After court adjourned, Li Xi had just stepped out of Taiji Hall.
Ping’an followed closely behind, promptly handing over a hand warmer—his master was most afraid of the cold.
Li Xi took the warm stove, feeling as if half his life had instantly returned, and hurried to catch up with the Crown Prince.
“Shaolang.” Usually, the Crown Prince was on the best terms with him.
Li Shi paused in his steps, thinking of what his younger uncle had just said in court, and walked away without even turning his head.
Li Xi then took the handkerchief Ping’an handed over, wiped his face, and finally picked up the pastries he had brought along, popping one into his mouth. The sweet, osmanthus-flavored pastry melted in his mouth, but he still felt quite unhappy. When hungry, one indeed craved something savory and flavorful.
Just then, Li Miao also emerged from the hall.
“Er Lang.”
Li Miao, recalling the complaints his younger uncle had voiced in the hall earlier, didn’t even glance at him and strode away.
“How rude. Consort Cui clearly doesn’t know how to raise a child.” Li Xi tucked away the handkerchief in his hand and looked back, only to see Guo Ziyi approaching with his head held high and chest out. He thought to himself, this time, the man surely wouldn’t acknowledge him.
Unexpectedly, the old man deliberately took a detour, walked up to him, and gave him a scrutinizing look before letting out a heavy snort from his nose: “Hmph!”
Li Xi watched the old man’s retreating back and asked Ping’an beside him, “What’s going on? Have I offended them?”
Ping’an was equally puzzled. “Did you do something earlier?”
Li Xi: “Could it be they’re afraid I’ll borrow money from them?”
The so-called borrowing, of course, meant borrowing without returning.
Ping’an was confused. “If you need to spend money, you can just ask Niangniang for some. Why borrow from them?”
Li Xi gazed at the distant sky. “Perhaps it’s because I’m about to leave for my fief, and I’m very poor.”
Ping’an’s face immediately lit up with joy. Among the late Emperor’s sons, he was the only one to receive a fief before the age of eleven. Their Highness was truly remarkable and deeply favored!
“Congratulations, Your Highness, congratulations!” Being granted a fief had its pros and cons. For princes contending for the throne, naturally, they wouldn’t want to be driven away from the center of power. But for someone like Li Xi, the current Emperor’s younger brother, leaving Taiji Palace meant financial freedom. Moreover, their Highness had always longed to be granted a fief.
Ping’an harbored no ambitions either. The thought of much greater freedom after leaving the palace instantly made him happy.
“Do you really want to go to the fief with me?”
“This servant has followed Your Highness since childhood and will naturally pledge to follow you even unto death.”
“Good, then I’ll take you to Xizhou.”
“What?” Ping’an found the two words unfamiliar. With so many prefectures and commanderies in the empire, it was normal for him not to recognize some.
Still, the thought of leaving the capital with His Highness made him happy.
Li Xi headed toward the rear palace. He hadn’t yet told his mother, Lady Wu, the news. Lady Wu had always worried that his identity as a woman would be exposed, bringing about fatal consequences. Now, this was perfect—once they went to the Western Regions, even the Emperor would find it difficult to learn the truth.
Wouldn’t that mean the sky was the limit from then on!
The tear stains in Lady Wu’s eyes hadn’t yet dried, and her plump face had just been freshly made up. As soon as she saw Li Xi, she couldn’t help but shed tears again. It seemed the matters discussed in court had already spread to the rear palace.
Li Xi had long known that the court was as leaky as a sieve, but he hadn’t expected the news to spread so quickly.
“Chili.”
Li Xi glanced around, then pulled Lady Wu toward the back room. The servants below tactfully waited outside. As soon as the two entered the room, Li Xi exclaimed excitedly, “Mother, Elder Brother has granted me a fief. Starting today, I’m a prince too!”
What delighted her most was being placed far, far away from the Emperor. From now on, she would no longer have to rise at dawn and attend court alongside a crowd of officials.
“Where is it?” Lady Wu’s almond-shaped eyes looked at her daughter with anticipation.
“The Western Regions.”
“Oh, my child.” Lady Wu’s pupils dilated in shock. Large teardrops rolled down her cheeks as she stroked Li Xi’s back, her voice trembling. “From now on, we mother and daughter will never see each other again in this lifetime. It’s all my fault for harming you. You should have, you should have—”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
Ever since her child died ten years ago and was replaced by this girl, Lady Wu had lived in constant fear and anxiety.
Fortunately, Li Xi was a likable child, doted upon not only by the late Emperor but also favored by the current Emperor.
Lady Wu had always believed that once her daughter was granted a fief, there would be hope for a better life.
But she never expected the fief to be in such a place.
The Western Regions—that was practically a barren wasteland, and it had been unstable for years. Going there likely meant never returning.
Li Xi snatched a handkerchief and wiped Lady Wu’s face haphazardly. “Stop crying, please, I beg you. Don’t worry about not seeing me again. His Majesty has already agreed to let me take you with me to the fief.”
What was so great about Chang’an anyway? If Pugu Huai’en were pushed to rebellion, he might lead the Tibetans and Uyghurs to invade Chang’an City next year. When that happened, chaos would reign. For Li Xi now, grabbing her belongings and fleeing was more important than anything else.
What? Lady Wu’s beautiful eyes trembled, and she nearly lost her balance.
What? She was going to the Western Regions too?
“That’s right. I pleaded with His Majesty for a long time before he agreed. Mother, haven’t you always wanted to leave the palace?”
“You asked for this?”
“Once we’re out of the palace, we won’t have to follow so many rules anymore. You can do whatever you want.”
“I’m going to the Western Regions too?”
“Mother, aren’t you happy?”
“Mother is happy.” Lady Wu’s chest heaved violently.
For a former imperial consort, following her sons to their fiefs to live out her days was the best option—but only if the fief was in a prosperous region. The Western Regions? Absolutely not. For Lady Wu, who had never left the Guanzhong Plain in her life, this was like a thunderbolt from the blue.
Lady Wu rolled her eyes and collapsed limply backward.
Li Xi: “…Ah, see? My mother is so happy she fainted.”
A few days later, amid the Imperial Grandson’s wailing and under the Crown Prince’s watchful gaze, after bidding farewell to the officials at the Ten-Mile Pavilion, a slightly tipsy Li Xi was helped into a carriage. The vehicle sped northward and westward.
She would pass through Xiazhou, the grasslands, Liangzhou (scratched out—Liangzhou was currently occupied by Tibetans), Ganzhou, Suzhou, Yizhou, and finally arrive at Xizhou.
In ancient times, without highways or navigation, the journey would require traversing vast grasslands and deserts, all while facing threats from Tibetans and Uyghurs—a trek of three thousand kilometers.
Lady Wu leaned limply inside the carriage. After more than ten days on the road, she had grown accustomed to the constant jolting.
Ever since leaving the capital, her spirits had never quite lifted.
Li Xi, however, did not find the journey dull. As soon as they reached the grasslands, she chattered incessantly, urging Lady Wu to come out and play.
“Mother, come ride with me!”
“You go ahead and play. I didn’t sleep well last night,” Lady Wu replied weakly. “Why don’t you stay and talk with me instead?”
These past few days, Li Xi had been telling Lady Wu a story about a young girl following the army, which had added a fair bit of amusement to Lady Wu’s travels.
“Mother, I’ll tell you more at mealtime,” she said, eager to go for a ride. “Zhuifeng is getting impatient.”
Zhuifeng was a three-year-old stallion, equally full of boundless energy. Both girl and horse were ready to burst into action.
Where this child got such inexhaustible vigor was beyond Lady Wu.
Irritated beyond measure, Lady Wu waved her hand, instructing Chun Tao and the others to accompany Li Xi.
Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter—the four maids—were Lady Wu’s senior maids. Back in the palace, they had been models of propriety, but ever since leaving the palace, Li Xi had rubbed off on them, making them more spirited. Hearing that Lady Wu was sending them out to ride with Li Xi, Chun Tao let out a cheer and darted out of the carriage.
Lady Wu then met the expectant gazes of the three remaining maids. Unable to bear the sight, she closed her eyes briefly and waved them off. “Go on, all of you. Just keep a close eye on her and don’t let her wander off.”
All four were only around fourteen or fifteen years old—an age when playfulness was natural—so they went out together to ride and have fun.
Since entering the grasslands, the road had become rougher than the official road. To maintain their pace, they had switched to a carriage pulled by two horses. While this increased their speed, the carriage interior was far less comfortable than riding. After several days of travel, they still hadn’t reached any towns.
When it was time to set up camp and cook, Lady Wu finally couldn’t take it anymore. “How much longer until we reach a city?”
Everything else was tolerable, but the food was becoming unbearable.
Although they had brought ample provisions for the journey, there was little time for proper cooking.
Before entering the grasslands, the convoy had stocked up on several large baskets of Hu Cakes, which had been their staple for days.
While Lady Wu was accustomed to wheat-based foods, she disliked the dry, hard texture of Hu Cakes. During their hurried travels, preparing Soup Noodles was no easy task. Though the Hu Cakes were quite tasty fresh out of the oven, after days of exposure to the wind, they became tough and difficult to chew. Moreover, eating the same thing day after day made even digestion feel less smooth. Lady Wu much preferred dishes with broths or soups.
Chun Tao suggested, “How about having the cook knead some dough to make Soup Noodles for you?”
Kneading and resting the dough would take at least two hours for a single meal. Going through the whole process would likely delay their journey. Lady Wu held back her frustration once more. “Never mind, let’s stick with this for now. Tonight, boil some plain congee. I’d like to have it tomorrow morning.”
There was plenty of time after stopping for the night, but drinking congee in the evening would mean frequent trips to relieve herself.
Chun Tao replied, “Then this servant will wake up early tomorrow to prepare it.”
Food for the morning was best cooked fresh in the morning.
Li Xi noticed the commotion around Lady Wu and trotted over to ask, “What’s wrong?”
Lady Wu listlessly asked, “How much longer until we reach Ganzhou?”
Li Xi turned her gaze to the maids.
Chun Tao thought for a moment and said, “Niangniang wants a change in diet. As you know, she prefers dishes with soups or broths, but she doesn’t want to slow down the convoy’s progress.”
If it would still be days before reaching Ganzhou, Niangniang was going to lose her temper!
Li Xi knew that someone like Lady Wu, who had been pampered since childhood, was particularly particular about what she ate. Not to mention days like this when she craved a bowl of soup noodles, even in the past, every meal had to be varied. Yet Lady Wu had never shown dissatisfaction in front of her. However, failing to anticipate her mother’s thoughts was also unfilial.
“So Mother doesn’t want to eat Hu cake but craves soup noodles instead.” Li Xi pondered for a moment. “Let me think…”
Her gaze fell upon the hands of a soldier cutting mutton not far away. Her mind gradually cleared, and her eyes lit up. “I’ve got it. I know how to improve Mother’s meals.”
Meanwhile, in the Taiji Palace, Li Yu, who had just finished the morning court session, was resting with his eyes closed.
A young eunuch beside him silently lit some storax.
This incense had the effect of refreshing the mind and clearing the senses. Recently, the emperor had often felt fatigued. Wispy blue smoke rose from the incense burner, filling the room with a captivating fragrance.
“How many days has it been since the Prince of Xizhou left?”
“Your Majesty,” the chief eunuch beside him calculated the days, “it has been fifteen days.”
It was also the day when Pugu Huai’en submitted a memorial requesting to return to the capital.
Since recalling Luo Fengxian and then keeping him idle for over a month after his return to the capital, Pugu Huai’en, far away in Uyghur territory, had also taken action. He first submitted a memorial explaining the situation and expressed his readiness to enter the capital at any time. Li Yu abandoned his plan to suppress him and sent Yan Zhenqing to welcome him, along with an envoy to comfort his elderly mother in the capital.
Pugu Huai’en was extremely filial to his mother. Upon learning that during this period, his mother had not only faced no harassment from the palace but had also received increasingly generous rewards, and that after Luo Fengxian’s return to the capital, Li Yu had not summoned this accompanying military supervisor as usual, rumors gradually spread that the emperor no longer trusted Guo Fengxian. This move completely dispelled Pugu Huai’en’s suspicions toward the court.
With sincerity between ruler and subject, their relationship had unexpectedly eased.
However, when one is idle, it’s hard not to think of other matters. Li Yu glanced at the eunuch, who immediately understood. “I wonder where His Highness the Prince of Xizhou has reached by now?”
Li Yu rubbed his temples with a headache. “Indeed. Has he not sent any letters back?”
The eunuch lowered his head. “Once they reached the vast grasslands, travel became difficult. How could he send letters frequently? But surely His Highness the Prince of Xizhou is thinking of Your Majesty.”
Thinking? Thinking my foot.
If he’s thinking of me, why hasn’t he sent a single letter?
Before leaving, I gave him so many horses—wasn’t it to make sending letters easier?
At this moment, Li Yu wanted to curse. That day, he had watched his younger brother until he disappeared from sight.
But this rascal, once he left the capital, was like a wild horse set free. It was said that when passing through Xiazhou, he even went hunting for wild sheep with local wealthy merchants.
Eating well, drinking well, having a grand old time, huh.
However, Li Xi had been raised by him personally, and the boy had also won Li Yu’s favor. Their bond was deep, serving as a model of brotherly harmony in the Tang Dynasty. It broke the curse of discord between brothers and fathers that had persisted since Taizong’s time, becoming not only a paragon of brotherly affection and respect within the Tang imperial family but also earning praise from scholars and poets. Unconsciously, Li Yu had gained a favorable reputation among the people.
Li Yu would absolutely never admit that he had been swayed by flattery.
But he soon discovered that after Li Xi left the palace, the poems praising him gradually dwindled.
This wouldn’t do—he couldn’t let people think he had fallen out with his younger brother.
Just then, someone from outside came to visit, rushing anxiously to the door.
Li Yu was about to lose his temper, but seeing it was his eldest son, his expression softened slightly.
Li Shi hurried to the outside of the Emperor’s study: “Fa… Father.”
Li Yu frowned: “Your son is almost older than Chili now, yet you’re still so flustered.”
At least learn a thing or two from your uncle—even if he’s unreliable at heart, he puts on an impeccable front.
Li Shi stumbled forward, stopping before his father, and stammered: “Father, I… I just saw Uncle.”
The term “Father” was something Li Shi only used when the two of them were alone in private.
But today, Li Shi had been so startled that he lost his composure.
He quickly lowered his head to apologize: “Your Majesty.”
Li Yu stroked his eldest son’s forehead, momentarily reminded of how his son looked when he was young, and felt a pang of emotion: “Shaolang, you must miss your uncle.”
He already regretted it—regretted sending his younger brother to such a place.
“Your Majesty, I truly saw Uncle.”
“Shaolang, have you been drinking?” Li Yu looked at his son with disdain, but there was no scent of alcohol in the air. Wondering if he had dreamed it, he casually asked: “Where did you see him?”
Li Shi didn’t know how to describe it: “In… the sky?”
Li Yu: “What?”
His younger brother was in the sky—could he have encountered danger?
Li Yu shot up from the imperial throne, then immediately thought that if his younger brother died, those scholars and poets would surely smear his name.
His reputation, his grand ambitions, his dream of becoming a legendary ruler.
His feet slipped, and he collapsed weakly back into his seat.
Li Shi:
Author’s Note:
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