are elegant as a jade tree in the wind, with the bearing of a dragon and the grace of a phoenix—what difference between cloud and mud!
If in this life I cannot spend it with the one my heart desires, even if I live a hundred years, what joy is there in living? This torment here makes each day feel like a year—I truly cannot bear it.
I only pray your heart is like mine, and that you will not fail our mutual longing. On the twenty-fourth day of the tenth month, at the third quarter of the hour of hai, at the back gate of the Tang residence—I await your arrival. I will not leave until I see you.
The heartbroken one, Tang
Written in the depths of the boudoir, in the dead of night"
This letter was bold and blunt, entirely in keeping with Tang Jiayu's character. And she had spent a full half page emphasizing how Wei Chengjun could not compare to Li Zhaoji. Wei Chengjun was furious beyond measure and tore the letter into fragments.
When Zhenchun saw how great Wei Chengjun's rage was, she was startled and quickly asked, "Young General, why did you tear up the letter?"
Zhenchun had only shown the letter to Wei Chengjun in advance, but it still had to be submitted to the Military Governor. If Wei Chengjun tore it up, how was she to report back?
Wei Chengjun looked at Zhenchun darkly. "You read this letter?"
His gaze was savage, as though if Zhenchun said yes, he would silence her forever. Zhenchun trembled inwardly with dread. The words she had meant to use to claim credit quickly changed: "No… how would this servant dare read my master's letters? This servant brought it to report to the Young General the moment I received it. The Young General sees clearly."
When Wei Chengjun saw that Zhenchun did not know the contents of the letter, his expression softened slightly. But Tang Jiayu's letter was like a spark falling onto the knot that had accumulated in Wei Chengjun's heart for many years, instantly becoming a wildfire spreading across the plains, making it impossible for him to be calm again.
Wei Chengjun's mother was Li Jichen's younger sister, Li Yuan, who upon reaching age had married Wei Shu, a prominent clansman of Yunzhou. When Li Yuan first married out, the Li and Wei families had still been roughly of equal standing. But as Li Jichen won merit in suppressing rebellions and was enfeoffed as Military Governor of Hedong, campaigning south and north and expanding his territory step by step, the gap between the two families grew ever wider. After Li Jichen took up his post in Bingzhou, Wei Shu and Li Yuan also moved to Bingzhou. But the Wei family's original connections were all in Yunzhou, and after moving to Bingzhou they knew no one. After Wei Shu died, the Wei household became even more desolate. Li Yuan frequently ran to the Governor's Manor, wishing she could simply take up permanent residence at her brother's home.
Wei Chengjun had grown up in the Governor's Manor since childhood. In the administrative compound he had his own courtyard, clothes, and servants, and his food, clothing, and expenses were equal to Li Zhaoji's. Those who did not know better would have thought the Governor's Manor had two young masters. Wei Chengjun was three years older than Li Zhaoji and had early on entered the army to work for Li Jichen. Everyone knew Wei Chengjun was the Military Governor's nephew, and everyone respected him accordingly.
He appeared to be, like Li Zhaoji, one of the favored sons of Hedong. But Wei Chengjun himself knew—it was only in appearance.
No matter how well he performed, as soon as Li Zhaoji arrived, everyone assumed by default that he should yield his authority to Li Zhaoji. His mother reminded him daily to win over his cousin well—the future honor and disgrace of the Wei family all rested on Li Zhaoji. His uncles in the household hinted that he should bring Li Zhaoji home to stay the night; his cousins were unwed, and if Li Zhaoji took a fancy to them, it would be fine even as concubines. Even his subordinates reminded him to keep a low profile and not steal credit—some limelight belonged only to the Young Lord.
Who let Li Zhaoji be born as Li Jichen's son? Wei Chengjun accepted it. But Tang Jiayu did not know the identities of the two of them. Wei Chengjun had been in the household for many years; at first he only treated it as acting, but as time went on, no matter how busy he was in the military, he would find time to come to the Tang residence and play along with Tang Jiayu's childish games of make-believe. Wei Chengjun of course had his own selfish motives—his birth was inferior to Li Zhaoji's, and only by marrying a noble wife would he have the strength to contend for the realm in the future—but his feelings for Tang Jiayu were also genuine. Even if the Great Qi Dynasty's fate were to run out, he would still treat her as his wife.
He thought Tang Jiayu was the only woman who treated him well not because of his status, but because of Wei Chengjun the person. Yet she had only met Li Zhaoji once, and she too had completely fallen for Li Zhaoji—even going so far as to fast and elope for his sake?
Even in Tang Jiayu's heart, he was inferior to Li Zhaoji in every way. How could Wei Chengjun let anyone else see this letter, with such a monstrous humiliation?
For every one who saw it, he would kill one.
Wei Chengjun's face showed little expression, but for some reason Zhenchun felt her heart pound and her back go cold. Fearing Wei Chengjun would vent his anger on her, she hurried to prove herself: "Young General, the lady seems to have pieced together The Lingyun Chart. Zhanqiu passed down the Military Governor's order for us to guide the lady into painting more."
Wei Chengjun's eyes shifted slightly: "What?"
"It's true. Zhanqiu collected all the paintings, but this servant secretly hid one." Zhenchun hastily took Tang Jiayu's sketch from her sleeve and presented it to Wei Chengjun like a treasure. "Young General, look."
When Wei Chengjun saw the familiar image on it, he slowly clenched his fist, wishing he could crush the draft to pieces.
How much did Heaven favor Li Zhaoji? It had given him birth, talent—and now even Tang Jiayu was about to hand over The Founder's Hoard to him.
On what grounds?
Wei Chengjun threw the crumpled paper to the ground and ground it to pieces with the tip of his shoe, saying word by word: "Clean this place up. Don't let anyone find out."
Tang Jiayu was unwilling to marry him—he would have her anyway, torment her bit by bit, let her know who the true Son of Heaven really was.
Wei Chengjun's expression was sinister. Zhenchun watched with terror, and bowed her head in panic: "Yes."
Wei Chengjun turned back to look at the woman, and in an instant became gentle as a spring breeze. He took her hand and said: "You're thoughtful. Keep watching her for me. In the future, I won't forget your contributions."
Zhenchun understood Wei Chengjun's implication, and her heart settled greatly. See—how could the Young General have murderous intent toward her? The Young General was merely angry at Tang Jiayu's fickleness and couldn't control his rage. She was different from Tang Jiayu; she was utterly loyal to the Young General, and he would not treat her poorly.
Having taken her reassurance, Zhenchun said joyfully: "Yes, this servant is willing to go through fire and water for the Young General, steadfast unto death."
Wei Chengjun smiled and stroked her face, saying a few absent-minded words. After turning away, his face immediately became one of disgust.
A lowborn fool—did she deserve to covet him?
They had seen his ugly display of fawning over others, and once he gained power, the first ones he would kill would be them.