General Changning — Chapter 10
Prince Xian, Shu Yun, arrived that very night, without even stopping to rest, driving straight to the palace and halting his carriage outside the gates.
Shu Shenhui himself escorted his uncle into Wenlin Pavilion. Li Xiangchun and Zhang Bao brought hot towels and tea, but at a gesture from Shu Shenhui, they withdrew, closing the door softly behind them.
The Regent helped Prince Xian to a seat, wrung out the towel himself, and offered it with both hands.
“Royal Uncle, at your age, you should be preserving your strength, enjoying the service of your children and grandchildren. Yet you still disregard your years, rushing about so tirelessly. It is only my own incompetence that causes you such trouble. I am deeply ashamed, and even more grateful.”
Prince Xian waved it off. “We are family—no need for such words. You devote yourself to the court; I merely traveled a road, hardly worth calling toil. Besides, this was my own errand. Do not speak so!” He wiped his face and hands, drank a quick cup of tea, and went straight to the point.
“Why did Prince Gao suddenly die of illness?” he asked. That was why he had hurried through the night to meet his nephew.
Shu Shenhui did not answer, only stepped forward and bowed in silent apology. Prince Xian understood at once. He had suspected as much on the journey back, but hearing it confirmed made his heart sink. “Self-destruction… self-destruction,” he murmured, face darkened.
Still, Shu Shenhui remained silent.
“What was he planning?” Prince Xian pressed.
“On the Empress Dowager’s birthday, he meant to raise chaos at Huguo Temple, with the Marquis Wu and Palace Watch in support. I struck first.”
Prince Gao was not Prince Xian’s full brother. In recent years, they had grown distant, though once they had shared fraternal closeness.
Prince Xian knew his nephew well: outwardly gentle, but a blade hidden in its sheath. Of all Emperor Shengwu’s sons, he alone had inherited that deep, fierce decisiveness. The Emperor had loved him not merely for his mother’s beauty or noble birth—there were many such consorts—but because this son most resembled himself.
The late Emperor Ming also had recognized it, which was why, on his deathbed, he entrusted the young emperor to this third brother.
Prince Xian had long foreseen that if Prince Gao did not restrain himself, he would one day fall to this nephew’s sword. Still, he had not expected the strike to be so secret, so sudden, that even he had no inkling beforehand.
Now it seemed clear: Shu Shenhui’s proposal to Jiang Zuwang had been the beginning of the counterstroke.
Prince Xian fell silent.
“Forgive me, Royal Uncle,” Shu Shenhui said at last.
Prince Xian started, then rose and bowed deeply in return. “The Regent bears no blame. Prince Gao’s fate was his own doing. On the contrary, I must thank you on behalf of Great Wei—for removing danger in time and sparing us calamity.”
Shu Shenhui helped him back to his seat. “I am grateful for your understanding.”
Knowing his nephew awaited news of his mission, Prince Xian steadied himself and said, “Your Highness, I did not fail. I left the token—Jiang Zuwang agreed.”
As expected, Shu Shenhui merely nodded, showing no joy. “And when you proposed the marriage, how did Jiang Zuwang respond?”
Prince Xian did not conceal it. Observing Jiang Zuwang had been part of his task. “At first, he seemed reluctant, but did not refuse. Then an accident occurred.”
The Regent looked at him.
“His daughter, the Lady General of Changning, was unwilling. Upon hearing the news, she left camp without a word. Jiang Zuwang tried to hide it from me, sent me to lodge in the city, and secretly dispatched men to search. He thought she had gone to her mother’s family in Yunluo. But the night before I returned, I tested him again—she had not gone there, and was still missing. This shook him. He nearly refused the marriage outright.”
Prince Xian paused. “I pressed him a little. The next morning, he came again, changed his mind, and agreed. Yet I felt his change was not solely due to my pressure.”
“After you left, did news of his daughter arrive?” Shu Shenhui asked.
Prince Xian nodded. “It must have. If Jiang Zuwang truly meant to defy, it would have ruined your plans. I left a man to watch. By chance, at dawn, the Lady General returned alone to camp. Father and daughter spoke—whatever passed between them, in the end, the marriage was settled.”
Shu Shenhui pondered. “Do you know where she went?”
Prince Xian shook his head. “No.”
He added, “Do not trouble yourself, Regent. Jiang’s daughter is no ordinary woman—raised in the army, acting as a man would. To speak suddenly of marriage, her reaction was bound to be strong. Yet in the end, she is still a woman. Once she meets you, she will surely change her heart.”
This was no mere flattery. In Chang’an, countless women were already captivated by Prince Qi’s presence.
Fortunately, the Regent was magnanimous. He smiled and waved it off. “No matter.”
Prince Xian then recalled another matter. He had heard his nephew once loved the daughter of the Wen family, but fate had intervened. After the Emperor Shengwu’s death, Emperor Ming had leaned heavily on him, and now, as Regent, he bore the weight of the realm. Such youthful affections had to be set aside.
The world had lost a perfect pair. Prince Xian sighed, but did not dwell on it. He turned to his other purpose. “I stayed long at Yanmen, made secret inquiries. The army is disciplined, officers upright. No signs of faction or corruption. Jiang Zuwang has not been close with Prince Gao or Prince Cheng.”
Shu Shenhui nodded with relief. “Indeed, Jiang Zuwang’s consent was expected. My only concern was this matter. His future position touches the fate of the realm—there must be no flaw. This is best.”
Prince Xian’s northern mission had achieved both its aims. After their talk, Shu Shenhui, mindful of his uncle’s age and the lateness of the hour, said:
“Royal Uncle, you should return to your residence and rest. Allow me to escort you back.”
But Prince Xian did not leave. “Wait! During my stay, I also gathered some news about Jiang’s daughter.”
Without waiting for his nephew’s reply, he began to speak at length, “Jiang Zuwang is a fine commander, and his daughter has inherited his martial spirit. Though a woman in the army, no one finds it strange. From top to bottom, soldiers call her ‘General Changning’ with genuine respect. I did not meet her this time, but the rumors in the capital—that she is some wolf-spirit in human form—are absurd! Still, I did hear she has some connection with wolves. It is said that, as an infant, she and her mother met with misfortune while traveling together. Her mother died, but by heaven’s mercy, she was suckled by a she-wolf until found and brought back. Nothing more than that. The rest is ignorant gossip, born of the rarity of a female general, spread by those who have never seen her.”
Though he regretted his nephew’s loss to the Wen family’s daughter, since marriage to Jiang’s daughter was now decided, as an elder, he wished for harmony between them and so sought to clear her name.
“You are right, Royal Uncle. Thank you for your care,” Shu Shenhui said with a smile.
Prince Xian continued: “Her maternal grandfather, the old city lord, passed away last year. At that time, Your Highness, in the Emperor’s name, sent condolences, gifts of horses, grain, cloth, and a posthumous title. You must recall it. Jiang’s daughter was deeply attached to her mother’s kin. I heard she had gone to Yunluo to pay respects at her grandfather’s tomb, but was summoned back midway, wholly unprepared for talk of marriage. That must be why she resisted at first.”
“I understand,” Shu Shenhui replied, smiling again.
Then Prince Xian recalled another rumor he had heard. “In Yunluo, there is said to be a young monk, disciple of a great master, who once fell into hardship and was rescued by the Lady General. He remained there ever since. That alone is nothing—but rumor claims he is handsome, and that she took him as a favored companion. Each time she visits Yunluo, she seeks him out; some even say she stayed overnight. Yet the people there see no scandal, as if even if true, it were natural.”
“Royal Uncle, is there more?” Shu Shenhui asked.
Prince Xian hesitated. He had thought to conceal it, lest it sow discord. But then reasoned: better to speak plainly now, since the marriage was for alliance. “There is one more matter, though small… I heard that in Yunluo, this monk from the western lands, once saved by her, has since kept company with her. People may think otherwise, but to me such talk is like the wolf-girl rumors—mere shadows and gossip.”
The Regent showed no change of expression, only said calmly: “Thank you for the warning, Royal Uncle. You have labored hard. Allow me to see you off.”
He escorted Prince Xian to the palace gate. He wished to accompany him further to his residence, but Prince Xian refused, urging him to rest instead.
Shu Shenhui agreed, stopping at the inner gate, watching his uncle’s carriage depart before turning back inside. The night was deep and shadowed. Hands clasped behind his back, he walked alone through the narrow passage between towering palace walls. Li Xiangchun followed quietly with a lantern, careful not to disturb his master’s thoughts.
At the end of the passage, Shu Shenhui halted. Li Xiangchun hurried forward and heard his order: “Before morning court, summon the Minister of Rites to Wenlin Pavilion.”
Li Xiangchun understood at once.
The Regent’s marriage to Jiang’s daughter, long rumored, was now settled.