4
Not pure? Hearing those words, Madam Jiang fell into a strange silence.
Ever since Jiang Mingwei’s return, Madam Jiang had deliberately avoided this topic. What mother would want to doubt her own daughter’s chastity? Besides, Jiang Mingwei had always been proud and competitive from a young age—she had striven to be the best among all the children. And indeed, her prospects had been the brightest of her peers.
But then she had eloped, fleeing from her own wedding, and with a foreign man at that. The Northern Rong and Yuet were sworn enemies, mortal foes. If Jiang Mingwei were not a weak young woman, this behavior might well be considered treachery and treason.
Moreover, Jiang Mingwei had not been missing for just a month or two—she had been gone for over a year and four months. A young maiden, in this chaotic world, wandering alone outside for a year and four months.
Even as her mother, Madam Jiang’s heart clenched at the thought. But her daughter had returned intact, and Jiang Mingwei had implied that she was still untouched. So Madam Jiang chose not to ask, not to dwell on it. She preferred to believe.
To have her daughter alive and whole was enough. What more could she ask for?
Now Jiang Mingwei spoke with contemptuous disgust about Mu Mingtang being “impure,” and Madam Jiang simply didn’t know how to respond. In fact, if one examined it closely, both Jiang Mingwei and Mu Mingtang had spent over a year wandering outside. Yet no one had ever doubted Mu Mingtang’s purity.
Mu Mingtang had fled north with a tide of refugees, struggling all the way to Yingtian. Those who survived that journey were people with a fierce, iron will. When others heard her story, they merely marveled that the girl had such a tough fate. They did not question whether she had been taken advantage of along the way.
But someone like Jiang Mingwei, who had run away from home of her own accord—even her own family could not help but wonder whether she had lost her chastity. A desperate flight from disaster versus a willing departure from a life of comfort and splendor—how could they possibly be the same?
Perhaps sensing Madam Jiang’s silence, Jiang Mingwei gave her mother a puzzled look. Then suddenly, she understood what Madam Jiang was thinking. Jiang Mingwei’s face flushed red, then paled with anger. “Mother, are you doubting my purity?”
“I didn’t—”
“You think I’m impure?” Jiang Mingwei suddenly exploded, her eyes widening as she shouted. “I risked my life to return to Yuet, to return to the Eastern Capital, thinking only of serving my parents and bringing them joy. And what do I find? My family has adopted another daughter. She has taken my room, my identity, and even my marriage contract. And now, Mother, you think I’m impure? That I’m not worthy to be a daughter of the Jiang family?”
“How could your mother ever think such a thing!” Tears streamed down Madam Jiang’s face as she spoke. “The moment you left, there was no word from you. I followed the trail all the way to Chenliu, but still couldn’t find you. I had given up hope, thought I’d never see you again in this lifetime. Now that you’ve returned whole and sound, I’ve already thanked heaven for its mercy. How could I ever doubt my own flesh and blood?”
Jiang Mingwei couldn’t stop her own tears either. Her outburst at Madam Jiang had been deeply unreasonable. What she had cried out were the grievances she had suffered in her previous life.
Jiang Mingwei thought of all the suffering she had endured in the Northern Rong, only to end up without a happy ending, smothered in the night by a damp cloth. She thought of all the discrimination, the abuse, and the position of empress that had slipped through her fingers. The more she thought, the more her grief welled up. Unable to contain herself any longer, Jiang Mingwei covered her face and sobbed aloud.
Madam Jiang had not expected that a single remark would cause Jiang Mingwei to break down like this. Her heart ached as if stabbed. For her daughter to cry this way, how much suffering must she have endured out there?
Even if Jiang Mingwei had returned with a Northern Rong child, Madam Jiang would accept it now.
She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and pulled Jiang Mingwei into a firm embrace. “There, there, Mingwei. Don’t cry. You’re home now. Everything is in the past.”
Jiang Mingwei gradually stopped crying. Yes, everything was in the past. Xie Xuanji, true to form, had not held her elopement against her. He had immediately and eagerly offered her the position of primary consort. Jiang Mingwei looked at the contrast between then and now and felt more certain than ever that she had been blind in her previous life, rejecting such a perfect fiancé for Yelü Yan.
But fortunately, she had awakened in time in this life. She was the eldest daughter of the Jiang family. She was the Princess of Jin. She was the sole legitimate empress of the heaven-appointed male protagonist. Xie Xuanji had already discussed it with Jiang Honghao: they would tell the outside world that she had spent the past year recuperating in another region, never mentioning her elopement or disappearance. Now, she had a betrothed who regarded her as his pure moonlight, a noble and distinguished family, and her youth and beauty. The only thing that bothered Jiang Mingwei was Mu Mingtang.
No one liked being imitated, especially when the imitator copied even the way she spoke and moved. What Jiang Mingwei hated most, in both lifetimes, was someone trying to replace her.
She felt an indescribable revulsion toward Mu Mingtang, tinged with a hint of wariness. After all, in the previous life, Mu Mingtang had married Xie Xuanji in her place and ultimately become empress, while Jiang Mingwei had never risen above her station.
When it came to fate, it was better to believe than not. Jiang Mingwei had decided on the road that as soon as she returned, she would drive Mu Mingtang out. As long as Mu Mingtang remained in the Jiang household, bearing the label of a Jiang family daughter, she would always be a latent threat. But if Mu Mingtang became a commoner, there would be nothing to fear.
Jiang Mingwei gradually stopped crying and took Madam Jiang’s hand. “Mother, I was foolish. I made you worry.”
“Silly child, what are you saying?” Madam Jiang wiped her tears, patted Jiang Mingwei’s hand, and said, “Parents don’t blame their children. As long as you are safe and sound, and live well with the Prince of Jin in the future, your mother’s heart will be at peace. The Prince of Jin is truly devoted to you. I always thought he was just a polite and well-behaved boy, but I never knew he was so deeply in love. You have a husband who cherishes you, and you’ll be a proper princess consort. If you manage things well, your days will be good. Your father and I are counting on you in the future.”
These words carried many implications. Xie Xuanji was already an imperial prince. If he advanced one step further, he would be the supreme ruler. Jiang Mingwei’s eyes lowered. After a moment, she asked, “Mother… will Xie Xuanchen truly never wake up?”
At the mention of that name, Madam Jiang’s expression instantly grew heavy. She was silent for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “He’s just lingering. His Majesty fears that if he dies, the whole realm will condemn him for mistreating the late emperor’s legitimate son. So he’s kept alive with mountains of gold and silver. In the early years, when he woke, he could still fight off ten men at once. Every time, the guards at the Prince of Qiyang’s residence had to be completely replaced. But this year, his periods of lucidity have grown shorter and shorter. He can no longer defeat the guards watching him. You can see it—his body has been hollowed out. It’s just a matter of passing one day at a time.”
Outsiders today saw the Jiang family’s glory and the Prince of Jin’s nobility. But in the beginning, they had merely been a small, ordinary household in Lin’an. The ones who were truly noble and influential were the elder branch of the Xie family—the family of the current emperor Xie Rui’s older brother, Xie Yi.
Amidst the chaos of war, the brothers each pursued their own paths. The younger brother, Xie Rui, served as a low-ranking seventh-grade official in Lin’an, while the elder brother, Xie Yi, joined the army and eventually came under the command of Guo Rong, earning considerable military merits. In such turbulent times, might made right—whoever had the strongest fist became emperor. When the Emperor Gong of Later Jin grew suspicious of Guo Rong, Guo Rong simply led his men in rebellion and declared himself emperor.
Xie Yi was one of Guo Rong’s trusted men. Xie Xuanchen, moreover, had grown up alongside Guo Rong. After Guo Rong ascended the throne, the father and son were greatly valued. Xie Yi needed help and summoned his younger brother Xie Rui’s family from Lin’an. After Xie Rui arrived, he mentioned his former neighbor and colleague, and Xie Yi, with a wave of his hand, promoted everyone on that entire lane to the capital, building up his own power base.
When the Jiang family first arrived in the capital, how illustrious Xie Yi and Xie Xuanchen had been! Xie Xuanchen walked in the emperor’s presence, his military achievements spoke for themselves. He was enfeoffed as a marquis at fifteen. He was strikingly handsome and heroic, his glory seemingly without limit. The Jiang family didn’t even have the standing to meet him; they could only gaze from afar.
Then, within a couple of years, Guo Rong died. Guo Rong’s son succeeded him. The Xie father and son had become the foremost powers in the capital. Why would they submit to a mere child? That same year, Xie Yi and Xie Xuanchen rebelled.
Guo Rong, as a subject, had rebelled against his sovereign, the Emperor Gong of Later Jin. Now Xie Yi, as Guo Rong’s trusted man, rebelled against Guo Rong’s own empire.
It was said that during the coup, Xie Yi hesitated. Xie Xuanchen brought him a dragon robe and draped it over his father’s shoulders. Then Xie Xuanchen’s personal soldiers shouted “Long live the emperor!” With no way back, Xie Yi led the very army that had been sent to suppress the rebellion, marching back to attack the capital.
The one sent to quell the rebellion had become a rebel himself.
Afterward, Xie Yi ascended the throne, declared himself emperor, and changed the dynasty’s name to Yuet. He rewarded his followers according to their merits. Xie Xuanchen, Xie Rui, and Xie Xuanji were all enfeoffed as princes. The Jiang family, riding on Xie Yi’s coattails, were also swiftly promoted.
Up to this point, the story had truly been about Xie Yi and Xie Xuanchen. The Jiang family, including Xie Rui and Xie Xuanji, were merely minor characters in the great saga of a hero’s rise.
But after Xie Yi ascended the throne, everything took a sharp turn. Xie Xuanchen, who had rendered great service to two emperors, was ordered to attack the Southern Tang. The Southern Tang fell, but on the journey home with the victorious army, Xie Xuanchen went mad.
The exact circumstances of what happened remained unclear. All anyone knew was that Xie Xuanchen, as if drunk on bloodshed, had begun attacking the allied forces around him. All of his adjutants died in that incident. The commander’s tent ran red with blood. With immense effort, the others managed to subdue him only when he finally exhausted himself.
When the news reached the capital, Xie Yi was horrified. He personally left the palace to see his son. Xie Rui, as the dutiful younger brother, accompanied him. But Xie Xuanchen, even with his hands and feet bound and completely unarmed, still went on a killing spree, nearly costing both Xie Yi and Xie Rui their lives.
After returning to the palace, Xie Yi was both shocked and enraged. He ordered shackles forged from black iron to lock the Prince of Qiyang within his own manor. Without his express command, no one was to release the Prince of Qiyang.
Xie Yi had spoken in a fit of rage. But Xie Xuanchen’s condition never improved. At first, he alternated between unconsciousness and violent outbursts. Whenever he was awake, no one could subdue him; they could only wear him down through attrition. Even a man forged of iron could not withstand such depletion. Xie Xuanchen’s periods of lucidity grew shorter and shorter. Yet even so, his capacity for destruction when awake was not to be underestimated.
The god of war in the eyes of a million soldiers, the living battle standard of the Yuet dynasty—the Prince of Qiyang, Xie Xuanchen—plummeted from his heights, his reputation shattered. At his peak, the mere mention of Xie Xuanchen’s name could send foreign enemies fleeing in terror. But in the end, this sharp blade had turned against his own people, becoming a madman who butchered his comrades-in-arms.
He was no longer a god of war. He was a sinner.
Xie Yi had Xie Xuanchen imprisoned and ordered him chained. Xie Yi himself was also devastated. His old illnesses recurred. Then, one night in the second year of the Jianshi era, Xie Yi, depressed and troubled, summoned his younger brother Xie Rui to the palace for a talk. No one knew what happened that night. Xie Yi suddenly fell gravely ill and died. On his deathbed, he left an edict passing the throne to Xie Rui.
And so, the empire abruptly changed hands. Xie Rui ascended the throne and aggressively promoted his own people. He had always been a civil official; his trusted confidants were likewise civil officials. As for military officials, they were all originally under Xie Yi and Xie Xuanchen’s command.
After the new emperor took power, Yuet abandoned its former aggressive ambitions. Military officials were systematically marginalized. Xie Rui valued civil officials over military ones, preferring to rule from a corner of the realm in peace. Xie Xuanji replaced his cousin Xie Xuanchen as the next in line for the throne.
It was at this time that Jiang Honghao, as Xie Rui’s former neighbor, was promoted to Deputy Commissioner of the Three Bureaus.
Every new dynasty brings its own ministers. Those who knew that history were gradually sidelined. The civil officials sang the praises of Xie Rui and Xie Xuanji, extolling their virtues. The officials in the capital had almost entirely been replaced. The people slowly forgot Xie Xuanchen’s undefeated military glory and Xie Yi’s achievements in founding the dynasty. Now, when people mentioned the Prince of Qiyang, all they remembered was a madman, half-dead, on the brink of the grave.
For these reasons, the Prince of Qiyang’s residence was absolutely not a desirable place to go in the capital. People were desperate to avoid it. Who would want to marry their daughter into such a place? Yet the emperor, Xie Xuanji, the Jiang family, and Jiang Mingwei herself—those who had witnessed Xie Xuanchen with their own eyes—all harbored a deep-seated fear of him.
And awe.
That was why Jiang Mingwei was so indignant. Why should Mu Mingtang get to marry Xie Xuanchen?
No one remembered the Jiang family’s humble origins anymore. They now carried themselves with the arrogance of a noble house. But when faced with true nobility—the son of a high-ranking official like Xie Xuanchen—they instantly felt their inferiority. Xie Xuanchen was nobility in the truest sense.
Moreover, Jiang Mingwei harbored some complicated, ambiguous feelings. At the age of twelve, that breathtaking sight before the Vermilion Bird Gate had fixed Xie Xuanchen in her mind as the definition of beauty and nobility. The Marquis of Wu’an, later Prince of Qiyang—how illustrious his fame had been! Though Xie Xuanji was also praised by many, compared to Xie Xuanchen, he still fell far short.
Perhaps those of exceptional brilliance were destined to die young, so that they might never fall from grace. Seeing Xie Xuanchen reduced to his current state, Jiang Mingwei sighed with regret—but only a sigh. That Xie Xuanchen should marry, however—that she could not accept.
The heroic youth in her heart should remain forever on the mountaintop. If she could not have him, why should any other woman?
Especially when that woman was Mu Mingtang—a lowly, vulgar, mediocre creature.
No one knew a daughter better than her mother. Seeing Jiang Mingwei’s expression, Madam Jiang could guess what was on her mind. She sighed and gripped Jiang Mingwei’s hand tightly. “Mingwei, everyone has youthful fancies. But youthful infatuation is one thing; living day to day is another. The Prince of Qiyang… by all appearances, he doesn’t have long to live. His Majesty agreed so quickly to let Mu Mingtang marry into that household, and even ordered the Ministry of Rites to expedite the arrangements, precisely because he fears the prince won’t last.”
Jiang Mingwei was startled. “Can’t he even hold on for a few more months?”
Madam Jiang nodded silently. Jiang Mingwei was speechless for a long time. At last, she let out a long sigh.
Madam Jiang understood her daughter’s feelings perfectly. For such a dazzling figure to fall from the clouds overnight, to be ruined and disgraced, imprisoned in his own home by his father, and finally unable to retain even his posthumous dignity—who could not sigh?
After a moment of reflection, Madam Jiang continued to counsel her daughter. “Mingwei, there’s no need to be angry with her. Yes, she will also become a princess consort, but it’s not at all comparable to your position as Princess of Jin. She’s merely… going to a living widowhood. If she doesn’t survive, if she dies at the Prince of Qiyang’s hands, then she will have died for her husband and earned a reputation for virtue. If she lives, she’ll simply be passing one miserable day after another. And since the Prince of Qiyang is the former emperor’s son, once he is gone, she will be a widow right under the current emperor’s nose. Who knows if His Majesty will be able to tolerate her? In the end, she might be worse off than if she had died at the start—at least then she would have left behind a good name.”
Gradually, Jiang Mingwei was persuaded. She thought: yes, after she went to the Northern Rong in her previous life, she never heard the name of the Prince of Qiyang again. He must have died around this time, disappearing from the world entirely. Later, when Xie Xuanji ascended the throne, the historical records would be written from the victor’s perspective, and even fewer would remember Xie Xuanchen.
Jiang Mingwei felt she had been bewitched. Why should she bother with someone doomed to be a mere footnote? It was true that Mu Mingtang would be a princess consort. But if, as Madam Jiang said, Xie Xuanchen had only a few months left, then Mu Mingtang would be a widow the moment she stepped through the door.
At that point, Mu Mingtang would have no children, no support, and would be a niece-in-law princess not favored by the emperor. How she was dealt with would be entirely up to Jiang Mingwei. Her mind at ease, Jiang Mingwei nodded to Madam Jiang. “Mother is right. I was being foolish.”
“I’m glad you’ve seen reason.” Overjoyed, Madam Jiang took Jiang Mingwei by the hand and led her to another part of the room, happily showing her clothes and jewelry. “Your wedding to the Prince of Jin is approaching. These are all the dowry items I’ve prepared for you. If there are other styles you like, just tell me, and I’ll have them custom-made immediately.”
Looking at the cases of jeweled hairpins and bolts of fabric, Jiang Mingwei smiled. This was only the beginning. Once she became empress, there would be endless splendor and wealth to enjoy.
When Jiang Mingwei returned to her room, she looked around at the familiar furnishings and felt a sudden surge of emotion.
Mu Mingtang had lived here for a year, yet left not a single trace. Everything, still, was her shadow.
Jiang Mingwei smiled softly. She casually selected a box of jewelry and summoned a maidservant. “The Second Miss is still staying in the guest room, isn’t she? How difficult for her. Take these to her, and say that I, as her elder sister, am congratulating her on her marriage. Consider it my bridal gift.”
**