"Emperor Xizong was Emperor Yizong's fifth imperial prince—neither the legitimate eldest son, nor the eldest by birth, yet he ascended to the throne at the age of twelve before his father's bier. Do any of you fine patrons know why?"
Scattered applause and encouragement rose from the hall: "Because he was exceptionally clever and had the talent to govern the realm?"
Someone at the tables sneered: "Since when has a new emperor's succession ever been decided by virtue or ability? It must have been because he was the favored one."
"Perhaps his mother's clan was powerful, and the earlier princes couldn't outmaneuver him."
The patrons debated among themselves. The storyteller stroked his beard and shook his head: "Wrong, wrong. His biological mother was merely an ordinary palace maid who died young of illness—forget any support from his maternal relatives, even her posthumous title of 'Beauty' was only granted after her death. Emperor Yizong had nine sons in all. Sandwiched in the middle, neither high nor low, when he turned ten and the princes were made imperial princes by custom, he was given the title 'Pu'—which shows how little favor he enjoyed in Emperor Yizong's eyes. His own abilities were unremarkable—no notable achievements in poetry or letters that anyone had heard of, though he was quite skilled at games and amusements. No faction at court supported him, and yet the throne fell into the hands of this twelve-year-old. The reason lies in…"
The storyteller paused at the crucial moment, and the crowd below grew restless. After milking the suspense long enough, he slapped his wooden block with a crack: "It lies in the fact that he was raised by eunuchs."
The hall fell silent for a beat, then erupted in even louder protests: "Impossible! The succession of an emperor is no small matter—how could a few eunuchs be allowed to act so wantonly?"
"Indeed! There must be some other hidden reason."
The storyteller wore a mocking smirk and said: "And yet the reason is precisely this absurd. In the final years of Emperor Yizong's reign, the Divine Strategy Army had fallen into the hands of eunuchs, who could even manipulate the appointment and dismissal of chancellors. Among Yizong's nine sons, Prince Pu was young and easy to control, and having been raised by eunuchs, he was utterly dependent on them—which caught the eye of Tian Youxian, Commander of the Left Army of the Divine Strategy Army. To put Prince Pu on the throne, Tian Youxian had all his brothers killed, sparing only the Sixth Prince, Prince Ji, and the Seventh Prince, Prince Shou, because these two princes, like Prince Pu, were young and inexperienced, with mothers of humble origin who had died early—no threat whatsoever. After Prince Pu ascended the throne, he indeed placed great trust and reliance on Tian Youxian, leaving all matters of state to his discretion. In Chang'an, anyone who wished to hold office had to send gifts and bribes to Tian Youxian; pay enough, and even earldoms and marquisates were within reach. When the court granted crimson or purple robes of rank, there was no need to petition the Son of Heaven—General Tian could decide it all with a casual note."
Few people in the hall were still eating; all had been drawn in by the bizarre tale the storyteller was spinning. "This is the great Qi—how many fine men have sworn to serve their country, yet they suffer a castrated eunuch to run rampant like this?"
"The Son of Heaven protects his father's ministers—even if a subject were to tear out his own heart or break his own neck, how could he stir the young Son of Heaven who gallops his horse through the forbidden palace?" the storyteller said. "Emperor Xizong was addicted to pleasure, spending his days playing polo with the imperial guards inside the palace, caring not a whit for the resentment boiling over beyond the walls. Zhang Chao's rebel army had fought its way from Caozhou all the way to the outskirts of Luoyang; once Luoyang fell, Chang'an itself would be in peril—and at such a time, Emperor Xizong was in the rear palace playing polo with Tian Youxian for amusement, and issued an edict: whoever finished in the top three on the field, regardless of birth, would be appointed Military Governor of the Three Circuits of Jiannan."
The storyteller paused here, unable to suppress a deep sigh. "When the realm is not yet in chaos, Shu is the first to descend into it; when the realm is already at peace, Shu is the last to recover. Jiannan is a land of rich soil and teeming people, wrapped in mountains and rivers, fortified both within and without—a place to shelter from calamity and guard the nation. Yet the position of Jiannan Military Governor, a post of such paramount importance, was decided by so absurd a method as betting the Three Rivers on a game of polo. Alas! With a sovereign such as this, it is a calamity for all living beings!"
The diners joined in with sighs of their own, and one curious soul asked, "And what happened afterwards?"
"Afterwards, Luoyang fell to the rebel army of Zhang Chao. In truth, at that time Chang'an had deep moats and firm ramparts, storehouses well stocked with grain, and governors of every circuit hastening to the capital to come to the emperor's aid. Had the Son of Heaven only held fast within Chang'an and not gone forth, it was not at all certain he could not have withstood the rebels. But Emperor Xizong was a coward who feared for his own skin. Before the rebels even arrived, he heeded the slanderous words of Tian Youxian, took his imperial guards, and fled to Shu—abandoning the million citizens of Chang'an to their fate. Had he held on for just half a month more, the governors would have arrived in the Guanzhong region with their relief forces!"
Many in the hall sighed in lament. The fact that a storyteller in Bingzhou dared to openly criticize the late emperor in a tavern showed that Hedong's rebellious intent was plain for all to see—even the common folk of Bingzhou held no reverence for the court.
Tang Jiayu finally heard of her own biological father's deeds, yet it was from the mouths of passersby, learned in this very manner. She listened until her chest felt tight with fury, but within the private booth, Li Zhaoji sat quietly sipping his tea, indifferent to it all, while the maidservants Zhenchun and the others listened with rapt interest. Even though the people outside were speaking ill of her birth father, Tang Jiayu could not show it, nor could she hurl the pastries in her hands at the storyteller to make him shut up.
Tang Jiayu was furious, anguished, and also felt lost. Was her father truly like this?
The storyteller downstairs continued: "Because the Son of Heaven abandoned the city and fled, Chang'an fell without even a fight. After Zhang Chao occupied the capital, he indulged his men in slaughter and looting, unleashing untold tragedies. And when Chang'an suffered this great catastrophe, the fleeing emperor still had the heart to amuse himself. He sought pleasure in the land of Shu, and one night, drunk on wine, he dismissed his attendants and went boating alone on a lake, where he accidentally fell into the water and drowned. For a Son of Heaven to conduct himself so absurdly, no wonder his ministers settled on the posthumous name 'Xi' when they composed it for him. A misfortune for the nation—a misfortune for the nation indeed!"
Tang Jiayu could bear it no longer. She rose to her feet and said, "It's a bit stuffy in this booth. I'm going out for some air."
Li Zhaoji and the maidservants all turned to look at her. Tang Jiayu herself knew her sudden move was too conspicuous, but she simply could not listen any longer. If she remained in that booth a moment more, she would suffocate.
Li Zhaoji studied her with a probing gaze, but in the end said nothing and merely replied, "Very well. The crowd outside is a motley assortment of people—take your maids with you, and don't wander about."
Chun Xia Qiu Dong stepped forward of their own accord, but Tang Jiayu stopped them. "I'm only stepping out to the doorway for some air. There's no need for so many to accompany me. Zhanqiu, you come with me."
Without waiting for anyone else to respond, Tang Jiayu hurried out of the booth. Zhenchun was taken aback at first, then a look of displeasure crossed her face. Zhanqiu quickly bowed to Li Zhaoji, then lowered her head and hurried after Tang Jiayu.
Tang Jiayu no longer had the mind to care about maintaining balance among the four maidservants. She only wished to escape all of this. Walking out to the corridor, she said to Zhanqiu, "I want to walk alone for a bit. Don't follow me."
Zhanqiu acknowledged the order but trailed behind, keeping a distance that allowed her to watch without intruding. This was not the solitude Tang Jiayu had wanted, but Zhanqiu was already the one who treated her most like a mistress. Tang Jiayu smiled bitterly to herself—she, a princess, lived with less freedom than a common woman. It was a sheer humiliation.
Tang Jiayu wandered aimlessly along the corridor. The storyteller downstairs had a booming voice, and no matter where she walked, she could not escape it. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Even if it meant exposing herself, she was about to make the storyteller shut up when the door to the neighboring private room opened. Wang Rong stepped out and tossed a bag of coins down below. "That's enough. Go on, leave."
The storyteller caught the money bag, weighed it in his hand, then grinned and cupped his hands in a salute to Wang Rong. He withdrew as instructed.
The irritating voice finally stopped. Tang Jiayu breathed an inward sigh of relief, but her expression remained unchanged as she asked, "Was the storyteller not telling his tale well? Why did you send him away, young master?"
Wang Rong glanced over and was somewhat surprised to see Tang Jiayu beside him, but he still maintained the bearing of a gentleman and nodded to her. Neither haughty nor humble, he said, "My aunt, Consort Wang, is a consort of Emperor Xizong. Emperor Xizong is both honored and elder. For the sake of propriety toward one's elders, one must not be disrespectful. Moreover, the rights and wrongs of the court are far from as simple as they appear on the surface. There are many people here and prying eyes. It is best to speak with caution."
Tang Jiayu's eyes widened in shock. "You said your aunt is Consort Wang?"
"Yes." Wang Rong swept his gaze over Tang Jiayu and quietly grew wary. "Why does the young lady concern herself with Consort Wang?"
It was as if a great bell had been struck inside Tang Jiayu, and the reverberation left her ears ringing. Her mother, Consort Wang, was Wang Rong's aunt? Did that not mean Wang Rong was her own cousin?
She had thought they were connected only through Princess Shou'an. Though that could also be called a cousin relationship, it was distant at best. She had never expected that Wang Rong and she were cousins through their fathers' sisters—second only to full siblings.
Her parents were both dead. She had no brothers or sisters, no friends. Under all of heaven, it seemed she alone had no home. But now fate was telling her that she had a cousin. She was not alone!
Tang Jiayu immediately cast aside that tiny bit of goodwill she had once felt, and in its place surged an overwhelming sense of closeness. But when she saw Wang Rong's guarded gaze and his retreating posture, it was like a basin of cold water thrown in her face.
How could she have forgotten? They were in Hedong now, and Li Jichen's men were watching from not far away. She could not reveal anything and bring harm to herself and her cousin.
Tang Jiayu forced down the urge to acknowledge their kinship and said with a smile, "You are open and honorable, observant of propriety and righteous in conduct. Truly a gentleman."
"The young lady praises me too much." Wang Rong cupped his hands and politely took his leave. "There are still important matters at the residence. I will go on ahead and not disturb the young lady's leisure."
The corridor of the Zuixian Tower was not especially wide—just enough for two people to pass shoulder to shoulder. Tang Jiayu stood at the corner, precisely blocking Wang Rong's way downstairs. After this parting, she did not know whether there would be another chance to meet. Her heart was full of unwillingness, but in front of so many people, she could not force Wang Rong to stay. She could only step back and clear the way.
"Take care, young master." Tang Jiayu felt disheartened. Her hand dropped to her side in disappointment, and her long sleeve slipped. The paper tube inside fell out, and the knotted string happened to break.
The paper drifted gently to Wang Rong's feet. Out of ingrained courtesy, Wang Rong bent down to pick it up for Tang Jiayu. He handed it to her and casually glanced at it. "Does the young lady like The Classic of Mountains and Seas?"
Tang Jiayu took back the Lingyun Chart sample drawing and stuffed it into her sleeve. Only after several breaths did she react to Wang Rong's words. "What Classic of Mountains and Seas?"
Wang Rong had only spoken casually and did not mind. "The drawing in the young lady's sleeve—is it not a rubbing from The Classic of Mountains and Seas?"
The noise of the crowd was overwhelming, wine cups and gaming chips crisscrossing, the sounds of drinking games and laughter from downstairs nearly lifting the roof off. Yet amid the clamor, Tang Jiayu could clearly hear her own heartbeat.
Thump, thump.
Tang Jiayu held her breath and grabbed Wang Rong's wrist with force: "This painting… you recognize it?"
Wang Rong looked at her strangely: "An introductory children's picture book of The Classic of Mountains and Seas—how could I not recognize it?""
Tang Jiayu had also guessed these paintings were related to The Classic of Mountains and Seas, but from Wang Rong's tone, he had clearly seen an entire book of them! Tang Jiayu quickly asked: "I've searched every bookshop in Bingzhou. Though there are many illustrated editions of The Classic of Mountains and Seas, none match this painting. Where did you see the same illustration, gongzi?"
Though there were printing shops nowadays, most books were still copied by hand. Established families with deep roots had accumulated many books over the years, while newly prosperous households, even with vast wealth, could not access certain books.
That single sentence already exposed how utterly different Tang Jiayu's living environment was from Wang Rong's. But Tang Jiayu did not care at all about revealing her ignorance. She stared intently at Wang Rong, her grip unconsciously tightening, looking as though she would not let him leave until he answered.
Wang Rong was actually pinched sore by Tang Jiayu. He frowned slightly. The attendants behind him moved to pull Tang Jiayu away, but Wang Rong signaled them not to be rude. Considering she was a woman, he tolerated her presumption and maintained his courtesy as he replied: "It was part of my grandmother's dowry. She brought many books from Chang'an. One illustrated edition of The Classic of Mountains and Seas was particularly interesting—I loved flipping through it as a child, so I remember it."
Books brought from Chang'an—no, possibly even from the imperial palace. No wonder they could not be found on the market. Tang Jiayu's heart first sank, then tensed. She had originally made up an excuse on the spot, hoping to use the search for the book to stall Li Jichen's progress. Who could have guessed she would actually stumble onto the right trail! What now? She had found the book—should she take it?
·
When Tang Jiayu left the private room, her expression was off. Though she said nothing, Li Zhaoji could tell her mood was very poor. Her thoughts changed by the moment, and being in a bad mood was normal for her. But he had indulged her wish to eat at Zui Xian Lou, let her order the dishes, and the private room was elegant. What else could have suddenly soured her mood?
Li Zhaoji could not help but think of the storyteller's tale—the story of Emperor Xizong's past, told from the common people's perspective.
Li Zhaoji let Tang Jiayu go out to clear her head. He sat alone in the private room, gripping his teacup tightly.
He had suspected more than once that Tang Jiayu was putting on an act, and more than once he had urged his father to kill her and eliminate the threat forever. After arriving at the Tang residence, he had tested Tang Jiayu openly and covertly several times. She seemed like nothing more than a spoiled, brainless young lady, and every test had just happened to miss its mark. Yet whenever Li Zhaoji was about to relax, another voice whispered in his ear: could there really be such coincidences in this world?
Now, Li Zhaoji had finally caught Tang Jiayu's flaw—but he found that he was not as pleased as he had imagined he would be.
Why? These days had been nothing but playacting. He had always known his purpose. What was there to hesitate about?
The matter had to be faced eventually. Li Zhaoji gave himself the time of one incense stick to calm his emotions. When the time was up, he stood and said: "Go find Tang Jiayu."
On Bingzhou's turf, finding Tang Jiayu was as easy as turning one's hand. Li Zhaoji stood sideways behind a pillar, watching the corridor ahead with an unreadable expression.
Tang Jiayu tugged at Wang Rong's sleeve, staring at him with a sincere gaze. Wang Rong leaned slightly toward her, pressing in at an extremely close distance. His attendant stood with hands hanging down behind them, seemingly keeping watch for the two.
From an outsider's perspective, these two truly seemed like a loving couple, utterly shameless.
Li Zhaoji narrowed his eyes. That inexplicable displeasure in his heart grew even stronger than before.
He had thought she was secretly nursing her wounds outside—furious and enduring, tasting gall and biding her time, or even pretending to smile happily. Li Zhaoji had anticipated all of that. But instead, she was outside secretly meeting her old lover?